Not to Notice 2.2

[drainbamage954]

Previous~

Soccer House.

 

It’s not exactly a fraternity.  Those exist on campus and are mildly chaotic places of alcoholism and a lot of yelling with fancy names and too many rules.  Instead, Soccer House is more of a house that some of the team has rented to live in and throw entirely ridiculous parties at on the weekends where most people get drunk.  The stories that come from the nights at Soccer House can range from anything.  They can be about the time someone lost their shirt and found it on the ceiling fan, someone who started a massive game of hacky sack and, having no hacky sack, substituted a slipper.  They can be about how someone went with the intention to get laid and woke up in the birdbath in the front lawn covered in shaving cream.

 

There are no limits to Soccer House.  The only rules that apply are don’t call the cops, don’t kill anyone, don’t die, and have fun.

 

Soccer House on Halloween is just like Soccer House any other weekend of the year.  The only difference really is that people have an excuse for looking ridiculous and getting completely wasted.  There is all the more cause for celebration considering the soccer team won that day and want to enjoy their victory with some good hard civil mayhem.

 

“What are you supposed to be?”

 

Yifan stares at the kid, almost as tall as himself and scowling at him like he might kill him.  He’s swaying back and forth slightly and Yifan realizes perhaps he’s scowling because he can’t see due to the excess of alcohol already in his system.  Yifan has been here fifteen minutes.  After a long hard deliberation process which included a lot of enthusiastic yelling from Jongdae and pestering but encouraging comments from Jia, Yifan had relented to come.  It was only a matter of when he would actually show up really.  After the game had finished, he wasn’t about to tell a delightedly jumping on his teammates Lu Han ‘no’ after he called out to Yifan to be at Soccer House to celebrate later. 

 

“You’re coming out!” Lu Han had yelled as Yifan had tried to hear him over the yelling crowd.  “You’re hanging out with us and having fun!”  Saying no is kind of hard for Yifan when Lu Han didn’t really leave much room for arguments.

 

Yifan isn’t sure where Lu Han is in the house right now, making telling him congratulations on his win kind of hard.  Yifan is still going to try, because Lu Han asked him to.  Saying no to Lu Han and potentially disappointing is something that Yifan is pretty sure isn’t included in his programming.

 

Yifan is also sure that wearing guyliner, tight pants, a sparkly shirt and leather jacket also aren’t entirely in his programming but he also can’t really say no to Jia when she’s threateningly wielding glitter.  “A k-pop idol,” Yifan answers scowling drunk dude feeling very dumb.

 

“Oooh,” says the guy who Yifan is remembers is on the soccer team.  He recognizes him at least, one of the new players this year along with Jongin.  “Cool.”  He seems to have a habit of drawing out vowels.

 

Yifan doesn't have any idea what to do with himself.  Jia and Baekhyun vanished almost immediately upon arriving, Jia flashing a peace sign before running off in search of ‘fun’ and Baekhyun slinking off looking like he was about to go torture someone.  Some random guy yelling for no apparent reason had shoved a drink into Yifan’s hands about a minute after Yifan felt completely lost.  It tastes like horrible cold medicine.

 

Yifan is here for two reasons.  One of them is Lu Han.  The other is to prove to himself and Jongin and all of the people who sadly know him that he can possibly integrate into normal situations.  Yifan is mostly here for Lu Han though.  “Where is Lu Han?” Yifan hollers over the wall shaking bass from somewhere.  He’d like to find the soccer player not study date almost friend before it gets too late and he ingests too much alcohol.

 

“I’m Sehun,” the scowling guy says and lethargically punches Yifan in the pectoral.  This doesn’t answer Yifan’s question at all.  “Howdy.”

 

“Hi,” Yifan says as Sehun hiccups and laughs at himself, still swaying perhaps a bit more severely than before. “I’m Yifan.”

 

“Pans?” Sehun of the Scowls says, leaning forward too far.  “I can’t cook.  You should ask Chanyeol.  Do you want some ramen?”

 

“No, thanks,” Yifan says and Sehun sways back.  Without a word further, Sehun turns and walks away.  Decidedly unhelpful.  Frowning a bit to himself and remembering not to touch his hair lest he destroy the styling, Yifan turns to attempt to pushes through the masses of human bodies and try to find someone he knows.  He figures if he can find Jongin that will at least be helpful.

 

There are a lot of people in Soccer House.  The problem with finding someone is that everyone is in costume, smushed together, and the noise volume is painfully high.  Yifan takes a drink and grimaces, the flavor of alcohol poorly masked by what appears to be three different Koolaid flavors. Yifan slowly makes his way around, discovering drunk people, the living room, more drunk people, the side room, the kitchen, a lot of alcohol, and, surprisingly, even more drunk people.

 

“Are you an alien?” Yifan recognizes this guy from the team.  He and Lu Han are always laughing and warming up together.  He just has KIM on his jersey though so Yifan is always perplexed what to call him.

 

“No,” Yifan says and somehow even if he’s twice this guys height, he feels horrifically small.

 

“Don’t be stupid,” the loud team member says, stumbling forward and laughing.  His face stretches and his features, already large, seem to increase exponentially.  “He’s a male model, am I right, bro?”

 

Yifan has never been referred to as bro in his life.  It’s a little disconcerting.  “He’s a k-pop idol, you dumbass,” says a familiar voice and Yifan nearly deflates in relief when Jongin, looking squinty and slightly confused appears behind his lanky tall teammate.  Jongin appears to take a moment of looking hard at Yifan before he raises his arms in the air yelling louder than Yifan has ever heard him “We won!” followed quickly by “You’re here!” before he falls and lands on his tall teammate.

 

Yifan has seen Jongin drunk only a few times.  Now he remembers why he usually doesn’t go out when Jongin is pulled out for these ‘activities’.  Jongin lets out a loud laugh as his taller teammate stumbles a bit before laughing himself and then they’re both just laughing at each other.  Like idiots.

 

“Congratulations on the game,” Yifan tries, soberly, to compliment the team.  Who are, not soberly, trying to keep from falling over.  “You did a great job today.”

 

“CHAMPIONS!” is yelled so suddenly and so loudly Yifan takes a step back as something collides into KIM and laughs.  Everyone seems to think this is hilarious and it is with delayed surprise that Yifan realizes it’s the person he’s been looking for all night.  “Hi!” Lu Han half yells, looking up at Yifan and he smiles so wide his eyes disappear.  “You made it!”

 

“Of course,” Yifan says, choosing not to say ‘you asked me to be here’ and embarrassing himself.  “Great job today.”

 

“I’m always great,” Lu Han says with a laugh and it’s different.  Lu Han has his hair spiked up, clothing ripped a bit and his cheeks are flushed.  Yifan has no idea what he’s supposed to be.  “What are you?”  Lu Han is squinting at him.

 

“He’s a k-pop idol,” KIM says with his head tilted to the side.  “Do you dance too?”

 

“No,” Yifan says quickly.  He doesn’t really like parties.  He takes a drink of the child unfriendly Koolaid in his hands.  It still tastes like contraband cough syrup.  “It’s just-“

 

“You look really cool.”  Yifan’s stomach isn’t rejecting alcohol.  Instead this is just nerves and disbelief as he looks at Lu Han’s still smiling face.  Then he blinks and pulls back.  “By the way, have you even met the team?”

 

Yifan has never met the team.  Why would he have met the team?  He knows Jongin, who goes to practice and sometimes talks about them but for the most part, no Yifan has never been in a social situation in which he might meet the soccer team.  “Uh-“

 

“Shit!” Lu Han yelps before clapping a hand on KIM’s shoulder and shaking him close.  KIM looks reluctantly manhandled.  “This is Minseok.  He’s the boss man.  This one-“ he hits the tall expressive one in the chest.  “-is Chanyeol.  He’s loud.”  Chanyeol yells to confirm this before laughing.  Loudly.  “That’s Jongin.  I’m Lu Han.”  Lu Han laughs at himself.  His teammates laugh with him.  Yifan laughs too but he’s not entirely sure why.  Then he’s stumbling as Lu Han lurches forward and grabs his arm, tugging him into the mass of people.  “Come on!”

 

Yifan has no idea where they’re going, only that everyone seems to want to talk to, say hello to, or just touch Lu Han in general.  Lu Han grins cockily at all of them, yelling at most of the guys who whoop upon seeing him and setting Yifan’s system into discomfort.  Somewhere between the kitchen and the living room, the grip on his arm vanishes and so does Lu Han.  Leaving Yifan to stand in the mess of people with a nearly empty solo cup and feeling uncomfortable.

 

“You’re too tall to be here,” yells at him from the side and he looks down, feeling a rush of relief to see Jongdae looking around lazily beside him.

 

“Help me,” Yifan says desperately, shrinking down slightly to be closer to his friend.

 

“Why?” Jongdae asks, looking up at him and appearing confused.  “Where is your soccer star?  Did you lose him?”

 

“Yes?”  Jongdae looks up at him with one eyebrow higher than the other.  “I don't know, he just disappeared.”  Jongdae frowns.  “Are all parties like this?”

 

“Yeah, mostly,” Jongdae says before patting Yifan on the arm.  “I’m sure Lu Han will show up soon.  In the mean time, have you seen Baekhyun?  If he gets bitch slapped tonight, I want to be witness.”

 

“Okay?” Yifan says, not entirely sure what to say to that considering whether Baekhyun gets punched in the face or not isn’t on the top of his ‘concerns’ list.

 

“If you need me, come find me,” Jongdae says, saluting and smiling happily and before Yifan can ask ‘how?’ he’s vanished among the crowd.

 

“Hey!” has Yifan startling slightly, thankful that his cup is basically empty and looking down swiftly to see a magically appearing Lu Han right next to him and holding two cups.  “Here,” Lu Han says, happily shoving another cough syrup concoction into one of Yifan’s hands.  “Drink that, no one is allowed to be sober on a victory day.”

 

“Congrats on the win,” Yifan says, leaning down slightly and raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the party, feeling hot and warmer as Lu Han steps practically into his side, leaning up to hear him better.  “You did a great job today.”

 

“Thanks,” Lu Han returns, smiling up at Yifan.  “It was fun.  I’m glad you came to a game.”

 

There is warmth spreading over Yifan’s cheeks that he isn’t sure is because of the alcohol or the comment.  “I always come to the games,” he answers, looking between Lu Han’s upturned face and anywhere else.  Though he’s mostly looking at Lu Han’s face, which is surprised.

 

“Really?” Lu Han sounds shocked before he suddenly laughs, clapping a hand around Yifan’s shoulders.  “Oh right, you’re like weird best buds with Jongin.  Of course you go to the games.”

 

“And because of you,” Yifan says before he thinks.  He’ll blame the alcohol.  Can he blame it on the alcohol considering he’s barely had one cup?  Lu Han is staring at him.  For a brief moment Yifan wonders if this could be a little more embarrassing for himself before he remembers that he’s dressed like a giant k-pop idol.  Nope.

 

Then Lu Han laughs.  Laughs and laughs and bends over, his face creasing in amusement as he hits his knees and whoops in hilarity and Yifan feels good and horrible at the same time so he smiles uncomfortably.  Lu Han teeters, Yifan reaching out automatically to steady him as he stumbles slightly and Lu Han is suddenly leaning on him, drink sloshing dangerously in his hands as he laughs practically into Yifan’s arms.

 

Alcoholism will be the death of Yifan’s nervous system.  “You’re funny,” Lu Han gasps a second later, looking up at him, mirth still in his eyes.  “I like you.”  Yifan can’t swallow.  “And tall.  Drink up, it probably takes a keg to get you wasted or something.  You’re built like a human truck.”  Yifan will take that as a compliment as Lu Han reaches up and shoves his drink into his face yelling “Drink!” enthusiastically.

 

“What are you supposed to be anyway?” Yifan asks, looking down and trying not to grimace too much at the taste of horrible in his mouth.  The burning down his throat twists amid the snakes in his belly.

 

“I’m a werewolf,” Lu Han says gesturing a bit too widely and nearly smacking a girl in the back of the head.  He leans back and hits his head against Yifan’s shoulder before barking out a laugh.  “Or something.  I dunno, Sehun dressed me.”  He grins before scrunching up his nose at Yifan.  “You should be happy it’s not a full moon or I’d bite you.”

 

Yifan, who had just tentatively been taking a sip of the nasty drink, chokes, sputters, and then spits spectacularly at the statement, entire body lurching as Lu Han collapses into delighted laughter once more.  “What?!”

 

“Haha! Your face,” Lu Han whoops, bouncing back and practically dancing between hops.  There is a loud crash, the sound of cheering, and suddenly Lu Han is wide eyed and grinning, grabbing Yifan and shoving him along with the rest of the crowd towards the commotion despite Yifan’s clearly unwillingness.

 

Someone broke a table.  Apparently this is an amazing awesome thing rather than a sad and useless destruction of furniture.  In the mess of people all cheering happily at the guy in a bike helmet and the girl he had supposedly been dancing with on the table, Yifan gets shoved back.  With so many people, it’s hard to really fight with them even if he is bigger.  But that’s always been the case, other people not bothering to look up and see him despite his size.  Go around the big thing.  So it isn’t surprising that when he looks down, Lu Han is gone.  Lost amid the seat of heads and shouting and Yifan only spots him high fiving the table dancing dude before apparently getting wrapped up in the demands of the guests for dancing and other such bodily movements to what they call music.

 

“Hey!” Yifan blinks, half way through a gulp of the horrible drink as he turns to the speaker and sees the guy named… Chanyeol? Yeah, that one.  “You’re like a k-pop start right?”  He grins as Yifan stares at him and hopes he isn’t serious.  Chanyeol apparently is though as he makes a silly little dancing motion and does an arm movement similar to a hoedown.  “Get up there and show us your moves!”

 

“No,” Yifan says, shaking his head firmly and leaning back from Chanyeol as the other grins and guffaws, seeming to find his reaction amusing.  “Really, I’m okay.  I’m just an idol for my looks and singing skills.”

 

“Cool! So you’ll sing us a song?” Chanyeol apparently isn’t catching onto the whole costume thing.

 

“He’s not a real k-pop idol, dumbass,” Jongin slurs, arriving on the scene and hitting Chanyeol in the chest.  Hard.  Chanyeol laughs and hits Jongin back, surprisingly making him laugh and sputter into giggles that Yifan only sees rarely.

 

“Oh yeah, and what are you then?” Chanyeol laughs.

 

Jongin stabs himself in the chest with a finger emphatically.  “I,” he pauses for a deep breath as he draws himself up to his full height.  “Am a ligmistics professor.”

 

Yifan stares at Jongin.  Jongin turns to him and grins like he’s never grinned in his life before snorting loudly and laughing all over again, stumbling forward and head butting Chanyeol in the chest.  “Ligmistics!” Chanyeol shouts loudly and Yifan never needed to see any of this.  He finds himself laughing a little anyway because he’s a little tipsy and feels so awkward it seems the only legitimate response.  “Ligmistics and K-pop.  You should get married.”

 

“I object.”  The kid, Sehun or something, falls into the scene and makes a very weak grab for Yifan’s drink.  “I wanna get married.”

 

“Is Sehun wasted?” Jongin asks, squinting at the other boy as he pats Chanyeol’s face.  Chanyeol appears thoroughly amused by this and keeps laughing.

 

“I’m a pilot,” Sehun says and grabs Yifan’s cup before scowling and looking up at him.  “Did you drink all my alcohol?” he asks, looking very put out.

 

Yifan can’t breathe.  Jongin is going between looking serious and giggling, Chanyeol just keeps laughing, Sehun appears to be stuck on ‘permanently pissed’ and Yifan would like to go home.  He would like to find Lu Han and talk about something not this.

 

“Who gave Sehun alcohol?” Lu Han is back.  Yifan has never been more thankful until he sees the glazed look and lopsided smile as Lu Han latches onto Sehun’s side and pokes him in the face.

 

“I gave myself alcohol, thank you,” Sehun says and tries to stand up properly.  “For I am a grown man.”

 

Jongin snorts into laughter and Chanyeol hits him as he too laughs.  Lu Han hits both of them.  “This won’t do,” Lu Han declares, striding forward purposefully.  “I have to fix this.”  He grabs Yifan’s wrist, startling him out of his painful endurance of the drunken boys and pulling him along.

 

“Lu Han,” Yifan begins, feeling the sickly sweet alcohol in his stomach gurgle as Lu Han pulls them through the house, patting and high fiving and hugging people as he goes.  He’s being loud and over the top and not the Lu Han Yifan knows.  Or has come to know.  “Lu Han,” he tries again as Lu Han pulls him over to the drinks and gives the captain a high five.  “Lu Han!”

 

“You’re my pretty blond assistant,” Lu Han says in explanation, shoving three cups at Yifan and grinning up at him happily.  “I like the blond, by the way.  It’s good on you.”  His stomach turns.

 

“What are we doing?”

 

“Encouraging stupidity and debauchery,” Lu Han says with a mix of vowels as he reaches towards bottles of alcohol and begins mixing them in the cups Yifan is holding.  He sways slightly before blinking as he finishes the quick drinks.  “Celebrating properly.  Plus it’s Halloween.  No one is sober on Halloween.”

 

“Especially you,” Yifan says watching as Lu Han grabs two of the cups and stumbles off into the crowd, yelling out Jongin and Sehun’s names and abandoning him with a badly mixed drink.  Yifan wanted to congratulate Lu Han on the game, tell him he did a great job and have Lu Han see him, maybe talk a little bit and say stuff about the game that Yifan might not entirely understand but smile at anyway.  He hoped Lu Han would at least be Lu Han and smile and crack jokes, even if just a few.

 

Yifan didn’t really think about the whole part where Lu Han would be drunk and with his soccer buddies and the popular social guy that everyone knows him as, running around and over the top.  It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just…

 

Yifan takes a drink of the new mixed concoction Lu Han has made and left him with.  It tastes like sour straws and vodka.

 

“Here,” Yifan says, holding out the drink to a shorter guy that walks up.  Vaguely, Yifan recognizes him as the assistant for the team, short hair and short body and a nice face that is currently looking on the shores of third degree murder.  “You look like you need this more than I do.”

 

“Fucking hell,” the guy says, grabbing the drink and tossing it back, drinking fast enough that small drops of bright red mixed drink run down his chin before the throws the cup aside.  “I swear I’m going to fucking kill him.”

 

“Murder probably isn’t a good idea,” Yifan tells the shorter guy.  Because wow this guy is short, as in Yifan knows he’s tall but compared to this munchkin he’s actually a giant.  “I think it’s against the house rules.  And the law.”

 

“I don’t fucking care, it’s Halloween and weird shit happens,” the guy says darkly, his larger eyes set in a dangerous scowl.  He pauses, looking up at Yifan as he reaches to make himself another drink.  “Who are you?”

 

“I’m-“  Lu Han’s classmate?  Friend?  Something?  Jongin’s friend?  Awkward to be here?  “No one,” he says finally and the guy’s defined eyebrows rise.  “I’m no one.”

 

Those eyebrows stay high on the guys face.  “Hey, you okay?” he asks, putting down the empty cup as Yifan backs up a little.  He doesn’t need to be here, not really.  This is a celebration for the team, a night for the campus to celebrate a holiday which began in tradition and is now just an excuse for people to drink and wear too little clothing.  He doesn’t need to be here, Lu Han is obviously preoccupied with other things.  Lu Han, who is too loud, too intense, and seems entirely off from his usual slightly less… super jock self.

 

Yifan feels uncomfortable.  He shouldn’t be here.  He doesn’t really want to be here, not when being surrounded by early stage alcoholism and girls dressed up like various pornographic animal representations are surrounding him.  “I’m fine,” he says, not looking at the concerned guy beside him.  “I think I’m going to just… go home or something.”

 

The guy coughs.  “Really?” he asks. “It’s barely eleven.”

 

Looking around the room that smells like socks and booze, Yifan doesn’t really care.  He can see through the doorway the living room, full of people all dancing in a nauseating roll of movement and it’s so loud.  This isn’t a place for him.

 

Lu Han probably won’t mind if he leaves.

 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, nodding his head a few times as he convinces himself this is the correct course of action.  “Yeah, I’m going to head out.”  He throws the shorter guy a swift half hearted smile before walking away, pushing through the people.  He needs to say goodbye at least.

 

“Where is he?” Baekhyun yells at him as he passes, looking over Yifan’s shoulder animatedly.

 

“Who?” Yifan asks, bewildered.

 

“The guy!” Baekhyun yells angrily and nearly hitting Yifan in the face with the beer he’s holding.  “The guy who- Oh fuck, whatever.” He huffs angrily before shoving past Yifan.  Yifan decides he doesn’t need to tell Baekhyun he’s leaving.  Baekhyun appears distracted anyway.

 

It isn’t until a few minutes later of trying to make sense of the obvious fire hazard number of people that Yifan finds Jongin, slumped against the wall and laughing himself stupid as Chanyeol bops him with a snapback.  “Hey,” Yifan says, wondering if he’s interrupting something as Chanyeol jumps and Jongin hiccups a bit going bright red.  “I’m going to head home.  Have fun.”

 

Don’t draw it out.  Make it short and swift.  Like a flu shot.

 

Jongin is suddenly frowning at him.  “Why?” he asks, staggering a bit as he steps after Yifan.  “Why are you leaving so early?”

 

Yifan fidgets slightly under the intense look Jongin is giving him.  Jongin is still drunk, but the concern there is real and Yifan feels guilty.  Chanyeol also looks concerned from where he’s using the wall to support himself.  “Just… I’m tired.”

 

“Where’s Lu Han?” Jongin asks with a frown.

 

Yifan doesn't like this question game.  “I don’t know,” he admits.  “Probably-“

 

“He’d be sad if you left,” Jongin says, cutting him off as he steps forward a bit too much and staggers.  Yifan quickly steadies him as his eyes go unfocused.  “Why aren’t you two-“

 

“He’s busy,” Yifan says quickly, not entirely meeting Jongin’s unfocused eyes (though it’s a little hard to meet them when he can’t tell which way they’re looking).  “I’m sure he won’t-“

 

Jongin is grabbing his hand, walking through the mass of people three steps before he runs into someone and nearly falls flat on his ass.  He stumbles back, hitting Yifan in the chest and jumping a bit before breaking out into ridiculous peals of laughter that have Yifan staring.  A light tap on his shoulder has him turning, eyes wider than usual as he sees Chanyeol nodding in a strangely sage-like fashion.

 

“I’ll take him,” Chanyeol says, gently pulling a severely giggling Jongin from Yifan’s arms and smiling.  Jongin takes one look at Chanyeol before bursting out into laughter all over again and slumping on him.  “You go find the Lu Man.”  He gives Yifan a sort of salute before pulling Jongin off to the side as the younger hiccups giggles into his hands.

 

The problem with finding Lu Han is that Lu Han is lost somewhere amid the mass of people here.  Pulling out his phone, he quickly texts Jongdae and Jia, telling them he’s leaving, before pushing back into the living room and looking through the dining room.  It isn’t until he’s passing the stairs to the second level that he finally sees Lu Han with two girls on either side of him laughing at someone one of them has said.

 

The sensation in Yifan’s stomach is much similar to being hit there with a hammer.  It takes a moment before Lu Han seems to notice him, his eyes going wide.  Yifan is leaving.  He’s leaving now.  Right now.

 

“Hey!” Lu Han says cheerfully, waving one of the hands that’s connected to the arm draped around one of the girls.  “I was wondering where you went.”

 

Time to go.  “I’m going home,” Yifan says, stomach turning unpleasantly with Koolaid alcohol and snakes with legs.  He turns, stepping back before Lu Han does something to change his mind.

 

“Wait, what?”  Like that.

 

“I’m going home,” Yifan repeats, feeling nervous and jittery and not okay even if Lu Han is pulling himself from the girls swiftly.  They look at him indifferently.  Just like most people do, like they’re not sure why he’s there.  “Have a good night.”

 

“But you can’t leave!” Lu Han immediately protests, stumbling down the two stairs up he’d been standing on, swaying upright and holding onto the railing to steady himself.  “I’ve barely talked to you and-“

 

“Yeah,” Yifan says before he can stop himself.  “I know.”  He snaps his mouth closed.  He shouldn’t feel jealous or upset that Lu Han has other people he’d rather hang out with than himself.  He’s always known that, but somewhere inside he’d hoped…  Lu Han is staring at him in confusion.  “Happy Halloween, Lu Han.”

 

“Yifan,” Lu Han says, a whining edge to his voice as he hops down the stairs completely and punches him in the arm gently.  Yifan draws back at the action.  “You should stay.  It’s a party, have fun, you know?  Loosen up and just let go!”  He grins and holds his arms wide, looking up at Yifan with a smile that’s a little artificial at the edges.  “Enjoy yourself!” he says a bit too loudly a few people whoop, Lu Han nodding in agreement as he looks around proudly.

 

“Lu Han,” Yifan tries, feeling nervous and sick and wanting to go home but Lu Han is asking him to stay while acting like this and it’s not the same.

 

“Yifan,” Lu Han says, punching him in the shoulder.

 

“Stop it,” Yifan says, recoiling again from the punch.  He doesn’t want it.  He doesn’t want…

 

This.

 

“Stop what?” Lu Han laughs too loudly, leaning back exaggeratedly and glancing around.

 

“This,” Yifan said voice rising slightly as he took in the constantly distracted looks, the too wide smiles and the over the top attitude, the laughing that seems staged.  “This isn’t you.”  Lu Han makes a loud sputtering noise at him before laughing a bit.  It hurts.  “You’re not acting like yourself and-“

 

“Sure, I am,” Lu Han says, reaching out to punch Yifan in the arm again and this time Yifan shies away before Lu Han can hit him.  Lu Han’s eyes widen and his laughter stops a bit.  “I-“

 

“I’m not one of your bros,” Yifan tells him.  He knows that.  He’s known that all along.  He’s not close to Lu Han like his soccer bros, like his best friends who can hug him close and yell and joke easily.  He’s just Yifan, the guy who Lu Han studies with in the library and sometimes goes out with for coffee and dinner.  He’s just Yifan.  “I’m not one of you soccer buddies and I’m not your bro.  I’m just-“

 

“Yifan,” Lu Han says, his face creased and Yifan needs to go home now.

 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, shaking his head and trying to look anywhere but at Lu Han.  “Just Yifan.”  Lu Han is frowning at him, not severely as if angered or annoyed but like he’s confused.  Lu Han is looking at him like he’s one of the paintings from their class, where he can’t figure out why anyone ever bothers to paint a bowl of pears.  Like he doesn’t understand Yifan at all.  Yifan, with a delayed kick-start of his mind hindered by shitty Koolaid booze, realizes he needs to leave.  “Goodnight.”

 

“Wait!” Yifan starts as a hand grabs his arm in a strong grip and turns to see Lu Han frowning at him, eyes glazed and unfocused.  “You’ve barely had any fun!”  Lu Han’s face goes from frowning, a small scowl etched into his forehead before suddenly it cracks, entire face shifting into laughter.  Lu Han sits in class and chews on Yifan’s pen cap, taking notes and laughing at silly mostly lame jokes.  Lu Han nods to himself as he reads through notes and waves his fork while in the middle of shoving food into his mouth, gesturing through sentences.  Lu Han shoves his hands in his pockets and leans too close but never close enough.

 

Lu Han now is nearly against Yifan’s side, smelling of alcohol, eyes unfocused even as his laughter feels forced, the energy bordering on brash and something clicks.  Yifan realizes Lu Han is drunk, yes, but even if he wasn’t wasted, he’d be acting excessive any way.  He would be acting in a way Yifan knows is just a bit more than who he really is.

 

“Let go.”

 

“I don’t want you to go.  It’s lame.”  Lu Han coughs before jerking to look around the party.  “Want to play beer pong?”

 

“No,” Yifan sighs.  “Lu Han, I’m going home.”

 

“Why?” The ‘y’ of the interrogative is drawn out like a disgruntled and territorial cat’s growling meow.  Lu Han looks a bit like a disgruntled tom himself, hair a complete mess of too many hands and fingers running through it and face falling once more into that half focused imperious stare.

 

“Because you’re not you,” Yifan says, wondering if Lu Han can understand what he means in his current state.

 

“Sure, I am,” Lu Han laughs, face suddenly splitting into hilarity at Yifan’s comment.  “I’m Lu Han.”

 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, feeling a bit of a fall in his chest that drops down to swim in his tummy.  “You’re the popular soccer star Lu Han that everyone loves and who calls everyone ‘bro’.”  Lu Han is still laughing but he looks a little confused now.  “I came to see Lu Han who can’t understand impressionism and who nods off in the middle of bookshops.”  Lu Han’s not laughing anymore, the sound dying.  “I’ll see you later.”

 

Lu Han doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t try to stop Yifan from leaving again, he doesn’t even correct him, saying that this is also a part of Lu Han that Yifan just usually misses.  He doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t do anything.  Yifan presses his lips together as he walks down the front porch steps with difficulty and past a couple sitting on a tire making out furiously, the boy’s toga mostly reduced to his waist.  Yifan just goes home and texts Jongin to be safe.

 

 

- fourth break -

 

 

Around midnight, Yifan gets a text from Jongdae.  It reads:  FUCL TGIS PLACE.  WHERE R U? M DRHNK and Bark go DECKED.

 

Around twelve thirty, Yifan gets a text from Baekhyun.  It reads:  next time you fucking leave a mother fucking party goddamn tell me you whore because we had to fucking get TAEFUCKINGMIN to drive us the FUCK HOME and I HAVE A MOTERH BITCH FYCKIN BLACK EYE.

 

Yifan texts back:  I hope you never text your grandmother when you are drunk.

 

At one in the morning, Yifan receives a text fro Jia.  It reads: You left me with them all how dare you.  YOU LEFT ME WITH THEM. I hope your study date throws up on you.

 

At two in the morning, Yifan receives a message from Jongin.  It reads:  UIImMN FDGUuufgjTTT. LUJqHN YDF RE333333eertLLY SORP. :CC………. hgugsa

 

At three in the morning, Yifan is woken up by his phone ringing far too loudly for this time of the night.  Jongin’s roommate informs him that Jongin made it home, threw up, and is now asleep and reassures Yifan his friend is not dead.  He also tells him Jongin mumbled something about apologies and soccer and himself.  Yifan mumbles thanks and hangs up, rolling over and going back to sleep, sighing and pulling his comforter a bit more over himself.

 

Yifan didn’t think there could really be a Halloween that could top his first one on campus for most disappointing collegiate nights.  He was wrong.  Tonight was worse and the replaying image of Lu Han, the soccer star in all his glory seeing Yifan without actually seeing him hurts.  Yifan wonders if Lu Han really wanted him there at all or if he just asked him to be nice.  Yifan wonders if Lu Han would have noticed if Yifan had shown up or not.  A part of him wants to say yes just as much as another part is still stuck on the usual answer of ‘no’.

 

Yifan goes to sleep with the sinking realization that, even if Lu Han didn’t care, he still does.  Perhaps a bit more than he should.

 

 

-

 

 

Yifan wakes up at ten thirty in the morning on Sunday and frowns at his wall.  His mouth tastes like a hairbrush and his hair feels even worse.  He remembers to never ever let Jia choose a costume for him or style his hair with products he’s unfamiliar with before rolling over.  His room is the same as he left it.  His phone has four new messages.

 

Jongin has a hang over and apologizes for last night.  He also says Yifan should be kind.

 

Baekhyun apparently got bitch slapped by a fist and Jongdae is extremely pleased but into much pain to celebrate.

 

Lu Han has sent him a message.  It reads:  I’m possibly dying.  Can we study/hang at mine today?  I don’t think I’ll survive daylight.  Please bring snacks~

 

Yifan stares at his phone.  He looks at it four more times between taking a shower, getting dressed, and brushing the dead cat-like taste from his tongue.  He opens the text message at 1:30 when dressed in a warm sweater and washed jeans.  He decides that he’s a pushover and too nice for his own good as he’s standing in the mess and grabbing ‘hangover food’ to go.  He frowns at the text as he grabs a few bottles of Gatorade and wonders what it means exactly.

 

“Hey,” Lu Han says, opening his door and wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, hair even worse than last night, eyes bloodshot as he looks up, offering a weak smile before shuffling back into his room.  Yifan has never been to Lu Han’s room before, only known where it was from briefly texting Lu Han as he chose between tater tots and fries earlier.

 

“You look like hell,” Yifan says, hesitantly taking a step into Lu Han’s room.  Lu Han’s room.  Where Lu Han lives.  Where Lu Han sleeps.  Where Lu Han studies sometimes.  Where Lu Han has his clothes.  Where he takes his clothes off and puts them back on.  Where….

 

“I feel like I’m dying,” Lu Han says, voice like marbles in a blender and giving a horrible cough.  He drags a hand over his face before moaning and flopping down onto his bed in a mess of limbs, unhappy sounds, and blankets.

 

Surprisingly, Lu Han’s room isn’t all that messy.  A few things out of place, the costume from last night thrown carelessly on the desk chair and a large number of biology books stacked all over, but overall it’s fairly tidy.  The biggest mess is currently lying on the bed making pained noises.

 

Yifan still feels a bit annoyed at Lu Han.  Yifan still feels a bit sad and hurt and stupid about Lu Han.  Yifan also still wants Lu Han to look at him and is still a bit stunned Lu Han even texted him about studying together today after last night.  “What did you want to study today?”

 

“My bed,” Lu Han grunts to said object.  “So far, I have a basic hypothesis.  It’s comfortable.”  Yifan feels the corner of his mouth twitching.  “I need to further evaluated it though to make proper observations.  This may take all day.”

 

Yifan would like to laugh and find Lu Han funny and smile at him in a proper fashion that isn’t too big but Yifan’s mind flashes to the night before, where Lu Han disappeared more than appeared and kept punching him in the shoulder.  Where Yifan saw more of the soccer team combined than he did Lu Han.  Where the guys Chanyeol and Sehun seemed more attentive and interested than the person who actually knew Yifan; who had invited him.

 

The to go container slides easily on to the desk as Yifan adjusts his shoulder bag.  He’s early enough that he can slip into the library before anyone notices, before Jongin legitimately wakes up and can ask him what he’s up to today.  Before Baekhyun or Jongdae can ask him how last night went.  “I take it you don’t want to study today,” Yifan says, voice a little quieter that it might usually be.  “I’ll just-“ he shifts, turning to the door and half caught between wanting to go and wanting to stay.  Mostly, he’s pretty sure the second labels him a masochist.

 

Lu Han rolls over, sitting up a bit and scrunching his face.  He looks horrific and tired and in pain and somehow still attractive and nice.  Yifan resists the urge to pat his hair down from its current state of defying gravity.  Lu Han swallows, and then smiles.  Painfully.  “Not really a study day,” Lu Han admits and Yifan thinks, yes maybe it’s time to leave.  “I’m sorry,” Lu Han says and Yifan pauses.

 

The real question is does Lu Han know why he’s apologizing.  Yifan isn’t entirely sure, so he mostly just stands and waits.

 

Lu Han sighs and runs a hand through his horrible amazing hair.  “I’m sorry about last night.  I didn’t-“  Lu Han reaches forward to the food on his desk, grabbing the Gatorade and bringing it to his lap.  “I wasn’t really a good host.”

 

“You weren’t even a host,” Yifan points out.  “You have to live in a house to host a party there.”  Lu Han gives him a hungover look.  Yifan isn’t one to really feel hurt by Lu Han being bro and the soccer star last night, acting over the top and watching everyone else on campus but him.  It’s not his business what Lu Han does. But- “Besides, you won the game.  You’re supposed to go over the top and be all wild and crazy and happy and-“ He still doesn’t feel great about the whole thing.

 

“And you were mostly right,” Lu Han cuts him off.  Yifan stills, watching Lu Han take a tentative sip of Gatorade.  “I just, I never think about it anymore.”  He shuffles back a bit, settling further into the bed before looking up at Yifan.  “You wanna sit down?”

 

Yifan contemplates the consequences of siting directly beside Lu Han.  “Not really.”  They’d possibly be disastrous.  Especially if Lu Han is, as is most likely, not wearing pants.  Yifan already has enough to deal with, like swallowing normally.  “I’m okay here.”

 

Lu Han looks at him like he’s in pain.  Lu Han probably is in pain.  Hangovers suck.  “Last night,” Lu Han says, wetting his lips with his tongue.  “You were right.  It’s less that I’m not myself but more that I just get carried away when I’m-“  He pauses and Yifan waits, wondering where this will go.  “When I’m being what I’m expected to be.”  The laugh Lu Han gives this time doesn’t sound entirely heartfelt.

 

Yifan frowns, feeling a bit less begrudging as he shifts, finally dropping his shoulder bag and taking a step forward.  He makes to hand Lu Han the to-go container of food and Lu Han shakes his head no.  Instead, Yifan hesitantly sinks down on the edge of the bed, a distance from Lu Han and yet not obnoxiously so.  “Why do you-?”  Yifan makes a vague hand gesture, frowning slightly as he does so and wondering if this is breaking the whole ‘not quite friends’ barrier of their whatever.

 

The soft laugh that Lu Han gives before he takes another sip of Gatorade tells Yifan maybe they can talk about stuff that doesn’t have to do with art history, classes, and the vague hints of their social life.  That they can talk like they know each other.  “I guess it’s just easier to,” Lu Han says, looking at his room with a small frown.  “Rather than tell them all I’d rather be focusing on internships and reading up on medical journals than seeing who won a keg stand, it was just easier to go along with it.  Plus,” he says with a wan smile.  “You don't really protest when Changmin Shim tells you to do something.  That’s never really a good move.”  He sighs, setting the Gatorade on the desk beside his bed before flopping backwards.  “It’s easier to act like they want, like they expect me to and learn the rules of what’s okay and what’s not than to fight against them.”

 

“It sounds like you’re talking about science,” Yifan says quietly, thinking how Lu Han explains the chemistry and bio work he has to do, the physics and formulas.  It’s all rules and figures where as Yifan’s life is built on abstract thought and creation.  He’s a humanities kind of guy and Lu Han is mathematical.

 

“I understand rules,” Lu Han says with a tired smile.  “I can follow them.  Sometimes breaking them is scary.  Like putting sodium in water.”  He looks over at Yifan as if to share this analogy and Yifan is a little lost but feels like he gets the gist somehow.

 

Yifan starts the afternoon sitting on Lu Han’s bed getting a small crick in his neck as he watches Lu Han explain from where he’s splayed out on the bed, eyes closed half the time and with vague hand gestures, why he’s here.  Not in the sense of why he’s here on the planet, but why he’s here at the university.  A soccer scholarship that gave him a full ride for playing on the team, offering room and board and classes for what he wanted, which was a way to study medicine.  For the soccer star that is pitched to love soccer more than life, being pegged to go play professionally, hearing Lu Han talk about balancing his extra labs and soccer practice and games makes even Yifan tired.

 

“I actually wanted to try to graduate early,” Lu Han says when Yifan has given up on remaining half turned and finally slouched down slightly, resting on his elbow as Lu Han absently taps his fingers on the covers.  “But I don’t think the team, let alone the coach or the scholarship board would be okay with that.”

 

“So because you’re supposed to be the soccer star who does all the cool kid stuff, you act like a caricature of yourself?” Yifan asks, frowning slightly.

 

Lu Han flashes him a look, turning in the bed and hitting him gently, unlike the previous night, instead more of a playful push to the chest.  “Not all of us don’t care what the cool guys think.”

 

“I do care!” Yifan says before thinking, eyes widening at the statement without realizing the sole reason he cares is lying beside him within reach.  “Everyone cares what other people think,” he finishes, looking at where Lu Han’s hand now rests in the bed beside him and empty.  Yifan’s lies close to it.  His hand dwarf’s Lu Han, the thought of how it might feel in Yifan’s making the whole swallowing thing much more difficult.

 

“Are you kidding?” Lu Han laughs.  “I’ve heard enough from Jongin and seen enough of it myself.  You barely even glance at other people to see what they think of you.  You’re like a walking wall of ‘do not care’.”  He laughs at his own comment, rolling a bit on the bed and smiling.

 

“Well, not all people matter,” Yifan protests, frowning a bit.  “Just a few.”

 

“Like who?” Lu Han is smiling, eyes crinkled in amusement as he looks at Yifan.  Saying ‘you’ feels like a very revealing statement to Yifan, like if he says that he may as well just openly state he’s idolized the young man in the bed beside him since he saw him and may or may not want to see how chapped his lips are after an intense soccer game.  “If you say Minho I’m kicking you off of my bed.”

 

“Who’s Minho?” Yifan asks, smiling a bit at the shove Lu Han gives him anyway, snorting a bit.  “Why would I idolize your goalie?  Jongin kind of ruined him after explaining how he threw up on a bus.”

 

“Jongin threw up too,” Lu Han adds with a smirk.

 

“Yeah, well, it’s Jongin,” Yifan says, grinning now as Lu Han laughs again.  It’s nice, hearing him laugh like this, even if he has dark circles under his eyes and the tired lines of his face don’t seem to fade.  “My best friend doesn’t count.  Besides, I’m pretty sure I judge him more than he judges me.”

 

“You sure?” Lu Han teases.

 

“I judge everyone,” Yifan says, his grin widening.

 

“Except,” Lu Han prods, poking him again, rolling a bit onto his side as he watches Yifan intently.

 

Lu Han is sprawled, half on his side, watching Yifan with a small smile that spells mayhem and amusement.  Yifan is appropriately lying barely a stretch away, looking back at Lu Han and feeling that familiar faint and growling sensation in his chest that he’d been trying to play off as residue of a hangover he never had.  With Lu Han this close, and the answer to his question just a word away, Yifan’s mouth is dry.  He decides to change the topic.  “Why don't you just be yourself though?” he asks, pushing his fingers against the bedspread and frowning at it instead of Lu Han.

 

Lu Han scrunches up his nose.  “Who would really want to hang out with pre-med soccer enthusiast Lu Han though instead of-“

 

“Me,” Yifan blurts out before Lu Han can finish and cutting him short.  Lu Han looks at him with wide eyes.  Swallowing down a small lump that certainly wasn’t there before, Yifan looks at the blanket instead of Lu Han.  “I’d hang out with you.”

 

It’s quiet.  Neither of them say anything, only the sound of Yifan’s own beating heart in his own ears serves to keep him company as well as the soft breathing beside him.  Lu Han doesn’t say anything and Yifan just stares at the blanket and wills away the embarrassed rise of heat to his face.  But he doesn’t want to take it back.  He would hang out with Lu Han.  He likes Lu Han.  Even more so now that he knows him.  Yifan probably likes Lu Han far more than Lu Han knows or would return.  Which is depressing if Yifan sits and thinks about it for extended periods of time.

 

Lu Han doesn’t say anything.  Instead Yifan starts slightly as a smaller hand closes over his own fingers, stopping them from poking at the bedspread.  Lu Han’s hand isn’t soft like Jia’s or Baekhyun’s.  It isn’t rough like Yixing’s used to be from too much guitar playing.  It is just there, warm skin that has a few callouses and is strong in its grip as Lu Han holds his own.  Yifan’s pulse is louder and faster than it’s typical bpm.  He wonders if the aspiring doctor can notice it.

 

Lu Han doesn’t let go after releasing the pressure around Yifan’s hand, instead keeping his hand atop Yifan’s.  When Yifan looks up finally and meets his look, it’s on him.  Lu Han is smiling, but not in the brilliant way he does after a game.  He’s not smiling like he does at his team or his friend group.  He doesn’t smile like he did when they first met.  It’s a softer smile, his eyes visible and not yet crinkled to slits.

 

Yifan wonders how many people Lu Han has smiled at like this.  How many hearts melted like his is kind of doing right now.

 

“Thanks,” Lu Han says, voice quieter that it’s ever been.  “And I’m still sorry.”  He swallows.  So does Yifan.  “About last night.”  His smile turns apologetic around the corners and Yifan’s own mouth tugs slightly in nervous reply.  “I really was happy you were there, even if I wasn’t… there.”

 

“The duties of being a soccer star hang higher than hanging out with the guy from art history,” Yifan says easily, giving a small half hearted but mostly soulless laugh.

 

The look Lu Han gives him isn’t sharing the joke though.  He frowns slightly before looking down, face relaxing slightly as he looks at Yifan’s hand, his fingers gently pulling at it to lie, palm open, against the bed.  Yifan watches as Lu Han fits his own hand over it, palm flat against it.  He watches a small soft smile spread gently over Lu Han’s mouth, replacing the frown just as he feels the warm press of Lu Han’s skin against his, fingers flush against his.  He feels his breath try to catch and holds it back, knowing that this close, it’s impossible for Lu Han to miss it.

 

Yifan watches as Lu Han studies his hand, feels as his fingers flex, stretched against his own.  Yifan has watched Lu Han nod off to sleep beside him, felt him lean too close when asking about notes, and last night had those fingers gripping his hand in careless pulling and guidance. It’s different now though, as Lu Han looks up at him.

 

“Your hands are massive,” Lu Han informs him.  Jongin has told him this.  Joonmyun and Jongdae have both stated this.  Baekhyun calls them ‘dinner plates’ rather than hands.  This is the first time Yifan has felt anything but relatively numb indifference for the comment.

 

“Baekhyun calls them plates,” Yifan says, knowing before the words leave his mouth they’re stupid and unrelated.

 

“More like planetary objects,” Lu Han says with a wider smile.  Somehow, Yifan knows the tease in Lu Han’s voice isn’t like it is with Jongdae or Jia.  It makes that giddy feeling that he’s become a little bit used to impossibly worse.

 

Lu Han does eventually eat the food Yifan brought.  He informs Yifan as he chews of the time Minseok, the shorter player Yifan had once seen Lu Han carry off the field from an injury, had tried sitting on Lu Han’s bed like Yifan is doing.  He laughs as he recounts flipping the other guy head over heels for his violation.  He tells Yifan about medical research and the lives he wants to save.  He tells Yifan about how he never protested his parents and their desire for him to chose a medical profession because he already wanted to help people.

 

Lu Han laughs when Yifan tries to get up after the Minseok story, pushing him back down and telling him it’s fine.  He asks Yifan about journalism and what he wants to do.  He laughs and hits Yifan upon hearing he’s still confused a bit about the positions on the soccer team, reminding him Jongin is his best friend.  He groans in protest when Yifan refuses point blank to draw him the dragon he requests and he scoffs in amusement when Yifan tries to get up after Lu Han announces it’s ‘nap time,’ instead grabbing him by the wrist and keeping him in place.

 

“I thought you didn’t let people on your bed,” Yifan reminds him, smiling widely as Lu Han, obviously feeling better than when Yifan had arrived a few hours ago, shuffles further onto his bed.

 

Lu Han, who has one eye open and is 4/5ths on the bed, cocks an eyebrow at Yifan with a playful smile.  “You can be the bed exception,” Lu Han says before yanking on Yifan’s wrist and disrupting his balance entirely.

 

Lu Han drools in his sleep sometimes.  It’s a little gross at less than a foot away.

 

Yifan kind of likes Lu Han anyway.

 

 

-

 

 

“It’s worse.”  Jongdae hits Baekhyun in the back of the head.  Baekhyun winces and punches him in the arm.  “I’m injured!” he yelps as his indifferent looking friend.

 

“Not in the back of the head,” Jongdae replies easily.  “Only your pride.”

 

“And face,” Jia reminds helpfully, gesturing to the impressive purple mark on the left side of Baekhyun’s face that is a brilliant contrast with his usual lighter skin tone.  “Quite a shiner.”

 

“Which is not the back of his head,” Jongdae repeats, hitting Baekhyun in the back of the head again just to emphasize this.  “See?” he says as Baekhyun yelps and turns swiftly to glower at him.  “Not his face.”  He grins at Baekhyun as the obviously pissed battered boy begins to hit him repeatedly with vaguely slapping motions.  “You hit like a girl!”

 

“Shut up!” Baekhyun snaps.

 

The noise level has Joonmyun hissing at all of them from over his stack of political science notes and post-its, shoving a highlighter up against his lips instead of a finger in his haste.  “You’ll get us thrown out!  Finals are right around the corner!  We need to study!”  He emphasizes every end of the sentences with a small flick of his highlighter.  “Do you mind?!”

 

“Finals are over a month away,” Jia points out, drawing stars in the corners of her notes.  “Joonmyun, are you planning your panic attacks ahead of time too?”

 

“Someone has to,” Baekhyun half grumbles.  “Considering Yifan is too busy mooning to have his normal quota.”

 

Yifan, who has been sitting happily reviewing his notes on art and not spacing off about the weekend, jerks to attention, shaking his head slightly from where his mind had most definitely been on Monet.  “What?”

 

“Remember that time Baekhyun got decked in the face?” Jongdae asks with a vague look on his smiling face before he focuses on Yifan.  “Oh right, you weren’t there.”

 

“Did you and Lu Han make up?” Jia asks, leaning over the table and being one of the few at their table to keep her voice down.

 

“Why would we-?”

 

“Of course they did,” Baekhyun scoffs at her, tossing bits of the notes he’s been shredding at her.  “He’s smiling like he just got laid, of course they made up.”

 

“Baekhyun, please,” Jongdae tries, hitting him upside the head again and smirking at the grit teeth Baekhyun immediately bares in his direction.  “Not all of us need you to ruin what was probably perfectly innocent.  Maybe I can ask your little friend to teach you another lesson.”

 

“Friend?” Yifan asks, blinking and slightly confused.  “What exactly did I miss?”

 

“A lot,” Baekhyun says, shrugging back into his chair and hitting Jongdae for good measure.  “Drunk stuff, people making out, Jongin dancing, which is kind of normal except this time he was topless.  More drunk people, Jongdae made out with a girl, Jongin made out with a guy-“

 

“What?!” Yifan did not know this but it would certainly explain why Jongin hasn’t been around much lately, if at all.  Jongin tends to box himself up in his own cocoon of ‘don’t touch me I’ll bite you’ when he’s done or been through something unexpected.  Or traumatic and entirely unsettling.

 

Baekhyun ignores him and continues.  “Someone broke a couch, I made out with a girl-“

 

“Then got punched in the face after he-“ Jongdae attempts to contribute to the conversation.

 

“JONGDAE PASSED OUT IN A SINK,” Baekhyun plows on, voice rising as he glares angrily at the table.

 

“-tried to pants a guy in the middle of the front lawn,” Jongdae finishes with a triumphant grin.

 

“Jongin made out with a guy?” Yifan asks, frowning as he pulls out his phone, looking at Baekhyun and wondering what else happened that he doesn’t know about.  For example, what the other guy did, and, most importantly, if Jongin is okay.  Yifan may have accepted his sexuality a long time ago and goes along his life just with the regular acceptances that he prefers men but Jongin has always kept the little known fact extremely quiet that he’s a little more inclined to guys than ladies.

 

“Seriously? That’s all you’re going to take away from that whole summary of the night?” Jongdae asks, sounding incredulous as he stares at Yifan across the table.

 

“Well, it does seem a bit important,” Yifan points out, checking the time and frowning.  Soccer doesn’t get over for another hour or so.  They have been having more and more practices with the season drawing to a close and picking up on competition, meaning Jongin and Lu Han have been practicing more than usual.  Lu Han had informed Yifan as he left on Sunday that he might fall asleep on him during class.

 

Yifan has been rolling those mental images around for the past twenty four hours or so.

 

“What if it was Joonmyun that made out at the party?” Baekhyun asks, looking at the student center worker and smirking at the sputter he earns.

 

“Joonmyun was at the party too?” Yifan asks, confused and pausing as he looks up from his phone.

 

“No!” Joonmyun protests and glares at Baekhyun.  “I was not!”

 

“This is the kind of stuff that gets you punched in the face,” Jia tells Baekhyun as he grins and flicks paper scraps in her direction.

 

“I thought pulling down another guys pants and shoving your hand against his cock got that reaction,” Jongdae says before yelping loudly when Baekhyun decides to hit him again.  With his textbook.

 

“I was drunk!” Baekhyun snaps.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to touch another guys dick,” Yifan comments idly as he looks back at his phone and ignores the antics of his friends.  He does it most of the time anyway, so now isn’t that much different.  He winces when Baekhyun hits him with the book instead.  Baekhyun, it turns out, actually hits pretty hard.  Yifan opens his mouth to protest when his phone buzzes.

 

Save me from this I feel like my legs are going to fall off.

 

Immediately, Yifan’s face breaks into a smile.  Before he had left on Sunday, Lu Han had smiled at him, warm and genuine and entirely him.  For once, Yifan felt like Lu Han saw him, all of him, and mostly was okay with him.  He’s been smiling ever since the door closed.  Well, mostly smiling.  He has other facial expressions too, but smiling so far seems to be the most prevalent.

 

“Oh god, he’s doing it again,” Baekhyun groans, as he leans forward to splay on the table.  “Seriously, who let Yifan smile?”

 

“God,” Jia answers, tossing the paper shreds into Baekhyun’s hair.  “You keep smiling Yifan.  Makes you look so pretty.”

 

“I’m not pretty,” Yifan says, throwing her a look that says stop the teasing.  “Men are supposed to be handsome.”

 

“Says you who pines after Lu Han,” Jongdae laughs.

 

“Lu Han is handsome,” Yifan defends, his mind flashing to Lu Han running on the soccer field, hair flying off his face and body strong.  Lu Han hunched over a book and frowning seriously at the text, chewing on a pen cap and features thrown into sharp relief.  Lu Han curled up and face relaxed, pillowed among blankets and hand curled half over Yifan’s in slumber.  Yes, Lu Han is handsome.

 

“Of course you defend your study date,” Baekhyun grumbles to the table.  “Just like a good boyfriend.”

 

“We’re not-“

 

“You kind of are,” Jongdae interjects and Yifan feels both like he’s being squeezed into a box and there is a happily purring kitty in his chest.  It’s a weird mix between elation and nervous paranoia.  “In a weird sort of not dating but mostly actually dating way because you two definitely aren’t friends.”

 

“We’re not,” Yifan says, even if the idea seems far more appealing and fantastic.  Lu Han hasn’t really done anything.  Yifan doesn’t even know if Lu Han knows about his interests.  They haven’t really had that conversation yet.  Or a lot of conversations yet, really.  “We’re just…”

 

Yifan isn’t sure how to end that sentence.  Yifan isn’t sure what he and Lu Han really are.  In a strange way that kind of gives makes him hopeful.

 

 

-

 

 

The first thing Lu Han does when he gets to art history is collapse into his desk and moan instead of properly reply to Yifan’s inquiry about how he is.  “Long practice?” Yifan asks, already kind of knowing that it was from Jongin having come over post soccer and curling up on his bed and moaning at random intervals.  Something about ‘angry assistants’ and ‘horrible captains’.

 

“I am in pain,” Lu Han moans, voice hindered by the surface of his desk and his sweatshirt hood.  “Real pain.”

 

“As opposed to fake pain,” Yifan says, smiling regardless at Lu Han who flashes him a look, finally turning to look at him.  “Which only exists in the circus.”  Lu Han, surprisingly, laughs a bit, sinking back to sit in his seat properly before pulling out his notebook.  He takes a long look at it, seemingly in contemplation, before throwing it on Yifan’s desk.  They have seven minutes until class.  “What?” Yifan asks, looking at the notebook in confusion.

 

Lu Han gestures at the notebook, open to a blank page.  “Draw me something,” Lu Han says, smiling as he lies against the desktop and watches Yifan.

 

Color and heat splash over Yifan’s cheeks.  “No,” he says automatically.

 

“Please?” Lu Han asks, pulling a semi-sad frown and kicking slightly in Yifan’s direction.

 

“You’re just going to make fun of it,” Yifan says, feeling that familiar feeling bubbling in his chest of a happy purring cat.  It clashes terribly with the snakes in his tummy.

 

“Probably,” Lu Han concedes with a grin and then laughs at Yifan’s sigh and shake of the head.  Yifan only looks up again when he feels the light tap of a pen against his arm.  Lu Han is leaning over to him, smiling that smile that is just a hint softer.  “Draw me something anyway?”

 

Purr purr goes the kitty.  Yifan doesn’t bother hiding the smile this time.  “I’ll think about it,” he tells Lu Han who laughs in the way that makes his eyes crinkle and his teeth flash.  Yifan may have to admit Jia is a little right.  Lu Han is occasionally pretty, though his overall self is nothing but handsome in Yifan’s mind.

 

“I’ll just keep asking,” Lu Han says, tapping Yifan’s pen against his arm and then drawing back, taking his notebook.  Midway through the lecture he passes Yifan a note that says ‘what about a frog?’ to which Yifan just gives him a pointed look.  Lu Han grins at him and raises his eyebrows in encouragement.

 

 

-

 

 

As the weather gets colder, students begin to bundle themselves up in cocoons of fabric, nice almost winter sweaters cuddled as hot coffee and tea is cradled between cold hands.  Wooly big hats rest atop heads and Baekhyun sneezes at Yifan as soon as he sits down across from him in the student center.

 

“Remind me why you’re here?” Yifan asks, looking up with a look that speaks more than his actual vocabulary.

 

“Sup,” Baekhyun says with a nasty smile, voice clogged and muted and red rimming his eyes.  “Want to go for a walk?”  He grins and then gives a nasty wet cough.

 

“This is why I told you to get a flu shot,” Yifan sighs, shaking his head.  “You should be in bed, not going to walks.  It’s cold and you might die.”

 

“I’ll be a tragic death,” Baekhyun says, standing up and grabbing Yifan’s books, shoving his papers in the complete incorrect order into his bag.  Yifan frowns, wondering just how many contagious bacteria Baekhyun is planting on his school things.  “A young dashingly handsome youth succumbing to the pain of death before his time.”

 

“Due to his own stupidity,” Yifan adds and Baekhyun grins, sniffing dramatically and patting Yifan on the shoulder.  Yifan grimaces.  “Why walking?”

 

“I have to give my anthro partner notes from the lecture the other day,” Baekhyun says, giving a small cough.  “And you know how I like company when I visit people.”

 

Yifan is a little skeptical, but Baekhyun is one of his friends so he agrees to go along with him.  Baekhyun ends up shrugging his coat up around his ears, tucked up and looking much like a chestnut with legs as he tucks his face down.  It’s been a week since Halloween and so far classes are becoming horrible, the deadlines all piling up much like they tend to where multiple papers are all due on one day and the inevitability of not sleeping grates on Yifan’s nerves.

 

The fact that he has his next few weeks until Fall break planned out doesn’t remove the reality that Yifan will be pulling a few all-nighters.  Nights where Yifan can’t sleep are like dying.  He thinks for a moment of how Lu Han has been looking progressively more and more exhausted and wonders if he’s busy later.  Probably, considering the soccer practices are more and more frequent, meaning less text messages and more with the words Can I sleep on you?  These are typically interspersed with teasing and jokes that always manage to make Yifan smile despite his better judgment.

 

Baekhyun stops short when they enter the tutoring center, frowning and giving a loud sniff of surprise as he looks at one of the larger tables.  Joonmyun looks up with a confused crease between his eyes as the guy next to him continues to do his work, apparently ignoring everyone.  Yifan recognizes him vaguely as the ‘semi concerned’ guy from the party that had angrily gotten himself a drink. “What?” Joonmyun asks, a pen spinning in his fingers.

 

“Why do you two know each other?” Baekhyun asks, looking at the table as Yifan looks at everyone and decides he’d rather not.  He digs out his phone, checking for messages before typing out ‘want to get dinner later?’ and pressing send.

 

“Who?” Joonmyun looks confused.  The other guy looks up and scowls.  “Us?”  Joonmyun gestures between himself and the other guy.  Who is still scowling the scowls of scowls at Baekhyun.

 

“I didn't know you had any classes with Joonmyun,” Yifan says, turning to look at Baekhyun with a raised eyebrow.

 

“What do you want?” the other guy asks, not bothering to properly engage in light conversation.  “I’m busy.”

 

“You two know each other?”  Joonmyun’s confused face turns surprised without much grace.

 

“I finished my part of the project,” Baekhyun says, striding forward and sniffing pointedly as he drags the papers from his bag.  “No soccer practice today?”

 

The guy glares at him with hard eyes, not taking the offered papers.  “Later,” he says, shaking dark low bangs from his face as he looks up at Baekhyun.  “Are you trying to infect me?”

 

Suddenly, Baekhyun’s face falls into that familiar smirking and what he calls ‘seductively awesome’ and Jongdae refers to as ‘asshole of assholes’ expression.  “I can think of other far more effective ways to infect you.”  He grins as Joonmyun’s face explodes in shock and Yifan watches as Baekhyun gets punched in the stomach.

 

Hard.

 

Yes please I’m starving Lu Han texts back before Also, can we get drunk tomorrow?

 

Why? Yifan texts back, frowning slightly as Baekhyun wheezes into a mad coughing fit and the other guy looks about on the verge of murdering him.  Joonmyun is just sitting in shock saying “Baekhyun, I didn’t know you swung both ways.”

 

Because I can’t take Picasso sober Lu Han answers and Yifan has to admit he has a point, nodding at his phone as Baekhyun snorts a laugh as he tries to poke the irate guy in the neck and gets hit with a calculator in the ear.

 

 

-

 

 

Lu Han drops his bag unceremoniously on the floor as soon as he steps inside the door, walking into the small dorm room and nodding in apparently appreciation as he looks around.  “You’re a very clean person,” he tells Yifan with a nod, looking back at him with a smile before tipping backwards onto Yifan’s bed.  Yifan thinks he looks pretty good lying there.  Then again, Yifan thinks Lu Han looks good when he’s hung over and complaining about needing to throw up so Yifan thinks he probably just has a soft spot or Lu Han regardless.

 

“I like to be organized,” Yifan says, setting his bag on his desk and sitting down in his desk chair, watching Lu Han prop himself up and look around.  “It helps keep the rest of your life in order and I don’t forget stuff.”

 

Yifan likes his room.  It’s a nice room.  Clean and orderly and a nice place to return to.  After grabbing dinner, which Yifan had paid for before Lu Han could protest, telling Lu Han that someone who is working to the bone at a side job deserves to be treated every now and then.  Lu Han looked like he wanted to protest before he smiled that smaller more genuine smile and nudged into Yifan’s side, lingering there for a moment, his thanks unspoken but understood anyway.

 

Lu Han had suggested, after they wandered around the library for a good fifteen minutes to no success, that they study in Yifan’s room.  “The library is like a stress tank,” Lu Han said, pulling Yifan along by gently tugging at his backpack straps.  “Seriously, a panic room of students slowly putting themselves into shock.  Plus we can’t drink there.”

 

Yifan doesn’t often drink, as he reminded Lu Han and didn’t mention Halloween.  Lu Han had nodded, simply smiling and telling him ‘no pressure’ with a few pats on the back that rested there.  It had stayed there until Yifan had to unlock the door of his room.

 

“How is soccer?” Yifan asks, opening his bag and looking through it, pulling out books and notes and a few pens.  He has the art history project to do as well as a few assignments for his other classes.  “Jongin says that you guys have had a ton of extra practices.”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Lu Han says, sighing and dragging a hand over his face.  He pushes himself up, walking to his own bag and picking up, dragging from it a bottle that looks like alcohol and smiling in a way that looks like suggestion.  Yifan doesn’t say no.  “Picasso,” Lu Han says in explanation before uncapping the liquor and taking a drink before passing it to Yifan.

 

Yifan holds it for a moment before offering a small smile.  “Picasso,” he replies and lets the burn of alcohol run down his throat.

 

Lu Han doesn’t get drunk.  Instead, a light tinge to his face, he laughs about cubism and pulls Yifan to sit with him on the bed ‘because it’s lonely’ and tells him about how his family keeps asking if he’ll come home for winter break.  He tells Yifan that there’s a game on Saturday.  He tells Yifan that the team is a little weird after Halloween and Jongin keeps missing his goals.  He tells Yifan that his bed is comfy and rolls over, leaning over Yifan and pressing into his side.

 

“Draw me a horse,” Lu Han asks, looking at him with pink tinged cheeks and eyes that smile as much as his mouth.

 

Yifan’s response is automatic.  “No,” he says, pulling away slightly as he looks down at Lu Han.  He smells like soap and shampoo, clean from the shower he took after practice and before dinner.  “I’m not going to draw you a horse.”

 

“What about a goat?”

 

“No,” Yifan says, feeling the corner of his mouth as Lu Han grins at him.  “Go work on Picasso.”

 

“You’re more fun than Picasso,” Lu Han says and Yifan’s heart blips.  “It’s more fun to figure out what your drawings are than his.  His look like he had a seizure.  You are like a child’s interpretation.”

 

The notebook in Yifan’s lap hits Lu Han’s face lightly as he frowns without anger.  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

 

It’s quiet for a good fifteen minutes before Lu Han nudges him in the side with toe.  “Thanks,” he says, voice quiet and Yifan looks up in surprise to see Lu Han leaning over his work, not looking at him but he’s not writing so Yifan waits.  “For dinner,” Lu Han finishes and his goes back to writing.

 

“Of course,” Yifan says, watching Lu Han glance up to offer a small smile.  It’s nice like this, best like this, just them in a small pocket that Yifan wishes existed all the time.  That he could see Lu Han like this all the time, be with him like this all the time, joke with him as Lu Han is funnier but less brash about it.  Yifan has to admit the whole ‘admiring from up close’ thing probably pandered out a while ago.

 

 

- fifth break -

 

 

Jongdae is looking at him incredulously.  “Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice loud over the babble of people that all walk to the soccer field as the cold November winds tug at them and Yifan pulls his big coat closer around him.  Beside him Jongdae is wearing a huge green marshmallow and Baekhyun is hidden beneath four scarves.  Baekhyun keeps sniffling as well, looking about ready to either murder someone or keel over himself.  Jia magically appears to be perfectly fine dressed in just a skirt and cute puffy jacket.

 

“How are you even surviving?” Yifan asks her, ignoring Jongdae and his pointed look.  “It’s like Siberia right now.”

 

“Just because you three have no cold tolerance doesn’t mean we all do,” Jia says loftily as she skips easily to the stands, trying to find them seats.

 

“I think you’re just inhuman,” Amber grumbles, watching the more energetic girl bound up the seats in very real danger of accidentally flashing everyone.

 

“How many of these games have you been to, exactly?” Jongdae asks, apparently not giving Yifan the happiness of ignoring the topic.

 

“Every single one,” Baekhyun, who sounds like a horrible frog human, croaks.

 

“I think he missed one for an exam last year,” Joonmyun muses.  “Or that family thing?”

 

“No,” Baekhyun corrects, coughing disgustingly.  “Yifan is too much of a fanboy to miss one of his idol boyfriends’ games.”  He gives a loud wheezing laugh, voice scratching with illness before hacking into coughs, alternating between laughing and coughing.

 

“Is he going to die?” Joonmyun asks, looking at Baekhyun in concern as the other bodily wretches with each cough, clapping his hands to indicate that he is, indeed, still laughing a bit.

 

“Probably,” Amber says as Yifan frowns at Baekhyun before looking to see if Jia got them seats.

 

“Yifan the Fanboy!” Baekhyun sounds like a dying car engine attempting speech.  “He’s Fan Fan!”  Jongdae laughs weakly as Joonmyun evaluates him skeptically.  “Fan Fan!” Baekhyun wheezes again, still laughing and Yifan frowns a bit as Amber chuckles a little and pats him on the arm.

 

“It does fit you,” she says and Yifan sighs.  “Well, it’s potentially embarrassing but funny anyway.  I like it.”

 

“How are none of you surprised by this?” Jongdae asks, looking around at all of them and looking disappointed at his friends.  “Is no one surprised by this?”

 

“Of course not,” Amber says, smiling cheerfully at Jongdae as they walk up to where Jia is sitting and waiting.  “Yifan never watches the actual games.  He just watches Lu Han.  How is he supposed to understand a game when he never actually watches how it’s played.”

 

“I know how soccer is played,” Yifan protests, frowning at Amber as she shoves him along the seats towards Jia who is tossing her scarf back and forth in her hands.

 

“Sure you do,” Amber says, shoving Jongdae into his seat and sitting down, pulling her coat closer around her and hunching up.  “Why does this sport even continue past normal weather?  It’s freezing?”

 

“Thank god Lu Han isn’t on like, the ski team, or something,” Jongdae grumbles.  “Then Yifan would drag us to stand out in snow and freeze our balls off.”

 

“You say this like we all have balls,” Amber comments with a look.

 

“Figurative balls,” Baekhyun rasps from a few seats down.  “Amber, you and Jia can freeze your figurative balls off while the rest of us freeze our literal balls of.”

 

“Why isn’t he dead yet?” Jia asks looking down the seats at Baekhyun who coughs in her general direction and thus on Jongdae.  “Can we make Baekhyun dead?”

 

“You are disgusting,” Jongdae tells Baekhyun who smiles at him delightedly just as the team runs onto the pitch amid cheers, Yifan yelling among them as they begin warm up.  They look freezing, in their uniforms and running about, though Yifan supposes that running around and everything probably keeps them all relatively warm.  He sees Lu Han running out, smiling brilliantly, hair, growing out just a bit, flying of his face as he runs with the other teammate, Minseok, and they begin warm up.

 

“Oh, here we go,” Baekhyun croaks and Jongdae calmly shoves one his scarfs into his face, causing him to sputter and hack.

 

“Just because you can’t have a functioning relationship with your object of affections,” Jongdae chides easily as Joonmyun shrinks into himself in cold.  “Doesn’t mean you should insult others in a cruel mockery of their happiness.”

 

“But it’s fun,” Baekhyun protests, batting weakly at Jongdae and hitting him in the neck.  “Plus Taeyeon and I are perfectly functional.”

 

“You barely talk to Taeyeon,” Yifan points out, half paying attention as Joonmyun looks at Baekhyun with a raised look and says “Taeyeon?”

 

“See?” Jongdae says, finally letting go of Baekhyun.  “Even Joonmyun isn’t as stupid as you are.”

 

“They’re starting,” Jia informs all of them but Yifan who already knew, whapping down the line with her gloves and watching the pitch.  “Leave your gossip for later.”

 

About fifteen minutes in, Yifan is frowning, watching as the team gets another penalty and the whistle blows.  Jongdae leans over and asks him what went wrong and grins in triumph when Yifan can’t answer him aside from ‘that guy did a bad thing’.  Jongin gets pulled from the game.  Lu Han runs a hand up, pushing his hair out of his face, and frowning.  There are two more games in the season and if they lose this one, they’re out for the remainder.  Yifan swallows and holds the knees of his jeans.

 

Somehow, by the skin of their teeth, they win.  The final goal hitting over the initial tied score and the entire crowd in the bleachers screams, standing up and cheering, Yifan loudest among them as Baekhyun remains firmly in his seat and squints at all of them miserably.

 

Exiting the stands and looking over the heads of the crowd, Yifan can see the whole team doing one of their usual group hugs, yelling and laughing and smiling in celebration.  Jongin is being crushed between the two taller guys Yifan remembers as Sehun and Chanyeol while Lu Han is being manhandled by Minho and some other guy.  Yifan smiles anyway, just seeing him happy.

 

“Want to congratulate your boyfriend?” Jia asks, nudging him in the side as they push their way from the stands.

 

Yifan’s cheeks flush from what he knows isn’t the cold.  “He’s not my-“

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jia says with a laugh.  “But I’m sure he’d be happy to see you here.  Even if you have no idea what’s going on during the actual game.”  Most every time before, Yifan would say no, try to say they can leave before he tries to tell Lu Han congratulations, the Halloween game being an exception.  Usually he just goes feeling that Lu Han has other people he’d rather have congratulate him, spend the time with his real friends, his team and the many other people in his life.  Jia eyes him.  “You can at least go congratulate Jongin,” she says.

 

Right.  “Yeah,” Yifan says, looking over to the team they’re slowly nearing, his eyes on Lu Han and flickering to Jongin who is talking and laughing with the others.  “I could.”

 

The chance to congratulate Jongin never comes.  The team is dragging off the pitch to a soundtrack of excitement as Yifan and the others draw level with them.  Immediately Jongdae is jumping to tackle Jongin in a hug that sends him sprawling into his teammates with a loud laugh.  Yifan laughs at the side before hearing a loud yell and turning only in time to catch the mess of limbs that flings itself on him.  Yifan has never smiled as wide in his life as he tries to adjust to the weight of Lu Han whooping loudly near his armpit “you came!” accompanied by a devastating smile.

 

Yifan doesn’t admire Lu Han anymore.  He’s pretty sure it’s a lot more than that at this point.

 

 

-

 

 

Lu Han laughs in his face right before he steals Yifan’s notes and adds dialogue to the little drawings that litter the page.  Yifan frowns at him without malice and doesn’t try to take them back.  “Why do you even come to the games if you don’t even understand the sport?” Lu Han asks, laughing a bit as he adds a line of speaking next to Yifan’s interpretation of an octopus.

 

“I don’t have to understand the sport to like it,” Yifan says in his defense as Lu Han shoots him an incredulous look.  “Plus, it’s still fun to watch.”

 

They're in the library, seating in one of the back corners of the stacks where Jongin usually would join Yifan but is currently off doing some sort of group project.  Lu Han is grinning, periodically going between pestering Yifan to draw him random things and doing his work.  He has dark shadows under his eyes and the food Yifan smuggled into the library to sustain them lies picked at between them.  Yifan keeps smiling at his books and notes despite the fact that nothing about editing prose is humorous.

 

“I could teach you,” Lu Han says, startling Yifan out of his editing to look up at him.  Lu Han is watching him with a bland expression.  “About soccer.  So you know what’s going on next game.”

 

“Teach me?” Yifan repeats, the idea of himself running around on a soccer pitch with Lu Han and a soccer ball not exactly a great idea in his mind.  Especially considering his history with sports, which consists primarily of injuries, most of them not to himself.

 

“Yeah,” Lu Han says, grinning as he leans over their table, tapping Yifan’s pile of papers with the pen he had first borrowed from Yifan.  It’s as good as Lu Han’s now even as Yifan’s eyes follow it.  “Besides, I can kind of repay you then for helping me with art history.”

 

The smile he flashes Yifan makes his stomach turn.  “You don’t owe me for that,” Yifan says, sitting back a bit.  Is that why Lu Han is being so nice to him all the time?  Because Yifan helped him out of the potential pit of failing?  “You don’t owe me anything for that.  I just wanted to help.”  He swallows and looks away from Lu Han.  “You don’t have to keep studying with me anyway.  You’re passing right now with flying colors.”

 

Across from him, Lu Han snorts and Yifan looks up just as Lu Han smacks him on the back of his hand with the pen.  “I like studying with you,” Lu Han laughs, barely keeping his voice down.  “I like hanging out with you.”  He smiles, tapping the pen absently to the back of Yifan’s hand.  “You’re fun.”  Lu Han is perfect.  He’s smiling and perfect and funny and perfect and Yifan is breathless.  “Draw me something.”

 

Yifan swallows.  “What?”

 

Lu Han smiles and it’s too bright.  “A heart,” he says, voice light and joking.  “Hearts are easy.  Draw me a heart, Yifan.”

 

In his chest, Yifan’s heart beats too fast and he wonders if Lu Han has any idea.

 

 

-

 

 

“You’re dumb,” Jongin tells him immediately.  “For a Dean’s List Honors Society member, you are the dumbest person I have ever met.”

 

Those times when Yifan needs his best friend to be supportive and actually listen to his problems, Jongin sucks.  Most often, the best thing about them as best friends is that they don't get into the complicated mess of emotions or relationships, leaving those conversations for other people, sticking instead to a neutral zone.  But they can usually, when they really need it, talk about it.  They always have the option, and Jongin right now is failing miserably in his best friend duties.

 

“That’s not helpful,” Yifan tells Jongin, watching his friend resume pacing around his dorm room, running his hand through his hair.  “Just telling me I’m dumb doesn’t help me at all.”

 

“Well, that’s because you’re too wrapped up in your own mind to see anything,” Jongin snaps, still pacing and throwing him a look.  “Therefore, you’re dumb.”

 

“Remind me why we’re friends?” Yifan grumbles, not feeling helped.  When he asked Jongin to possibly talk and brought over food and drinks, he was hoping Jongin might be able to give him some sort of indication as to whether he’s hallucinating the whole Lu Han thing or not.  He’s also trying to figure out what to do regarding the matter.

 

“I listen to you and you listen to me and right now I’m telling you you’re being dumb,” Jongin says, stopping his pacing to stare hard at Yifan.  “Why would Lu Han even spend so much time with you if he didn’t like you.”

 

“But like as in what?” Yifan says, feeling tired.  “As in guys who know each other? Friends? Or-“ He swallows because that prospect is too much.  “I don’t even know if he likes…”

 

“You’re ridiculously dim sometimes,” Jongin informs him, taking an aggravated bite of pizza.  “Like, seriously, you can teach anyone anything academic but your social skills are depressing.  You two spend more time together than I do with you.”

 

“So?”

 

“I am not kidding when I keep saying you two might as well be dating,” Jongin grumpily huffs, sitting down on his bed heavily.  “You two practically are dating.”

 

“But he doesn’t-“  The look Jongin gives him shuts Yifan up immediately.  “Does he?”

 

“You haven’t-“ Jongin speaks with disbelief and half chewed pizza.  “Jesus Christ.”

 

It does seem a bit pathetic, considering that Yifan is mostly up front about his preferences with his friends and it’s not really a secret that he likes guys.  But his lack of boyfriend on campus for the past few years doesn't make it specific knowledge.  And Lu Han, as far as he knows and has learned from talking to him, is too busy for a girlfriend.  Or a boyfriend.  He’s never particularly asked.

 

“Do you know?” Yifan asks, tapping the edge of Jongin’s desk nervously.

 

“Yeah,” Jongin says with a sigh before catching Yifan’s eye.  “No,” he says flatly and Yifan frowns at him.  “You figure it out.  It’s a goddamn miracle you haven’t figured it out already, you moron.  I’m not telling you.  This is between you and Lu Han now.”

 

“So…” Hope springs eternal again in Yifan’s mind before it shuts down all over again.  Lu Han may not be as straight as he might project but it doesn’t necessarily mean he likes Yifan.  “Wait, how to do you know?”  He pauses when Jongin shifts and his eyes flicker.  “Does he know you-“

 

“We don’t talk about it on the team,” Jongin says quickly, the stern edge in his voice enough to shut down the topic.  He doesn’t elaborate but it’s enough for Yifan to wonder just what exactly that entails.

 

 

-

 

 

It’s raining.  The weather cold and bitter and Yifan sits down in art history feeling like his bones need to thaw.  He’s taking out his book when Lu Han walks in, wrapped up in a jacket and floppy wool hat and sitting down in his desk and turning to Yifan.  “Can they ban winter?”

 

Yifan can’t help but smile at this.  “I don’t think you can ban a season,” he comments as Lu Han sighs and digs through his bag, sighing and pulling out a notebook.  He looks like he forgot an umbrella that day.  “How are you holding up?”

 

Lu Han cancelled studying on Sunday and told Yifan he was dying under academics and work and couldn't make it out for a break.  “I’m not going to make it,” Lu Han says, slouching back and throwing Yifan a piteous look.  “Please tell my family I love them.  Send my regards to the team and tell Minseok he can't have my CD collection.”  Yifan raises an eyebrow.  “I’m donating it to charity.  Along with all of my internal organs.”

 

Yifan laughs a bit earning a smile.  “You will be missed,” Yifan says with a soft smile directed at Lu Han.

 

“By you?” Lu Han asks, tilting his head and Yifan’s pulse jumps.

 

“Of course,” he says, voice quiet and pushing down the nervous bubble as Lu Han’s eyes linger.  Yifan coughs and laughs.  “Everyone would miss you.  You’re kind of a hard guy not to miss.”

 

“You’re one to talk,” Lu Han says with a laugh, his eyes crinkling in amusement.  Yifan’s eyes widen as he looks at the other.  Lu Han just laughs more.  “Oh come on, you kind of hard not to notice.  You’re kind of the size of a parade float.”  He laughs loudly, mouth dropping open as Yifan scowls at him and kicks his desk lightly, before throwing him an exasperated look.  “Well, you are.”  Hard not to notice.  The thought has Yifan’s mind buzzing as it flashes over two years of watching from afar and feeling in the shadows.  His heart skips too many beats.

 

“You’re not funny,” Yifan says instead.

 

“Yes, I am,” Lu Han says with a self satisfied smirk.  “I’m hilarious.  The funniest thing alive.”

 

“You’ll be the most entertaining doctor,” Yifan says and Lu Han chokes on his laughter.  “Dr. Lu, joking with his patients prior to operation and making them laugh.  Making the children smile before vaccinations.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Lu Han groans, slouching onto the desk and burrowing his face in his arms.

 

“Paging Dr. Lu,” Yifan says, smiling as Lu Han groans and glances at him with a one eyed glare.  “The little kids won’t be able to say your name and just call you ‘Han Han’ all the time.”  Yifan smiles as Lu Han snorts gently, finally sitting up a bit and nudging Yifan in the calf with a damp sneaker.  “Han Han the Doctor Man.”

 

“Better than Fan Fan the editor man,” Lu Han jokes with a grin and Yifan laughs himself.

 

“Fan Fan?” he says, remembering how Baekhyun teased him with it amid sneezes.  He likes it much more when Lu Han says it, his gentler voice softer on the name.

 

“I think it’s far better than when I accidentally called you ‘Lifan’ to be honest,” Lu Han says.  “Fan Fan sounds much better.”  He turns to smile at Yifan who realizes with a jump Lu Han has just nick named him.  That he, in turn, has just nicknamed Lu Han.

 

Through the whole lecture, Yifan is distracted by Lu Han occasionally tapping his foot with his own, glancing over only to find him smiling quietly but not looking at him, eyes trained on the screen.  They don’t say anything until the end of the lecture when Lu Han hangs back and Yifan doesn’t hesitate before falling into step with him on the way to the mess.  “What happens after the soccer season?” Yifan asks, opening up his umbrella and holding it over both of them.  Lu Han had, indeed, forgotten one.

 

“Finals,” Lu Han says immediately and Yifan laughs despite how grim and true that statement is.  Lu Han smiles regardless, though he looks just as exhausted.  The rain brings with it a bitter bite to the skin and Lu Han steps closer, sneakers squealshing over the ground.  “I don’t know, it always feels listless after the end of the season.  Though drowning in academics usually keeps my mind off things.”  He gives a soft laugh.  “I don’t have much else to concentrate on.”

 

The rain patters on the umbrella as Yifan walks in step with Lu Han and feels the nervous bubble rising in his chest that precedes every awkward question.  “No girl to occupy all that new free time?”

 

Lu Han stops.  Actually physically stops walking to stand in the rain and stare at Yifan.  Yifan turns and stops himself, looking at Lu Han who is giving him the most incredulous look Yifan has ever seen on his face.  The nervous bubble presses so hard against the back of Yifan’s throat he feels like he can’t breathe.  “What?” he asks and Yifan has to cough.

 

“I was just-“  Yifan’s breathing is too fast.  Lu Han is standing in the rain staring at him, drops of water falling to his jacket and staining dark spots on it.

 

“Being an idiot,” Lu Han tells him, shaking his head and walking forward, passing Yifan and continuing on his way to the mess.  The problem is this doesn’t actually tell Yifan anything.  It doesn’t answer the question he had posed in the first place.  “You’re being dumb Fan Fan,” Lu Han says, turning and smiling up at him, punching him lightly, just the firm press of his fist into Yifan’s side as they walk, once more settled into a matched pace.

 

It doesn’t escape Yifan’s attention that Lu Han calls him dumb with a similar smile and look as when Jongin had.  Except where Jongin had looked stressed and exasperated, Lu Han looks amused.  Just amused and slightly patronizing.

 

“Han Han,” Yifan says back, voice quieter as Lu Han’s fist stays pressed just so into Yifan’s side.  He doesn’t miss the smile that plays on Lu Han’s lips nor the now familiar and increasingly pleasant nudge in his chest that seems to just get bigger.

 

Usually, after art history when Yifan ends up keeping Lu Han company before he has to go to his labs, Lu Han leaves first, waving and smiling and they separate.  Yifan studies and Lu Han has soccer and later they’ll text or occasionally grab a late night meal.  Today, Yifan walks Lu Han to his labs, holding the umbrella over them both as Lu Han doesn’t bother to avoid puddles and talks about the content of his class on disease and pandemics.

 

“So, in conclusion, never get syphilis,” Lu Han finishes, smiling up at Yifan as they arrive outside of the science building.  “Or something.”

 

“You give the best advice,” Yifan tells Lu Han with a small laugh.  “I’ll try my best to avoid it.”  He has to leave now, let Lu Han go to his class.  He doesn’t really want to and Lu Han isn’t turning to leave.  It’s a stale mate until Lu Han coughs.

 

“What are you doing later?”  It’s a normal question but it still makes Yifan’s stomach tie into knots.

 

“Breathing,” Yifan answers, the answer pulling a soft laugh from Lu Han.  “Why?”

 

“I need to get some stuff done tonight and could use some company,” Lu Han says.  “I was thinking we could do the whole study thing and keep each other focused.  And awake.”  Yifan wonders if, at this point, he’ll really be able to focus when lately Lu Han has taken to sprawling too close.  He’s heard enough from Jongin to know that Lu Han doesn’t let people near his bed, which makes Yifan now all the more conscious every time Lu Han pulls him down next to him every time Yifan goes over to hang out.

 

It’s not like he’s going to refuse though.  “Sure,” Yifan says, shrugging his shoulder bag a bit higher to keep it from digging in too hard.

 

“Awesome,” Lu Han says, nodding a few times.  “Practice ends around six so maybe I could meet you after that?”

 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, feeling jittery.  He’s studied at Lu Han’s room many times.  Lu Han has invaded his room with bags of chips on numerous occasions.  There’s no reason to get so nervous.

 

Lu Han smiles as he waves, calling over his shoulder “See you, Fan Fan,” and Yifan’s heart skips violently in his chest.

 

 

-

 

 

Yifan shouldn’t be here.  That’s the first thing that flashes through his mind when it’s past six fifteen and Lu Han texts him to say he’ll be a few late and to just come in and he’ll be right out.  This was a terrible idea because he’s currently just inside of the soccer team locker room and all of them are staring at him.  Jongin’s eyes are wider than normal, which means he’s actually got them open, and it’s a bit unsettling.  The rest of the team seems to either be trying to remember if they know him while the others are all just eying him in confusion.

 

Raising the hand not holding his umbrella, Yifan offers a small well-practiced and polite smile.  “Hi,” he says, waving a few times and feeling the overwhelming sense of awkward.  They all stare in various degrees of undress or getting dressed.  Jongin isn’t wearing a shirt and neither is the Sehun kid beside him who looks like he can’t see properly he’s squinting.  One of the guys near the back is in just a towel.

 

This is sufficiently awkward.

 

“Hey,” the smaller copper haired guy Yifan remembers as ‘Minseok’ says, finally breaks the weird and smiling at Yifan, raising a hand.  “What brings you here?”

 

“I’m,” Yifan begins wondering where he’s going with this sentence.  “I’m, um.”

 

“Hey,” Lu Han says, stepping quickly from what is apparently the showers and immediately gathering all attention on himself.  “Sorry, guys, this is Yifan.  You met him on Halloween.”  A vague and relatively confused murmur seems to run through the group, sound once more becoming established among the group as a whole.

 

Then suddenly the guy on the bench beside Jongin yells, “K pop guy!” loudly and smiles with his entire face, clapping in recognition as he laughs.  “You never did dance for us, you know.”  Chanyeol.  Yifan remembers Chanyeol being his name.  Jongin shifts beside him.

 

“I don’t dance,” Yifan says, feeling slightly less awkward but not entirely sure that being known as ‘k-pop guy’ is the best introduction to this group.  “But yeah, that’s me.”  Lu Han grins as he runs a towel through his hair quickly, tugging a bit on his low necked tee.  Yifan just smiles as best he can and raises a hand in a second wave.  “Nice to meet you all.”

 

“Pleasure,” the Minseok person says with a nod.  “We’re just finishing up.”  He turns back to look at the guy standing against one of the lockers who is watching everything with a relatively serious expression.  He’s showered, wearing a nice pair of jeans and a light sweater and Yifan realizes the captain is still in the middle of talking to his team.

 

“Lu Han,” Changmin says with a look at the star player before turning back to the room.  Lu Han flashes Yifan a smile before stepping forward and joining with a whispered ‘hold on a sec’ to Yifan with a tilt of his head.

 

It feels weird to stand and watch Changmin give both a threatening speech and a pep talk rolled into one and watch them all absorb his words like they’re law.  Changmin finally dismisses them all and with a sudden eruption of noise and movement, the team surges to life, slamming lockers and moving around, putting on clothing and all talking.  In a moment, Lu Han is dragged into a swift conversation with Minseok and the goalie Minho.

 

Jongin keeps glancing at him from across the locker room, eyes flickering in question that Yifan shrugs at him in reply.  Beside him, Chanyeol is laughing at something and standing close, Sehun seeming vaguely entertained by him just off to the side.  Somehow, while Sehun’s face previously looked about as kind and pleasant as a beehive might be, seeing him laugh at whatever Chanyeol is saying is far less foreboding.

 

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Lu Han is saying, stepping back up to Yifan and looking at Minho.  “Meanwhile, get that assignment done.  If you fail, you’re out and next weekend is the final game.  I’ll see you guys later.”  He grins and pushes to Yifan’s side, nudging him from the room quickly.

 

“What are you guys up to anyway?” Minseok asks, an eyebrow raised as he looks between Yifan and Lu Han curiously.

 

“Studying,” Lu Han says with a shrug.  “And hanging out.  You know.”  Minseok gives him a small look that maybe means something but Yifan doesn’t know Minseok, and therefore doesn’t know the meaning of the look.  Lu Han simply grins and makes a very indiscriminate hand gesture at him.

 

“Good luck on your shit,” Minho says, clapping Lu Han on the shoulder and giving a swift nod in Yifan’s direction.  “Ciao.”

 

“You’re not Italian,” Lu Han shoots at Minho with a snort before delivering a swift punch to his shoulder.  He turns to flash a smile up at Yifan and then steps forward, leading from the locker room.  It’s quiet for the first minute of walking, save for the sound of rain before Lu Han says, “I don’t.”

 

“What?” Yifan asks, looking down slightly confused.

 

“I don’t have one,” Lu Han says, not really looking up as he walks, backpack slung over one side as he keeps step with Yifan.  “I haven’t had a girlfriend in a really, really long time.”

 

A tennis ball lodges into Yifan’s throat.  “Oh.”  Three steps of silence.  “Well, you’ve been so busy-“

 

“I don’t want one,” Lu Han says, looking up and out over campus with an eased expression.  Yifan watches him, watches the way his hair is still damp from the shower and the roots are growing in dark against the stark blond.  Looks at how his hair makes a dramatic and stark contrast to the dark of his eyebrows and in many ways throws his features into sharp focus.  “Pizza or Chinese?”

 

This is a question he can answer.  “Chinese,” Yifan answers with a smile.  “Even if it doesn’t taste anything like real Chinese food.”

 

“Food is food,” Lu Han says with a shrug, nudging into Yifan’s side easily.  He’s smiling.

 

It takes the food thirty minutes to arrive.  It takes Lu Han twenty minutes to get through half of it, smiling as he sees that Yifan ordered two of one dish.  Yifan just smiles, stabbing the orange chicken in his take away container and mumbling that it was Lu Han’s favorite so it just made sense.  “Sap,” Lu Han says, grinning as he shoves a portion at Yifan and demands “Eat!”

 

They're lying on the bed, Yifan propped up against the wall and Lu Han slouched beside him writing out notes in the margins of his book.  Food containers are scattered over the desk and Lu Han’s hair is lightly brushing Yifan’s arm.  “Did Jongin ever tell you about Halloween?”

 

Looking down, Lu Han is still writing notes, frowning slightly as he scribbles numbers that probably mean something in the margins of his notes.  He doesn’t look up at Yifan.  “No.  Why?”

 

Lu Han pauses.  “Nothing?” he asks, looking a little surprised.

 

“Well, from what I know and heard and saw, you got him too drunk to remember anything,” Yifan points out, looking down at Lu Han’s slouched form beside him.  “I got a few garbled text messages but I left too early for…”  He trails off, looking away for a moment before looking back at Lu Han.  “Why?”

 

“Just curious,” Lu Han says, shrugging and looking down at his book and settling just a bit more into Yifan’s side.  He stays quiet for a while, just continuing to work quietly as Yifan goes between reading his book, taking notes, and glancing down at him.  Despite being so well defined and toned from soccer, there are aspects of Lu Han that are soft.  The gentle bite into his lower lip, the tilt of his head, the hesitant smile he sometimes wears when between laughing and smiling.  “You never did draw me that heart, you know.”

 

Blinking, Yifan looks down at Lu Han to see he’s stopped taking notes, pen tapping gently against his book.  “And?”

 

“Well, why not?” Lu Han asks, looking up with a playful challenge flickering on his face.  “It’s so simple.  Just a heart, Fan Fan.”

 

“Why?” Yifan asks.  Lu Han is so warm beside him.  Solid and warm and right there practically nestled into his side.

 

“Because I want you to,” Lu Han says.  It’s an obnoxiously simple answer.  One that Yifan answers by finally reaching over and grabbing Lu Han’s hand, completely forgoing the concept of paper and leaning down, frowning in concentration.  He uses his other hand to drag the tip of his pen against the smooth skin of Lu Han’s hand, slowly and carefully drawing the figure of a heart to the back of Lu Han’s hand.  Lu Han’s wrist is thin between his fingers as he holds his hand steady, his breathing ghosting faintly over the side of Yifan’s face from where he’s leaned over Lu Han.  The pale skin of his smaller hand is a dramatic contrast to the dark ink now resting against it.

 

Finished and pulling back, Yifan feels the delayed rush of nerves, adrenalin speeding up his heart and he tries not to breathe too fast.  Lu Han is looking at the back of his hand, at the small heart drawn there in black pen, standing stark against the skin in asymmetrical blatancy.  Yifan swallows nervously, waiting.

 

Lu Han hums gently, turning his hand and examining it, watching the way the drawing stretches against his skin.  “Well, it is a heart,” Lu Han says, looking up with a faint smile but eyes that tease gently.  “You definitely did draw me a heart.  Finally.”

 

He’s so close.  Right there, Yifan not pulled away fully and Lu Han is right there, laid against his side, smiling and perfect and warm.  Lu Han is too close but he’s not pulling away, something that Yifan was entirely positive he would do.  But he doesn’t.  He doesn’t look at the drawing he’s just done, instead watching Lu Han as he asks, “Happy?”

 

Dark eyes under dark brows contrasting with blond dyed hair that is growing out flicker between his own as Lu Han looks back up, gaze flashing between Yifan’s eyes and then down, just for a moment, before back up.  He smiles and it’s too big, his eyes crinkling to slits as he says “yes.”  He leans up and Yifan’s breath stops just as his eyes slip closed, the soft pressure against his lips enough to tell him this isn’t a dream even if he feels weightless.

 

Yifan had thought of a few scenarios in which he and Lu Han might, possibly, have an intimate moment and maybe something like this would happen where they kiss.  He just never really thought it would actually happen, and is almost afraid to open his eyes when he feels Lu Han pull away, only doing so a moment later when finger tips lightly brush against his own.  Lu Han is smiling but looks less cocky and teasing for once and Yifan still think’s he’s perfect.  “I like you,” he says bluntly and immediately feels his face flare at the admission.

 

“I know,” Lu Han says with a grin.  He doesn’t move away, just staying there and looking up at Yifan like he’s supposed to be there, like it’s okay for him to be there.  Like he wants to be there, with Yifan, and not leaving or pulling away and there.  “It’s kind of hard not to notice.  Just like you’re kind of hard not to notice sometimes.”

 

“I didn’t know if you…” Yifan trails off, feeling mostly if not entirely foolish now.

 

Lu Han just laughs, the lines in his face creasing naturally.  “Trust me,” he says, fingers skipping to tap against Yifan’s hands.  “I like guys in a purely non-platonic way.”

 

“All guys?” Yifan asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

 

“Do you have the hots for all the men you meet?” Lu Han asks him with raised eyebrows.

 

Yifan has to admit Lu Han has a point.  He also is pretty sure the conversation is closed when Lu Han leans up again and his fingers slip between Yifan’s like they never want to leave.

 

 

-

 

 

Baekhyun isn’t quite as sick the next week as he sits at the study table quietly and Joonmyun stares at him as if seeing an exotic bird in real life for the first time.  Granted, Baekhyun does have a shit-eating grin on his face, a new black eye, and what is definitely a hickey on his neck, so it makes sense.  Though they’re the only two at the table not staring at Yifan, who is a bit uncomfortable under the looks of everyone, including the new unfamiliar additions.

 

“Can I be the first one to just sat ‘finally’?” Amber asks, looking around the table at everyone with a small shrug before looking back at Yifan.

 

“Beat you,” Jongin says, glancing up with a smile before elbowing Sehun hard in the side beside him when the other tugs at his hoodie with a devious smirk on his face.

 

Jongdae just laughs.  “You have best friend status, you don’t count.”

 

“Of course he counts,” Lu Han says with a grin, looking over the table at the group that he’s now been almost seamlessly included in.  Yifan smiles as he marks in red along the edits of his final essay due in a weeks, nudging back at the foot that taps against his under the table.  “Jongin always counts.”

 

“Why wouldn’t he?” Chanyeol, whose surprisingly low and loud voice is strange when hushed, says quietly looking around the table in confusion.  “Are you all part of some weird exclusive nerd club or something?”

 

“Nerds don’t have a club,” Baekhyun replies with a small sneer.  “Excuse yourself from this table.  Now.  Walk away.”  Chanyeol snaps his mouth shut, hunched down slightly in his chair as Baekhyun straightens, looking horribly pleased with himself.  Joonmyun’s highlighter is bleeding into his page a brilliant pink blob as he continues to stare with a strange frown at Baekhyun’s neck.  Baekhyun smirks at him.  “What, like you’ve ever seen a hickey before?”

 

“But why?” Joonmyun asks as Lu Han laughs quietly, glancing a bit at the group again before reaching over and adding a pair of ears to Yifan’s doodle of a hamburger.  “Why is it there?  It’s like it’s staring at me.  Menacingly.”

 

Yifan watches as Lu Han adds eyes to the hamburger as well before writing out ‘warrior of hunger’ underneath it with a few bold underlines.  “Hickey’s don’t stare,” Victoria, or at least that’s what she introduced herself as, says with a scoff as she looks up from her own notes.

 

“This one does,” Joonmyun says, leaning back slightly as if Baekhyun’s neck mark may leap out and attack him.  “How did you even get that thing?”

 

“He was bit by a really big bug,” Yifan says immediately and Lu Han snorts into laughter beside him loudly.  Baekhyun turns and starts laughing himself, face collapsing as his hands come to clap in front of him.  “Huge,” Yifan adds as Lu Han coughs beside him and Baekhyun hits the table.  Joonmyun looks horribly mortified as the rest of the group looks on like this is entirely normal.  Well, Sehun and Victoria seem to be judging it though Yifan credits that it may just be Sehun’s face.

 

Last week Yifan had studied with Lu Han after practice.  Last week Lu Han had kissed him after Yifan had draw a heart on him.  Last week, Yifan had been a little shell shocked at the whole thing, kissing back but it wasn’t until after a long conversation later he was convinced it was real.  Last week, Lu Han laughed at him after hearing about how Yifan thought Lu Han was beyond his reach, out of his league.  Last week Lu Han had teased him for hours about being ‘senpai’ and laughed himself into a coughing fit.  Last night, Yifan kept Lu Han up to finish his assignments by poking him with his pen and allowing only short distractions, their hands laced together easily on the bed between them.

 

This week, Lu Han laughs too loudly, texts just as much as he had before and Yifan does too.  This week, Lu Han is exhausted and stretched out from exam prep but smiles with that same small gentle happy smile at Yifan before telling him he’s too tall.  This week, Lu Han has taken to asking Yifan to draw everything under the moon and then some, quietly poking him in the side and saying “senpai commands it.”  This week, Yifan joins Lu Han in taking a nap.  This week, Jongin rolled his eyes before he smiled and told Yifan he told him so.

 

Yifan told Jongin he never did anything of the sort and Jongin just smiled wider before looking back to his work.

 

It’s cold, the ground frosted and the season is over.  The last game was on Saturday. They won, the cold air biting into skin and the gray November skies threating snow soon in the future.  It was cold and Jongdae told Yifan he looked like a giant sock all bundled up in his parka.  It was cold but Yifan still smiled, watching the whole team play and finally understanding the game a little.  They won and the team, in true fashion, yelled and cheered and whooped as the rest of the campus flooded the field.  They won, and Lu Han looked brilliant, not over the top excited but just overwhelmingly happy as Yifan watched him on the field.

 

Lu Han still looked overwhelmingly happy as he half jumped on Yifan later, seeing him on the way to the locker room.  The team looked for a little while, but said nothing for the most part.  Jongin just smiled.

 

Finals are three weeks away, with a short break in between and Yifan is a good way finished with most of his essays.  Lu Han, seated beside him and now a new permanent addition to the usual group of friends Yifan has, is frowning at his art history.

 

“Need help?” Yifan asks, watching as Lu Han chews on the end of his pen.  Yifan’s pen, once upon a time.  Lu Han refuses to give it back.

 

“Need help, senpai?” Lu Han says, turning to look at him with cocked eyebrows.

 

“Han Han,” Yifan says quietly, nudging Lu Han in playful annoyance.

 

“Fan Fan,” Lu Han retorts, grinning as he nudges Yifan’s foot under the table.  “Call me senpai.”

 

“Dr. Lu,” Yifan quietly says with a pointed raise of his eyebrows.

 

This earns him a wrinkled nose in dislike.  “Not that,” Lu Han protests.  His foot knocks against Yifan’s again and turns back to writing out notes, in the margins scrawling out call me yours before underlining a passage on the symptoms of rabies.

 

A soft laugh ghosts past Yifan’s lips as he smiles, leaning down and slipping his hand to the small of Lu Han’s back, pressing gently and there, just like the other is now in his life.  There, not far away and untouchable, but there and staying.  “That I can do,” he says and Lu Han’s mouth twitches as he underlines more about rabies.

 

“Gross,” Jongdae says idly from across the table.

 

“No one cares about your opinion,” Jia says, dropping her bag onto the table and announcing her arrival.

 

“I’ve been telling him that for ages, but he never listens,” Baekhyun says with a dramatic and very self-righteous shrug.

 

“No one listens to you,” Jongdae points out.

 

“This is the kind of friend group where you all just are dicks to each other isn’t it,” Sehun, who is looking around with a sort of frowning perplexed possible scowl says, mouth open slightly as his arms fold over his chest.

 

“Pretty much,” Amber says with a nod and flashing a friendly smile.  “Welcome.”  She also throws him a sarcastically enthusiastic thumbs-up.

 

“Thanks,” Sehun says with a crinkly smile that alters his face significantly.  Yifan stares a little.

 

“Sehun, you should smile more,” Lu Han says with a grin.  “It does your face wonders.”

 

“Whatever, you look like a frog,” Sehun says, his smile fading slightly.

 

“A very handsome frog,” Lu Han corrects him, throwing his pen at the younger boy and grinning happily when Sehun flinches and shirks away with a small snuffled yelp.

 

“I like them,” Baekhyun says with a few slow appreciative nods.  “They can stay.”

 

“I don’t need your permission,” Lu Han says, hand slipping into Yifan’s under the table and Jongdae eyes him in vague approval as Chanyeol perks up slightly across the table.  Yifan’s fingers curl automatically around Lu Han’s gently, unseen but the smile that spreads over his face isn’t.

 

“I repeat,” Baekhyun says, his eyes on Yifan and Lu Han.  “Gross.”

 

“Shut up, Baekhyun,” Yifan says easily and smiles when Baekhyun’s mouth drops, Jongdae’s smiles, Jongin’s twitches, and Lu Han laughs softly beside him, his fingers holding firm in his own as his heart beats happily.  He smiles, and none of it is appropriate or hesitant.  He’s too happy and has no reason to hide it.

 

-fin-

 

 

A/N:Props if you can guess the side pairings~ ^^

Comments

[bluedreaming]

This is going to be a short one because deadlines call ;;; (can't you hear them wailing from light years away?) but I went into this story either expecting a light feel good comedy or, conversely (but not likely) a complete tragic angst.

What I got entirely exceeded my expectations. This was a story with so much under the surface, bullying disguised as "friends", isolation, not being able to speak up for/defend oneself, homophobia, and I felt like there was even more under the surface that I couldn't quite make out entirely but only caught glimpses of.

And I've been thinking about it since we talked but I feel like...even under that massive asshole, Baekhyun has a story too? Of course it doesn't forgive his massive pile of shit, but I wonder what made him like that. I got flavors of homophobia and stuff around that.

But mostly what got to me and made me cry (yes I'll admit it) was the way Yifan was so alone. He had no one, only people pretending to be his friends. And Jongin was the closest but he still...he didn't feel like he was 100% there for Yifan. Perhaps I'm doing him a disservice and there's more to the story but I wasn't entirely impressed with him. And Sehun's comment at the end This is the kind of friend group where you all just are dicks to each other isn’t it I know he (I think????) meant it as a slightly sarcastic joke, but it was so true. And they were "dicks to each other" in the way that really left scars.

And when Baekhyun made that snarky comment I like them and then They can stay. I was so happy to finally see Yifan stand up for himself.

But seriously, the way they even told him not to smile and be happy because it looked gross? That was awful. I was half-hoping Yifan could somehow dump them entirely, though I know things don't really work that way.

Lu Han was another fascinating character, in the way he was a facade over his real self, and it was an interesting (and sad) contraposition (is that the word I want?) of Lu Han who was bigger than himself but really false, acting up an image for the sake of others, and Yifan who was smaller than himself, belittled, but still "him".

Thank you for writing this. I loved it a lot, even though it was a difficult read at times.