Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soonyoung is looking at Joshua like he just said he ran over a cat and needed help burying the body. His eyebrows are furrowed, squinting up at him from where he’s sitting on the floor with his laptop on the coffee table. 

It’s offensive, because Joshua speaks very clearly, thank you very much, and he isn't a difficult-to-understand sentence in an academic research paper. 

And if there’s anyone out of the both of them who does questionable things, it’s not Joshua. 

Sure, Soonyoung likes to joke he’s “scammable” because he once got ripped off at a market while buying leek kimchi two months ago, but it’s Soonyoung who got his head stuck in between the rails of their dorm balcony last week. It’s also Soonyoung who calls at five in the morning to be let in after a night out because he keeps forgetting his keys—only for Joshua to remind him they’re always in his left back pocket. And it’s Soonyoung who keeps whole bags of pennies fresh from the bank in his backpack and uses them to pay for his lunch at the college cafeteria.

So really, Joshua doesn’t think it’s very fair for Soonyoung to look at him like he just said he wants to go to Mars at this very instant, when all he said was that Jeonghan was coming over for dinner later.

And by later, he means in about fifteen minutes tops. Sue him. Jeonghan just texted him, too, with far too many emojis and exclamation points when he asked for a simple address because he was bringing food. All the people Joshua knows are so dramatic, god—

Soonyoung pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other on his head like he has a migraine coming. Again, dramatic. “Take it from the top. Who’s Jeonghan again?”

“My boyfriend,” is how Joshua answers, perfectly as he and Jeonghan practiced for the two and a half hours they sat beside each other at the back of Dr. Kang’s lecture hall. Soonyoung’s eyebrows disappear into his bangs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“No, I will look at you like this.” Soonyoung counters, waving a hand. “Since when? Where did you meet him? You left this room single as a pringle—”

“Don’t say ‘single as a pringle,’ they come in stacks—"

“—and now you have a boyfriend.” A pause. “Please don’t tell me we have to cook for him.”

“Of course not,” Now Joshua is the one giving Soonyoung a weird look. “He’ll bring takeout. It’s part of the deal.”

Soonyoung matches it: “A deal.”

Joshua sighs, “It’s a scam. We’re not dating for real. Happy?”

“Again.” Soonyoung waves, “When? Where? How? And most importantly, why?”

Right on cue, a knock comes at their door. Soonyoung lobs the pillow he’s holding at Joshua’s face; Joshua dodges it easily. 

“Your guest, your responsibility.”

Joshua huffs, “I hope Jeonghan got boiled chicken so you can’t eat it.”

Soonyoung aims a kick at him instead. “Don't disrespect my dead pet. If this all goes to shit, I’m keeping his Tupperware.”

It started like this.

For the better part of a semester, Joshua had sat beside Jeonghan in the back row of Dr. Kang’s lecture for three reasons. 

First, because Joshua couldn’t care less about science in the modern world, much less about it at 9 in-the-fucking A.M.

Second, he arrived late on the first day of class and that happened to be one of the few empty seats left. It was the back or the very front, and again, Joshua couldn’t care less about this lecture.

Third, because Jeonghan just happened to be there. Joshua doesn’t just seek out men. He’s not a slut like Soonyoung was back in freshman year.

In fact, Joshua didn’t even sit beside Jeonghan at first. There was a whole seat in between them. 

It was just that Jeonghan asked him if he could borrow his notes during the second day of the lecture, that things just…happened. Jeonghan took the seat beside him, and it was all history. It didn’t help that Jeonghan had been muttering snarky jokes about the lecture the entire time, and Joshua had to bite his fist one too many times so he wouldn’t get called on for laughing. Jeonghan was funny, and Joshua only bored out of his mind.

It was convenient. Sitting beside Jeonghan from that day onwards was nice.

It became…a partnership of sorts. Jeonghan was oddly uninterested in science in the modern world for someone claiming to have taken a science major in high school, and for a guy taking up a field of Engineering or something. They’d help each other with notes after class and share mindless chatter to keep each other from falling asleep. If one of them got called on for recitation, the other would mutter hastily Googled answers out of the corner of his mouth.

And after class ended, if they didn’t have other lunch plans, they’d eat with each other. Sharing 1+1 convenience store deals and clinking beers over ramen somewhere off campus. Exchanging gossip over which classmate is useless in group projects and which professors give the best grades for the least amount of work.

It was fun. Jeonghan’s nice. He makes the early classes bearable and the walk to class worth it.

So when Jeonghan opened up about a certain predicament with his boyfriend—no, ex-boyfriend—and needed Joshua’s help for the next month or so, who was Joshua to refuse to help? It’s not like he had anything else to do outside of writing essays and making sure Soonyoung wasn’t freezing in the great outdoors at the wee hours of the morning.

Besides, Jeonghan’s handsome.

And in the words of a Kwon Soonyoung, “you need to live a little while your knees aren’t creaking, Josh.”

Jeonghan brings fried chicken, much to Joshua’s petty dismay. 

He also brings beer, much to Joshua’s delight, because cheap beer is the only thing that gets him through many nights as exam season approaches; Soonyoung is beginning to call him a baby alcoholic. Joshua throws the pillow back at him, and Jeonghan cackles in the background, even when it’s a little shier than Joshua is used to from their lunches.

“He’s a real person,” Soonyoung scrambles to his feet, eyes comically wide. His shin slams against the edge of the table in his haste. “Ow, ow, ow—”

Again, Jeonghan laughs and steps in when Joshua ushers him inside, taking the bags of food and drinks from his hands.

“I told you he was coming, Soonyoung.”

“Yeah, but in my head, he was more of a ‘concept,’ and not an actual person.” Soonyoung straightens from where he was rubbing his shin. A wince still tugs at his lips, even when he meets Jeonghan’s eyes. Gives Jeonghan a once-over. “Hi, I’m this guy’s roommate. You can call me Tiger. I like your shirt.”

Jeonghan’s wearing black training shorts and a yellow shirt has a bright orange cartoon tiger on the front. His eyes turn into crescent moons when he smiles. 

“Hi, Tiger. I’m Jeonghan. It’s a good thing I brought fried chicken. Isn’t that your prey?”

“Jeonghan, you don’t have to feed into his delusion–”

“Come on, Mr. Amazing Boyfriend,” Soonyoung’s voice suddenly overpowers Joshua, and he’s rushing to grab Jeonghan by the arm. “I think you and I have a lot to talk about.”

They sit on the floor, and it’s Joshua setting up their food and drinks with plates and all that jazz. Meanwhile, Soonyoung loops his arm through Jeonghan’s and chats his ear off about god knows what. By the time Joshua settles down across both of them, they’re already honest-to-god giggling amongst each other, and Joshua stares at them for a moment before Jeonghan notices him.

It’s sweet, the way Jeonghan’s smile widens even more when their eyes meet.

And the way he puts a piece of chicken on Joshua’s plate first. Just like how a boyfriend would.

“You’re really living up to the boyfriend title,” comes Soonyoung’s annoying, obvious observation. He even whistles. “Speaking of, you didn’t answer my why, Josh.”

In lieu of answering, Joshua chooses to pop open a can of beer. Jeonghan puts a piece of chicken on Soonyoung’s plate, too.

Soonyoung practically squeals, slipping his hand in Jeonghan’s. Jeonghan only laughs. Really, he’s too kind.

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why you two are fake boyfriends or whatever.” Soonyoung lets go to pick up his chicken and go to town. He speaks even when chewing. To make things worse, he chews with his mouth open. “Josh has never had a boyfriend for as long as you’ve known him.”

“You’re being dramatic, I dated around!” Joshua coughs, “Swallow before you talk, don’t you have manners?”

Soonyoung ignores him. Addresses sweet, kind Jeonghan. “So, why?”

It’s also Jeonghan who answers before he even touches his food, simply. “My ex broke up with me about a month ago. It was all good, not really any hard feelings. He’s a good guy.” Jeonghan’s eyes drop to his plate for half a beat before he adds, “But he already moved in with another guy last weekend.”

“So it’s a revenge plot, is that it?” 

A pause. “Sort of, yeah.”

Soonyoung also pauses. He finally swallows his mouthful. “How’d you know?”

Jeonghan bites into his chicken, taking his time to chew and swallow. There’s a pink tinge to his ears when he admits, “I stalked his Instagram stories using a different account.”

Soonyoung whistles again as Jeonghan digs into his food, “Damn, I hope it all works out well for you, then. Show me a picture?”

Mid-chew, Jeonghan fishes his phone out of his pocket.

Jeonghan is passing his phone to Soonyoung, whose eyes widen comically. “Fuck, he’s hot.”

Joshua had never met Jeonghan’s boyfriend, per se, but he’d seen a tall and tan guy with a toothy smile occasionally waiting for Jeonghan outside of Dr. Kang’s lecture hall. Jeonghan would wave back at Joshua as they walked off, the taller guy already chattering away, and that was all Joshua would see of him.

Jeonghan only makes a sound that Joshua can describe as pained—like, stepped on Legos pained. 

They get through dinner, sharing a box of chicken. They turn on an animated film on Netflix on Soonyoung’s open laptop over beers and chatter, and they reach a total of thirty minutes before Soonyoung is jumping up to cook them a pot of instant noodles.

Within two minutes, the savory scent of spicy soup and calories wafts in from the kitchen, while Jeonghan and Joshua actually watch the film. It isn’t half bad, but at this point, Joshua has no idea where the plot is going, so he just drinks his beer and watches a too-engrossed Jeonghan out of the corner of his eye.

Jeonghan fits into their tiny dorm room like he’s lived there all his life. Joshua has never invited him over before, but it has him wondering if Jeonghan also lives in one of the college dorms for him to know the layout so well. He even knows where the bathroom is, and he doesn’t even ask.

He doesn’t ask how Jeonghan knows, but he files it away anyway. Some things are better saved for when you aren’t two cans of beer in.

Still, Joshua can’t help but make an offhand comment about it when Soonyoung returns to their cramped coffee table with a steaming pot of noodles. Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t say anything else.

There are no grand declarations of love. No dramatic scene where Jeonghan crowds him against the wall or door when his ex passes by, the way they do in the movies. Heck, they don’t even pass by Jeonghan’s ex anywhere in the hallway.

Which is all fine by him. Joshua thinks it’s less tiring this way.

Without Jeonghan’s ex physically anywhere around them, all Jeonghan asks of him is that Joshua lets him sit closer than usual. Or casually plant a hand on his knee in public. Or even hold his hand—platonically, of course. It’s all just to “spark rumors” in case anybody they mutually know does pass by, or whatever Jeonghan calls it.

“It’s better to let rumors spread organically,” Jeonghan had insisted when they first sat down over lunch to lay down “ground rules” of what they could and could not do.

Like…kissing.

Joshua isn’t a prude. He’s dated both guys and girls. He’s kissed them, held their hands, held doors open for them on dates and pulled out their chairs for them. But he isn’t the PDA type of guy, which Jeonghan apparently is.

Still, they wrote it down on a list and everything, all their do’s and don’ts. They’d found a middle ground on the kissing part and Joshua allowed it as long as Jeonghan warned him first, and Jeonghan would put his hand in Joshua’s back pocket before he did anything, in some kind of romcom movie style warning.

The first time the list truly comes to good use, though, is three weeks in, exams are coming up, and Jeonghan is asking Joshua to go to a party with him. They’re sitting outside a nearby convenience store, waiting for their instant noodles to cook, and the hot breeze has Joshua thinking that summer is well on its way.

“It’s a pre-semester-end party,” Jeonghan is even pouting, Joshua thinks he’s stopped breathing for a second there. “I can’t not be there, so you have to come with me."

Joshua frowns, “Who the fuck throws parties before exams?”

Hesitation. Then, “My ex’s best friends.”

“Dude.”

Jeonghan seems to shrink into himself under the weight of Joshua’s gaze. Eventually, he sighs, “I know, I know—but they’re still really nice guys to invite me, and I’m sure Mingyu will show up.”

The name piques Joshua’s interest. It’s probably the first time Jeonghan has ever mentioned his ex’s name to him.

Mingyu.

A common name.

Either way, Joshua summarizes, “So you want to parade me around like a trophy.”

The sunlight is warm on Joshua’s skin. The light seems to sparkle off of the glasses perched on top of Jeonghan’s head, making him look like an otherworldly being, if that makes sense.

Still, it’s a little too hot, and Joshua tugs at his collar to give himself some air. 

Why does it feel too hot?

It’s just a party. And Jeonghan. He’s just going to a party hosted by Jeonghan’s ex’s best friends with Jeonghan. In an enclosed space with drinks and snacks and probably a hundred other people.

There will be drinks. He can drink and hide. He can swallow down the idea of being seen, as long as Jeonghan doesn’t do anything crazy like kiss him.

Eventually, Joshua relents. “Fine. For you. When is it?”

Jeonghan fucking cheers. Joshua wants to slap him.

Out of the two of them, it’s Soonyoung who’s the party guy. Joshua just sort of wills himself to fade into the wallpaper with his drink in hand and exchanges awkward small talk with whoever walks up to him.

With that being said, he can’t remember the last time he went to a party, much less before exams.

The idea of it is so ridiculous that even Soonyoung gapes when Joshua comes out of his room.

“You’re going to a party,” Soonyoung repeats, a little dumbly where he’s hunched over his laptop. Has been for the past three hours. “Never thought I’d see this day again.”

“Shut up,” is all Joshua can say, because he sort of agrees. “Jeonghan invited me.”

“Ah, yes, the boyfriend.” Soonyoung laughs, rubbing at his eyes. He turns away from his screen to fully take in Joshua’s outfit. “You look like you’re going to brunch, though.”

Joshua is wearing a light blue button down with the buttons open until his chest and black slacks. It’s nothing fancy, but he’d been wondering if he should wear black instead in case someone spills anything on his clothes. Blue eventually won because it’s still a party, and he doesn’t want to look like he’s going to a funeral.

Apparently, he was doomed to look like he was heading out for brunch instead.

Joshua frowns, “This is what I usually wear.”

“Which reminds me that you’re not a party guy,” Soonyoung is pushing himself to his feet. “You need a better outfit.”

“I’m going to be late,” Joshua protests when Soonyoung grabs his wrist and pulls Joshua into his own, messy room.

This is where he feels the nerves.

Even more so when Soonyoung shoots him finger guns and an exaggerated wink and corrects him: “You’ll be fashionably late. There’s a difference.

When Soonyoung throws open his closet, Joshua is reminded why he and Soonyoung fought for a dorm with separate bedrooms when the school year started. No amount of love for his roommate could beat his horror at the way clothes just spill out of Soonyoung’s drawers. Jackets. Shirts. Jeans. Underwear, even.

Somehow, he navigates through it all, retrieving a cropped leather jacket from the chaos and tossing it in Joshua’s direction. Then, a white sleeveless top. 

Joshua lunges to catch them before they touch the pile of clothes already on the floor. “It’s fucking summer, man.”

“At least the weather isn’t the only thing that’s hot,” Soonyoung looks up at him expectantly. “What are you waiting for? Go change.”

And so Joshua strips right then and there. Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle like the pervert he is before he goes to his drawers, back turned to Joshua so he can change in peace, until he returns to top it all off with a bundle of necklaces.

It’s only after Soonyoung smoothens his collar, runs his waxed hands through Joshua’s hair, slips rings onto Joshua's fingers, and artfully arranges the chains around Joshua's neck that he finally smiles. Takes a dramatic step back to survey his work. 

“Okay, you’re ready to party, hot stuff.”

Joshua can’t help his retort, “I was ready to party even before.”

Then Soonyoung is shoving him in the direction of his full-length mirror, and anything else fades out in the back of Joshua’s throat. Agreement, too, is something else Joshua can’t help but express, when Soonyoung made him look like a rockstar with the tousled hair and black leather jacket, even when his neck feels heavy with all the jewelry. 

So this is why Soonyoung always returns to their dorm at five in the morning. He probably has men all over him.

When Joshua says aloud just as much, Soonyoung only laughs. That means it’s true.

Soonyoung sends him out the door with a painful smack to the ass and a “go get him, lion!”

Soonyoung’s jacket sticks to Joshua’s skin, slick with sweat, while he walks the three blocks off campus to the address Jeonghan texted him.

If this was a normal night, he’d be stressing out over his essays beside Soonyoung, curled up on the floor of their dorm room in pajamas with the air conditioning on full blast. But alas, here he is, sweating into his jacket, and trying not to die of heatstroke.

Really, the end of May shouldn’t be this humid.

He can see the strobe lights from the corner, bright whites and blues and pinks. He can hear the music from afar, a heavy bass that rumbles the ground Joshua walks on as he approaches. The closer he gets, the more he sees the people littering the area outside of the door.

It has him taking a deep breath before he double-checks the address again, past Jeonghan’s update on his location, and walks straight into the bar.

At places like this, nobody cares about anybody, so Joshua easily slips in the open door. The bouncer doesn’t even stop him—they’ve probably been warned about the influx of college students set to come in and party. Or maybe Jeonghan’s ex’s best friends could be rich and have actually rented out the entire place. 

The bar isn’t anywhere Joshua has gone before, but it doesn’t look very different from the others. Low lights, packed walkways, sticky floors. The scent of too many drunk, sweaty people in one room. Heavy bass thudding in Joshua’s skull.

But Jeonghan texted that he’s already inside, over at the bar counter, so Joshua sucks it up, squeezes past everyone, and tries to keep himself focused so the world doesn’t start spinning from lack of oxygen.

Jeonghan isn’t difficult to spot—he’s one of the few actually sitting at the counter, waiting. Joshua’s feet carry him too fast. The world blurs into colors, then he’s placing a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder. 

“Hey.”

Jeonghan jumps in his seat, setting his drink down before twisting around, “Hey, I was waiting for you.”

Something in Joshua’s chest tightens at that. He clambers onto the stool beside Jeonghan’s, and Jeonghan flags the bartender down for him while simultaneously sliding the drink menu over to him. Then, his hand finds its place on Joshua’s thigh. Casual. Just like what they discussed.

Still, Joshua has to swallow down his heart from where it leaped up to his throat. This is fake, after all. Jeonghan is just friendly, and they’re just at a party.

He orders himself a Cass, because he doesn’t want the headache that comes with hard liquor, and catches Jeonghan watching him.

Under the low light, Jeonghan somehow manages to glow. His hair is swept away from his face, and he’s wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and fitted jeans that hug his thighs. Is that glitter on his cheekbones? It’s a stark difference from the colorful oversized tees and sweaters he wears to class that Joshua immediately knows he’s here with a purpose.

Chill, but hot. Casual, but calculated and prepared to meet an ex. 

Jeonghan is a good-looking guy to begin with. It’s working.

Under the low light, Jeonghan’s eyes on him are blazing, following the way he reaches to open his bottle when it arrives. Joshua has to take a long swig so that he can pass off the heat in his face as alcohol-induced.

What the fuck is going on with him?

It’s Jeonghan who reaches over to wipe the droplets from the corner of his mouth when Joshua sets his bottle back on the counter. Joshua almost flinches backwards in surprise, because Jeonghan’s fingers are cool against his face, and they suddenly feel too…intimate.

But Jeonghan’s grin is still playful as ever, and he has to raise his voice because someone put on EDM. “So, you look good. Cool jacket.”

“Thanks,” Joshua’s face still burns. He hopes the darkness hides it. He props an elbow up on the counter in hopes of looking casual, too. “It’s Soonyoung’s.”

They exchange some small talk—as much as they possibly can over the blaring music, anyway. Something about Jeonghan not seeing anyone he’s friends with just yet. 

Something about the girls who came to Jeonghan, smelling of beer and too sweet perfume, and how he waved them away.

Something about how Jeonghan had apparently told anyone who walked up to him and asked to buy him drinks that he’s waiting for his boyfriend so no, he can’t give them his number. No, they shouldn’t have to buy him drinks either.

Time trickles by like honey dripping into a glass. The night gets deeper. The bar just keeps getting more cramped—definitely too full for pre-exam season—and Jeonghan orders more drinks for both of them. Joshua witnesses for himself how people seem to do double-takes in his and Jeonghan’s direction. It’s a little hard to ignore when he feels an urge to scratch the back of his neck, or when he feels the heat of people’s stares when they pass by. 

Jeonghan keeps his gaze on Joshua, though, seemingly too interested in whatever he’s saying about his other classes and how he should call his mom soon enough. In exchange, Jeonghan talks about his younger sister and mom back at home, and how often he got scolded as a kid for throwing his bag out the classroom window and jumping out. Joshua laughs. Jeonghan's grin is mischievous. How much time has passed? Thirty minutes? An hour? Ten seconds?

Under the weight of Jeonghan’s stare and easy laughter, the bar music turns into a low buzzing in Joshua's ears. His Cass bottles multiply by his arm, and he’s rolled up the sleeves of Soonyoung’s jacket when the heat slowly hits. 

He and Jeonghan are brushing knees. Practically whispering into each other’s ears just to hear each other. Have they always been that physically close? 

Jeonghan leans in so close Joshua feels his breath on his cheek. Warmth on his knee. Under his skin. In his beer where all the ice has melted. 

Fragments of a soft laugh at something Joshua can’t remember he said. Jeonghan’s eyelashes are—

“Jeonghan?”

Joshua doesn’t know how he hears it through the music. Or amidst the cheers suddenly erupting at a nearby table. 

His eyelids are heavy, but he forces them open. Around them, the world crashes in—color, noise, movement.

Jeonghan’s gaze snaps away. Joshua’s stomach boils.

Then, Joshua catches the voice in question weaving through the crowds to get to them. Too quickly, their tiny little bubble at this corner of the bar is popped by a tall, slim guy with pointed eyes and a lip ring and a buffer, tanner guy wearing a black tank top.

In front of Joshua, Jeonghan immediately tenses, his hand clamping onto Joshua’s thigh before he seems to realize it. His voice is steady, though, when he nods, “Minghao. Seokmin. Nice to see you guys.”

Ice water pours through Joshua’s veins. It has him rubbing at his eyes, blinking hard until the world feels a little less hazy.

So these are the ex’s best friends. 

The buffer guy watches him curiously. Joshua looks away, tracking the spin of a girl on a table. Wow. It’s too bright. Too loud. 

When he looks back, Jeonghan’s hand is moving—up Joshua's thigh, slow like he’s trying to calm himself down. Because he's a maniac.

Heat pools low in Joshua’s gut, uncomfortably unfamiliar. His leg twitches. He doesn’t move it away.

Because people are watching.

Finally, the silence breaks. It could have been two seconds or two whole minutes.

Lip Ring’s voice is accented. A little soft. There’s a bite that cuts through, though. “Glad to see you enjoying yourself, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan laughs, a little awkwardly. “Yeah. It’s a good party.”

Another voice, a bit higher-pitched. Buff Tank Top. “Won’t you introduce us?”

Jeonghan’s hand freezes. Jeonghan is still smiling, but it’s the kind of smile Joshua’s seen on people waiting for exam results to see if they passed or failed an entire semester. He doesn’t seem like he’s breathing. A deer in headlights.

And they’re both still being watched.

In a rush of adrenaline, Joshua grabs Jeonghan’s cold hand, laces their fingers together—clumsily, almost desperate—and pushes himself to his feet. He almost stumbles. Jeonghan’s grip tightens as if to catch him. 

Shit, both Lip Ring and Buff Tank Top are taller than him.

“I’m Joshua,” His voice doesn’t sound like his own. The words sound foreign in his mouth. But someone has to keep their act going. “Jeonghan’s boyfriend.”

Lip Ring is named Minghao. He studies Chinese Language and Literature, and moved to Korea from China about three years ago. He looks at Joshua like Joshua personally offended him.

Buff Tank Top—Seokmin—is nicer. He resembles a cartoon puppy and is kinder than his biceps make him look, and he’s more of a curious person than anything else. At least, he doesn’t look at Joshua like Joshua spit in his drink.

Seokmin asks about how they met. He sounds a little cautious

Joshua gets it. Talking to your best friend’s ex about his new boyfriend? It's awkward. Soonyoung got into a relationship only a month after a breakup, he’d act the same way. Heck, he’d probably even be more like Minghao.

Jeonghan orders them all drinks while they talk, like he's hoping they'll talk less and drink more. It works, partly.

While Seokmin throws back shot after shot in between stories, Minghao is more careful, with tiny sips of his rum. Joshua nurses his beer when it arrives because he feels a major migraine on the way, and Jeonghan throws him worried looks every time he falls too quiet. Or just doesn’t react in time.

He acts like a great boyfriend. He’s so good. This must be because of those acting units he said he took back in his freshman year.

The story they tell is according to plan—not that it’s very far from the truth. They met in class, grabbed lunch together one too many times, and felt a crush coming. One thing led to another, and they were boyfriends.

According to their plot, it was Joshua who made the first move and Jeonghan who only accepted his date invitation, because Joshua didn’t want to make Jeonghan look like a douche for their story. He’d argued it was making Joshua look like a rebound, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s a fake relationship. It's whatever, Jeonghan.

Minghao’s judging stare turns withering within minutes, and Seokmin begins to look at Joshua with pity. His collar suddenly feels too tight. They sell the “Jeonghan is an asshole who’s using Joshua to temporarily bandage his broken heart before it all goes to shit" plot well, and Joshua isn’t sure how this will all play out eventually. It’s one thing to fake a relationship. It’s another to let people think you’re the guy keeping someone warm until the real thing comes back.

Still, he rolls with it, even if the looks on Minghao and Seokmin’s faces make him wonder what stories Mingyu told them about Jeonghan. Jeonghan had only ever called it an emotional mismatch, and that it was right to end their relationship four months in before things got “truly serious.”

Joshua blinks against the lights, trying to focus on what Minghao is saying, but the bass keeps vibrating behind his eyes. When he looks back, Jeonghan’s already changed—shoulders straightened, smile gone soft and shy like someone truly in love and in a blooming relationship. 

And to really sell it all, Jeonghan feeds them details, on top of casual small talk about their lives so far. His hand is already so high up on Joshua’s thigh. 

He and Joshua have been dating for only a week now. It all just happened so fast. Joshua is sweet, and Jeonghan is trying to be a better boyfriend. He and Mingyu haven’t exchanged texts yet since, but they’re amicable. Yeah, he swears there’s no hard feelings. No, this isn’t a plot to make Mingyu jealous or something, what are you talking about, Seokmin?

But Joshua doesn’t know why the words sound more like Jeonghan’s trying to convince himself, the longer he talks.

The world begins to spin. Seokmin is telling a story about a gym mishap, but Joshua’s too busy trying to count the number of ice cubes melting in Minghao's glass. He loses track at four. When Jeonghan laughs, it sounds too loud. Too bright.

Jeonghan’s hand burns through Joshua’s jeans. His palm stays there like he owns the spot, light enough to be casual, steady enough to make Joshua’s pulse climb. He can feel sweat trickling down his back, where his shirt has stuck to his skin.

Joshua orders himself a soda instead of a beer. The sugar is almost too sweet on his tongue, and he pretends like Jeonghan’s hand briefly landing on the small of his back doesn’t make his heart skip two beats.

The lights overhead flicker in time with the music, and every blink feels a fraction too long. 

God, Joshua’s fucking drunk. 

Joshua thanks any god listening that he didn’t do anything stupid in front of Minghao and Seokmin. Or Jeonghan, for that matter. 

According to Jeonghan’s morning text, the only crime was nearly face-planting on the bar floor a few times. Seokmin had been quick to catch him before things got ugly and sticky. Not stupid, Jeonghan reassured. Just drunk.

Yeah. He was drunk enough to wake up with a skull-splitting headache and blank spots in his memory. Thank you, Seokmin, for saving his dignity. Surely nothing Gatorade can't solve.

But the problem is this: every time he sees Jeonghan now, something in him feels… different.

The Jeonghan he sees in class is still, technically, the same. He shows up in his obnoxiously bright, oversized sweaters and jogger pants. He cracks jokes under his breath. He invites Joshua out for lunch and they exchange notes, complaints, gossip, and everything under the sun. He has a habit of putting his hand on Joshua's knee and sitting close. Their charade is still on.

But whenever Jeonghan scoots his chair too close, Joshua forgets to breathe for half a beat. Whenever his voice drops to a whisper, electricity runs down Joshua's spine. Whenever his hand even so much as brushes Joshua's own, his heartbeat quickens like a teenage schoolgirl having her first crush.

Joshua is the great old age of twenty-two, for fuck's sake. He's in college. He can write three thousand words in a single night under the pressure of deadlines. He lives with Soonyoung, who is one of the most chaotic figures to ever walk this earth. 

And this is just a fake relationship for the unforeseeable future so Jeonghan's ex can… he doesn’t know, actually, but God, it's probably just to get a reaction, right? Then when Jeonghan finally gets the reaction he wants, they'll stop or something.

Besides, they're friends. Joshua loves being friends with Jeonghan. He's nice and funny and is a great listener. They even help each other study for exams sometimes. They share a library table and try to quiz each other on things based on their notes.

He shouldn’t be more invested in it because Jeonghan obviously is just in it for the plot. 

Anyway, Joshua is about 70% sure it's just the remnants of his drunken brain talking. Jeonghan is still a dude who uses the same tissue to clean a table to wipe his mouth, anyway. Soonyoung has these moments all the time, too—fixations on men he hooks up with because he thinks they're “the one” only for him to ghost the guy three days after.

Still, he finds himself staring at the text Jeonghan left in his inbox after they parted ways following the party: thnx 4 tonight babe hahahahaahh 

He stares at it until the urge to hurl his soul out overwhelms him.

Chapter Text

They see each other in class. Grab lunch. Separate. Send each other memes through text in between studying for exams. It's an entire cycle. 

Joshua's feelings fade the less time he and Jeonghan spends together, and the more time he spends with his nose buried in books. Even more so when exams kick Joshua's ass and Jeonghan quite literally disappears for an entire week.

But much like Soonyoung's fixations, nothing lasts forever. 

The moment their summer break officially begins Jeonghan is already blowing up Joshua's phone with texts, sent in between 12 midnight and 4 in the morning.

Many of them are incoherent, so Joshua is sure Jeonghan was out drinking, but there’s a few that he somehow manages to decipher that catch his attention.

seoaksmin I awjdin abwrt you

hws supciiosux

wy shujls gu pn s daue

fjak miwnsyu knwoz

The only thing Joshua can reply is, stupidly: are you okay?

And at two in the afternoon, while Joshua is lying on the floor with his eyes closed, a bare-footed Soonyoung opens the door to a blue elephant printed pajama-clad Jeonghan. 

Joshua doesn’t appreciate the way Soonyoung hollers into their tiny dorm room without even closing the door, “Joshua, your boyfriend is here!”

Nor the way Jeonghan's hair looks especially…fluffy for two in the afternoon after a night out when Joshua finally opens his eyes and pushes himself to his feet.

Jeonghan opens his mouth at the sight of him. Closes it. Opens it again only to say, in a voice so raspy it sounds like someone used his throat as a laundry washboard, “Can I have a glass of water?”

Any thoughts of Jeonghan looking weirdly attractive fly out the window. 

Soonyoung gets Jeonghan a glass of water. Jeonghan downs it in one go, asks for a refill, and chugs that down, too. Then, he promptly splays himself all over their tiny dorm couch like he owns the place, closing his eyes and stretching out his back. Joshua is pretty sure he just heard Jeonghan's bones crack.

Then, Jeonghan says, “We should go on a date.”

Joshua blinks. “What, like lunch?”

“Dinner. Like a real one. Suits. Ties. Steak. Red wine.” Jeonghan waves a hand in the air like he’s painting the picture above his head with his eyes closed. “Candlelight. Piano in the background. All that jazz.”

Soonyoung suddenly snorts from where he’s on his laptop. Then he's glancing at them, “I'm watching Netflix, carry on.”

They carry on.

Jeonghan continues, barely moving. His hands have dropped back to his sides. One is thrown over the back of the couch. “I could only use the same excuse for so long. But we did you know we don't even have photos—”

Joshua raises an eyebrow even though Jeonghan can't see him. “We took photobooth pictures—”

A sudden cough. Jeonghan sounds like a cat choking up a hairball. God. He doesn’t even cover his mouth. Soonyoung snorts again from his spot on the floor.

Joshua grabs a pack of tissues from their kitchen counter and throws it at Jeonghan, who lets it flop on his stomach, lamely.

Jeonghan finishes with a laugh and a “Anyway, it's summer so we supposedly have time.” 

A pause. It settles.

That makes sense. For the past weeks, they've been treating the hand-on-knee and post-lecture lunches as their “dates,” because they're busy college students who only share one class together. But it gets to a point where it won't be believable anymore, especially now that couples will be littering every public place possible in attempts to get the most out of their free time together. 

For them to look more like an actual couple, they'll have to do more—

Jeonghan coughs again. Joshua wrinkles his nose.

“Okay, but can't we just, I don't know, eat noodles somewhere like normal people? Or grab coffee? Watch a movie?”

“Because, people “in love”—” Jeonghan doesn’t forget the air quotes, “—have photos that are more than bro selfies and funny photobooth prints.”

“We're also supposed to be friends and not every relationship is the same—”

“We need low-lit photos. Holding hands over a plate of spaghetti or something. Us in suits with my hand on your waist.”

“That's dramatic.”

“It's romantic.” Jeonghan props himself up on his elbows, meeting Joshua’s eyes with a gaze too intense for someone in elephant-print pajamas. “That's what a date is.” A pause. “And we need to actually eat the steak. And drink wine. It’s the perfect picture of love.”

The dates Joshua have been on before we're mostly in casual places. Malls. Parks. Arcades. Bookstores. Cafes. Heck, he even went on a date at a street food market once.

Sure, they went to fancier restaurants with pasta on the rare 100-day anniversary and monthsaries, but Joshua has never been on a date somewhere that had actual candles. He doesn’t even know if places like that exist. He probably doesn’t even have the money to even look it up.

Joshua stares at him, pulse rising. He isn’t sure if it's from annoyance, nerves, or something else. “What dates have you been on?”

Soonyoung mumbles under his breath, “I’ll eat your steak for you if you don't want it, just say the word.”

Jeonghan's lips are twitching. “Mingyu's rich, what can I say?”

Then, Jeonghan promptly collapses back onto the couch with a groan and an “ow, my back,” like the mention alone sapped all the energy out of him. Joshua should find it pathetic.

Instead, he stands there, heat prickling under his collar, still thinking about the steak and the wine. How far will they actually have to go for this?

But also, where is he going to get the money?

The last time Joshua wore a suit was for his high school graduation. He doesn’t even know why he brought the set to his college dorm, but it was at the back of his closet, and he had to throw it in the wash. Soonyoung helped him iron it before sitting on his bed and doing absolutely nothing except watching him change into it.

The pant legs fall a bit too short above his ankles, and the blazer is a bit too tight around his shoulders. Joshua switched out the shirt for one of his newer ones, and Soonyoung lent him a tie. 

Jeonghan made all the reservations and promised that Joshua wouldn't have to shell out a single cent. He just had to dress up and show up. The steakhouse isn't, like, all the way across the city, but is far enough that Joshua can’t walk. He trades the supposed dress shoes out for sneakers because he doesn’t want to look pretentious on the bus.

When he looks at himself in Soonyoung’s mirror for the full effect, he looks like a kid playing dress up. Someone too young pretending to be a grown man. 

“Is it too late to call Jeonghan and say I've suddenly fallen ill to a contagious disease and can't show up?” Joshua wonders out loud.

Soonyoung is lounging on his bed, too casual. He hasn't spoken much aside from pointing out Joshua's weird posture. “You look fine. Like a guy about to tell me my eyes look clear and are perfect for seeing the way of the Lord.”

“Fuck off,” Joshua says, but it comes out with too much bite. Soonyoung's eyes briefly widen, and Joshua exhales, shoulders sinking. “Sorry, I— This just feels weird.”

That’s when Soonyoung finally stands, walking over to smooth the fabric across Joshua’s shoulders. For a second, the warmth of his hands steadies him. “It's a date with your fake boyfriend. It's supposed to feel weird. You just can't act like it does.”

For some strange reason, Joshua has never been this nervous for a date before. And all that came before were actually real.

But then, all that came before never had him in a suit and tie, preparing to eat steak and wine for dinner.

The thought has him tugging at his sleeves and fiddling with his tie. He can feel his heart rate climbing again. 

Soonyoung's hands tighten on his shoulders, and in the reflection of the mirror, his gaze has gone serious. “Josh, it's just dinner.”

“I know, but—”

“It's just Jeonghan.”

“And Jeonghan is—” he stops himself.

Something flashes in Soonyoung's eyes. Curiosity or confusion or whatever. “He's what?”

Jeonghan knows his way around stuff like these, is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Jeonghan's idea of a date is steak and wine. Joshua's is a cup of coffee. How different can they get?

The kid in the mirror looks even smaller now.

Soonyoung spins him around. Joshua's sneakers squeak on the floor. 

“If you really aren't comfortable, you can tell Jeonghan. I'll dial his number with your phone if I have to—”

“Don’t—”

“—you're the one doing him a favor. Not the other way around. Don't forget that. You shouldn't do things you aren’t fully comfortable with.”

Joshua falls quiet. Soonyoung's right. It was even underlined twice in Jeonghan’s notes app: no pressure, no crossing lines, no discomfort AT ALL. He has a screenshot of the whole thing. 

And he agreed with this, even if only to help, and because Jeonghan assured him he wouldn't need to lift a finger once he got to the restaurant. 

Soonyoung's hands adjust his collar, fiddles with his tie, pats down his jacket. He even picks off invisible dust, ever-dramatic.

A final pat down his sleeves. Soonyoung cracks a smile.

“It's just Jeonghan. He's your friend, too.”

Joshua’s first mistake is that he looks up. 

There’s a fucking crystal chandelier above them. He grabs the glass of iced water carefully set down in front of him just seconds ago—complete with a wooden coaster—and chugs it down. 

In front of him, Jeonghan is casually poring through a too-fancy menu with dish names Joshua can’t quite pronounce. He's wearing a suit that's a little big for him but he manages to make it work with the top two buttons of his shirt opened and his sleeves rolled up. His hair is tousled, swept away from his forehead with a few strands framing his eyes. He looks great. Perfect. He blends a bit too well in this steakhouse with piano music and candles and a fucking chandelier. 

Joshua has to swallow down his nerves, again, alongside a side of feeling like he isn’t supposed to be here. His own menu is propped up against the edge of the table, half in his lap. He hasn’t moved on from the appetizer section because everything is too expensive for college students.

Or at least, it is for him.

“Have you decided what you want?” Jeonghan asks, conversationally, peeking up over his menu.

“Yeah,” Joshua’s throat is still dry. “I’ll just get onion soup.”

“Do you at least want a salad?”

“I’m good. They serve free bread, right?” 

Jeonghan’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t answer, because a waiter chooses that moment to come around with two wine glasses and pours from the bottle of red wine Jeonghan ordered when they first sat down. But when they’re alone again, his mouth curves into a frown. 

“Just order what you want, I’m putting this on my dad’s card, anyway.”

This is Joshua’s second mistake: a half lie rolling smoothly off his tongue. He’s already planning on raiding Soonyoung’s secret snack stash later on when he returns to their dorm. “I’m not hungry. Honest.” 

Jeonghan studies him for a beat before sighing, lifting his glass, and pulling out his phone.

“Come on. Glasses up. Cameras out. That’s what we’re here for, anyway.”

Joshua obeys, awkwardly following directions—“lift it more,” “cover your face with the head,” and “cheers with me”—while Jeonghan does the reangling and snapping away. When he deems those sufficient, he has Joshua posing with the glass in front of him. Then just Joshua. Then Joshua with the menu.

Then it’s Joshua’s turn behind the lens, catching Jeonghan’s practiced smiles in the exact same poses he had Joshua doing earlier on. It makes him feel a little funny to take so many photos of another person, especially when Jeonghan insists on him smashing the shutter to get “candid” shots for them to look “extra realistic,” but he follows whatever Jeonghan asks of him.

He doesn’t know what the wine is called, but it looked expensive. Definitely out of his own personal budget as someone living in the shitty college dorms. 

So.

Eventually—finally—Jeonghan clinks his glass against Joshua’s and tips back a mouthful of wine. Joshua copies that, too.

The wine tastes like sour bark. Joshua nearly gags. Is red wine supposed to taste like this?

Jeonghan bursts out laughing, head tipped back, wineglass glinting where he holds it close to his face. The part of Joshua that’s still holding onto his phone snaps a quick shot of that, too. Jeonghan’s eyes widen for a moment in surprise before they soften, and his grin widens. “It’s not, like, fruit beer or anything, but it looks good in photos, right?” 

Joshua does a little half shrug. A little embarrassed. “I guess. The mood is nice.”

“Yeah, and it’d be way nicer if you actually ate something.”

Oh.

A bug crawls up the back of Joshua’s throat. He hides behind his menu again, flipping pages he’s not reading just as Jeonghan adds a “decide on it a little more.”

Joshua nods, but all he’ll have is this wine and the complimentary bread that will come after Jeonghan will order. He doesn’t think he can stomach anything right now, regardless of who's paying.

As if on cue, his phone buzzes on the table where he set it down beside the cutlery, and he immediately grabs it just to see Soonyoung’s texts come in. r u good? and Ur eating?

Joshua’s third mistake is checking, when he can feel the weight of Jeonghan’s gaze on his movements, even with menus separating them.

Joshua puts his phone back on the table—facedown—because he goes back to the menu. Joshua loosens his collar and stares at the photo of a too-leafy salad like it might swallow him whole. While he’s at it, he takes small sips of his wine, just to pretend like he’s actually thinking.

But he isn’t fooling anyone. Not even himself.

And definitely not Jeonghan. 

He hears Jeonghan sigh, too loudly. And then—the dramatic sound of a menu snapping shut.

“Let’s go somewhere else, Joshua. I don’t think this is the right place.”

Joshua sets down his menu to see Jeonghan frowning. It’s reached his forehead, little creases all over the smooth skin.

He watches Jeonghan tip the rest of his wine into his mouth, motioning for the check with a flick of his wrist and leaning back in his seat like he’s bored of the chandelier, the candles, the polished cutlery. When he turns to Joshua, his head tilts, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that shines brighter than the lights above them.

It’s less of…anger, and more of… is that amusement?

“We already got our photos,” is what Jeonghan says, like it’s what they actually came here for. “Let’s move.”

Joshua blinks dumbly. Is there a joke he’s missing? “Move? Where?”

Jeonghan’s mouth curls into a half-smirk. Amusement and concern. His voice drops quieter, “Somewhere you don’t look constipated by the menu. You’ve been chewing on it since we got here.”

Heat rises to Joshua’s face. He feels like he’s been sucker-punched. “Excuse me? I don’t look like I need to—”

“You need an out,” Jeonghan quickly corrects himself as their check arrives too quickly, because of course, the service is great at a place like this. “And I’m suddenly not feeling steak.”

The glittering lights of the chandelier above them somehow manage to have sparkles flashing in Jeonghan’s eyes. For a heartbeat, Joshua doesn’t know how to react, despite the sudden relief that engulfs him. 

He feels stupid, when he echoes, “An out?”

Jeonghan leans forward on the table, brandishing a credit card towards the waiter, who already has a payment machine at the ready. His smile turns into less of a smirk. More light. Playful.

Like he wasn’t the one who insisted they needed to eat steak to “sell the image.” That it was “romantic.”

“There’s a ramen shop across the road. I think I saw a chicken place a few blocks away. What’s it going to be, boyfriend?”

"For the record," Jeonghan starts as soon as they settle in a booth at the ramen shop across the fucking steakhouse. It's small and cozy and only has six tables tops. "I just needed the pictures. Mingyu loves that place and I'm a petty bitch. I was thinking we just might as well eat because it's not on me, anyway."

There's some questions begging to be asked there, but Joshua doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Just quietly takes the menu Jeonghan slides over to him and watches Jeonghan shrug his coat off and roll up his sleeves.

Jeonghan catches him staring. "What?'

"Nothing," Joshua quickly looks to the menu, feeling himself flush. It's simple enough to only use up one page and Joshua decides on a ramen easily enough. Apparently it isn’t so hard to pick when the prices don't have so many zeroes on them. "I'll just have the shoyu."

"You want gyoza?"

"Sure."

"Karaage?"

"Why not?"

Jeonghan grins, "Knew you were lying when you said you weren't hungry. How about more salad?"

Joshua's face burns. "I hate you."

"Aw, you shouldn't do that."

"Fuck you."

"That's better. I top, by the way."

Instead of stabbing Jeonghan with a chopstick, Joshua only says, "Of course you do."

He wants to slap the stupid grin off Jeonghan's face. Is it possible to spontaneously combust from heat in one's face? Can he light Jeonghan on fire to get him to quiet down? Will he get arrested for that? Is that considered homicide from annoyance?

Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t spout any more jokes slash innuendos, and they manage to order in peace. Jeonghan orders a kani salad, anyway, with a shit-eating grin and pretends like he's completely oblivious to the way Joshua is glaring daggers at his head.

When the server goes, Jeonghan clasps his hands together and leans forward on the table. The overhead light makes him look like he comes out of a Japanese horror film.

"Well, this is an interesting first date so far. Ditched steak for ramen. Didn't peg you as the type."

Joshua can’t help the snort that escapes him. "Didn’t peg you as the type to wine and run, either."

Jeonghan's mouth falls open in mock offense, "I'll have you know that I paid!"

Laughter fills their little booth. It's lighter now, here, than back at the fancy place, and Joshua can smile easier. Like this, it feels less like a formal date and more like it's just two of them hanging out. More like lunch.

Speaking of—

"How's your class schedule next semester?"

Jeonghan groans, too dramatically. "Dude, school literally just ended."

"No, but," Joshua smiles, "I want to keep grabbing lunch with you."

"Oh, we definitely have to keep meeting up. We're dating."

"I mean—" Joshua exhales, motions in between them, "Like, just food and chill. Without the suits. It's cheesy to admit but I enjoy those more."

"Oh."

Silence. Joshua can hear the chime of the bell above the door when more people push into the joint. Boisterous laughter from another table of people who look like Joshua's age. The clinking of glasses at another where businessmen in suits do a cheer over beer.

When Jeonghan doesn’t speak for a while longer, Joshua begins to think he said something wrong. Or at the very least, he said something weird that put Jeonghan off.

But then, Jeonghan says, "You look good in a suit, though."

There's a too-sincere tone that catches Joshua off guard. And for the next couple of seconds, he genuinely doesn't know what to say. Somehow, he stammers out an idiotic, "You, too. You look great. Really nice."

Jeonghan laughs, "Thanks, but you're just saying that because I said it first."

"No, it's—" A pause. No use arguing. "Yeah."

Jeonghan laughs louder, tilting his head with a grin that feels a little too knowing. “You’re bad at compliments, you know that? You should practice.”

Joshua blinks, heat crawling up his neck. “Practice?”

“Yeah. Start with nicknames. Like I call you baby and you call me sugarplum.”

When Joshua’s mouth drops open in shock, Jeonghan only cackles like the witch he says he dreams about sometimes—the one that ties him up and tickles him. Joshua still isn’t sure if it’s an actual dream.

The laughter fades. All that remains is a soft smile on Jeonghan’s face and Joshua’s burning ears. He isn’t sure if Jeonghan’s smile is teasing or actually sincere, but it makes Joshua want to look anywhere but him.

They leave the ramen joint at nearing ten in the evening with an hour to spare before curfew calls and they get locked out of the college dorms, so they take a walk. To digest, Jeonghan had said. 

Summer hasn’t fully arrived yet, but the night air is already sticky, even with Joshua’s coat off and his sleeves rolled up. Jeonghan’s own jacket is hanging over one shoulder, like he’s a model on a runway. Joshua hates how he thinks so, because Jeonghan is just a guy. 

He’s just a college student. Who happens to be wearing a suit. And look good in one.

Then Jeonghan’s hand slips into Joshua’s—too easily, like it’s nothing—and Joshua notices too late that he doesn’t pull away.

By the time Joshua’s heart catches up with him, Jeonghan is already tugging him toward a photobooth set up on the sidewalk and cramming them both inside. Joshua has to bite back a curse as his shoulder knocks into Jeonghan’s, the tiny space suffocating in more ways than one. It’s a … pressing matter, so to speak, the way his hand is still in Jeonghan’s when his cheek is already smushed against Jeonghan’s chest. 

“I don’t think this is supposed to fit two people,” Joshua says, stumbling as far away from Jeonghan as he can. 

What the fuck.

But Jeonghan is already fishing out his card from his wallet. “Don’t be silly. It’s a photobooth.”

“Weird how it’s practically in the middle of the road.”

“Mhm,” comes Jeonghan’s hum, unconcerned as he taps away on the screen. He loves taking photos, no matter they were doing prior. Says it’s a way to commemorate life. It’s something that Joshua’s learned over the past months; something that he’s nearly forgotten in the rush. “Must be a popup.”

Now that there’s space between them, Joshua takes a second to catch his breath and look around the booth. Wooden walls. A red curtain. It’s nothing special. There aren’t even any props or a mirror like is usual in the airconditioned stores.

Joshua tugs the curtain shut.

Then, Jeonghan grabs his arm, tugging him closer so they both fit in the frame. “Ten seconds, come on, first pose—”

Regular peace signs. Snap. 

Normal smiles. Jeonghan calls them boring, even as he laughs and grins too widely. Snap. 

They use their coats to cover their heads, leaning closer to the camera so it’s just their heads. Snap. 

Jeonghan leans his head against Joshua’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and smiles. Snap.

Joshua throws an arm around Jeonghan. Snap. 

Jeonghan tugs Joshua’s face closer so their cheeks are pressed up against each other’s. 

Joshua almost stops breathing. Jeonghan’s hand is warm on his skin. Soft. Gentle. His thumb grazes against Joshua’s jaw. Joshua’s mouth hangs open.

He watches the countdown drop. Is his heart still beating? At the last second, he turns his gaze back to Jeonghan, whose smile practically splits his face.

Snap. 

There’s a sparkle in Jeonghan’s eye while they wait for the strip to print. He even has his phone out to capture the moment it drops into the slot. Why is he so excited when he didn’t even drink at the ramen place? He can’t possibly be drunk off the single glass of wine from the fancy restaurant—

Jeonghan’s gleeful laugh bubbles through the quiet air. “A vintage photobooth in black and white. Life is so good.”

Joshua’s laugh sounds awkward. His heart is still in his throat. “This isn’t even our first photostrip together.”

“Yeah, but those were normal. Any old pair of friends can take them. This one is special,” Jeonghan briefly turns to him before turning back to the printout slot. “It’s our first date, Joshuji.”

Jeonghan might be the death of him. “Joshuji? Where’d the ‘ji’ come from?”

“Isn’t it cute?” Jeonghan glances at him, grinning. “Just thought of it. No reason.”

Joshua doesn’t catch the moment the photo strips fall into the slot, but Jeonghan is giddily picking them up and handing Joshua a copy. All their six shots were printed, so both their strips have different photos. Joshua got the one with their cheeks pressed together, and it has his stomach twisting. Jeonghan’s smiling face stares up at him and… Joshua’s own eyes are on Jeonghan, and it looks… He looks… Fond.

He feels a sudden urge to tear it to pieces, but Jeonghan makes him raise it up to the red curtain of the booth so he can snap even more photos. Joshua complies; just asks him to send them over later on. Internally, he files the image away. Locks it in the back of his brain never to be touched again. 

As soon as Jeonghan’s done, he pockets the strip, fingers curling tight around it, as if hiding it might make that last frame feel less real. Like it’s just a figment of his imagination.

When they continue their walk, Joshua’s heartbeat is a roar in his ears.

jeonghaniyoo_n

Sent 30 photos.
Sent 30 photos.
Sent 8 photos.

joshu_acoustic

Sent 23 photos.
good night jeonghan

jeonghaniyoo_n

ill post these on my instagram kk ill tag u
thx for tonight
twas fun

joshu_acoustic

sure ill repost them
tonight was fun too

joshu_acoustic

sorry for ruining the steak dinner

jeonghaniyoo_n

ramen was better
anyway
rest up now
sweet dreams joshuji :*

The photo Joshua shared on Instagram was a blurred one of Jeonghan with his wine glass. Jeonghan’s face wasn’t even clearly visible in the shot, and Joshua didn’t put any kind of text or music over it, but he wakes up in the morning to his phone exploding with notifications.

All of them are DMs—screaming, one-word-per-message DMs—in variations of “i didn’t know you were dating” and “WTF”s.

He ignores them all until Soonyoung’s food delivery arrives and he’s inhaled a bowl of spicy rice cakes. Even then, he scrolls through all the names in his inbox. 

Soonyoung with a shocked face emoji that Joshua is sure he sent just to be annoying. Junhui, who has a habit of randomly popping up in Joshua’s messages ever since they hit it off after a special language class two semesters ago. High school best friend Seungcheol, who sent too many messages for Joshua to willingly click on first. About seven or eight more other classmates and people who Joshua should really catch up with soon enough before classes start up again.

He chooses to simply not reply to any of them—except Soonyoung, whom he only sends a middle finger emoji—because he isn’t sure how to react to them all when they’re asking about his “soft launch guy” and how he “got together with your new boyfriend.”

Instead, he goes onto Jeonghan’s profile and taps on his profile picture. In his commitment to their bit, Jeonghan has posted three different stories, and Joshua taps through them all. 

The first is a photo of the steakhouse menu, with Joshua’s glass of wine in the background. No text, but the music playing is a Hozier song.

The second story is a photo of Joshua that Jeonghan didn’t send to him, and he didn’t even realize it was taken. Joshua’s lips are jutting out in a pout over the same menu, and Jeonghan put a black heart emoji beside his face. No blurry shots—just straight-to-the-point.

And the last has Joshua’s heart stuttering in his ribcage: a photo of their black-and-white photobooth strips held together. It’s this one that Jeonghan has soundtracked with another Hozier song—really, how performative can he get?—with a caption to match.

sweet night with the sweetest guy <3

He clicks back to the first story and taps the heart at the lower right corner of the screen. Does the same for the other two. While his finger hovers over the text box of the third to reply…something, a new notification pops up at the top of the screen.

It’s from Seungkwan—one of Soonyoung’s friends from his brief stint in theater club. He’s been around to their dorm a couple of times; Joshua likes him. Seungkwan has sparkly eyes and round cheeks that make Joshua want to bite him, but he also has a wicked sense of humor and a great voice for karaoke.

booravo

thats jeonghan isnt it

Joshua taps too quickly into the message, accidentally liking Seungkwan’s message before he panics and removes it. Fucking hell. This is why he shouldn’t hold a phone until he’s been awake for two whole hours.

Seungkwan is still typing, the little three dots disappearing and appearing multiple times until—

booravo

yup just saw his story
congrats!
you have to tell me all about it when i get back from jeju

Joshua wants to cry. Seungkwan is not a guy he wants to actively start avoiding because he’s so fun to be around, but if Joshua doesn’t get a grip on himself and his and Jeonghan’s “stories,” he’s going to have to lock himself inside their tiny dorm room.

Soonyoung chooses that moment to exit the shower, a towel around his neck and his phone already in hand. He calls out a laughing, “You can’t curse out everyone who reacts to your fake relationship, Josh!”

And Joshua can’t bite back the, “I don’t curse everyone.”

“Yeah, tell your middle finger that.”

God, help him. 

All Joshua replies to Seungkwan is a short:

joshu_acoustic

haha yeah sure, see you whenever

Chapter Text

They go on dates at least twice a week. It’s the compromise between Jeonghan’s weekend trips home and Joshua’s desire to stay inside, lest he melt under the blazing June sun.

Jeonghan says it’s because they have to look “inseparable” as a couple. 

It’s also because Mingyu has allegedly not sent Jeonghan any messages yet. According to Jeonghan, Mingyu sees all the stories, but hearts them sparingly. Mostly if they’re funny, like the one time they went to the arcade and Jeonghan lost twenty dollars trying and failing to win a rabbit plushie.

Jeonghan insists it’s because Mingyu thrives in seeing him miserable. Joshua thinks Mingyu is just a regular guy who enjoys misery and slapstick, but he doesn’t say it aloud.

After their disastrous first date at the steakhouse, Jeonghan stops trying to be “romantic.” They go to regular date places, like parks or the mall. Neighborhood arcades where Jeonghan shoos away little kids from the game machines so he can sit and play. A giant movie theater with a wall of popcorn flavors that he didn’t even know existed. The occasional cafe because Jeonghan prefers walking with his drink than sitting down like a normal person.

Time flies by. Joshua thinks he’s visited every possible date location in Seoul by the time July is halfway through. By the time July ends, there are enough photo strips to fill up half the wall above Joshua’s desk at the dorm. Soonyoung once walked by and snorted, not caring enough about Joshua’s confusion to expound why he snorted—

Slowly, Jeonghan begins to make space himself for himself in pockets of Joshua’s brain. The keychains Jeonghan hangs on his bag—both plushie and non. The story behind the little pouch on his phone case that makes him look like an uncle and how the amulet he keeps inside it supposedly keeps the ghosts living in his dorm room at bay. The red ballcap he always keeps on his body because he’s too lazy to bring umbrellas out.

One time, Jeonghan returns from his weekend visit to his parents’ house with stickers on his nail beds. Joshua learns, then, that Jeonghan’s sister is named Soobin, and that she wants to open up a nail salon of her own. 

On another time, Jeonghan returns from his parents’ with a tub of kimchi and containers of side dishes in hand that he insists on giving to Joshua because “it’s way too much.” Joshua and Soonyoung polished them off being Jeonghan even left the next weekend.

Time passes. Joshua begins to memorize the warmth of Jeonghan’s hand in his while they walk around any area they’re visiting. The weight of a hand on shoulder, or around his waist. How Jeonghan’s thighs feel pressed up against Joshua’s when they sit at restaurants or cafes and the booth is tiny.

The way Jeonghan’s nose scrunches up before he begins complaining about feeling tired. The content smile that makes its way to his face when he leans his head against Joshua’s shoulder on rare days they stay in and watch a movie.

Jeonghan’s usual cafe order—a strawberry latte with extra whipped cream. Jeonghan’s go-to snacks: cheese puffs with a box of strawberry milk. Jeonghan’s favorite movies—My Tomorrow, Your Yesterday and any Studio Ghibli film, but Inside Out is a close second.

And of course—everything is documented, with Jeonghan posting a customary photo of Joshua on his Instagram story the moment they see each other. Joshua has taken to walking over to Jeonghan while posing because Jeonghan’s phone is already whipped out even when Joshua’s still waiting to cross the road.

Other photos are candids. Most of them are planned, though, with an obscene amount of photos filling up their galleries every time they see each other. Joshua soon finds himself clearing his apps’ cache even before he leaves the dorm, because his phone once notified him of full storage while Jeonghan was rapping his heart out to Beenzino at karaoke—and Jeonghan yelled at him through the mic.

It reaches the point that Joshua doesn’t even think of their “dates” as dates. It’s just them. They’re just hanging out. Jeonghan and Joshua. Joshua and Jeonghan. 

Occasionally, he’ll even post unplanned photos of Jeonghan on his Instagram stories, and have far too many people liking his uploads. He’ll even tag Jeonghan on unflattering shots. Even those get too many likes.

Because really, their dates are just hangouts. They eat, they talk, they joke around. They just happen to sit closer to each other and walk while holding hands. Sometimes, Jeonghan’s hand will settle somewhere on Joshua’s body, and Joshua has since gotten used to the fact that Jeonghan is just clingy. That his love language is physical touch in comparison to Joshua’s words of affirmation.

Once too many times, Soonyoung will comment on how “inseparable” they’re becoming, and each time, Joshua will tell him that that’s exactly the plan.

August arrives with a heat wave that has Joshua absolutely refusing to leave the dorm. On a Friday evening, Jeonghan arrives at their door with giant plastic bags of snacks in his hands because they’re going to watch Netflix. There’s enough for three of them—including Soonyoung, because it’s a rare moment Soonyoung wasn’t staying over at whoever’s place, and Jeonghan got so excited at the prospect he asked for an entire list of Soonyoung’s favorite snacks.

But there’s a frown on his face now, and he’s early enough that Soonyoung isn’t even back yet after his afternoon affair. So there must be something.

Joshua asks what’s wrong as he takes the bags, and Jeonghan hesitates, tugging at his red ballcap before blurting out—

“I think we should kiss.”

He almost drops the bags, sputters out, “Excuse me?”

“We need more drastic measures.” Jeonghan tosses his cap onto the coffee table, where it slides and stays at the very edge. “Maybe Mingyu isn’t texting because we aren’t being… Couple-y enough.”

“Couple-y enough.”

Sure, Joshua thinks that their hangouts are just hangouts, but he also thinks they definitely look very couple-y. Why would so many people like Joshua’s Instagram stories if they didn’t think it was real? People don’t even post photos of themselves kissing their significant others on Instagram—they’re private moments.

Besides, they’ve held hands. Been to practically every date spot in Seoul with photos uploaded on Instagram to boot. Taken photobooth photos at every date, with the recordings all up on Jeonghan’s Instagram stories.

Do they really have to kiss?

When Joshua says just as much out loud, Jeonghan tilts his head. “Couples kiss. That’s normal.”

“Yeah, but— what, do you want to post it on Instagram? Because that’s not normal.”

“Sure, it is! People post photos of them kissing all the time. They’re adorable.”

Joshua hesitates. Do they really have to go that far for an act? He can feel sweat build up in his palms, his heartbeat rising at just the thought of Jeonghan’s lips on his cheek. Or Joshua’s lips on Jeonghan’s cheek.

Or—god forbid—actual kisses. Full on the mouth. 

Heat rushes to Joshua’s face. He immediately turns away from Jeonghan, setting down the bags on the coffee table. “We don’t need to kiss. We’re doing fine. Look at the photobooth wall!”

Joshua wants to laugh it off, but he can feel Jeonghan looking at him. Out of Joshua’s peripheral, he can see the tilt to Jeonghan’s head, the puppy-dog look in his eyes. The way his lips jut out in a pout, too. Glossy and red and—

Fuck. He wants to say “absolutely not” and push Jeonghan toward the couch to order him to set out all the snacks he bought.

Jeonghan presses, “Just once. I promise, if we do it and it doesn’t work, we don’t have to do it again. All your call.”

When Joshua isn’t able to find his voice fast enough for Joshua’s liking, Jeonghan adds again—

“You can be on top. Take the lead, Joshuji—”

Joshua’s stomach drops, and he manages to unfreeze and grab a pillow from the sofa. He lobs it straight at Jeonghan’s face, where it lands with an oof!

“You’re a freak.”

Jeonghan laughs as he picks up the pillow and tosses it back on the sofa. The spell breaks. Joshua’s heart is still pounding too loudly against his ribcage. His face is still on fire. His mouth feels as dry as a fucking desert—

But when Jeonghan asks again—softer this time—Joshua doesn’t have it in him to say no.

Jeonghan’s dorm feels way bigger than Joshua and Soonyoung’s.

Maybe it’s because he lives alone, but there isn’t any side that is particularly cluttered. Sure, Jeonghan has an overflowing laundry basket in the corner, but his sink is free of dirty dishes and his tapletops are clean, and even his bed in the corner of the room is made.

Still, he isn’t a slob, and Joshua doesn’t know what to feel about that.

Jeonghan grins and opens the door wider for him, “Come on in.”

Kissing lessons. In Jeonghan’s dorm because Joshua would never dare to kiss a man in the room he shares with Soonyoung. He wouldn’t ever be able to live down the teasing.

“You know I know how to kiss,” is what tumbles out of Joshua’s mouth. It makes Jeonghan laugh as the door gently shuts behind him. “I have kissed people before.”

“But have you kissed me?” Jeonghan counters, a playful grin on his face as he walks into his room and throws himself down on his bed. His shorts ride a little up his thighs, revealing pale skin, and Joshua sort of wants to die.

God.

Joshua sits down at the corner of the bed—as far away as possible—refusing to look at Jeonghan directly. Instead chooses to focus on the posters Jeonghan put up around his dorm. Film posters. Bands. Little pastel-colored art cards with illustrations. Just like Joshua’s own wall, Jeonghan has an entire wall dedicated to photostrips—except much bigger. It’s homey.

“Nice room, though,” Joshua says, eyes on the photostrips. Even from far away, he can tell most of them are with different people. All different colored frames with all sorts of poses. Some of them are of Jeonghan alone.

“Thanks.” 

In Joshua’s peripheral, he can see Jeonghan pulls his legs to his chest as he leans back against the plush headboard he has installed over his dorm mattress. His legs are spread slightly, perfect for Joshua to settle in. Heat bubbles in Joshua’s own belly. Fuck. Is he supposed to sit there?

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

Jeonghan smoothly replies, “So that when we kiss outside, it looks natural.”

“I can pretend like we always kiss when we’re in public.”

“You won’t even come close to me in private—”

“That’s because this is fake, Jeonghan, and—” Joshua bites his tongue. Throws the and kissing you here will make it feel real inside a cage and locks it.

There’s a tense beat when Jeonghan doesn’t react. Joshua holds his breath.

Then, Jeonghan says, “And what? You’ll fall in love with me?”

It comes with a laugh that has Joshua feeling like Jeonghan thinks the idea is ridiculous. Like the idea of Joshua falling in love with Jeonghan is so far-fetched, and that kissing him is probably disgusting.

Joshua’s face is burning when Jeonghan adds, grinning, “I’m a good kisser, but come on, Joshua—”

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from. Joshua pushes himself to his feet and walks over to where Jeonghan is seated comfortably, leaning over him and pressing their mouths together. Their noses almost bump. Joshua’s hand finds itself on the headboard. 

A surprised noise leaves Jeonghan’s throat before he instinctively seems to relax. It’s so physically palpable, when they’re this close, and Jeonghan’s mouth tastes faintly of strawberry milk. But before Jeonghan can even begin to kiss back, Joshua pulls away, chest heaving with adrenaline.

Jeonghan’s cheeks are dusted pink, eyes wide. “You do know how to kiss.”

Then he’s sitting up, throwing his legs over the side of his bed. The blush is still on his face, but he’s laughing it off. “But is that it? Barely two seconds?”

Joshua stumbles back. His chest is tight, his heartbeat violent. He can still taste strawberry milk, and it’s too much.

What the fuck—

Jeonghan grabs his arm and pulls him back in before he can go any farther. Joshua nearly gets whiplash from it all.

A solid arm around his waist. Legs bracketing Joshua’s body. A hand creeping up to the back of his neck and tugging him down. Joshua angles wrong and he almost laughs, but just before their lips touch—

“Now,” Jeonghan murmurs against him, breath hot and his grin almost wicked. “It’s practice time for real.”

Joshua is shut up quickly, when Jeonghan swallows Joshua’s laughter straight from his mouth.

Goosebumps rise on his skin. Electricity everywhere. Joshua’s knees would have given out if it wasn’t for Jeonghan’s hold on him—and in the midst of it all, Joshua finds himself thanking every god out there that Jeonghan lives alone.

Jeonghan’s lips are the softest Joshua has ever kissed. His hand on Joshua’s nape is a solid weight that keeps him grounded, and Jeonghan tilts his head just enough to deepen their kiss as he licks into Joshua’s mouth.

Suddenly, Joshua is just following his lead, his pulse spiking. When Jeonghan’s body moves, Joshua follows as if he’s entranced. When Jeonghan’s hand travels from Joshua’s nape to his shoulder, Joshua physically shudders, and Jeonghan pulls away quickly enough just to laugh. 

“Relax.” There’s a gleam in his eye, “It’s just me, baby.”

Then, Jeonghan is propping himself back on his bed, with his hands on the front of Joshua’s shirt. Joshua tumbles over him, and Jeonghan’s body is warm all over. Again, Jeonghan laughs as he waits for Joshua to steady himself. Lets Joshua place his hands on both sides of his head with a stupid smile on his face, stupidly saying told you I’ll let you top—

Joshua knows it’s just for “practice” or “kissing lessons” or whatever, but all he can think about is how this moment between them suddenly feels too intimate. Too soft for just “kissing lessons.”

Because Jeonghan reaches up to capture his lips again, nudging him into the angle he wants and whispering that’s much better against his lips and his hand is cupping Joshua’s face. His thumb strokes along the curve of Joshua’s jaw, and Joshua’s hands wind themselves in Jeonghan’s shirt, pressing close.

They’re too close, and it’s all too fast—

It’s too hot. Jeonghan’s hands are traveling to sneak under Joshua’s shirt, pressing flat against his bare stomach. Jeonghan mouths down his jaw, bites and soothes at his throat. Joshua can’t help the sounds that escape him when his fingers slide into Jeonghan’s hair, helpless—

It should feel weird—to be making out with your friend regardless of whether he’s your fake boyfriend—but the air is thick and his body feels too uncomfortable, too tight in his own skin when Jeonghan pulls away, looking up at him with dark, hooded eyes and a mouth bitten red and swollen and glassy with spit—

That’s Joshua’s spit, and Joshua feels a little insane and—

Fuck.

It feels all too real.

Joshua is twenty-two when he bemoans how his life is turning into an American teen romance movie.

Soonyoung’s face fills the tiny rectangle of Joshua’s phone screen, settled in the dark with his eyes half-closed because it’s three in the morning, Soonyoung is home at Namyangju with his family, and Joshua just had to call because he couldn’t sleep freaking out.

Joshua is twenty-two when he realizes that the romance movies he used to laugh at apparently have some semblance of realism, because if they didn’t, then why is he in this predicament now?

“Josh, dude, can’t this wait until the morning?” Soonyoung is mumbling into the speaker of the phone. 

It could, technically. Joshua could shove his phone under his pillow, shut his eyes tight and count millions of sheep until he fucking falls asleep. Or not. He could open his eyes and five minutes have passed no matter how many sheep he counts, because he doesn't even see sheep when he closes his eyes.

He sees Jeonghan’s fucking face.

He feels the ghost of Jeonghan’s lips on his own, on his jaw, on his neck.

So Joshua says, “No, it can’t. Because I am fucking freaking out, and I can’t— Oh my god. This is insane.”

Soonyoung mumbles, voice growing quiet, “If this isn’t about the dorm being on fire, I’m hanging up—”

Joshua can’t tell Soonyoung. Soonyoung wouldn’t even be able to begin picturing how it felt for Joshua to kiss Jeonghan. Or for Jeonghan to kiss Joshua and touch him and pull him close and look like a fucking angel on earth underneath him—

He needs to sleep.

It was practice. All practice. All fake. 

That kiss didn’t mean anything—

Soonyoung is already asleep on the line, the angle of their call going wonky when his phone presumably slips out of his hand. Joshua ends the call, shoves it under his pillow, shuts his eyes tight, and—for good measure—thinks of Jeonghan’s stupidly good-looking face edited on the body of a horse.

Because he absolutely can, and Jeonghan can’t possibly look good as a centaur.

But then his brain conjures up Jeonghan with long, golden hair and glittering armor, and Joshua wants to scream into his pillow.

Joshua is twenty-two when he thinks he’s beginning to harbor a juvenile crush on his fake boyfriend.

From then on, the summer slows down. 

In the two days more he spends alone in the dorm, Joshua tries to distract himself. He cleans his room and even .picks up the clothes on Soonyoung's side. He calls his mom twice a day. He rearranges the bathroom and refills what needs to be refilled. He even pulls out Soonyoung's exercise mat and tries to copy videos off YouTube.

Jeonghan texts. Links to TikToks that supposedly remind him of Joshua. Links to upcoming movie trailers he's interested in. Concert posters of bands heading their way. They don’t talk about their...little moment, and Joshua would like to keep it away with a hundred-foot pole.

Soonyoung calls him dramatic when he finally gets around to telling him about it all because Joshua thinks he might actually explode if he doesn’t let it out. Says that what if Jeonghan actually likes him as more than a friend, because what kind of person practices kissing their friend—and doesn’t stop when it gets heated? Joshua throws a pillow at Soonyoung's face and hopes it hurts when it lands because what doesn’t he understand about it being a fake relationship?

"Friends can like their friends in a not-so-friendly way," is Soonyoung's response. It lands on Joshua instead, and it's a fucking strike through the heart. And just to drive it further in— "You like him."

Joshua tries meditation.

The next time Jeonghan calls him out for a date, Joshua has become pretty good at thinking different thoughts when his brain veers too close to Jeonghan territory. Like when a kiss scene pops up in a drama or a film he and Soonyoung are watching, he conveniently chooses that moment to scroll through Instagram. Or when he looks at something online and suddenly thinks of Jeonghan, he looks at the price instead. It's especially effective if it's expensive.

And by the time Joshua sees Jeonghan's face again at the subway exit before they head off to the movie theater, he pointedly stares at Jeonghan's forehead. Not at his eyes. Not at his lips.

Except it has Jeonghan asking, sounding mildly amused, "Do I have something on my forehead?"

And all Joshua can do is say "no, you don’t" through gritted teeth and go back to looking at Jeonghan's face like a normal person.

He's so fucked.

Some cartoon film about jungle animals is in theaters. Apparently it's one that Jeonghan has been expecting for the longest time because there's some adorable lizard on it. Joshua is pretty sure Jeonghan sent him the trailer, though with all his exercise attempts, meditation sessions, and all the other stuff Jeonghan sends him on a near hourly basis, he can’t really remember it anymore. But they grab popcorn and drinks and settle into their seats near the top row.

Beside him, while trailers roll, Jeonghan is chattering about his schedule for the upcoming semester. Joshua only registers half of it, when he's too busy nodding along and pretending like he's listening and definitely not like sitting beside Jeonghan in such an enclosed space at a seat is notorious for couples...doing things...doesn’t do weird things to his nervous system.

"Hey, boyfriend," Jeonghan is leaning over to whisper in his ear, "This theater is full of kids."

It's so sudden a statement that Joshua laughs out loud in surprise. "We're watching a cartoon movie."

"Yeah, but movies don't have age limits. We're the only—" Jeonghan makes a dramatic show of craning his neck and looking around the theater. As if to prove his point, a family of five with parents and three young kids enter. "Twenty-somethings here who aren't parents."

There's a joke in there somewhere begging to be told. Yada yada about how they can be parents together if they wanted to yada yada. Joshua grabs a handful of popcorn and munches it down while Jeonghan watches the room, amused, from their vantage point. There’s still a few rows above them but no one has gone up where they're at so far.

Instead, when Joshua swallows, he says, "Would you rather we have picked another?"

A pause. Jeonghan genuinely seems to think about it. Then, the lights dim, and he shrugs in his seat, settling back even more comfortably. 

"Nah. I've been waiting to see this one since trailers dropped."

Joshua laughs, and Jeonghan shoots a last grin his way before the movie actually starts. Joshua turns his eyes back to the giant screen in front of them, calming his heart down with a giant gulp of soda.

It's fun. It's all the things a cartoon movie should at least be—talking animals, constant comedic timing, and heartfelt moral lessons or whatever they call it. 

Jeonghan must have been really into the film, because his eyes are fixed on the screen the entire time, barely even glancing down at whatever he's shoving into his mouth. And when he finishes his snacks, his hand occasionally lands on Joshua's arm over the armrest. Sometimes, their fingers end up interlacing—and while really rare—Joshua admittedly ends up a bit distracted by the roar of his heart in his ears over the funny screaming in the movie.

Joshua knows he's touchy. Since the moment they started fake dating, Jeonghan has had hands on his body every time they had to make a performance of it all.

But, somehow, it just feels worse now because Joshua has had realizations.

And what makes them even worse is how mindlessly Jeonghan seems to be doing them.

Fucking hell.

The movie ends as peacefully as it can get. They stay until the credits finish rolling and Joshua chugs back the last drops of his drink. They pass by the bathroom to wash their hands and throw away their trash. Joshua is scrolling through the unread notifications on his phone when suddenly—

"Joshuji!" Jeonghan is cooing, an arm snaking around his waist and pulling him impossibly close. "Where should we go after?"

Joshua nearly drops his phone. There’s a lilt to Jeonghan's voice that tells him that it's an act. He feels a hand sneak into his back pocket. What the fuck— 

Still, the dryness of his throat and the stutter is all too real: "Do you want to get coffee?"

"But we already had soda." Jeonghan's pout has Joshua thinking unspeakable thoughts. Are they going to kiss? Wasn’t the hand in back pocket thing supposed to mean a kiss? "Arcade?"

Wait.

Does he want a kiss—

"Oh, hi! Jeonghan! Joshua!"

And Joshua jumps again. Jeonghan's arm tightens around him as Seokmin and Minghao come into view. Seokmin is waving too dramatically wide, and Minghao has his hands in his pockets, face blank.

That explains it.

"Hi guys," Jeonghan says far too cheerfully, giving an additional nod in Minghao's direction.

Seokmin's grin is blinding. "Didn’t expect to see you guys here! What'd you watch?"

"Hoppers. It was really fun."

"Yeah?" Seokmin's tone pitches higher, and Minghao pulls his hands out of his pockets to put a hand on Seokmin's arm like he's worried he'll start vibrating in place. "We were thinking of that, too."

"Actually," Minghao opens his mouth, "I was looking more into Jackie Chan."

The way Minghao's eyes then fall on Joshua and Jeonghan's arm around him is unsettling to say the least. Since the moment they first met, Minghao has always seemed to have eyes that felt like they could see straight to Joshua's soul. Past all their acting skills and soft touches. Scrutinizing at its peak.

Can Minghao guess how Joshua's heart beats too quickly in his chest now?

Can he tell Joshua is catching feelings?

Small talk continues. Joshua stays quiet and Minghao continues to chime in whenever needs be. Mingyu is apparently home for the rest of the summer break, Seokmin tells Jeonghan when he conversationally asks. Apparently, the three of them are joined at the hip, not unlike Joshua and Soonyoung. Joshua pointedly chooses to ignore the way Jeonghan begins tapping on his hip, at that moment.

Luckily for them, Jeonghan is great at leading conversations where he wants them to go, and he gets them an escape, reasoning out that they have dinner plans to get to.

Seokmin is, still, too cheery when they go and Joshua still avoids Minghao's eyes. Can feel them burning into the back of his head.

Joshua chooses to ask as they walk away from the pair, "Are we really making up dinner plans?"

And Jeonghan only laughs, "It's not making up if we actually go to dinner, right?"

The sunset is setting a pretty pink in the distance when they exit the theater and get back out onto the road. Seokmin and Minghao are far away now, and there are no other eyes watching them, but Jeonghan doesn’t let go of him. His hand only moves from Joshua's waist to clasp Joshua's own hand, and really, there's no need for this out in public, but Jeonghan doesn’t let go.

Joshua doesn’t try to pull away, either.

"I think Minghao knows."

"Don't be silly," Jeonghan says, automatic, pushing around the whipped cream in his strawberry frappe so it looks like a star. They're sitting in a cafe three blocks away from the theater. "Of course he doesn’t know."

"No, but," Joshua frowns. "Have you seen his eyes? I feel like he knows."

"Minghao looks at everyone like that." A pause. "Except Seokmin. He looks at Seokmin like the sun shines out of in his ass." Another pause, then he adds, thoughtfully with a finger tapping at his chin. "Minghao looks at me like I crashed his tea party."

Joshua leans back in his chair, frown deepening. 

Maybe it's because he isn’t tipsy at all, but he's about 97% sure that Minghao actually knows—the remaining 3% being just paranoia because Minghao does look at everyone like that. Is he just reading into it all too much?

But at the same time, he’s sure that with how fast things are and how suddenly Jeonghan just introduced Joshua as his boyfriend, wouldn't there be at least one who got suspicious?

And wouldn't it be most likely that it'd be Minghao?

When Joshua voices it out loud, Jeonghan only grins at him over his cup after he takes a long drink. There’s still a smidge of whipped cream on the edge of his lip. Joshua has to fight the urge to reach over and wipe it away. 

Jeonghan's smile is mischievous when he says, "Should we look for Minghao and start making out in front of him?"

Joshua's face burns. He throws a tissue in Jeonghan's direction instead.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"God, I hate you."

Jeonghan starts making kissy faces. Joshua wishes he could die and regrets even bringing it all up.

Chapter Text

The fall semester begins. 

Joshua meets Kim Mingyu on the very first day, during the very last class, a general lecture on ethics. They're made to introduce themselves one by one, and Kim Mingyu—a tall, tanned guy with muscles practically bulging out of his short-sleeved white tee—goes last. When Joshua hears his name, he looks up from his phone so quickly he gets neck pain.

Mingyu actually sits nearly perpendicular from Joshua in the row behind him.

Joshua only notices it when Mingyu returns to his seat and their professor takes to the platform again.

What were the odds?

It has him texting Jeonghan frantically, only to receive a response two minutes later that reads: ill pick u up from class, c u.

The first day lectures all go in one ear and out the other, and Joshua is too busy staring at the door to take in anything that’s being written on the blackboard or projected on the LED screen. 

By the time the class ends and the doors swing open to let people out—their professor being the very first—Joshua hears Jeonghan before he even sees him.

“Joshuji!”

Which he supposes is a feat in itself, considering how long he was looking at the door.

Joshua stands from his seat probably too quickly, hitting his knee against the underside of the table. He hisses in pain, and within two seconds, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Jeonghan’s face too close to his.

“Oh no, my Joshuji, you’re one day in and already hurting yourself!”

“Fuck off,” Joshua grumbles, face heating up as he rubs at the sore spot. He can feel eyes on them, so he keeps his eyes on his knee. “When did you get here?”

Jeonghan laughs, “About five minutes before the doors opened. I was in the library.”

“You don’t even have class this afternoon—”

“Yeah, but you did, and I just had to see—”

“Jeonghan?”

Joshua freezes.

The hand on Joshua’s shoulder grows heavier, and there’s a pause before light is flooding back into Joshua’s space when Jeonghan straightens. “Hi, Mingyu.”

“Jeonghan, it’s so good to see you!”

Joshua thinks a bruise is forming on his knee. Jeonghan’s hand is still on his shoulder.

Small talk everywhere. Joshua can barely register Mingyu talking about the coincidence that Jeonghan’s boyfriend is in the same class. That he and Jeonghan got to see each other. How is his pet rock? How’s his classes? When is he graduating?

Joshua thinks it’s overkill, really. If Mingyu was a dog, his tail would be wagging so fast fur would fly everywhere.

Mingyu’s grin is blinding when Joshua finally musters up the courage to look at them, and there’s a twitch to Jeonghan’s lips as he looks at Mingyu like he isn’t sure whether to grin or to grimace. It sends a sick sense of pride straight to Joshua’s chest, which he quickly wills away because this is a fake relationship so—

Why?

Joshua goes back to shoving his notebook in his bag, making a big show of pretending like a sheet of paper caught onto the zipper. Jeonghan’s hand travels from his shoulder to his bicep, squeezing it lightly.

This is all so stupid. The way Mingyu’s smile at Jeonghan is so fucking bright is stupid. The way Jeonghan actually went all the way here the moment Joshua brought up Mingyu is stupid. The way Jeonghan’s hand slips into Joshua’s while they walk out of the room like it’s the most natural thing ever is stupid. The way Joshua’s stupid heart flips every time Jeonghan does anything even remotely related or referring to Joshua is so fucking stupid—

It gets worse.

Mingyu invites them out to dinner, and Jeonghan so graciously agrees. Very unfortunately, Joshua is obliged to come with. 

They sit at a table in the college cafeteria with trays of cheap school food and about three Jeonghan-and-Mingyu topic changes later—what kind of exes have so much to talk about, even?—Seokmin and Minghao arrive with their own trays, and Joshua gives up on pretending like his stir-fried pork is the most interesting thing since sliced bread.

“Oh, wow, the gang’s all here,” Jeonghan practically coos. His head is leaning against Joshua’s shoulder, and their hands are intertwined under the table. Joshua is shoveling food into his mouth with his other hand. “We should throw a party, Joshuji.”

They definitely should not throw a party.

“Minghao’s throwing one this weekend,” Seokmin pipes up, very helpfully. He’s so helpful Joshua wants to buy him another heaping tray of food and feed him from his own hand like a baby bird to keep him chewing and silent. Who cares if Seokmin sort of chews with his mouth open?

“No, I’m not,” Minghao says over his tray. He takes a sip from his water cup, prim and proper. “The Chinese student association is. I’m just happening to make dumplings.”

Then Mingyu starts raving about Minghao’s dumplings and his cooking, and how they should all try it because he’s just that good. Then Seokmin is talking about Mingyu’s steak grilling and his own kimchi stew making, and Joshua continues to eat.

Jeonghan makes an aaah sound from his shoulder and Joshua offers him a bite of pork. Jeonghan shakes his head right then and there, then points at Joshua’s fruit cup.

“You have hands, Jeonghan,” is what tumbles out of Joshua’s mouth. Jeonghan laughs, a little quietly. They don’t disturb the trio’s conversation, where they’ve moved on to talking about their classes so far.

Jeonghan makes a little whine, and Joshua nearly stops breathing. Images flash through his mind. A hand heavy on his hip. Lips on his neck. Jeonghan licking into his mouth.

Joshua tears open the fruit cup so aggressively syrup spills out of the edges, and pokes at a peach chunk with his chopstick, lifting it to Jeonghan’s lips. 

An obscenely large iced Americano is in Boo Seungkwan’s hand when he knocks at Joshua and Soonyoung’s dorm on a Thursday night. 

Like, he knocks and barges in because he already knows the door code from the one time Soonyoung drunk-texted him his personal, private information.

“That can’t be healthy,” Soonyoung frowns from where he sits on the floor with his laptop, only looking up when Seungkwan enters.

“What’s not healthy is you always sitting on the floor hunched over. You’re going to bust your back like that,” Seungkwan smoothly replies. He puts his coffee on their table and perches himself on the sofa beside where Joshua is on his phone, immediately snuggling up to him. “Hey, lover boy.”

Joshua can’t ignore him any longer. He’s known Seungkwan was coming, anyway, because he texted about half an hour ago that he was finally back from Jeju.

“Don’t call me that.” Still, Joshua keeps his eyes fixed on reels of nearby restaurants and supposed hidden gems in Chicago. “How was Jeju?”

“Great. How’s Jeonghan?”

Soonyoung literally cackles.

Joshua lobs a pillow at him without looking and hope it lands. Based on the muffled oof! coming from Soonyoung’s general direction, it does.

Seungkwan is wriggling in his seat, excitedly slapping at Joshua’s arm. “You have to tell me all about it! 5 Ws and 1H! The complete shebang!”

“Ow, ow, ow—”

“Who confessed first? Since when was this? Did you kiss? Did you meet his pet rock—”

“Why does everyone know about that rock except for me?”

“Doljjong is his beloved pet. You haven’t met him?” A pause. “Ah, well, never mind. Maybe he hasn’t been introducing him to people these days, anyway— Why do you like Jeonghan, Joshua?”

“He’s…” Joshua stops. Annoyingly handsome. Funny yet a little dry with his humor. Sweet in the ways that he always makes Joshua walk on the inner side of the sidewalk even on no-car roads. “Dumb.”

“Yeah, I know,” Seungkwan motions for him to continue. “What else?”

“He’s a good guy.” He’s amazing."

“Joshua, we don’t have all night.”

“We do if we don’t sleep. You already have coffee.”

Soonyoung bursts out into laughter again. He’s long since stopped typing away on his laptop. “He’s just deflecting.”

Seungkwan shoots Joshua a look, and honestly, he finds it unfair because it’s Soonyoung who’s unnecessarily loud— 

“Give me the juicy stuff, come on, he’s your boyfriend—”

Something about Seungkwan prying into his business makes him want to just spill the fact that it isn’t even a real relationship. Sure, people have asked before but they’ve never had Joshua this tongue-tied and they’ve never been this persistent. Most of them just congratulated him on the relationship and asked how he’s doing.

Still, he owes it to himself and Jeonghan to keep up the ruse.

But how can he keep up the act when everytime he thinks of Jeonghan, his insides go all funky like someone’s playing disco music and all his innards are having the times of their lives?

Eventually, he decides to say, “He… notices things.”

Seungkwan’s eyes flash in amusement. Interest. Intrigue. Whatever. “What things?”

“Like…when I’m tired, he gives me snacks. And stuff. Or when he shuts up when he notices I’m sort of not in the mood to talk.”

The more Joshua talks, the wider Seungkwan’s grin gets. And it comes to a point that Joshua gets a little surprised by the things that come out of his mouth because he doesn’t usually think about them much—or at all, even. They’re little, tiny things that just happen in passing whenever they see each other, so Joshua isn’t sure how his brain managed to filed them all away.

He even mentions their supposed first date at the steakhouse, and how Jeonghan had them getting up and leaving to get ramen instead because it didn’t fit “their vibe.” That while Jeonghan is mostly the ones planning their dates—because it’s his idea to be fake boyfriends, after all—he makes space for Joshua; that their plans change the moment Joshua doesn’t feel up to them.

It gets to the point that even Soonyoung tucks away his laptop for a moment to twist around just to watch him.

It’s embarrassing, how much Joshua finds himself talking. How Soonyoung’s original shit-eating grin turns into something softer. How Seungkwan nods along like he gets how Jeonghan’s personality and brain works—and how Joshua has started to like him.

He says just as much when Joshua runs out of things to say, after recalling a moment during one of their many photobooth sessions about how he watched Jeonghan helped a little kid who couldn’t reach the accessories.

Seungkwan makes it sound concrete. “You really do like him.”

And Joshua’s throat gets a little dry and he gets the massive urge to grab Seungkwan’s coffee and chug it. He itches for a beer. After all the softness, he finds himself adding, just to tone it all down: “He’s still really annoying, though.”

“Of course he’s annoying,” Seungkwan snorts. Shakes his head with a fond little smile because he knows Jeonghan, too. “It’s in his DNA.”

Seungkwan makes Joshua’s feelings sound real. “Legit,” Soonyoung would call it.

The night goes slower after that. Seungkwan finishes his giant Americano while he tells them about his classes so far, about his family and dog back in Jeju, about this one guy he met in a lecture hall who’s apparently really into experimental art films and Shrek simultaneously.

Seungkwan leaves after he drains his coffee and throws his trash in Joshua and Soonyoung’s bin. It’s nearly midnight by then, and Joshua is really, honest-to-god looking for a drink.

So he does, and Soonyoung looks at him weirdly for it.

Joshua doesn’t pay him any mind. From what he can see of his phone on the coffee table, Jeonghan is still sending him links to videos and TikToks, and Joshua plays off his racing heart as a result of his sudden alcohol intake and not about how it all suddenly feels even more real than it already was.

And after, Joshua lies awake, scrolling through Jeonghan’s endless stream of TikToks. Every stupid video and corny meme makes his chest tighten.

He’s so fucked. He can’t do this anymore.

The next time Joshua sees Jeonghan is when they meet up at the school gate before heading to grab lunch together the very next day.

The first thing he says, at the sight of Jeonghan’s cheeky grin and hand raised in a wave: “We should break up.”

Jeonghan blinks. His hand drops to his side, and his smile twitches. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s stop this.” 

Joshua sounds braver than he feels, even when his voice trembles. He’s shoved his hands in his pockets to pretend like he’s calmer than he actually is, because some part of him is wondering why he’s the one breaking up their fake relationship, but at the same time, this won’t be healthy to him at all.

Still, maybe the words tumbled out too quickly. A part of him was hoping they at least paid the bill before they got into talks because he genuinley enjoys their lunches together.

Jeonghan’s smile drops. Fully. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s—” Joshua pauses to think of a word that will make it all sound…not so insane. More logical, especially for Jeonghan. Definitely not like Joshua’s caught feelings. “It’s great, but isn’t it dragging on a little too long? We already got Mingyu’s attention.”

“That’s true,” Jeonghan hums. “He doesn’t even seem to care.”

“Exactly, so why should we even still—” Joshua’s voice cracks. Pathetic. He’s a pathetic man. “Is there still a point to it all?”

There’s a moment when Jeonghan seems to really stop and think about it, humming to himself. He kicks around at pebbles on the ground, and the song he’s humming under his breath sounds vaguely like a song from Animal Crossing.

Then, he straightens, looks at Joshua and asks, “Do you not want to be around me anymore? Am I boring you?”

“No, you’re great. Super fun. I love being around you—”

“So why? What’s the problem?”

And the look in his eyes is too serious that it takes Joshua aback. Has Joshua’s throat drying up because Jeonghan thinks he’s boring when Joshua is already—

How can Jeonghan not know the effect he has on people? How can someone just be so…ignorant of that when he’s such a goodlooking guy?

Joshua rubs at the back of his neck, searching for better words, but with Jeonghan’s eyes on him, it’s…difficult.

 “It’s just… It’s not you, okay? It’s all me.”

Jeonghan snorts. “The classic breakup line. Really? Joshuji?”

“Don’t—” 

Jeonghan tilts his head in question, lips jutting out in a pout. “What, I can’t call you Joshuji now, too?” Then he puts a hand on his heart, dramatic. “You wound me, baby.”

Joshua flinches. “I don’t mean it that way—”

“So how did you mean it?” Back to seriousness. “Come on, we can talk through this.”

Joshua wants to scream.

They can talk, but how can Joshua get over his feelings?

How can he admit that he’s catching feelings at all?

“I can’t— I just don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s… It’s not— I don’t know what we’re doing it for anymore, or if how you can even keep doing this at all, when it’s so—” He gulps. “I just can’t. Let’s stop this.”

Silence.

Jeonghan’s face flashes with something Joshua doesn’t want to begin to dive into, before softening.

The quiet stretches. Joshua can feel his palms sweating, and he wipes them too aggressively on his jeans. His stomach is beginning to ache; maybe he really should have let them eat first—

Joshua has the urge to say something, anything—

But Jeonghan only nods. Sticks a smile on his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. One that looks awkward and tight in all the wrong ways.

“Okay. If that’s what you want. Sure.”

And that’s that.

To be fair to Jeonghan, they never actually decided how long they’d keep up the ruse. There was nothing set in stone—except their few ground rules on skinship, and the number one rule that the moment anyone wanted out, they’d get it.

Even meeting Mingyu didn’t faze Joshua so much, when that wasn’t anything they ever mentioned would ever happen. Still, the first time it happened, Jeonghan sat him down to ask how he felt about it all, and Joshua shrugged it off because Mingyu’s a classmate. He’s a nice guy. And if there was no bad blood between Mingyu and Jeonghan, then who was Joshua to stop them from crossing paths?

So this…thing Joshua had been feeling—he’d thought it was all just in the films and dramas. He didn’t expect it to actually happen in real life.

But when Jeonghan had been so nice and had held on to him so gently and had always been careful with him, except for that moment when—

Ahem.

Joshua shoves the memory back before it can resurface. There’s no use replaying all the moments Jeonghan had been too-good a boyfriend that Joshua had felt his heart stutter. It was never real anyway. It was never supposed to be.

Pretending to be boyfriends was just supposed to be helping out a friend. A performance. Something friends do for their friends. So now that Joshua feels the lump in his throat over his lunch alone at the cafeteria table before he can even get through half of his kimchi stew, it’s a little…insane for him.

Jeonghan had asked if they were still going to grab lunch together. Casual. Easy. Because they were friends. But Joshua had probably stammered out a no, I have stuff to do, and Jeonghan probably asked what stuff and if he could come, and Joshua probably said some flimsy excuse and ran away. He doesn’t know what happened.

But yeah. His kimchi stew is looking a little bright today, and Joshua grabs onto his spoon to shovel a large spoonful into his mouth. He coughs when the chili powder hits the back of his throat—and if Jeonghan was here, he’d smack Joshua’s back and slide over a cup of water.

But he isnt.

And Joshua wasn’t ever supposed to catch feelings, but he did. 

And now he has to deal with it.

Just like his kimchi stew now. He has to deal with it. Watery eyes and screaming throat and too-big, lonely cafeteria table and all.

Soonyoung is staring at Joshua like he just he said he wants to jump off a bridge, one eyebrow cocked at him from where he’s sitting on the floor with his laptop. It’s judgmental—really judgmental—and Joshua sort of wants to shy away.

It feels a lot like deja vu.

Finally, Joshua gets the courage to say, “Stop staring at me like that.”

Soonyoung blinks. “You already had a boyfriend. Fake, but still, a boyfriend. Why would you break up with him?”

“I was catching feelings—”

“And you didn’t care to ask if he was, too?”

“Wouldn’t he have said something while I was breaking up with him if he was?”

Soonyoung’s left eyebrow lifts again. Just the left. He’s eerily good at that. He calls it isolation or something, Joshua isn’t sure. Then, he closes his laptop shut with a snap. “Why would you expect him to do something even you yourself wouldn’t do? You had all the chances to tell him, but you didn’t.”

“Can’t you just comfort me like a good friend?” Joshua knows he’s whiney. It’s annoying even to his ears, but he’s still a little fragile and Soonyoung is metaphorically whacking at him with a sledgehammer. “Don’t be mean.”

The moment Joshua walked into their dorm that afternoon, Soonyoung had clocked that something was wrong, and it didn’t take long for Joshua to tell him that he broke off his fake relationship with Jeonghan.

Hence, the drama.

Soonyoung stares at him again for what feels like an ungodly amount of time.

Joshua sighs, “Fine. Don’t comfort me. I’ve been craving yogurt ice cream, anyway.”

And that’s when Soonyoung unfreezes with a yell and a pillow lobbed at Joshua’s head. It hits him in the chest.

When they break into the ice cream tub—together, because Soonyoung insisted—Soonyoung is still frowning at Joshua like he can’t wrap his head around the idea of catching feelings during a fake relationship and breaking up. Joshua doesn’t understand why. So many movies have that kind of plot.

“Yeah, but we aren’t in a movie,” Soonyoung says between scoops. “This is college, Josh. I still stand by the idea that he might like you back.”

“But there’s Mingyu—”

“Who he said multiple times is an ex. Sure, Mingyu’s hot, but dude, do you know how many people actually still like their ex? In that way?”

Joshua pauses, spinning his spoon between his fingers. The refreshing taste of the yogurt in his mouth runs a little bit sour. “This all started because he wanted revenge or something.”

“Months ago,” Soonyoung is stabbing into the tub like it isn’t already melting. “Feelings change.”

“Yeah, but…” And Joshua finds that he doesn’t actually know how to respond to that anymore. He just eats ice cream quietly, and Soonyoung lets them fall quiet. 

jeonghaniyoo_n

are u still up for minghaos party tonight

The notification comes in on Saturday morning, when Joshua is enjoying his mug of iced coffee while he spaces out over his homework. Soonyoung is still snoring away, and Joshua is pretending like the words on the page are actually registering in his head. 

Still, he almost spills his coffee on his laptop when Jeonghan’s message pops up at the top of his screen.

He hadn’t really forgotten about Minghao’s party, but in between a lack of texts from Jeonghan since the day they broke up and a sudden rush of assigned homework, it had been on the back of his mind. It’s not like he could ask Minghao or Mingyu about it, either, because it was Jeonghan who was more of their friend. Joshua was just…that other guy. Technically.

Before Joshua can even pick up his phone to type out a response, another message is already popping up.

jeonghaniyoo_n

i can pick u up at 8 if u want

Then—

jeonghaniyoo_n

but no pressure if u dw 2 go

Joshua pauses. The three dots in a speech bubble pop up beside Jeonghan’s name again. Disappears. Pops up. Disappears.

It doesn’t come back from a long while.

Joshua sips from his coffee. Glances at his homework. He has a paper he’s already halfway through in that’s due tomorrow, then readings for the upcoming week. Nothing too major, unless he counts the three exams he should probably start studying for. He can go if he wants, really.

He stares at the text a while longer. Until the ice in his drink has melted, and he’s typed ten different variations of “sure” and “yeah” and “who else is going” and “ should i bring anything.” He backspaces it all.

Finally, he sends a reply.

joshu_acoustic

sounds good

Exactly six minutes pass before Jeonghan replies—with an uncharacteristic exclamation point to boot.

jeonghaniyoo_n

I’ll pick u up!

Soonyoung is watching Joshua from his door, an eyebrow cocked at all the clothes thrown haphazardly on his bed.

He’s already dressed to go out, wearing a loose white shirt and khaki pants like an uncle—”a cool uncle,” Soonyoung had corrected Joshua earlier, because he apparently has a beret and coat to match—but he isn’t going to Minghao’s party.

Apparently, some guy from one of Soonyoung’s classes invited him to a book club meeting, and the guy was too hot to say no to.

“What if you just wear…” Soonyoung taps a finger to his chin, “Nothing?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Joshua just about wails, throwing down a black polo. He’s starting to get chills from standing in his underwear. “Don’t you have to leave already?”

Soonyoung makes a big show of checking his nonexistent watch for the time, “I’ll go in five.”

Joshua on the other hand has been rummaging through his closet for the past hour for anything that doesn’t “look like a brunch outfit,” doesn’t “look too disco, we aren’t in the 80s anymore,” and doesn’t “look like you’re trying too hard to look good” because “you’re not even a part of the Chinese student association, Josh.” 

He’d already tried on and taken off about seven different outfits—all thumbs-down-ed—and it’s getting pretty hard to decide what to wear. What does one even wear to a party run by the Chinese student association? Are they going to actually party with drinks and all, or are they going to sit and listen to someone talk about the club’s history?

When Joshua voices this, the look Soonyoung gives him is offensively withering. Like Soonyoung isn’t looking like a middle-aged man clutching onto the last remnants of his youth with his outfit.

“Come on, Josh,” Soonyoung sighs, finally stepping into the room. “Just dress normally. Pretend you’re going to class but have a final panel.”

Joshua wears button-ups when he has final panels. The same button-ups Soonyoung just called “too dressy.”

He picks up a light blue one off the pile he just set aside and tugs it on. “If I knew that was what you were going to pick, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Soonyoung gives him a look. “Would you have managed to get dressed on your own otherwise?”

Joshua meets his eyes, “I’m not a toddler—”

“You’re emotionally constipated—”

“—I am not—”

“—which is pretty much the same thing.”

A beat.

Joshua breaks eye contact first. Soonyoung’s laugh is bright and booming.

“Wear that shirt with jeans or something. Not black because it’s formal, but not white because it’s a party and what if a drink spills.” A pause. “Put your hair up, too. Show some forehead. It makes you look hot.”

And on that note, Soonyoung promptly leaves.

Joshua turns to his messy pile of clothes and sighs. He grabs a pair of wide denim jeans and puts those on, too. He also steals some of Soonyoung’s hair gel, lathering too much on his fingers and running hands through his hair for what feels like the better part of three minutes. 

It’s only when his phone starts vibrating violently from where he fished it out of his clothes pile that he stills.

His hands are still sticky so he wipes them on a stray towel before grabbing his phone, only to nearly drop it when he sees the texts Jeonghan left him. 

jeonghaniyoo_n

im outside

but no pressure ofc

tyt!!!!!

i can wait

see you

come out when ur ready

God, he’s overdramatic—Joshua himself, he means. The question is, will he ever be ready?

Joshua drops his phone back on his bed and returns to his mirror, staring at the way his hair sticks up. It isn’t as effortlessly cool as how it usually becomes when Joshua is just heading to class and not a party.

Soonyoung would tell him that's just how the world works, and Joshua would frown and tell him that it isn't fair because it really isn't.

When his phone vibrates a few more times, Joshua takes a deep breath, and digs back into his mountain of clothes for a pair of socks.

This will have to do.

It’s just a party. It’s just Jeonghan.

He doesn’t even know what kind of party it’ll actually be.

Jeonghan isn’t even his fake boyfriend anymore.

So why does it feel like he’s about to see him for the first time?