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ticktockbunny · 10 months

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one, two, three | l.dh

genre ❥ highschool au, best friends to lovers, rom-com

pairings ❥ nerd! donghyuck x cheerleader! reader

word count ❥19.0k (my longest fic ever can you believe it)

synopsis ❥ In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.

warnings ❥ none! it’s tooth-rotting fluff. the both of them might be a bit frustrating at times but this might be my favourite haechan out of all my fics so far :)

info ❥ please let me know what you think about the individual scenes. also i let myself go a little crazy over the entire running theme of literature and little women in this one

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any unattached high schooler in possession of decent grades, must be in want of a relationship.”

The way Karina says it confidently amuses and impresses you in equal measure, but Ningning only scoffs. “That is most definitely not what Austen wrote. Don’t let Mrs Kim hear that.”

Mrs Kim is the literature teacher for your entire level, a kindly woman in her fifties who’s lenient with assignments. You think she’s much too passionate about classics to be stuck teaching a few hundred teenagers who can barely comprehend the intricacies of classical writing, but life has a funny way of putting people in places they’re not meant to be.

Besides you, of course. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. The first table from the left of the canteen, nearest to the food line, and directly under the air-conditioning. It’s also exclusively reserved for the cheer team, while the opposite is for the rugby team.

You never thought you would subscribe to something as ridiculous as a canteen seating hierarchy, but you’ll gladly reap the benefits.

One thing that might be nice, however, is if the meal options were improved. You’re not sure how well pasta salad and a carton of lukewarm milk is supposed to sustain you the entire day, but it’ll have to do for now.

Maybe you’ll drag Donghyuck for a ramen run later. Speaking of which.

“Have any of you seen Donghyuck?” you ask, and there’s a chorus of shaking heads from the rest of the team, before Ningning pouts, looking at you. “Him again? You’re always asking about Donghyuck,” she teases, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because I can never find him,” you mutter, before putting down your cutlery. There’s no longer much of an appetite, especially when you have more important things to do.

When you stand up, Karina raises an eyebrow, and you grin. “I’ll be right back.”

The din from the canteen becomes softer once the glass doors close behind you. Your sneakers are squeaking against the shiny floor, noticeably conspicuous due to the silence. There’s only one place even quieter than the hallways during lunch break, and it’s like there’s a direct path guiding you to Donghyuck.

When you spot a familiar bag resting on the floor, you smile. “Bingo.”

It takes less than ten seconds for you to reach Donghyuck’s desk, and another five for him to realise you’re standing there, hands resting on your hips. He blinks, before setting the book in his hands down gently. “Oh, hey. Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the empty space opposite.

The boy’s dressed in his usual black hoodie and ripped jeans, white reading glasses resting gently on his nose. He had picked them out a few years ago in a shop, after you had finally convinced him to do something about his color vision. The glasses suit him more than you expect, and it’s refreshing seeing them compared to his usual preference of contact lenses.

You slide into the booth opposite until you’re facing him, chin in hand. “You’re reading on lunch break?”

He sets down the book the moment you sit down, pushing away his things to make space for your elbows.

Donghyuck’s the epitome of a model student to you, considering his stellar grades and position as president of student council. It’s not in a way that’s overbearing, but rather plain and simple - the boy is just more intelligent and capable than the majority of people in his age group.

Still, reading on lunch break seems like a bit of an anomaly, considering he likes food as much as you do.

“I’ve got a council meeting after school, but I need to finish this reading for English. Which is why I’m slaving away,” he sighs out, and you look away, humming in thought. “Need me to get you food? I was going to ask you out for a ramen run, but I guess you can’t do that now.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m good,” he assures, and you arch an eyebrow.

“You sure?” You’re looking at him intently now, voice distrusting. Donghyuck looks as if he’s hesitating.

“Gimbap…would be nice,” he admits, and you smile triumphantly. “Got it.” There’s a perk in your step as you rise from the table and tell him you’ll be right back.

By the time you buy it and deliver it to him, the bell rings, and you’re left saying a quick goodbye before Donghyuck rushes off. It’s harder seeing him when he gets busy, but you chalk it down to the fact that during slower months, an inordinate amount of your time is spent with Donghyuck.

And when you finally finish cheer practice in the evening, you notice a plastic bag resting next to your backpack. Opening it makes you grin slightly, immediately seeing one pack of your favourite ramen and a marinated egg, along with iced coffee.

“Who’s that from?” Karina asks, and you grin slightly.

“Donghyuck.”

You can’t hide the smile on your face when you say it.

The first time Donghyuck got a job, he couldn’t shut up about it.

It’s funny the more he thinks about it, considering it wasn’t even really an actual one - his mother had offered two dollars an hour for him to make sure the dog didn’t trample on her precious flowers.

But for twelve-year-old him, it seemed like the most daunting, impressive task he had been given, one that he was determined to embark on with fervour.

It took less than four days before he realised how aimless it was, and spent more time sitting on the porch with his Switch when his mother wasn’t looking.

But Donghyuck supposes he doesn’t particularly regret taking on the below-minimum-wage job, not when it allowed him to meet you.

“Is this your dog?”

Donghyuck checks twice to make sure his game progress is saved before looking up, only to be greeted by the sight of a girl no older than he is, hair tied in a neat ponytail and a white sundress reaching down to your knees. “Um, yeah,” he mutters, voice not unfriendly but awkward in the way that most boys his age are.

He may be extroverted, but Donghyuck quite literally has no idea who you are, considering he’s never seen you in school. Besides, the only person he’s interacted with all this summer is Jaemin, who occasionally invites him over to play Super Smash Bros. “What’s her name?”

“Bambi.”

You wrinkle your nose at his reply. “Why would you name your dog after another animal?”

His posture straightens imperceptibly, somehow feeling the need to defend himself against your judgement.

“Why not?” He challenges, watching as you hesitate slightly, before seeming to acquiesce, giving Bambi a few affectionate pats on the head. At your silence, Donghyuck sets his gaming console down, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward.

“What’s your name then?”

You look at him, as if almost surprised at the boy’s curiosity. “Y/N. L/N Y/N. I just moved into the house next to yours,” you reply, Bambi now sitting obediently next to your shoes.

Donghyuck’s not sure whether to be disappointed that your name isn’t weird, but instead very pretty. The syllables are unfamiliar, but they roll off his tongue nicely.

He’s not sure if you’re as fascinated by his name as he is yours - Donghyuck isn’t a particularly unique name, but he can’t stop himself from practising calling yours, until even his mother notices it at dinner.

That summer, you spent a lot of time with Donghyuck - the heatwaves kept most people inside and there weren’t many places a twelve-year-old could go on their own. You quickly got used to stuffy afternoons spent in his living room playing card games, or having Donghyuck attempt baking cookies with you in the kitchen.

And when the holiday ended, heralded by the beginning of autumn, you found yourself still sticking to Donghyuck, even as the both of you navigated a new school year and branched out into different friend groups.

Six years later, the both of you were still side-by-side, even as other classmates came and went and your sixth-grade school uniforms gave way to a lax high school dress code.

On the brighter side, Donghyuck’s area of employment has improved - he’s now making much more than minimum wage helping to transcribe songs for a local indie label, and it’s a job that he enjoys plenty, considering how he’s allowed to take home a few extra albums each month that don’t sell.

It also helps that the employee benefits are good, and the manager, Johnny, is pretty chill with whatever Donghyuck does as long as it’s not a direct violation of company policy. He suspects it’s because the man grew up in Chicago, and is long used to troublemakers. Here, Donghyuck’s job is simple - to help make good music, and he’s fulfilling it to the best of his ability.

You find Donghyuck in his usual position at the counter, headphones over his head and an unplaceable tune escaping from his pursed lips. His fingers are drumming to an invisible rhythm that you can’t hear, but you watch him with a fond smile on your face anyways.

He’s only played snippets of his own work here and there for you, but the boy’s talent is undeniable. Still, Donghyuck only casts you an indulgent look of appreciation each time you tell him he’s just as capable of starting a career as the artists he’s helping.

You don’t tell him that you secretly think he’s even better and would buy his records over anyone’s any day.

When you tap his shoulder, Donghyuck spins around in his chair, hand placed over his heart for theatrical effect. “You scared me,” he says, and you only grin. “Came to drop off the stuff you needed.”

He takes the bag from you, peering inside before looking back up and smiling gratefully. “You’re an actual lifesaver,” he gushes as he takes out the extra discs and a badly-needed charger, along with a change of clothes.

“I know,” you reply smugly, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He’s already used to the back-and-forth bickering between the both of you, but he’s thankful nonetheless, knowing that you must have dropped whatever task you were busy with to rush down to the store.

Until your phone buzzes, and you pick it up with a concerned glance, wincing apologetically as you gather your things. “Sorry. Karina called an emergency meeting. I’ll see you after work?”

Donghyuck nods, watching as you shove your phone into your tote bag. Right as you turn to leave, however, he places a hand on your elbow, halting your steps.

It’s only then that he notices the claw clip in your hair, a transparent one with little flowers dotted throughout. He doesn’t usually see you with your bangs pushed back, not since middle school, when your mom forced you to get that one bad haircut.

But it looks much better now, and Donghyuck finds his throat turning dry at the sight of you, before he remembers what he had planned to do.

Being the naturally affectionate person he is, Donghyuck has placed soft pecks on your cheek before, often followed up by you quickly shoving him away. But he hasn’t done it for almost a year, for the sole reason that if he allows himself to kiss you on the cheek, he might just want more.

He’s not sure what it means, the way his heart strangely twists each time he looks at you, in a way that’s both pleasurable and painful. It started when you had ditched practice to accompany him on the school rooftop, just to listen to him complain about the new student council treasurer.

The way you had thrown your head back and laughed at his never-ending rant, elbows linked with him as you swung your feet over the edge, taking a sip of the strawberry yoghurt drink shared between the both of you.

Donghyuck doesn’t even remember what he was angry at Jisung for, only that you looked extra pretty that day.

And it’s moments like this where he wants to kiss you even more, and he can’t be bothered to try and hold himself back any longer.

To his surprise, however, you don’t react with your usual expression of disgust, instead remaining silent, your wide-eyed expression searing itself into his mind. It fills him with a quiet, brimming sort of anticipation, and he swears your gaze darts to his lips, just briefly. Maybe if his kiss just shifts a few inches over-

Donghyuck’s train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, signalling a customer. You quickly pull back, and he tries not to make his irritation at the disturbance too obvious.

“I should go,” you say to no one in particular, before grabbing your tote bag and rushing through the glass doors of the store, the bell signalling your departure. He finds himself smiling at your frazzled state, and wondering if it means something. If it means that he might have a chance, no matter how minuscule.

He doesn’t even realise the corners of his lips are tilted up, until Johnny comes out from the storeroom, the new equipment balanced in his arms.

“Did something good happen? You look pleased,” the taller man comments, looking over at Donghyuck who runs his thumb over the tote bag you left for him.

The younger boy only grins in response, a sort of plaintive expression on his face as he casts a longing glance at the door where you had just been moments ago.

“Yeah. I guess you can say that.”

The realisation hits you at nine on a Friday evening, and it’s surprisingly easy to swallow. You’re going to fail math.

You shove the textbooks in the corner of your shelf, vowing to never pick them up again. However, the exam date that sits on your calendar circled in red serves as a reminder that you’ll likely have to take your words back soon, if not immediately.

When the doorbell rings, it’s the perfect distraction for you.

Spending time with Donghyuck at the end of each week has quickly become a welcome respite from the monotony of school, and you’re buzzing with excitement as you rush down the stairs.

“I’m not sure why you still ring the doorbell, considering you just come in by yourself,” you say, as you pour the popcorn out into a bowl and hand it to him. Donghyuck shrugs. “Courtesy. Just in case you need time to hide a dead body or something. What movie are we watching today?”

A grin makes its way onto your face at the question, and Donghyuck’s eyes flood with suspicion before he lets out a groan of exasperation. “Do you not get tired of watching it?”

You shake your head, smiling. It’s the sixth time you’ve made him watch Little Women, and despite the fact that Donghyuck doesn’t take literature, you think he might be starting to grow partial to the movie.

It’s coming close to midnight by the time the end credits roll, and your bowl of popcorn lies empty on the table.

“I still think Jo and Laurie are meant to be, by the way,” he points out, and you whip your head towards him indignantly from where you’re seated on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. “You’re wrong,” you retort. Despite the late hour, both of you are surprisingly alert. You from the two coffees, and Donghyuck because- well, he pretty much survives on three hours a day.

“But he’s just settling for Amy.”

“Amy makes Laurie a better person, that’s why they’re together. Jo and Laurie would never work out. They’re meant to be best friends, not lovers,” you explain, watching as Donghyuck’s expression shifts to something unreadable.

“But there’s so much passion between the both of them. Don’t you-” he mutters, before leaning over, “-want something like that?”

His question weighs heavy on your mind as he moves closer, until the both of you are a hair’s breadth away from each other.

The sudden loss of distance between you and Donghyuck makes your breath hitch, the air charged with an unfamiliar tension, one that leaves your heart racing. You have no idea what it is, other than the fact that Donghyuck is much too close for comfort. He looks almost disappointed when you stand up abruptly, narrowly avoiding spilling the drink in your hand.

“I- I’m going to get more snacks,” you stutter out, barely gathering your composure before you rush off to the kitchen. When you’re inside, however, you quickly place your hands over your cheeks, eyes widening in alarm when you realise they’re warm.

You’re blushing. For some god-awful reason, being with Donghyuck has made your heart rate speed up and your face flush, which can only mean one thing.

You’ve fallen sick.

There’s only another possible alternative, and you really don’t want to consider the implications of that.

“Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you turn around, the perfect image of a deer caught in headlights. It’s only then that you notice Donghyuck’s dressed in a loose band tee and sweatpants.

It’s an outfit that you’ve seen him wear a thousand times, and yet, you can feel a nervous lump form in your throat at the sight of him.

“You were taking really long in the kitchen. Is something wrong?” he asks, eyes curious as he looks at you.

Your mouth feels like it’s full of sand as you struggle to find the words to explain. “I- I think I’m sick.”

At that statement, concern becomes apparent on Donghyuck’s face as he strides over to you, placing a hand gently on your forehead to track your temperature. The sensation of his palm against your forehead floods you with regret, however, for the sole reason that you feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Your temperature feels fine. Do you feel unwell anywhere?” he questions insistently, but you’re too dazed as you continue to lean against the kitchen island, the marble cold against your back.

You need to get out of this situation. Immediately. You duck abruptly, Donghyuck’s palm falling from your forehead to his side.

“I just remembered I have an assignment I need to rush,” you hastily blurt, and he makes a confused face at your change of topic, before shrugging. “I can help you,” he suggests, and you shake your head aggressively at that.

“It’s okay. I’m really good at math.”

You’re lying. It’s a blatant lie, and from the way that Donghyuck stares at you, you know he knows that it’s absolute nonsense. But he seems to relent, perhaps due to your frazzled appearance.

“Okay. Take some Panadol or something if you’re not feeling well. I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yeah. See you,” you breathe out, watching as he turns away and exits the kitchen.

The front door clicks shut reassuringly a few moments later, and you let yourself sink to the floor in relief.

Donghyuck doesn’t message you for the rest of the night, something that you’re grateful for. Despite his physical absence, however, the boy resolutely refuses to leave your mind, even as you force yourself to clean up the coffee table and return the snacks to their designated places on the pantry shelf.

It’s only when you’re standing over the sink, red popcorn bowl between your two hands, that your cheeks darken again at the thought of him moving closer to you, eyes searching yours in the darkness of the room.

The both of you have had hundreds of movie nights at this point, the catalogue almost emptied and favourite movies repeated over and over again. Like how the both of you always force each other to watch The Conjuring on Halloween, Donghyuck still screaming at each jumpscare despite how he knows what's coming. The end of the midterms means watching The Kissing Booth, even if you poke fun at him for it.

You don’t mind repeating them over and over again, because it’s Donghyuck. Even sitting with him in complete, utter silence would be enjoyable.

The glow coming from the living room catches your attention then, and you trudge towards the couch to grab the remote before realising that you and Donghyuck never finished the movie before you freaked out and he left.

In a split-second decision, you decide to press play, the house dead silent save for the dialogue between both characters. You only realise seconds later that it’s the scene on the hill, the one where Laurie confesses to Jo.

You’re unable to tear your eyes away from the screen, the scene suddenly feeling a little too real, meaning something more than the previous times that you’ve watched it. Destined to be friends, never lovers. That was exactly what you told Donghyuck.

But you’re starting to think that you might be dead wrong.

You’re quickly learning that while Karina and Ningning may be encouraging during practice, they’re not as supportive when it comes to your personal life. The latter is staring at you with an expression of disbelief on her face, while Karina simply lets out a tired sigh.

”So…the answer’s no?” you ask, a tinge of hope still sneaking in.

“No, Y/N, you can’t be allergic to a person. That’s not how it works,” Ningning states, looking at you as if you’ve gone mad. “Who even is this about?” Karina asks, and you wince slightly at the question.

“Donghyuck,” you finally admit after long enough, nervously taking a sip of your juice.

“Sounds to me like you just have feelings for him,” Ningning interjects, and you set down your bottle, looking at her. “Not possible.”

“More possible than you being allergic to him.”

Karina’s words successfully shut you up, and you sink back into the chair. “Okay. Maybe I like him. A little bit. But it’s never going to work out,” you whine.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends, and he- how can I like a boy who spends more time looking at his gaming computer than me?”

“Most boys like gaming. Jeno’s the exact same, if you haven’t realised,” Karina retorts, and you reflexively turn your head to the other table, where the middle linebacker sits. Contrary to his intimidating exterior, the boy is surprisingly nice, and a good boyfriend to Karina. You’ve never seen her happier, except for the day when they became an official couple. But no matter.

“He likes physics, Karina. Physics. The boy tried to give me a lecture on thermodynamics. What part of that is attractive to you?”

She winces at that, and you bask in the momentary feeling of victory, before Ningning interjects. “Opposites attract. You’re an arts student, and he’s in science. A match made in heaven. You’re just scared you’ll get rejected, won’t you?”

And as always, Ningning hits the nail on the head directly. The fear of rejection feels all too real, especially when you know that Donghyuck has barely even shown an ounce of interest in anything romantic with anyone, let alone you, the girl who’s been his best friend for close to a decade.

You’re sure that he cares for you, but all and any affection he feels is strictly delineated within the insurmountable boundaries of platonic friendship.

You’re silent, staring off blankly into space until someone settles next to you. Giselle, youngest member of the cheer team but scarily good at tumbling, enough for you to take one look at her and sign her acceptance slip. She warmed up to you quickly after the both of you had been paired up for a group project, and the girl’s quick to notice the sombre atmosphere in the air.

“Boy problems?” She asks, looking at Karina, who nods, angling her chin towards you. “Let me guess - you like Donghyuck but you don’t think he reciprocates your feelings,” she states, and your dejection is briefly replaced by incredulity. “How did you know?”

“You’re terribly obvious, Y/N. There’s only one boy in your life - consider the fact that you’ve completely ignored the advances of half of the guys on the rugby team?”

“They don’t make any advances,” you mutter. Sure, Minhyung may have lent you that one umbrella, and Yangyang’s always asking for your notes in History, but that doesn’t mean anything.

“That’s because everyone quickly gave up after seeing you and Donghyuck,” Giselle explains, and you run a hand through your hair, before regretting it slightly when you realise it’s likely messed up the styling that you had done.

“I just- I swear I didn’t feel anything for him like three months ago. But there was that one time he sneaked into my class to take notes because I had a headache, and also he’s just so-”

“So?” Ningning leans over, waiting for you to finish the sentence, and you close your eyes in embarrassment out of what you’re about to say.

“-attractive. He’s so attractive,” you confess, watching as Karina bites back a laugh. You’re not entirely sure when exactly Donghyuck started taking a specific interest in fashion, figuring out more ways to style his hair than simply letting it fall over his glasses.

“I guess, for a physics nerd, he is cute,” she acquiesces, and you sit up indignantly. “He’s not a nerd! Do you know he can play the drums? And he’s really good at singing.”

Karina leans back reflexively at your outburst, mischief glinting in her eyes as you sink back down. “This is so embarrassing,” you whine, letting out a groan of anguish as Ningning looks on sympathetically.

At your forlorn expression, the youngest cheerleader turns to you and grabs your hands in hers, like some sort of messiah.

“Do you trust me?” Giselle asks, and you nod hesitantly, even though you can’t help but feel like you’re being led into some sort of trap.

“I’ve seen this work hundreds of times. If you do this, I promise Lee Donghyuck will be in love with you by the time winter break rolls around,” she promises, and you suck in a breath at the prospect of it, of getting Donghyuck to see you in a light that isn’t friendship.

Winter break. That’s six months away, which is a little under two hundred days. Barely a fraction of the time you’ve known Donghyuck, but it’ll have to count. “What do I have to do?” You ask, and Giselle grins, her smile reminding you a bit of a comic villain.

“Just three things. Simple, really.”

#1 LEARN ABOUT HIS INTERESTS (PREFERABLY FROM HIM)

The first one is easy. You know Donghyuck’s likes and dislikes from memory, from his personal preferences to the things that make him uncomfortable. He’s easy to please in terms of music, though he gravitates more towards smooth, sultry vocals compared to your playlists of upbeat pop. With regards to food, he’s especially nice to you when you buy him chocolate biscuit snacks, and the only thing he can’t tolerate is celery.

His favourite subjects? Physics and math, though if he had to pick an arts, it would be music. His hobbies include singing, gaming and playing the drums, which he somehow manages to fit in despite the already jam-packed schedule that makes up his life.

When you had duly recited that to Giselle, she hadn’t been sure whether to be concerned or impressed. But she wanted you to take it a step up, which was why you were now in Donghyuck’s room on a Sunday afternoon, arms crossed as he stares back at you.

“What the fuck?”

“Why not?”

Donghyuck shakes his bangs away from the sides of his face, before frowning. “You’re literally the last person I would expect to have a remote interest in Overwatch.”

He’s right, but you ignore that. “I’m…trying new things,” you excuse, watching as he wrinkles his nose slightly before shrugging. “Sure. Sit over there,” he instructs, pointing to the gaming chair. It’s comfortable against your back, and you’re starting to understand why he’s able to spend hours cooped up in his room during holidays.

Donghyuck’s desk is surprisingly organised, besides the empty coffee can abandoned beside the keyboard. Lying in a corner are his files and schoolwork, while the stationery sits on a shelf above. If you force your eyes upwards, you’ll land on a familiar photo frame - one that quickly elicits a smile.

There’s a large Ferris wheel in the background, and right in front, two small children. You’re holding a stick of cotton candy that’s larger than your face, while Donghyuck has one arm around your shoulder and the other grasping onto a teddy bear.

He had won that for you with his pocket money in second grade, and the same bear still sits in your wardrobe, albeit a little dustier. It’s not like you don’t have plenty of other photos as well. There are the ones from Donghyuck’s performances when he was in the school band, and those of you and him during your first cheer competition.

Donghyuck’s there, on every page of your life, like a watermark. Feelings aside, you’re not quite sure what you would do without him.

Your thoughts are disrupted, however, by him leaning over to set up the computer. Donghyuck’s eyes are focused on the screen, and it’s likely why he hasn’t realised how close you are to him. From where you’re sitting, it’s the perfect vantage point to observe Donghyuck’s side profile, lit aglow by the brightness of the screen.

You hate the way your heartbeat speeds up involuntarily, gaze lingering on his jawline and the freckles that dot his cheeks. They always return during summer, only to fade away once the weather turns colder.

The realisation that you find your best friend ridiculously attractive is hitting you straight in the face, and it’s terrifying.

An hour later, you’re sitting on Donghyuck’s bed, gaming console in hand. You’ve established Overwatch as a fruitless venture, and the boy in question looks down at you, amused. “That was only two games. Do you want to try League?”

You shake your head vehemently in resistance, slotting in the game disc to prove your point. He looks as if he’s not quite sure what to do with you, only moving towards his desk to bring a few snacks over.

“I’ve only ever seen you play Overcooked,” he points out, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because it’s the only one I’m good at.”

However, when you take into account the amount of time that you’ve been playing Overcooked, the achievement diminishes. When you first started, Donghyuck would be the only one helping to clear the first few levels, while your goal was simply to not get in the way.

Now, you’re able to keep up with him decently, though he still gets a much higher score in individual matches.

Donghyuck lets out an exasperated huff, but there’s a smile on his face. “I appreciate it, you know,” he says softly, and you turn your head. “What?”

“Overwatch. I know you wanted to try for me,” he says, and you let out a groan, before sinking into the pillow behind you. Of course he’s figured you out. You suppose you should have planned it better, considering the number of times you’ve complained about having to wait for him to finish his games. “At least I know I’m never going to play it ever again.”

Your voice comes out muffled from beneath the blanket, and you miss the way Donghyuck’s eyes cloud over with fondness as he looks at you. “It’s okay. You’re still my best friend, even if you can’t get three star-rankings on your own- ouch.”

He lets out a grunt of pain as you land a well-aimed elbow in his ribs, placing a hand over his stomach and collapsing onto the bed. “You’re so dramatic,” you complain, pushing him off from where he’s half-sprawled over you.

“You’re so mean to me. I still love you though,” he mutters, pinching your left cheek gently with his free hand. You try your best to not make your expression too plain on your face. “Love you too, I guess,” you say, though it comes out more as an incoherent mumble, eyes looking anywhere but at him.

#2 MORE TIME SPENT TOGETHER IS BETTER THAN NONE

You’re not sure how much more you can fulfil task #2, considering the only times you aren’t with Donghyuck are when you’re in class, at practice, or sleeping. But Ningning is quick to denounce your claims during the break, when all of you are sprawled on the gymnasium floor.

“Best-friend activities don’t count, Y/N. You need to go on dates. Things that can be seen in the context of romance,” she clarifies, and you lie back down, exhausted.

It seems having to manage your feelings for Donghyuck while attempting to woo him is quickly becoming a full-time commitment.

You let out a sigh, getting back up once the coach calls to start.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You did, in fact, do an extraordinary amount of planning.

The autumn festival holiday was around the corner, which meant a few different things. The most important one being that student council went on a break, leaving Donghyuck with precious spare time to rest.

Unfortunately, he was not going to have those three days completely undisturbed, thanks to you.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Donghyuck comments as he follows behind you, hands tucked into his coat. You grin slightly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “We’re almost there. Just be patient.”

However, when the both of you round the corner, you immediately see Donghyuck skid to a halt. “Oh no. Definitely not.”

He’s staring at the ice skating rink with a mixture of fear and apprehension, and you let out a laugh.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to try this?” you ask, and he whips his head towards you. “I meant it as a joke. You know I can’t ice skate,” he mumbles nervously, rubbing at the back of his head, and you grab onto the sleeve of Donghyuck’s jacket, pulling him along despite his complaints.

Despite his reluctance, the both of you are quickly on the ice, skates securely strapped to your feet.

It’s a petty sort of consolation to know that Donghyuck isn’t perfect. It’s even worse, however, to know that despite his inclinations to annoy you to death and steal your food, you still have the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him.

You skate up behind him, pausing to observe the boy step carefully over the ice. His posture reminds you a bit of a duckling, and you have to hold back a laugh. Despite how clumsy his movements are, you can’t help but find them endearing.

“Need help?” You ask once you’re next to him, and Donghyuck grumbles slightly before nodding and extending his hands. “It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it. Try not to walk on the ice. It’ll just make you more unsteady.”

There’s a warm feeling of pride that floods you when you see your best friend attempt to take the advice dutifully, gradually getting closer to gliding on the ice. You try not to focus too much on how his fingers are interlaced tightly with yours, palm fitting perfectly in your grasp.

“I think I’ve got it,” he says after a while. There’s a cocky grin plastered on his face as he looks at you, and you scoff slightly. “Why are you still holding on to my hand then?”

His gaze darts down abruptly as if suddenly realizing that his fingers are still interlocked with yours.

“For security,” he replies teasingly, the corners of his lips tilted up.

You try not to make your bewilderment too obvious at his response. Donghyuck teases you plenty, but you’re not sure whether this crosses into the realm of flirting, except for the fact that it leaves your heartbeat unsteady.

“You’re really flushed. Are you okay?” He pauses when he realises you’re not following behind him, eyes warm with concern.

You paste a shaky smile on your face. “I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, but you’re hoping he’ll let it pass. The boy in front of you seems to pause in thought for a moment, before looping his arm through yours and pulling you out of the rink. “Wait, but our slot isn’t done yet-”

Donghyuck doesn’t reply you, too busy shrugging off his denim jacket as you stare at him in confusion. “There’s only ten minutes left anyways. We can go get hot chocolate,” he suggests.

“Also, wear this,” he mutters, and you feel something warm draped over your shoulders. Donghyuck’s jacket is a little too big on you, but it’s comfortable, with the faint cottony smell that you’ve grown to identify with him. “Thanks,” you mumble softly, your own voice tuned out by the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.

You’re so fucked.

When Donghyuck first met Zhong Chenle, he thought he was going to go deaf. It was like the boy was constantly speaking out of a megaphone from his sheer volume.

He once told Chenle that he heard him more than he saw him. The boy had only responded with another ear-splitting laugh. But Donghyuck still enjoys having him around, for the main reason that Chenle’s the only one capable of co-opting with him and not being complete dead weight - Jisung’s pretty hopeless, and Jaemin’s often too tired from training to log on.

“Donghyuck. Do you want food?”

He had given up on getting Chenle to use honorifics a long time ago, the boy either excusing it with the fact that he was foreign, or that Donghyuck acted like he was younger anyways.

“Let’s get Chinese takeout. Loser pays,” he replies, and Chenle immediately nods in assent, switching his mode over to single-player.

It doesn’t take long for the ‘game over’ screen to flash up at Donghyuck, and he flings his controller to the side, Chenle turning around with a smug grin on his face.

“Don’t sulk,” he scolds, pinching Donghyuck in the side, who currently has his face buried in the pillow. “I’m not sulking. I just can’t believe I lost to a seventeen-year-old,” he grumbles, before fishing out his wallet and passing it to Chenle.

It’s not the first time he’s lost - the score is pretty even between them, and no one’s keeping tally, but Donghyuck just likes to be dramatic. He thinks it’s one of his talents, the innate quality of over-emphasising every small thing to draw a reaction out of anyone.

And of course, his favourite person to pester is you. Chenle’s in second place, but that’s because the boy sometimes annoys him even more in retaliation. You’re not capable of annoying Donghyuck even if you tried, because he’s used to every tendency of yours. You only whine when you’re tired or embarrassed, and even that’s more cute than exhausting.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”

Donghyuck remains silent, but a nod of his head indicates for Chenle to continue.

“Is it true that everyone gets together in senior year?” he asks, and Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows, considering the question. He supposes there’s Jeno and Karina, Giselle and Yangyang, and in the previous year there was Hyunsuk and Haeun-

“Oh. I guess so? Plenty of people at least.”

“What about you, then?”

What about him? Donghyuck wondered for a brief moment, but the answer wasn’t hard to figure out. He liked you, but he was too much of a coward to ever say anything, because all the words seemed to get stuck in his throat whenever he tried to open his mouth.

“Oh. Not everyone, I guess,” he realizes, and Chenle scoffs. “Is it because no one likes you?”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise in annoyance. “I’ll have you know people like me plenty,” he retorts, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy, who only grins even wider.

“Like Y/N?”

“You- how do you know?” Donghyuck thinks this might be the first time Chenle’s ever caught him off guard, the boy’s eyes betraying a certain sense of mischief.

But Chenle avoids his question, instead leaning his head down until it’s hanging off the bed, his eyes staring intently at Donghyuck. “Have you confessed?”

At the boy’s silence, he hums in conclusion. “I guess not. You know, if you even want to stand a chance, you should do it now.”

Donghyuck stiffens at his words. “What do you mean?”

“There are so many more guys at university. And if anything, Y/N’s going to be one of the most popular people there.”

He knows that. For God’s sake, Donghyuck is the best example of the magnetic effect you have on others.

But he was the first. That has to count for something. “It’s fine,” he mutters doubtfully. “It’s not like she hasn’t received confessions before.”

Ha Sungwoon in freshman year, who wrote you a love letter and placed it in your locker. Kim Youngjae from the tuition academy, who was your deskmate for three terms during the summer holidays. And just last year, Kang Taebin, a guy two years older who was a fellow part-timer. Donghyuck had called him a creep three minutes after you had called to tell him about the confession you received, and you had simply laughed before assuring him that it was a rejection on your end.

He remembers each of them clearly, like little pegs on a post arranged chronologically right on top of one another.

And right at the bottom, Lee Donghyuck, who started feeling butterflies in his stomach at the sight of you when he was fifteen but was too scared to admit it until two years later.

“Maybe she’s waiting to date in university. What are you going to do if she actually gets a boyfriend?”

“Be happy for her?” The way Donghyuck’s voice lifts at the end makes it sound like a question, reflective of the confusion he feels swirling in his heart.

It only takes a few seconds for him to realise the idea of having you date someone else causes his mood to dampen considerably, and from the way Chenle purses his mouth, he doesn’t believe Donghyuck either.

But Donghyuck’s only known how to be your best friend, not anything more or anything less.

Yet, if you have to make time for a boyfriend - he feels himself seize with panic at the idea of possibly drifting away from you, of having to make way for another stranger, for another man to love and know you more than he does.

In an ideal world, Donghyuck would move with you to a little island where there was no one else, the kind that both of you promised each other when you were kids. But that’s not how real life works, and he’s starting to realise that the chances he has are running out as quickly as the time left in the year.

Chenle seems to fall silent, watching the minute shift in expressions on Donghyuck’s face, and the latter suddenly feels too vulnerable, too seen. He shoves Chenle’s shoulder - gently, but enough to regain some control over his free-running emotions and inject some confidence into his voice.

“What do you know, anyways? You’re just a kid,” Donghyuck says, looking towards his phone gratefully when it lights up with a notification.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he sighs out. “I’m going to get the food.”

But as he walks down the long hallway towards Chenle’s door, the marble floor cold against his bare feet, Donghyuck finally admits to himself that the younger boy is dead right.

At this point, you feel like Karina and Ningning might be more invested in your love life than you are. With the newest addition of Giselle, it’s like they’ve renewed their passion in finding ways to help you.

“So? How was the date?”

Giselle looks over at you expectantly from where she’s seated in the booth. The four of you are in a mall, and you’re starting to regret having agreed to go out. It was an invitation to be interrogated on your progress (or lack thereof) with Donghyuck. “He fell,” you mutter.

“For you?”

“No. On the ice.”

You hear Ningning’s exasperated sigh before you see her face. She looks like she’s about to commit murder, and you smile, albeit apologetically. “He gave me his jacket. And bought me hot chocolate.”

Karina lets out an encouraging hum. ‘That’s good…isn’t it?” You shrug, more nonchalant than disappointed. “I’m not sure. He’s definitely being nicer, but it’s still no indication. It’s probably just because I paid for the tickets,” you reply.

There’s a collective silence that descends over the table when your food comes, only broken when the heaping bowls of pasta are cleared halfway.

“Then I think we should go for the third tactic. It’ll be harder, though,” Giselle says, a sharp sort of conviction in her voice as she gazes at you. “What is it?” Ningning asks, and the brown-haired girl smiles proudly.

“Na Jaemin.”

Ah, Na Jaemin.

Where should you start?

If perfection exists in a person, Na Jaemin just might be the closest thing to it. The star quarterback is the school’s pride and joy, and you’re quite sure he already has multiple full-ride scholarships secured.

And unfortunately, unlike the cliches, he’s one of the sweetest people in the level, with a smile bright enough to light up any room. Sure, Jaemin might occasionally borrow your homework to copy, but he always makes it up by sending over lecture notes and iced coffee. The both of you are almost like colleagues, considering you’re there to cheer at each of his games and have seen every single touchdown he’s made.

Now, the athlete is sitting in front of you, a Starbucks cup in hand. His drink is a concerning shade of dark brown, almost black, and you’re too scared to ask him what it is.

“How did Giselle convince you to do this?”

“She didn’t have to. I thought it would be fun. Besides, Donghyuck’s a cool guy,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes.

Giselle nods encouragingly. “See? It’ll be a great idea.”

The way she and Jaemin are looking at you makes you feel like you’re the crazy one for doubting the plausibility of the idea.

“It’s the oldest trick in the book, Y/N,” she comforts, and you exhale hesitantly, before nodding.

#3 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER AND CUPID ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT

It’s a yearly occurrence at this point, but that doesn’t mean you don’t partake in it either. People flooding to the atrium of the school, towards the large corkboard with its neat rows of printed black text. There are some who are jumping excitedly, others…not so excited.

At least the waterworks haven’t begun, which is always a good sign. You’re scanning the board until you find your name, the number next to it eliciting a soft sigh of relief.

The top thirty of the level. Decent enough to keep your parents happy, even if they’ll definitely ask you how Donghyuck did.

His name is printed in glossy letters right near the top. Second place is every student’s dream, but he’ll probably complain about it to you later. Both he and Renjun have been fighting tooth-and-nail this year for first place, even if they’re technically good friends.

It’s only when you’re at your locker that he appears, backpack slung over his shoulder. “I saw your rankings. You did well.” There’s a glimmer of pride on his face, so genuine that it causes your heart to flutter imperceptibly.

Despite his perfect grades and records, Donghyuck’s never made you feel less than him. Instead, he’s the one who’s waiting for you after every performance, and spending countless afternoons tutoring you in the library. “Thank you,” you say softly.

“By the way, the autumn fair is this weekend. We should celebrate,” he suggests, and your heart stops for a moment. This is it.

You inhale nervously, before looking at Donghyuck. “Actually…”

“If you can’t make it because of practice, that’s okay-”

“I’m going with Jaemin.”

Donghyuck falls quiet at your admission, and you almost wish you had bitten your tongue. His jovial expression looks slightly dimmer now, as he throws a glance at you.

“Na Jaemin? Suddenly?” The tone feels almost accusatory, and you bristle slightly. “Yeah. He asked me. Sorry,” you breathe out, watching Donghyuck carefully as a thousand emotions pass over his face before it returns to careful neutrality.

“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you next week then,” he replies, voice clipped, before turning on his heel.

“Wait! Donghyuck!”

You immediately rush after him, and the boy pauses for a few precious seconds, glancing at you hopefully.

”Aren’t we going for lunch?” You ask, and his shoulders sink back down, as if disappointed. The expression in his eyes is unreadable for once as he gazes at you. “I forgot I had a council meeting. You can go ahead,” he excuses, not waiting for your response before rushing out of your sight.

There’s a pang in your heart at Donghyuck’s cold tone, and you’re starting to wonder if Giselle’s plan is backfiring terribly as he walks further and further down the hallway, without sparing you a glance.

Maybe you’re overreacting. He’s likely stressed by the upcoming end-year projects that the council is planning, along with today’s results. This barely means anything compared to the arguments the both of you have had, the ones where you angrily refuse to read his texts until the boy pesters you into relenting.

Yet, why does it feel like the end?

Once in a while, Donghyuck has a terrible day. And it’s not just a little bad - like forgetting his umbrella during a downpour, or having all his pen nibs snap on the day of an important exam.

Though those things have happened before, and are particularly vexing, they don’t cause him to lose his nerve, mainly because you always share your umbrella with him and keep spare pens in a box in your locker.

He supposes he shouldn’t complain - one terrible day out of a hundred good ones is pretty decent, and Donghyuck supposes he has his naturally positive outlook to thank for that.

But this might just go down in the books as being the worst day of his life.

His argument with you has dampened his mood considerably, so much that even Renjun noticed in between lessons, nudging Donghyuck when he had failed to hear the teacher call his name.

He supposes he shouldn’t be too upset about it - in the big scheme of things, you going with Jaemin to the autumn fair isn’t something of vital importance. It’s not like you told Donghyuck you’ve decided to date the guy, or that you have a crush on him.

And as someone who takes a science elective, he supposes he should know that nothing should be concluded without proper, repeated results, and that there are too many variables in any experiment that can be changed, much less when it comes to you and Jaemin.

But Jaemin’s not rude like Sungwoon, arrogant like Youngjae, or weird like Taebin - he’s cheerful, volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends, and is the pride and joy of your school’s rugby team. He’s also ridiculously good at Overwatch, which is bizarre considering he only plays whenever Donghyuck convinces him to go online.

He’s Donghyuck’s friend, and a good person. If anything, he should be giving the stamp of approval, perhaps even encouraging because there’s no one else who deserves you.

There’s only one problem - himself. Lee Donghyuck, the independent variable.

Fuck research protocol. He’ll employ whatever methodology he needs if it means you choose him over Jaemin.

“Fuck research protocol,” he mutters, earning a concerned look from his deskmate. “I sure hope that’s a joke. Our lab practical is next week,” Renjun replies, peeling a label and pasting it carefully on the test tube.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “That was a simile,” he explains.

“You mean a metaphor?”

Fuck. Perhaps he didn’t retain the lecture you gave him on literary devices as well as he thought he did.

Donghyuck’s suddenly reminded by the fact that Jaemin’s also a Literature student, which means he definitely knows the difference between a simile and a metaphor, and won’t bore you with explanations of conservation laws.

It also means that Jaemin can definitely understand Little Women on the first try, and doesn’t need to Sparknote it beforehand to discuss with you - and Donghyuck can’t deny that he’s just mildly horrified at the idea of you letting someone else watch the movie with you, one of the cornerstones of your movie nights.

To be fair, Donghyuck’s made his friends watch The Conjuring - but that’s not even the same thing. There’s absolutely nothing romantic about him getting scared half out of his wits after Renjun and Jeno pour fake blood all over the bathroom mirror, but what if you see Laurie dancing with Jo and deciding you want some of that for yourself?

Donghyuck should be there when that happens. Not anyone else, and most definitely not Na Jaemin.

But with the way he shook you off this morning - a pang of crushing guilt floods him, and Donghyuck has the urge to kick himself, just for how stupid he’s been. If anything, he's only pushed you further away.

He realises he never did reply Renjun’s question when the boy waves his hand in front of his face. “Oh. Yeah. A metaphor. Whatever,” he says cursorily, watching as Renjun stares at him as if he’s grown another head.

He’s starting to think it might be better if he did, just to figure out the puzzle of his own heart.

It’s only when you miss the step for the third time that Karina walks towards you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all afternoon,” she comments, a concerned look in her eyes.

You nod after a moment, signalling for the rest of the cheerleaders to take a break. Your position as captain means that you’re responsible for directing most of the practices, but how are you going to monitor a routine if you keep messing up the steps yourself?

Unfortunately, you can’t seem to take your mind off Donghyuck, and how he hasn’t replied to your texts since the afternoon. You’ve offered to get him snacks after council, and yet, radio silence.

It’s not abnormal for him to forget to check his phone, but with every second that passes, the uneasiness in your stomach just becomes heavier. You wonder if he’s that angry over your change of plans for Jaemin, and whether it might be better to just ditch the entire plan.

Fuck your feelings. You want your best friend back, and you’d rather have Donghyuck’s friendship than a cold shoulder.

However, Karina’s still staring at you, so you tear yourself away from thoughts of him, refocusing on the scene in front of you.

“Let’s do stunts!” You instruct, cupping your hands over your mouth to emphasise your volume. You’re grateful it doesn’t come out shaky and betray the emotional turmoil you’re going through, watching as everyone lines up in their typical groups, clearing the mat space for tumbling.

It’s one of your favourite things in the world, the feeling of soaring briefly in the air before your feet land on solid ground, and it’ll be a welcome distraction from the boy who takes up too much space in your heart and mind.

Karina always leads the first round, and this time is no different. You suck in a deep breath, before taking a running leap and relishing the thrill of momentarily being a full 180 degrees in the air, as if you’re floating. But there’s still a dull ache in your heart that refuses to leave, even as you prep for the second part of the stunt.

You realise you’ve messed up a moment too early, before it happens. You’re not even sure when distraction had gripped at you, suddenly realising the angle at which you’re landing is strangely off. There’s fear that shoots through you, cold and unrelenting, but it only allows you a few seconds of panic.

A grunt of pain leaves you the moment your foot lands wrongly, the concerned shouts of the other girls echoing in the background. Your body collapses to the ground, hands narrowly stopping you from falling flat on your face.

You can only be grateful that you haven’t heard a crack, but the sharp ache that shoots up tells you that something is definitely injured.

You hear the rush of footsteps before Karina immediately crouches next to you, an arm under your shoulder. “Can you walk?” she asks, and you grit your teeth before nodding. Her voice is calm, but you can still detect the undercurrent of panic poking through. It’s likely a sprain, which hopefully means you’ll just have to rest.

Not your first injury, but it still hurts like a bitch.

You try your best to smile at the rest of the team as she helps you hobble towards the gymnasium entrance, but it’s a poor attempt at comfort. But being in charge means that it’s your job to worry, not theirs.

It feels like an eternity as you make the slow hobble towards the nurse’s office, Karina on one side and Ningning at the other. Even as the throbbing pain of your ankle causes to let out an occasional wince, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratefulness for the two girls beside you.

You allow yourself to lean back once you’re carefully placed on the bed, the nurse carefully looking at your foot. “It’s an ankle sprain. You’ll be up in two weeks, but you should be careful for the next month.”

Her words cause you to let out a sigh of relief. There’s two more months to the performance. A tight fit, but you’ll make it.

“The both of you should go back to practice,” you tell Karina and Ningning while the nurse wraps your foot in bandages. Karina clucks in disapproval. “How can we? You’re injured.”

Her evident concern causes you to chuckle slightly. “I’ll be fine. The others are probably wondering what happened. Don’t worry,” you assure, and her face softens slightly.

“Okay. We’ll make sure everything goes well, so just focus on recovering, okay?”

You nod obediently at Karina’s request, and she ruffles your hair affectionately before following Ningning out.

The moment the both of them leave, you let yourself sink back into the pillow and close your eyes in hopes of rest. On record, this might be one of the worst days you’ve had this year. You hear footsteps thud into the room, and assume it’s the nurse moving around.

You sure hope it isn’t another injured student, considering you’d rather not have anyone see you wallow in self-pity.

Until a familiar figure steps behind the curtain, and your heart sinks even further.

“Hey.”

Donghyuck’s standing in front of you, hands tucked into the pockets of his school blazer. His shirt is slightly rumpled, tie pulled out, and he looks like he’s been running. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he crosses the distance towards the bed you’re lying on, settling in the wobbly plastic chair next to the bed.

“Why are you here?” He flinches at your question, and you wonder if he can hear the tremor in your words.

“Does your foot hurt?” He shoots back with another question, and you whip your head to face him sharply.

“I sprained it. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Honestly, Y/N, you should be more careful-”

“Well, how was I supposed to feel when you didn’t reply to my messages-”

“Are you blaming me for your sprained foot?” Donghyuck asks incredulously, eyes wide as he stares at you, willing you to fall silent. He runs a hand haphazardly through his hair, and you’ve never seen him this agitated.

“Fuck, this wasn’t how I wanted it to go. Renjun said- never mind.” His voice is resigned, and the dejected tone causes your shoulders to sink and the fight to leave you. “You know I’m not blaming you,” you mutter softly, and he sinks down in the chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he nods.

There’s more that Donghyuck wants to say. You can tell by the way he swallows nervously, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he thrums his fingers nervously on his lap. “I just- it’s been a weird day, and I took it out on you because I was looking forward to the fair,” he admits.

It’s as close to an apology that someone like him can give, and you can tell the boy’s truly remorseful. Donghyuck’s someone who lives easily without regrets, who says and does the things that he wants. The confidence he possesses is something to be admired, but it also means that sometimes you get hurt.

But no matter what, he’s still your best friend, and the one that you’ll trust with anything.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” you mumble softly, watching as his eyes become less dejected and fill with an unfamiliar sort of fondness, one that tugs painfully at your heartstrings. You bring your hand down from where it’s resting on your lap, breath hitching when Donghyuck doesn’t wait to intertwine his fingers with yours. When he lifts his head to look up at you again, his gaze is heavy with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, Y/N. We both have our own friends too, and I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything you want to do,” he replies honestly, and you look at him, a stricken expression on your face.

How do you tell Donghyuck that you wish he would care? About who you go out with, or that you wish he would tell you that he doesn’t want you to go with Jaemin, but with him instead?

You would gladly let him hold you back, to cross the line dividing friendship and the heady rush of attraction that you felt every single time you looked at him.

“We can go together instead. I didn’t even confirm plans with Jaemin,” you quickly clarify, looking at him hopefully. You know that the boy wouldn’t mind if you cancelled, considering the very reason behind it. But there’s a mournful smile that makes its way onto Donghyuck’s face, strangely pensive as he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. Jaemin’s nice. You should have fun. I can just go with Renjun or Jeno,” he says, and you’re left helpless in the face of his kind rejection. “What did the doctor say? Is the pain better?”

His abrupt change of topic dispels the awkward atmosphere, and you understand that the rather sensitive topic of Jaemin will be shelved for now.

“It’ll recover in time, but it still hurts,” you complain, and Donghyuck tilts his head sympathetically, but flicks your forehead nevertheless. His previous concern is gone, replaced more with anger. But you don’t mind, because you know it comes from a place of care, even if he’s scolding you. “Be more careful next time. I don’t want you to get injured.”

The firm tone of his voice makes you sink back into the pillow, nodding obediently. Until Donghyuck grabs your hand, causing you to jerk slightly in shock.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re precious to many people.”

What about you? Am I precious to you? Is the question on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it quickly. “Okay. I promise,” you reply, and he smiles contentedly, the kind that makes his left dimple peek through.

“Na Jaemin, if you kick me one more time, I’ll tell Chenle you were the one who spilled water on his computer,” Karina threatens, narrowing her eyes at the black-haired boy. “It was an accident!” he defends, looking towards you for support.

“Y/N? You good?” You jerk up at the mention of your name, realising that Jeno, Karina and Jaemin are all looking at you. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble, taking a big bite of the pumpkin pie that sits in front of you.

It’s supposed to be your favourite, but the puree tastes like sand in your mouth. Karina takes one look at your glum expression, and stands up, not so gently pulling Jeno along with her. “Come on. Let’s go try some games,” she suggests in an effort to perk you up, and you nod in agreement, trying to put on a wobbly grin on your face to appreciate her efforts.

Even then, Karina’s quick to run off with Jeno, and a genuine smile makes its way onto your face when you watch him tease her for failing to get the ball into the hoop. They’re adorable, the kind of couple that lasts even after graduation.

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

Jaemin looks over at your question, his fleece jacket tucked snugly around his shoulders. “No. But looking at you, it doesn’t seem to be that great.”

“Thanks,” you mutter dryly, watching as he grins, pearly-whites poking through. “Just kidding. You and Donghyuck are perfect for each other.”

Despite everything that has happened, it feels nice to have Jaemin’s vote of confidence, even as you teeter unsurely in your relationship with Donghyuck.

“You know, as much as I agree with Giselle’s ideas, I think you should try something different,” Jaemin says, out of the blue, and you cast a doubtful glance. There are people walking past the both of you, an even mix of students and adults. Yet, each time you search for Donghyuck in the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.

Even after your injury, the both of you had fallen into your natural rhythm effortlessly, Donghyuck still cracking jokes and you responding with laughter. You still ran down to the record store when he needed help, listening to some tracks and providing what feedback you could, and he still left you convenience store bags after practice, sometimes accompanied by extra snacks for Karina and Ningning as well.

Except that nowadays, your heart felt like it was constantly about to burst out of your chest, and you always felt your cheeks warm whenever Donghyuck got a little too close. It didn’t help that he was naturally affectionate, something that you enjoyed and hated in equal measure.

Enjoyed because it meant that he didn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a hug each time he saw you, or hold your hand and pull you to walk on the inside of the pavement. Hated because you were now hypersensitive to each time the both of you had any contact, freezing up whenever he leaned his head onto your shoulder or looped an arm around your waist.

A simple action of his was enough to make your heart flutter, and as much as nothing between you and Donghyuck had changed, your feelings were getting harder and harder to hide each day.

You only realise a few moments later that Jaemin’s still waiting for your reply.

“Honestly? I’m kind of tired of trying. If it happens, it’ll happen,” you sigh out.

At this point, the lines between what you can do as a friend and what’s romantic have blurred so much, especially with someone like Donghyuck. He’s held you when you cried over injuries, and looped his arm between yours when the both of you went on trips to the city. He’s seen you at your ugliest and your best, and you would like to think that if he had an inkling of attraction towards you, there would have been an indication.

Jaemin takes one look at the dejected expression on your face, and half-hugs you in an attempt at comfort. “It’ll be fine. If it helps, you can look forward to the game. Boys are overrated.”

“You’re saying that yourself?”

He nods, keeping his face as serious as he can before the corners of his lips tilt up, betraying a smile.

“Don’t tell Karina, but you’re my favourite cheerleader,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you laugh despite the heaviness in your chest.

You wonder if Donghyuck has a favourite cheerleader too.

Considering how you’ve been part of the team since freshman year, you should feel less nervous. However, there’s still a teeming anxiety that pervades you as you pace around your bedroom. The uniform is already on the bed, your makeup bag shoved into the corner - but you’re still wondering if you’ve forgotten something.

Until your phone buzzes, and you hold it on speaker as you rifle through your closet for an extra pair of socks.

“I’ve seen you walking around your room since afternoon. Need any help?” Donghyuck’s voice filters through the speaker with its characteristic warmth, and you shake your head reflexively, knowing that he can see it from where he’s leaning out over his balcony.

A benefit of being neighbours - he’s never really further than a phone call away.

“I think I’m just nervous because it’s the last game of the season. And I haven’t gotten to practice as much because of the injury.” Your eyes drift to the brace sitting abandoned in the corner of your room, a reminder of the mistake that you’d prefer not to make again.

Donghyuck hums sympathetically, and you know that he understands, considering this happens before most of your performances, unless you’re feeling exceptionally confident.

“Want to go out for boba? My treat,” he promises, and you smile at his attempt to help.

You can already hear him moving around his room, packing up his things, and it causes warmth to surge in you, an affectionate feeling that is slowly becoming directly associated with him.

How are you supposed to get over Donghyuck if he consistently knows what you need? It’s like the boy specifically caters to everything that makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re quick to grab a jacket, pausing briefly to decide before your eyes land on a familiar denim one that’s much too big on you. It’s been your accessory of choice more often than not, until even Karina had noticed it during rehearsal.

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows slightly when you step down the driveway. He’s leaning against his car, ripped jeans tucked into his favourite pair of boots. It’s fascinating how starkly his personal clothing choice differs from what he wears to school, and you suppose the strict dress code has stifled his creativity in terms of outfits.

“That jacket looks familiar,” he points out, and you make a halfhearted attempt to shrug innocently. “It’s mine now.”

He lets out an amused huff at that, before motioning for you to get into the car. “You know, if you wanted more of my hoodies, you could have just asked,” he says, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches your cheeks redden.

“No one wants more of your hoodies. I’m doing this out of necessity,” you mutter, but Donghyuck knows you’re lying. He hasn’t seen you willingly wear a jacket since middle school, which is the main reason why you’ve worn so many of his, but the sight of his clothing draped over your shoulders fills him with a certain satisfaction, one that he can’t pinpoint.

“Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.”

Your head turns sharply at Donghyuck’s words, but his gaze remains fixed on the road, oblivious of the way your heartbeat speeds up in your chest. You wonder if he knows what effect he has on you, saying the things he does - and it seems to happen more often now, compliments slipping out here and there that make your eyes widen and a nervous laugh bubble out of your throat.

“Do you know that differentiation and integration aren’t even antonyms of each other?” You ask, balancing your chin on your hand as you look over at the boy sitting opposite you.

Donghyuck clicks his tongue disapprovingly, tapping your forehead gently with his pen. “Focus.”

“It doesn’t make any sense that they’re the opposites of each other in math-”

He looks up at you, a look of amused exasperation on his face as he stares you down. “I know you’re better than me in languages. But you’re the one who asked for help for your test, so solve these sums, and I’ll mark them,” he tells you, and your lips settle into a pout when you realise he means it.

“Fine,” you mutter, and a low chuckle escapes him at your defeated expression when you dip your head back down to look at the textbook in front of you.

There isn’t any further response from the boy, which is why you fill with alarm when he suddenly scoots over closer to you, head jerking upwards so quickly that your bangs fall into your face, temporarily obscuring your view.

“How are you going to see your worksheet if your hair’s always in your face?”

“You’re one to speak,” you retort, knowing full well that Donghyuck’s always protesting against cutting his hair, preferring when it’s longer. He pokes his tongue in his cheek out of annoyance, and your eyes immediately drift to the action.

“Stay still,” he mumbles, and your eyes widen inquisitively in confusion, right as he leans over, hand moving towards your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. You barely process the movement, only registering the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek before your stomach does a thousand backflips.

The action is sweet, even for him, and the gentleness of it makes your breath catch in your throat.

Donghyuck doesn’t pull his hand away, palm hovering beside your face even as he’s finished.

“Your hair’s soft,” he points out, and you can’t even deign to provide a response, too caught up in the rapid thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. He eventually sits back, eyes never leaving your face even as you stare at him, shell-shocked.

“Y/N. Y/N.” An insistent voice jerks you out of your thoughts, and you turn your head towards its source, only to be met with Donghyuck’s gaze. He must have been calling your name for a while, you realise, and you let out a cough that comes out more awkward than smooth.

There’s a cup of brown sugar milk tea in his hand - your favourite, and the sugar level at half, just the way you like it. It’s not anything special, but the fact that he remembers, and the way you know his is probably a taro milk tea with less ice, brings a smile to your face. “I thought I lost you there,” he says, and your smile turns sheepish. “Sorry. Drifted away for a second.”

He pokes the straw into the plastic, taking a quick sip. “About?”

“Hm?”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You.” The confession escapes your mouth before you can even halt it, brain short-circuiting as you realise what you’ve just said. Your throat seizes up, and you barely stop yourself from choking on your drink, the pearls making their way down uncomfortably.

“I mean- I just- I was thinking about how you were paying for the bubble tea- and how I should pay for your gas or something-” you sputter out a poor excuse, watching as Donghyuck begins to laugh, so hard that he holds on to his stomach.

You’re quite sure your cheeks are now pink with mortification, knowing full well that he can tell that you’re lying and you’ve completely, utterly embarrassed yourself in front of your best friend and the poor barista working the night shift behind the counter.

“It’s not like you haven’t treated me before,” he points out, picking up a napkin and placing it on your side, before his eyes narrow slightly with mischief. “But your first reply-” he moves closer, until you can see your own reflection in his eyes. “-what were you thinking? About me?”

His voice is smug as he says it, and you realise Donghyuck’s simply teasing you. It’s not the first time he’s jokingly flirted with you, but with the weight of your newfound feelings, you’re no longer sure how to respond.

Your mind is running at a mile a minute, before you finally settle on something. “Annoying.”

Donghyuck blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”

“I was thinking about how you’re annoying,” you bite out, letting out a relieved sigh when he sinks back into the chair, huffing petulantly.

“Is this because I stole your fries the other day?” He asks, feigning hurt, and you remain stone-faced as you look at him, nodding. “You also doodled little suns everywhere on my worksheet until Mr Kim made me redo it.”

“They were cute suns!”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

They were, but that’s beside the point. Crisis averted, you find it easier to joke around with Donghyuck, lips curving up as he looks at you, an indignant expression on his face.

You love the way he reacts to your dry, barely-there humor, a stark contrast from the way he smoothly interjects with quips and teasing. “Admit it. They were cute,” he demands, hands placed on the table for dramatic effect.

Your arms are crossed as you meet his gaze. “No.”

He huffs out in frustration, and you have to hold yourself back from cooing at how adorable he looks like this.

“I’m never buying you bubble tea again,” he mutters, and you grin slightly. “Sure.”

“You- never mind.” Your heart softens slightly at his forlorn expression, and you wonder if this is what it feels like to have the upper hand temporarily.

“I kept the worksheet, by the way,” you add, and he looks at you reluctantly, as if not yet deciding whether to listen or to ignore you.

“…What worksheet?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“The one you drew on. It’s still in my file.”

Your hint causes Donghyuck to sit back up hopefully. “You didn’t throw it away?” When you shake your head, he breaks out into a smile so bright that it reminds you a little of the doodled suns themselves.

“Does that mean you think they’re cute?” He follows up with another question eagerly, and you hum, as if deep in thought.

“Maybe.”

It’s just one word, but with the way Donghyuck is looking at you, it seems as if you’ve just told him he’s won the lottery.

You’d do anything to see him have that expression, you realise, unable to hide your grin now as he looks at you. If your friends were privy to your thoughts, they would have teased you for how in over your head you were.

Even if you could get over your crush on Donghyuck, you weren’t quite sure if you wanted to.

You’ve never told anyone, but the first person who you practised your makeup skills on wasn’t yourself.

It was Lee Donghyuck.

There’s definitely still a picture of him saved somewhere on your old phone, blusher carefully dusted on his cheeks and soft pink eyeshadow blended into a darker brown, complete with mascara and winged eyeliner. You had convinced him by promising to sponsor some of his in-game credits, and after a week of begging, the boy had finally sat himself down and allowed you free reign.

You hated how he had still looked good at the end of it, despite your novice skills. After that, you always used him for test makeup runs, until you finally grew confident enough to do it on your own.

Now, however, you’re standing in your bathroom anxiously, eyes darting to the time on your phone. Three hours before you have to leave for the stadium, and you’ve decided to test out your plan for makeup.

“I’m sure you look good,” Donghyuck assures through the phone, his voice muffled. However, you’re too nervous to focus on the compliment, nibbling at your lip.

“But I’ve never worn silver eyeshadow before! What if I just look washed out in the photos?”

“How about you take a picture now, and send it to me?”

“But my bathroom lighting is bad. Can’t you just come over now and take a look?” you plead, and Donghyuck lets out a soft groan of fatigue, causing you to wince apologetically. In all truth, you didn’t mean to wake him up at four in the morning. It just happens that Donghyuck is the only person you trust with things like these, and you find yourself needing his presence now more than ever.

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re thinking he might just hang up.

“Fine,” he agrees, and you almost let out a squeal of excitement, before realising your parents are likely still sleeping. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whisper into the phone, hearing him chuckle slightly.

“No problem. Now let me in. It’s cold.”

You don’t waste any time rushing towards the door, swinging it open for Donghyuck to come in. He looks at you, blinking tiredly at your bare face. “Where’s your makeup?”

“Oh. I haven’t done it yet. I just wanted to call you first.”

“Wake me up when you’re done, then,” he mumbles, following you into your room and promptly falling asleep on your bed, blanket tucked around him.

You stare at him for a while, mildly amazed at how fast the boy can sleep, before forcing yourself to get back to the task at hand.

It’s over an hour later when you finally trudge over to Donghyuck, hair styled as well.

“Donghyuck,” you call, poking at the boy to get him to wake up. Thankfully, he’s a lot faster this time, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes blearily.

“You’re done?” He asks, and you nod excitedly, before realising something and running back into the bathroom.

When you step back out, you’ve changed from your long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants into your cheer uniform, feeling slightly more confident about the way you look.

“Okay. I’m done. How is it?” You ask expectantly, waiting with bated breath as you step out, to face him directly.

For a long time, Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, and you look up from where your hands are brushing down your skirt, only to meet his heavy stare, that hasn’t left you even once. His eyes dart up to meet yours, catching on the silver eyeshadow that rests on your eyelids, to the gems carefully placed along the edges.

There’s a starstruck expression on his face, one that causes you to shift on your feet, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. Donghyuck’s sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you directly, knees brushing yours, and you laugh out of your nerves. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

He’s still looking up at you, until his gaze darts briefly to the side - you see Donghyuck swallow heavily, as if attempting to find the words to say.

Until he stands up abruptly, rising to his full height. The sudden movement causes you to stumble backwards, and despite his silence, Donghyuck instinctively wraps a hand around your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he mutters lowly, and your mind goes blank for a few seconds, nervousness clearing temporarily to make way for the fact that his face is inches away from yours.

You’re frantic for an entirely different reason now, quickly getting yourself upright to place some distance between the both of you. Donghyuck seems to regain his senses as well, clearing his throat.

“I told you I was right. It looks good,” he finally says, and you take a while to calm down the pace of your heartbeat. “Really?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N. You’ll do great. I mean it,” he assures, voice sincere as he cranes his neck down a little to better match your height, a soft smile on his face. The fluttering of your pulse returns with a vengeance, and you realise that Donghyuck’s hand hasn’t left your right hip, his warmth bleeding through the thin fabric.

At least the nerves about the performance have dissipated, entirely replaced by the dizzying rush that comes with being near Donghyuck.

As if on cue, your phone vibrates several times, lighting up with messages from what must be Karina and Ningning. Donghyuck’s eyes dart to it as well, and he grins slightly. “We should probably go,” he suggests, and you eventually find it in yourself to nod.

When he lets go of you, you try not to feel too disappointed.

Despite your more-than-distracting encounter with Donghyuck early in the morning, you’re quick to focus the moment you step into the waiting room.

“Two more minutes until we’re on the field!” At your alert, there’s another flurry of activity, everyone rushing to touch up their makeup or check their shoelaces.

Karina makes her way over to you immediately, stepping gingerly over pom poms and duffel bags left on the floor.

“Game day. You ready?” She asks, an excited glint in her eyes as she links both arms with you, a little tradition that the both of you started in your first year.

“As I’ll ever be,” you exhale out, smiling at her and hoping it comes out confident.

“You’re our captain. You’ll do great,” Ningning interjects, passing you your poms, which are thankfully, not damp from sweaty palms. Exhilaration is slowly bubbling up in you, pushing away the anxiety, and you find yourself bouncing on the balls of your feet.

And then there’s the loud blare of a horn, signifying the end of the opening ceremony.

“Hey, you guys ready?” The voice you hear this time is much lower, and you turn your head to see Jaemin, two red stripes painted horizontally across his face. He’s grinning widely when you turn to face him, and you feel strangely comforted by the sight of the bubbly jock.

“There’s my favourite cheerleader,” he says, and you let out a laugh despite your nerves, striding towards him. “Good luck with the game, Jaemin. You’ll crush it,” you tell him, and he shrugs nonchalantly, dripping with confidence.

“We’ll do even better if you guys put on the best performance of your lives.”

There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes, one that grounds you and makes you feel a little more ready to go onto the pitch. It’s as much for you as it is for the rest of your team, and Jaemin’s as well.

“We will,” you promise, angling your chin to the side. Jaemin gets the hint, opening the door wide for you to follow him out, the rest of them behind you.

The cheers in the stadium are deafening, but you tune them out, instead choosing to focus on how white your sneakers are against the red track, or the pace of your breathing as you get into position.

In the few seconds before the music starts, you dart your head up quickly to the spectator stands, searching, before your eyes finally halt on a figure, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, bomber jacket over his shoulders.

You’d spot him in any crowd. From here, you can’t see all that clearly, but you can tell Donghyuck is smiling, cheering as loudly as he possibly can.

This time, when you start your first stunt, your feet land true.

It probably isn’t the best idea to confess that you barely understand the rules of rugby, considering that you are on the frontline of every single game.

Sure, Jaemin may be the quarterback, but you’re not particularly sure what that means besides the fact that he’s set the highest record for goals scored in a single season.

However, you’ve simplified the rules sufficiently: When the ball enters the in-goal area, you cheer. Which is exactly what you’re doing, jumping up and down excitedly when Jaemin gains another point right as the buzzer goes off, signifying the end of the match.

Ningning is hugging your shoulders tightly, as the both of you watch the team do a victory run, Jaemin and Jeno making their ways back to the spectator stand first.

“I know I’ve seen you on the field a hundred times, but that was amazing,” you gush, watching as Jaemin tilts his head, pleased.

“You know, now that the season is over-” he says, and you arch an eyebrow curiously. “Yes?”

“- you don’t have any more excuses to avoid confessing to Donghyuck,” he finishes, smiling mischievously when your cheeks redden. Jeno nods in encouragement, and you realise that you’ve been set up by the two jocks in front of you.

In an attempt for support, you turn towards Ningning, but she shrugs. “They’re right. Giselle’s ideas were good, but I don’t think they’ll work for someone like him. You just need to say it directly.”

Her words cause your shoulders to sink slightly, and Karina, who’s finally noticed the little gathering, leans in.

“Just do it, Y/N. You never know. Besides, Donghyuck cares for you. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, he would never just end the friendship that way.”

“But what if he does? What if he only wants us to be friends but has to distance himself because of my feelings and we become strangers?”

Jaemin frowns slightly. “That sounds awfully specific.”

His comment causes Ningning to roll her eyes, and she places her other hand on your shoulder, turning you towards her.

“Look at me. I know you’re a literature student, but stop projecting yourself onto characters.”

Your mouth gapes open at her words, ready with a retort, but she continues.

“The both of you are not Laurie and Jo. You are Y/N and Donghyuck, and everything will be fine.”

“Y/N and Donghyuck,” you repeat, almost dazed as you look at Ningning, fear slowly solidifying into something a little more like confidence. Y/N and Donghyuck. It’s the simplest way to explain the both of you, but the mention of it also causes a twinge of your heart.

Being with Donghyuck is easy, something that you’ve been doing for most of your life. But it doesn’t feel like enough, not yet.

You want to belong to him, and you want Donghyuck to be yours.

“Y/N.” The familiar voice causes your heart to seize, and you turn to face the man himself, eyes bright as he looks at you. Karina lets out a soft laugh at your captivated expression, but you don’t bother to turn towards her.

The only thing that you catch is Jaemin leaning closer towards you. “Go get him, Y/N,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you swallow nervously before finally crossing the distance between you and Donghyuck. He looks even more stunning up close, honey-toned skin illuminated under the bright stadium lights.

“Hey.” Your mouth feels dry when you say it, stopping a few feet away from him.

His mouth curves into a barely-there smirk, and your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt nervously. “Ready to go?”

You nod, looping your arm through his and praying the motion comes off natural. Jaemin’s words are still ringing in your head, and you know the four of them are still staring unabashedly, but you shove them down in favour of basking in the moment. However, you can’t deny that you’re shifting closer and closer to saying fuck it and blurting out your feelings as each second ticks by.

It seems that rational thinking is harder to come by these days, especially when you’re with Donghyuck.

“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza already,” he tells you, and it makes you fall just a little bit more, the way he remembers the little things.

“Is it pepperoni?”

“Of course. With extra cheese. I know the way to your heart.”

He does. Donghyuck knows the way to your heart like he has a map, though you’re quite sure he could walk the metaphorical path blindfolded.

Or maybe the path is whichever way he steps. You’re not quite sure.

Donghyuck leads you towards the carpark, until he suddenly halts near the entrance of the stadium, expression changing from lighthearted to stone-faced. “Is something wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing in concern. But he remains silent, hesitating slightly before shrugging off his jacket.

“Wear this,” he instructs, but instead of placing it on your shoulders, Donghyuck ties it around your waist, fingers nimble. When he’s done, he looks up, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, instead drifting further back and sharpening into a glare. You’ve never seen the boy angry before, and it isn’t directed at you.

“Donghyuck, what is it?” You look behind, only to be met with nothing but a view of the pitch. At your insistence, he scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed at his sudden outburst. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles.

You make a pointed glance at the jacket around your waist, before glancing up at him, expectant. Donghyuck seems to realize he’s been backed into a corner, and hangs his head down slightly.

“It’s just-”

“Just what?”

“Some guys were looking at you,” he finally admits, and you suck in a breath out of surprise at his unexpected words. It’s not an unusual occurrence, considering you’re a cheerleader and there are always douchebags, even in your own school. You’ve been catcalled, wolf-whistled at - a few guys staring at your legs is barely anything, but you realise this is the first time Donghyuck is witnessing it firsthand, often not being on the pitch with you.

The protective gesture makes your heart skip a beat, however, and you decide it’s as good a time of any to get a gauge of Donghyuck’s feelings towards you.

“Were you jealous?” You quickly lean in as you pop the question, attempting to make your voice teasing to hide your true intentions. If anything, you’ll just brush it off as flirting between friends.

However, he remains silent, and the hope in your heart fizzles unstably as you wait for his response. When Donghyuck finally lifts his head, his eyes are hooded, filled with a dark intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

“And if I said I was?”

Your eyes widen imperceptibly at that, shifting backwards as Donghyuck takes a step closer, and another, until you feel your back press against his car, the cold metal forcing you to bite back a shiver. But Donghyuck only moves impossibly closer, until the tips of his scuffed boots are brushing your sneakers. A nervous laugh escapes you, eyes darting anywhere but him.

“You still haven’t responded to my question,” he points out, the corner of his mouth curled up as he looks at you, waiting.

You’re not sure if you’re even breathing, attempting to focus on anything except the boy right in front of you.

“Then- then I would ask you why,” you finally stutter out, and Donghyuck lets out an amused hum.

“Take a guess.”

You wonder if Donghyuck’s just teasing, or if he’s serious. If there’s even the slim possibility - any chance that he might feel the same way you do.

Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you feel brave. It makes you think that maybe, just maybe- you’ve found the path to his heart as well.

But you’re still scared, so you shake your head. “No. Tell me.”

You need to hear it from him, hear Donghyuck tell you that this isn’t just some pipe dream of yours.

He lets out a huff of amusement at your stubbornness. “Fine. I like you, L/N Y/N.”

The confession goes straight to your head, and you pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Really?”

Donghyuck stares at you in disbelief. “Yes, really. Why do you think I got jealous? I don’t want you to be with Jaemin, or any other guy. I want you to be with me.”

You didn’t think it was possible for him to fluster you even more, but it seems you’re dead wrong, as your cheeks redden further and you tear your gaze away from him. “Oh,” you breathe out, and Donghyuck looks at you with equal parts exasperation and adoration.

“If you’re going to reject me, do it now,” he adds, voice light, but there’s a vulnerability on his face, evident even in the poor lighting. You realise that he’s likely been full of doubt, right up until this very moment - not too much unlike yourself.

You’d be a fool to give this chance up, and there’s nothing to lose, not anymore, when Donghyuck’s already confirmed your dreams and turned them into reality.

“I like you too. So, so much,” you finally exhale out, and his expression softens into something like relief.

“Good. I was starting to think you’d never look my way,” he mutters, and you look at him incredulously.

“Are you kidding? I even asked Giselle for-” your mouth falls shut just in time, but he catches on quickly, mischief glinting.

“Asked her for what, Y/N?”

At this point, you figure it’s better to tell Donghyuck yourself, than let him find out through the grapevine.

“How to get you to fall in love with me,” you force out, and he lifts an eyebrow in response. “Is that what you attempting to play Overwatch was?”

You glare at him, feeling caught. “No!”

“Okay, well, then how about the skating- wait. Was Jaemin in on this?” He narrows his eyes, and you shrink under his gaze, only proving him right.

You’re not even surprised anymore and how Donghyuck managed to decipher each of Giselle’s tactics exactly, and you’re starting to wonder why you even trusted the girl in the first place.

Still, if it got you here, you suppose you owe the girl a thank you.

“I was right. He was in on it. I can’t believe you of all people would agree to something like this-”

That’s it. You’re not sure if you can take the embarrassment of Donghyuck slowly dismantling your plan any more, so you make another irrational decision.

Tiptoeing, you press a soft kiss to the boy’s lips.

It seems to work for a few seconds, Donghyuck freezing up and looking at you in disbelief. “Can we not talk about that anymore?” you ask sweetly, and he nods instinctively, a dazed expression on his face.

“You just kissed me,” he points out, and you nod, head tilting to the side in confusion. “Yeah.”

“You just kissed me.”

“Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t stop repeating the same sentence-”

“Let’s do that again.” He doesn’t hesitate to cut you off, hands gripping onto your hips firmly and pulling you towards him.

If your kiss was a peck, Donghyuck is completely different, eagerly stealing the air from your lungs as his mouth slots gently over yours, tugging gently on your bottom lip.

For someone who’s never dated, he’s an insanely good kisser, and it thrills and terrifies you in equal measure.

Your hands make their way to his chest unconsciously, fisting in the cotton material of his shirt. But he doesn’t stop, and you gasp when his tongue brushes against yours briefly. It’s so very different from the best friend you know and love, the one who’s always bright and focused - the way he kisses you is unrestrained and messy, almost as if he can’t quite get enough of you.

Your brain is short-circuiting, only tuned in to the feeling of Donghyuck’s lips moving against your own. You’re well aware that anyone could interrupt and resign you to months of endless teasing, but you can’t seem to get yourself to care, or stop.

It seems like too short a time when Donghyuck finally allows you some air, his thumb caressing your cheek gently. Even then, he doesn’t make any move to distance himself, breath fanning over your face with every exhale.

“Does this…does this mean we’re a thing now?” you ask, only realizing how dumb your question is once it escapes. However, Donghyuck doesn’t seem to care, looking at you with an expression so fond that it makes you blush.

“Yes. I mean, if you want to. I know I do,” he replies quickly, and your heart feels so full that it might burst as you look at your best friend-turned-boyfriend.

“I’ve never wanted anything more.”

The months of October and November have affectionately been coined ‘break-up season’ by your entire school, owing to the sheer number of couples that fail to last under the pressure of academic expectations and the stress of final exams.

But if anything, the pursuit of the most important grades of your entire high school life has only brought you and Donghyuck closer, brief kisses shared in the library over textbooks and fingers intertwined whenever he’s sitting with you.

Call it trauma bonding, but it’s not as if you and Donghyuck haven’t been through dozens of other breakup seasons. It’s just a little more applicable now that the both of you are dating.

“Look, if I fail, I just won’t go to university. I’ll hone my other skills.”

You’re currently standing opposite Donghyuck in your bedroom, hands flung out to emphasise your point, and a bemused expression appears on his face at your words.

“You won’t fail, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but in the hypothetical situation that I do, I need to be ready to practise to be a trophy wife.”

“There’s practice for that?”

“Of course,” you reply earnestly. Donghyuck crosses his legs on your duvet, looking at you disbelievingly.

“Didn’t you see that one video? Of the computer engineer and his trophy wife. She’s retired at twenty-six, Donghyuck. It’s the dream.”

“Am I supposed to be the computer engineer?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.

“Does that mean you’re marrying me? You should have told me this was a proposal, Y/N. I would have prepared something,” he replies smoothly, tugging you closer to him by wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

Dating Donghyuck has only caused his flirtatious teasing to increase in intensity, and you’re not sure if your heart might just jump out of your chest one day from his actions. “You wish,” you retort weakly, giving in when he tugs you down to sit next to him.

“I do,” he replies, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your palm, and your eyes widen at his candidness. You drag your hands, and subsequently one of his, up to cover your face, embarrassed.

“You can’t just say things like that!”

“You’re the one who brought up being my trophy wife! What was I supposed to do, say no?”

You don’t reply, but Donghyuck’s stronger than you, eventually pulling your hands away by the wrists.

“In all seriousness, though, I mean it,” he says, looking at you insistently.

“But we’re still so young,” you mumble back. “We’ve barely graduated high school, and you’re saying this?”

“I’m not saying we should get married right now, obviously. I’m just saying that I’ve already spent most of my life with you-” he shifts slightly closer to you. “-what’s a few more decades?”

He asks the question earnestly, enunciating each and every syllable and allowing you to realise that he’s being perfectly honest - Donghyuck means every word. You’re suddenly gripped by longing as you look at him, taking in each and every one of the features that you have memorized by heart.

He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, and he’s yours.

Student council president, physics nerd, gamer, budding musician - they’re all elements of Donghyuck that make him him, and every part is precious to you. There’s a sort of desperation that tugs at you, an unfamiliar feeling that doesn’t seem to make sense - you’re already dating him. What else could you possibly want?

Until the words appear in your mind, the realization dawning clear as day.

Like isn’t big enough of a word to encapsulate what you feel for Donghyuck, to represent the time you’ve spent with him. You’ve loved him since the first time he stood in your kitchen and attempted to bake a cake for your birthday, since he passed you your first Christmas present and gave you a kiss on your cheek when the both of you were seven, the moment immortalized in a photo frame above your bookshelf.

You’ve been head over heels for Donghyuck since he sat down on your bed and let you put face glitter along his cheekbones, or when he let you make an extra dish in Overcooked, even if it meant the both of you got fewer points. And you fall a little bit more each time he helps to massage your shoulders after practice, or when he kisses you with dizzying passion.

And you’re quite sure he knows you love him, from the way you remember the way he likes his ramen to having his favourite songs saved into your playlists. Or from how you’ve willingly watched Chicken Little with him, or made twenty pages of Languages notes for him to study before the exam. But you want to tell him, just because something about verbalizing it feels necessary.

Ningning might tease you for being a typical literature student, but you need to put your love for Donghyuck into words.

Which is why your voice doesn’t waver as you meet Donghyuck’s eyes, the warmth and adoration in his gaze reflected in yours.

“I love you, Donghyuck. You don’t have to say it back, of course, but I wanted you to know-”

He doesn’t say it back, but you get your answer when he kisses you again. It’s less hungry and more sweet, Donghyuck holding you as if you’re something fragile, something to be treasured.

You take the time to savour the moment, basking in the little bubble that he has created around the both of you. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel Donghyuck smiling into the kiss, unable to hide his joy.

You never needed three ways to get Donghyuck to fall in love with you - he already had. All the both of you needed was a little bravery, that small push that would convince you to take the jump from friendship to romance.

“You look pretty like this,” he whispers, soft enough for only you to hear.

You’re not sure how to respond to that. Like anyone else, you have days where you feel like you look good, or times when Karina and Ningning are there to doll you up. But having Donghyuck call you pretty feels different, perhaps just because of how much he means to you.

“Thanks. You’re…pretty too,” you say absentmindedly, causing Donghyuck to huff a laugh.

“Really?” He asks, batting his eyelashes.

That earns Donghyuck a swat on his back, but you’re laughing as he falls back dramatically, pulling you down with him.

Just like that, the tender moment is broken, but you don’t mind it, not when he’s the one making you laugh.

“Today’s supposed to be movie night. What are we watching?” You ask, feeling the bed shift as Donghyuck turns to face you, resting his head on his hand.

“I was thinking The Notebook,” he suggests, and you try not to make your wince too obvious.

“But it’s so unrealistic.” Donghyuck lets out an affronted gasp at your words, pinching your side. “I will have you know The Notebook is one of the greatest romantic movies of all time-”

You shake your head resolutely, watching as his face falls. “Nope. Most definitely not,” you declare, and Donghyuck pouts slightly, head falling back onto the mattress. It takes a few moments of him staring at the ceiling before you hear a noise of amusement, and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

“Did you think of something?” You ask, and when he faces you this time, his eyes are alight with mischief, mouth curled into a lazy smirk.

“We can do…other things.”

Your thoughts immediately drift haywire, and you look up at him, eyes wide. “Like what?”

“Like-” Donghyuck leans in tantalizingly close, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose, and his fingers brush over your lips just briefly.

“Kissing?” You respond reflexively, and his grin turns wider. “You suggested that, not me,” he retorts, but his eyes dart down towards your mouth anyways.

There isn’t any time for you to bite back a reply, before he finally closes the gap and connects your mouth with his. Donghyuck circles slow, lazy circles over your hipbone as he leans into you, and you place your hand on the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

When you push him away briefly for air, your cheeks are flushed, but Donghyuck looks just as affected as you are, hair messy from lying on the bed.

“I think we should scrap movie night. We can just do this instead,” he puts forth, and you nod eagerly, causing his grip on your waist to tighten.

“Sounds good to me.”

taglist (let me know if you would like to be added for my future works!) ♠ @hyucksdarling @tonicandjins @rosariafanaccount @sundamariis @smwhrinthehaze @renjunphile @loevngyuno @@doieslefttoe @jvjsssnaa @liliansun @pockyandme @haechoshi

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