Chapter Text
Jake has always been casual-not-casual about everything.
Which is why he's strolling into Riwoo's dance class right now, with a cute, blond boy in tow. Riwoo wants to kill himself.
"Oh," Jake says, almost as though it's the first time he's seen Riwoo since he walked in five minutes ago, almost like he doesn't know Riwoo teaches this fucking class. "Hey, uh—Sunoo, this is Riwoo. Friend of mine."
Riwoo can't make a public proclamation that he used to suck face with Jake, and it's also not like he should, so he bites down on his bottom lip and forces an awkward smile. "Hi Sunoo, you a freshman? I don't think I've seen you around before."
"I'm not, actually!" he says with a shy smile, and Riwoo has to really set his grudge aside because Sunoo's absolutely and devastatingly adorable—and he's got nothing to do with his hatred towards Jake. "I think we came in at the same time but I'm in Interactive Media so..."
"Ah, that makes sense," Riwoo replies cordially. He gestures to a relatively empty corner in the dance studio. "Well, I guess you should leave your stuff around the side. We'll start the warm-ups soon."
Like the absolute asshole he is, Jake just breezes past him cooly, guiding Sunoo to lockers where they deposit their bags. It's really been nearly half a year since the breakup, but it stings just as hard as it had on the first day after. Riwoo's partly to blame—he'd buried himself into work immediately after it happened, drowning himself in his assignments and taking up more choreo classes to teach than his sleep schedule could handle. He doesn't think he's ever let himself process it fully yet, and when he does think about it, he just ends up lamenting about all that was lost and not at all what he lost to Jake.
Anyway, Jake has done a good job of avoiding Riwoo on campus since then. It was somewhat of a mutually unsaid/unwritten agreement to commit to steering clear of each other as much as possible.
That is, until now.
When he throws a quick glance at their corner of the room, he sees Jake gently removing a fallen eyelash from Sunoo's cheeks. It doesn't feel like it's for show, not at all. Jake's practically got honey oozing from his eyes as he holds Sunoo's face still with his other hand and just thinking about how he used to be on the receiving end of such affection makes his head swim and his vision blur.
He swallows around the lump in his throat but he can't do anything about the weight sitting heavy on his chest.
Riwoo tears his eyes away, walks up to the front and center of the studio, and for the rest of the torturous hour, he tries his best not to let his gaze stray again.
-
"You know what I think would help?" Jaehyun pipes up at the study lounge hours later as Riwoo slumps over the table, his pumpkin spice latte left forgotten.
"Your suggestions are never helpful," he mutters into his sleeve.
"I think you should get laid."
He hears the resounding echo of a slap on the arm and even with his eyes closed, he can imagine Sungho's got his hands full keeping his boyfriend in check at all times.
"No, no—guys. Hear me out. If Jake's really out here parading his new boyfriend, then why shouldn't you?"
Riwoo takes a break from wallowing in his sadness to prop his chin on his arm, staring at Jaehyun. "I think it might be because I don't have a new boyfriend."
Sungho pats Riwoo's hair twice, almost like he's saying "There, there". And maybe it's slightly—a lot—pathetic, but Riwoo allows his shoulders to sag as he leans into Sungho's warm touch because he hasn't felt this comforted in a long time. "Look, you know how I feel about Jaehyun's ideas but maybe he's actually onto something."
"You're not serious."
The patting of his hair stops. "I am." He watches as Sungho exchanges looks with his boyfriend, almost with a pained expression like they've been putting this conversation off for a long time. "Jaehyun and I have been pretty worried about you. These past few months... it's almost like you've been disappearing right in front of us." Sungho sucks in a deep breath and when he exhales, he fixes Riwoo with a look filled with pity. Riwoo's grip on his own sweater sleeve tightens so much, his knuckles turn white. He hates this. Hates how he can't say anything in retort because it's the truth. He doesn't think anything has inflicted more hurt on him than the moment Jake decided to call it quits, right under a withered cherry blossom tree. "You're not eating properly, not sleeping properly. Whenever we do see you, you're nearly collapsing and on the brink of fainting. I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet, to be honest."
Jaehyun's teeth worries his bottom lip as he drums his fingers against the scratched wooden table in a hurried beat. "I know you think we're nagging you but we're just trying to look out for you. Honest. We think it's time you tried moving on to greener pastures."
"He wasn't even all that, anyway," Sungho says as he strokes Riwoo's back. "He always was a little too frat boy-like for my taste," he admits with a wrinkle in his nose.
"Just a little?" Jaehyun laughs. "The backward cap would've been my cue to leave."
But more so than Jake, Riwoo finds his thoughts drifting to the small, cute-as-a-button nose by his side today. And although it hurts him to admit it, he's started wondering if the relationship would've lasted if he had been a little more loveable, a little more openly generous with his acts of love. He lodges his fingernail into a crevice in the study lounge table and picks at the stray pieces of splinters. He knows he shouldn't be thinking about such useless what-ifs, but the danger of such thoughts is that they arrive without warning and plant their insecurities deep enough to contaminate everything else.
"He wasn't a good guy, I know," he admits, "and somehow that makes me feel like I'm worse."
Sungho pulls him up into a hug, and soon after he feels an added weight on his back as Jaehyun drapes himself over them.
"We have your back, Sanghyeokie," Sungho tells him firmly, and Riwoo's not sure if that's going to be enough to pull him ashore from drowning in the throes of his depression, but it's going to have to be for now.
-
So that's really how he comes about his resolution. Or, more specifically, resolutions.
1. Find a cute guy
2. Get laid
3. Make sure it's no strings attached
4. Make sure it's really no strings attached
Riwoo has decided that he can't do relationships. At least, not for the time being. If there's one thing he learned from his few months with Jake, it's that his heart can't be trusted to have everything it wants. It latches on to things too relentlessly, loves too ardently. Now that he thinks about it, there's not one thing in his life that he has picked up that he willingly put back down on the ground. Whether it be his hobbies, like dancing, or his friends, like Jaehyun and then Sungho, he's never once considered letting anything go even when things got difficult. In that aspect, he supposes he's somewhat of a hoarder.
So he can't get into another relationship—not after the damage his first and last one did to him.
It's an early 8 am class on a Tuesday—Directing 1 & 2—when a boy he's never seen before catches his eye. He's tall, oozes confidence, and Riwoo startles when he sees the dimples appear on his smooth cheeks when he smiles for the first time. The kind of guy you can't take your eyes off of once you've seen him.
Throughout the 2-hour lecture, Riwoo finds that he can't stop stealing glances at the boy, whether at the light catching in his blonde hair or at the bobbing of his Adam's apple when he laughs his a smooth, low laugh that makes people turn heads. He's staring when the boy turns to meet his eyes, almost like he felt Riwoo drill holes into the side of his face. When Riwoo doesn't snap his face back to the front of the class in time, he catches the boy smiling kindly at him, dimples bracketing his mouth again.
The back of Riwoo's neck burns in humiliation as he pulls his laptop closer to his chest and pretends that he's been focusing this whole time.
But how could he? He's been attending this class for three weeks now and he definitely would've seen someone like that if they really had been around.
He pushes his circular glasses up his nose and ducks his head really low for the rest of the lesson.
He does steal one more look, though, and it's when the lecturer is projecting the attendance code on their screen while the rest of the class scrambles to open their app to take it. The boy doesn't make a move to scan the code, just leans back into his chair while his phone rests on the desk in front of him. As Riwoo has suspected, he's probably invading his friend's class and doesn't actually take the elective.
When the class officially concludes, Riwoo shoves all his belongings into his worn-out denim bag and takes two steps at a time when he makes his way down the incline of the lecture hall. Thankfully, he doesn't have any more classes till the evening and he can catch the shuttle back to his on-campus accommodation for some much-needed rest. These days, he's been going through hell, repeating twelve-hour days where he rushes from class to class, and then to his part-time work as a choreo teacher. He wolves down sandwiches in 10 minutes when he has them (if he even has them), and accepts konjac jellies for supper from his students when he gets them.
And although he did do this to himself, it doesn't mean he enjoys it. He'd settled into this routine post-Jake, when things were falling apart around him and all he could think of doing was push himself to the point of breaking physically, just so he didn't have the extra energy to think about how he was (is) doing emotionally. And now that he was knees-deep into it, it's not like he can just stop.
He blanks out at the bus station till the shuttle arrives. He's having trouble holding his brain together in one piece and he desperately needs all the sleep he can get, so when he collapses into a seat all the way at the back, he knows he has exactly 12 minutes for a quick shut-eye.
Until a presence plops himself down unceremoniously beside him, even though there are at least 20 empty seats littered around the shuttle.
"Hey," the stranger says.
Riwoo opens his eyes. He blinks twice, maybe twenty times.
It's the stranger from Directing 1 & 2.
"Um, hi...?"
He wishes he had something much more impressive to say, but his mouth is working about as well as his extremely sleep-deprived brain, so he lets his lips clamp up.
"I saw you staring in class."
"Are you a stalker?"
The blonde guy freezes, then bursts out laughing, and it's really the first time Riwoo has seen the moon in broad daylight. "I'm Leehan, and I promise I'm not a stalker. If anything, you're the one stalking me."
Riwoo looks around him, at the other tired students half-dead on the bus, and then back at Leehan. Up close, he's even more stunning, his skin clear of blemishes with no sign of dark circles ringing his bright, sparkly eyes. While he'd tried to go blonde once before, he didn't quite like what it did to his complexion. On Leehan, however, the color looks natural, even bringing out the healthy pink flush of his cheeks and accentuating the brightness of his eyes.
"You're doing it again," Leehan points out, almost in gleeful playfulness.
He needs to fucking die, and then get some more sleep in his afterlife, and then die again. He looks out the window for a few seconds before he answers, "I'm Riwoo."
"Hi, Riwoo."
"Are you a freshman?" he asks, then regrets it as a heavy-hitting pang hits him right in the chest again because he remembers asking Sunoo that exact question. And when he thinks about Sunoo, well...
Unlike Sunoo, though, Leehan beams and nods once. He has a weird smile—it pushes his eyes into a gentle curve and it almost makes him look sleepy. "Yeah."
"Then I don't think you should be calling me Riwoo."
"Why? Do you have a preferred pet name?"
Riwoo fixes him with an unimpressed glare before he hugs his bag tighter to his chest. "I'm a sophomore. You shouldn't be talking to your seniors like this."
"Fine then, I'll call you hyung."
He almost turns around to berate him, reminding him that they've only been acquainted for a grand total of <10 minutes, but finds it's aimless to continue. When the conversation stops flowing for a minute, Riwoo's consciousness starts to drift away from him again, and his vision is blurring with the tears brought out by a deep yawn, and the shuttle lurches, and his body follows suit as well—his forehead almost smacks right into the back of the plastic chair in front and he's too tired to stop it from happening. Thankfully, it meets a soft landing in Leehan's palm instead.
He jerks back instinctively and mutters an apology, "I'm sorry, fuck, I'm just really out of it this morning."
Instead of teasing him, Leehan lowers his head so their gazes are level. "Are you okay?"
He doesn't know what compels him to drop everything on his mind on the stranger next to him, but he figures he's never going to see Leehan again, what with him being a freshman and all. When he sees the sign for "I-House" outside the window as the shuttle comes to another sudden stop, he knows he has a maximum of 7 minutes left with Leehan anyway.
"Honestly, no, I just got broken up with."
"Oh. Oh. I'm sorry," Leehan says with a wince, and something about his expression makes Riwoo feel as though it's genuine concern. "Like, just got broken up with as in this morning? Last night?"
"No, 'just' as in nearly 6 months ago."
Leehans' eyes widen to their full size for the first time since Riwoo's first seen him, and it draws a laugh from somewhere deep inside his chest.
"So, I'm assuming the breakup went terribly."
"For me, yeah. For him—yeah, no. He's definitely doing much better than I am." Riwoo's hands ball up into fists at his knees as he stretches his back. "To be honest, it was my first relationship ever and I think that contributes to the whole—" he gestures wildly in front of him to illustrate the mess he's navigating through, "—fucked up shittiness of it all."
Leehan's frame shrinks next to him as he takes in Riwoo's words and mulls it over. He's got an interesting face. Riwoo can almost see everything going on in his brain, reflected on his extremely expressive features. Somehow, it makes Riwoo feel like laughing more than he has in the past few months combined. Even more than he did on the night when Sungho and Jaehyun agreed to wear the most embarrassing pair of matching sleep pants ever (they had cartoon penises printed on them because Riwoo has the humor of a middle schooler). (They only agreed to it because Riwoo promised them he'd crawl out of the dark hole of his room to join them for movie night).
"So why'd you keep staring at me? Do I look like your ex?"
Riwoo does a double take. "Yeah, uh, now that I look at you closely, you kinda do. Just the nose and the jaw, though."
Sighing, Leehan lets his head hang between his shoulders, shaking. "That must've been quite the loss, then."
"Please. Just between the two of us, I'm more of the catch."
Looking up, Leehan's eyes find his when he flashes yet another easy smile again. "I'm sure," he replies kindly.
"Move over, the next stop is mine."
"You stay at the Beophyeon House?" Leehan's a curious person, Riwoo realizes. His inquisitive nature is written all over his face and the way his shoulders roll forward in anticipation when he's waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, but I'm planning on looking for off-campus options soon. They tend to be cheaper than on-campus housing anyway."
"Don't you have to pay for Wi-fi and a car, then?"
The questions really never end with this guy. "Not if you have friends who are practically married and can drive you anywhere," he answers cheekily. They've already done all the calculations necessary, the three of them. If Sungho and Jaehyun are both sharing the costs, getting a two-bedroom in a neighboring block will take 200 off their current monthly expenses—each. Riwoo's currently paying for a single room that barely has enough room for the door to fully swing open and there are additional "admin" fees the dorm students pay every 3 months. He's tired of working his ass off teaching classes, just for all of that to go into lining the university's pockets while he subsists on kimbaps and sandwiches and resists the urge to pay 20 meager dollars for a new game he has his eyes on. "What about you? Which dorm are you at?"
"Oh, I... I live at the Q."
"This shuttle doesn't go there."
Leehan's Adam's apple bobs vigorously as he scrambles for an answer. "Yeah, I know."
And then it dawns on Riwoo. He laughs, loud and bright as the ridiculousness of the situation settles in around them. "And you called me a stalker."
Leehan cards a hand through his hair and clears his throat. "I was just kidding," he murmurs with a hand pressed to his lips.
The shuttle rolls to a stop and Riwoo swings his bag over his shoulder as he walks down the aisle. At the last minute, he decides to turn around and wave goodbye at Leehan.
Even if they don't see each other again, he at least owes a smile to this dude for making his day a lot better than it was set out to be.
Leehan waves back, his smile as bright as a summer's day.
-
Riwoo is wrong. He actually does run into Leehan again, and he's not sure how he feels about it because he immediately feels Jaehyun perk up when Leehan screams "Riwoo hyung!" all the way across the quad.
There's another boy next to Leehan. Riwoo didn't know it was possible before, but this boy is even taller, with thick wolfish black hair that stands out stark against his pale skin. He's in a band tee and baggy jeans. Riwoo feels like the rips in the denim might be larger than they were when they were first bought.
"Your friend?" Jaehyun asks, eyes shining and lips turned up into a smirk. "Or, like, a friend friend?"
Sungho swats his boyfriend at the back of his head again. "Why is it that your mind always goes there regardless of the situation?"
"I don't know what you're talking about because this is exactly the kind of situation where our mind has to go there."
"He's just a friend," Riwoo answers quietly, but he feels his heart jump when he realizes Leehan and his friend are making their way towards their group. Leehan, with an eager expression, and his friend with a much more embarrassed and apologetic look on his face.
Jaehyun lets out a low whistle as Leehan draws even closer. "Well, I think you should start thinking about whether you want to make him more than that."
Today, Leehan has his hair in a half-up-half-down style. Riwoo doesn't think he's ever seen anyone more beautiful when they wear their hair this way, and self-consciously picks at his old flannel and white tee with the stretched out neck.
"Hey, hyung!" Leehan greets sunnily when he's close enough, then turns his smile to Sungho and Jaehyun. The former returns the greeting with a polite wave, and Jaehyun... he has a look on his face that lets Riwoo know he's up to no good at all.
The tall friend executes a small bow, and Riwoo watches as Sungho breaks out into praise at how "well-mannered this kid is!".
"This is Taesan. We're both in Composition," Leehan introduces smoothly.
"No, I'm in Composition and you're in Freeloading," Taesan complains, but Riwoo can tell there's no real resentment in his tone.
"Well... Sungho and Jaehyun," he says, gesturing to his friends.
"So this is the married couple you were talking about moving in with."
"They're not actually married," Riwoo rushes to explain to Taesan, who has his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he's caught up to the lore of the friend group. "They've just been together for a long time and sometimes it does feel like that. It's just a joke."
The sun gives an indication of the time, and while Riwoo really doesn't enjoy the thought of leaving Jaehyun with Leehan, he might just run late for his evening dance class if he stayed any longer. He says as much to the group—and what a weird mix of people it is—and Leehan visibly deflates.
Sensing Riwoo's hesistance to leave, Sungho pipes up, "Yeah, it's a shame but we should probably send Riwoo to the studio."
"What? But we've barely talked—"
Sungho smiles through gritted teeth as he tightens his grip on his boyfriend's arm. "Didn't we say we'd walk him there today?" He turns to Leehan and Taesan (who's really just lingering awkwardly behind his friend) and says, "Sorry we didn't have more time to get to know you. Riwoo's been overworking himself lately so we're just making sure he doesn't faint on the way to his part time. I'm sure we'll see you guys around again sometime."
He's already coraling both Jaehyun and Riwoo away with his hands on their backs when Leehan shouts, "Hyung, it's the dance studios in the Performing Arts faculty right?"
Riwoo doesn't think much of it when he answers with a nod, but in hindsight he should've known better than to dox himself like that.
-
His voice is hoarse by the end of the class, the forced enthusiasm draining from him with each passing minute.
His stomach is giving him such a hard time he doesn't even have the energy to worry about Jake being in the same room as him. By the time people are filing out of the room after saying their thank-yous, he feels a wave of nausea crash into him, threatening to bring him onto his knees. Slowly, he retreats to a corner where he twists open the cap of a bottle of mineral water and gulps down a few mouthfuls to satiate his empty stomach for the time being.
The spotlights seemed to buzz with an intensity that somehow amplified the nausea.
No, no, no not here, he thinks, teeth clenched against the bile threatening to rise up.
Not with Jake still packing up his bag and Sunoo's. Not when he still has an 800-word essay to complete tonight.
The next time the door to the studio is pushed open, though, it's not to let the dancers out but to allow a familiar silhouette to step in.
Leehan scans the room curiously before his gaze lands on Riwoo, and the playful glint in his eyes is immediately replaced by genuine worry when he registers the greenish tint to Riwoo's face. Riwoo keeps his eyes trained on the floor. The concerned gaze Leehan's giving him is only making him feel more vulnerable than he already is.
Rushing over, Leehan calls, his voice laced with uneasiness, "Hyung, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he insists, forcing a faint smile, "just a little hungry. Haven't eaten since the morning."
"Are you serious?" For the first time since they've met, Riwoo is seeing how Leehan looks like when he's frowning, and just the sight of it is enough to make him feel a lot better. "You should know better than to go all day without food if you're going to do something like teach a class," he chastises. Leehan digs deep into his right pocket, then pulls out a bag of multi-colored jellies.
He feels a pang of embarrassment at receiving help from someone younger than him, someone he barely knows. But the thought of those jellies, sweet and chewy, is too tempting to resist. He pulls off the elastic band holding the plastic together and pops one into his mouth, instantly feeling relief when the sweetness sinks into his tongue.
"Dude, this is the best thing I've tasted in a hot fucking minute," Riwoo exclaims, closing his eyes in bliss.
Leehan laughs at the overreaction, a warm sound that sticks to his ears. "You're welcome."
In his peripheral vision, he sees Jake staring at them from across the room. He's not the type to want his exes to be forever hung up on him and feel jealousy over seeing him with someone new, but he admits that he's relieved that Jake's too far away to hear what they're talking about. He'd sooner throw himself into the ocean than have Jake feeling triumphant over the fact that their breakup has been costing Riwoo sleep and even the time for proper meals now.
"Thank you. I'm serious." Riwoo tries to push the bag of jellies back into Leehan's hand, their fingers brushing and sending an unexpected jolt of warmth up his arm. Leehan just places a warm palm over his and nudges it back to him.
"Keep it. If you're that serious about thanking me you'll have to grant me a favor."
"Which is...?"
Leehan leans closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he whispers into Riwoo's ear, "Your number."
Riwoo jolts, and the back of his head nearly collides into the wall he's leaning on. His heart hammers, a frantic drum beat in his ears.
"You don't have to, of course, but I'd really like it," Leehan adds, his voice casual, as if asking for a favor was the most mundane thing in the world.
Riwoo tells himself to calm down, that he might be misinterpreting his actions and words. After all, Leehan has always been slightly forward in the way he talks and acts. It doesn't have to mean anything. "Just my number, right? That's the favor you're asking for?" he asks suspiciously, making sure there isn't a catch he's unaware of.
"Yeah, how else am I going to ask you out on a date?"
And the way he says it—it's almost like he doesn't think much of it at all. Is this the one year age gap between them? Is there some kind of generational gap between them that prevents him from understanding just how someone can be so nonchalant with asking someone out? Or is it just that Leehan is kind of unhinged and hiding a box of crazies behind his extremely good-looking exterior?
Riwoo stays silent for a few more beats. It's just the two of them in the studio now, and because his stomach has stopped churning, he can finally dedicate some energy into processing whatever the fuck this is.
"I can't," he finally exhales his response. "It's not about you. I'm just not in the right headspace for a relationship now."
Leehan considers this for a moment. "It doesn't have to be anything serious," he offers. "But if you really don't want to, I'll leave you alone."
Riwoo scoffs, but he's surprised when he realizes he's no longer thinking of rejecting it that vehemently anymore. "What's the the reason?"
"You're my type," Leehan answers smoothly with a smirk. A little too smoothly. Almost like he's been thinking about it too. "And I've never messed around with a guy before but... you make me curious."
"I'm not interested in becoming an experiment if that's what you're looking for.
"It's not an experiment, hyung," Leehan says, his voice dropping into a low, honeyed murmur. He glides two fingers up Riwoo's folded arms as he leans in closer, his breath warm as it tickles his hair by his ears. "I want you to show me the ropes."
Riwoo's breath hitches as he thinks of his resolutions, how he's looking for something with no strings attached. And, not to judge a book by its cover, but Leehan doesn't seem like the type to grow attached. He's young, untamed, like an untouched river tucked into a lush forest somewhere, wild and uncontained. An electrifying thrill snakes down his spine.
"So, what do you say?" Leehan has pulled back now, hands hanging over his thighs as he eases back into a squat. One side of his mouth is turned up with an all-knowing arrogance that surprisingly looks good on his face.
Fuck it. It's never good to think too long about these things anyway.
Riwoo nods slowly, cocking his head to one side. "Show you the ropes, huh? What's in it for me?"
"Don't you want to get over your ex? I can make you forget he ever existed."
Never once in a million years would Riwoo have pegged Leehan as the type to be so bold with his advances, be so comfortable in the way he propositions people without batting an eye. Though, if he's being completely honest with himself, the sheer brazenness of the boy leaves him wanting more.
"I think I'm up for the challenge."
(No, not really. He isn't, but he doesn't have to know that yet.)