Chapter Text
Daeyoung put his phone on silent. Sion needed a job. Or a hobby. Or anything that would keep him from texting Daeyong twenty times a day, littering his notifications with almost incomprehensible nonsense. Daeyoung had a job. A sixty hour a week job that more than occasionally didn’t leave him with enough time to sleep or shower, let alone try to decipher whatever was going on with Sion back in Vegas. He’d thought that Sion would be in good hands, or at least good company, by letting him live in the apartment with Riku, but apparently Sion had decided that Riku was the key to unlocking the mysteries of his heart and Daeyoung had been unwillingly appointed the key to unlocking mysteries of Riku. It was a mess. A mess that he didn’t feel like cleaning up on a rare evening off, when the weather was absolutely perfect, even for San Diego, and the vibes at the kombucha bar were too good for Daeyoung to sour them with Sion.
Sion would just have to wait. Daeyong wanted to have a drink and not worry about needing to work in the morning. He wanted to sit outside in the last of the daylight and talk to the people who were going to be his colleagues for another three months at least and try to make some actual friends. Travelling nurse gigs were great for the bank account and for the wanderlust, but less so for the social life. He understood. In their line of work, it could be tricky to find time for actual family and friends. Carving out space for someone who was so likely to be nothing more than temporary probably felt like too much of an ask.
But Daeyoung was going to be in San Diego for awhile longer, the ink still fresh on his contract renewal with UCSD Medical Center, and Daeyoung thought there was no time like the present to sit down next to the women who had worked with him day in and day out for the last two months and ask if anyone needed another round. He was rewarded with smiles. A pat on the back, a smattering of orders and a single laughing remark that Daeyoung was such a sweetheart. It was a good start. Daeyoung hoped that by the end of the night he would have done enough that this first invitation to join the nursing crew out on the town wouldn’t be his last.
Three rounds and one sunset later, Daeyoung had given up his sweatshirt to the charge nurse, Nancy, but had been invited to her house for dinner whenever he next had a night off. She’d hinted that her daughter could be invited, if a handsome young guy like Daeyoung was interested in meeting new people. Better a nurse than a doctor, Nancy said, a little loose around the edges after her last glass of Juneshine. Daeyoung thought that much was probably true, even as he dodged the compliment and the connection, telling Nancy that he tried not to date when he was on contract. He said nothing about what he did for a single night. Or maybe two, three at most. He got attached too easily, had a hard time letting go. It was just self-preservation, he said, sipping something that tasted like passion fruit and guava, a very San Diego taste, something that wouldn’t have gone down the same in Sacramento or Vegas, the places he was supposed to call home.
“Trying not to break my own heart,” Daeyoung murmured, cheeks warmed from the alcohol and the stand heater that had kicked on once the sun disappeared. “I’m a romantic,” Daeyoung confessed, bringing something soft into a group of people who did work that was so hard. It was a little bit of a cheat, baring some of his soul, but Daeyoung wasn’t above it, not when six faces leaned a little bit closer so they could hear him sigh, “Isn’t that the worst?”
“Cheers to that.” Miyako clinked her glass against his. She smiled and Daeyoung knew he’d won her over, too, tipping her scales from colleague to confidant. “Take it from someone older and wiser only by way of making extremely poor choices – keep it casual. For as long as possible.” Miyako tossed her drink back and stared at Daeyoung until he did the same, the carbonation burning down his throat. “Don’t date. Don’t even let them spend the night.”
Daeyoung smoothed his hands down his jeans and nodded. It wouldn’t do to disagree with her advice, even if he thought it was easier said than done – being casual, keeping things light when Daeyoung sometimes thought that what he needed the most was someone who understood the heavy.
“It’s good to be young, honey, enjoy it while you can,” Luz chimed in, even though Daeyoung knew she was married with three kids because she taped pictures of her family all over the inside of her locker. She smiled at Daeyoung, reaching over to pat his cheek, her wedding ring glinting beneath the string of fairy lights.
“I will,” Daeyoung said, laughing as Luz poured half of what was left in her glass into his so they could all raise a toast to Daeyoung’s no strings attached future in San Diego. “In the six free waking hours I have each week, I’ll try my best to enjoy it.”
“Good for you, baby.” Nancy ruffled his hair and gave him a look fond enough that it made him miss his older brothers, who had never once called him a name as nice as baby, but who had always had his back. “We need to live vicariously.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll work extra hard.”
Daeyoung melted into the arm that wrapped around his shoulders, happy to be let into the fold, tipsy and warm and pleased with how the evening had gone as his new friends laughed and started to make suggestions about who he should take home on their behalf. He had just committed to a one night stand with Jacob Elordi when the laughter stopped. Daeyoung looked over Miyako’s shoulder to see what had stolen Nancy’s attention and saw that it wasn’t so much a what as a who.
The doctors had shown up. With the third med students in tow, hovering around their overlords like ducklings waiting to be told to get back in the pond. Daeyong pinched the inside of his arm and told himself to be nice, to try and remember not all doctors just because he’d had more than his fair share of bad experiences. It hadn’t been easy, sitting in lecture halls full of students who wanted to go pre-med as a guy who wanted to be an RN instead of an MD.
Miyako nudged him beneath the picnic table and tipped her head towards the three med students who were standing around, as awkward as they had been on their first set of rounds, exactly six days ago, when Daeyoung came into work and found himself face to face with someone he almost used to know.
“Don’t you know him?”
Daeyoung didn’t need to ask who. The who in question was looking at Daeyoung with that same perplexed, slightly hunted expression that haunted shared classrooms and study groups throughout undergrad. It was still surprising that someone could be that good looking while looking vaguely offput by the rest of the world.
“Yeah,” Daeyoung said, suddenly wanting another drink. “I know Yushi.” Yushi’s lashes fluttered like he’d heard his name, even though Daeyoung was certain they were too far apart, the crowd too loud, not unlike the night they’d met, a party junior year at Sion’s frat house. “We went to Davis together.”
“Are you going to say hi?” Miyako’s foot was tapping against his, her lips curled up in a little smile as Yushi took a step in their direction. “He looks like he’s coming over here.”
“Later, maybe.” Daeyoung shrugged and stood up. He wanted that drink. “We weren’t super close. I haven’t talked to him since graduation.”
“Huh. He talked about you when I was on rounds with Dr. Kim. I’m pretty sure you were the only thing he talked about that wasn’t medicine.”
“He’s always been a little reserved, I guess,” Daeyoung said, even if that wasn’t really the word he would have used if he’d been talking to Sion or someone else who used to know Yushi back in the day. “He probably didn’t know what else to talk about.”
“Sure, you know him better than me.”
He didn’t really. He’d shared a total of seven classes with Yushi over years of undergrad, three study groups and one night that he could only half remember because it had been the last day of the Pre-Health conference at UCSF and he’d never been out in the Castro before. He really hadn’t talked to Yushi since then. They didn’t even follow one another on socials. He’d heard through the grapevine that he’d gotten into all the med schools he wanted except one. Daeyoung glanced at Yushi and wondered if it had been the one. The one he’d wanted most. He wondered. San Diego wasn’t Boston, that was for sure, and yet here Yushi was, unexpectedly crossing into Daeyoung’s wandering path.
He cracked his neck and asked Miyako if she wanted another, telling himself that it was totally normal to be curious about an old classmate. It had been years since he’d seen Yushi. He could have changed since graduation and Daeyoung would be seeing him around the hospital for the next few months as Yushi worked his way through the core rotations. He wondered if Yushi has loosened up at all, learned how to make small talk without looking like he wanted to do anything but. Daeyoung hoped so. It could be nice to have someone around who knew him from before. He stood up, taking his thoughts about Yushi with him towards the bar.
The crowd inside had gotten bigger in the two hours he’d been sitting outside getting toasted. There was a line two people deep to get to the bar for another pour. A group of guys was playing pool and he was pretty sure that he counted more than one first date happening in the mix. Daeyoung waited his turn, standing behind a couple of women who smiled at him when they left, San Diego beach-blond hair tumbling over shoulders that were still tanned even though it was already October. They were pretty, in the way that most people in San Diego were pretty. Daeyoung wasn’t going to follow the invitation in their gaze, but he filed it away, something he could pull out and remember the next time he didn’t get asked out for a second date.
He stepped up to the bar, readying his best smile to try and win over the bartender who moved at a pace that wasn’t busy enough, chilled out and slow, following the sunset vibes instead of the reality of a place that was almost at capacity. An elbow bumped into his arm. Daeyoung looked over, his best smile curling into something middling and not nearly good enough.
“Can I get this round?” Yushi said, so softly that Daeyoung mostly filled in the blanks between can and round.
Yushi wasn’t smiling at all. He looked tired in the way that all med students looked tired one week into rotations, but he looked as good in his jeans and pink t-shirt as he did in the blue scrubs and the short white coat. His hair was dark again, a stark contrast from the bleach job he’d gotten just before graduation like he wanted attention, even though he’d always had it, the guy in their classes that everyone was too intimidated to ask out on a date. Once, on a hot afternoon in June, pomp and circumstance blaring in the background, Daeyoung sat next to Sion on the field at Golden 1 Center and wondered what his classmates would say if they knew that he’d probably been something close to Yushi’s first, given the way the clumsy way that he kissed, how fast he’d come when Daeyoung touched him above his clothes.
“Daeng.”
Daeyoung’s heart tripped. No one called him that, not any more, unless he was talking to his family or Sion. Yushi put his hand on the bar. It looked delicate next to Daeyoung’s, thinner fingers that were probably made for things like surgery. Yushi licked his lips and looked over Daeyoung’s shoulder like he couldn’t be bothered with eye contact and asked again:
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Daeyoung was too polite to say no even though he could have insisted on covering it because he made a salary and Yushi was probably deep into med school debt. Next time, he would. If there was a necessity for the next time.
“Sure, thanks.” Daeyoung smiled because smiling was part of accepting a drink. “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”
Yushi ordered. Daeyoung watched the bartender lean over to try and catch what he was saying, her head bobbing up and down as she finally did, giving them both a thumbs up as Yushi tapped his phone against the reader and went back to looking anywhere but at Daeyoung.
Daeyong took the drinks. It was a reflex. He was used to carrying for others and doctors in particular. Two glasses of a nice vibrant orange that smelled sweeter than what he’d been drinking before. Yushi stood there, like he hadn’t thought about what came next. Daeyoung wondered how long it had been since Yushi had been out. He’d heard over and over about how hard it was on med students, that they only really hooked up with each other because there was no time or energy to find anyone else.
“Let’s sit.”
Daeyong pushed his way through the throngs, aiming for the last corner of a long table that was still open. He could have gone back outside, could have taken Yushi to meet the crew, but Daeyoung didn’t want to mix it up, his past and his present. He sat on the high stool and knew that this was better for now, something apart. Yushi sat down across from him and they were alone in a crowded room for the first time in years. The music was quieter, this time, at least. The hard kombucha was less potent than the vodka that had made every bad idea seem good.
Daeyoung lifted his glass in a toast, just to do something to break the ice since Yushi didn’t seem inclined.
“Welcome to rotations,” Daeyoung said, watching Yushi take a delicate sip, his cheeks puckering at the first hit of sour. “I hope your first week was alright.”
Yushi nodded, his hands wrapped around his glass. Daeyoung waited to see if he would say more. Or say anything at all. Daeyoung tried what Yushi had ordered for them. Orange and something, still good, even though he was starting to crave the bitterness of beer or the nothingness of liquor after so much sweet and sour.
“So, you’re really a -“
“So, UCSD Med —“
Daeyoung laughed and waved for Yushi to go on. It tracked that Yushi would pick the exact wrong moment to finally decide to speak.
“You’re really a nurse,” Yushi said, running his finger along the bottom of the glass.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Daeyoung looked out the window at his colleagues — friends — splitting a pizza and laughing as they pulled slice after slice out of the box and passed them around. “I always said that’s what I was going to do after school.”
Three study groups and all those classes and Daeyoung had never once wavered. He wanted to help people, and he wanted to do it without a million more years of school and a million dollars of debt. It had always made sense to him, even if it never seemed to make sense to anyone else.
“I thought you might change your mind,” Yushi was gazing at him now, his expression softer than Daeyoung remembered. “You had the grades for it.”
“For what?” Daeyoung asked.
Yushi shifted on his stool, his face a little flush. It was warm in the bar, the crush of bodies raising the temperature. Yushi didn’t like crowds, Daeyoung knew, not unless he was in the middle of it, surrounded by friends to push back against the waves.
“Med school,” Yushi murmured. “If you’d wanted it, you probably could have had it.”
Deep down, Daeyoung knew it was probably intended as a compliment, an awkward approval of Daeyoung’s intelligence.
“And yet here we are,” Daeyoung said, still smiling as he went for another taste of the drink Yushi had barely touched. “At UCSD Medical. Together.” Yushi’s lashes lowered. Daeyoung swallowed alcohol that was starting to remind him too much of Orange Crush and laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. “I didn’t think you’d end up stuck on the West Coast.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” Yushi said, his sudden smile a shock to the system. “Maybe it was meant to be.”
“Maybe.” Daeyoung was too stunned to do anything but agree. “At least temporarily.”
Yushi touched the edge of his pretty smile with his thumb, biting on the corner of his nail as he said that even if rotations wouldn’t last forever, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He had at least two more years in San Diego before it was time to go for a residency.
Daeyoung finished a drink that was definitely going down too sweet and gave Yushi a version of his usual it’s not you, it’s me speech that he gave to the occasional guy who actually seemed to want something more, tweaking it around the edges because Yushi was just an old friend, or something close to it, not someone who had his heart set on Daeyoung.
It went like this. Daeyoung explained that he was the one who was temporary. A transient, a traveling nurse on a good contract, Daeyoung said, starting to feel more than a little fuzzy around the edges, strangely bereft when he couldn’t see Yushi’s teeth any more because Yushi had stopped smiling and started slow sipping at a drink that had to be lukewarm by now.
“I live in Vegas,” Daeyoung said, “when I live anywhere. I have an apartment off the Strip but Sion is living there right now. Subletting, or whatever. ” Daeyoung wasn’t sure why he was saying all of this to Yushi, but he couldn’t stop. “Do you remember Sion?” Yushi shrugged, staring blankly at a water stain on the table. “Really good looking, Sig Ep president? Followed me around a lot?”
“Sig Ep?”
“Fraternity. Sion’s fraternity,” Daeyoung said, leaning down to catch Yushi’s gaze. “You went to a party there at least once.” Yushi looked vaguely scandalized, like he couldn’t imagine that his past self had done something like go to a frat party. “I know you did,” Daeyoung murmured, “because that was the first time we met.”
Yushi shook his head, slowly and deliberately. “I don’t think so.”
“I know so,” Daeyoung said, craning his neck to look at the menu above the bar in the hopes of finding a decent IPA on the list. “You were with a bunch of other pre-med guys. Seniors, I think.” Yushi gave him a blank look. “Maybe you were really wasted,” Daeyoung said. It had been a frat party. “Maybe that’s why you don't remember.”
“I remember that night.” Yushi shook his head again. “But that wasn’t the first time we met. I met you at orientation,” Yushi said, smiling faintly. “You made room for me at a crowded lunch table when I didn’t know anyone. I was standing there. I didn’t know what to do and you pulled me down by the strap of my bag and told me to make myself at home.”
Daeyoung rubbed his hand down chest. He thought that was the most that Yushi had ever said to him in one go that had nothing to do with school. He wanted to say that he remembered that it sounded like something he would do because it was the kind of thing he wanted to do, the kind of person he tried to be, but he had no memory. Those first weeks of school were a blur of trying to not to be homesick, of trying to fake it until he made it. He couldn’t believe that Yushi remembered it, a small moment that came years before they met again at Sion’s trashy frat house.
“Sorry, I don’t remember that at all.” Daeyoung tugged on the collar of his shirt. He wanted some air. Or another drink. Both, maybe. “It was so long ago and there were so many people around.”
“Why would you remember?” Yushi murmured, pushing his half-finished glass towards Daeyoung. “I’m positive I didn’t say a single word to anyone.” Yushi gestured for Daeyoung to take it, to have the rest. “You introduced yourself as Daeyoung Kim, a biological sciences major living in Segundo and to find you on socials if I ever needed anything.” Daeyoung took the drink. It was lukewarm, it was too sweet, but he was feeling desperate. Yushi smiled, cupping his chin in his palm. “I found you later that afternoon on Instagram, but I was too shy to ever reach out.”
Daeyoung beat back the urge to pull out his phone and see if Yushi was telling the truth, to scroll through the hundreds of followers that had piled up over the years and try and guess which one was Yushi. He drank Yushi’s not very good kombucha instead and tried to understand what he was supposed to do with the revision to their limited history.
“I’m going to the bar,” Daeyoung said, starting to push back his stool. “Do you want –”
“Sorry to interrupt, honey.” Luz’s hand landed on his shoulder, her voice bright and loud over the din of the crown. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I’m heading out.”
“Oh, yeah, sure, no problem,” Daeyoung said, feeling his cheeks turn warm as Yushi gave Luz a polite little nod and half smile.
Daeyoung turned away from Yushi and his soft-eyed expression. It was easier to look at Luz, who was bundling him into a one-armed hug and thanking him for taking her shift on Tuesday even though it meant that Daeyoung would be working two doubles midweek. Daeyoung leaned into her hug because her perfume was the same as his mother’s and because he meant it when he said it was no problem at all because family came first and she couldn’t miss her kid’s play. Luz patted his cheek and promised to take him out to a really good lunch to make up for it and then she was gone, leaving Daeyoung feeling guilty that he hadn’t called his mom all week.
“You’re so kind.”
“I’m just trying to do her a favor,” Daeyoung said, staring ahead at the long line to get the bar. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear that kind of thing from Yushi, who didn’t really know him, who had never been impressed before. “I figure what goes around comes around, right?”
“Well, then you must have a lot coming to you.” Yushi touched his elbow, a barely there brush of fingers just below the hem of Daeyoung’s shirt. “Don’t you think so?”
Daeyoung shrugged and put his hands in the pockets of the one pair of going out jeans that he bothered to bring with him when he went on contract. There was never any time to go out. Never any point in getting ready to go on dates that couldn’t go anywhere. He was better at stripping off than dressing up.
“Do you want another?”
“If you want.”
Yushi let go of his sleeve. Daeyoung sighed. He wanted to drink but the line was long and he had missed out on the pizza and if he drank more on an empty stomach he was going to be messy enough to make bad choices.
“I want, but I also need to eat.” He stood on his toes to see over the crowd and get a sense of the line for the food truck parked out front. “Maybe I should go get in line –”
“Daeng. I can make you something.”
Daeyoung’s heels touched the ground. Yushi wasn’t looking at him but the tops of his ears were red.
“Like, what, at your place?”
“Yeah.” Yushi shuffled closer and Daeyoung wondered why he thought it was weird that Yushi was wearing flip-flops, that he could see Yushi’s naked feet, his bare toes moving back and forth over the same kind of worn leather pool shoes that everyone in San Diego wore. “I’m pretty good at making ramen,” Yushi murmured, “if you’re hungry. If that’s good enough for you.”
Daeyoung’s stomach clenched. He was hungry, but he wasn’t sure if he could eat. Not now, not when he was fairly certain that he was being propositioned by someone that he used to know, by someone he’d thought he’d never see again because Yushi was supposed to be in Massachusetts, suffering at Harvard instead of going sleepless in San Diego. Yushi touched his elbow again. His fingers were still soft, not yet dried out from too many gloves and too much soap. He was still so new to playing doctor. He had weeks to go before he would learn to keep lotion in his bag, in his car, in his locker, in the drawer beside the bed.
Daeyoung’s hands were cracked and dry. He had months to go on a contract just renewed. He couldn’t get attached. He looked at Yushi, who couldn’t look at him, and thought that maybe he could do this. They’d done it before and nothing had come of it. Daeyoung was bad at casual, but he thought he could make it work if there was no risk of feelings, no chance of falling in love. Yushi was beautiful and in the wrong place at the right time. Maybe it was fate. Daeyoung decided. If Yushi was down, Daeyoung was down.
“Definitely good enough,” Daeyoung said, pulling his rough hands out of his pockets so he could make a circle around Yushi’s wrist and let him feel what it was to be touched by a real nurse. “If you’re offering, I could definitely eat.
~~
There was a shot on the bar. A distant, smarter, currently submerged and drowned out voice tried to tell him that it was a bad idea to take it when he’d skipped out on the closing keynote and dinner so he could go out dancing. Daeyoung took the shot. He was already deaf and dumb and blind to good judgment, twenty-one, almost twenty-two, two months from graduation and on his last night in San Francisco. He wanted to drink. He wanted to dance. He wanted to laugh and throw his arms around the shoulders of the people who had been his friends for the last few years, who had helped him through O-Chem and Calc and nursing school applications. He was flying so high on the thrill and the terror of almost being out in the real world that he didn’t even care that the pre-meds had come along, cramming themselves into another Uber and spilling out into the same bar in the Castro.
It had actually been kind of fun, letting go, letting go of all the bullshit that wasn’t going to matter once they turned their tassels and emptied out of Davis for good. It didn’t matter now, not on the dance floor, not when they were all partying on what felt like borrowed time. They were there to have fun, to forget about MCATS and letters of recommendation and rejection after rejection after years of trying so hard to be the best that they’d stepped all over one another. Daeyoung swallowed the tequila that someone had bought because they were at that stage where tequila seemed like the right choice – the best choice – and laughed when Yushi held up a lime, taking it between his lips and sucking before asking where, exactly, Yushi was hiding the salt.
Two hours later, Daeyoung pressed a card that wasn’t his to a keypad that wasn't his either. He could still taste tequila and lime and he still wanted salt. Yushi’s arms shook when Daeyoung put them around his neck and asked Yushi if he was sure that he was hiding some in his room, if he was sure that he wanted Daeyoung to take a look and try to find it. Yushi nodded, his chin tipping up. Daeyoung laughed and put his hand up Yushi’s shirt, a little surprised when Yushi gasped like Daeyoung’s hands were freezing because Daeyoung knew that he was hot all over – from the dancing, from the drinking, from the way that Yushi had looked at him when Daeyoung took the keycard out of Yushi’s pocket and said yeah, he was ready to leave, he was good to go, he’d make sure Yushi got back safely to bed.
He was a clumsy kisser, for someone who could be so meticulous. Daeyoung laughed a little when Yushi moaned and clung to him over something as simple as a flick of the tongue, a barely there invitation to a deeper kiss. He wondered if it had been awhile, if Yushi had been too caught up in the books to hook-up, to do the kinds of things that Daeyoung did with random guys off Grindr, no names, no expectations, just enough fun to make it through 200 pages of reading before Friday afternoon.
He knew way more than Yushi’s name. They’d slogged through the same 200 pages in the same classes but Daeyoung had no expectations of someone who didn’t seem to expect anything from Daeyoung other than comparing notes, who was going to be gone from his life in less than a month. It was fine, it was fun, it was a Friday night in San Francisco and Yushi was grinding on Daeyoung’s thigh like he was so ready for it.
Daeyoung cupped Yushi’s chin and moved him through the kiss while he moved them both across the room. Yushi clung to him when Daeyoung tried to lay him down. The bed rumbled with laughter as Daeyoung fell, tumbling into Yushi as Yushi tumbled to the blankets and sheets. Yushi begged to be kissed, needier than Daeyoung would have guessed for someone who walked around with an expression like he couldn’t be bothered. He was bothered now, hot and bothered beneath Daeyoung, clutching at Daeyoung’s waist and pressing wet, messy kisses onto Daeyoung’s lips.
Daeyoung didn’t mind being needed. He didn’t mind the thrust of Yushi’s hips, the sting of Yushi’s teeth on his bottom lip. He knew how to meet needs. He was good at this kind of thing, rocking into Yushi’s anxious, offbeat roll, trying to help Yushi remember the right rhythms. It was easy to murmur encouragement when Yushi moaned, breaking his almost silence for the first time since the door had closed.
You’re so hot, you feel so good, I want to touch you, I want to get inside you, I want to see you come for me.
Daeyoung said it all, said all the things that people wanted to hear as he moved a little faster, a little bit harder, so deep into the daydream of fucking Yushi until he finally got to lick salt from his fingers that he almost missed it when it happened. Yushi grabbed at Daeyoung pushing and pulling all at once like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to crawl inside of Daeyoung or run three states away. Daeyoung asked what was wrong. Yushi turned his face into the pillow and came in his pants, soaking his underwear before they had a chance to really touch.
Daeyoung was surprised. Almost at a loss for what to do until Yushi started to apologize, shy and cringing, hiding his face beneath his arm and his crotch beneath a pillow.
“It’s okay,” Daeyoung said, using his other bedside voice as he stroked Yushi’s hair back from his forehead and tried not to stare at the stain on Yushi’s jeans. “Seriously, don’t worry, it happens to us all when it’s been a long time.” Yushi shook his head. Daeyoung kissed the space he cleared and laughed. “Don’t stress, baby, I really don’t mind.”
Yushi’s eyes stayed squeezed shut. Daeyoung asked if he wanted to get cleaned up, if he wanted Daeyoung to go get a towel or something. Yushi put his hand on Daeyoung’s hip and didn’t answer the question, telling Daeyoung not to go, not to leave. Daeyoung took what he thought was the hint, the unspoken request to get on with it. He took Yushi’s hand from his hip and brought it to his mouth, spitting into Yushi’s palm before unbuttoning his jeans and sliding Yushi’s pretty fingers into his underwear. Yushi’s lip was caught between his teeth. Daeyoung wanted to kiss him while he fucked Yushi’s fist, his own hand curled around Yushi’s too delicate grip to show him how he liked it done.
Daeyoung whispered that he wanted to be kissed, that he wanted Yushi to stop worrying, to let go and let Daeyoung kiss him again. Yushi’s kiss was just as messy, too much tongue and not enough deep breaths, but Daeyoung liked it anyway, the feeling of Yushi’s wet fingers on his dick, the feeling of Yushi’s too wet lips pressing hesitant kisses on his chin, on his jaw, almost anywhere that he could reach. Daeyoung came in minutes, even though the handjob was as artless as the kissing, making a mess of his boxers so that he could kiss Yushi’s knuckles when it was all said and done and say that they were a matching set now.
Yushi turned away from him, so Daeyoung let him be, left him to disappear into the bathroom, stripping out of what was left of his clothes and falling asleep to the sound of the shower, the last of the tequila taking him fully under. In the morning, hungover and a little perplexed to find himself naked in bed with the last person he’d thought would want to fuck him, Daeyoung took the elevator down to the breakfast buffet in jeans that chafed because he’d ruined his underwear to try and make Yushi feel better.
He didn’t know if it had helped. In the light of morning he thought maybe it didn’t matter either way. They were graduating soon. Daeyoung would go his way and Yushi would follow his manifest destiny. An hour before the bus was scheduled to take them back to Davis. Daeyoung left a muffin wrapped in a Holiday Inn napkin on the bedside table and shoved his boxers into his back pocket, leaving Yushi face down in a pillow and wondered how Yushi’s expression was somehow uncertain even in his sleep.