Chapter Text
Renjun doesn’t turn around when the front door slams, flipping a page in his medical textbook listlessly. “How many did you do it with this time?”
The fridge door rattles, followed by the sound of a cap unscrewing. “Two.”
An eyebrow quirk. “Slow day for you, then?”
“At the same time.”
“Ah.”
Donghyuck sets the jug of orange juice down, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He sighs and smacks his lips happily. “Early class tomorrow Junnie, can’t have too much fun tonight.”
He makes his way over to the couch, jumping straight onto a mountain of papers that must’ve decimated a small forest somewhere. Renjun shrieks, lunging up to catch the pages flying everywhere. Donghyuck pays the chaos no regard, eyes shining with glee as he launches into a dramatic retelling of the events of the evening, starting all the way at the beginning from the open bar show he’d happened upon while out in the city.
“...and can you believe it? They even gave me a bath at the end!”
“Okay…” Renjun wrinkles his nose, having finally picked up all of his notes. “...creepy. It’s always the nice guys who turn out to be psychopaths, Hyuck, can’t you just stick to douchey jocks and frat boys like the rest of us?”
He gets a playful head ruffle in return, to which he protests vehemently.
Donghyuck coos. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.”
“You have issues.”
“Men have issues. That’s why I tend to not keep them around.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Except you, of course. You’re not so bad.”
“Gee thanks,” Renjun says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Honored to hold the dubious distinction of being the only decent man in your life.” He smacks down the air kiss thrown his way. “I can’t wait to see the day that changes.”
“It won’t.”
“I hope it will, for your sake.”
“Fine.” Donghyuck lifts up his pinky finger, grinning. “I’ll make sure to tell you if you’re ever right. And to rub it in when you’re inevitably wrong.”
“Good,” Renjun huffs, raising his own pinky as well. “Blessed be the day that someone comes along to make an honest man of you yet, and I’ll be all here for it.”
“Promise,” they say in unison, shaking on it.
___________________________________
Contrary to popular (his roommate’s) opinion, Donghyuck is a relatively upstanding human being. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he has an early class on Mondays, to which he diligently attends. Even when he goes out on the weekends, he makes sure to finish all his coursework beforehand, always ready for the start of the week despite how crazy he can get in the evenings. To those who know him on campus, he is a model student who’s diligent and dedicated, so much so that he even takes the time to visit his professors during their office hours on a regular basis every week.
“You really need to stop coming here,” Doyoung call-me-Professor-Kim grumbles, even as he purposely inclines his head towards an unopened pack of sour gummy worms sitting on his desk.
He squawks in mock offense when it’s sntached up, the sound of plastic tearing.
“Normally, yes, I have nothing better to do” Donghyuck says through a mouth full of worms, not mentioning how he’s literally right now missing the first half of Music Theory as they speak. He pinches another gummy between his fingers, biting its head off happily. “But as I seem to recall, today you called me.”
“That’s right,” Doyoung says, shifting gears immediately. “There’s a local artist putting together a demo reel, and it just so happens that they’re looking for an available vocalist.”
The sour gummy freezes on its way to Donghyuck’s mouth. “Wait, like, for a recording?”
“Exactly.” Doyoung nods. “And normally I’m quite stringent about such offers but it just so happens that this time it’s for a former student of mine, who did really well in the composition course, actually. Given what I’ve seen, I think he has potential to make it in the industry. He’s looking for someone to provide some backing vocals, and given the potential record deal I think it’d be a good chance for experience and exposure...”
He doesn’t realize that Donghyuck is only half listening at this point, mind running a mile a minute as he’s busy thinking and imagining. He’s already envisioning the whole process, getting to sit down with a senior to go over lyrics, help with the composition, and oversee the arrangement. He’d get to see and hopefully work in a real-life recording studio as a part of the holistic music-making process. Don’t get him wrong, Donghyuck definitely enjoys learning theory and applying concepts in class and whatnot, but like everyone says there’s nothing better than practical experience, especially for a music major like himself. To him, there could be no better opportunity.
“Yes,” he blurts, without even hearing all the details completely. “Yes, I’d love to do it, please let me do it.”
Doyoung claps, smiling. “Excellent. I thought you’d say that, so I’d previously already answered for you.” He checks his watch. “Ah! And he should be here now, so you two can meet.”
“What?” Donghyuck asks, eyebrows furrowing as he watches his teacher power-walk to the door, opening it expectantly. “Who?”
But he needn't have asked because the door is swinging wide open, quickly revealing the answer. There’s indeed someone waiting just outside, someone with a stance that’s incredibly familiar.
It’s not hard to recognize the jet black hair contrasting against pale skin, prominent cheekbones paired with eyebrows positioned to take flight. Even the clothing is familiar, making Donghyuck think for a second that he’s hallucinating this as some belated hangover.
It’s only been a few hours, but it somehow feels like they’re just now seeing each other for the first time, mirrored shock in their eyes. Donghyuck has to focus extra hard, not only to fully register who is standing in front of him but to also convince himself that this is real, and not just the byproduct of too much drinking or a post-coital dream. That this is truly happening, this is real, Donghyuck is here, and so is he.
He being, the one and only-
Mark Fucking Lee.
___________________________________
Encountering a one-night stand is awkward. Encountering a one-night stand in a public setting is very awkward. No matter where Donghyuck tries to look, his eyes inevitably stray to the just-noticeable rise of fabric in the other man’s jeans, memories quickly surfacing as to what hides underneath, and standing in a brightly-lit office in an academic building with his professor watching is really not where he wants to be perceiving such things.
Mark, for his part, doesn’t seem to be faring much better. It takes minimal effort to guess what he’s thinking, given the wandering eyes and crimson cheeks.
Doyoung frowns. “Do you two know each other?” he asks, in the tense silence.
Donghyuck snaps out of the impromptu staring contest and turns, smiling serenely. His voice is bright and honey sweet. “Nope, not at all.”
Mark jerks into action too, seemingly spurred on by Donghyuck’s words. He extends a hand forward awkwardly. “Hi, I’m Mark Lee.”
Donghyuck shakes it firmly, polite smile pasted on his face. He notes with interest that Mark’s hand is just as wiry and calloused as he remembers. “Donghyuck Lee” he says, raising an eyebrow amusedly. “We have the same last name.”
“Ah,” Mark says, then stops. Once again, there is silence.
Fortunately, Doyoung is oblivious. “Mark is my former student, who did really well in composition,” he explains proudly. “I hear you’ve been doing some open bar shows lately. That’s how they discovered you, correct?”
“Yeah,” Mark nods, clearing his throat. “I was doing a weekly Sunday show when this guy approached me. I didn’t believe him at first, but he gave me a business card and set up a call with the company. It all happened very fast, and pretty recently, actually,” his eyes go wide, turning to Donghyuck, “Actually, it was at the same place I met-”
Donghyuck shakes his head imperceptibly and Mark stops, pausing. “Err, where I met my friend, to tell him the good news.” he laughs, awkwardly.
“Anyways,” he continues, quickly. “The demo they’re looking for is mainly rap-focused but I want to incorporate vocals as well. Like, really feature them if possible. It’d be great to have them in the chorus and throughout any riffs at a minimum, but I’m always open to including more. If it’s good, I’d definitely want to have them everywhere.”
Donghyuck feels a pat on his shoulder, and he doesn’t have to look to know that Doyoung’s probably doing the proud dad thing again. He smirks, turning back to Mark.
“Well, why don’t I show you what you’re working with?”
___________________________________
Surprisingly, the rest of their meeting proceeds relatively uneventfully. Donghyuck easily secures his employment with Mark making the executive decision to have all the choruses be vocal-based. He also whips out a battered journal from seemingly nowhere when Donghyuck sings, scribbling furiously in it with every note. After several songs, a few spirited discussions, and a very smug Doyoung’s blessing, he eventually finishes unloading god-knows-what into his pseudo-Death Note and leaves, sharing his contact information and promising to be in touch once he’s fleshed out some things. For Donghyuck, he takes that to mean that for him, there’s nothing more that he could be doing.
At first, Donghyuck is patient. He doesn’t expect Mark to come up with the lyrics for his first ever demo on the spot, of course, even after the orgasmic experience of hearing Donghyuck sing live. He admits that he doesn’t really know Mark either, except for somewhat detailed specifications of only one body part in particular, but definitely not well enough to know how he works. Plus, technically the other boy still counts as a former one night stand and he never reaches out to any of those afterwards, so he’s not about to break his own rule and start now.
Therefore, Donghyuck waits. And on the fifth day of silence, which definitely does not bother him, he texts Renjun instead.
FULLSUN: junnie im bored
injunnie: k. go play w the pup
He sniffs, pocketing his phone and turning on his heel. The direction he goes is not one he walks regularly, only veering into this part of campus when he’s on his way to the campus store and it’s quicker to cut through. Today is an exception, however. It’s Friday, he has nothing better to do, and he’s tired of not thinking about not being contacted by a certain nobody. So he speed-walks onto the pitch, stands at the sideline with his hands on his hips, and yells.
“Jeno!”
Immediately, a dark head pops up above a mosh pit of sweaty bodies clustered in the center of the soccer pitch, swiveling in the direction of the sound before untangling from the spider web of uniforms and jogging over.
Jeno is drenched in his own sweat, rivulets sliding down every exposed surface of skin. He swipes at the bangs plastered to his forehead, eye-smile in full force as he regards Donghyuck cheerfully. “Surprised to see you here, didn’t think physical activity was your thing.”
“I do physical activity” Donghyuck retorts, leaning away as Jeno shakes his head like a dog, wet hair whipping around everywhere. Ugh, secondhand soccer boy sweat is the worst. “I just prefer to do it for a good cause. I don’t sweat for just a bunch of random jocks.”
“Well, you did for this one.”
A figure materializes behind Jeno, startling Donghyuck. The newcomer is clad in the same sports uniform, and just as sweaty. It only takes a second for Donghyuck to register, hit hard with Deja Vu for the second time this week.
Jaemin flashes his trademark smile, flexing his arms salaciously. “Hey there sexy, remember me?”
Donghyuck shakes his head vehemently, just as Jaemin winks.
Jeno stares at them. “Uhh, you guys know each other?”
“No,” Donghyuck says at the same time Jaemin chirps “yep,” popping the P.
“No,” Donghyuck says again, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean, I know of him. This campus isn’t that big. He’s...an acquaintance.”
Jaemin scoffs, throwing a hand to his chest dramatically. “Oh come on, I would say we’re way past that base, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Oh, yuck,” Jeno interjects, cringing. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means.” He points a finger at Donghyuck accusingly. “My friend, really?”
“Hey! I didn’t know he was your friend. I didn’t even know he went to our school” Donghyuck argues indignantly. “You’ve known me practically since birth and you know how I feel about jocks and yet you still accuse me, really?”
They bicker back and forth, both Donghyuck and Jeno long used to the routine. They’re so busy play-fighting with each other that they nearly miss the soft words spoken by Jaemin.
“Together since childhood, huh” Jaemin muses, looking thoughtful. “I have a friend like that.” He clears his throat, loudly. “But yeah, I agree - jocks are the worst.”
Jeno snaps to, pausing mid-sentence to raise an eyebrow curiously. “Nana, you’re a jock.”
“Yeah, but you know that I’m not really about that sports life. I only joined because Jisung asked me to.”
“Jisung is a freshman new-joiner,” Jeno explains helpfully, seeing the confusion on Donghyuck’s face. “Their dorm hosted a friendly soccer match for welcome week and apparently, Jaemin was too good because he was, quote-unquote, ‘subjected to the most pitiful puppy-dog eyes he’d ever seen’ until he agreed to try out for the team.”
“That kid is too dangerously cute,” Jaemin mutters darkly.
“Well, we’re glad he used it against you. You are pretty good.”
“I’m decent,” Jaemin says modestly, shrugging. “I think they just let me join in the middle of the year because they needed another sucker to pay dues for the training camp.”
Jeno rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny it. “Jaemin is rich, you should see his car.”
“Hmm” Donghyuck hums, a plan starting to take shape in his head. He did say he’s willing to sweat for a cause, and he thinks he’s just found one. And it’ll be a fun one, at that. “So, how good are you, really?”
Jeno makes to answer again, but Jaemin beats him to it this time. “Enough,” he says, mouth curling as he sees the challenge in Donghyuck’s eyes. “Why?”
“Well, how about a little friendly competition?”
“Between you and me?” Jaemin points between the both of them, smiling wider. “Sure, what’s the stakes?”
“I’ll tell you after, keep the mystery alive.”
“Alright,” Jaemin agrees immediately, full on beaming now. “You’re on. But you do realize that you’re playing against a varsity soccer player, correct?”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
“Good,” Jaemin says, holding a hand out. “Then I look forward to bringing you to your knees.”
When they shake on it, Donghyuck hears the again muttered clear as day.
They straighten up, staring each other in the eye. Jeno looks between them amusedly.
“Alright,” he says, walking backwards onto the pitch as Donghyuck rolls up his sleeves, following. “Then, let’s get started.”
___________________________________
Jaemin collapses face first into the ground, winded, as a shadow looms above him ominously.
“I win,” Donghyuck chirps, alternating dribbling the ball on each knee in victory.
“How is this possible?” Jaemin groans in disbelief.
“Hyuck played for twelve years before he dropped out for theater our junior year” Jeno calls nonchalantly from where he’s sprawled out along the sidelines. “He could probably captain this team, if he wanted.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.” Jeno answers, yawning. “But that’s actually why he hates jocks so much, it’s because he was one. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“Good to know,” Jaemin mutters into the dirt as the sound of laughter echoes around him.
___________________________________
“Where are you going?”
Donghyuck hums. He gestures to his black tee, black shorts, and black bucket hat pointedly, stuffing his feet into his signature rainbow Converse. “Out” he answers, then bursts out the door.
Right on cue, a car pulls into the curve of their apartment’s driveway, stopping right next to the curb. It idles there for a few seconds, clearly waiting. When it’s clear that nothing is happening, the driver side door pops open, its occupant hopping out and coming round to open the passenger side before physically manhandling Donghyuck into the seat.
Donghyuck’s voice is nothing more than a whisper, mouth too busy drooling. “This...is a Bugatti.”
“It is.”
“But...you’re a college student.”
“I am.”
Donghyuck’s brain nearly short circuits trying to figure out how a college student and a Bugatti can be associated with each other in the same reality. The more he thinks about it, the less sense it makes. He noodles uselessly in circles until finally the metaphorical light bulb goes off, two brain cells rubbing together to eventually reach the only logical conclusion.
He clears his throat, bowing deeply. “Thank you for having me, your highness.”
Jaemin scoffs. “I wish,” he says, despite looking quite regal indeed as he casually leans back in his luxurious bucket seat. “If I was royalty, I wouldn’t bother with this school stuff.”
“You mean you don’t have some kingdom or conglomerate just waiting for you to inherit one day?”
“Nah, my parents are just generous.” He turns to Donghyuck, smiling. “Now, if only they could see what their precious son is doing.”
“I was expecting a good car, like Jeno said, not a moving mobile trust fund. This is not what I had in mind when I asked for a free ride after winning the game.” He squints out the window, watching the wrong landmarks zoom by. “Also, you’re going the wrong way.”
The car is thrown into a harrowing U-turn, tires squealing as they pivot on a dime before accelerating in the opposite direction.
Donghyuck grips his seatbelt for dear life, eyes wide. “Are you crazy?!”
Jaemin doesn’t answer, grinning madly. He drives one-handed, foot pressed firmly to the floor as they go 60 in a 30 zone, the outside world whipping by as though they’re about to take flight.
Donghyuck has never regretted winning so much in his life.