Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Remember to call or text us as often as you can. I know that seven hours in time difference isn’t that much, but it’s still going to be awkward trying to catch up with each other.” 

Yunho resists the urge to roll his eyes as Seonghwa hovers around him, hands flitting and eyes anxious as people mill around them. The four of them (the other two being Yunho’s other best friends: Yeosang and San, the former of who is Seonghwa’s boyfriend) are standing off to the side of the security gates of Terminal 1 of the Incheon International Airport.

“Yes, hyung. I will.” Yunho huffs, letting Seonghwa mother-bird over him. “We don’t have to call each night, Seonghwa. It’s going to be difficult, anyways, and you guys still need rest.”

“Still.” Seonghwa insists.

Yunho sighs, letting his thumbs slide beneath the straps of his backpack, fingers curling around the padded fabric tightly. He’s admittedly anxious, since this is not only his first time flying alone, but it’s also his first time flying outside of the country too, and it’s going to be to a wholly different continent. He’s been practicing his basic German, but he’s honestly struggling a lot.

“Let us know when you land, too!” San chirps, throwing strong and burly arms over Yunho’s shoulders, nearly knocking Yunho’s bucket hat off his head, draping himself over the taller man’s body, nuzzling their cheeks together. Yunho feels himself relax a little bit, slumping slightly into San’s warmth.

“I will.” Yunho promises with a small smile, ruffling San’s hair, causing the younger man to jerk back with a yelp, hands flying up to tame his hair with a pout, a slight flush rising to his cheeks.

“You know where you’re going once you disembark from the plane?” Seonghwa draws Yunho’s attention back to him. “You know how to get to campus? You have your map and everything?”

“Jagiya, you know that Yunho’s a responsible adult.” Yeosang slides into the conversation, slipping an arm around Seonghwa’s waist. Seonghwa sighs, letting his head thump onto the top of Yeosang’s. “You’re not the only one who’s nervous about this.” Yeosang redirects his attention to Yunho now that Seonghwa isn’t hovering. “Keep us updated, yeah? You have a layover at some point, right?”

“Yeah, in Frankfurt.” Yunho nods. He glances at the watch on his wrist. It’s just about eight thirty in the morning, and his flight isn’t for another two and a half hours. He’s not really looking forward to being on a plane for the next sixteen or so hours.

“We should take some photos before you leave!” San suggests, with a hopeful smile. Seonghwa has already taken out his phone so he can snap a couple of photos, and Yunho goes along with it, tugging his mask down to smile, because he also wants to have some photos to look at while he’s on the plane and while he’s a semester abroad.

Eventually, Yunho needs to go find his gate, so he wraps his friends up in an individual hug, though San does cling to him a little longer than he normally does, looking like a sad and gloomy kitty. Yunho reaches out to card his fingers gently through San’s hair, offering him a small smile.

“I’m not going away forever, Sannie. It’s just a semester.”

“I know.” San sighs, staring down at his feet, shoulders slumped. “I’m gonna miss you a lot, Yunnie.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Yunho draws San back in for another brief hug, pressing a light kiss to the crown of his head, and San lets out a soft, shuddering sigh. “I’ll keep in contact, yeah?”

“Yeah.” San pulls back, reluctantly, and Yunho makes sure that he has a good grip on his duffel bag, readjusting his backpack before he glances over at the line in security.

“Do you have your passport and ticket?” Seonghwa asks, and Yeosang groans.

“Yes, it’s in my backpack.” Yunho says, before he slips it off one shoulder to dig through his backpack to show Seonghwa. He zips his backpack back up and keeps his passport and ticket tucked in his hand. “I’ll be fine, Hwa. I promise. I’ll let you guys know when I’m at the gate and when I’m boarding.” Yunho promises.

He feels teary when he eventually walks away, glancing back to see his friends watching him as he winds his way down the pathway to get to the security check. He waves, and they wave back. Yunho glances back ahead and expels a long breath. He’s anxious, but he thinks he’s ready.

Yunho gets through the security check without a hitch, and glances around the terminal. He knows what gate he needs to get to, so he follows the signs, stopping to buy a couple bottles of stupidly overpriced water, and continues on his way. He ends up putting his headphones on so he can try to center himself, antsy and anxious now that he’s left alone.

It’s not like the airport is awfully busy, but there’s still a lot of people and children and there are still the nerves of being alone, and knowing that he’s going to be all by himself soon in a foreign country makes him nervous. He knows that he’s supposed to be meeting a student at the university who’s also Korean, and they’d been selected to be Yunho’s tour guide slash buddy to help him get settled into his new temporary life. He hasn’t gotten in contact with the student yet, though, and has no idea when he will be.

He’s arriving a little earlier – something he’s planned out with the school – and he’ll be moving into the residential buildings. If he understood the email properly, he has his own single room, but it’s within a shared residence of several more people. He runs a nervous hand through his hair as he walks down the long airport halls, reciting the basic terms and questions in his head. His English isn’t great, but it’s better than trying to communicate with broken and shitty German.

Hallo and Tschüss are hello and goodbye.

Danke is thank you.

Bitte is please, but it can also mean you’re welcome.

Wie heißt du is asking for someone’s name.

Entschuldigung, something that Yunho cannot figure out how to pronounce for the life of him, is excuse me.

And sprechen sie English? might end up having to be Yunho’s saving grace.

Yunho eventually finds his gate and grabs a seat, slumping and letting his head thump back against the wall. He shoots a quick text to his friends that he’s found his gate – San replies almost immediately – and flips to his Duolingo app in a last ditch attempt to learn some new things before he arrives. 

He has about thirty minutes until he can board when his phone pings with a text from an unknown number.

unknown number:

hey, is this jeong yunho?

Yunho blinks. That doesn’t seem sketchy as fuck. The number or area code doesn’t seem familiar either. He’s debating whether or not to reply, thumbs drumming anxiously against his now darkened phone screen, thinking about sending a screenshot to his friends to see if they know the number when another text comes through.

unknown number:

sorry, that probably seemed freaky. i’m jung wooyoung, your to-be guide at the berlin university of arts. i got your number from the international office.

Oh. That’s a lot less creepy. Yunho carefully saves the number in his phone, chewing on his lower lip as he figures out the best way to reply. What’s he supposed to say, anyways? Maybe he can pretend that he hasn’t seen it – maybe Wooyoung thinks he’s on the plane already.

jung wooyoung:

i was told you’d be arriving tomorrow around the evening, so you probably haven’t boarded yet, but i was going to let you know i’ll be in the area tomorrow if you’d like me to make the journey to your living accommodations with you.

Now that would be a huge weight off of his shoulders. He glances out the windows at the planes outside and sighs. He looks back down at his phone and starts to type out a response.

yunho:

Hi Wooyoung! I’m supposed to board in about 20 minutes, but if you would be willing to meet me at the airport and help me find my way to the campus, that would be amazing.

jung wooyoung:

i’m happy to come swing by. when’s your flight supposed to land?

yunho:

If all goes well, around 19:00 your time. I layover in Frankfurt, and if the weather is good there shouldn’t be any delays.

jung wooyoung:

sounds good. i’ll see you then.

any defining features i should look out for?

yunho: 

Um, I’m tall, I guess?

jung wooyoung:

define tall

yunho:

185 cm

jung wooyoung:

damn. ok

anything else? it’s not like i’m gonna go up to every tall guy and ask them if they’re jeong yunho.

Yunho feels his brow furrow just slightly. He doesn’t really know what to think about this Wooyoung character. Yunho’s honestly not certain if he likes him. He doubts many Korean men will be flying into Berlin at the same time that he is, though the amount of people at his gate might just prove him wrong. Yunho wonders if it’s too late to tell the other man that he can fumble his way to campus himself. But he’s told this person that he would appreciate the help, and Wooyoung would be in the area anyways, so Yunho glances down at himself. 

He’s wearing some graphic jeans – ones that he customized himself after smearing paint all over them – and a white short sleeved shirt beneath a black and white jacket. The sleeves are white and the body is mostly black, though there’s a white design on the front that’s almost reminiscent of a ribcage. He opens up his camera and snaps a quick photo of his outfit, leaving his face out of the picture – though he’s not certain why. Maybe it’s because he’s yet to see this person’s face and he feels awkward about it.

yunho:

[image]

jung wooyoung:

?

yunho:

That’s what I’m wearing.

Yunho flips to the group chat with his friends, eyes flicking up as he catches sight of movement around him. He slips one of the headphone muffs off of his ears to listen to the announcements, waiting for his class to be called.

yunho:

[image]

sannie 🐈⬛:

who’s that??

they seem rude >:(

yeosangie 🍓 :

lmao??

is this the guy who’s supposed to be your guide?

yunho:

Yeah.

Not gonna lie, I’m kinda regretting accepting his help, but I think I’ll just deal with it. 

It’s better than risking getting lost with all my stuff.

hwa-hwa ⭐ :

Don’t let yourself get pushed around Yunnie. You don’t have Sangie or Sannie to be your guard dogs anymore.

Stand your ground.

sannie 🐈⬛:

RAHHHHH >:(

people who take advantage of our yuyu suck

yunho:

I’ll be okay, Sannie :)

But you guys will probably get some rants from me later if my judgment of this guy is right

yeosangie 🍓 :

we’ll be here!

yunho:

Thanks, you guys ❤️

I need to start boarding, but I’ll let you know when I land in Frankfurt.

hwa-hwa ⭐ :

Safe travels, Yunho!

yeosangie 🍓 :

hopefully the plane food doesn’t suck

sannie 🐈⬛:

it’s korean air!! so it’s better than other airlines :3

yeosangie 🍓 :

ofc you would know what airline yunho is flying 🙄

sannie 🐈⬛:

??? 

what’s THAT supposed to mean??

yeosangie 🍓 :

you know what it means

sannie 🐈⬛:

SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP

yunho:

That’s not nice Sannie. Sangie’s just teasing

sannie 🐈⬛:

sorry yunnie

yeosangie 🍓 :

whipped

sannie 🐈⬛:

i’m not picking you up for coffee tomorrow

Yunho snorts, going to turn his phone onto airplane mode when he spots a responding text from Wooyoung, a simple “guess i’ll keep an eye out then”. He still doesn’t know what to think about the other man – first impressions aren’t everything but they’re a pretty decent indicator of who they are.

Maybe he’s just having a bad day. Yunho thinks.

Then he realizes that it’s just about three in the morning in Germany. He blinks. Why the hell is Wooyoung up this late? To be fair, Yunho has had a multitude of late nights and early mornings. He’s texting back before he can think too much about it.

jung wooyoung:

guess i’ll keep an eye out then.

yunho:

Wait, why are you awake? Isn’t it three in the morning?

jung wooyoung:

oh.

damn, you’re right. lol

yunho:

?

jung wooyoung:

i’m in a studio and there’s no clock. 

anyways now that you’re going to board the plane (i’m assuming), i’m going to bed. i’ll see you later :)

yunho:

See you later. Sleep well 

Yunho doesn’t really want to add a smiley face at the end – he rarely uses emotes or emojis in his texts (San calls him a boomer and boring) but he doesn’t know if he comes across as rude if he doesn’t. Then, he wonders, why do I care? especially after the weirdly abrupt and jarring texts from Wooyoung himself.

No, he’s probably just tired. Yunho tries to rationalize.

He sighs.

Yunho stands up, pocketing his phone and making sure that he has everything with him, grabs his bags and walks over to stand in line to board the plane. He’s in economy, and he prays that he doesn’t have any annoying seatmates or people before or behind him. It’s a lot to ask, but as someone as tall as him and with legs as long as his, being crammed into a tiny space for even over an hour is uncomfortable.

If there’s a screaming child, he might cry.

Luck seems to be on his side, because he gets an aisle seat. He tucks his duffel bag overhead and the backpack beneath the seat in front of him, and eyes the two empty seats to his right. The gate didn’t seem awfully busy, but there’s still a chance that Yunho won’t have anyone beside him. He fiddles with his phone, finally turning it onto airplane mods, slumping in his seat with a sigh.

Eventually, a young woman, probably around Yunho’s age, halts at his seat. Yunho quickly stands up and shuffles out to let her pass, and she thanks him quietly, tilting her head politely as she takes a seat by the window. There’s a middle-aged woman before Yunho and he catches sight of another man probably about his age behind him. It’s not the worst. The middle seat remains empty as the last few stragglers board the plane, and Yunho pulls up a rhythm game on his phone to pass the time until they start moving to the runway.

When the flight attendants start the spiel about safety, Yunho does his best to listen, but he ends up zoning out, staring listlessly at the screen on the back of the seat before him, the seatbelt already cutting uncomfortably into his abdomen. He’s pretty sure his legs are already cramping up, but he can’t lean his seat back until they’re up in the air – and he’s a little nervous that he might accidentally piss off the person behind him if he leans back too far.

Don’t be such a people pleaser, Yunho! People will take advantage of your kindness. San’s sunny smile flashes through his eyelids. He knows that he tries too hard to accommodate others, that he does his best to make sure he’s not inconveniencing anyone, even if it’s to his own expense. He can’t count the amount of times Yeosang and San have had to help him say no to people. It’s not that he can’t say no, or tell people to leave him alone – he’s a kind person at heart and he wants to help.

He has no idea what it’s going to look like in Berlin.

Yunho mostly plays rhythm games and edits photos for the duration of the flight. The food is fine – it’s nothing horrible but it’s better than Yunho had expected airplane food to be. He dozes on and off for the last six or so hours of the flight, knowing that the jet lag won’t be horrific, but he sort of wants to try to adjust to the new time zone as quickly as possible. He flips through some recent photos and selfies his friends have taken, feeling a small smile tugging at his lips beneath his mask.

When the plane finally starts getting ready to descend in Frankfurt, Yunho starts to gather up his trash to place in a paper bag on the empty seat so he can tuck his laptop back into his bag, wrapping up his chargers to place them in his backpack too. He grabs the paper bag of trash and hands it to one of the flight attendants coming around gathering trash, and thanks her quietly with a polite dip of his head.

The plane hits the ground with a jolt, and Yunho stifles a yawn. He still has about an hour and a half flight from Frankfurt to Berlin, with another hour in layover time. He’ll probably try to grab a coffee or something to stay awake, because he’s going to need all of his bearings to navigate an airport with signs in a foreign language. He doesn’t bother trying to get off the plane first, and the young woman doesn’t seem to be in any rush either.

Yunho stands and slings his backpack over his shoulder, stepping out into the now mostly empty aisle and grabs his duffel from the overhead compartment. He tips his head at the young woman in farewell and moves down the aisle.

The Frankfurt airport is pretty busy, but Yunho had read that this airport in particular was the busiest in all of Germany. Maybe he should’ve flown into Zurich instead. It’s a little after four thirty in the afternoon, and Yunho does his best using context clues to find his next gate. He stops by a coffee shop and awkwardly orders an iced Americano, and they thankfully understand him.

He throws away his mask – since he has extras in his backpack – as he sips on his drink, and when he finally slumps into a seat at his gate, switches his phone off of airplane mode and connects to the airport internet. Immediately, his phone buzzes with updates and notifications. The first thing he does is to text the group chat to tell them that he’s arrived safely in Frankfurt. San replies within a couple of minutes.

sannie 🐈⬛:

yay!! that’s great to hear :3

how was the flight?

yeosangie 🍓 :

that’s great to hear! hwa fell asleep waiting for you to text btw. i’ll let him know when he wakes up.

yunho:

Thanks, Sangie.

The flight was fine, Sannie. It was really long, but I slept for most of the second half.

sannie 🐈⬛:

well i’m glad you got some good rest :)

yunho:

Speaking of rest, shouldn’t the two of you be asleep?

sannie 🐈⬛:

we were waiting to hear from you

yunho:

Oh

yeosangie 🍓 :

don’t apologize

yunho:

Sorry

Oh. 

Sorry

yeosangie 🍓 :

jeong yunho you are impossible

yunho:

Oops? I’m at the next gate, by the way. I might try to take a short nap since it’s about five in the evening here.

sannie 🐈⬛:

okok! have a nice nap and don’t miss your flight!! (´ω`)

yunho:

I’ll set an alarm, don’t worry.

Sleep well, you two. I’ll text when I land in Berlin. 

Don’t wait up for me, okay?

sannie 🐈⬛:

no promises

yunho:

Please, Sannie?

sannie 🐈⬛:

fine

but only because you asked

bye bye~

yunho:

Haha, sleep well Sannie ❤️

Yunho then goes to text Wooyoung to let him know that he’s in the Frankfurt airport and waiting to board the last plane to fly to Berlin. He’s surprised at how quickly Wooyoung replies.

yunho:

Hey Wooyoung, I landed in Frankfurt, so I’ll be in Berlin in a couple of hours.

jung wooyoung:

sounds good! i’ll start making my way over to the airport soon.

is there anything you’re allergic to?

yunho:

Only dogs.

jung wooyoung:

noted. i’ll see you in a bit.

yunho:

See you then.

Yunho tries not to think too much about the cryptic message that Wooyoung sent him and settles down in his seat.

The rest of the trip is uneventful, and Yunho lands safely in Berlin. He texts his friends that he’s arrived, and almost as soon as he's connected to the airport WiFi, a text message from Wooyoung comes through, letting Yunho know that he's at the right departure gate, sent about five minutes ago. Yunho lets Wooyoung know that he's waiting for his luggage and then he’ll be right out. 

He feels nervous about it. He has never once met this man, he has no idea what he looks like and only has the first impression via text – which Yunho isn't feeling very positive about. He finds both of his suitcases and anxiously makes his way to the exit, relying on his limited English.

The airport is nice and spacious, but there's already something different in the air that feels almost charged. It's like he can feel the strange looks he's getting – a tall young man with a mask and a bucket hat, definitely not from the country, or continent for that matter. Maybe he’s being paranoid.

Yunho finally makes his way out of the arrivals gate and glances around, hoping that he might be able to catch sight of whoever this Wooyoung guy is supposed to be. He drags his luggage off to the side, readjusting his duffel bag and backpack as he fumbles to find his phone, squinting at the screen, eyes sore. Although he slept on both flights, he’s still pretty tired.

“Jeong Yunho.” Yunho flinches, nearly dropping his phone, head whipping up at the sound of his name.

There’s a young man that stands before him, about a head or so shorter. He’s quite handsome, actually, with pretty features and dark hair with blonde highlights that's pulled back into a ponytail, a couple strands artfully arranged to fall into his face. Yunho wouldn't call him petite , but he’s slim with a lithe build – sort of reminding him of Yeosang – and wonders if he does dance. The young man’s wearing a black short sleeved shirt beneath a denim jacket and a pair of black jeans.

“Jung Wooyoung?” Yunho asks. The young man clicks the lollipop in his mouth against his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Wooyoung speaks in Korean, handing Yunho a small paper bag. Yunho blinks and Wooyoung arches a brow when Yunho doesn't move. “You gonna take it?”

“What is it?” Yunho accepts the bag. It's still warm.

“Flammkuchen.” Wooyoung replies. Yunho stares at him blankly. “It’s sort of like a pizza.” Wooyoung shifts, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Oh. Thank you.” Yunho says, awkwardly. He wonders if this was why Wooyoung had asked him about allergies.

“Do you want to sit somewhere to eat, or can we head out?” Wooyoung asks. 

Yunho shakes his head. “No, I’m all set.” 

Wooyoung eyes him warily, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he grabs one of Yunho’s suitcases and turns abruptly on his heel and starts off down the sleek hallways of the airport and Yunho has to rush to keep up, letting out a soft sigh. 

He doesn't really understand why Wooyoung sounds like this is such a chore to come get him. He was the one who had offered to come get Yunho – he had the instructions on how to get to the dorms himself. He could've figured it out. But now he's stuck with a young man with an attitude, someone he's going to have to rely on for the next determined period of time, wasting his time because Yunho is either too incompetent or took too much time to make a decision.

A shame that someone with such a pretty face is being so rude.

The trip to student housing is also pretty uneventful. Wooyoung doesn’t seem bothered by the curious looks they get – Yunho wonders if it’s his height, or the fact that he’s still wearing his bucket hat and mask – and just taps at his phone, thumbs flying over the screen. Yunho guesses that he’s probably talking to his friends. Yunho has no idea how he’s going to try to make friends. His friends are most likely asleep, since it’s two in the morning back in Seoul, so he can’t talk with any of them.

“By the way, Naver and Kakao aren’t going to work as well over here.” Wooyoung says, glancing over at Yunho, as they stand up together on the train – Wooyoung had called it the S-Bahn. “I can get you set up with some other apps that’ll function better over here tomorrow, if you’d like. I’m guessing you’re just going to want to sleep.”

“Tomorrow will be great.” Yunho admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Wooyoung hums, tilting his head to the side. A few more minutes of awkward silence, surrounded by the sounds of low murmurs and train tracks, Wooyoung speaks up again.

“Do you know where you’re staying?” Wooyoung asks. Yunho grabs his phone in his pocket, duffel bag slipping down his shoulder as he tries to juggle his suitcase at the same time, and Wooyoung stops him, taking the duffel for him.

“Oh. I can still carry that-” Yunho starts to protest.

“Just look for the email, it’s fine.” Wooyoung waves him off, and Yunho scrunches his nose up. He doesn’t like burdening others to pick up his slack. Wooyoung’s already dragging around one of Yunho’s stupidly heavy suitcases. But Wooyoung’s already adjusting the strap over his shoulder and Yunho sighs, flicking through his email to find where he’s going to be living for the next six or so months.

“Um. Here.” Yunho shows Wooyoung the email confirming his room. Wooyoung hums, brow arching elegantly as he leans in a little bit to see the screen.

“Eichkamp? That’s where I live.” Wooyoung muses. “That’s also probably why they reached out to me.” His eyes flick over the screen again, letting out an impressed noise. “Damn. You scored yourself one of the partial Maisonette single apartments.”

“What’s that mean?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung might be speaking Korean, but half of the words sounded foreign.

“You’ll have your own private bathroom, and your living space and bedroom are tiered.” Wooyoung says. “You’ll have to share a common kitchen, though.”

“Oh.” Yunho pockets his phone, uncertain of what else to say. 

“This is our stop.” Wooyoung tells him, about ten minutes later, pushing off from where he was leaning against the wall of the train. 

Yunho fumbles to follow him, lugging his suitcase out of the train. The ride had been a little over half an hour, and Yunho had been able to snack on the Flammkuchen – which was quite tasty. The streets are busy and Wooyoung directs Yunho to stay out of the bike lanes. Yunho had seen images of Berlin before, but he couldn't help but to glance around at the buildings and all of the history that’s woven into the streets. He’ll have to come out again at some point to take some photos.

The walk is pretty short and Wooyoung helps him find his keys from the office and his door. There are a few other students in the corridor, dragging boxes and suitcases into their rooms, and Yunho sort of guesses that they’re also in a similar living arrangement as Yunho is. He spots his neighbor as he approaches his own door, wearing a baseball cap over a dark head of hair and a mask that covers his face. He looks a little lost and confused, dragging two suitcases through the door. But when he notices Yunho and Wooyoung, he offers a wave and a bow that Yunho returns, a little awkwardly.

When Yunho steps into his room, he’s a little surprised at how big it is. A sense of relief washes over him – it already feels pretty warm and cozy. The walls are high, and the layout of it sort of reminds Yunho of his old studio apartment back in Seoul. Wooyoung trails in quietly after him.

The main ‘living space’ is pretty empty, with a long desk with drawers and cabinets stretched out on the right side of the wall, and he has two large windows that overlook the nice green areas of the housing accommodations. On the opposite wall is a staircase, and beneath the staircase is a tiered bookshelf with more drawers at the bottom.

Yunho wanders in further to the room, peering around and spots the door to the small private bathroom. He sets his suitcase off to the side and takes a few steps up the staircase, curious. The second floor spans about half of the width of the downstairs area, and it has a bed – large enough for Yunho’s size, too – that’s already fitted with sheets, and a couple of bookshelves and two closets.

It’s really nice.

Yunho drops his backpack off at the top of the stairs, spotting Wooyoung setting the duffel bag down on the desk, his second suitcase by his first. Yunho hooks his fingers into the straps of his mask to tug it off, crumpling it up in his fist and takes off his bucket hat to run his hand through his mussed and flattened hair as he makes his way back downstairs.

“Um, thanks for the help.” Yunho says, turning to look over at Wooyoung. Wooyoung stares at him for a few moments. Yunho tilts his head curiously, and whatever daze Wooyoung is in, he snaps out of it.

“Not a problem.” Wooyoung replies, shifting on his feet. It’s awkward. Before Yunho can say anything else, Wooyoung’s phone rings, and he shoots Yunho an apologetic look. Yunho shrugs. “Hello? Oh, I’m helping someone move in. Eh? Yes, it’s the Korean student I was assigned.”

Yunho blinks, a little more than impressed at how quickly and smoothly Wooyoung switches languages. He understands a little bit of it, but most of it just goes right over his head. So while Wooyoung talks, Yunho pokes his head into the bathroom to check it out, and then goes back upstairs to go plug his phone in, since it’s just about dead.

“Yunho?” He hears Wooyoung call for him a couple minutes later.

“Yeah?” Yunho comes back down the stairs. Wooyoung’s hands are tucked into his pockets.

“I need to head out.” Wooyoung tells him. “If you need anything, just shoot me a text, yeah? I can show you around tomorrow if you’d like.” Yunho hesitates. He understands that Wooyoung’s supposed to help him navigate and get settled in, but he doesn’t want to pull Wooyoung away from any other responsibilities or commitments.

“Oh, that’s okay.” Yunho shakes his head. “I was just going to go exploring, anyway.” Yunho tilts his head. “You’ve already done a lot for me today.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And uh, I don’t want you to feel obligated to look after me or anything.”

“Do you know how any of the public transport systems work?” Wooyoung asks, disbelief and amusement laced into his words.

“No, but I’ll figure it out.” Yunho shuffles on his feet.

“Suit yourself.” Wooyoung shrugs a single shoulder. “If you’re doing this because you don’t want to inconvenience me, keep in mind that it’ll probably be more annoying if you get lost and I have to come find you.” Wooyoung turns, pausing with one foot out of Yunho’s new apartment door, glancing over his shoulder. “You’ll love it here, I promise.”

“I believe you.” Yunho says. Wooyoung shoots him a weary smile before he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him.

He spends the rest of his night unpacking his things, hanging his hoodies and jackets up in the closet, arranging his clothes carefully and meticulously in the drawers and setting out his laptop and other academic related things onto the desk. He draws the curtains and makes sure the windows are closed – he also struggles to figure out how they open and nearly screams when it opens from the top at a diagonal angle.

He takes a shower and makes his way back upstairs, towel slung over his shoulders, and flops down on the bed, grabbing his phone. He’s exhausted, but he has to wait just a little bit for his hair to dry so he doesn’t end up getting sick. A small smile curls at his lips when he sees that he has a few new messages from San.

sannie 🐈⬛:

good morning yunho!!

or i guess it’s night time for you

oh

i hope i didn’t wake you up 😭

yunho:

Good morning, Sannie! Don’t worry, I’m still awake, I’ve just been organizing my room so far.

sannie 🐈⬛:

oh!! how’s it been?? what’s your room like?

is that guy still being rude >:(

yunho:

Do you want to video call?

sannie 🐈⬛:

if you want to!!

Yunho bites back the small smile at San’s enthusiasm – he’s never been much of a morning person, but it’s always endearing. He requests a video call, and San’s face pops into view a few minutes later, sleep mussed and still curled up in his sheets.

“You look sleepy.” Yunho teases. San scrunches his nose up, face half hidden beneath his covers.

“Mm. I just woke up.” San says, stifling a yawn. “I wanted to see how you were doing… and I sort of forgot about the time difference.”

“No worries.” Yunho hums, rolling over in his bed to stand up, hanging up his towel, phone in hand. “Want to see the room?”

“Yeah.” San’s eyes crinkle, and Yunho catches a glimpse of his dimples, half-hidden in his blankets. Yunho shifts, tapping at his screen to prompt the camera flip option to pop up, and San lets out a little delighted gasp when the room comes into view. “It's a tiered room?!” San asks, eyes practically sparkling.

“It is.” Yunho huffs out a soft laugh. 

He shows San the upstairs area – not that there's much other than the bed and the closets – and makes his way downstairs. San voices his jealousy for the spacious apartment Yunho’s going to be living in, and they talk a little more, San asking questions about Wooyoung and if he's spoken with anyone else.

Yunho laughs softly, and replies to each of San’s questions. “Wooyoung seems rough around the edges, but he's kind. He sort of seems like someone with a lot of walls.”

“Well, don't let him push you around, and don't let him get away with being so rude.” San huffs, rolling over, cheek squished against his pillows. The familiar Shiba Inu plushie is curled up in his arms.

“I won't, Sannie.” Yunho cracks a wry smile. He probably won't – he's not a confrontational person at all – but San seems to be marginally satisfied. “You should go back to sleep, you look exhausted. And you've yawned several times.”

“Not sleepy.” San mumbles. His eyes blink open. “Wanna keep talking with you.”

“We can always talk later, okay?” Yunho says, purposefully pitching his voice lower into a softer register, one he knows that works like a charm to get San dozing.

“Not fair.” San yawns, knowing what Yunho’s doing. Yunho smiles.

“I think it is.” Yunho tells him. “I’m probably going to head off and try to sleep myself, so you should also rest for another couple of hours. I know you can't function before ten.”

“I can.” San protests, but his argument is weak. “Mm. Sleep well, Yuyu. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Sannie.” Yunho says softly. “Sleep well, alright?” San hums, and Yunho snorts, because San’s already fallen back asleep. He ends the call and walks back up the stairs before he crawls into bed, setting his phone back on its charger and draws the covers up. It's just about two in the morning when Yunho finally manages to go to sleep.

“Excuse me!”

Yunho glances up from where he’s been standing – for who knows how long – staring down at his phone screen in an attempt to figure out how to get to the S-Bahn. There’s a young man approaching him with a cheerful look on his face, glasses perched on his nose. There’s a travel over the shoulder bag slung across his chest. He’s handsome. He looks to be about Yunho’s age and height, too.

“Are you lost, by chance?” 

It takes several moments for the words to register in Yunho’s head, and even then, he’s missing half of the words, but the other man must mistake his silence for confusion, because he keeps talking. 

“Uh, this might sound a little creepy, sorry, but I’ve sorta been watching you on occasion from my room,” he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, and Yunho guesses he’s pointing to his room, “and you’ve been standing here staring at your phone for a solid fifteen minutes, so I figured I’d come down and check to see if you needed any help.” He’s talking so quickly, and so much of it is going over his head and all Yunho can do is shrug helplessly. He can pick up a couple of different words here and there, but most of it is lost in translation.

“Do you know how to get to S-Bahn?” He asks, stumbling over his words, probably forgetting a couple of them, his fingers tangling with his camera strap.

“Yeah! I can show you.” The young mam beams, making a gesturing motion. “Come with me. I was planning on going into the city today, anyway.”

“Thank you.” Yunho bows briefly, before he realizes that’s probably weird over here, but the young man takes it in stride.

“Where are you from?” He asks Yunho as they start their way down the street. Yunho understands this.

“Korea.” Yunho provides.

“Oh! I am as well.” The young man exclaims. “I’m Song Mingi. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jeong Yunho.” Yunho introduces himself. 

“When did you arrive?” Mingi asks.

“Pardon?” Yunho feels his ears burn. Unlike Wooyoung, who knew that Yunho had just flown in from Korea and had only spoken in Korean, this is pretty much the first conversation Yunho has ever had in German. He’s glad that Mingi didn’t just switch to Korean, though. “Um, I’m sorry, my German is not good.”

“I think it sounds great.” Mingi tells him, flashing him a grin. “Do you want to keep speaking German with me? I can always switch to Korean.” Yunho hesitates briefly.

“I would like to keep practicing.” Yunho says, stuttering slightly over his words. 

“Alright.” Mingi smiles. “Just let me know if you want to switch over.” Yunho nods. “Did you arrive just recently?”

“I flew in yesterday.” Yunho rubs the back of his neck.

“Nice. Has jet lag kicked in yet?”

“No,” Yunho shakes his head.

Mingi is friendly and cheerful, and Yunho knows that he would definitely be feeding off of the other man’s energy if he was fluent enough. The walk to the S-Bahn station is brief, and Mingi offers to tag along with Yunho for the day.

“Are you sure? You don’t have anything to do?” Yunho asks, uncertain.

“Yes, it’s nothing pressing.” Mingi shrugs. “I was probably going to make bad financial choices, anyways.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Yunho shifts on his feet. Mingi guides him through the process of how the ticket machines work – switching to Korean so Yunho can actually understand the instructions, and Yunho’s a little taken aback at how the pitch of Mingi’s voice changes. Mingi gives Yunho a curious look when he falters while tapping at the screen. “Oh. Your voice tone changed, is all.”

“Ah, yeah, it does that.” Mingi rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You have a nice voice,” Yunho is quick to reassure, and Mingi smiles.

“I know.” He teases. “You do too.”

“Thank you.” Yunho ignores the warmth creeping up his neck.

“You think you’ve got it?” Mingi asks, smoothly switching back into German.

“Um. I think with practice, I will be okay.” Yunho says slowly, taking a few moments to process the language change. 

“Absolutely! And if you need any help with anything else, feel free to reach out. Oh, let me give you my number first, though.”

Their train ride is mostly quiet, but Mingi starts chattering as soon as they get off at the Alexanderplatz stop, the central hub and a great place to start to get to know Berlin, according to Mingi. He helps Yunho find the best places to take photos, and even offers to take some with Yunho’s phone so he can send them to his friends. At some point, they both end up switching to Korean, and only notice when they get asked a question by a handful of tourists and Mingi keeps trying to talk to them in Korean.

It’s fun – Yunho feels relaxed in Mingi’s presence, and he finds that he doesn’t mind it when Mingi happens to drape an arm over his shoulder or grab his wrist to drag him off to show him a favorite spot or store. Mingi asks if there’s anything that Yunho wants to try eating, and when he shrugs, the other man drags him to the “best Currywurst stand you’ll ever find.”

Yunho purchases a few supplies for his upcoming classes, and helps Mingi find a new pair of noise canceling headphones. The sun is setting by the time that the two of them return to the dorms, and Mingi gives Yunho a brief side hug before they part ways for the night.

“I had a lot of fun today!” Mingi beams. “We should do that again.”

“That would be lovely.” Yunho admits, unable to stop his own smile from tugging at his lips. “Thank you for today, Mingi. I needed that.” Mingi rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m glad I could help you feel a little more comfortable here.” Mingi tells him. “It can be a bit difficult, and some people are assholes, but you’ll find the right crowd.”

Yunho wonders why he couldn’t have someone like Song Mingi to be his guide.

│▌▌▌│▌▌│▌▌▌│▌▌│▌▌▌│

“Goddammit.” Wooyoung grunts, slamming his hands against the keys of the piano in frustration, a jarring noise ringing out in the small studio room. 

He doesn’t understand why he’s struggling so hard with the piece. Sure, La Campanella is one of the hardest written piano pieces that exists, but he’s been playing Chopin and Vivaldi since elementary school and Liszt since middle school. The chromatic scales are annoying, but he also has the span of just about twelve keys on each hand, and he knows that he excels with trills.

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung scowls, eyeing measure 108 with as much vehemence as he can muster. He sighs, raking a tired hand through his hair before he tries to start from the beginning once again.

He has no idea how long he’s been in the studio – he knows that he’s been here since eight in the morning, and that Hongjoong and Jongho have both stopped by to check in on him. Mingi hasn’t stopped by, but he does remember that his friend had mentioned wanting to go out to Alexanderplatz to do some shopping.

He fucks up again, and frustratedly pushes away from the piano, fingers starting to tremble with how much he’s exerted them. He needs to get this piece done so he can start on the next one. His recital is in three months, and he can’t afford to mess it up. His phone buzzes from somewhere in the room and Wooyoung blindly reaches for it, swiping his thumb across the screen with a tired sigh.

“What?” He snaps, without checking the caller ID. There’s a pause on the other side of the line.

“Damn, Woo.” Mingi huffs. “You still holed up in the studio?”

“Yeah.” Wooyoung rubs a hand down his face. “Sorry, Min, I’ve been hacking away at this piece for days and I’m stuck and I just want to get it done.”

“I know. You’ve been working hard.” Mingi tells him softly. “We were thinking of getting some kebap for dinner. You want to come with us?” Wooyoung’s stomach growls. He pulls his phone back to check the time, and oh yeah, he’s been here for ten hours.

“Yeah. I need a break or else I think I’m going to go insane.” Wooyoung admits, starting to tuck his sheet music back into his folder. “I’ll meet you guys by the gate in five?”

“Sounds good!” Mingi chirps. The line goes dead, and Wooyoung starts packing up, his knees and back cracking as he stands up. The world swims briefly, and Wooyoung shuts his eyes, gritting his jaw. He shakes it off and slips his folder into his backpack, wiping down the piano and the bench before he slings his bag over his shoulder. He ends up running into someone on his way out, nearly getting bowled over as he rounds the corner.

“Watch where you’re fucking walking.” Wooyoung snaps, his own hunger (and probably dehydration and frustration from earlier) getting the better of him. He glances up, eyes sharp with another barb on his tongue, but falters when a familiar wide-eyed expression meets his. Yunho trips back a couple of steps, hugging a couple bags close to his chest, eyes cast downwards, chewing on his lower lip.

Great job, Wooyoung. He looks like a fucking kicked puppy.

Yunho mumbles out an apology, half Korean, half German, and darts past him before Wooyoung can say anything else or try to apologize himself. His tongue is heavy in his mouth. Wooyoung glances over his shoulder to watch as Yunho disappears from view and almost falls up the staircase, and he can practically see the tail tucked between the other man’s legs.

“Why can’t I have my shit together when it comes to attractive men?” Wooyoung mutters to himself, expelling a sigh, chest tight.

He knows that he was a douche to Yunho the day prior. But his mood had been soured by a few asshole German high school boys, taunting him about something he couldn’t care less about – he’d blocked them out – and pair that with his social awkwardness and inability to know how to properly function around new people, it was a recipe for disaster.

It didn’t help that he could already tell that Yunho was handsome from the first moment they had met, even with the bucket hat and mask on. Then when he’d helped Yunho bring his luggage into his apartment and the taller man tugged the mask off and tucked his bucket beneath his arm, Wooyoung’s heart had fucking swooped. Wooyoung stands there helplessly until his phone is buzzing again with a call from Mingi asking him where the hell he is.

A few days later, Wooyoung’s standing before Yunho’s door, nerves alight, backpack slung over his shoulder. Today’s the first day of classes, and the international office had asked him to help Yunho navigate the campus. He doesn’t have class until later in the day, and he knows from his very few text messages with Yunho that the taller man has a morning class. Wooyoung hesitates briefly before he lifts his hand to rap on the door.

There’s a yell from Yunho from somewhere inside, asking for another few seconds, and Wooyoung shifts to lean against the wall instead, plucking his phone from his pocket to nervously scroll through his social media aimlessly. He has two classes today, and then he plans to go out with Jongho for a little bit because he wanted to find some new composition books and a few more piano books. After that, he plans to hole himself up in the studio again to take another stab at La Campanella. About three minutes later, Yunho opens the door, blond hair swept back from his face, thumbs hooked into the straps of his backpack.

“Good morning.” Wooyoung greets, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Morning.” Yunho offers him a shy smile, and Wooyoung’s heart skips a beat.

“Are you ready for your first day?” He asks. Yunho is quiet for a few moments, and Wooyoung guesses that he’s taking a moment to process what he’s just said in German.

“Um, I think so.” Yunho says, looking uncertain. Cute.

“Come on.” Wooyoung gestures with his head, and turns to walk down the hall. Yunho hurries after him, even if it only takes him three steps to be walking next to him.

It’s awkward and quiet as Wooyoung leads them to the S-Bahn station, and they only exchange a few words – Wooyoung asks if Yunho has a ticket (Yunho confirms), he asks what building Yunho needs to be at first (Yunho tells him) – and they’re both on their phones for most of the ride. 

Yunho’s thumbs fly over his keyboard, and there’s a small smile on his face, eyes crinkling just slightly as he texts, and Wooyoung feels a weird curl of something ugly in his stomach. He nudges Yunho gently when their stop is arriving, and Yunho startles, blinking up at Wooyoung curiously. He really looks like a puppy. There’s some irony, Wooyoung thinks, because the only thing Yunho is allergic to are dogs.

“Our stop is up next.” Wooyoung says. Yunho’s lips part in a small ‘oh’ shape, and he slips out of his seat, letting Wooyoung out before he follows. Wooyoung sort of wonders how much German Yunho actually understands.

On the walk to the building, a few students that Wooyoung’s previously had classes with walk past him, and they offer a small wave or a head nod, though they do a double take when they realize the giant next to him isn’t Mingi. And to be fair, Wooyoung is almost always with Mingi, Hongjoong or Jongho when he’s out and about, so he sort of gets why his former classmates think that it’s a little strange.

“We’re here.” Wooyoung says, as they reach the fine arts building. Yunho looks skittish and anxious, rolling his lower lip in his mouth, knuckles white where they’re wrapped around the straps of his backpack. “You’ll be fine, Yunho.” He tacks on, hoping that he can sort of convey his genuineness. The taller man does not look convinced. He also looks like he’s trying his very best to hype himself up.

“It’s just art, Yunho. Paintbrush to canvas, get your shit together. It’s not that hard.” Yunho’s mumbling to himself in Korean. He heaves out a soft sigh a few moments later, glances at the time on his phone, grimaces, and then glances over to Wooyoung. “Um. Thank you for the help getting here.” He says in German. It’s a little awkward and stilted – textbook speak. Yunho hesitates, chewing on the corner of his lip.

“Do you want me to help you find your next class too?” Wooyoung asks. “I don’t have classes until the afternoon, and I plan to just hang around the area anyways.” Yunho shifts on his feet, looking like he’s running through a catalog of different ideas in his head.

You’ve already done a lot for me today. And uh, I don’t want you to feel obligated to look after me, or anything.

That’s what Yunho had told him the first day they’d met. Wooyoung wonders if he’s always this altruistic or selfless, or if he just doesn’t want to feel like an inconvenience. That sends what feels like an irrational stab of irritation through his veins.

“You’re not going to burden me or anything.” Wooyoung tells Yunho, unable to stop the little bit of annoyance bleed into his tone. “I’m happy to help you learn your way around campus – that’s what I’m here for. I signed up for the program.” Yunho still looks hesitant, but his time is running out, because students are rushing around them to get to class on time. One of them bumps roughly into Yunho, muttering a curse beneath his breath, and Yunho flinches.

“Okay, that would be helpful.” Yunho nods. His responses are almost clipped and clinical, but Wooyoung’s pretty sure that’s not his intention. “This ends in two and a half hours.”

“I’ll be waiting, then.” Wooyoung offers Yunho a smile that the other man tentatively returns. He thanks Wooyoung again, politely, with a little bow, and hurries into the building.

“Who was that?” Wooyoung nearly jumps as someone speaks right by his ear, hand flying to his heart with a curse. He whirls around to find another good friend of his, Yeji. She’s standing there with her messenger bag slung over her shoulder, brow arched.

Similar to Wooyoung, she'd grown up in Berlin, though her parents were now both back in Korea. They met in concert band their first year of university, Wooyoung was their pianist – a position he had to audition for – and Yeji had a specialization in the flute, but was also well versed in piano, and they were selected for a paired piece to perform. The two of them had grown close after spending hours upon hours holed up together in the studio practice rooms. They got along pretty well – though their personalities do conflict on occasion.

“Jeong Yunho.” Wooyoung says. “He’s a new student. He's here for a semester abroad.”

“Damn.” Yeji arches a brow. “That sounds expensive.” Wooyoung shrugs. Yeji watches him a little longer, eyes slightly narrowed and Wooyoung resists the urge to squirm beneath her scrutiny. “Let me guess. You were your awkward I don't know how to act around pretty people and help I’m socially awkward self again and put him off?” Wooyoung bristles.

“I don't need you to point it out.” He huffs crossing his arms. “Don't you have class?” Yeji shrugs.

“Yeah. I was on my way when I saw you and cutie.” She says, grinning when Wooyoung scowls at her. “See you around Youngie.” She coos, Wooyoung flipping her off as she slips into the building. He sighs, and turns around, aiming to head to one of the practice rooms until Yunho’s class is over.

It seems that Yunho picks up a lot of things quickly. By the fourth day, Yunho can comfortably navigate to most of his classes, though he still needs help finding some of the more specific buildings. His friends ask him how it’s going with the student he’s showing around – none of them have met Yunho, as far as Wooyoung knows – and he shrugs, telling them that it’s going fine. When they ask if they can meet him, Wooyoung gives some vague excuse about not knowing if he has time.

There are a couple of times that Wooyoung spots Yunho walking around with another young man – who’s about a head and a half shorter than Yunho – on campus and sometimes around the dormitory buildings. He doesn’t really know why he feels irritated by it. Good for Yunho. Maybe he’s annoyed because Yunho is the first student that Wooyoung has ever felt awkward or standoffish around. Wooyoung is a friendly person – he’s talkative and animated when he’s with his friends – but he’s just horribly awkward, and has a bad habit of taking out his frustration on the innocent.

Previously, whenever Wooyoung has been a guide for an international student, they almost always kept in contact with him until they felt comfortable enough to branch out. They still talk with Wooyoung on occasion. But Yunho is quiet, and rarely reaches out unless he needs something, and even then, Wooyoung’s noticed in the two weeks that he’s known the taller man, that Yunho prefers to try to figure it out himself.

He accidentally overhears a conversation of Yunho’s one day – the blond man is sitting at one of the picnic tables outside since it’s a nice day, leaning over the table, chin propped up on his forearm, the other hand extended outwards. Wooyoung guesses he’s video calling his friends back in Korea, given that Yunho isn’t speaking in German.

“How’s it been?” Wooyoung hears the voice from the other side of the line. It’s definitely male and a lower register. “Has he been giving you any more trouble?” He? Who’s “he”? Yunho lets out a soft chuckle.

“It’s been alright. I’m getting used to it. It’s a slow process, but I’m working at it.” Yunho shrugs, shifting where he’s sitting. “And no, Sannie, Wooyoung has been nothing but kind to me.”

Oh. So Yunho’s been talking about Wooyoung to his friends? The pianist shifts, feeling awkward that he’s (sort of) accidentally eavesdropping on the conversation. Wait, any more trouble? Wooyoung chews on the inside of his cheek. He knows for certain that he has not been “nothing but kind”. He’s been rude and clipped, and yet Yunho is still defending him. Sannie, or whoever the fuck is on the other side of the line, must mumble something that he can’t hear, because Yunho sits up, and Wooyoung can’t see his expression, but his tone is sharp.

“That’s not kind, San. You can’t make judgements about people you haven’t met before.” Yunho reprimands. He runs a hand through his blond hair. “Enough about that. How have your classes been?”

“Fine, I guess. But they’re so boring. ” San complains. Yunho snorts softly.

“You need them to graduate, remember?” Yunho says, sounding fond. “Have you branched out like you promised me you would?” There’s a petulant sounding no from the other line.

Before Wooyoung can continue to just awkwardly listen in, the door of the apartment building that he’s been standing at flies open and Wooyoung jumps, startled.

“Oh! Wooyoung, hey!” Wooyoung bites back a curse as one of his classmates exits the building, carrying a guitar case over his back. Jan, if he remembers correctly. “What’re you doing out here?” He’s loud. Wooyoung spots Yunho glancing over at the German ruckus, and he sort of wants to just die or let the ground swallow him whole.

“Um. I forgot my keycard to get in.” Wooyoung says lamely. Jan laughs, and offers to let him back in, but before Wooyoung can accept it to scamper out of this awkward situation, Yunho calls out to him to come over. “Ah… nevermind, I’m all set. But thanks, I’ll see you around.” He gives an awkward two-fingered salute to Jan before he jams his hands into his pockets and walks over.

“Hi,” Yunho greets.

“Hey.” Wooyoung returns. He glances down at Yunho’s phone screen, where not only his and Yunho’s reflection stares back at him, but there’s also a broad-shouldered (and also very attractive) dark haired young man who’s staring – glaring, more like – right back at him. Wooyoung blinks. He sort of looks like an angry cat.

“Sorry if that was um…” Yunho pauses, brow furrowing. It’s pretty clear that he’s trying to find the right word in German, and Wooyoung stays quiet, letting him try to figure it out, “ awkward, I guess.” Yunho sighs, speaking in partial Korean.

“Unangenehm.” Wooyoung provides. Yunho stares at him. “It depends on the context, for the word awkward in German. In this case, it’s unangenehm, since it was to describe an uncomfortable situation.”

“Oh. I see. Thank you.” He shuffles, before he offers Wooyoung a seat on the bench next to him. He slides in, a little awkwardly. The other man on the other side of the phone hasn’t stopped staring at him, brow furrowed. “This is one of my friends from back home, Choi San.” He says, switching back to Korean.

“Hi.” Wooyoung says, feeling judged beneath San’s sharp feline gaze.

“Hi.” San replies, though it’s clipped. Yunho sighs.

“Sannie, don’t be rude.” Yunho clicks his tongue. Wooyoung watches as San’s gaze reluctantly turns softer, lips turning down into a slight pout.

“Okay.” San huffs. “How much did you hear?” He directs his gaze to Wooyoung.

“How much of what did I hear?” Wooyoung replies, tilting his head curiously. He knows exactly what San’s talking about, and he wonders if the other man can see through his lie. Possibly, but also not very likely – Wooyoung’s poker face is pretty impenetrable.

“San!” Yunho’s eyes narrow slightly in their video. “He wasn’t listening in. He just forgot his keycard to get back in the building, so stop getting all huffy.”

“It’s fine.” Wooyoung tells Yunho, reaching up just briefly to touch the older man’s shoulder, an attempt to try to convey that he’s really not bothered. He spots the way San narrows in on it, eyes flicking to Wooyoung with such malice that he’s pretty shocked that Yunho doesn’t notice it. Wooyoung draws his hand back.

It’s very clear to Wooyoung that this San is either very protective of Yunho, or he has a massive crush on him. Wooyoung’s willing to bet a lot of money that it’s the latter.

“Where’s Seonghwa and Yeosang?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung guesses those are his other friends.

“Probably fucking.” San mutters, and Wooyoung chokes. Yunho glances over at him, patting him on the back to try to help him recover, but Wooyoung waves him off, not really wanting to be subjected to San’s fiery glare (even if he looks more like a disgruntled kitten the more Wooyoung thinks about it).

“Well, go tell them to stop fucking.” Yunho huffs. 

San scrunches his nose up, but it’s obvious that he’d do anything for Yunho – even Wooyoung can tell, and he’s known this man for all of two minutes – because San disappears off frame. A few moments later, there’s a shout that echoes throughout the apartment on the other end.

“Sorry, I don’t know why he’s being so…” Yunho trails off, looking despondent. It’s similar to the kicked puppy look he gave Wooyoung when he’d accidentally snapped at him the second day, though he looks much less hurt.

“It’s alright,” Wooyoung shrugs, honestly not too bothered by it. “It’s not the first time someone’s had that reaction to me.” Yunho’s brow furrows at that.

“I’m still sorry about it.” Yunho apologizes. “I think he’s just tired and stressed. He has a major project that he’s been working on for nearly a year and it’s due this semester.” Wooyoung is pretty sure that’s not the case for San’s hostility, but he shrugs, nodding along.

“I wish him the best.” Wooyoung tells him honestly. Yunho smiles and Wooyoung’s heart flutters. There’s the sound of footsteps on the other end and some muted voices, and San comes back into view, this time accompanied by two other young men – also very attractive. Wooyoung blinks.

“Why are you and all of your friends so handsome?” Wooyoung asks Yunho, before he can control his brain to mouth filter.

“Eh- huh?” Yunho blinks, startling, his cheeks flushing. It’s cute.

“I’m flattered.” The shorter one offers a dazzling smile. “Hi, I’m Kang Yeosang. It’s nice to meet you. I would like to say that I’ve heard a lot about you, but Yunho doesn’t like gossip or talking about people when they’re not there.”

“It’s rude.” Yunho mumbles, a hint of pink still dusting his cheekbones.

“I’m Park Seonghwa,” the third man offers. “You are quite handsome yourself, Wooyoung.”

“Er, thank you.” Wooyoung rubs the back of his neck, a little awkward. It sort of feels like he’s meeting Yunho’s parents – and he’s also not horribly friendly with Yunho either. And now he’s sort of aware that Yunho has mentioned Wooyoung to them before – because they know his name, and because of the question San had been asking him earlier.

Yunho easily slides back into conversation, prompting and guiding the flow in a way that has Wooyoung relaxing and lowering some of his awkward walls to the point where he feels like he can freely smile and laugh (though he does try to stifle it, and Yunho tells him that he thinks that the little hitches in Wooyoung’s laugh is cute, which then prompts San to scrunch up his nose, glaring – something that Yunho doesn’t notice, but the other two men certainly do). When Yunho gets the notification that his phone battery is low, he apologizes to his friends.

“Sorry, I have to get going. My phone’s about to die.” Yunho says, looking disappointed.

“Don’t worry, Yunnie. We can call again soon.” Yeosang reassures him.

“We can text, too!” San chirps, eyes darting to Wooyoung. 

“It was really nice being able to talk to you, Yunho. You as well, Wooyoung.” Seonghwa tells them, eyes crinkling gently. “I hope we’ll get to see you again?”

“If Yunho allows me to.” Wooyoung says, glancing over at Yunho, who only offers him a small smile and nod in return.

The next time that Wooyoung happens to run into Yunho, it’s at a Lidl. He’s with Mingi for the day, and Yunho’s with that same young man that Wooyoung has seen with him on occasion. (He doesn’t actively seek him out, thank you very much.) The other two don’t notice him since they’re both staring at a display of different cereals and Mingi’s disappeared off to somewhere, and Wooyoung catches a couple clips of their conversation. To his surprise, it’s neither Korean or German. He blinks. He wonders how many languages Yunho knows.

The shorter man with Yunho must say something funny, because Yunho’s eyes crinkle, and his shoulders shake a little bit with laughter as he nudges the other man. Wooyoung feels his stomach twist strangely.

“What’re you staring at?” Mingi asks when he returns, speaking a little louder than he needs to, setting a loaf of freshly cut bread down in the carriage. He follows Wooyoung’s gaze and tilts his head. Because Wooyoung’s still staring, he misses the flicker of recognition in Mingi’s eyes.

At the sound of Mingi’s voice, Yunho glances over his shoulder, and he happens to meet Wooyoung’s eyes. Almost immediately, the younger man (he found out recently that Yunho was a handful of months older), quickly tears his eyes away and awkwardly busies himself by staring at one of the many wire basket displays of pajamas.

“Is that you, Wooyoung-ah? Mingi-yah?” Yunho asks, this time speaking in Korean, before he fumbles, a flush rising to his cheeks as he changes languages (again) to German, stuttering out a proper greeting, seeming to fluster further at the strange looks he gets from surrounding shoppers.

“You know him, Youngie?” Mingi tilts his head.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Wooyoung shoots back. He’s pretty sure that Mingi would’ve said something, or maybe Mingi did say something and Wooyoung missed it. It’s a little uncomfortable because the four of them are just standing there and Yunho’s friend looks terribly confused. “I’m Yunho’s guide.” Wooyoung finally says, because he now knows that Mingi already knows Yunho’s name.

Mingi’s lips part in a small ‘oh’ before he shoots Wooyoung a wicked grin, and the younger man stomps on his foot before he can say anything to embarrass the pianist. Mingi yelps in pain.

“I suppose I don’t really need to introduce him. But this is Song Mingi, one of my best friends and one of my roommates. I’m Jung Wooyoung.” He directs the introduction towards Yunho’s friend.

“Good afternoon,” Yunho bows politely. He glances down at his companion, who peers up at Yunho, then looks over to the other two with wide, rounded eyes, cheeks slightly puffed out as he appraises them. He looks a little but like a chipmunk. Yunho nudges him gently, as if reminding him to introduce himself.

“Oh! I’m Han Jisung, Yunho’s neighbor.” Jisung chirps. He’s bubbly.

“Hello,” Mingi tilts his head in greeting, but Wooyoung can see the mirth simmering beneath his skin, and he knows that Mingi is going to tease him like hell for this. But Wooyoung also wants to know how the hell Mingi and Yunho already know each other.

“Are you also shopping?” Yunho asks, curiously.

“That is what people do at a grocery store.” Wooyoung can’t help the acerbic comment from leaving his lips. Yunho frowns and Mingi elbows him sharply.

“We’re getting some ingredients for dinner.” Mingi cuts in with a cheery smile. Wooyoung watches as Mingi eyes the contents of Yunho’s and Jisung’s baskets – mostly snacks and instant meal items. His eyes flick over to Wooyoung, and he’s pretty sure he knows the words that are going to come out of his mouth next. “You two are welcome to come join us for dinner, if you’d like sometime.” Yunho blinks a couple of times, looking (adorably) confused, and Jisung tugs on his sleeve, speaking to him in the other language again. Yunho makes a soft noise of understanding.

“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Yunho starts, hesitating. “But I am pretty busy. Um. My schedule is full, I mean.”

“I already have a big project due this weekend,” Jisung apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know how much time I’ll have free.” He glances down at his watch. “Actually, we should start heading back soon. Yun, weren’t you going to call your friends?” Yunho peers at Jisung’s watch and his eyes widen in visible panic.

Yun?

“That’s not a problem!” Mingi waves them off easily. “We also live in Eichkamp, so you’re welcome to come over whenever. Well, Yunho knows that already. You should text me when you have free time, by the way.” He points at Yunho, who startles, and nods in agreement.

“Okay.” Yunho says, shifting his basket to his other hand. “As long as you’re certain.”

“I am.” Mingi gives Yunho a reassuring smile.

“I’ll do that, then.” Yunho nods rapidly. “Um, then.” He glances at Jisung, then at Wooyoung and Mingi, as if he’s uncertain if he can just leave or if it’ll be rude.

“C’mon, let’s get going! The next train is in ten minutes. We can make it if we run.” Jisung speaks in that same language again, tugging on Yunho’s arm. Yunho tips his head at them politely before he follows Jisung, hurrying down the aisles. There’s a clang when Yunho trips over one of the displays, and Jisung bursts into cackles, half dragging a stumbling Yunho with him to the register.

“So…” Mingi drawls, grinning when Wooyoung starts pushing the cart, his ears already burning.

“What.” Wooyoung grumbles.

“Is the reason you never told us about Yunho because you knew that we were gonna tease you about him?” Mingi asks. “I mean, he’s definitely your type. And you’re awkward when it comes to pretty guys who are your type so I’m sure that your first meeting went swell.” Wooyoung bites back the scowl that threatens to tug at his lips.

“How do you know him?” Wooyoung asks instead, trying to divert the conversation. Mingi shrugs and takes the bait.

“Well, I met him the second day he arrived. He was just standing outside by the gate for about ten or so minutes looking at his phone so I went out to see if he needed help. We spent the day in the city together, and I’ve been meeting up with him every couple of days to help him with his German.” Mingi tells him easily. Wooyoung blinks. “So? What’s your explanation?”

“I freaked out when I first met him.” Wooyoung sighs as he pushes the cart down the aisle, looking at the selection of onions and paprika. In other words, he had a fucking gay panic. “And I can’t stop being a fuckin’ asshole to him either. Things just come out of my mouth before I can stop them.” He lets his forehead thunk against the handlebar and Mingi rubs his back placatingly. “He probably thinks that I hate him, or something.”

“Maybe you should flirt with him.” Mingi suggests.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Wooyoung hisses, cheeks flushing. Mingi shrugs. “What if he isn’t… y’know…” He frowns. He briefly thinks of that time he’d joined Yunho’s call with his friends and the way that San had given him the death glare the entire time, especially whenever Wooyoung happened to brush up against the older man when readjusting his position. He highly doubts that the two of them are dating, but at the very least, he knows that Yunho’s (most likely) supportive based on his close friendship with the pretty couple.

“Meh. I’m pretty sure he’s gay. Or at least bi.” Mingi comments, snagging a bunch of green onions. Wooyoung blinks at him. “Yunho and I meet up at one of the cafes when I tutor him in German. There’s been a couple of times people come up to ask for his number and I’ll just say that the reactions are interesting.” Mingi shrugs, tossing the onions into the carriage. “I think it’s at least worth trying to talk to Yunho and try to clear up the fact that you don’t hate him.” Wooyoung shrugs helplessly. He’s tried, but he always chickens out or his stupid mouth spits out an insult.

“Do you want my help?” Mingi offers.

“It’s fine.” Wooyoung shakes his head. Something tells him that if he lets Mingi help, things would only get worse.

🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌🖌

Yunho is slowly getting used to life in Berlin. His neighbor is wonderful, and Jisung was also thrilled when he found out that Yunho spoke fluent Malay. Mingi’s been helping him with his German, and Jisung does as well – they often sit on the floor of either Yunho’s apartment or Jisung’s with their dinner or homework – and his friends adore them both.

He sees Wooyoung on occasion, but it seems like the younger man is intent on avoiding him, which Yunho doesn’t understand. Did he do something wrong? He feels something inside of him wilt a little more each time that Wooyoung ignores him or hurries past him. They don’t really see each other much anyways.

Yunho spends most of his time in the art studio with his canvases or out and about with Jisung taking photos. As far as he knows – or from what he’s learned from Mingi (and he’s also met Wooyoung’s other roommates) – Wooyoung spends almost all of his time holed up in one of the piano rooms in the apartment complexes. Mingi raves about Wooyoung’s talent on the piano and even shows Yunho a few videos. He wants to hear Wooyoung play, but he’s uncertain how to approach the other man about it.

He doesn’t really know when it started, the little crush he’s harbored onto the dual-tone haired young man. He’s attempted to confide in San and his friends about it, but San usually ends up having some sort of assignment due or an outing he has to go to, and Yunho lets him go, because he doesn’t want to keep San from his obligations. He actually hasn’t talked to San very much at all. The other man is always busy. Yunho sort of misses talking with San and seeing his dimpled smile.

But he’s still able to talk with Seonghwa and Yeosang, who offer him a couple of ideas, but they all require trying to talk with Wooyoung, and when the young man is actively avoiding Yunho, it’s difficult. Jisung is at a loss, too, and Yunho doesn’t want to ask Mingi about it.

There’s one night that Yunho can’t sleep, so he decides to just roam the apartment complex. He’s been down to the fitness rooms and other club rooms before, but he’s never really wandered too far. So he slips his phone, wallet and keys into his small travel pack along with a couple of granola bars, tugs a hoodie on over his head, and slips on some shoes. He shuts the door carefully, and makes his way to the stairs to walk outside.

It’s a little chilly, and Yunho tucks his nose into the collar of his hoodie. He walks around for about twenty or so minutes before he heads back inside of the building through a different door. As he enters the building quietly, he hears the sound of a piano drifting down the hall, and curious, because it is three in the morning, follows the sound. He sort of recognizes the melody, and whoever is playing is really good. He listens for a little longer, feeling awkward, because he’s just standing in a hallway at three in the morning, listening to whoever is in the studio room. There’s a stutter in the playing, a pause, and then there’s a frustrated yell, and the jarring sound of keys. Yunho grimaces. He’s never played an instrument, but there have been so many times that Yunho has had a breakdown in front of his canvases.

Whoever’s playing the piano starts again – it definitely sounds a bit angrier this time around – and Yunho wonders if the person would get pissed if he checked in on them. He pads down the hallway, and tentatively peeks through the window of the door. It’s Wooyoung. He blinks. Yunho’s pretty sure that Wooyoung doesn’t even live in this building.

Wooyoung’s brow is furrowed as he plays, and he looks exhausted. He gets to the same place that Yunho had heard him playing a few minutes earlier, and he stumbles, and this time, Wooyoung just lets his head drop into his hands, elbows hitting the keys. There’s a muffled scream. Yunho hesitates, before he raps lightly on the door. Wooyoung’s head shoots up, eyes narrowing briefly, before they lock on Yunho, who offers him a sheepish wave behind the window. Wooyoung makes a gesture for Yunho to come in, and he does, albeit a bit hesitant. He’s a little nervous that Wooyoung still thinks he’s a nuisance.

“What’re you doing here?” Wooyoung asks him as soon as the door closes. He doesn’t sound annoyed, at the very least. Yunho stops a few paces away from the piano.

“I could ask you the same.” Yunho replies softly, tilting his head. “It’s three in the morning.” He briefly recalls his first text conversation with Wooyoung. The exact same thing had happened. He glances around, and sure enough, there’s no clock in sight. Wooyoung blinks, before he turns to look out the window. There’s the sound of cracking bones, and the two of them grimace. “How long have you been here?” Yunho asks, quietly.

Wooyoung shrugs, rubbing at his eyes, shoulders slumping. Up close, Yunho can see that there are dark circles beneath his eyes, and not only does he look exhausted, but he’s pale. “Since around ten this morning?” Wooyoung guesses. “I don’t know. I went to get dinner at like… six… But other than that, I haven’t really moved. I need to keep practicing.” 

“If you wear yourself out, or go beyond your body’s capacity, you won’t be able to keep practicing.” Yunho tells him, watching the pinched expression on the pianist’s face. Wooyoung makes a move to stand up, but his legs seem to give out beneath him and he collapses, one hand slamming down on the keyboard as he tries to catch himself.

Yunho quickly rounds the piano and ignores Wooyoung’s protests, helping the other man to his feet. He can practically feel the way Wooyoung’s body shakes beneath his palm, and Wooyoung’s leaning heavily against Yunho even though it’s clear the pianist is trying to stand on his own. Yunho helps him sit back down on the piano bench, one of the pianist’s hands curled tightly around Yunho’s bicep as he tries to steady himself. His grip is strong.

“Do you have a bottle of water?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung shakes his head, then pauses, cursing beneath his breath. He’s probably lightheaded then, especially if he’s been here for the majority of the day without a water bottle – and having confirmed that he hasn’t moved. “I’ll be right back.” He digs through his bag and presses a granola bar into Wooyoung’s hands. “Eat that.” He instructs. Yunho darts out of the room and down the hallway, up four flights of stairs to his bedroom. He grabs two bottles of still water and makes his way back down to the piano room.

Wooyoung’s still there, nibbling on the granola bar, and glances up when Yunho pushes back into the room. “You don’t have to do this.” Wooyoung says quietly.

“I know.” Yunho replies simply, setting one bottle down on the window sill as he hands the other one to Wooyoung. Wooyoung takes it, but his hands are shaking, probably a result of over exerting his body’s capabilities for the past… Yunho does the math quickly in his head. “You’ve been here for seventeen hours? Just today?” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Sounds about right. I’ve spent most of the past couple days here trying to get this piece right.” He looks a little embarrassed to have Yunho help him drink from the water bottle. Yunho has a feeling that if he hadn’t been able to sleep or overheard the playing, Wooyoung would’ve still been here until morning – or until he passed out. “Why are you here?” He pauses, flustering, the plastic crinkling beneath his fingers. “Not in a rude way, just… it’s three am. Why are you awake?”

“I have a lot on my mind.” Yunho admits quietly. He’s busy trying to start a new series of projects for his final, he has to go out to several different places in Berlin to start taking photographs, he’s pretty sure that his best friend either hates him (or he’s busy) or he’s drifting away (and that terrifies Yunho, because he’s on another continent and he can’t go and directly confront San about it like he usually does), he’s also almost one hundred percent certain that he has a crush on Wooyoung but he’s also pretty sure that Wooyoung doesn’t like him at all.

He’s unable to help himself, moving before he can think too much of it, his thumbs rubbing circles gently on one of Wooyoung’s shoulders. The younger man slumps, letting his head thump up against Yunho’s side, since the artist is standing right next to him. Yunho ignores the fluttering of his heart.

“You should get back to your apartment.” Yunho tells him quietly, smoothing a hand through Wooyoung’s hair. “Why are you in this building, anyways?”

“It has better acoustics.” Wooyoung mumbles, leaning briefly into Yunho’s touch. He heaves out a sigh, and sits upright, stretching his limbs. Yunho grimaces at the crackling and popping sounds. There are a few moments of pause before Wooyoung curses. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Yunho asks, chewing his lower lip, resisting the urge to touch Wooyoung again.

“I forgot my fucking wallet.” Wooyoung scrubs a frustrated hand over his face. “I can’t get back into my apartment. Joongie’s not home tonight, and Jongho and Mingi are probably dead asleep.”

“You can stay over at mine if you want.” Yunho offers before he can think too much of it. Wooyoung blinks up at him, a soft and pink blush on his cheeks.

“H-huh?” Wooyoung blinks up at him. The stutter is sort of cute. Yunho glances away, staring at the music stands in the corner of the room, cheeks warm, one hand clasped behind his neck. He can feel Wooyoung’s eyes on him. Wooyoung takes another sip from the bottle.

“Well, you can’t get into your building, and neither can I at this time of night,” Yunho shifts. “And with all due respect, you’re really unsteady on your feet and I sort of want to make sure you make it to bed without hitting your head or collapsing.” Wooyoung is quiet for a few moments, chewing on his lower lip as he watches Yunho with a curious expression. “What?” Yunho asks, a little self-consciously.

“Nothing…” Wooyoung trails off. “Just… your German’s gotten a lot better. That’s all.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Yunho blinks. Wooyoung stifles a yawn. “Um, would you like to come with me?” He asks. Wooyoung looks hesitant. “It’s fine. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered, right?” 

Wooyoung smiles wryly at that. “Will there be enough room?” He asks, eyes flicking up and down Yunho’s form, eyes lingering in places that makes Yunho’s cheeks and neck warm. Yunho scratches at the back of his neck with his finger, feeling warm.

“Probably?” Yunho shrugs. “There’s enough room for me to splay out my limbs like this.” He demonstrates, lifting his arms, and Wooyoung’s lips twitch up into a small smile. “I don’t have any plans for tomorrow either, so you wouldn’t be intruding.”

“Okay.” Wooyoung nods, with a tired smile. “Thank you, it’s really generous of you.”

“It’s not a problem.” Yunho shakes his head. “Do you think you’ve regained feeling in your legs?” Yunho asks, after a few moments pause.

Wooyoung shrugs, gathering his piano sheet music up, turning around on the bench to tuck his folder and the bottles of water into a backpack that Yunho failed to notice earlier. Wooyoung braces a hand against the bench and the wall and gets to his feet, and a soft grunt escapes his lips as his knees buckle again.

Yunho reaches forward, hand just barely brushing up against Wooyoung’s waist. “Can I?” Wooyoung nods, his head slightly bowed, but the tips of his ears are pink. Yunho secures an arm around the younger man’s waist, letting Wooyoung lean heavily against him as they awkwardly shuffle out of the studio room. “Wait a moment.” Yunho says, before he readjusts the bag over his shoulder.

He releases Wooyoung briefly, and shifts, crouching slightly before him. He peers over his shoulder, tilting his head in a gesture for Wooyoung to get onto his back. “Get on,” Yunho says softly. “It’ll be faster.”

“The elevators are broken-” Wooyoung protests. Yunho shrugs.

“I’m not bothered. C’mon. You’re swaying on your feet.” Yunho urges. Wooyoung looks hesitant, but after a few moments, he carefully reaches down, warm hands – they’re larger than Yunho expected them to be – curling around Yunho’s shoulders and Wooyoung lets his weight drop onto the taller man’s back.

Yunho shifts, hooking his arms beneath Wooyoung’s legs, standing up slowly. Wooyoung’s pretty light, but Yunho’s still grateful for the times that Yeosang and San had dragged him to the gym back in Seoul. He makes sure that Wooyoung is secure, and heads back down the hall. He feels Wooyoung’s chin rest against his shoulder, cheek pressing just shy of his neck, his hair tickling Yunho’s cheek.

Wooyoung must be exhausted, because he’s already asleep by the time that Yunho climbs the stairs to the second floor. Yunho carefully unlocks his door as best he can without shifting too much. Wooyoung still shifts, though, and Yunho apologizes softly.

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung mumbles, wiggling to be let down.

“There’s a spare toothbrush beneath the sink, by the way.” Yunho tells him. “Let me grab you something a little more comfortable.”

“Oh… you don’t have to-” Wooyoung starts, but Yunho is already halfway up the stairs. He knows it’s not very comfortable to sleep in jeans. Wooyoung’s leaning against the wall and rubbing at his eyes when Yunho returns with a set of clothes in his hands, thumbing at his phone.

“Do you need to charge it?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung nods, and Yunho holds out his hand. “I can plug it in upstairs, if you want to get washed up.” He blinks at Wooyoung expectantly. Wooyoung sets his phone down in Yunho’s palm, their fingers brushing, and Wooyoung slips into the bathroom with a softly murmured thanks.

It’s only when Yunho has gone back upstairs to plug Wooyoung’s phone in, down to just a pair of sweatpants and now a short-sleeved shirt, that he’s just invited his crush – also someone he sort of doesn’t know that well – to spend the night with him and platonically share a bed with. And when Wooyoung comes padding up the stairs about five minutes later, looking adorably sleepy with one of Yunho’s long sleeved shirts hanging loosely off of his frame, Yunho feels his heart thud in his chest.

“Lights?” Wooyoung asks quietly. Yunho nods, and shuffles over so his back is pressed up against the wall. There’s a soft click and the room is flooded with darkness. He hears Wooyoung’s feet coming closer, and then the mattress dips. Wooyoung slides beneath the covers, his body brushing up against Yunho’s arm. “Thanks, Yunho.” Wooyoung says, shifting to lay on his back, mimicking Yunho’s position.

“No problem.” Yunho replies, just as quietly.

“I also want to apologize,” Wooyoung’s admission surprises Yunho.

“What for?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung’s quiet for a few moments, before he shifts, and Yunho’s breath hitches in his throat when Wooyoung turns to face him, eyes sparkling in the darkness.

“For being such an ass when we first met. For continuing to be an ass, really.” Wooyoung lets out a soft chuckle. Yunho can’t really see his facial expressions. “I panic easily in social situations and I cover it up with acerbic and sarcastic quips.”

“Oh. You don’t have to apologize for that.” Yunho shifts, turning his head to meet Wooyoung’s eyes. He flicks his gaze away a few moments later, awkward. “I uh… honestly sorta thought that I did something to offend you.” 

Wooyoung huffs out a breathy chuckle. He hums softly. “No, don’t worry. If anything, I was worried I offended you or something with my attitude. I’ve… never really met anyone like you before.” He says, and it sounds so soft and… something else that Yunho can’t place.

But before he can say anything in response, he hears a soft snore, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Goodnight, Wooyoung-ah.” He whispers, risking it as he reaches up, gently pushing back Wooyoung’s bangs from his eyes. He tucks himself beneath his blankets and closes his eyes, letting the soft sounds of Wooyoung’s even breaths lull him to sleep.

When Yunho wakes up, he finds his limbs tangled with Wooyoung’s. The younger man is still fast asleep, snoring softly up against Yunho’s shoulder, the two of them crowded up against the wall, the other half of the bed empty. One of Yunho’s arms is tucked beneath Wooyoung’s head, the other slung loosely over his waist. Wooyoung’s arm is curled up between their chests, the other one draped over the curve of Yunho’s ribs. Their legs are woven together, and Yunho feels so warm and comfy.

He drifts back off to sleep.

The next time he wakes up, it’s to the sound of an insistent buzzing from coming across the room. It’s not Yunho’s phone, because he doesn’t have any alarms set and his vibrations are off, so it’s probably Wooyoung’s phone. He lets out a disgruntled noise, and he hears Wooyoung let out a groan of annoyance, and Yunho’s heart jumps when the pianist cuddles in closer, burying his face into Yunho’s chest, and the artist is positive that Wooyoung can feel the way his pulse is thundering beneath his skin.

The buzzing stops for a few moments and the tension in Wooyoung’s shoulders bleeds out and he sags further into Yunho’s body, nuzzling even closer and Yunho thinks he might implode. He can’t help himself from gently carding his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair, though. 

The buzzing starts again.

“Wooyoung-ah, please do something about that,” Yunho mumbles, still half asleep.

“Don’t want to.” Wooyoung protests, voice muffled. “You’re warm and comfy.” As if to emphasize his point, he wiggles closer, arm tightening around where it’s now draped around Yunho’s waist. Yunho lets out a soft grunt when Wooyoung shuffles, lifting his head briefly from his pillow to squint across the room. He can make out the shape of Wooyoung’s phone on his nightstand.

He’s grateful for his long limbs, because he manages to snag the cord of the charger and drag the phone onto the bed and into his hand. It’s an incoming call from Mingi. When the phone stops buzzing, Yunho sees that Wooyoung has several missed calls and a bunch of text messages. The phone buzzes again with another call from Mingi and Yunho swipes his thumb across the screen before he can think too much of it.

“Wooyoung! Where are you? You’re not in the studio, you didn’t come back home, and we can’t find you.” Mingi’s voice comes through loud and panicked and Yunho grimaces, flinching. It’s too early for this. “You didn’t get kidnapped, did you? Did you collapse again? I mean you picked up so you’re not dead, at least. What happened?”

“Mingi-yah.” Yunho greets, tired, as he flops back down onto his pillows. There’s a pause on the end of the line.

“Uh, Yunho?”

“Yeah.” Yunho stifles a yawn. “Long story short, I found Wooyoung down in the studio rooms really early this morning. He didn’t have his wallet or keys with him and I offered to let him crash with me.”

“I see.” Mingi hums. “Is he awake?” Yunho glances down at Wooyoung, who peers up at him, half hidden in the blankets, blinking up at him tiredly. Yunho arches a brow, and Wooyoung shakes his head, burying himself beneath the blankets and trying to shuffle even closer to Yunho.

“No, he’s still asleep.” Yunho says, feeling a little bad about lying. “He looked really tired last night, so I’m not surprised.”

“Well, I’m glad to know that he’s with you and not some stranger who kidnapped him.” Mingi sighs. “Tell him to call me back when he wakes up, yeah?”

“Will do.” Yunho mumbles. “See you around, Mingi.”

“See you!” Mingi replies cheerfully before the line goes dead.

Yunho lets his arm flop down onto the bed again, Wooyoung’s phone falling from his grasp. “Your friends are worried about you.” Yunho supplies, words slurring together. Wooyoung makes an unintelligible noise. Yunho yawns, shifting to a more comfortable position, since the arm beneath Wooyoung’s head is starting to fall asleep.

“I know. I’ll call them back later.” Wooyoung replies, voice muffled. “Just… can we rest some more?”

We. Yunho doesn’t know why that makes his heart flutter. “Yeah.” Yunho says quietly. “I don’t have plans today anyways.” He finds himself resisting the urge to press a kiss to the top of Wooyoung’s head as the younger man’s breathing evens out once more, the arm thrown over Yunho’s body growing a little heavier as he falls asleep.

When Yunho wakes up for the third time, it’s to the sound of Wooyoung’s voice, low and murmuring, long fingers carding through his hair. Yunho blinks his eyes open blearily. At some point, Yunho somehow managed to end up with his arms wound around Wooyoung’s body, cheek pressed to the pianist’s sternum, slotted between the younger man’s legs as Wooyoung lays reclined on the pillows, cradling Yunho close. It’s awfully intimate.

“For the fifth time, Mingi, I’m fine. ” Wooyoung sounds exasperated. Yunho can just barely hear Mingi’s low voice on the other side of the line. He shifts, and the fingers in his hair still for a moment. Yunho risks tilting his head to peer up at Wooyoung, eyes half open, and the younger man greets him with a soft smile.

“Morning.” Yunho mumbles, shoving his face back into Wooyoung’s stomach. He hears the other man huff, fingers continuing to card through his hair.

“It’s one thirty in the afternoon.” Wooyoung comments. “Not morning anymore.”

“Shut up, time isn’t real.” Yunho rolls over, nearly face planting into the wall, hearing a snort of amusement from Wooyoung as the rest of his body hits the wall with a dull thud. Yunho drags one of his pillows to cover his head, and he’s just started to doze again when he feels Wooyoung shift, fingers tugging gently at his wrist and pillow.

“Yunho,” Wooyoung tries, sounding awfully amused. Yunho’s only response is a muffled groan. “Mingi wants to get lunch in thirty minutes and he wants you to come join us.” Yunho gathers his limbs beneath his body to roll onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, rubbing at his eyes. “You don’t have to come.” Wooyoung adds.

“No, it’s fine.” Yunho stifles a yawn. “Give me like… ten minutes.” Yunho faceplants into his pillow. Then he realizes something. He lifts his head again. “Do you need to go back and get changed or something?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung shrugs.

“I’m not too bothered.” Wooyoung says, before a playful grin crosses his face. “Besides, if I leave, how can I guarantee that you’ll be awake when the time comes?” He teases. Yunho feels his cheeks warm.

“Let me shower and change really quickly, then.” Yunho slides out of bed, nearly tripping when his foot gets caught in the sheets. Yunho digs through his drawers for a change of clothes, and glances over his shoulder. “I promise I’ll be awake by two.” Yunho says. “If you want, I can just meet you guys by the gate?”

“Alright.” Wooyoung nods. There’s a small smile tugging at his lips, and Yunho suddenly thinks that Wooyoung looks awfully domestic, leaning back casually in Yunho’s bed. He ignores the flush that threatens to crawl up his neck, and instead shuts the drawers and tucks the clothes close to his chest. “I’ll see you in about thirty then, Yunho.”

“See you then.” Yunho nods in return, before he pads down the stairs. He’s just turned the shower on when he hears Wooyoung’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and his front door opens and closes.

Yunho’s just getting ready to head out of the door when he gets a text from Wooyoung, telling him that they’ve just arrived at the gates. Yunho sends a quick text back – probably riddled with typos and grammatical mistakes – and double checks that he has everything (including his camera) before he slips out the door. He spots Mingi first, thanks to his height, and he blinks in surprise when he notices that his hair is no longer brown, but silver.

“Yunho!” Mingi waves enthusiastically.

“Hi,” Yunho greets them, a little shy. He bows briefly to Hongjoong and Jongho. He’s met them before, but only for a few minutes at a time.

“It’s nice of you to join us.” Hongjoong smiles. “Thanks for looking after Woo last night.”

“Ah… it was nothing.” Yunho shakes his head. He jumps a little when Mingi slings an arm over his shoulders, already starting to drag him down the street.

“What do you feel like eating, Yunho?” Mingi asks.

“Er-” Yunho blinks, glancing over his shoulder at the other three who’ve started to trail after them. “I don’t know.” Yunho shrugs. “What do you guys normally have?”

“Whatever we see first.” Mingi says, solemnly. Yunho barks out a laugh and Mingi grins. “Have you had any cravings recently? We’ve been to a few really good Korean restaurants.” Yunho takes a few moments to think about that.

“I’m down for anything.” Yunho replies. Mingi pouts. “Sorry, I’m not great at making decisions.” Yunho rubs the back of his neck. Mingi shrugs.

“No worries at all.” Mingi hums, tucking his hands into his pockets. He glances over his shoulder at the others. “Yah! You’re all so slow, hurry up!”

“You both have long legs,” Wooyoung replies huffily, rolling his eyes even as he increases his pace. “I also don’t want to third wheel, so slow the fuck down.”

“We’re not that bad!” Hongjoong protests, but Wooyoung ignores him, squeezing between Yunho and Mingi. Mingi throws Yunho an amused look, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, and Yunho bites back a small snort. Wooyoung pokes him in the side and Yunho jolts, staring down at him with a furrowed brow and a slight pout.

“What was that for?” Yunho asks. Wooyoung shrugs.

“He’s like a cat.” Mingi provides. “If you don’t give him attention, he’ll poke you until you do.” That earns him a jab to the side and he yelps, circling around them to cower on Yunho’s other side.

“Youngie!” Jongho calls.

“What?” Wooyoung glances over his shoulder. Yunho looks back curiously, but Mingi ends up pulling him to the side a moment later so he doesn’t run into a telephone pole. Jongho must say or gesture something, because Wooyoung sighs heavily and drops back to walk with them.

“You know,” Mingi starts, voice low but conversational.

“Hm?” Yunho blinks.

“Woo might be a bit of an ass, but he means well.” Mingi says. Yunho tilts his head.

“Oh. Uh, he mentioned that last night, actually.” Yunho provides. Mingi looks surprised.

“Damn. I’m surprised he actually said something.” Mingi shrugs. “If I’d known who you were sooner, I might’ve said something.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asks curiously.

“Well, we all knew that Woo had been requested to show a Korean exchange student around, but none of us knew your name. It was only until we ran into you and Jisung at Lidl that I realized who you were.” Mingi explains.

“I see.” Yunho nods. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Mingi asks with a carefree laugh. Yunho shrugs helplessly.

“It seemed like the right thing to do.” Yunho scratches the back of his neck as Mingi leads them down the stairs to the S-Bahn.

“I can see why Woo likes you.” Mingi grins, flashing Yunho a bright smile. Yunho nearly misses a step at that, hand flying out to steady himself, Mingi’s face flashing with alarm. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just tripped.” Yunho says, a little flustered as Mingi helps right him. His head is spinning, just a little bit. What exactly does Mingi mean by that? He glances over his shoulder, just in time to spot Wooyoung coming down the last couple of steps, sidling up to Yunho’s side with a gentle bump of his hip. “Hi.” Yunho says, fighting down the flush when it comes out a little breathless.

“Hi?” Wooyoung arches a brow, looking vaguely amused.

“What did they want?” Yunho asks, curiously.

“Oh, there was a sample in a song they couldn’t figure out the name of and wanted my help.” Wooyoung huffs, aggrieved. Hongjoong and Jongho are slowly descending the stairs together, heads close together as they stare down at the phone in the older man’s hand, an earbud in each of their ears. “Joongie’s working on a remix and he’s been looking for inspiration. Want to hear what they showed me?”

Yunho glances over at Mingi, but the silver-haired man already has his own earbuds popped into his head, bobbing his head along to whatever he’s listening to. His eyes flick up to the digital board. They have about five minutes until the next train, anyways. When he turns back to Wooyoung, the younger man is holding out an earbud that Yunho tentatively takes. He’s pretty sure he imagines it when he hears Wooyoung’s slight hitch of breath when their fingers brush. Wooyoung fiddles with his phone for a bit, before he starts playing the song.

It’s certainly… unique.

It starts off slow with a familiar tune, and the sound reverberates throughout his ear, fading, and Yunho guesses that it’s phasing from the left and right. There’s what Yunho guesses is a high-hat that starts, before it slightly speeds up, and a bass starts, electric and almost grungy, a vibrating noise, as if his ear is pressed up too closely against a speaker. The bass cuts out suddenly, slowing just a little bit, only leaving the chiming main melody, before it speeds up again and the bass is reintroduced, followed by jarring notes and tones.

He must look pretty skeptical about it – or uncertain – because he hears Wooyoung’s soft laughter, before the song changes to something softer. It’s one that Yunho also recognizes, though this one he knows the name of, and the lyrics of as well. He wonders if Wooyoung also knows Japanese.

“What’d you think?” Wooyoung asks, amused.

“Of which one?” Yunho blinks. Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

“Which one do you think?” Wooyoung teases. Yunho feels his cheeks flush.

“It was… alright.” Yunho admits. “It did sound familiar, though.”

“Hall of the Mountain King, composed by Edvard Grieg in 1875, incidental music for Henrik Ibsen’s play Peter Gynt, Suite number 1, opus 46, from 1876.” Wooyoung provides. When Yunho stares at him, in confusion and partial amazement, Wooyoung flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’m really enthusiastic when it comes to the Romantic period of music.”

“I think it’s really neat that you just know that off the top of your head.” Yunho says. Wooyoung shrugs, though he looks pleased. 

“Oh, speaking of knowing a lot of things,” Wooyoung says, and Yunho glances back down at him curiously. “How many languages do you know?” Yunho tilts his head.

“Uh… I speak fluent Korean, Japanese and Malay. I know some English, French and by extension Spanish and Italian. And I’m learning German now.” Yunho recalls. “I think that’s all.”

“You think that’s all?” Wooyoung looks torn between being shocked and impressed. “I struggle with two languages already, that’s damn impressive.”

“I’m just enthusiastic about languages.” Yunho mumbles, his cheeks burning.

“It’s attractive.” Wooyoung provides.

“Eh?” Yunho stutters. He’s never heard anyone call his nerd hobby attractive before. Most people eye him warily or disbelievingly and more often than not just change the topic. Wooyoung grins, seeming to enjoy flustering Yunho, because he leans in a little closer, Fujii Kaze’s voice crooning in their ears.

“Ever tried to woo someone in another language?”

You could be the first.

“No,” Yunho shakes his head.

“Shame.” Wooyoung hums, eyes flicking over Yunho’s features. Yunho’s throat and mouth are suddenly very dry and he flicks his tongue out over his lower lip. Wooyoung’s eyes follow it.

But before Wooyoung or Yunho can say or do anything, the train whooshes into the station, the sound of the wheels on the tracks drowning out the thundering pound of Yunho’s heart.