Chapter Text
Pi was trapped.
Again.
Nam, a whirlwind of aggressive compliments and unwanted gifts, was closing in on him like a lovesick bee. He'd tried everything: polite rejections, blatant disinterest, even outright lies about being allergic to flowers which, admittedly, backfired when Nam showed up with a hypoallergenic succulent.
Nothing worked.
"Pi, darling, I got you these Swiss chocolates! They're handmade, just like your sophisticated taste!" Nam gushed, thrusting a heart-shaped box into his face.
Pi groaned inwardly. Sophisticated? He was currently wearing a stained band t-shirt and sweatpants. Desperate, he cast a pleading look around the student union. He saw Mork, leaning on a table, skillfully juggling a pen.
Mork, his best friend since freshman year, was infuriatingly attractive, effortlessly charming, and, worst of all, completely oblivious to the chaos he caused. Pi had a secret, a stupid, embarrassing secret that involved stolen glances, late-night thoughts and a growing collection of Mork-related doodles in his notebooks.
"Mork! Help!" Pi hissed under his breath.
Mork, ever the dramatic friend, faked deep thought, tapping his chin with the pen. "Hmm, tough situation. I guess the only thing you could say is that you're already seeing somebody."
Pi rolled his eyes. "Like who, Mork? You know I haven't been on a date since…well, ever."
Mork shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Me. I'll do it."
Pi stared, dumbfounded. "You'll…what?"
Before he could clarify, Nam swooped in. "Pi, who's this?"
Pi, in a moment of sheer panic and stupidity, grabbed Mork's arm. "Sorry, Nam. I'm taken! By… him!" He squeezed Mork's bicep for emphasis.
Nam scrutinised Mork, then back to Pi, disbelief warring with annoyance on his face. "Taken? Since when?"
Mork, without missing a beat, smoothly draped an arm around Pi's waist, pulling him close. "Since now. And I'd really like it if you didn't disturb my boyfriend." His voice was low, a little possessive, and sent a shiver down Pi's spine.
Nam, clearly defeated for the time being, huffed and stomped off, grumbling something about 'losing the element of surprise.'
Pi, still reeling at the audacity of it all, turned to Mork. "Thanks, I guess. But that was…intense."
Mork just grinned, a wide, mischievous grin that made Pi's heart miss a beat. "Gotta make it believable, right? So, boyfriend, what do you say we grab some lunch?"
Pi expected Mork to drop the act the minute Nam was out of sight. A quick "thanks for playing along", and they'd go back to normal, their relationship as platonic and comfortable as an old, well-worn sweater.
He was wrong.
The next morning, Pi found a coffee mug on his desk, complete with a sloppy heart doodle in the foam. Mork just winked and said, "Fuel for my hardworking boyfriend."
Then, during lunch, Mork slid his arm around Pi's waist, pulling him closer as they waited in line. Pi jumped, startled, but Mork just squeezed gently.
"Comfortable?" Mork asked, his breath tickling Pi's ear.
"Uh, yeah. Fine. Too comfortable, maybe," Pi mumbled, acutely aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.
The real kicker came that evening when their friends, Fan and Art, were teasing them mercilessly.
"So, Mork, how in the world did you finally get Pi?" Fan asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
"He couldn't resist my charm, obviously," Mork replied, winking at Pi. "He's been pining for ages."
Pi choked on his water. "I have not!"
"Denial is the first stage, my love," Mork said, reaching over to wipe a stray droplet from Pi's chin.
The casual touch, the pet names, the public displays of affection – it was all too much. Pi was baffled. Mork was really leaning into this.
"You're really leaning into this, huh?" Pi said later, as they walked back to their dorms.
Mork shrugged. "Gotta make it believable. Nam might be lurking."
But Pi started to notice things. The way Mork's hand lingered a little too long when he 'fixed' Pi's collar. How he remembered Pi's favourite brand of instant ramen and casually gifted him a pack. The way he hadn't dropped the act even when Nam was nowhere in sight. Their friends started treating them like an actual couple. Pi's protests grew weaker, swallowed by a strange, unfamiliar excitement.
One movie night, after watching a particularly cheesy rom-com, Mork walked Pi back to his apartment. The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows. Mork stopped in front of Pi's door, his hand hovering near Pi's cheek. He leaned in, close enough that Pi froze, heart hammering against his ribs.
"We don't have to pretend here!" Pi blurted out, his voice a little shaky.
Mork halted, his eyes scanning Pi's face. Then, he murmured, "Who said I was pretending?"
Pi’s brain short-circuited. "What?"
"You—you actually like me? For real?!" Pi stammered, completely flustered.
Mork raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Took you long enough."
Pi spluttered. "But you didn't even! All the hand-holding, the nicknames…you were serious?!"
Mork chuckled, a low rumble that made Pi's stomach flip. "I did say I'd be your fake boyfriend. Never said I'd be fake about it."
Pi stared at him, dumbfounded. The realisation dawned on him, slow and intense and ridiculously obvious. Mork wasn't playing a role. He was being himself, or at least, his most flirtatious, boyfriend-material self. All for Pi.
Still dazed from the information dump, Pi grumbled, "You're so annoying." But he didn't pull away when Mork interlocked their fingers.
Mork squeezed his hand. "But you like me anyway."
Pi avoided his gaze, muttering, "...Shut up."
Mork, instead of shutting up, leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Pi's cheek. His smug grin said he'd already won.
Pi, dazed and utterly, irrevocably smitten, finally understood. He didn't know what came next. Maybe they'd officially start dating, or maybe Pi still needed time to adjust to the sudden shift in their dynamic. Whatever the case, one thing was for sure. The fake boyfriend hadn't been lying. And somehow, that was the most real thing that had ever happened to Pi.
The future was uncertain, but as Mork pulled him into a hug, Pi knew one thing: he was definitely not allergic to this kind of attention.
Especially not from Mork.