#i get that they wanna create drama in this boring sport but that’s a HUMAN you’re talking to fucking hell

[iguessricciardo]

f1 journalists need to get some mandatory training to how they should speak to the drivers because it’s not normal to look a driver in the eyes and ask him why is he smiling???

[marksleepy]

i know you hate me, i know you like me

genre: fluff, angst word count: 2,722 A/N: love donghyuck. and jaemin is mentioned a lot in this

It took four years of friendship, three and a half years of pining, and seven months of deciding before Donghyuck confessed his feelings to you. Everything is, as you’ve expected, sunshine and rainbows and falling rose petals. As you lean against your vivid red locker, you tap on your phone screen to pretend you’re texting someone. Your heart is beating as if you’ve just got back from a three-mile run. You look up every few seconds and run your fingers through your hair to appear casual. The hall is crowded with students hugging textbooks to their chests and babbling zealously among themselves. The floor has lost its shininess, and you see a pencil lying neglected on the ground.

If happiness is perceptible by sight, it is seeing him run towards you. Donghyuck’s hair looks like the result of a blender malfunction. You don’t comment about it. In fact, you think he looks cuter.

“Hi,” he beams when he reaches you, his right hand hugging the right shoulder strap of his black schoolbag.

“Hi,” you breathe. People are looking in your direction, some pointing, even, lacking total subtlety. You can’t exactly blame them—he is the school’s heartthrob after all. You glare at them bitterly, but your view is suddenly blocked by someone’s forearm. Donghyuck had slammed his palm against the lockers, half trapping you. You look back at him as he leans in closer and closer.

His mouth is only about an inch away from your ear. “Y/N,” he says. You can tell he has that shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s not nice to frown at people.”

You place both hands on his shoulders and push him away gently, feeling your face growing warmer. “At least I don’t frown and point at others,” you retaliate. Donghyuck faces those staring at the two of you, the corner of his mouth still lifted, this time in amusement. He waves and the girls squeal. You sigh loudly before reaching for Donghyuck’s hand and pulling him away from the hallway and out of the school gates.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask as the two of you wait for the bus. Donghyuck digs into his bag and pulls out a quarter-filled water bottle. “What?” he questions after a long gulp of the liquid.

“Satisfying those screeching monsters.”

He shakes his bottle, creating a tiny water tornado. “Why? You jealous?”

You roll your eyes. “No. I’m just worried as to why they’re freaking out over some gross human being.”

The bus pulls over and a clamorous mob of students rush to get on. Donghyuck elbows you in the ribs. You clutch your side, groaning in pain.

“Stop overreacting,” Donghyuck grins. He stands beside an aisle seat and waits for you to occupy the window seat, knowing you prefer it to the other. “And for your information, that’s rude. How dare you say that about me?”

You ignore him and rest your head against the glass window, thankful for its coolness. The bus drives the same route every day, the scenery outside all familiar to the point where there is really nothing to admire. You listen to the incessant chatter of all the people—mainly students—sitting and standing around you. As the bus slows down to drop passengers and pick up more people, you turn to Donghyuck.

“Wanna have lunch together?” you ask. Spicy rice cakes sound really good at the moment.

He gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Wish I could, but I signed up for this soccer practice and there’s training today.”

You know the look on your face doesn’t hide the fact that you’re disappointed. But you don’t care. You and Donghyuck haven’t hung out much since both of you became a thing. And now, it saddens you that you’ve never heard of him talk about anything soccer-related.

“Are you just now telling me about your love for soccer?” you inquire, voice shaky due to the bumpy bus ride.

Donghyuck cocks his head to the side. “I’ve always loved soccer. I thought you didn’t like me talking about sports you don’t do.” He sinks into the seat, pouting.

“You can tell me anything next time.”

Silence settles between the pair of you. The bus door opens sideways every time the vehicle stops, welcoming more individuals on board. The door closes, accompanying it is the ding-dong sound of a bell. The bus lurches forward.

Donghyuck stands up as the bus approaches his stop. He walks down the now almost people-free aisle and takes one last look at you before hopping off the bus. As the bus picks up its speed, you give him one last wave and smiles a little as he does the same.

You stand in front of a vending machine, hitting the plastic display in distress. It’s definitely such a nightmare when these machines take your money and give you nothing in return. You fish in your wallet for more loose change, only to retrieve a pitiable total of 25 cents. You’re about to leave when someone pushes coins into the coin slot.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t have to look at said person to know it is Donghyuck.

You shoot him a suspicious look. “What do you want?”

He raises both hands as if surrendering. “I don’t want anything.” The way he says it makes the sentence sound more like a question.

“Then why are you nice to me?”

Donghyuck ‘tsks’ and watches you hit the button that sends a packet of something plunging to its death. “Just because I’m nice to you doesn’t mean I want something. Gosh, Y/N, I’m your boyfriend.” He wriggles his brows. You hit him with a pack of Cheetos, giddy when he mentions the word ‘boyfriend’.

Students huddle around each table in the cafeteria, and you’re about to saunter towards the table you always sit at when Donghyuck grabs your arm and drags you away from the noisy location. You see the familiar faces at the table—Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Yeri, Koeun (yes, what a huge group)—staring at you and Donghyuck in confusion. You present them with an I-don’t-know-what’s-happening-either look.

Donghyuck leads you to the school garden. He releases your hand, and it falls to your side lifelessly.

“Look, Y/N,” he starts. Is he breaking up with you? But it’s literally only been three weeks.

He observes the fish swimming in the murky pond. “You know about the lunch date this afternoon I promised would happen?” he continues. Oh, thank God.

You nod, still not seeing the point.

“Yeah, I can’t make it.” He lets out a sigh as though he’s been holding it in all day.

You clench your fists so tight it hurts. “Again?”

His jaw tightens and he keeps his gaze focused on the fish. “This is the last time. I promise.”

His words only fuel the fire burning within you. “You’ve been giving me the same damn excuse for a week straight. What’s keeping you busy?” you shout, ignoring the janitor walking by with a grubby mop. What angers you further is the fact that he knew you’d get worked up about it, so he brought you away from your friends (they’re technically his friends too but that’s not the main point).

“So you planned this, huh?” you press on. “Y/N would get angry, I’ll bring her to a quiet place and go with the same excuse—’cause she forgives me every time—then everything would be alright again,” you say in the best Donghyuck-voice you could muster.

“Y/N—”

“If you don’t even want to hang out with me, why did you even ask me out in the first place?”

The waves of guilt coming off him could drown you. You regret everything you’ve said, bracing yourself for whatever’s coming next.

Guilt slowly morphs into annoyance. “I don’t want to hang out with you? Did I choose to be busy?” He frowns at you. You almost snorted. How ironic is it that he claimed it was rude to frown at others?

“Three weeks, Donghyuck. The only times we actually hung out together during these three weeks were during lunch. In the cafeteria. With our friends,” you yell indignantly.

Donghyuck clumps away from you. You heave an irritated sigh, eyes damp. What a whole lot of teenage couple drama BS.

Donghyuck avoids you—and you avoid him—after the argument. Normally in the middle of lessons, he would turn his head back to look at you and smirk. He stopped doing that, and he also purposefully avoids your gaze in the hallway. Your friends have to suffer the awkwardness of having to sit with an all-too-quiet Donghyuck (it really is weird and uncomfortable) and an equally speechless you.

You wonder how long this is going to last.

Today, Donghyuck is nowhere to be seen during lunch. Mark too. You place your sweating packet of milk on the table in front of you and plop down next to Yeri, facing Renjun. The guys and girls share a glance.

Jaemin clears his throat exaggeratedly. “Where’s Donghyuck?”

You pierce the sharp end of a straw into the lid of the milk. “Who cares? Where’s Mark?”

Renjun looks as the milk spills onto your hand. “Um, Y/N—” he says. He stops when he sees the look in your eyes.

“I’m sure Mark’s consoling Dong—” Jeno starts, but Jaemin slaps a hand over his mouth.

Koeun plays with bangs using her thumb and index finger, resting her chin in the palm of her other hand. Yeri gives you a sad smile, and her eyebrows looking like the number eight in Chinese characters.

Jaemin tosses you a tissue. “Tell you what,” he says between slurps of noodles. “Come over to mine this evening.”

Jeno jumps from his seat (figuratively). “Woah, bro. Slow down.” Koeun thumps Jaemin on the head, earning a scowl from him.

“Would you guys let me finish?” he blurts out while rubbing his head. He sets the pair of chopsticks on the edges of the bowl. “I know of some people who are great with these stuff.”

“What stuff?” you quiz. You wipe your sticky hand with the tissue, giving up seconds later since it isn’t cleaning much. Scrunching it into a ball, you let it stay hidden in your palm.

“Relationship… Complications.”

You cross your arms. “Come on. Sulky Donghyuck is boring,” Jaemin coaxes you. “Trust me.”

You hear Yeri mumble “Oh God” under her breath, but you say, “What time?”

You should’ve trusted Yeri. It’s a bad idea. Jaemin’s “love doctors” are seated in front of you. They insist that you occupy one couch while the rest of them sit opposite you so that the whole situation seems more professional. You rest the left part of your face in your palm, showing no signs of interest.

“Okay, doctors, what do you say?” Jaemin grins, gesturing at you. You resist the urge to stand up and yank his arms out.

“Seriously, Jaemin? What the shit is this?” you ask, giving him a piercing look.

“Wow, Y/N, calm down,” Taeyong says, smoothing his hair down. You knew Taeyong through Donghyuck, whom Donghyuck loves to tease. You also knew the remaining “love doctors” through him. In short, the majority of Donghyuck’s friends are your friends.

You slide your feet on the pale yellow wool carpet, shutting up immediately. No matter how close you are to Taeyong, he is still older than you.

Love doctor #2 Johnny sips on his coffee. “You should just talk to Donghyuck, Y/N,” he says, stirring his cup of joe. He looks like that rich man you see in movies who wears a suit and drinks expensive coffees.

You shake your head. No way are you going to apologise first. That would mean you’re the first to give in, and you’re not about to let that happen.

Love doctor #3 Jaehyun claps his hands. “You know what? This isn’t working. Y/N, just go grab the poker cards from Jaemin’s room,” he orders, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

“What the hell, hyung?” Jaemin exclaims. He rushes to stand up, but Jaehyun tugs at his arm, making him fall back down on the couch. You stand up and give them dirty looks before shuffling to Jaemin’s room. So much for being “great with these stuff”.

You step into the bedroom, shivering involuntarily. Why on God’s green earth is the air conditioner turned on? Yeah, it is hot out, but if someone wants to leave the air conditioner on, shouldn’t he or she actually stay in the room? You walk towards Jaemin’s study desk, rummaging through his drawers. You push a drawer shut with much force and proceed to the next drawer.

If you were a deck of playing cards, where would you be?

Suddenly, the door behind closes and there is a click. Your mouth fell open as you grab onto the door handle and attempt to open the door.

“Hey!” you call. But all you could hear is laughter and the front door slamming, then silence follows.

You slide your back down the door and sit on the floor like a damsel in distress. At this moment, the lump on Jaemin’s bed shifts. You press one hand to your chest, feeling your heart race. What the…?

The lump under the sheets groans, and the covers are soon kicked off.

“Donghyuck?” you squeak as you stand up slowly.

Donghyuck rubs his eyes and sits up, his legs hanging off the end of the bed.

“Y/N?” he says, voice husky from sleep. The sight of him hits you like a punch, and it is at this moment when you realise how much you miss him.

You wish you had seen him earlier. You could’ve seen him curled up on his side with only his face visible while the rest of his body lies hidden under the covers. You love the contrast of his sun-kissed skin with the white sheets. You want to so badly crawl up next to him and curl up as tightly and as closely as possible.

“Are you with Jaemin now?” he mumbles, gaze falling to the stained carpet.

“What?” Your eyes stay fixed on him. “No!”

He lies back against the lumpy pillows unspeaking. “Jaehyun told me to get cards,” you explain, inching towards him steadily.

He bolts upright.

“Same.”

Eventually, it dawns on you that this whole thing is part of their plan. You hear the humming of the AC and Donghyuck’s steady breathing. The AC is blowing full force at you and you’re shaking like crazy. He steps closer and loops his arm around your shoulder, instantly warming you up. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest against you and the comforting beat of his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair. You bury your head against him.

“Is this the part when we make up?” you ask, wincing at how cheesy that sound.

“And make out.”

“Donghyuck.”

But you wrap your arms around his neck and presses your lips lightly on his. You finally understand why people describe kisses—especially first kisses—as electrifying. His breath catches in his throat. He kisses you back with no hesitation or fear. All you could feel now is Donghyuck’s lips against yours, Donghyuck’s hands tangled in your hair, Donghyuck’s warmth.

The door opens approximately five minutes later and you leap out of Donghyuck’s embrace.

“Ew,” Jaemin sneers. “Stop lip-locking in my room.”

You pick up a pillow and throw it at him. “Next time knock before entering,” you reply.

“Who knocks on their own bedroom door?”

You watch with a big smile on your face as Donghyuck proceeds to give Jaemin noogies.

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all.