Despite all that, every time the boys arrange a new headache -- party, whatever -- and Seungcheol thinks about sitting this one out, they always manage to do the one thing that makes these stupid shindigs irresistible to Seungcheol.

They invite you.

And even though your course load can only be described as mountainous, your part-time job starts early tomorrow morning, and you far prefer getting at least half of a good night's sleep...

You're here. You're here while music blasts and people dance like the rent's due and something breaks every two and a half minutes, laughing at something Jeonghan said. Just within and out of reach.

You lean into the cushion behind you, your shoulders brushing his arm where it rests on the back of the couch. Seungcheol lets the warmth from your back seep through his skin like honey -- because why wouldn't he? You're comfortable where you are, and it's his job to be that "where".

"No, I'm serious!" you defend yourself against Jeonghan's teasing. A likely thing for him to be doing. "He's a total scaredy cat. That's why he always makes you guys run the yearly haunted house."

Soonyoung waves his hand dismissively. "No way. His family celebrates Halloween every year-- that's why he never runs it with us."

"As if!" With a sly smirk, you bump your shoulder into Seungcheol's side. "He hides out at my place every year, and we don't even watch scary movies, either."

Seungcheol rubs the spot you bumped even though it doesn't hurt at all. "We watch scary movies," he argues.

"Halloweentown doesn't count, Seungcheol."

"Now you're just trying to embarrass me--"

Someone calls out your name, and you turn your head, eyes widening,

"Oh shit," you breathe out.

Some guy strides up to the couch with the confidence and determination of a soldier, and every muscle in Seungcheol's body tenses.

You? After the initial surprise, your eyes brighten in that special way Seungcheol likes when you're looking at him.

And can't stand when it's anyone else.

Lifting yourself off the cushions and subsequently away from Seungcheol's arm, you approach the guy before he makes it all the way over to the couch. You touch a hand to his arm, lightly, familiar, a smile on your lips as you chuckle and say, "How the hell did you find me?"

Seungcheol's jaw clenches. He turns to Jeonghan. "Who is that?"

For once, Jeonghan was minding his own business, and he turns away from his conversation to see whom Seungcheol nodded at. "Ah," he says, all-knowing when it comes to who's who. "That's one of Seungkwan's friends. Chan. Lee Chan."

Seungcheol scrunches his nose. Chan, he mocks in his mind as he watches you lead the guy off somewhere. Lee Chan sure isn't holding back in the up-and-down glances. It's like he can't even believe you're there in front of him.

The thing is, you shouldn't be. Seungcheol grinds his teeth. The couch is where you should be, where you're comfortable and you're honey and you're next to him.

He stands.

Even though he knows the answer now, Seungcheol settles next to you, slings his arm over your shoulder, and interrupts whatever the loser was saying with, "Hey, Cherry. Who's your friend?" He lifts his chin a bit, peering down his nose at him with the closest he can get to a polite smile.

There. Lee Chan should get the message with that.

But instead of scurrying off with his tail between his legs like so many of your pursuers had before him, Chan barely acknowledges Seungcheol and just blinks at you. "Cherry?" he asks.

"Oh." You fluster a bit at the nickname, and Seungcheol grows hotter knowing Chan gets to see another one of his favourite expressions on you. "Um, the first of this guy's frat parties I went to, I drank way too much cherry vodka and did some...things. I can't even smell anything cherry-flavoured now without getting queasy." Using one arm to bashfully rub the back of your neck, you chuckle, the movement causing Seungcheol's arm to slip off your shoulders.

He looks for your eyes, which don't meet his. You didn't do that on purpose.

Did you?

"Anyway." You clear your throat and use one hand to gesture at your admirer. "This is Chan. Chan, this is Seungcheol. He's my, um..."

You look at him then, and the lack of answer hits him somewhere within his rib cage. He crosses his arms and turns to Chan. "How do you two know each other?"

He isn't used to having to ask questions like this, his reputation usually enough to deter any unwanted interactions. If this Chan guy is still standing here, though, it must mean he really, really wants to talk to you.

Chan opens his mouth, but you're faster. "Remember the destination wedding my mom's friends went to?"

Seungcheol nods. "The one where they brought you so you could watch their children?"

"Yeah." You glance at Chan, and it's almost like you're telling him something Seungcheol can't hear. "We met there."

Seungcheol's right hand grips harder onto his own arm. "I see."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Chan says, ignoring Seungcheol once again. He sends you what must be a charming smile. "Especially not here."

"Funny." But you don't laugh. "I didn't think I'd see you here either."

Alright. Enough.

Seungcheol makes a show of grabbing your plastic cup and looking inside. "Let's go get you something to drink," he says, noting your confusion but having none of it. "Nothing cherry, I promise."

Because Seungcheol is the one who knows you. Knows your likes and dislikes, your favourite colours, how you prefer your eggs, the smell of your shampoo...

The face you make when he touches your bare skin. The way desire flickers in your eyes like the hot coals of a campfire.

You shake your head, pulling your cup back and holding it close to your chest. "I'm okay. Thank you."

Seungcheol's brow furrows. "I really think we should go to the kitchen."

"I'm fine, Cheol."

Lifting his hand, he places it on your forearm. "Cherry--"

At the same time as you step away from his touch, Chan steps between you and Seungcheol. "How about you go get yourself a drink?" he says, chest almost imperceptibly puffed out. "I wanted to ask Cherry something in private, anyway."

The nickname Seungcheol gave you coming off of this little shit's tongue makes him seethe. "Ask them what, exactly?" he says through his teeth.

Chan doesn't falter. "I'm sure you don't want to know."

"I'm sure I do," Seungcheol grits out.

"Guys..." you try to cut in quietly, but both boys are too caught up in each other to notice.

Scoffing in amusement, Chan shakes his head before meeting Seungcheol's glare. "Then if you need to know: I wanted to ask if they enjoyed it."

Seungcheol's jaw clenches. "'Enjoyed it'?" he echoes.

"Hey," you try again, somewhere beyond the red fog closing in on him.

"Yes," Chan answers confidently, crossing his own arms now. "If the sounds they made for me are anything to go by, I bet they really enjoyed it -- enough for a repeat performance."

Surging forward, Seungcheol clutches the collar of Chan's shirt in his fist. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Chan smirks, taking delight in setting him off. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Seungcheol growls, pulling his other arm back to give this guy exactly the beating he deserves, but he's half a second too late.

You shove your foot into his stomach, and he stumbles back, fingers loosening from Chan's shirt. You push Chan back by the shoulder for good measure, and when you turn back again, the anger on your face turns Seungcheol's chest inside out.

This fire in your eyes is different than he's ever seen before. Your anger is no stranger to him, from the frustrations of life and all the shit you've had to go through, but you haven't been this mad at him since...

Fuck.

Since he didn't kiss you that night.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Seungcheol?" Your shoulders rise and fall with the anger coursing through you. It's like a wall has finally fallen, the way you look at him. "You're not some rom-com bad boy. Get a hold of yourself."

Seungcheol takes a breath, holding his stomach. "Cherry..."

"What?!" You throw your hands in the air and let them fall. The hints of the brawl that almost broke out had caught the attention of some people around already, but your exasperated voice turns even more heads. "What, Seungcheol? You decided you don't want to fuck me, and after that, you decided no one else can either?"

"I... That's not..."

You huff. "I don't care. I actually just don't care anymore. You know why I didn't tell you about this? Do you know why I never talk to you about this kind of shit?"

He doesn't want to know. But he has a feeling he needs to. "Cherry..."

"Because I knew you'd react like this," you tell him, eyes cold. "Why is it that just because you won't have me, I'm not allowed to have anyone?"

When Seungcheol has no response, Chan returns himself to the picture, standing beside you and putting his hand at the small of your back.

You spin. "And you." An accusatory finger gets thrust in Chan's face, settling under his widened eyes. "If you think you're getting a" --you spit the words-- "'repeat performance' after airing out my shit like that for some dumbfuck pissing contest, you're obviously not the same Chan I met before."

Mouth opening and closing like a fish on the chopping block, Chan sputters for a few seconds before you seemingly decide you don't care about what he would have to say.

You storm off, straight to Soonyoung, whom you grab by the arm and ask to take you home. He spares one glance in Seungcheol's direction, then nods at you with concern on his face.

He knows something Seungcheol doesn't, and it makes Seungcheol want to throw up.

With you gone, the party resumes its usual chaos and volume, although Seungcheol can feel the stares from every direction. Chan disappears somewhere. He doesn't care.

Somehow, Seungcheol finds himself back on the couch. It's a lot less comfortable without you next to him.

Jeonghan sits down with a sigh. "You fucked up, didn't you?"

Sunken into the cushions, Seungcheol shuts his eyes. "I've been fucking up."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Righting himself, Chan beams, his bright smile making Seungkwan's face twist in confusion. Chan's skipped out on just about every party he's ever been invited to since first year, and he'd been complaining about smell of the place just ten minutes ago. Seungkwan couldn't refute that, of course. A house full of twenty-somethings, and mostly frat guys at that? Not exactly ideal. Still, more than a couple of Seungkwan's (and by association, Chan's) friends are part of this fraternity, and the parties are extremely preferred to academic readings, in his opinion.

As Chan catches his breath, Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "You look like a madman."

"They're here!"

Seungkwan connects zero dots. "Who's here?"

"Donatello!"

Zero. "Who?"

"Seungkwan." Chan put both his hands on Seungkwan's shoulders. "My soulmate."

Two. His eyes widen. "The person from your cousin's weddimmfh--?!"

Chan slaps his hand over Seungkwan's mouth, frantically looking toward the common area before meeting eyes again and hushing out, "Shhh-- Yes! They're literally right over there on the couch! What are the odds!"

Seungkwan grabs Chan's hand and shoves it away. "Wasn't that wedding in another country? How the hell...?"

Something dangerously sparkly shines in Chan's eyes. "It's fate."

"Are you sure it's them?"

"You think I'd forget what the love of my life looks like?"

Seungkwan crosses his arms. "Chan, the love of your life left you in an empty hotel room."

"They had an early flight," Chan defends not for the first time, just as adamant as every other time he's told his friends about his whirlwind one-night romance.

"And they didn't leave you their number, or any social media."

Chan shrugs. "We were talking about life, not the internet." He smiles at the memories that must be flashing by in his mind. "And then we weren't talking."

"Don't even start there, dude." Seungkwan's heard more than enough in that department. "They didn't tell you their name."

"I--" The corners of Chan's mouth turn downward, and something like disappointment flashes over his face. "Yeah."

Seungkwan meant to bring Chan a bit closer to reality, but it wasn't his intention to totally bum the guy out. He takes a breath. "Why do you call them Donatello, again?"

Chan's eyes brighten. "They wore a purple blindfold for the pinata."

"Right. A pinata at a wedding."

"There were a bunch of kids!" He stares toward the common area again. "They were so cute with the kids..."

"Okay, okay, Splinter," Seungkwan says, putting a hand on Chan's shoulder and walking them both a little closer to the border between the kitchen and the packed common area. "Before you go imagining a whole nuclear family and white picket fence with this person, let me at least meet them. Where are they?"

Chan doesn't answer, just smiling into the crowd, and Seungkwan sighs. Lovestruck. That's what this is. He follows Chan's eyes to a couch all the way across the room, where someone kind of close to Chan's mystery Donatello's description is sitting, a strong arm slung over the cushion directly behind their shoulders.

An arm belonging to--

"Wait." Seungkwan grips Chan's arm stopping him from just waltzing right over. "Wait, Chan. It's not" --he points a shaky hand at you-- "them, is it?"

It's like Chan barely hears the question. He just lets out a dreamy (borderline creepy) sigh like a cartoon princess. "Perfect, right?"

"Chan, listen to me." Seungkwan spins Chan to face him and puts both his hands on his shoulders. "You cannot pursue this person. Absolutely not. They're off limits."

Snapping out of it, Chan frowns. "Off limits?"

"Entirely. They're Seungcheol's."

"Who?"

Seungkwan glances across the room again, where you laugh at something someone says, and the man in question -- with his arm not technically around you but pretty damn close -- looks at you with such a wide smile that his eyes become delighted crescents.

"Choi Seungcheol," Seungkwan explains, keeping his voice low even though no one in the immediate vicinity gives a shit what they're talking about. "He's the president here."

Chan looks over at you, sounding defeated when he asks, "They're dating?"

"Well..." Seungkwan hesitates, and Chan whips his head back.

"They're not dating?"

Grimacing, Seungkwan shakes his head, unsure of how to explain the mess that is you and Choi Seungcheol and this whole stupid fraternity. "They're-- No, they're not dating. I think. They're friends. I think. No one's really said it explicitly... but everyone knows not to make a move on Donatello because Seungcheol has, like..."

Chan frowns. "Dibs?"

"Ew, dude. They're a person."

Crossing his arms, Chan shrugs Seungkwan's hands off his shoulders. "I know. You're the one making it sound like that guy is treating them like they're not. So?"

"So?" Seungkwan echoes, confused.

"They're not dating, and this Choi Seungcheol person sounds like a piece of shit. So what am I still doing here?"

Blinking, Seungkwan just stares at Chan.

He thinks about it.

And after thinking for not very long, he nods and says, "Go. I've got your back."

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