(Taoris) The Pros & Cons of Overthinking (part 1)
Title: The Pros & Cons of Overthinking
Rating: Pg-13
Word count: 7646
Summary: in which Wufan is a Greek god and Zitao thinks with his dick.
Zitao has a habit. It’s nothing very serious; he doesn't drink, do drugs, or smoke (though, on one occasion, a friend convinced him to take one puff of a cigarette and he claimed he could feel the cancer cells forming in his lungs). It's not sex, either (although apparently he does have a few issues with um, an overactive dick??). He reads, does wushu, and enjoys a good cup of coffee early in the morning when he can feel the caffeine work its way into his system - but really, it's not any of that, either.
No, it's not any of that. But it is something that makes his everyday life a mess because most of the time he can't control it and he wonders if people can notice him doing it and if they look at him and can tell that he goes to bed at four in the morning because he can't sleep because he's too busy with this stupid goddamn habit and would they be able to tell he likes guys because sometimes he thinks that's something pretty obvious about him-
Ugh. He's doing it again. Overthinking.
"Zitao, it's 4:00 in the afternoon, can you please stop making that face? Aren't you too tired to be thinking so much right now?" Luhan asks as he sits down in the chair next to Zitao. They're in the library, studying, except that Zitao hasn't even taken anything out his bag yet because he's too busy wondering how badly he could do on his psychology test and still pass because he doesn't even know if he can keep going to that class and-
"Don't you have wushu in, like, an hour?" Luhan interrupts his thoughts, the sound of his textbook hitting the table causing Zitao to start and sit up straight.
"Yes, I do," he says stiffly.
"Well then, shouldn't you be in a better mood?" Luhan continues, giving him a look. "I thought you liked wushu."
"I do," Zitao sighs, finally reaching for his bag to retrieve the homework he could have started an hour ago and wow, had he really spent that long doing nothing because now he has almost no time to do it-
"Zitao," Luhan says pointedly.
"Sorry," Zitao mutters.
"Remind me again why I'm friends with you," Luhan grumbles, shaking his head.
"Because if you weren't there to help me, I'd end up thinking myself to death?" Zitao offers, and Luhan rolls his eyes.
"How tragic."
"Shut up. It could happen."
"Zitao, you really do think too much."
"That's what my psych professor said when she handed back the quiz we took last week. Can you believe she took off points because my answer was too long?" Zitao says frustratedly.
"It depends. How long is too long?" Luhan asks skeptically.
"It's psychology!" Zitao says, exasperated. "I should get extra points for how deep I was!"
"Unless your answer was like 2 pages," Luhan says. Zitao stops talking.
After about only 15 minutes of working (wow, he really didn't get anything done did he), Zitao has to pack his stuff up and head out to catch the bus to go to practice.
"Don't worry," Luhan assures him, "You'll feel better once you kick some wushu butt."
"We don't call it kicking wushu butt," Zitao replies, affronted.
He has to hurry because the bus is supposed to be there in 5 minutes except that he's running late and what if the bus was early and he already missed it and then he'd have to wait half an hour for the next bus and by the time he got to practice, his shifu would-
But as he nears the bus stop, he sees other students are still waiting, so he sighs with relief and joins them. Despite that he spends a ridiculous amount of time overthinking and worrying, for the most part, his thoughts are never very realistic.
The bus arrives shortly, and Zitao boards, choosing a seat at the back of the bus because if he sits at the front, then everyone can see him and what if they can tell he bombed his psych quiz and what if they notice him checking out that slightly attractive male a few seats away-
"Wait a second, I know him," Zitao mutters before raising his voice a bit to call out, "Jongdae!"
Said slightly attractive male turns his head at the mention of his name, and he smiles when he sees Zitao, although Zitao can't tell if that's a genuine smile or an "oh god the gay freak with the thinking complex just spoke to me" kind of smile.
"Long time no see," Jongdae says as he moves to sit next to Zitao, so maybe it was a genuine smile because after all, the two of them are friends or at least that’s what Zitao thought but he’s not too sure. "How are you?"
"Failing psych," Zitao replies honestly, earning a laugh from Jongdae. "What about you?"
"I'm not bad," Jongdae says with an amused chuckle. "Not failing any classes, so I suppose that's good. Where are you headed?"
"Wushu. I have so much work to do, though," Zitao says with a sigh. "I wish I could skip. And you? You're working at a cafe, right?” Jongdae nods. “How’s that going?”
“Pretty good. It’s a nice place, you should come by sometime,” he offers. “I might be able to give you a free coffee.” Zitao does like coffee. And attractive male friends.
“Sure, if I have time I can check it out this week,” he agrees.
Their conversation ends after that and Jongdae takes out an mp3 player and some headphones. Zitao of course worries that it’s because Jongdae doesn’t want to talk to him anymore because somehow Jongdae realized that Zitao was decidedly homosexual and wow he’d probably be pretty grossed out if Zitao admitted that he found him cute-
Zitao’s train of thought completely derails when the bus pulls up to the next stop and a very tall, very attractive boy gets on. It takes practically all of Zitao’s willpower and wushu training not to ogle this boy because damn, he is seriously hot.
Dirty blond hair falls messily across his face, which Zitao might say is the face of a god, and he wears an expression that might be described as “bitch-face,” but Jesus christ it looks so goddamn attractive on him that Zitao doesn’t even care.
The boy stands at the front of the bus for a moment, looking for a seat, and for a split second, their eyes meet. Well, for a long split second, and during that time, Zitao's brain completely overloads and he literally can't think at all. But then the boy is moving to sit in the seat that Jongdae had occupied before Zitao had called out to him, and Zitao's mind starts working again and shit did that mean that if Jongdae had stayed there, that Greek god would have come to sit next to Zitao because wow, just looking at him was one thing, but sitting directly next to him might have fried not only Zitao's brain but also his dick- oh god, he really should not be thinking like this.
Zitao can't stop staring at that boy for the rest of the ride. He's also there on the trip back.
"Luhan, Luhan, he was a fucking GOD," Zitao bursts out when he see Luhan the next day. They’re working outside, as the weather proves itself quite nice that day, and Zitao’s voice is loud enough that some of the other students look over at him and does that mean they think Zitao is a freak because really, if he’s speaking honestly-
“So you saw this guy on the bus,” Luhan says, stopping Zitao before he gets ahead of himself.
“Yes. Yes, ohmygod, and he looked over me and I thought time stopped for a minute because I wasn’t thinking at all but wow-” Zitao starts, but Luhan interrupts him,
“Wait, you weren’t thinking at all? Wow, this guy did something good for you,” he says approvingly while Zitao frowns at him.
“But that’s not the point,” Zitao whines, “I’m saying this fucking gorgeous boy got on the bus and looked at me, don’t you care at all?”
“No, not really,” Luhan shrugs and Zitao glares at him. “Come on, what are the chances you’ll see him again?”
“Next to nothing, I presume,” Zitao sighs dramatically. There is the offhand chance the boy will ride again because what if he has somewhere to go at the same time that Zitao has wushu and what if they happen to lock eyes again because somehow that boy was also severely attracted to Zitao and then they get off at the same stop to make out-
“Goddammit, can you please make it less obvious what you’re imagining?” Luhan interjects, which is when Zitao notices the disgusted look on his face.
“What? I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you and your boyfriend do,” he says indifferently, which sparks a rather vivid shade of red across Luhan’s face.
“Hey,” he exclaims, but Zitao is shaking his head.
“Whatever. I’m just gonna keep pretending that look meant something and that I’m going to get on the bus tomorrow and he’s going to be there and we’re going to waltz off to the nearest hotel to have sex.”
“I’m going to punch you in the face,” Luhan says.
Zitao checks and double-checks his appearance using his iPod camera. No hair out of place, no unsightly wrinkles in his shirt, really, he wants to look his best if he’s going to see that attractive boy again. Wow, he really hopes he sees that boy again because he doesn’t usually put this much effort into how he looks and what if he doesn’t see him and what if all of this is completely pointless because mostly it was Zitao’s stupid habit that made him get so excited about it in the goddamn first place-
With a sigh, Zitao gives one last look towards his iPod before the bus arrives and he boards it.
He feels kind of gross actually. His throat is dry and he’s sweating quite a bit, which probably won’t matter in the long run because he’s going to wushu, but his stomach hurts too and fuck, he doesn’t normally get this hot and bothered by people but that damn Greek god boy really grabbed his dick- er, attention.
Can the other passengers see that he’s freaking out this much??
As the bus pulls up to the next stop, Zitao almost screams when he sees the familiar head of messy blond hair.
“His name’s Wufan,” Zitao proudly tells Luhan once they’ve settled down outside with their lunch.
“You talked to him?” Luhan asks, almost dropping his bubble tea.
“No, Jesus, where did you get that idea?” Zitao replies, insulted, giving him a look. “He had a friend with him this time and I happened to overhear his name.” Luhan stares at him.
“I am judging you so hard right now, OK,” the older boy sighs, shaking his head slowly.
“I couldn’t help it,” Zitao pouts, folding his arms. “He sat really close to me this time. It wasn’t like I could just not pay attention to what they were saying, but wow, can I just say that he has such a great voice?” He smiles dreamily. “I wonder if he raps or something.” Luhan rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful.
“Well, I’d rather hear about this Wufan guy than the psych test you know you’re going to fail,” he mutters.
“Oh god,” Zitao groans, “Psych.”
Zitao is exceedingly pleased to discover that on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday when he catches the 4:30 bus to go to wushu, Wufan always gets on at the stop after his and gets off one stop before. He also likes to think that he and Wufan lock gazes each time, and that Wufan finds him just as motherfucking attractive and that Wufan also imagines the same R-rated scenes that go through Zitao’s head- but that could just be Zitao’s dick talking.
Really, though, it's all Wufan's fault for being such a sexy, deep-voiced, bitch-faced god. Zitao kind of wants to punch him in the balls. Er.
But for a while, he gets used to seeing Wufan each day, the bus rides to and from practice soon becoming more relevant than the practice itself (oh god, Zitao thinks, am I losing my wushu magic). Sometimes the gorgeous boy is with a friend, which of course causes Zitao to worry about whether or not Wufan is single (and, well, gay for that matter, or at least bisexual because Zitao normally crushes on gay guys, but he also normally crushes on guys he knows, so he can't really be too sure).
He does fail his psych test, with a big red "TOO LONG" written next to each answer, but honestly he doesn't even care because Wufan is just way too goddamn distracting for his own good.
After seven weeks and counting (god, this is really messed up isn't it, Zitao thinks) of observing with no progress (because well, fuck, how is he supposed to talk to Wufan without seeming like a complete freaking stalker???), Zitao finally gets his chance. Although, the situation is a great deal awkward and probably the worst way possible for Zitao to announce his existence to the the boy he's been watching for more than a month.
It's Friday. Zitao's in a good mood because for once he actually got a decent grade on one of his psych assignments (mostly because he had to force himself not to write a five page essay), so he's all smiles and sunshine when he sees Wufan get on the bus because wow, it's a really nice day and he looks particularly perfect, maybe a little more so than usual, but Zitao kind of sort of smiles at him? And then, well, he sort of keeps staring at Wufan for the rest of the ride? Either way, he notices that when Wufan gets up to get off the bus, he drops something - his keys? - and that's not good because he's going to need those, so Zitao gets up without thinking (which is like a miracle because duh, this is Zitao) and grabs them and asks the bus driver to wait a minute while he steps off of the bus and calls, "Wufan!"
It isn't until Wufan turns around, a confused and bewildered expression on his beautiful, god-like face, that Zitao realizes: fuck, he just graduated from closeted freak to open stalker.
After a prolonged moment of Zitao imagining all the possible ways he could kill himself right now, he manages to mutter, "You, um, you dropped..." But the words won't come out and oh god, Wufan looks so goddamn cute when he's confused, but now he'll probably never want to see Zitao again, and what if he stops riding that bus because he-
Zitao forces himself to stop thinking, practically hurls Wufan's keys at him, and then bolts back onto the bus.
He purposefully waits to catch a later bus on the way back.
"Luhan, if I kill myself, will you promise to bury my body?" Zitao asks from where he's slouched over the library table that he and Luhan are working at. It's raining today, so the two are forced to work inside and goddammit all because this weather does absolutely nothing for Zitao's god-awful mood.
"No,” Luhan responds dryly, not looking up from his calculus textbook. Zitao makes a noise between a whimper and a groan. “You’re really annoying, you know that?"
"Ohmygod, Luhan, you don't understand!" Zitao wails, not caring when a few people from the table across from them shush him rather violently. "He probably thinks I'm some kind of psycho now and what if I ruined any chance I had at talking to him, I mean, Jesus christ, the only thing I was even able to find out about him was his name, but that's probably the only memory I'll ever have of him now because I didn't think for once!"
"Zitao, even if he did think you were a psycho, it's only the truth," Luhan says. "And now, not only do you think too much, you talk too much."
"Wow, you're such a great friend," Zitao grumbles sarcastically.
"I know," Luhan gives him a bright smile.
"Can't you have at least some sympathy? I just practically had my freaking heart broken!" he complains.
"Don't you mean your dick?" Luhan readily points out.
"I really, really hate you," Zitao mutters mutinously. Luhan just grins.
Zitao does not want to get on the bus. If he doesn't, wow, he'd be skipping the first half of practice, but he doesn't know if he can risk seeing Wufan again. Should he catch the next bus? Should he ride this bus and just act completely oblivious when he sees Wufan? Could he really do that, though, because this is Zitao, and if it's Wufan, trying to ignore him might be asking the impossible, but shit, Zitao is so nervous he's sure he's going to vomit everything he's ever eaten since birth-
"Are you going to get on? I'm going to be late to my next stop," the bus driver says, and then Zitao remembers that he's been standing with one foot on the bus for like 5 minutes now, and Jesus christ, that's embarrassing.
"Um, yeah, sorry," he mumbles as he gets on. He feels like crying.
It starts raining lightly once Zitao sits down, which sort of makes him glad he had caught the bus because ew, rain, but he'd rather try not to think at all right now because if he does he's going to pass out.
As the bus pulls up to its next stop, Zitao shrinks in his seat. Oh god, why did he decide this was a good idea oh god oh god oh god Wufan oh god.
He attempts to hide behind, well anything, but wow, that was stupid because Wufan can obviously still see him and Jesus fucking christ is he walking this way, please don't say he's approaching Zitao because oh god Zitao is going to puke on him.
"Um," Wufan says awkwardly, but wow his voice is so fucking perfect, "Thanks. For the other day."
It takes Zitao a long moment to figure out that Wufan is thanking him for giving him the keys and no, fucking no, why in the world would he be thanking Zitao for calling his name when technically they don't know each other- oh god he's sitting next to Zitao oh god oh god oh god.
"Yeah," Zitao mumbles. He really wants to crawl into a hole and die.
"Um, you," Wufan starts to say, but he stops and seems to think about what he's trying to say, and oh god can Zitao fit his body out of the bus window because- "What's your name?" -What?
"Z-Zitao, it's-it's Zitao," he manages to reply, but Jesus christ he was so close to replying with gibberish or something and then Wufan would have thought he was mentally retarded-
"Zitao," Wufan repeats, and goddamn hearing him say Zitao's name seriously turns him on-
"Ohmygod, I'm really sorry," Zitao blurts suddenly, taking Wufan by surprise, "I know it's so creepy that I knew your name, but I overheard your friend say it one time, and well, I kind of was watching you so I saw your keys fall and I wasn't thinking when I called after you-"
"It's OK."
"-and ohmygod, I completely understand if you never want to see me-" Zitao stops abruptly, mouth hanging open as he realizes what Wufan said. "You mean, you're not totally turned off by me knowing your name and-" shit did Zitao really just say 'turned off' because oh god that sounds kind of-
"Um, well, I guess it is kind of weird, but," Wufan smiles sheepishly, "I um, kind of, was watching you. Um. Too."
Jesus fucking christ, Zitao thinks, My dick cannot be contained.
There are a few things Zitao learns about Wufan that day.
One: Wufan is like three years older than him (which, ugh, is seriously hot if he thinks about, but he’s been making an effort not to think too much these days).
Two: Wufan is a bartender (seriously, could he have had a sexier job???) which is where he’s been going when Zitao sees him on the bus each day.
Three: Wufan really does have chronic bitch-face, whether he knows it or not (but really, it’s not too much of a problem because, um, hello, he’s a fucking god).
And four: Wufan seems to genuinely have an interest in Zitao (does that include Zitao’s dick or-), which is by far the most important thing.
“Can you please stop drooling all over the table?” Luhan says distastefully as he joins Zitao at their usual library table. It’s raining again, but wow, Zitao is in such a good mood that honestly, he doesn’t care about the weather or Luhan’s sarcasm.
“No, I’m actually not,” he clarifies, sitting up straight and grinning smugly, “But you’ll never believe what happened.” Luhan gives him a straight-faced look.
“What,” he says dully.
“No, no, you have to guess,” Zitao says eagerly.
“But you hate when I guess,” Luhan sighs.
“Good point,” Zitao nods. “Well then, I’ll just tell you. Wufan gave me his phone number,” he says, so proudly that Luhan just stares at him for a minute.
“So you talked to him,” Luhan says.
“No, God, Luhan, you really should stay away from guessing,” Zitao says, giving him a look.
“You’re the one who told me to guess,” Luhan rolls his eyes.
“I’ll have you know, my good fellow, that he talked to me,” Zitao informs the older boy with an air of importance.
“Well, you kind of gave him no choice, considering you kind of called out his name when you guys didn’t even know each other,” Luhan mutters, and Zitao’s smile promptly disappears.
“Wow, you really know how to ruin a mood. Jesus christ, Luhan, why don’t you get a job in the ‘mood-ruining’ business because I’m sure you’d make a fortune,” he says sarcastically, glaring as he leans against the table.
Luhan shrugs. “So things went well, then, I assume? I mean, you got his phone number. I’m sure your dick is ecstatic.”
“Ohmygod, Luhan, stop it!” Zitao whines. “I really don’t want to punch you in the face, but if I have to-”
“I almost preferred you when you were just obsessively worried about the next psych test,” Luhan says, shaking his head.
“What care I for psych when there is such a man??” Zitao exclaims dramatically.
“Oh god, did you just quote a Jane Austen book?” Luhan asks, pretending to gag.
“What?” Zitao shrugs, “We were watching Sense & Sensibility in my lit class.” Luhan stands up while he’s still talking. “Hey, where are you going?”
“To buy some earplugs.”
part 2
Rating: Pg-13
Word count: 7646
Summary: in which Wufan is a Greek god and Zitao thinks with his dick.
Zitao has a habit. It’s nothing very serious; he doesn't drink, do drugs, or smoke (though, on one occasion, a friend convinced him to take one puff of a cigarette and he claimed he could feel the cancer cells forming in his lungs). It's not sex, either (although apparently he does have a few issues with um, an overactive dick??). He reads, does wushu, and enjoys a good cup of coffee early in the morning when he can feel the caffeine work its way into his system - but really, it's not any of that, either.
No, it's not any of that. But it is something that makes his everyday life a mess because most of the time he can't control it and he wonders if people can notice him doing it and if they look at him and can tell that he goes to bed at four in the morning because he can't sleep because he's too busy with this stupid goddamn habit and would they be able to tell he likes guys because sometimes he thinks that's something pretty obvious about him-
Ugh. He's doing it again. Overthinking.
"Zitao, it's 4:00 in the afternoon, can you please stop making that face? Aren't you too tired to be thinking so much right now?" Luhan asks as he sits down in the chair next to Zitao. They're in the library, studying, except that Zitao hasn't even taken anything out his bag yet because he's too busy wondering how badly he could do on his psychology test and still pass because he doesn't even know if he can keep going to that class and-
"Don't you have wushu in, like, an hour?" Luhan interrupts his thoughts, the sound of his textbook hitting the table causing Zitao to start and sit up straight.
"Yes, I do," he says stiffly.
"Well then, shouldn't you be in a better mood?" Luhan continues, giving him a look. "I thought you liked wushu."
"I do," Zitao sighs, finally reaching for his bag to retrieve the homework he could have started an hour ago and wow, had he really spent that long doing nothing because now he has almost no time to do it-
"Zitao," Luhan says pointedly.
"Sorry," Zitao mutters.
"Remind me again why I'm friends with you," Luhan grumbles, shaking his head.
"Because if you weren't there to help me, I'd end up thinking myself to death?" Zitao offers, and Luhan rolls his eyes.
"How tragic."
"Shut up. It could happen."
"Zitao, you really do think too much."
"That's what my psych professor said when she handed back the quiz we took last week. Can you believe she took off points because my answer was too long?" Zitao says frustratedly.
"It depends. How long is too long?" Luhan asks skeptically.
"It's psychology!" Zitao says, exasperated. "I should get extra points for how deep I was!"
"Unless your answer was like 2 pages," Luhan says. Zitao stops talking.
After about only 15 minutes of working (wow, he really didn't get anything done did he), Zitao has to pack his stuff up and head out to catch the bus to go to practice.
"Don't worry," Luhan assures him, "You'll feel better once you kick some wushu butt."
"We don't call it kicking wushu butt," Zitao replies, affronted.
He has to hurry because the bus is supposed to be there in 5 minutes except that he's running late and what if the bus was early and he already missed it and then he'd have to wait half an hour for the next bus and by the time he got to practice, his shifu would-
But as he nears the bus stop, he sees other students are still waiting, so he sighs with relief and joins them. Despite that he spends a ridiculous amount of time overthinking and worrying, for the most part, his thoughts are never very realistic.
The bus arrives shortly, and Zitao boards, choosing a seat at the back of the bus because if he sits at the front, then everyone can see him and what if they can tell he bombed his psych quiz and what if they notice him checking out that slightly attractive male a few seats away-
"Wait a second, I know him," Zitao mutters before raising his voice a bit to call out, "Jongdae!"
Said slightly attractive male turns his head at the mention of his name, and he smiles when he sees Zitao, although Zitao can't tell if that's a genuine smile or an "oh god the gay freak with the thinking complex just spoke to me" kind of smile.
"Long time no see," Jongdae says as he moves to sit next to Zitao, so maybe it was a genuine smile because after all, the two of them are friends or at least that’s what Zitao thought but he’s not too sure. "How are you?"
"Failing psych," Zitao replies honestly, earning a laugh from Jongdae. "What about you?"
"I'm not bad," Jongdae says with an amused chuckle. "Not failing any classes, so I suppose that's good. Where are you headed?"
"Wushu. I have so much work to do, though," Zitao says with a sigh. "I wish I could skip. And you? You're working at a cafe, right?” Jongdae nods. “How’s that going?”
“Pretty good. It’s a nice place, you should come by sometime,” he offers. “I might be able to give you a free coffee.” Zitao does like coffee. And attractive male friends.
“Sure, if I have time I can check it out this week,” he agrees.
Their conversation ends after that and Jongdae takes out an mp3 player and some headphones. Zitao of course worries that it’s because Jongdae doesn’t want to talk to him anymore because somehow Jongdae realized that Zitao was decidedly homosexual and wow he’d probably be pretty grossed out if Zitao admitted that he found him cute-
Zitao’s train of thought completely derails when the bus pulls up to the next stop and a very tall, very attractive boy gets on. It takes practically all of Zitao’s willpower and wushu training not to ogle this boy because damn, he is seriously hot.
Dirty blond hair falls messily across his face, which Zitao might say is the face of a god, and he wears an expression that might be described as “bitch-face,” but Jesus christ it looks so goddamn attractive on him that Zitao doesn’t even care.
The boy stands at the front of the bus for a moment, looking for a seat, and for a split second, their eyes meet. Well, for a long split second, and during that time, Zitao's brain completely overloads and he literally can't think at all. But then the boy is moving to sit in the seat that Jongdae had occupied before Zitao had called out to him, and Zitao's mind starts working again and shit did that mean that if Jongdae had stayed there, that Greek god would have come to sit next to Zitao because wow, just looking at him was one thing, but sitting directly next to him might have fried not only Zitao's brain but also his dick- oh god, he really should not be thinking like this.
Zitao can't stop staring at that boy for the rest of the ride. He's also there on the trip back.
"Luhan, Luhan, he was a fucking GOD," Zitao bursts out when he see Luhan the next day. They’re working outside, as the weather proves itself quite nice that day, and Zitao’s voice is loud enough that some of the other students look over at him and does that mean they think Zitao is a freak because really, if he’s speaking honestly-
“So you saw this guy on the bus,” Luhan says, stopping Zitao before he gets ahead of himself.
“Yes. Yes, ohmygod, and he looked over me and I thought time stopped for a minute because I wasn’t thinking at all but wow-” Zitao starts, but Luhan interrupts him,
“Wait, you weren’t thinking at all? Wow, this guy did something good for you,” he says approvingly while Zitao frowns at him.
“But that’s not the point,” Zitao whines, “I’m saying this fucking gorgeous boy got on the bus and looked at me, don’t you care at all?”
“No, not really,” Luhan shrugs and Zitao glares at him. “Come on, what are the chances you’ll see him again?”
“Next to nothing, I presume,” Zitao sighs dramatically. There is the offhand chance the boy will ride again because what if he has somewhere to go at the same time that Zitao has wushu and what if they happen to lock eyes again because somehow that boy was also severely attracted to Zitao and then they get off at the same stop to make out-
“Goddammit, can you please make it less obvious what you’re imagining?” Luhan interjects, which is when Zitao notices the disgusted look on his face.
“What? I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you and your boyfriend do,” he says indifferently, which sparks a rather vivid shade of red across Luhan’s face.
“Hey,” he exclaims, but Zitao is shaking his head.
“Whatever. I’m just gonna keep pretending that look meant something and that I’m going to get on the bus tomorrow and he’s going to be there and we’re going to waltz off to the nearest hotel to have sex.”
“I’m going to punch you in the face,” Luhan says.
Zitao checks and double-checks his appearance using his iPod camera. No hair out of place, no unsightly wrinkles in his shirt, really, he wants to look his best if he’s going to see that attractive boy again. Wow, he really hopes he sees that boy again because he doesn’t usually put this much effort into how he looks and what if he doesn’t see him and what if all of this is completely pointless because mostly it was Zitao’s stupid habit that made him get so excited about it in the goddamn first place-
With a sigh, Zitao gives one last look towards his iPod before the bus arrives and he boards it.
He feels kind of gross actually. His throat is dry and he’s sweating quite a bit, which probably won’t matter in the long run because he’s going to wushu, but his stomach hurts too and fuck, he doesn’t normally get this hot and bothered by people but that damn Greek god boy really grabbed his dick- er, attention.
Can the other passengers see that he’s freaking out this much??
As the bus pulls up to the next stop, Zitao almost screams when he sees the familiar head of messy blond hair.
“His name’s Wufan,” Zitao proudly tells Luhan once they’ve settled down outside with their lunch.
“You talked to him?” Luhan asks, almost dropping his bubble tea.
“No, Jesus, where did you get that idea?” Zitao replies, insulted, giving him a look. “He had a friend with him this time and I happened to overhear his name.” Luhan stares at him.
“I am judging you so hard right now, OK,” the older boy sighs, shaking his head slowly.
“I couldn’t help it,” Zitao pouts, folding his arms. “He sat really close to me this time. It wasn’t like I could just not pay attention to what they were saying, but wow, can I just say that he has such a great voice?” He smiles dreamily. “I wonder if he raps or something.” Luhan rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful.
“Well, I’d rather hear about this Wufan guy than the psych test you know you’re going to fail,” he mutters.
“Oh god,” Zitao groans, “Psych.”
Zitao is exceedingly pleased to discover that on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday when he catches the 4:30 bus to go to wushu, Wufan always gets on at the stop after his and gets off one stop before. He also likes to think that he and Wufan lock gazes each time, and that Wufan finds him just as motherfucking attractive and that Wufan also imagines the same R-rated scenes that go through Zitao’s head- but that could just be Zitao’s dick talking.
Really, though, it's all Wufan's fault for being such a sexy, deep-voiced, bitch-faced god. Zitao kind of wants to punch him in the balls. Er.
But for a while, he gets used to seeing Wufan each day, the bus rides to and from practice soon becoming more relevant than the practice itself (oh god, Zitao thinks, am I losing my wushu magic). Sometimes the gorgeous boy is with a friend, which of course causes Zitao to worry about whether or not Wufan is single (and, well, gay for that matter, or at least bisexual because Zitao normally crushes on gay guys, but he also normally crushes on guys he knows, so he can't really be too sure).
He does fail his psych test, with a big red "TOO LONG" written next to each answer, but honestly he doesn't even care because Wufan is just way too goddamn distracting for his own good.
After seven weeks and counting (god, this is really messed up isn't it, Zitao thinks) of observing with no progress (because well, fuck, how is he supposed to talk to Wufan without seeming like a complete freaking stalker???), Zitao finally gets his chance. Although, the situation is a great deal awkward and probably the worst way possible for Zitao to announce his existence to the the boy he's been watching for more than a month.
It's Friday. Zitao's in a good mood because for once he actually got a decent grade on one of his psych assignments (mostly because he had to force himself not to write a five page essay), so he's all smiles and sunshine when he sees Wufan get on the bus because wow, it's a really nice day and he looks particularly perfect, maybe a little more so than usual, but Zitao kind of sort of smiles at him? And then, well, he sort of keeps staring at Wufan for the rest of the ride? Either way, he notices that when Wufan gets up to get off the bus, he drops something - his keys? - and that's not good because he's going to need those, so Zitao gets up without thinking (which is like a miracle because duh, this is Zitao) and grabs them and asks the bus driver to wait a minute while he steps off of the bus and calls, "Wufan!"
It isn't until Wufan turns around, a confused and bewildered expression on his beautiful, god-like face, that Zitao realizes: fuck, he just graduated from closeted freak to open stalker.
After a prolonged moment of Zitao imagining all the possible ways he could kill himself right now, he manages to mutter, "You, um, you dropped..." But the words won't come out and oh god, Wufan looks so goddamn cute when he's confused, but now he'll probably never want to see Zitao again, and what if he stops riding that bus because he-
Zitao forces himself to stop thinking, practically hurls Wufan's keys at him, and then bolts back onto the bus.
He purposefully waits to catch a later bus on the way back.
"Luhan, if I kill myself, will you promise to bury my body?" Zitao asks from where he's slouched over the library table that he and Luhan are working at. It's raining today, so the two are forced to work inside and goddammit all because this weather does absolutely nothing for Zitao's god-awful mood.
"No,” Luhan responds dryly, not looking up from his calculus textbook. Zitao makes a noise between a whimper and a groan. “You’re really annoying, you know that?"
"Ohmygod, Luhan, you don't understand!" Zitao wails, not caring when a few people from the table across from them shush him rather violently. "He probably thinks I'm some kind of psycho now and what if I ruined any chance I had at talking to him, I mean, Jesus christ, the only thing I was even able to find out about him was his name, but that's probably the only memory I'll ever have of him now because I didn't think for once!"
"Zitao, even if he did think you were a psycho, it's only the truth," Luhan says. "And now, not only do you think too much, you talk too much."
"Wow, you're such a great friend," Zitao grumbles sarcastically.
"I know," Luhan gives him a bright smile.
"Can't you have at least some sympathy? I just practically had my freaking heart broken!" he complains.
"Don't you mean your dick?" Luhan readily points out.
"I really, really hate you," Zitao mutters mutinously. Luhan just grins.
Zitao does not want to get on the bus. If he doesn't, wow, he'd be skipping the first half of practice, but he doesn't know if he can risk seeing Wufan again. Should he catch the next bus? Should he ride this bus and just act completely oblivious when he sees Wufan? Could he really do that, though, because this is Zitao, and if it's Wufan, trying to ignore him might be asking the impossible, but shit, Zitao is so nervous he's sure he's going to vomit everything he's ever eaten since birth-
"Are you going to get on? I'm going to be late to my next stop," the bus driver says, and then Zitao remembers that he's been standing with one foot on the bus for like 5 minutes now, and Jesus christ, that's embarrassing.
"Um, yeah, sorry," he mumbles as he gets on. He feels like crying.
It starts raining lightly once Zitao sits down, which sort of makes him glad he had caught the bus because ew, rain, but he'd rather try not to think at all right now because if he does he's going to pass out.
As the bus pulls up to its next stop, Zitao shrinks in his seat. Oh god, why did he decide this was a good idea oh god oh god oh god Wufan oh god.
He attempts to hide behind, well anything, but wow, that was stupid because Wufan can obviously still see him and Jesus fucking christ is he walking this way, please don't say he's approaching Zitao because oh god Zitao is going to puke on him.
"Um," Wufan says awkwardly, but wow his voice is so fucking perfect, "Thanks. For the other day."
It takes Zitao a long moment to figure out that Wufan is thanking him for giving him the keys and no, fucking no, why in the world would he be thanking Zitao for calling his name when technically they don't know each other- oh god he's sitting next to Zitao oh god oh god oh god.
"Yeah," Zitao mumbles. He really wants to crawl into a hole and die.
"Um, you," Wufan starts to say, but he stops and seems to think about what he's trying to say, and oh god can Zitao fit his body out of the bus window because- "What's your name?" -What?
"Z-Zitao, it's-it's Zitao," he manages to reply, but Jesus christ he was so close to replying with gibberish or something and then Wufan would have thought he was mentally retarded-
"Zitao," Wufan repeats, and goddamn hearing him say Zitao's name seriously turns him on-
"Ohmygod, I'm really sorry," Zitao blurts suddenly, taking Wufan by surprise, "I know it's so creepy that I knew your name, but I overheard your friend say it one time, and well, I kind of was watching you so I saw your keys fall and I wasn't thinking when I called after you-"
"It's OK."
"-and ohmygod, I completely understand if you never want to see me-" Zitao stops abruptly, mouth hanging open as he realizes what Wufan said. "You mean, you're not totally turned off by me knowing your name and-" shit did Zitao really just say 'turned off' because oh god that sounds kind of-
"Um, well, I guess it is kind of weird, but," Wufan smiles sheepishly, "I um, kind of, was watching you. Um. Too."
Jesus fucking christ, Zitao thinks, My dick cannot be contained.
There are a few things Zitao learns about Wufan that day.
One: Wufan is like three years older than him (which, ugh, is seriously hot if he thinks about, but he’s been making an effort not to think too much these days).
Two: Wufan is a bartender (seriously, could he have had a sexier job???) which is where he’s been going when Zitao sees him on the bus each day.
Three: Wufan really does have chronic bitch-face, whether he knows it or not (but really, it’s not too much of a problem because, um, hello, he’s a fucking god).
And four: Wufan seems to genuinely have an interest in Zitao (does that include Zitao’s dick or-), which is by far the most important thing.
“Can you please stop drooling all over the table?” Luhan says distastefully as he joins Zitao at their usual library table. It’s raining again, but wow, Zitao is in such a good mood that honestly, he doesn’t care about the weather or Luhan’s sarcasm.
“No, I’m actually not,” he clarifies, sitting up straight and grinning smugly, “But you’ll never believe what happened.” Luhan gives him a straight-faced look.
“What,” he says dully.
“No, no, you have to guess,” Zitao says eagerly.
“But you hate when I guess,” Luhan sighs.
“Good point,” Zitao nods. “Well then, I’ll just tell you. Wufan gave me his phone number,” he says, so proudly that Luhan just stares at him for a minute.
“So you talked to him,” Luhan says.
“No, God, Luhan, you really should stay away from guessing,” Zitao says, giving him a look.
“You’re the one who told me to guess,” Luhan rolls his eyes.
“I’ll have you know, my good fellow, that he talked to me,” Zitao informs the older boy with an air of importance.
“Well, you kind of gave him no choice, considering you kind of called out his name when you guys didn’t even know each other,” Luhan mutters, and Zitao’s smile promptly disappears.
“Wow, you really know how to ruin a mood. Jesus christ, Luhan, why don’t you get a job in the ‘mood-ruining’ business because I’m sure you’d make a fortune,” he says sarcastically, glaring as he leans against the table.
Luhan shrugs. “So things went well, then, I assume? I mean, you got his phone number. I’m sure your dick is ecstatic.”
“Ohmygod, Luhan, stop it!” Zitao whines. “I really don’t want to punch you in the face, but if I have to-”
“I almost preferred you when you were just obsessively worried about the next psych test,” Luhan says, shaking his head.
“What care I for psych when there is such a man??” Zitao exclaims dramatically.
“Oh god, did you just quote a Jane Austen book?” Luhan asks, pretending to gag.
“What?” Zitao shrugs, “We were watching Sense & Sensibility in my lit class.” Luhan stands up while he’s still talking. “Hey, where are you going?”
“To buy some earplugs.”
part 2