{exo} we're getting closer now
title: we're getting closer now
pairing: Kris/Baekhyun
word count: 3124w
rating: PG-13
summary: The world, as it seems, has weird ways of making things fall into place.
a/n: originally written for the krisbaek fest. fic originally posted here
#Yifan{
height: 1000px;
width: 800px;
background: url('images/swag.png');
background-color: white;
}
#Yifans-hair{
color: #ffff00;
}
Baekhyun sighs, saving the current file he’s working on and refreshing the web page display on his web browser. He’s only halfway done, but at least it could be considered progress. He was far too invested in playing Overwatch with his roommate, Chanyeol the previous night that he has forgotten to start on his final project which, of course, just had to be due in a week’s time.
Chanyeol-the fucking traitor-is supposed to be suffering with him right now, but Baekhyun had forgotten that aside from being a huge ass nerd, Park Chanyeol is also the huge ass king of betrayal. Which greatly explains why he’s already finished his web system project the week before, leaving Baekhyun to suffer in the computer lab alone.
"I can't believe you're naming an iframe’s ID as Yifan's hair," Jongdae cackles, laughing openly and not even having the decency to hide his mirth at, with the way he puts it, Baekhyun's 'hopelessness' (which Baekhyun would always deny. After all, it's Jongdae and not him who's had the reputation in their circle of friends to have done a shit ton of weird things in the name of love). “Electric yellow. I can’t believe this shit. You’re going to blind Junmyeon-seonsaengnim.”
Baekhyun huffs in annoyance. Right. He isn’t exactly alone. Of course it also just so happens that Jongdae decides to be a sane human being who’s actually on the verge of finishing his own project around this time and not finishing it years before the deadline like Chanyeol or cramming everything like Baekhyun.
There are also about ten other people in the room - six of which are from their class, alternating between going on various social media accounts and doing their projects. Baekhyun remembers the few others as fellow computer science majors, only from lower years. The remaining few, he assumes as their friends, mostly having encountered them from a few of his electives and the several times he passes by the other lecture halls. But he really doesn’t mind them, since it’s only Jongdae that he’s really close with. He’s always known for being a social person, but there’s no time for that now that he only has a few days left before the deadline.
Kim Jongdae, his best friend and most trusted confidant. Kim Jongdae, whose guts he hates like 45 percent of the time, mostly from of all of the teasing (the other 55 percent, he spends lovingly annoying the hell out of Jongdae because, of course, love works in mysterious ways). “And what the fuck is that background? Did you get that from his instagram account?” Jongdae tsks at him. “Is that from the same ‘ball is love, ball is life’ post you’ve cried over for weeks?”
“Leave me alone, I know what I’m doing.” Baekhyun huffs in a tired haze. He needs more caffeine if he wants to stay awake throughout bullshitting his project, especially now that Jongdae is starting to come at him again. “And I haven’t cried about that post, I was just making appreciative noises at the back of my throat. For the general appreciation of great aesthetics.”
“You sounded like you were being strangled and were actually, legitimately about to die. Or on the verge of death.” Jongdae adds the last part hastily, as if that would make things any better.
Baekhyun runs a hand through his face and goes back to typing out the code for adding more features to the user interface of his web system. “I wasn’t. Those two are clearly, very different things.” Jongdae leans closer, looking at what he’s been working on and laughing when he sees everything.
“I can’t believe you basically gave the IDs and class names-even the tag names, oh god-of your CSS file with Yifan-seonsaengnim’s name on them.” Jongdae leans back against his chair, looking smug like he’s accomplished something big by seeing this. “I can’t believe you’re like, going on an all-out high school level pining stage because of this guy.”
Baekhyun vehemently shakes his head, dismissing any idea that might have been going through Jongdae’s head. “I’m not in a high school level pining stage, I’m just pining, thank you.”
“And now you admit,” Jongdae smiles, and if possible, looks even more smug now that he’s proven his point. “But seriously you should stop with the pining, it doesn’t suit you.” Jongdae gives Baekhyun a pat on the arm, a meaningful smile on his face. “It hurts my eyes. Like that fucking electric yellow i-frame that could probably fry anyone’s eyes out.” He just wants peace and quiet while working on the project that he’s been putting off, but Jongdae seems to be keen in giving him completely the opposite of the things he wants.
“I would if I could, but that dipshit is too oblivious.” Baekhyun sighs, staring hopelessly at the variable names of his web system’s index file and ignoring the last part of Jongdae’s remark. Their professor would probably deduct some points because he didn’t follow the coding standard of naming each variable according to their purpose, but he doesn’t mind. Naming the variables of his code to anything related to Yifan is the only thing that’s keeping him sane now (however weird and creepy that may sound like). “God, why did I even like him?” He groans, both internally and externally. God, he is so screwed.
“Ah, dipshit. What a romantic love call.” Jongdae snickers. "I wonder when the time for this phase to end will come." He muses, loudly enough so that Baekhyun could hear. Baekhyun reaches out to flick a finger against Jongdae’s cheek, but it doesn’t hurt at all, the force dampened down by Baekhyun’s sheer loss of hope for both his project and his little crush on the hot TA from the Physics department.
“It’s not a phase, you dick.” Baekhyun sulks. “I actually do like him.”
“Just because I have one doesn’t mean I am one. Also I think that’s more applicable to you.” Jongdae chuckles, and Baekhyun considers maybe increasing the 45 percent of hate level to around 70 percent now. If only that wouldn’t be considered as carcinogenic.
“I’m going to fling something at you.” He threatens. Jongdae’s laughter gets louder this time, but he considers the threat at least, standing up to go back to his cubicle and work on his own project.
"Who does he think he is,” Baekhyun huffs, turning back to his own work. He tweaks a bit of the positioning of some images, Jongdae’s words still bugging his mind. “I'm a grown ass man, I think I can handle feelings well enough." Baekhyun waves his hand in a dismissive gesture to no one in particular. Jongdae doesn’t come running back at him to protest at this, starting to busy with his own work. Baekhyun decides to plug in his earphones instead and drown himself in his “working playlist” (which he also alternatively calls, “The Golden Pop Songs of Our Generation”) while immersing himself in his project.
If anyone asks, it’s not Yifan’s fault.
“Well, not really?” he says, voice lilting in uncertainty at the disbelieving look on Junmyeon’s face. “Junmyeon, you know me. I trip on wires at least once a day. If I managed to accidentally spill some coffee on my laptop, it’s not totally my fault, but of the universe ultimately conspiring against me so that it could get rid of me.”
“No one’s trying to get rid of you, hyung.” Junmyeon sighs, rubbing at his temple. In retrospect, Junmyeon had seen it coming, just that he didn’t want it to become a reality.
But the truth is, as it seems, reality is but a stone’s throw away from his predictions.
“I really need to send in that email though. So if you would be so kind,” Yifan tries to force himself into smiling politely but he ends up grimacing. “I need to use one of the computer lab’s computers. I’m kind of in a rush against time and space so I could meet the deadline of submission for my thesis draft.”
“And you need to finish all of this before the universe gets to conspire against you again and completely get rid of you this time.” Junmyeon sighs. “Very well.” He gestures to the shortcut door from the faculty room that leads to the computer lab. “I don’t think the other professors would mind since there are still some spare computers. But you could’ve just used one of the computers from the library, though. You haven’t forgotten that we all have free access to those, right?”
“But the library’s outside of this building,” Yifan shakes his head, his voice lilting in that way that tells Junmyeon that what he’s suggesting is ridiculous. “Too far.” He thanks Junmyeon and reaches the door in a few strides, his hands getting clammy from the tension.
“That’s like, 100 meters from here,” Junmyeon squints and shakes his head. But he just shrugs it off anyway. “Whatever floats your boat though.”
A few students look up from their screens when Yifan opens the door, the metal frame creaking. They greet him with courteous slight bows before going back to what they’ve been doing. Yifan notices that not all of them are doing projects, some huddled around a computer while watching the final episode of Descendants of the Sun, but he brushes that aside. They’re not his students, so he should probably just let them be. Besides, he still has some work to do.
There’s a student slumped over his cubicle, looking quite absorbed in his work. Curious, Yifan pretends to pass by him, only to see him not doing any actual work and just slumping in front of his laptop.
The side of his face is pillowed over his crossed arms lying on top of the table. The computer lab’s fluorescent lights are bright enough for Yifan to see that it’s Baekhyun, but the iridescent glow that the laptop casts on his face makes him look unreal-kind of like someone from a dream.
There are probably several other computer units available, but Yifan slides in to the cubicle next to Baekhyun’s, booting the computer on with a long press of the CPU’s power button. He turns the monitor on and lightly hums a song to himself as he waits for the system to load. He glances at Baekhyun’s direction, and realizes that Baekhyun must have fallen into a deep sleep, his body unmoving and his eyes completely closed. There are earphones plugged in his ears, his laptop screen showing a text editor that Yifan’s somehow familiar with. Yifan guesses that he had fallen asleep while working and finds himself smiling. Baekhyun looks cute asleep. But if Yifan allows himself to be more honest, he thinks Baekhyun’s cute all the time, really (even during that one time he almost broke the voltmeter).
Yifan snaps back into attention when he notices from his peripheral vision that the computer’s desktop screen is finally showing, and he schools his expression back to his usual poker-faced one. If someone saw the completely open expression on his face early earlier, they would probably have told other people that he’s fond of Byun Baekhyun. In a way, they’re right-Baekhyun had been one of Yifan’s students the previous semester for Mechanical Physics, and although he had felt a spark of hope when he sensed Baekhyun was trying to drop hints that he likes him, he had to maintain their relationship at a professional level, despite Baekhyun’s cordial approaches extending beyond class hours.
It’s not like Yifan doesn’t like Baekhyun-the Physics faculty has told him that he’s quite obvious with it, even, his behaviour completely altering from the norm whenever Baekhyun’s around. It’s just that he thinks that it would be quite difficult to have a relationship with a student, knowing that the way he would grade Baekhyun might end up being biased. Besides, it’s not like they’re not busy-Baekhyun is in his last year in the university while Yifan still has his graduate studies to mind aside from his teaching job. They simply just don’t have much time.
But despite all that, there’s still this nagging thought at the back of Yifan’s mind telling him to just give it a try. Baekhyun had only been your student for one semester, it says, and Baekhyun doesn’t have any other Physics subjects left to take anymore anyway.
But the more logical part of him tells him no, because it would be a great distraction to his goals. Besides, it’s not like Yifan doesn’t know anything about the students-he knows that Baekhyun has a pool of other people lining up in front of him, just waiting for him to pick a prospective lover from amongst them. That doesn’t mean he thinks he doesn’t stand a chance-it’s just that he thinks that Baekhyun probably deserves someone better; someone who could give him the time that he completely deserves.
Yifan’s only sending an email, but he feels his mouth run dry, as if the entire activity was one of the greatest ordeals he has ever encountered. He tries not to attribute it to the person sleeping in the cubicle next to his, looking completely cute with his button nose all scrunched up and his lips quirking to the side as he mumbles something in his sleep.
A few more seconds of typing and clicking and Yifan is finally able to send in the email a few hours before the deadline. He sits back on his chair, looking completely satisfied with his work. He doesn’t think it’s his best work, but it’s passable. Probably.
Yifan glances to his side, but Baekhyun remains unmoving, still caught up in his peaceful slumber.
Yifan looks around and takes note of the fact that there’s no one watching him at all, so he carefully stands up from his seat (that is, if the word careful could include tripping over his own two feet and almost landing face-first into the floor) and walks behind Baekhyun’s chair to look at what he’s been doing.
The file opened on Baekhyun’s laptop is labelled “project_final_final_super_duper_final.php” and Yifan finds himself chuckling. He’s taken Baekhyun to be the type to name his file as random keyboard smashes, but somehow, Baekhyun actually tries to be organized-although his work probably isn’t that compartmentalized. The text editor interface on Baekhyun’s laptop is a glaring mixture of blue, green and pink in a sea of dark gray, and Yifan runs his eyes through the words written here, even though he’s mostly sure he probably won’t get it, curious as to what Baekhyun’s been busying himself with.
Yifan coughs out loud when he accidentally chokes upon reading the actual contents of the file. He sees his name just about everywhere in the text editor, numerical equivalents next to them and some other attributes attached to his name. He covers his mouth, careful not to wake Baekhyun up, but it’s already too late.
Baekhyun suddenly lifts his head up and Yifan jerks back and lands on his ass, surprised at Baekhyun’s sudden movement.
“What,” Baekhyun half-shouts, wiping at the edge of his mouth. He sleepily blinks up at his laptop’s screen and scratches his nose, still oblivious to what happened. Yifan could only stare at him in surprise, unmoving from his spot on the floor.
A few of the students have seemed to notice the commotion and they turn their heads to look at Baekhyun and Yifan, interested in whatever’s about to unfold. Suddenly, Yifan regrets all of his life decisions.
Baekhyun finally seems to notice that Yifan is sitting on the floor beside him, and he turns his head to look at the TA, still blinking in disbelief. “Yifan-seonsangnim, hi.” He says, smiling lightly. He still looks sleepy.
Yifan clears his throat and stands up with as much dignity as he could muster (or whatever dignity he has left) and dusts the dirt off of his pants. “Hello, Baekhyun-ssi. Sorry if I interrupted your work.” Yifan says, trying to sound calm when in his mind, a hundred thoughts are already going through that he could barely catch up.
He’s only around the beginner level of programming, a lot of terminologies and programming syntax unfamiliar to him, yet he understands that Baekhyun has named all of those variables from him. It’s quite cute, really, and he hopes that despite all the stress that final projects are bringing, Baekhyun gets some strength from seeing his name written there.
“Oh, you didn’t really-“Baekhyun is halfway through a dismissive wave of his hand when the implications of Yifan’s words dawn on him, and the sleepiness is suddenly out of his system. He looks at his laptop, his screen still displaying the text editor that has Yifan’s name on it, and looks back at Yifan, a look of horror descending upon his face. “I can explain.” He starts laughing awkwardly, and Yifan could see the millions of excuses he’s starting to make up in his mind.
Yifan laughs, the kind of laugh that his colleagues would say that they rarely get to see. “Just so you know, my height is more than 1000 pixels.”
Baekhyun’s face turns beet red in embarrassment and he covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m-I really-“he stutters, tripping up on his words.
Despite the inner turmoil that Yifan is feeling, he’s able to hide it, pretending to show a cool and calm exterior to Baekhyun. He grabs his seat and pushes it closer to Baekhyun before sitting down, lowering his voice so that the onlookers wouldn’t hear what they’re talking about. “Is this your way of confessing to me?”
“I guess it is.” Baekhyun peeks through the spaces between his fingers, lowering his gaze when he realizes that Yifan is looking at him directly.
“Then, how about I show you my way of confessing?” Yifan says, sounding a little too overconfident.
For a moment, Baekhyun doesn't say anything and Yifan stiffens in his seat, feeling awkward as the silence hangs between them. “That is, if you want. I wouldn’t want to force you into anything.” Yifan laughs awkwardly, not knowing how to retract his offer without sounding a little too obvious just in case it backfires on him.
But then Baekhyun looks over at him and smiles, dazzling and brilliant and just kind of like everything Yifan has ever hoped for. "It's a date."
Yifan visibly relaxes in his seat, as if all the weight of the world has been lifted off of his shoulders.
Maybe the world wasn't conspiring against him, after all.
pairing: Kris/Baekhyun
word count: 3124w
rating: PG-13
summary: The world, as it seems, has weird ways of making things fall into place.
a/n: originally written for the krisbaek fest. fic originally posted here
#Yifan{
height: 1000px;
width: 800px;
background: url('images/swag.png');
background-color: white;
}
#Yifans-hair{
color: #ffff00;
}
Baekhyun sighs, saving the current file he’s working on and refreshing the web page display on his web browser. He’s only halfway done, but at least it could be considered progress. He was far too invested in playing Overwatch with his roommate, Chanyeol the previous night that he has forgotten to start on his final project which, of course, just had to be due in a week’s time.
Chanyeol-the fucking traitor-is supposed to be suffering with him right now, but Baekhyun had forgotten that aside from being a huge ass nerd, Park Chanyeol is also the huge ass king of betrayal. Which greatly explains why he’s already finished his web system project the week before, leaving Baekhyun to suffer in the computer lab alone.
"I can't believe you're naming an iframe’s ID as Yifan's hair," Jongdae cackles, laughing openly and not even having the decency to hide his mirth at, with the way he puts it, Baekhyun's 'hopelessness' (which Baekhyun would always deny. After all, it's Jongdae and not him who's had the reputation in their circle of friends to have done a shit ton of weird things in the name of love). “Electric yellow. I can’t believe this shit. You’re going to blind Junmyeon-seonsaengnim.”
Baekhyun huffs in annoyance. Right. He isn’t exactly alone. Of course it also just so happens that Jongdae decides to be a sane human being who’s actually on the verge of finishing his own project around this time and not finishing it years before the deadline like Chanyeol or cramming everything like Baekhyun.
There are also about ten other people in the room - six of which are from their class, alternating between going on various social media accounts and doing their projects. Baekhyun remembers the few others as fellow computer science majors, only from lower years. The remaining few, he assumes as their friends, mostly having encountered them from a few of his electives and the several times he passes by the other lecture halls. But he really doesn’t mind them, since it’s only Jongdae that he’s really close with. He’s always known for being a social person, but there’s no time for that now that he only has a few days left before the deadline.
Kim Jongdae, his best friend and most trusted confidant. Kim Jongdae, whose guts he hates like 45 percent of the time, mostly from of all of the teasing (the other 55 percent, he spends lovingly annoying the hell out of Jongdae because, of course, love works in mysterious ways). “And what the fuck is that background? Did you get that from his instagram account?” Jongdae tsks at him. “Is that from the same ‘ball is love, ball is life’ post you’ve cried over for weeks?”
“Leave me alone, I know what I’m doing.” Baekhyun huffs in a tired haze. He needs more caffeine if he wants to stay awake throughout bullshitting his project, especially now that Jongdae is starting to come at him again. “And I haven’t cried about that post, I was just making appreciative noises at the back of my throat. For the general appreciation of great aesthetics.”
“You sounded like you were being strangled and were actually, legitimately about to die. Or on the verge of death.” Jongdae adds the last part hastily, as if that would make things any better.
Baekhyun runs a hand through his face and goes back to typing out the code for adding more features to the user interface of his web system. “I wasn’t. Those two are clearly, very different things.” Jongdae leans closer, looking at what he’s been working on and laughing when he sees everything.
“I can’t believe you basically gave the IDs and class names-even the tag names, oh god-of your CSS file with Yifan-seonsaengnim’s name on them.” Jongdae leans back against his chair, looking smug like he’s accomplished something big by seeing this. “I can’t believe you’re like, going on an all-out high school level pining stage because of this guy.”
Baekhyun vehemently shakes his head, dismissing any idea that might have been going through Jongdae’s head. “I’m not in a high school level pining stage, I’m just pining, thank you.”
“And now you admit,” Jongdae smiles, and if possible, looks even more smug now that he’s proven his point. “But seriously you should stop with the pining, it doesn’t suit you.” Jongdae gives Baekhyun a pat on the arm, a meaningful smile on his face. “It hurts my eyes. Like that fucking electric yellow i-frame that could probably fry anyone’s eyes out.” He just wants peace and quiet while working on the project that he’s been putting off, but Jongdae seems to be keen in giving him completely the opposite of the things he wants.
“I would if I could, but that dipshit is too oblivious.” Baekhyun sighs, staring hopelessly at the variable names of his web system’s index file and ignoring the last part of Jongdae’s remark. Their professor would probably deduct some points because he didn’t follow the coding standard of naming each variable according to their purpose, but he doesn’t mind. Naming the variables of his code to anything related to Yifan is the only thing that’s keeping him sane now (however weird and creepy that may sound like). “God, why did I even like him?” He groans, both internally and externally. God, he is so screwed.
“Ah, dipshit. What a romantic love call.” Jongdae snickers. "I wonder when the time for this phase to end will come." He muses, loudly enough so that Baekhyun could hear. Baekhyun reaches out to flick a finger against Jongdae’s cheek, but it doesn’t hurt at all, the force dampened down by Baekhyun’s sheer loss of hope for both his project and his little crush on the hot TA from the Physics department.
“It’s not a phase, you dick.” Baekhyun sulks. “I actually do like him.”
“Just because I have one doesn’t mean I am one. Also I think that’s more applicable to you.” Jongdae chuckles, and Baekhyun considers maybe increasing the 45 percent of hate level to around 70 percent now. If only that wouldn’t be considered as carcinogenic.
“I’m going to fling something at you.” He threatens. Jongdae’s laughter gets louder this time, but he considers the threat at least, standing up to go back to his cubicle and work on his own project.
"Who does he think he is,” Baekhyun huffs, turning back to his own work. He tweaks a bit of the positioning of some images, Jongdae’s words still bugging his mind. “I'm a grown ass man, I think I can handle feelings well enough." Baekhyun waves his hand in a dismissive gesture to no one in particular. Jongdae doesn’t come running back at him to protest at this, starting to busy with his own work. Baekhyun decides to plug in his earphones instead and drown himself in his “working playlist” (which he also alternatively calls, “The Golden Pop Songs of Our Generation”) while immersing himself in his project.
If anyone asks, it’s not Yifan’s fault.
“Well, not really?” he says, voice lilting in uncertainty at the disbelieving look on Junmyeon’s face. “Junmyeon, you know me. I trip on wires at least once a day. If I managed to accidentally spill some coffee on my laptop, it’s not totally my fault, but of the universe ultimately conspiring against me so that it could get rid of me.”
“No one’s trying to get rid of you, hyung.” Junmyeon sighs, rubbing at his temple. In retrospect, Junmyeon had seen it coming, just that he didn’t want it to become a reality.
But the truth is, as it seems, reality is but a stone’s throw away from his predictions.
“I really need to send in that email though. So if you would be so kind,” Yifan tries to force himself into smiling politely but he ends up grimacing. “I need to use one of the computer lab’s computers. I’m kind of in a rush against time and space so I could meet the deadline of submission for my thesis draft.”
“And you need to finish all of this before the universe gets to conspire against you again and completely get rid of you this time.” Junmyeon sighs. “Very well.” He gestures to the shortcut door from the faculty room that leads to the computer lab. “I don’t think the other professors would mind since there are still some spare computers. But you could’ve just used one of the computers from the library, though. You haven’t forgotten that we all have free access to those, right?”
“But the library’s outside of this building,” Yifan shakes his head, his voice lilting in that way that tells Junmyeon that what he’s suggesting is ridiculous. “Too far.” He thanks Junmyeon and reaches the door in a few strides, his hands getting clammy from the tension.
“That’s like, 100 meters from here,” Junmyeon squints and shakes his head. But he just shrugs it off anyway. “Whatever floats your boat though.”
A few students look up from their screens when Yifan opens the door, the metal frame creaking. They greet him with courteous slight bows before going back to what they’ve been doing. Yifan notices that not all of them are doing projects, some huddled around a computer while watching the final episode of Descendants of the Sun, but he brushes that aside. They’re not his students, so he should probably just let them be. Besides, he still has some work to do.
There’s a student slumped over his cubicle, looking quite absorbed in his work. Curious, Yifan pretends to pass by him, only to see him not doing any actual work and just slumping in front of his laptop.
The side of his face is pillowed over his crossed arms lying on top of the table. The computer lab’s fluorescent lights are bright enough for Yifan to see that it’s Baekhyun, but the iridescent glow that the laptop casts on his face makes him look unreal-kind of like someone from a dream.
There are probably several other computer units available, but Yifan slides in to the cubicle next to Baekhyun’s, booting the computer on with a long press of the CPU’s power button. He turns the monitor on and lightly hums a song to himself as he waits for the system to load. He glances at Baekhyun’s direction, and realizes that Baekhyun must have fallen into a deep sleep, his body unmoving and his eyes completely closed. There are earphones plugged in his ears, his laptop screen showing a text editor that Yifan’s somehow familiar with. Yifan guesses that he had fallen asleep while working and finds himself smiling. Baekhyun looks cute asleep. But if Yifan allows himself to be more honest, he thinks Baekhyun’s cute all the time, really (even during that one time he almost broke the voltmeter).
Yifan snaps back into attention when he notices from his peripheral vision that the computer’s desktop screen is finally showing, and he schools his expression back to his usual poker-faced one. If someone saw the completely open expression on his face early earlier, they would probably have told other people that he’s fond of Byun Baekhyun. In a way, they’re right-Baekhyun had been one of Yifan’s students the previous semester for Mechanical Physics, and although he had felt a spark of hope when he sensed Baekhyun was trying to drop hints that he likes him, he had to maintain their relationship at a professional level, despite Baekhyun’s cordial approaches extending beyond class hours.
It’s not like Yifan doesn’t like Baekhyun-the Physics faculty has told him that he’s quite obvious with it, even, his behaviour completely altering from the norm whenever Baekhyun’s around. It’s just that he thinks that it would be quite difficult to have a relationship with a student, knowing that the way he would grade Baekhyun might end up being biased. Besides, it’s not like they’re not busy-Baekhyun is in his last year in the university while Yifan still has his graduate studies to mind aside from his teaching job. They simply just don’t have much time.
But despite all that, there’s still this nagging thought at the back of Yifan’s mind telling him to just give it a try. Baekhyun had only been your student for one semester, it says, and Baekhyun doesn’t have any other Physics subjects left to take anymore anyway.
But the more logical part of him tells him no, because it would be a great distraction to his goals. Besides, it’s not like Yifan doesn’t know anything about the students-he knows that Baekhyun has a pool of other people lining up in front of him, just waiting for him to pick a prospective lover from amongst them. That doesn’t mean he thinks he doesn’t stand a chance-it’s just that he thinks that Baekhyun probably deserves someone better; someone who could give him the time that he completely deserves.
Yifan’s only sending an email, but he feels his mouth run dry, as if the entire activity was one of the greatest ordeals he has ever encountered. He tries not to attribute it to the person sleeping in the cubicle next to his, looking completely cute with his button nose all scrunched up and his lips quirking to the side as he mumbles something in his sleep.
A few more seconds of typing and clicking and Yifan is finally able to send in the email a few hours before the deadline. He sits back on his chair, looking completely satisfied with his work. He doesn’t think it’s his best work, but it’s passable. Probably.
Yifan glances to his side, but Baekhyun remains unmoving, still caught up in his peaceful slumber.
Yifan looks around and takes note of the fact that there’s no one watching him at all, so he carefully stands up from his seat (that is, if the word careful could include tripping over his own two feet and almost landing face-first into the floor) and walks behind Baekhyun’s chair to look at what he’s been doing.
The file opened on Baekhyun’s laptop is labelled “project_final_final_super_duper_final.php” and Yifan finds himself chuckling. He’s taken Baekhyun to be the type to name his file as random keyboard smashes, but somehow, Baekhyun actually tries to be organized-although his work probably isn’t that compartmentalized. The text editor interface on Baekhyun’s laptop is a glaring mixture of blue, green and pink in a sea of dark gray, and Yifan runs his eyes through the words written here, even though he’s mostly sure he probably won’t get it, curious as to what Baekhyun’s been busying himself with.
Yifan coughs out loud when he accidentally chokes upon reading the actual contents of the file. He sees his name just about everywhere in the text editor, numerical equivalents next to them and some other attributes attached to his name. He covers his mouth, careful not to wake Baekhyun up, but it’s already too late.
Baekhyun suddenly lifts his head up and Yifan jerks back and lands on his ass, surprised at Baekhyun’s sudden movement.
“What,” Baekhyun half-shouts, wiping at the edge of his mouth. He sleepily blinks up at his laptop’s screen and scratches his nose, still oblivious to what happened. Yifan could only stare at him in surprise, unmoving from his spot on the floor.
A few of the students have seemed to notice the commotion and they turn their heads to look at Baekhyun and Yifan, interested in whatever’s about to unfold. Suddenly, Yifan regrets all of his life decisions.
Baekhyun finally seems to notice that Yifan is sitting on the floor beside him, and he turns his head to look at the TA, still blinking in disbelief. “Yifan-seonsangnim, hi.” He says, smiling lightly. He still looks sleepy.
Yifan clears his throat and stands up with as much dignity as he could muster (or whatever dignity he has left) and dusts the dirt off of his pants. “Hello, Baekhyun-ssi. Sorry if I interrupted your work.” Yifan says, trying to sound calm when in his mind, a hundred thoughts are already going through that he could barely catch up.
He’s only around the beginner level of programming, a lot of terminologies and programming syntax unfamiliar to him, yet he understands that Baekhyun has named all of those variables from him. It’s quite cute, really, and he hopes that despite all the stress that final projects are bringing, Baekhyun gets some strength from seeing his name written there.
“Oh, you didn’t really-“Baekhyun is halfway through a dismissive wave of his hand when the implications of Yifan’s words dawn on him, and the sleepiness is suddenly out of his system. He looks at his laptop, his screen still displaying the text editor that has Yifan’s name on it, and looks back at Yifan, a look of horror descending upon his face. “I can explain.” He starts laughing awkwardly, and Yifan could see the millions of excuses he’s starting to make up in his mind.
Yifan laughs, the kind of laugh that his colleagues would say that they rarely get to see. “Just so you know, my height is more than 1000 pixels.”
Baekhyun’s face turns beet red in embarrassment and he covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m-I really-“he stutters, tripping up on his words.
Despite the inner turmoil that Yifan is feeling, he’s able to hide it, pretending to show a cool and calm exterior to Baekhyun. He grabs his seat and pushes it closer to Baekhyun before sitting down, lowering his voice so that the onlookers wouldn’t hear what they’re talking about. “Is this your way of confessing to me?”
“I guess it is.” Baekhyun peeks through the spaces between his fingers, lowering his gaze when he realizes that Yifan is looking at him directly.
“Then, how about I show you my way of confessing?” Yifan says, sounding a little too overconfident.
For a moment, Baekhyun doesn't say anything and Yifan stiffens in his seat, feeling awkward as the silence hangs between them. “That is, if you want. I wouldn’t want to force you into anything.” Yifan laughs awkwardly, not knowing how to retract his offer without sounding a little too obvious just in case it backfires on him.
But then Baekhyun looks over at him and smiles, dazzling and brilliant and just kind of like everything Yifan has ever hoped for. "It's a date."
Yifan visibly relaxes in his seat, as if all the weight of the world has been lifted off of his shoulders.
Maybe the world wasn't conspiring against him, after all.