Blue {DoTae} | complete

Thirty: It takes one to know one

There's another tw for homophobia TT I'm sorry

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You should say yes. I think it'd be good for you." Doyoung's mother insists as she pours herself yet another mug of tea. It's barely eight o'clock in the morning and Doyoung has already counted three. He nods, a little unsure, and shoves another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, brow sinking into a gradual frown.

"I don't know." He huffs after a bit of thought.

Kun's offer of a job at the café has been constantly circling his mind. Doyoung finds himself torn through the middle, his head latched onto both sides of the argument and there's only so far it can stretch before snapping, which would no doubt lead to another breakdown. Which he doesn't want after doing so well. Doyoung also thinks working would do him some good. There's no harm in earning some money, and he could use it as an opportunity to improve his confidence.

But there are all the 'what ifs?' feeding off his insecurities and they hardly allow him a moment's break from their vicious bite.

The doorbell rings before he can reach a conclusion.

"Who's that?" His mother has to put her mug down before even being able to take a sip to go and answer it, head tilted in confusion. "I hope your father hasn't forgotten his keys again. I swear, if he has I'll- oh, hello Jungwoo!"

Doyoung gets up from the table at the sound of his best friend's name. He pokes his head into the hallway, then approaches when he takes in the panic striking the younger's face.

"Mrs Kim, is it okay if I speak to him in private for a second?" Jungwoo speaks, voice breathy so he clearly ran here. Doyoung looks between his mother and his friend, confusion bubbling over into anxiety.

"Sure. I'll be in the garden if you need me." His mother nods and closes the kitchen door behind her when she leaves.

Jungwoo waits for the click of the back door before speaking.

"Please don't panic, but there are pictures of you and Taeyong on twitter."

Doyoung panics.

His back hits the wall and his knees turn numb, and they would fold over on themselves if not for Jungwoo lunging forward to support him and guide him to sit down on the sofa. Doyoung can't focus on any of his surroundings. There's no space left in his brain for eyesight because all he can think of are all the malicious comments, the entire world knowing his identity, everyone attacking Taeyong again, people somehow surfacing the tweets on his private account. The list is endless. His anxiety skyrockets.

"It's not public, don't worry." Jungwoo continues, hand squeezing Doyoung's shoulder. His words are kind, as always, but foggy and sort of all melt together in the firepit of Doyoung's thoughts.

"What d-do you mean, don't worry?" Doyoung grips his hair until the younger pulls his hands away and holds them tight, their blue nails matching. Only Jungwoo's aren't chipping off.

"A few people from college posted the pictures on their stories. And they've spread to other accounts and on twitter, too." Jungwoo looks into Doyoung's eyes, but all Doyoung can do in return is pant through each strangling breath and scan his friend's expression to gauge what exactly is going on. "They didn't mention Taeyong at all. The pictures are from quite a distance so he's not recognisable, but your face is more obvious."

"Fuck." Doyoung wails, then chokes on a sob and crumples into a coughing fit. Jungwoo rubs his back and coaxes him through it until he can breathe a little better.