tenor

1:03pm

chanyeol does not, in fact, go over to kyungsoo's for dinner.

first of all, they didn't exchange phone numbers. there's no way to contact each other aside from randomly meeting up on campus (unlikely) and through their mutual friend, sehun (unreliable). not having any means of social networking doesn't help either–there's too much socialization required to keep up with everyone else for chanyeol to actually create an account–and jongin doesn't seem willing to stalk someone's profile to look for a person his roommate is heads over heels for.

and second because although their first encounter might have gone smoothly according to chanyeol's low standards, he's still too emotionally shaken to go at it again. kyungsoo is amazing and soft and as delightfully intimidating as he had imagined and therefore way out of his league. he isn't sure he can compete with any other studs in this university–hell, he doesn't even know if guys are included in the group of genders kyungsoo is attracted to, or if that group is even existent.

so considering both aspects and also how luck never seems to be on chanyeol's side, he has to admit it's quite unimaginable to ever meet up with kyungsoo again, really.

he does.

"chanyeol?"

at the call of his name he abruptly turns around on his heel, clutching at the bag of chips in his hold so tightly it might as well explode.

kyungsoo is there, in line to buy from the same vending machine chanyeol just cussed at for not giving him back his change, wearing a loose fitting white tee and sweatpants, thick rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. he looked hot yet cute, and it adds up to the list of paradoxes chanyeol has to deal with daily–not as bad as jongin's existencial crises, because this one is hard to top.

"yeah?" he says and his voice sounds a little brusque even for him, but at least it didn't crack. that would've been embarrassing. "uh, hi, kyungsoo."

(if he earned a penny for every time he attempts to be smooth but fails miserably, he would be able to afford more than just cup noodles on a daily basis, that's for sure.)

kyungsoo looks up at him with a smile on his lips. "hey! hey, how's it going?"

he focuses back on the task at hand, straightening a five dollar bill against his thigh in order to buy a snack. chanyeol should warn him about the burglar that is the vending machine, so he does. conversational topics.

"what are you buying?"

"huh?" he quirks an eyebrow, "a snickers bar, why?"

chanyeol pulls out a two dollar bill from his pocket and crouches, carefully inserting it into the machine and then pressing on the button with the candy's label. it takes a while for it to drop but when it does, he's quick to reach for it and hand it to kyungsoo, who looks really confused.

"you didn't have to–i mean, thanks, but you didn't–"

"i used a ten to get my chips and this demon didn't give me the change," chanyeol says, promptly and effectively cutting off the other. one of his weird ways of flirting, perhaps. "you don't need to pay me back, really. it was nothing."

kyungsoo stammers a little on his several thank yous, red at the face. it's adorable, awfully so, and chanyeol wants nothing more than to kiss him and see how flustered he would get. he can experiment that later, of course. the possibility of facing denial doesn't even sound that bad.

"i don't have anything to pay you back with," kyungsoo says then as he unwraps his snickers, then points at chanyeol with the bar and raises a brow. "would my company be enough?"