Frat Boys
Title: Frat Boys
Pairing: Banghim
Rating: G
Genre: Romance, fluff, school life
Summary: The morning after the night before during rush week.
Author's Notes: Sorry I haven't written anything in ... ages. Unbeta'd. I'm british so I don't have much if any knowledge of the greek system - everything I know I have learnt from 'Going Greek/Greek'
It’s a little after 8am when Himchan wakes up, batting his eyes against the bright sun invading the room. Strange, he usually closes his curtains. He tries to ignore the golden light behind his eyelids and presses his face into his pillow which feels oddly worn and smells of … Himchan doesn’t want to know what that smell is.
It’s all a little too weird so with a reluctant sigh he rolls himself over and opens his eyes. There’s clothes littered across the blue carpet and the pale blue walls look very unfamiliar. It takes him a moment to register that the bed sheets - and the plethora of stains on them, aren’t his and even longer to realise that this isn’t his room.
That’s when the headache hits him, sharp in the front of his head and the memories of the night before come filtering through; Rush week, Fraternities, After-party, beer pong, cute guy, more beer, gummy smile, stairs, chocolate abs -
A loud snore comes from the lean body beside him.
Oh. Shit.
Himchan rubs the bridge of his nose before carefully lifting the sheets back. From there it’s a quick search for his clothes. His jeans are at the foot of the bed, one sock over the lampshade, the other hung from the corner of a picture frame. He finds his shirt hooked on the door handle but his boxers - the old grey ones with the frayed hem which he now regrets wearing are nowhere to be seen. The body in the bed groans and Himchan decides he can do without them.
It’s not until he’s in the hallway that he takes a proper look at the man in the bed, all he can see is a mess of black hair and a tattoo that he can’t quite read across his shoulder. He was probably good looking, though Himchan can only really remember that gummy smile - he hopes it was his. Above the bed hangs the Omega Chi Delta sign and Himchan realises he just woke up in the top ranked fraternity house on campus. The Omega Chi Deltas - the snobbiest, rudest guys on campus full of politician’s sons and company heirs.
He closes the door as quietly as possible and makes his way through the house. A few early risers quirk their brows at him and a few look as though they’re about to ask if he’s lost but Himchan keeps his head down, eyes firm on the door and walks.
---
Himchan gets back to his dorm fifteen minutes later and realises he has exactly twenty-five minutes to get ready. A quick shower, painkillers and a change of clothes is all he can afford and he goes back to his apartment twice after leaving, forgetting his wallet and his textbooks. Breakfast is a coffee to go that burns his lip and tongue. His stomach will have to wait a while.
---
He barely makes it to class on time and the only seat left is in the front row. It’s the first musical history class of the semester given by one of the most influential professors in the country and frankly Himchan is quite looking forwards to the traditional instrument core. Filled with a renewed sense of enthusiasm he stumbles his way down the stairs garnering a few snickers from students in the aisle seats before taking the last available place at the front. The professor glances at his watch as Himchan settles and pulls out his stationary. His bag upends from his lap, spilling its contents around him and he lets out a groan that sends another round of chuckles about him.
He crams everything back into his bag, tucking it under his seat and it’s then that he realises he put all his pens away. He’s about to reach for his bag again, the professor introducing himself at the front when the guy next to him with the new and branded sneakers taps his hand with one of his own pens. ‘Looking for this?’
Himchan looks up from the pen to meet creased eyes and a familiar gummy smile. It’s just as handsome as he remembered. ‘T-Thanks. Himchan’ He mumbles, barely containing the blush that heats his skin. The other laughs, a low deep sound, thick like honey. ‘No, actually I’m Yongguk’ He pauses for a moment and jerks his chin. Himchan’s stomach grumbles. ‘Last night was fun but you disappeared pretty quickly. Can I take you out for breakfast?’
Himchan nods, feeling his blush tenfold. He opens his mouth to reply, his brain already stuttering over a reply when the professor clears his throat. ‘This is a lecture hall, not speed dating so perhaps you wouldn’t mind waiting until class is over before continuing, hmm?’
The two apologise, cheeks pink and smiles wide as class begins.
Pairing: Banghim
Rating: G
Genre: Romance, fluff, school life
Summary: The morning after the night before during rush week.
Author's Notes: Sorry I haven't written anything in ... ages. Unbeta'd. I'm british so I don't have much if any knowledge of the greek system - everything I know I have learnt from 'Going Greek/Greek'
It’s a little after 8am when Himchan wakes up, batting his eyes against the bright sun invading the room. Strange, he usually closes his curtains. He tries to ignore the golden light behind his eyelids and presses his face into his pillow which feels oddly worn and smells of … Himchan doesn’t want to know what that smell is.
It’s all a little too weird so with a reluctant sigh he rolls himself over and opens his eyes. There’s clothes littered across the blue carpet and the pale blue walls look very unfamiliar. It takes him a moment to register that the bed sheets - and the plethora of stains on them, aren’t his and even longer to realise that this isn’t his room.
That’s when the headache hits him, sharp in the front of his head and the memories of the night before come filtering through; Rush week, Fraternities, After-party, beer pong, cute guy, more beer, gummy smile, stairs, chocolate abs -
A loud snore comes from the lean body beside him.
Oh. Shit.
Himchan rubs the bridge of his nose before carefully lifting the sheets back. From there it’s a quick search for his clothes. His jeans are at the foot of the bed, one sock over the lampshade, the other hung from the corner of a picture frame. He finds his shirt hooked on the door handle but his boxers - the old grey ones with the frayed hem which he now regrets wearing are nowhere to be seen. The body in the bed groans and Himchan decides he can do without them.
It’s not until he’s in the hallway that he takes a proper look at the man in the bed, all he can see is a mess of black hair and a tattoo that he can’t quite read across his shoulder. He was probably good looking, though Himchan can only really remember that gummy smile - he hopes it was his. Above the bed hangs the Omega Chi Delta sign and Himchan realises he just woke up in the top ranked fraternity house on campus. The Omega Chi Deltas - the snobbiest, rudest guys on campus full of politician’s sons and company heirs.
He closes the door as quietly as possible and makes his way through the house. A few early risers quirk their brows at him and a few look as though they’re about to ask if he’s lost but Himchan keeps his head down, eyes firm on the door and walks.
---
Himchan gets back to his dorm fifteen minutes later and realises he has exactly twenty-five minutes to get ready. A quick shower, painkillers and a change of clothes is all he can afford and he goes back to his apartment twice after leaving, forgetting his wallet and his textbooks. Breakfast is a coffee to go that burns his lip and tongue. His stomach will have to wait a while.
---
He barely makes it to class on time and the only seat left is in the front row. It’s the first musical history class of the semester given by one of the most influential professors in the country and frankly Himchan is quite looking forwards to the traditional instrument core. Filled with a renewed sense of enthusiasm he stumbles his way down the stairs garnering a few snickers from students in the aisle seats before taking the last available place at the front. The professor glances at his watch as Himchan settles and pulls out his stationary. His bag upends from his lap, spilling its contents around him and he lets out a groan that sends another round of chuckles about him.
He crams everything back into his bag, tucking it under his seat and it’s then that he realises he put all his pens away. He’s about to reach for his bag again, the professor introducing himself at the front when the guy next to him with the new and branded sneakers taps his hand with one of his own pens. ‘Looking for this?’
Himchan looks up from the pen to meet creased eyes and a familiar gummy smile. It’s just as handsome as he remembered. ‘T-Thanks. Himchan’ He mumbles, barely containing the blush that heats his skin. The other laughs, a low deep sound, thick like honey. ‘No, actually I’m Yongguk’ He pauses for a moment and jerks his chin. Himchan’s stomach grumbles. ‘Last night was fun but you disappeared pretty quickly. Can I take you out for breakfast?’
Himchan nods, feeling his blush tenfold. He opens his mouth to reply, his brain already stuttering over a reply when the professor clears his throat. ‘This is a lecture hall, not speed dating so perhaps you wouldn’t mind waiting until class is over before continuing, hmm?’
The two apologise, cheeks pink and smiles wide as class begins.