#taeyong blurbs
dotae’s entire relationship is a high school enemies to lovers bl anime, i’m just saying
i had to do it to ‘em
pretty boy // lee taeyong // kim doyoung
fluff, high school au, lee taeyong x kim doyoung
wc: 1180
cw: language
Taeyong hates avoiding people.
Mostly because he’s bad at it, not because there’s any guilt involved with deceiving people for his own convenience. There’s a whole multitude of people he wishes he could wipe off the face of the earth, or more realistically, avoid on a daily basis—namely his neighbour’s twelve-year-old emo son, the annoying bitch at Starbucks who always misspells his name, and Mrs. Kwak, who took five marks off of his last exam for ‘bad penmanship.’ And there’s one other person who occasionally makes the list, but he’s a special case; we’ll get to that in a second.
Taeyong’s bad at, well, being bad. That’s not to say he’s a stickler for rules, and god forbid he turns into a teacher’s pet when there are already so many around him. Frankly, he doesn’t care about the rules. And he’s been in the dean’s office enough times to know exactly how many warts she has on her face (5, as of recently). Taeyong’s one, very critical issue with being a rule-breaker is his lack of typical bad boy charisma. Hell, with a pretty face and large brown eyes that can make any girl swoon, he can’t just walk into class with his tie undone and expect to get away with it. It’s rather concerning: just how many people he’s tricked into thinking he’s the student body president, when he hasn’t spoken a single word to any of them.
It extends to beyond just school—which brings us back, full circle, to the certain somebody he’s been avoiding like the plague.
About a half hour after the final bell, he’s on his way home, just about to safely pass the music room. Avoiding him is comparable to sneaking around a boss in a video game, or walking behind a random NPC so you don’t waste three full minutes in a meaningless cutscene. He knows he’s bad at it: all skittish and nervous, like a horse ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. He keeps his head down and darts past the few students left in the hallway, simply praying the person in question is already in the music room, not waiting around to cut him off.
And even if he sees him, maybe he won’t recognize him immediately… right? It’s the middle of winter, so he’s got a beanie covering his hair and a scarf wrapped around his neck. It all fogs up his glasses when he breathes, but it’s probably for the better. One more thing to obstruct his face from view.
“Lee Taeyong.”
Well,fuck.
He stops dead in his tracks, knowing full well: he’s been caught.
There’s no sneaking around the final boss—the final boss being Kim Doyoung. President of the music council, resident master of ceremonies, teacher’s pet extraordinaire, and above all, the bane of Taeyong’s love life. The bane, or maybe the saviour, it’s really a matter of perspective. If Doyoung wasn’t so insufferable and dead set on making Taeyong’s life hell (affectionately, he hopes), he would’ve been Taeyong’s first proper love interest after his two-month fling with Nakamoto Yuta in sophomore year.
Doyoung’s pretty, Taeyong cannot deny it. He’s just a little taller than Taeyong, all long-limbed but still elegant, with jet hair and deep brown eyes. There’s something soft and innocent about his appearance—his hair’s always neatly combed and he’s always in a proper, pristine uniform—but Taeyong knows he hides rebellion beneath his usual appearance. Venture out into the woods after school, and you’ll find him with a select group of students, doing god-knows-what (though it usually ends with a bong and a verylate night). Doyoung likes to follow the rules at school, but will be the first to break them the moment he’s off school property.
“Hi,” Taeyong mumbles, unconsciously shuffling backwards when Doyoung approaches.
“Hi,” Doyoung drawls mockingly, visibly pleased by his catch; a week-long game of cat and mouse, hide and seek, and he finally has Taeyong where he wants him. “It’s been awhile since I last saw you, Yongie. Where have you been? Were you sick?”
“No,” Taeyong grunts. “Actually, I’m gonna miss my bus if I don’t get going, so maybe we can catch up a little later?”
Doyoung seems unimpressed by the choice of lie. There were definitely much better choices Taeyong could’ve gone for. Homework, midterms, his mom berating him all the time… he could’ve said his cat got chlamydia and died, and Doyoung would’ve at least fake-simpered over it for a moment before continuing with his torment. “The 189 bus doesn’t leave until five, Yongie. That’s in an hour.”
“Well, you’ve got band,” Taeyong says, nodding at the instrument case dangling from Doyoung’s hands. “I think you’re gonna be late.”
Doyoung hesitates, as if seriously considering it. After all, he hasn’t missed a single practice—as the principal flutist of the school orchestra and president of the music council, he can’t afford to. Taeyong doesn’t doubt the conductor relies on his expertiseandexperienceto lead practices, because even the subject teachers turn to his insufferable ass for help sometimes; he hopes mentioning it is enough to get Doyoung off of his case. Just for a day. One day, so he can figure out what the hell he’s going to do from here.
But to his dismay, Doyoung promptly drops his flute case in Taeyong’s hands and tilts his head curiously. “Hm.”
Taeyong fumbles with the instrument, and Doyoung glares at him. “That little hunk of metal is worth two grand and my entire college scholarship. Don’t drop it, pretty boy.”
Pretty boy. Taeyong hates it, but he still reacts viscerally.
“You know what I think?” Doyoung asks, taking a slight step forward so Taeyong can practically smell the cologne lingering on his uniform jacket. Something simple, but expensive, Taeyong thinks, and catches himself leaning toward the smell. God, he really is down horrendous for this boy.
Doyoung grins. “I think you’ve been avoiding me, pretty boy.”
“I don’t avoid people,” Taeyong says with a shake of his head. “I’m bad at it.”
“Evidently,” Doyoung agrees, then reaches up to pull the hat off of Taeyong’s head. “So maybe you should stop doing it, hm? Stop taking your lunch outside and come sit with me. Stop running off right after class.” A breathless laugh. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
Taeyong lets out a quiet exhale, once again fogging up the circular lenses of his glasses. Before he can even register what’s happening, Doyoung’s pulling them off of him, leaning in close to get a better look at him. He’s mere inches away, and Taeyong doesn’t know if he wants to slap him or kiss him. Probably the latter, but he doesn’t have the time or balls for that. Dammit, he’s not a coward, he should just do it, put a stop to the endless games and take charge—but by the time that thought crosses his mind, Doyoung’s already taken his instrument back and gone on his way.
“See you around, pretty boy.”
Taeyong puts his glasses and hat back on, walking away in utter shame.
