Kyungsoo loves autumn in Chicago. The cool breeze is a lovely contrast to the summer heat he experienced in the Hamptons with his parents. The leaves crunch pleasantly under his Louis Vuitton dress shoes as he strides onto campus, happy to be back. He’s in such a good mood, even the sight of a gaggle of students blocking the campus walkway doesn’t put him off at first. The rag tag group, dressed in an array of fashion sins such as cut-off jean jackets and non-ironic berets, is accosting people walking by and animatedly waving clipboards as they prattle on about something. Kyungsoo’s curiosity gets the better of him and he squints to better make out the slogan on the back of one girl’s shirt.BERNIE 2016That’s enough to make Kyungsoo veer left down an alternate path to avoid the group. Unfortunately, one boy seems to have noticed him eyeing the pack of canvassers and jogs after him, his messy blonde hair not even bouncing as he trots, having apparently been purposefully coiffed to stick out in random directions. “Hey there!” he greets with a smile trying to compete with the sun’s brilliant rays. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”For the sake of the pretty day, Kyungsoo half-suppresses his eye roll and speaks before the other has a chance to really launch into a pitch and waste his breath. “Don’t bother. I’m a Hillary supporter.”“Oh, so you’re a Democrat? Awesome. I am, too, but what our party really needs this electi–““I, don’t bother.” Kyungsoo ignores the colorful flyer being held out to him and refuses to make eye contact with the boy, hoping this ends the discussion.But the canvasser persists, walking backwards and still waving the paper sheet at him. “If you’ll just take this succinct info sheet, you’ll see why Bernie Sanders is thesuperior candidate for anyone who truly believes in liberalism.”Fed up, Kyungsoo stops and calmly turns toward the Sander’s fan, accepting the flyer. The tall boy grins at him in victory. Looking him dead in the eye, Kyungsoo rips the sheet in half and then drops it in the recycling bin conveniently located right behind the blonde. In the process, the Hillary supporter breaches the boy’s personal space, brushing against the taller’s arm as he maintains his frigid eye contact. “Oops, I lost that one. Care to give me another?” he challenges with an arched brow.The hipster gapes at Kyungsoo, speechless, before narrowing his eyes as he lets out of a huff of disbelief.“Didn’t think so. You should switch to the winning team and vote Clinton.” With that, Kyungsoo checks his gold Rolex and noting the time, strides away without a further goodbye. There’s no way he’s letting a socialist make him late on the first day.Kyungsoo arrives in the classroom 15 minutes early and selects his preferred seat. Second row, two seats in from the aisle. He proceeds to set up his things on the small desk area in front of him: a fresh notebook, two pens (in case one runs out of ink), a green highlighter, and tiny sticky notes to flag the ‘absolutely cannot forget these’ revelations. He’s been looking forward to this senior seminar class: It’s not every political science major’s luck that they can take the upper level seminar on Campaign Politics during a presidential campaign year.Brushing off a stray piece of lint that somehow attached itself to his blazer between the time he left his apartment and now, Kyungsoo smiles at several of his fellow senior PoliSci majors as they trickle into the room. An auburn-haired boy, dressed in a classic white button-down and navy slacks, strides in and stops by Kyungsoo’s row.“Hey, Soo. Finally back from the Hamptons?” the boy asks with an approving glance over Kyungsoo’s light tan while giving a friendly bro-handshake. “Wish I could’ve gotten out of my internship for at least a week to join everyone.” Kyungsoo nods in acknowledgement. Their families usually summered there together, and it was distressingly quiet without the other boy around. “You’re in your usual spot, I see.”“Just as I imagine you’ll be taking the third row, Baekhyun,” he replies drolly, “so you can hide behind me and hope the professor won’t notice when you’re on your phone.”Baekhyun chuckles and slides into the seat directly behind Kyungsoo. “You know it. Hey, are we still on for flyer distributions later this week?”“Yep. I’ve already coordinated with Junmyeon. I’ll be getting them from campaign headquarters after class.” Kyungsoo turns to face the front just as the door opens again.Their professor, Dr. Lee Jinki, enters the classroom and greets them all warmly. “Good to see so many familiar faces,” the aging man says, nodding at the dozen or so students in the classroom and sharing a particularly approving smile with Kyungsoo. “Taking attendance will be a breeze. You’ve all received a copy of the syllabus via email,yes? Then let’s get started.”It’s about 10 minutes into class, and Kyungsoo has already filled two pages full of notes when the door flies open with a bang and a student bursts into the room panting. Kyungsoo startles in his seat and gives the newcomer the stink eye for interrupting a riveting discussion on campaign donation limits before his eyes bug out in shock. It’s that Bernie guy from the lawn.“Sorry, was caught up in a canvassing debrief,” Bernie-guy wheezes out as he stumbles over to take a seat front and center. Unkempt blonde hair, bronze skin, and the ratty collar of a blue jean jacket now perfectly block Kyungsoo’s view of the professor at the podium.Kyungsoo huffs and furrows his brow in irritation. Who is this guy, anyway? He knows all the senior Poli Sci majors.“Ah, Jongin! Glad you’ll be joining us. Everyone, this is Jongin, a junior who I had the pleasure of mentoring through an independent study this summer,” Dr. Lee addresses the class.“But sir,” Kyungsoo leans to the right to try to make eye contact with the professor around the offending character in the seat before him, interjecting before he can stop himself. “Isn’t this class only for seniors?” He side eyes this ‘Jongin’ with a tense glare.The boy tosses an annoyed look over his shoulder that screams ‘mind your own business’ but straightens up upon recognizing Kyungsoo. His mouth forms a puckered little “o” that eases out into a smarmy smile that matches the impish twinkle in his eyes.“Yes, it usually is, Kyungsoo, but I decided to make an exception for Jongin. He’s very passionate about the election. Look out – he just might win you over,” jokes Dr. Lee with an affable wink.Kyungsoo scoffs. ‘Yeah, right,’ he thinks as he tears his eyes away from the (unfortunately) mesmerizing smirk on the younger’s face. Dr. Lee continues on with the lecture, and Kyungsoo returns to his notes. He’s somewhat distracted by the noise and movement of Jongin digging around in his tattered knapsack, presumably for a writing utensil of some kind, but Kyungsoo forges on, selecting a green highlighter to emphasize his note on the $200 increase in donation limits for this election cycle. Suddenly, a tan hand with a familiar red-white-&-blue Sanders flyer obstructs half his notebook. He glares up to meet mischievous, golden brown irises.“Since you, unfortunately, LOST the first one,” Jongin says with an obnoxious eyebrow wiggle.Refusing to touch the distasteful flyer, Kyungsoo uses his pen to flick it off his desk and back into the younger boy’s face. “Oops,” he bites out sarcastically.“But that gives Super PACs too much power,” Jongin protests. “Corporations already run Washington, and these rules are letting them overly influence the election process now, too. Before we know it, it’ll be practically impossible for the regular citizen’s voice to be heard over all the bribe money.” He’s already in a shit mood because of his trip home yesterday, and today’s course topic is only making things worse. He runs his hand through his pink locks in frustration. (The dye job was the result of a midnight whim inside the local drugstore, where a cheap box of Clairol Nice’n Easy caught his eye and reminded him of cotton candy. No regrets.)From the seat directly behind him, he hears the familiar, silky voice of the senior who seems to make it his life mission to disagree with him at every turn. “I don’t see the problem. They’re operating within legal bounds, just raising money for causes they believe in. It’s only natural thatcandidates can’t get as much support from them as others, and such candidates should probably focus on strengthening their platforms if they want more financial backing from PACs,” Kyungsoo says with a sophisticated calmness in his demeanor. Somehow, the preppy boy always exudes perfect diplomacy in their class discussions, with condescension laced perfectly between the lines for anyone listening closely (and Jongin always is). What a fucking typical politician. It drives the junior crazy.Jongin spins around in his chair to face the senior. “Or MAYBE we should keep corporate dollars out of the democratic selection process. How are we supposed to hear the voice of the people, the working and middle class, when it’s drowned out by the rich? So caught up in their useless high fashion and yachting, it’s not even like they’re well-informed,” he retorts, glaring daggers into Kyungsoo’s large chocolate eyes. His hand reaches out with a mind of its own to fiddle with the senior’s expensive tie, embroidered all over with the signature Ralph Lauren logo. As much as he wants to curl his fingers into the luxe fabric and yank, hard, to choke the ebony-haired snob, Jongin resists and tosses the tie up so it harmlessly flops against Kyungsoo’s face instead. A small wave of amused commotion ripples through the class. The students are accustomed by now to their regular verbal sparring, but this is new.The senior’s eyes bug out for a split second before giving Jongin an unamused look with half-hooded eyes. “you,” the senior says with a calculated coolness as he smooths his tie back down. “Some people have sufficient headspace to both be informedhave hobbies. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being wealthy or enjoying high quality clothes. Maybe you’d be less bitter about the world if you spent more than $7 on cheap bubblegum colored dye and took a little pride in your appearance.” Kyungsoo has the audacity to twirl a finger through his pink fringe and then flick the ends.This childish reaction is more personal and intrusive than usual. That tie flip must have gotten under his skin. Jongin hears himself snapping back before he knows what he’s doing. “Well, we’re not all as content to live off of daddy’s money as you are.” He vaguely hears the guy in the third row (Baekhyun, is it?) gasp.“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a side job running data analytics for several companies in the textile industry. I make my own—““And who got you that setup, huh? Daddy didn’t use his network to help you at all?” Jongin’s attack sounds acidic even to him, but it hits its mark perfectly if the split second of Kyungsoo flinching is any indication. A moment later, Kyungsoo leans closer into his personal space, eyes now narrowed to slits.“You act like you’re so underprivileged, but I saw you getting out of a chauffeured Rolls-Royce just yesterday. Who exactly are these ‘common people’ you pretend to be so in touch with, hmm?” he murmurs quietly enough that the majority of the class probably can’t hear. Kyungsoo is so close that his breath tickles Jongin’s cheek when he speaks, and it fans the raging fire inside the junior.“That’s not—it’s my mom’s okay?! They use it to ‘fetch’ me because they know I won’t force Minseok to drive back to the estate without me and get him fired,” Jongin splutters, before dropping his eyes from their shared gaze, feeling the senior’s focused pupils extract too much honesty from him. With furrowed brows, he stares at Kyungsoo’s feet instead, trying not to be overwhelmed by the senior’s distressingly good looks. But his eyes land on the elder’s Italian leather satchel, and the bag only serves to remind him of how much this prick surrounds himself with luxury and foreign goods, just like his— no. He tries to redirect the conversation back to the course topic at hand. “The real point is Super PACs think they should just be able to buy politicians, to make them their puppets, and we’re only making it easier for them. It’s wrong!” Jongin feels himself ranting but can’t stop it. “They symbolize everything awful about the top 1% and the kind of people who take advantage of tax loopholes and don’t pay their employees appropriate wages just so they can take pointless cruises around the Mediterranean with kids they don’t even care about and call it ‘family time,’ and I’m SICK of it!”Jongin clenches his jaw as he remembers his mother’s weak pleas that he just set his ‘differences of opinion’ aside and go with them to Italy in December. Fuck that. He’s done pretending that his parents’ money and trips patch any of the holes between them that could be repaired with, you know, actual love and support. His dad just wants his presence to validate that he’s a good father, and his mom only pretends to care so their neighbors don’t inquire what’s happened to their once obedient Jongin whose hair is never that dignified, boring black anymore. Well, they can all sit on their cold piles of cash and talk shit about him for all he cares. He’s done pandering to them.Dr. Lee’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Gentlemen, GENTLEMEN. Let’s stay on track here. I advise you to continue discussing your personal feelings after class over in the campus coffee shop, okay?” Professor Lee says with a good-natured chuckle to distill the tension in the room.Trying to regain a bit of his dignity after revealing more than he intended, Jongin swallows thickly and hides back again behind his bad boy demeanor. Tsking his tongue at Kyungsoo, he tries for aloof in a hushed voice. “You wish. Sorry, no coffee date with me, preppy. I doubt we have much in common.” Jongin bats his eyelashes sarcastically to top it off convincingly before turning back around to the front. Half-expecting a final retort from the senior, he’s unnerved to catch Kyungsoo frowning lightly instead, almost in pity, like he didn’t even hear Jongin’s sass and was still hung up on the personal revelations from just before. Concern doesn’t look good on the elder’s porcelain skin, creating lines on his usually smooth, alabaster forehead; Jongin reminds himself he shouldn’t care. Doesn’t care. He slouches further into his seat.He should feel like he’s won this round, having gotten the last word in and shutting up the senior. But all Jongin tastes is the bitterness in this ‘victory’ as he half-listens to Dr. Lee continue lecturing. He chooses not to speak for the remainder of class.Any sympathy Kyungsoo felt for the hipster having a terrible relationship with his parents quickly dissipated, what with the junior constantly trying to push his extreme left ideas in every class discussion. Thank God the final Campaign Politics class ends, bringing the quarter to a close.“Admit it. You’re going to miss staring at the back of my head.” Jongin’s hair, now silver-grey, falls a little in his eyes and Kyungsoo has to resist the urge to swipe it aside. The junior has kept his messy undercut style but recently added an all caps “BERNIE 4 PREZ” shaved into the back just above the nape. Jongin obnoxiously drags his fingers over the small hairs, underlying the slogan, and the movement makes the senior wonder what it’d feel like under his fingertips.“Why on earth would I miss having my eyes assaulted by routinely bad dye jobs and socialist propaganda?” Kyungsoo retorts while calmly packing up all his things into his Fendi bag, taking longer than normal to gather up his myriad of note-taking materials. Is he lingering? He’s not lingering. Why would he linger.Jongin rocks back and forth on his feet, puckering his thick lips into a doubtful expression. “I dunno, I think my talk about free public college for everyone is starting to sway you,” he sing-songs. “Maybe even universal healthcare is sinking into that cold,” an absent-minded fingertip traces over Kyungsoo’s chest in the middle of his Armani button-down, “hardened heart of yours.” Jongin’s eyes are hazy when the senior glances at him, and something about the whole atmosphere here is… off.Squaring his shoulders, Kyungsoo slaps the tanned hand away from his rapidly beating heart, earning an indignant “ow” from the younger. “Not a chance. And I am not hard. I mean… I just — See you never,” he spits out before hastily leaving the classroom.He strides quickly across the quad, focused on putting as much distance between himself and the despicable junior, reminding himself that now he won’t have to see the tall Bernie fanatic in class every week, and how that’s a good thing, and—“SOO! Geez, wait up. I’ve been calling after you for like 2 minutes, damn,” pants Baekhyun, trotting to catch up. “What the hell was that?”“What. Sorry, I just didn’t hear you. Lots on my mind,” Kyungsoo dismisses.“Not out here, I mean that scene with Sanders’ stooge back there. Normally by the end of class, you’re both ready to brand ‘traitor to the Democratic party’ on each other’s foreheads. But for a second there today, I thought you were gonna… I don’t know…” Baekhyun hesitates, index finger tapping his lip in contemplation.“You’re imagining things.”Baek smirks and leans close with a conspiratorial air, the brim of his tweed newsboy cap bumping into Kyungsoo’s temple. “I didn’t even tell you what I was thinking. Why are you so quick to dismiss it as ‘just my imagination?’”“Because you’re an idiot and the only reason you’re going to get a B in that class is thanks to my impeccable notes.” Kyungsoo pulls the newsboy cap down to cover his friend’s face and shoves him back by it. “I hate that hipster brat. Good riddance, not having to see him every week with that provocative smile and that atrocious hair in my face while I’m trying to learn,” Kyungsoo grumbles.“Provocative, huh?”“As in, dipshit.” He whacks the back of Baek’s head for good measure, to slap any misconceptions right off his mind. Kyungsoo’s ears burn. He blames the cold and his lack of a hat.“You know, if it really bothered you, you could have moved seats,” Baekhyun says, looking off in the distance with a sly smile playing on his lips.“Hell no. That’s my seat. Moving would have been letting him win.”“Whatever you say. I think you started enjoying the view…”“Shut up. I’m hungry. Let’s get food.”December was a whirlwind of canvassing activity for Jongin, as Sanders gained ground slowly but steadily in key pockets in Chicago. The holidays were quiet, as he stuck to his decision to stay on campus while his parents went to Europe. It wasn’t bad. Chanyeol kept him company, continuing to volunteer with him at the call centers and then inviting him to have Christmas dinner with his folks. All in all, it was peaceful.Peaceful in part because he hadn’t crossed paths with Do Kyungsoo at all. No doubt, the snob was wherever his elite group holiday-ed. Maybe somewhere metropolitan like Hong Kong for a killer New Year’s Eve party, or maybe somewhere quiet and warm like an island in the South Pacific. Jongin has visions of the senior relaxed on a tropical beach, shirtless with martini in hand, cocky smile perpetually on his lips as he soaks in the su—Jongin grinds the heels of his palms into his eye sockets to blur away the image. He grabs the bulky stack of pamphlets and checks with Yixing, their coordinator, which street corner they’re supposed to man today.“Same place as usual?” Chanyeol asks, juggling a box of clipboards. A few clatter on the campaign office floor and the gangly boy stoops to gather them up.“No, actually. A few blocks over from our typical spot. Dude, you want to trade?” Jongin offers, taking pity on the uncoordinated giant still fumbling around on the floor. Yeol gives him a grateful smile and takes the easier-to-manage pamphlet pile.When they arrive at their assigned corner, Jongin frowns. It’s along the backside of a huge office tower, near the loading dock. “This can’t be right. Xing must have gotten the coordinates mixed up – let’s find the front entrance.”Rounding the corner, they quickly get swept up into the bustle of pedestrians streaming in and out of the building. Perfect – the heavy foot traffic makes it easy for the two boys to distribute their campaign material and get names and contact info for people interested in getting Bernie updates.Things go swimmingly for about 5 minutes before Jongin feels a demanding tap on his left shoulder and hears a deep, authoritative voice ask, “What do you think you’re doing here?”Expecting building security, Jongin spins with an innocent smile on his face, ready to sweet talk his way out of trouble. He’s unprepared to see a pissed off Kyungsoo with arms crossed in front of him. Behind the senior, Baekhyun gives him a dainty finger wave and amused smile.“Uh… spreading the word about Sanders and the upcoming primary,” Jongin replies dumbly.“This is OUR spot.” The statement hangs in the air, as if it should be sufficient to get Kyungsoo what he wants. Self-absorbed prick.Jongin laughs and gestures at the sidewalk. “I’m pretty sure this is a public walkway, not ‘Do Kyungsoo Ave.’ We have just as much right to be here as you.”Chanyeol finishes giving his pitch to a middle-aged man and wanders over with a perplexed look. “Everything okay, Nini?” he asks, eyes flickering back and forth between the two. Baekhyun grabs the taller by the arm and tugs him off to the side, shushing him. “You’re just in time for the showdown. Let’s not interrupt – it’s more fun this way,” the auburn-haired boy winks.Meanwhile, Jongin keeps up the staring contest he’s got going with Kyungsoo. With his obnoxiously ramrod straight posture and usual air of condescension, the senior lectures him. “We’re here every week canvassing for Clinton and have been for the past two months without incidence. I know you’re just ruffians with little sense of the decency and decorum necessary for politics, but surely you understand the concept of?” He enunciates the last word with entitlement just spilling off his lips.Exasperated, Jongin counters petulantly, “’Decency and decorum?’ Oh please, the whole world knows your candidate’s spouse let someone else go down on him while IN the sacred office of the presidency! Talk about“Really?” Kyungsoo says, eyes flashing dangerously. He leans in, and Jongin tries not to gulp as he smells the boy’s expensive Bleu de Chanel cologne from how close they are. Quirking one of his prominent brows, Kyungsoo speaks in a low rumble. “You take that much issue with someone sucking cock?”Such unexpected words from the usually proper boy leave Jongin stunned into silence, jaw dropped as he stares. The glint in Kyungsoo’s dark chocolate eyes reveal more lewdness than he could have ever imagined. “Pity,” he thinks he hears slip out from the elder’s heart-shaped lips, and his brain turns to mush as a surge of desire shoots through him. Jongin opens and closes his mouth a few times, failing to generate a comeback. With a satisfied smirk, Kyungsoo slowly withdraws from Jongin’s personal space, and the senior’s face returns to its typical prim and dignified expression.“I wouldn’t bother using that weak attack against Hillary if you’re not prepared to back up your criticism when someone challenges it.” And with that, Kyungsoo turns on his heel and struts away, summoning Baek with a flick of his fingers to help him engage with some new passers-by to extol the virtues of their candidate. Baekhyun gives Yeol and Jongin a once over with a big grin before shrugging his shoulders and tailing after his friend.Jongin can’t stop himself from staring at the preppy boy’s ass sauntering away and replaying the naughty words in his mind. Chanyeol jogs over and pats him on the back. “You alright? What’d he say?”“I-it…” Jongin stutters with a deep blush. “It’s nothing. Let’s just work the other corner across the street and ignore them,” he suggests, tugging his friend’s arm and heading in the opposite direction of where Kyungsoo and Baekhyun are soliciting.