It was utter mayhem.

Surya hustled the first-years onto the buses like they were cattle. His ears practically bleeding from their onslaught of chatter and endless questions.

He tried not to look as frazzled as he felt and plastered on a smile, tucking a few sticky strands of hair behind his ear. The impatient movement drew the attention of several first-years, who tracked him like he was some kind of celebrity.

One of them popped up beside his elbow, wide-eyed and curious. “Have you always looked like this?”

“What?” Surya blinked down at him.

“I’m just wondering if there’s any hope for me.”

Another chimed in without hesitation. “There’s none.”

Surya managed a polite smile, pretending he hadn’t thought the exact same thing. “I possibly had more acne,” he offered. “Now, come on, onto the bus we go.”

“You’re a complete heartthrob, Surya-tov, and your skin is so clean. Do you use any products?”

He laughed away the question. “Oh, even the driver is here. Let’s get on the bus now.”

By the time he found his seat beside Daichi, he wished the camp was already over. He felt too hot and sweaty, too overcrowded, and he had a headache starting in the back of his skull.

Daichi, on the other hand, was completely ignoring the chaos. He had his earphones in, listening to orchestral pieces while he flipped through a magazine at his leisure. He was maddeningly attractive, and to think, they could’ve still been in bed rather than crammed into this bus.

As if sensing Surya’s silent torment, Daichi plucked out one earphone and offered it to him. He gratefully accepted it, and the two sat in a comfortable silence for the entire three-hour drive, since the first-years’ ruckus would’ve drowned out most attempts at conversation.

When they arrived at camp, they herded the group to the hall for icebreakers. He silently thanked Harper for drilling the itinerary and camp layout into him, even though he was far less thankful about sharing a room with these first-years.

Hours blurred together. Between overseeing the activities and managing the mayhem, he often caught glimpses of Daichi sneaking off to the shade or somewhere out of sight to smoke. He eventually managed to escape, too, and went to join Daichi on the patio.

Daichi was languidly sprawled against the gutter pipe with a cigarette between his knuckles. Smoke curled lazily into the air as he tipped his head back, his gaze sliding up to meet Surya’s. He looked far too at ease for someone tasked with supervising the first-years.

“Harper would make a great prison warden, don’t you think?” Daichi mused, a small smile curving his mouth. “Patrolling the masses, refusing to let anyone escape those icebreakers.” He paused. “Hey, that there. Is that something flying in front of my face or someone running in the distance?”

Surya followed Daichi’s finger and spotted a lone figure on the field below. “That must be that first-year from the basketball team.”

“Oh, he’s crazy. He ran nearly double in the relay today, and he’s still going? That’s some insane stamina.” Daichi glanced up at him, and smirked. “Someone else should be working on theirs.”

Surya wouldn’t let him derail the conversation. “What’s this? The Little Bears have reeled in a new fan?”

“They’re still the worst,” Daichi admitted, “but he’s the littlest. And I find him funny.”

This was another one of Daichi’s fleeting interests. It wasn’t unusual for him to notice others but it was rare, and the fact that he’d chosen to sit here with a perfect view of the field made Surya curious.

There was a loud clunk behind them as someone fell out of the hall. It shocked them to see Asahi, a third-year, hopping madly over the patio and wearing only one shoe, struggling to pull on the other. He finally managed to shove it on and bolted down the hill to join Malay.

He lasted only two laps trying to match Malay’s pace. Then he crumpled to his knees, retching, and stayed out of commission until Malay jogged over.

Malay forced him to do some cool-down stretches, earning a furious shove in return. He continued stretching even when Asahi stormed away.

Then, finally done with exercising, Malay veered toward the vending machine rather than the dorms. He looked surprisingly refreshed after such a gruelling workout, and for some inexplicable reason, his expression brightened the instant he spotted Surya and Daichi.

“It’s Akira,” Daichi sang.

He beamed at them like sunlight. “It’s me.”

“This is Surya,” Daichi introduced, being uncharacteristically friendly.

Surya found himself shaking the hand that Akira stuck out. There was a flash of disappointment across Akira’s face when Surya didn’t immediately recognise him from Hanseol, but those curls were a different story.

“It’s impressive how early you arrive to my lectures,” Surya said, keeping his tone casual, and Akira’s face lit up. “Maybe it’s too early if you’re sleeping through them?”

Akira choked, his hands covering his mortified expression, which only made Daichi laugh. When Daichi invited him to sit with them, his enthusiasm was blinding, and he plopped down in a heartbeat. Then he didn’t seem to know what to say.

Usually Daichi didn’t care to salvage a conversation, preferring instead to laugh at another’s awkwardness, but today he asked, “Was that basketball player giving you trouble?”

He had a terrible history with that team. He was a good fighter, short and brutal, but he tried to take care of his hands now as an artist. Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from beating Dassin to a pulp for all those homophobic comments, but Asahi? No, Asahi wouldn’t be worth the effort even if he was messing with Akira. So why had he bothered to ask?

“Is Asahi giving me trouble?” Akira echoed, looking puzzled. “No, I think I might have troubled him. I asked him if maybe we could find out what the hell his problem was over lunch sometime, but I don’t think he’s figured out that we’re going to be friends.”

Daichi nodded slowly and decided to play along. “It’s the kind of thing that’ll keep you awake at night, huh? What else could keep you up but the start of a budding relationship?”

“Could be that you took a nap in the afternoon,” Akira said, grinning.

It was shocking to watch Daichi looking so amused. At how easily Akira had drawn out his humour. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have Daichi growing attached, and the thing about Daichi was that once he liked someone, he returned every small gesture of affection with twice the enthusiasm.

It had caught Surya off-guard when they first started dating. There was a lot of hand-holding and gentle knee squeezes under the table. Daichi’s arm always snaking effortlessly around his waist or shoulders, and at every opportunity, he adorned Surya with featherlight kisses on his temples and cheeks. His hunger for love nearly insatiable.

He suddenly held out a cigarette, offering it to Akira like he often did with Erik. “Would you like one?”

“He’s an athlete,” Surya reminded him.

“That I am,” Akira agreed with a nod, “and also underage.”

“Ridiculous that it’s legal to drink but not to smoke,” Daichi muttered, flicking the cigarette back into its pack without a second thought.

“I think it’s ridiculous that people respond to ‘I’ll see you later’ with ‘Not if I see you first’.” Akira very seriously told him, tugging absentmindedly at the cuffs of his hoodie. “Does that mean if you see me first, you’ll avoid me?”

Surya felt a bit like laughing himself. He hadn’t expected Akira’s energy to be so infectious, a blend of boyish sincerity and blind innocence, but maybe that was what Daichi found so entertaining.

“You’re right,” Daichi slowly said. “I’ve never thought about that.”

“I doubt we’ll ever be the same.” He cracked a half-smile, noticing the faint blush dusting Akira’s cheeks and wondering how every little thing could embarrass him.

“Well, I’ll be offended to the highest degree now, though someone once told me my learning curve was a flat line, so this isn’t actually that unforgiveable.” Daichi then abruptly glanced at Akira, quirking a brow. “Any metaphors for that one?”

“Um.” Akira paused. “You opened a can of worms, so lie in it?”

Daichi’s mouth curved into a grin, slow and delighted.