the last one

If I Were Your Boyfriend (Never Let You Go)

equalises — Tue, 01 Oct 2013 14:18:30 GMT

If I Were Your Boyfriend (Never Let You Go)
5,200w; pg
sehun/kai
summary: This isn't a story about falling in love. This is a story about finding love.
a/n: written for hoaegi for kpop_ficmix.
thank you to thatdayismine for all the hand holding and to sphexed for reading through this and giving me the thumbs up ♥

(Jongin’s only four seats away from him, yet, the distance has never felt more impending.)

exigency

equalises — Sat, 03 Aug 2013 12:13:24 GMT

exigency
1,048w; pg
kris/chanyeol
summary: chanyeol's never been able to turn away from the allure of danger. somewhat of a secret agents!au fic.
a/n: written with kim_ri in mind, because she loves krisyeol and i love her ♥

exigency
a case or situation that demands prompt action or remedy.

It’s a bad idea. He should have known from the moment Kris caught his eye at the club, a smirk toying the corner of his lips.

But Chanyeol finds himself being drawn to Kris nonetheless, allowing Kris to pay for his drink while he slides into the empty seat beside him. “You want to get out of here?” Kris asks him, five minutes later, his hand hot on Chanyeol’s thigh.

He shouldn’t. It would be insane and incredibly selfish of him, and -

Chanyeol just can’t find it in himself to say no, when Kris closes the remaining distance between them, his lips desperate against Chanyeol’s, hands warm on Chanyeol’s back. And Chanyeol just falls a little deeper, as his eyes flutter shut.

He’s never been able to fight that insatiable love he has for danger.

✯

It becomes an incredibly repetitive cycle.

Despite Chanyeol changing the clubs he goes to every week, he somehow runs into Kris in every single club. It’s almost as if Kris is challenging him, telling him that he’ll be able to track him down, no matter how hard he tries to run.

Don’t do it, he can almost hear Baekhyun saying at the back of his head.

But Chanyeol can’t find it in himself to say no to Kris’s roaming fingers, or the heat in that smile of his. He can’t bring himself to forget the way Kris’s skin had felt, hot against his, as he rubs Kris through his boxers. Neither can he forget the low growl that Kris lets out, when he’s this close and Chanyeol’s hand just isn’t fast enough, the friction just isn’t satisfying enough for him.

These are the things that Chanyeol finds himself thinking about when Jongin briefs him on his missions, despite the dark looks Jongin shoots him wordlessly.

“Be careful,” Baekhyun tells him abruptly, as he adjusts the lapels of Chanyeol’s leather jacket one day, before he goes on a mission.

“Hey, I’m not the best agent here for no reason,” Chanyeol manages easily, patting Baekhyun’s hand gently.

There is something behind the look that Baekhyun shoots him, the same ones that Baekhyun always gives him when he knows Chanyeol is about to commit an incredibly stupid sin, that sends a shiver up Chanyeol’s spine. But, it’s gone before Chanyeol can ask about it, and Baekhyun’s stupid eye smiles are back, as he removes his hands from Chanyeol’s jacket. “I know,” Baekhyun hums and turns on his heels. “I hope you do too, Chanyeol.”

✯

Baekhyun might be an idiot almost all the time, but he gives sound advice.

Chanyeol only realises that when Sehun throws him on the passenger seat of their black Mercedes convertible, his hand pressed against his right shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in hopes of numbing the pain.

“You’re going to be okay,” Sehun mutters, the scenery turning into a slow blur around them, as he slams on the accelerator, car swerving insanely while he grips the steering wheel with shaking fingers.

Chanyeol manages a laugh at that, shifting slightly in his seat and trying not to feel faint when he pulls his fingers away, only to see it damp with crimson. “It’s just a bullet,” he attempts, trying to calm Sehun down before they both die from his madman driving. “No one’s died from a bullet in the arm, don’t worry.”

“That’s the least of my worries,” Sehun deadpans, his face devoid of emotions, as he manages another insane swerve. “Take the wheel for two seconds.”

Chanyeol’s barely managed to reach over, when Sehun turns around, foot still firm on the accelerator, and fires three shots. A satisfying crash is heard, and Sehun grimaces a little, before he shoves Chanyeol off the steering wheel.

He sighs, it’s going to be a long ride back.

✯

“We need to get rid of them,” Jongin hisses, his eyes dark and sparked with a burst of fire that Chanyeol’s only seen once - when they were taking down Lu Han.

Next to him, Joonmyeon swerves around in his rolling chair, laptop balanced on his hand, as he turns the screen to face them. “I only caught him on the camera for a couple of seconds, but -”

“Jesus,” Chanyeol exhales shakily, slamming down his right hand on the table, before wincing slightly at the pain which shoots up his arm.

“I don’t know if he’s seen your face, but it’ll be better for us if you get rid of him, Park,” Jongin says, after a long hum of silence.

Chanyeol casts a quick glance over at Jongin, but Jongin’s eyes are averting his, almost as if he knows the thoughts running through Chanyeol’s mind. His heart sinks a little to the pit of his stomach, as Jongin drops a file on the table.

It’s red, not the usual black that Jongin gives him to brief him on his cases. It’s a warning, a form of compassion on Jongin’s part, something that he could get shot down for if authorities were to ever catch wind of it.

Jongin’s hand is warm on Chanyeol’s shoulder - a friend, more than a team leader - but it does little to dispel the rising bile in Chanyeol’s throat. “Good luck, Chanyeol.”

There’s a long silence, punctuated with Joonmyeon’s incessant typing on his laptop, and Chanyeol finally dares himself to pick up the file.

Photographs flutter to the ground gently, and Chanyeol freezes, the file slipping from his fingers.

Kris’s arm around his waist. Kris whispering hotly into his ears. Kris pressing a kiss to the side of Chanyeol’s neck. Kris. Kris. Kris.

They knew. They had known all along. It had been a trap, right from the start, and Chanyeol had played into their hands like a fool.

There had been no mission. It’s just been a reason, a cover-up, for the agency to send Chanyeol after the top agent of their rival agency.

And Chanyeol realises belatedly, when Kyungsoo slides a black gun onto the table, his eyes laced with sympathy, that this is his retribution, and that he has no choice.

He either carries out the mission, like he’s expected to, or he gets killed, most probably by one of his best friends, for sleeping with the top agent of their biggest rival agency.

✯

nancy, this probably isn't the type of krisyeol you have in mind, whenever you're screaming about them on twitter. but you know i can only write dark and weird things lately. i love you and i hope you don't kill me for this nonetheless ♥

this is probably the best part of the whole post.

memorandum

equalises — Sat, 27 Jul 2013 09:03:19 GMT

memorandum
20,338w; nc-17
kris/lu han, kris/yixing, jongin/kyungsoo
Summary: The curve of your lips rewrite history. Kris learns this the hard way, when he ends up opening his heart to Love, despite telling himself that he’s given up on it a long time ago.
a/n: written for tyreling for runandgun ♥

(He pretends, that the speed of his heartbeat is anxiety over Baekhyun’s words rather than the memory of the heat of Lu Han’s skin on his.)

we are the resistance

equalises — Sat, 27 Jul 2013 08:48:47 GMT

we are the resistance
563w; pg
sehun/jongin
Summary: And he’s filled with the urge to end this, win or lose.
a/n: written for iliaccrests because pacific. rim. this is supposed to be the scene before the triple attack part. and. i need to stop writing things that i won't repost.

“So,” Sehun starts with a weird wave of his hand. “This is it, huh?”

Jongin smiles a little in return. He knows that despite the bright smile on Sehun’s face, his stomach is probably in tighter knots than Jongin. If working alongside Sehun has taught him anything, it would probably be that Sehun has carefully mastered the art of plastering a look of casual indifference to his face, regardless of any situation.

The lift ride up is filled with Sehun, chattering away nervously, about things he would want to do after all this is over, places he wants to visit, people he still wants to love. Mindless, little things that Jongin already knows from their first drift, but he appreciates the chatter, even though it does little to take his mind off anything.

Echoes of their boots clashing against the metal ground as they take their first steps into the machine is louder than ever, ringing deafeningly in Jongin’s ears, and Jongin reaches out for Sehun’s hand in a rush, just before they take their positions. Sehun stares at him quizzically, and Jongin’s breath catches.

There’s so much he wants to tell Sehun, about his life, about his past, his present, and maybe his future; things that he’s never bothered voicing because Sehun probably already knows it all, sees it first-hand whenever they drift.

If there is a future for us, I want you to be in it.

“Guys, I need you to take your positions,” Chanyeol booms, his voice devoid of the bubblish laughter that Jongin has gotten accustomed to.

Sehun gives him an encouraging smile and pulls away gently, reaching for the headgear. Jongin supposes he should do the same, but he’s frozen to the spot, his chest already heavy with regret at the words that just won’t leave his throat.

“I know,” Sehun says softly, as he reaches for Jongin’s headgear and snaps it securely to his head. “If this really is an apocalypse, the only way I would want to die is fighting alongside you.”

Jongin smiles a little in return, and closes his eyes, relaxing into the familiar feeling of being inside Sehun’s head, of allowing Sehun into his.

“You guys are good to go,” Chanyeol announces, before he drops his voice, such that Jongin can hear the tremor in it. “Good luck, guys.”

Next to him, Jongin feels Sehun reaching for his hand and Jongin squeezes it tightly, while he allows memories to flood his brain. He remembers the fear in Sehun’s heart, as he crouched in a corner of the street, awaiting death. He remembers the pain his brother felt, screaming out a final warning to him, moments before it dissipated into nothingness. He remembers Kris, the look of resignation etched on his face, the moment he steps out of the elevator and wipes away the tear stains on Sehun’s face, forcing him to make a promise that pains both of them.

And he’s filled with the urge to end this, win or lose.

“Ready?” Sehun asks, when Jongin finally lets go of his hand and opens his eyes.

Jongin grins in return and nods.

Sehun returns the smile and turns his eyes to the road before them. And Jongin knows, that at the end of this insanity, regardless of what the outcome may be, Sehun will be there every step of the way with him.

when you move me (everything is groovy)

equalises — Tue, 23 Jul 2013 12:34:23 GMT

when you move me (everything is groovy)
9,511w; pg
kris/yixing, sehun/jongin
summary: Kris thinks, he may just get used to writing songs just so he can force Yixing to sing them to him.
a/n: written for tatoeba for runandgun ♥

“No,” Kris repeats, as he flips another page of the newspaper and Baekhyun exhales loudly.

Beside him, Lu Han shifts a little in his seat, the sound of his jeans scraping against the leather of the seat cushion muffled by Sehun’s incessant typing on his Blackberry. Baekhyun yanks the newspaper out of Kris’s hands, much to Kris’s annoyance, and flips it over, his finger pointing on an article that makes even Chanyeol cringe. “For the last time, this is for the good of the band. Your face is on the cover of every newspaper in the nation with derogatory titles being plastered over your eyes. We need something to shift the public’s attention. This is management’s orders, not mine, so stop taking that princely attitude with me.”

A gentle hum dusts across the room, before Chanyeol clears his throat. “Well, you know how the media’s like, the news will blow over in a week or so and everything will be fine again!”

His attempt at a laugh upon finishing his sentence causes Kris to raise an eyebrow and Sehun looks up from his phone long enough to elbow him in the ribs to shut up if he’s not going to help. Lu Han coughs lightly into a balled-up fist and suggests, albeit weakly, “Maybe we should take a vote on this?”

Kris raises both his eyebrows and Lu Han shrinks back a little in his seat, failing at what Kris supposes is a casual attempt of avoiding eye contact with him. “Maybe next ti-”

"You are not pulling this shit with me," Baekhyun deadpans, gritting his teeth as he glares at Kris. "Not unless you can come up with a satisfactory explanation on why you disappeared for almost a month without notifying management."

When Kris falls silent, his gaze fixed steadily on the trees outside the window across him, Baekhyun sighs. "Look Kris, this isn't some place that you can just walk into when you feel like it and leave when you're out of it."

Kris rolls his eyes and keeps his hands folded across his chest, staying silent nonetheless. Baekhyun seems to take this as an approval on his part as he chirps, “All in favor, hands up!"

There’s silence in the room, once again, before Lu Han hesitantly raises his hand, followed suit by Sehun. Kris’s fingers tighten around the wooden handles of his chair and he shoots Chanyeol a glare. If anything, Chanyeol respects him way more than the caramel-headed deer and the attitude kid, he would never-

“Looks like the majority’s in favor!” Baekhyun exclaims happily, clasping his hands tightly, while he bounces lightly on the spot.

Kris grits his teeth and glares daggers at Chanyeol’s right hand, raised so timidly that it could have been easily passed off as him trying to catch a fly. He falls back in his chair and tries to even out his breathing, fingers pressing roughly against his forehead as he tries to massage away an impending headache.

“Excellent! Try-outs will commence tomorrow and I’ll inform you again of the final candidate!”

Beside him, Lu Han whispers excitedly to Sehun, bouncing in his seat at the thought of having a new face to push around, totally oblivious to the dark stares Kris is shooting in his direction.

“Look on the bright side?” Chanyeol attempts, while he pokes Kris’s right arm miserably. “You won’t have to sing half as much with a new vocalist around, so it’ll strain your vocals less.”

“And you think just anyone can pull off my songs? Lu Han was supposed to be second vocalist but why do you think he’s stuck doing harmonisation instead?” Kris snaps, brushing Chanyeol’s fingers off his leather jacket.

Chanyeol contemplates this for a moment, before he snaps his fingers and exclaims, “Maybe he can write his own songs so it won’t be a concern!”

If looks could kill, Chanyeol would have been skinned alive and deep fried like a potato wedge.

♫

“Hey, we’re out to relax tonight but it doesn’t mean you should get yourself shit-faced drunk,” Jongdae muses, as he watches Kris down his fourth shot.

“Why didn’t you stop me from starting up a band? I could be free and loaded like you,” Kris laughs bitterly, falling back into the soft velvet cushions around him.

Jongdae clicks his tongue and hums a soft tune under his breath. “Not everything is rainbow and sparkles for me either, Kris. Nobody’s really free or rolling in riches in our line, I thought you knew better.”

Kris scoffs and reaches for another shot, only to have Jongdae rapping at his knuckles - a warning before he starts shrilling in that voice which annoys Kris to no extent. So Kris relents, drops his hand and revels in the low bass booming from the speaker next to their booth.

“What if,” he begins abruptly and Jongdae casts a glance over at him with mild interest. “What if, I hate him?”

“Then you’ll learn, you’ll learn to love him.”

♫

It barely even fazes Kris when Baekhyun walks in two days later, before their band practice starts. A small guy, not too much taller than Baekhyun, follows closely behind, his long, black fringe falling into his eyes, an acoustic guitar slung across his back.

“Gather please,” Baekhyun announces, setting down four cups of coffee on the table, while he takes a sip out of his own cup. “Let me introduce your newest member. He’s Zhang Yixing and he -”

“I want to hear you sing,” Kris deadpans, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

Baekhyun frowns a little at that, the corners of his lips tugged down. “Kris, it’s ass o'clock and you’re going to make him sing?”

“If he doesn’t even sound as good as Lu Han, there’s no way he’s going to pull off anything,” Kris snaps, staring down at Baekhyun.

“Duizhang, why don’t you -”

Kris puts his hand out before Lu Han and Lu Han falls silent, his eyes trained on the ground. “Sing.”

Zhang Yixing looks a little fazed, his pupils blown as he swallows hard and opens his mouth. There’s a slight tremor in his voice as he sings, his eyes trained on a spot behind Kris’s head. And Kris is not exactly surprised, because Baekhyun’s always had high standards, but he’s still rendered speechless nonetheless.

“To your satisfaction, Kris?” Baekhyun asks, his lips pressed into a tight line, when Yixing’s done singing, his small frame shaking slightly.

Kris narrows his eyes at Baekhyun and turns on his heel, picking up his electric guitar from its resting spot, against the wall, for fine-tuning. Yixing visibly relaxes as Chanyeol gives him a firm handshake and a hard clap on the back.

“Hey, I’m Chanyeol, the drummer.” He grins at Yixing, who smiles back at him timidly. “That’s Lu Han, our keyboardist. And the one with the platinum blonde hair is Sehun, our bassist.”

“The dick who just told you to sing is our guitarist cum soloist cum the worst leader on Earth,” Sehun supplies helpfully as he waves a hand at Yixing.

Kris rolls his eyes and flings a guitar pick at Sehun, who growls in response and mumbles some baseless threats about cutting all the strings on Kris’s guitar when Kris is fast asleep.

“I’ll leave him in your care then,” Baekhyun beams at Chanyeol and ruffles his noodle-like hair for a couple of seconds, before exiting the room.

Lu Han’s eyes are bright as he bounces slightly next to Yixing, pointing at various parts of their room, explanations falling from his lips.

Kris grimaces slightly as he exerts too much strength twisting the tuning knob and his guitar string snaps, burning a deep red line into the back of his hand. He chews on his bottom lip, hard, and glances up, his stomach twisting into tight knots when he sees his members’ backs facing him, oblivious to the bright wound etched on his hand.

If he knew this was what him coming back would spin-off to, Kris would have gladly stayed in Canada.

♫

“Say it,” Lu Han mumbles, as he nudges Kris in the ribs the moment Yixing walks into the room, balancing four cups of coffee in his hands.

Kris rolls his eyes and says, instead, “You’re hired to be a guitarist cum singer, not a clown, so you can cut the balancing act.”

Yixing looks slightly bewildered as he sets his guitar down and scrambles towards them. “Um,” he starts. “Strawberry cheesecake frappuccino for Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol raises both eyebrows, but accepts the bubblegum-colored drink, exclaiming happily on Kris's behalf, “Welcome to your first band practice!”

It earns him a small smile from Yixing, and Kris notices the small dimple in his cheek, as he nods at Chanyeol and scurries over to Sehun. “Java chip for the maknae.”

Sehun’s eyes light up as he bounces lightly on the spot, a bright smile toying his lips. “You bought me coffee!” He chirps, suddenly devoid of his mono-expression. “You’re officially my favourite hyung!”

This seems to please Yixing a little, his eyes disappearing into small crescents, before he makes his way over to Lu Han. “Caramel macchiato for Lu Han-ge.”

Lu Han accepts the drink and takes a long sip, exclaiming loudly, “Look, Yixing got us drinks. Isn’t that just the sweetest?”

Kris chooses politely to ignore him, fingers still tight on the tuning knobs.

Yixing will never get his favourite drink right, because he’s not insanely predictable like the other three. Besides, no one’s ever gotten his favourite drink right. Not even Chanyeol. And they get coffee together every morning.

“Um, Americano for you, Kris-ge?”

Kris’s fingers halt momentarily on the tuning knobs, his eyes flitting up to the timid figure just hovering a few meters away from him. He bites back the amazement and glances back down at his guitar. “Just leave it on the table.”

Yixing visibly relaxes, as he nods and scrambles off.

Sehun slides into the seat beside him, tongue darting out to lick the brown off his lips, as he muses aloud, “Looks like he did his research.”

“It’s just a drink, Sehun,” Kris responds, with a gentle roll of his eyes. “It’s barely anything to be amazed about.”

“Whatever you say, duizhang,” Sehun hums and shrugs, although Kris doesn’t miss the skepticism in his tone.

Kris leaves the coffee on the table, untouched, until Lu Han declares it to be undrinkable and dumps it in the trash, only to be met with Yixing’s sad puppy eyes.

♫

They’ve barely started practice for five minutes before they hear loud banging against the door and Chanyeol sighs dramatically.

“Can’t you idiots practice at normal times? For fuck’s sake, it’s seven in the morning and some of us would actually like to get some sleep!”

Yixing’s eyes widen in shock as his hands still on the guitar strings. Sehun sets his bass down and swings open their garage door to face a very enraged and half-awake Kim Jongin.

“Why don’t you just sound proof your house,” Chanyeol quips, and Kris can see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes, smiling sweetly instead.

Jongin pushes past Sehun, arms crossed over his chest. “I could call the police and sue you guys for noise pollution.”

Kris raises an eyebrow at Chanyeol, settle it, he’s your neighbour, and sighs, adjusting the tuning knobs on his guitar further.

When Chanyeol had suggested using the garage at his house as their practice room during pre-debut days, he had failed to mention that he has an annoying, good-looking prick as a neighbour. Said neighbour is a smart ass who has no appreciation whatsoever for rock music, as Lu Han had once put across snidely, only to be met with a growl from Sehun.

“Now, now, Jongin,” Chanyeol starts, gently resting an arm around Jongin’s shoulders. “We’ve been down this path many times. I thought we would have reached the point of mutual understanding by now.”

Jongin blinks at him coolly and brushes his arm off. “If we had reached that point, you guys would practice at Earthly hours and you would stop touching me.”

Chanyeol gapes for a few seconds at Jongin and Kris catches Lu Han stifling laughter behind his hand. It’s not often that Chanyeol’s charms are rendered useless.

“Now, now, Jongin,” Chanyeol tries again, unfazed by Jongin’s narrowed eyes. “I’m sure there’s something you want from us and -”

“Bribery gets you nowhere, I’m not one of your pathetic fans,” Jongin deadpans, while he rolls his eyes dramatically. “And you can’t give me what I want most from your band, Chanyeol.”

He turns on his heel and stomps out, casually brushing past Sehun, who’s still standing frozen at the door. Chanyeol scratches his head in confusion and shoots a look at Kris, who just shrugs in response. Hey, whatever gets rid of the pest.

“Good morning,” Sehun attempts weakly, a small, almost nervous smile playing his lips, as he gives Jongin a small wave.

A look of surprise passes Jongin’s face, his eyes softening slightly, before it’s replaced again with his usual steely look. “It would have been a good one if I didn’t have to march in here.”

There’s no real venom in his voice, but it doesn’t stop Sehun from wilting pathetically once he’s gone, and Kris wishes, that they could both stop being so fucking blind.

♫

“I want you guys to get new hairstyles! New wardrobes! New everything!” Baekhyun exclaims happily, as they trudge into the newly opened salon, just down the street from their apartment.

Kris makes a face and mutters under his breath, “Why not get a new leader too, while you’re at it?”

If Baekhyun hears him, he doesn’t give any indication, and continues, “I want EXO to have a brand new look. I want fans and non-fans to look at you guys and fall in love all over again!”

Lu Han raises both eyebrows and leans towards Sehun, whispering something behind his hand that has Sehun giggling like a little school kid, while Kris rolls his eyes. Baekhyun’s been a little sugar-high lately. Too much pressure from management to make sure their first appearance with Yixing would be well-received.

“It’s probably not that bad,” Chanyeol tries with a small grin, as he stares at the neon lights on the salon sign looming ahead of them.

Except, they should have trust their instincts that this place isn’t sane, from the bright neon lights to the baozi-looking stylist, Minseok.

Kris, regretfully, only realises that when he looks into the mirror and realises that more than half of his hair has been chopped off, and the remaining half has been dyed black. He bites back the urge to scream and forces a smile at Minseok, who simply brushes him off and bounces back to finish off Lu Han’s hair.

He spins his chair around and stares up at Baekhyun, who’s chewing on his lower lip, brushing wine red bangs out of his eyes. “It just takes getting used to!” Baekhyun attempts, smiling encouragingly.

Next to him, there’s a slight shriek and Kris turns, just in time to see Sehun bury his face in his hands. Kris blinks a couple of times, a small smile spreading across his face as he muses, “Well, at least I’m not the one who looks like I fell into a chalk bin.”

“Shut up,” Sehun hisses, without lifting his face from his hands, while Baekhyun pats his head sympathetically, cooing softly.

Yixing watches, in slight horror, from the sofa and Kris shoots him a glare when he catches his eye in the mirror. This is all your fault. Yixing simply smiles and waves a little in return, much to his annoyance.

He’s distracted momentarily but a sudden eruption of laughter, as Chanyeol walks towards them, his hair cropped and surprisingly straight. He’s clutching his stomach, eyes squeezed shut, a slightly sullen Lu Han trailing weakly behind him. Kris raises both his eyebrows and decides it is a wise idea to keep his mouth shut when Lu Han shoots him a death stare.

“If you say I look like Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls, I will end you,” Lu Han threatens, as he sinks into the sofa next to Yixing.

Sehun momentarily pauses in his drama queen act and glances up, blinks twice, before sinking his face back into his hands and wailing loudly. Baekhyun looks torn between staying by Sehun’s side to reassure him that no, he doesn’t look like a rainbow bitch and floating over to Lu Han to comfort him that yes, bubblegum pink is a totally hot color.

“I think you look nice,” comes Yixing’s soft voice, from his right, and Kris fights the urge to jump in surprise.

“Flattery,” Kris deadpans. “Gets you nowhere.”

Yixing pouts a little and scoots a little closer to Kris, his voice just barely above a whisper next to Kris’s ear. “I think it makes you look manlier. Cooler. I kind of like it, a lot.”

“Since when was your opinion valuable,” Kris spits, trying to stop that small spark of happiness from filling up the space in his heart.

Yixing’s shoulders visibly droop a little and he scurries back to Lu Han’s side, poking at Lu Han’s cheeks until Lu Han gives up and breaks into a small grin.

Yeah, that’s it. He’s just trying to get into everyone’s good books because he knows it’s his fault that we’re all miserable, Kris reasons with himself. He’s definitely not special. And Yixing’s approval absolutely did not make his heart soar. Not even a little.

♫

It becomes somewhat of a pattern, one that Lu Han spends a lot of time snickering about with Sehun.

Yixing tries to do something for their band. He screws it up. Kris gets insanely mad but cleans up for him anyway. Rinse and repeat.

So, it comes as a surprise to all of them when Kris just rolls his eyes as Yixing timidly reports his latest mistake, before making a few phone calls to settle it.

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow at Kris and Kris shifts uncomfortably in his seat, before snapping hotly, “What? Stop staring at me like that. It makes you creepier than usual.”

“What happened to the hell as long lecture, that’s what I want to know.”

Kris sighs and drops his phone on the space between them. “Look, his heart’s in the right place, alright? And I appreciate the effort, I guess.”

The shit-eating grin Chanyeol shoots him almost makes Kris want to gather up his words and stuff them back down his throat. “It doesn’t change anything,” he finishes with a wave of his hand.

“Sure,” Chanyeol replies way too quickly, waggling his eyebrows in glee.

Kris is glad that he has impeccable aim, as Chanyeol doubles over and whines loudly, when the cushion that used to be on their chair hits him square in the face.

♫

No new messages.

Kris blinks back tears and flings his phone to the ground, curling up a little as he stares at the stars. “Is it so hard to just let me know he’s still alive?” Kris exclaims aloud.

He squeezes his eyes shut and lets the night breeze whip through his hair. Even in the darkness, he can see his mother, curled up on the sofa in the dark, palms pressed to her eyes in a weak attempt to stop the tears from flowing.

“It’s been five years,” he continues, opening his eyes and keeping his gaze fixed on the brightest star in the sky. “Would a ‘I miss you too, son’ kill him?”

The stars just blink at him in return.

A can of Coke appears before him, and Kris glances up to see Yixing chewing on his lower lip. “Because it’s too late for Americano,” Yixing says abruptly, as though that’s the most important question Kris has on his mind right now.

Kris blinks and looks away, his hand wiping away any tear remnants carelessly. Yixing settles down on the grass beside him, pulling his legs close to his body silently.

“How did you find me?” Kris asks, several moments later.

Yixing shrugs in response, and sets the can of Coke down on the ground between them, his eyes averting Kris’s. Kris picks up the Coke, rests it lightly in his palm for a moment, and answers, “It’s late, you shouldn’t be out here. Go home, Yixing.”

“I won’t say anything,” Yixing blurts out, and Kris stares at him in slight confusion. “I. Just. Please just let me stay by your side. I can’t sleep knowing that you’re not alright.”

The can in Kris’s hand almost slips, and Kris sighs, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at Yixing’s words. Yixing continues, his eyes downcast and his hands trembling. “You shouldn’t be alone when you’re upset. Negativity will consume you.”

“I’m fine,” Kris insists. “Look, this is just a day that I have to walk through every year. The others have stopped caring and -”

“Just because they don’t care, doesn’t mean that I can’t,” Yixing exclaims, his eyes meeting Kris’s. “And that’s just how I am. I’m annoying and I don’t know how to draw boundaries and you’re going to have to live with that tonight.”

If this had been any other night, one where Kris isn’t feeling particularly lonely and cracking at the edges, he would have turned on his heel and walked off.

Instead, Kris lets Yixing curl his fingers around his wrist, and he doesn’t even fight it when Yixing pulls him to his feet. He just keeps his eyes fixed on Yixing’s back, and he thinks, maybe, just maybe, tonight won’t be such a long night after all.

♫

The stars look beautiful tonight. Even more so when they’re framed by sprays of blues and greens.

Kris only realises that when they come to a halt at Banpo Bridge. Yixing turns to him and throws him an easy smile. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The fountain’s even more stunning at night.”

He nods, his eyes fixed on the scene before him, as he tugs the cap on his head lower. Kris closes his eyes, a melody playing in his head, accompanied by the soft splashing of water.

And in that moment, Kris thinks, he almost sees another world. A world where he’s happy. A world where there are no sad endings. A world... that he wouldn’t mind living in.

It isn’t until he feels a thumb rubbing over the back of his hand, does Kris press a palm to his eyes, wiping away tear streaks hastily. The warmth around his hand has never felt more comforting. So Kris lets Yixing rub circles against his hand, as they watch the medley of colours spraying into the night sky before them.

“Why?” Kris asks, his gaze fixed carefully on the steps he’s taking instead of Yixing. "Why do you bother with me?"

Yixing turns to him and tilts his head slightly. “Have you heard of the North Star?”

Kris raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly, unsure of where the conversation’s headed to. Yixing smiles at him and continues, “You’re like EXO’s North Star, always leading us in the right direction when we’re lost or we’ve wandered too far from home.”

His breath catches, and Kris averts Yixing’s eyes carefully, willing his heart to slow the hell down. Yixing rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, but presses on anyway, “And I was hoping, that for once, I could do something right and lead you back to us, instead.”

A dull hum falls between them, filled only by the roaring engines of cars speeding past them.

“Thank you,” Kris says finally.

Yixing’s eyes widen as he holds his hands out before him, shaking them from side to side. “It’s nothing, really! I just hope you’re feeling better.”

“This,” Kris begins, pausing a little to catch his breath. “Has probably been the noisiest night I’ve had for a long time.”

Yixing’s shoulders droop a little and he opens his mouth, most possibly to apologise, but Kris stops him, holding out a hand between them. “Thank you, Zhang Yixing, for making this long night pass by so quickly.”

He thinks, he will probably fall asleep with Yixing’s brilliant smile burned into his dreams that night, but Kris shakes the thought from his head and lets Yixing lead him back to the dorm instead.

♫

Kris leans back into the plush cushions around him, downing another shot as he watches this new guy - what’s his name again? Joonmyeon? - take the stage with a slow number. He’s not half bad, and Kris considers recruiting him into their band if he could play the keyboard. Stupid deer needs to learn his place before Kris replaces him.

Next to him, Jongdae pours him another glass of whisky and raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure you didn’t ask me out just so I can be your bartender,” Jongdae snipes mildly.

Kris looks at the glass in his hand and gives it a swirl, ignoring the orange liquid that spills onto his fingers. Jongdae sighs dramatically and turns his attention back to Joonmyeon while he takes small sips out of his shot glass.

“He,” Kris begins abruptly, and Jongdae tears his eyes away from Joonmyeon long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. “Doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Is that so?”

Kris turns to Jongdae and frowns. “Why is it that you always doubt me at times when I’m trying to have an honest confession?”

“Because it’s out of character, for you. You hate people coming in to disrupt the path that you’ve spent time and energy paving out,” Jongdae answers simply, raising his shot glass a little at Kris, almost like he’s proving a point.

Kris shrugs and downs the shot. “He’s... different. He notices things that Chanyeol misses and things that Lu Han can’t be bothered to give a fuck with. And he tries. He tries really hard to do things right, even though he ends up screwing a lot of it up and I have to clean up his mess in the end.”

He pauses abruptly, suddenly self-concious under Jongdae’s eyes, clear and focused on him. “Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbles, fidgeting in his seat uncomfortably.

Jongdae hums lightly in response and turns his gaze back to Joonmyeon. And Kris almost assumes that the topic has been dropped and done with, until Jongdae responds, his gaze unwavering on Joonmyeon, “You know, it was just a figure of speech when I told you to learn to love him.”

“I,” Kris sputters indignantly, because this is Jongdae of all people. “I’m not in love with him.”

“Sure,” Jongdae shrugs. “What was that saying in Chinese that you’re always preaching to me? Oh right, a third party sees it clearer.”

Kris opts to ignore Jongdae, reaching for the bottle of whisky and pouring himself another shot. He pretends that the small pool of whisky dripping onto the table instead of into his shot glass is a result of the alcohol pooling in his blood, and not the trembling of his hands.

He doesn’t love Zhang Yixing. Jongdae’s clearly had too much to drink for the night.

Kris thinks, after repeating this in his mind for the rest of the night until they’re shooed out of the club by the owner, that he just might believe it.

♫

“You’re actually crazy,” Sehun says, his face void of emotion, as he stares at the field before them.

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose a little and quips, “Come on, it’ll be fun! And you’ll be remembered as the group with the coolest promotion techniques.”

“What does this have to do with promoting our new album?” Kris snaps, his arms crossed over his chest. “Or introducing Yixing to the public for the first time?”

“I don’t know, it looked cool when they did it in Those Years, so stop being a bitch and just do it. The reporters have already gathered around anyway,” Baekhyun answers, dropping his smile and fixing Kris with that stare.

Kris sighs and follows the others out onto the field, sparing a quick glance at the small glimpses of sunlight that has yet to disappear behind the mountains.

Somehow, he ends up sharing a lantern with Yixing and Kris spends more than half of the time stealing glances at Yixing’s face, scrunched up with concentration as he writes on the lantern with his paintbrush. It’s only when Baekhyun lets out a pleased sound, accompanied by Chanyeol’s loud clapping, does Kris realise that his side of the lantern is still half-empty and he curses inwardly, scribbling more wishes onto the lantern hastily.

“What did you wish for, Kris-ge?” Yixing asks, trying to steal a glance at Kris’s scrawly handwriting, over his shoulder.

“Secret,” Kris replies, his eyes still focused on filling up the empty spaces with more wishes. “Wishes won’t come true if you go around announcing them.”

A small pout forms on Yixing’s lips, but he doesn’t press on, and shuffles back to his side of the lantern.

Kris laughs a little, and takes a step back, examining his work. Maybe Baekhyun’s idea wasn’t so insane after all. If anything, it lets Kris express himself with words that he usually keeps buried in his heart.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lu Han grins at them, when the reporters have dispersed, whispering excitedly amongst themselves about the headlines that will hit the local papers the following day. “And now we have a hell awesome after-party to go to!”

Kris shrugs a little, casting a small backward glance at the lanterns they’ve released into the air moments ago, watching them slowly disappear into the horizon.

Thank you for giving me a second chance.

Thank you for giving me EXO.

Thank you for bringing Zhang Yixing into my life.

♫

“Ah, you’re up here.”

Kris glances up from the glass he’s holding in his hand, before relaxing a little as he sees Yixing walking towards him. He shrugs and gives Yixing a wan smile when Yixing pauses next to him, his hands clutching the handrail before them, staring down at the bright city lights before them.

He’s never been much of a party person, and Chanyeol usually has his back when Kris gets tired of the party scene, opting to sneak off to the roof for some time to clear his thoughts instead.

“It’s always a good idea to leave when Lu Han gets near alcohol. Experience tells me nothing good happens,” Kris hums, laughing a little under his breath.

Yixing’s eyes are a little glassy, his cheeks are slightly red and his smile a little lopsided, as he laughs and waves off Kris with a hand. “Yeah, he was going on about how pretty some of the reporters were and other stuff like that when I went off.”

Typical Lu Han, Kris muses as he laughs into the back of his hand and marvels in the way Yixing laughs along with him, his eyes twinkling as brightly as the stars surrounding them.

“Is this what it’s like to be famous?” Yixing asks, his eyes focused on the bustling streets laid out before them. “Getting shit-faced drunk at after parties while celebrating?”

“I won’t deny that it makes up a big proportion of stardom,” Kris laughs, eyebrows raised in slight amusement at Yixing’s bluntness. “But it’s the fans, the music, and the people you meet along the way that makes this crazy journey more worthwhile.”

Silence ensues, and Kris fidgets uncomfortably, stealing a small glance at Yixing, who’s staring straight ahead, his brows creased in concentration. He takes a seat, for the lack of anything to do, legs sprawled out on the cement before him, and pats the ground beside him absently. Yixing sits down slowly, his knees quaking a little at the effort, before he leans back on his palms.

“I don’t believe it, you know,” Yixing announces abruptly. “The things they say about you in the tabloids.”

Kris forces a laugh, and Yixing glances over at him, amending quickly. “I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about lately and I just wanted you to know. But it was still rude of me, I’m sorry.”

“But it’s true,” Kris mutters, inhaling deeply as he stares up at the night sky, aware that Yixing’s wide eyes are now fixated solely on him. “I ran away because I was afraid. This -” he makes a rough gesture with his hand. “Isn’t going to last forever, I’m aware of that. And I rather leave it all behind before I’m left behind.”

When he doesn’t get a response, Kris keeps his gaze on the brightest star in the sky, something he can never hope to become, and laughs drily. “Selfish of me, isn’t it?”

He chances a quick glance at Yixing, slightly surprised to see that there isn’t a look of disgust or disappointment, like he’d expected. Instead, all he sees is a look of empathy, as Yixing reaches for his hand, and this time, Kris doesn’t pull away.

“Everyone’s afraid at one point or another. It’s alright to take a break, just as long as you remember to come back when you’re feeling better.”

Yixing’s fingers are warm on his palm, tracing random patterns into it, his eyes downcast. And Kris allows himself to relax into the touch, allows his hand to close up into a fist, squeezing Yixing’s hand tightly as he manages a smile.

He turns his attention back to the sky, watching the stars twinkle before him and wondering silently which one resembles Yixing the most.

It isn’t until he sees Yixing’s head drooping, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth, does Kris realise how late it is and how worried the others must be about them. He tries to shake Yixing awake lightly, pausing when he notices the dark eye rings around Yixing’s eyes which hadn’t been there when they’d first met.

Kris brushes a thumb across them lightly, and scoots over a little, letting Yixing’s head fall against his shoulder instead. “Let me do something for you in return this time,” he whispers as he silently drapes his leather jacket over Yixing’s limp frame.

He falls asleep that night, watching the slow rise and fall of Yixing’s chest, and waiting for his heartbeat to fall into synchronisation.

♫

“You look like shit,” is not what Kris expects to hear early in the morning, much less from Kim Jongin.

Jongin’s leaning against the door frame of their practice room, amusement colouring his tone as he gives Kris a once-through, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “You look like shit,” he repeats, several seconds later, with a nod.

“I heard you the first time,” Kris snaps, massaging his temples; he’s having a terrible headache and he’s in no mood to listen to Jongin’s snide.

Jongin fidgets around awkwardly, and Kris sighs, setting his guitar on the ground. It’s too early for him to deal with rude brats. “I doubt you’re here just to criticise my hair. What do you really want, Jongin?”

There’s a lot more fidgeting, on Jongin’s part, as he twirls his hands, before he gives up and flops on the seat next to Kris. “Are you guys having practice today?”

“No, I’m just here because I love Chanyeol’s garage much more than my own bed.”

Jongin puffs out his cheeks, before allowing his shoulders to droop sadly. Kris chews on his bottom lip and amends, “Yes, we’re having practice, but I came in too early and Chanyeol’s still sleeping.”

When Jongin doesn’t reply, eyes downcast on his phone, Kris nudges him slightly. “What’s wrong? I’m not used to a depressed Jongin.”

“I,” Jongin begins awkwardly, fumbling around with the charm on his phone. “I texted Sehun a while back but he hasn’t replied me and I’m just. I don’t know if I did something wrong or anything.”

Kris bites back a laugh and Jongin scowls in return. “Forget I said anything,” he snaps and gets to his feet.

“Sehun’s been wilting lately,” Kris calls out, when Jongin’s almost at the door.

Jongin freezes, throwing Kris a small glance and Kris smiles.

Young love has always been cute.

♫

It really shouldn’t come as any surprise, considering how obvious things had been.

Nonetheless, Kris finds himself frozen to the spot when he pushes open the door to their practice room to find Jongin pinned against their dark walls, Sehun’s tongue halfway down his throat. And he’s pretty sure Jongin’s rubbing the crotches of their jeans together.

That’s one image he could have lived without ever seeing.

It’s all Yixing’s fault, is the first thing that fills Kris’s mind. Definitely. Because he is a really observant person and he wouldn’t have not known this, had he not been so distracted with Yixing and his stupidity and his stupid smile which is not charming at all.

There’s a small gasp beside him and Kris manages to tear his eyes away from the disgusting couple long enough to raise an eyebrow at a gaping Yixing. “Rare of you to be on time, much less early.”

Yixing shoots him a look and yanks Kris’s guitar out of his hand, setting it on the ground with his own. “Let’s get out of here. It’s going to get awkward as hell when they’re done and they see us.”

Kris stays rooted to the spot, ignoring Yixing’s gestures of going out the door behind them, his mind suddenly filled with images. What if he presses Yixing against the opposite wall. What if he proceeds to kiss the breath out of Yixing. What if Yixing actually kisses back. What if.

“Come on,” Yixing tries again, his hand finding Kris’s, before giving it a hard tug and dragging Kris out of the door.

It isn’t until they’re a few kilometers away from their practice room, the wind wisping through Kris’s badly-dyed strands, does Kris realise the warmth still pressing against his right hand. Yixing seems oblivious to it, laughter falling from his lips as he muses over the weird scene they just witnessed, his cheeks tinted a light pink from the chilly Autumn air.

“Yixing,” Kris finally manages, when they finally slow down and he manages to catch his breath.

There’s a look of amusement, before it turns into shock mixed with embarrassment and Yixing finally lets go and takes a few steps back. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that happened and I -”

“Watch it!”

Kris yanks on his outstretched hand, pulling Yixing back to him as a bicycle speeds past, Yixing’s heartbeat at his fingertips. And Kris tries to remember how to breathe.

“Thanks,” Yixing mutters, his face a little too close for comfort, and Kris muses for a second what would happen if he were to push fingers under Yixing’s jaw and tilt it upwards and -

“Are we interrupting something?”

Chanyeol’s voice, too bright for someone who’s supposedly embarrassed for walking in on an intimate moment, coupled with the knowing look that Lu Han’s shooting Kris with a slight waggle of his eyebrows, is enough for Kris to pull back and rap Yixing’s head with his knuckles. “Idiot, stop getting into accidents and causing trouble for me,” he mutters half-heartedly.

A look of confusion crosses Yixing’s face briefly, before it is replaced with his usual blank stare and his child-like smile. “Sorry, duizhang.”

Kris grunts a little in acknowledgement, before smoothing out the creases in his leather jacket and striding back to their practice room, with a quick glance at his watch. They’re officially two minutes late, which means Sehun should have already detached his lips from Jongin’s.

“I don’t see why you bother,” Lu Han hums gently, as he catches up with Kris’s quick strides.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

This earns him a light pat on the back from Lu Han, along with a roll of eyes. “Whatever floats your boat. But you’re fooling no one, duizhang.”

“Why don’t you channel the energy you use to spout nonsense into harmonising on key instead?” Kris snaps, as he brushes Lu Han’s hand off his back.

“You’re not even fooling yourself.” Lu Han’s face is devoid of its usual smile, as he ducks into the practice room, leaving Kris rooted to the spot amidst falling orange-brown leaves.

♫

He hears it before he sees anything. He hears the soft clinking of keys, a familiar melody falling off them, fused with Yixing’s melodious laugh.

Kris freezes, he’s supposed to be practising with Yixing, not Lu Han. And they’re not supposed to be having so much fun. Yixing’s not supposed to be laughing, hand warm on Lu Han’s thigh as Lu Han frowns at the piano score before him. No. No. No.

“Let’s try again, from the top,” Lu Han announces, just as Kris grips the door knob. “No goofing off this time round.”

The music that follows in the seconds that Kris spends contemplating on whether he should enter the room is enough for him to lose his grip on the knob. If Yixing sounded amazing back then when Kris first heard him sing in the recording studio, he sounds mind-blowing right now, his tenor voice a perfect blend with Lu Han’s light tone.

Kris leans against the door frame, his eyes fluttering shut as he listens and pictures images, more beautiful than what he had in mind when he first wrote the song.

The song ends way too fast, and Kris reluctantly pushes himself off the door frame, casting a casual glance into the room. Yixing looks ecstatic, his eyes bright with mirth as he blabbers on excitedly to Lu Han.

Idiot, he should be practicing with me. I’m the one who wrote the song, I would know what’s required better than Blossom.

Lu Han catches Kris’s eye and Kris takes a moment too long to glance away, before he turns on his heel and walks off.

“Hey!” Lu Han skids to a halt next to him, a hand tight around his arm. “You’re late! Yixing’s been waiting for you.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“Why is he waiting for me?” Kris finally asks, casting a small backward glance at a slightly bemused Lu Han. “He has you to practice with him, doesn’t he?”

A look of confusion crosses Lu Han’s face, before he’s frowning and shaking Kris’s arm back and forth. “What are you talking about? You should be practicing with him. You’re the songwriter, you’ll know better what -”

“I’m glad,” Kris starts, harshly extracting his arm from Lu Han’s vice-like grip. “That at least one person in that room is aware of this.”

And he turns on his heel, ignoring the bright look of panic that’s painted on Yixing’s face as he skids to a halt before them and the words Lu Han left unsaid.

You’re a childish prick, Kris Wu.

♫

Kris huffs in frustration as he balls up the music sheet before him and delivers a lousily-aimed throw at the bin.

Betrayal. Heartbreak. Shattered dreams. It needs to stop. He needs to stop. He’s supposed to be writing a love song - a happy and hopeful one, as Baekhyun had emphasised while calling him a sadistic creep - not this, whatever this is.

“The minute my heart skips a beat, Love starts to turn tragic.”

“Go away,” Kris hisses, his eyes still downcast on the fresh manuscript sprawled out before him. “Didn’t you see the sign on the door? It says ‘Get Lost’ for a reason, you brat.”

The manuscript disappears from before him, landing softly on the ground as Sehun leans against his wooden desk, his hand devoid of his phone for once.

“What,” Kris grits out, once he’s figured out that glaring does nothing to Oh Sehun.

“Just tell him,” Sehun replies simply.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Oh Sebrat.”

Sehun rolls his eyes and props himself up on the table, ignoring Kris’s protests that he’s going to break the table with his ass - skinny bitch can’t break anything. “I’m trying to give you genuine advice here, duizhang. So can you please stop being an asshole and listen because it isn’t often that I would bother with you or your girly mood swings.”

“I don’t -” Kris sighs and snaps his jaw shut at Sehun’s raised eyebrow.

“Thank you,” Sehun continues with an exaggerated wave. “You know what you look like right now?”

There’s a dramatic pause and Kris sighs. Kids these days. “Enlighten me.”

“You look like me back when I thought Jongin likes Chanyeol. Unhappy. Lonely. Pathetic. Use-”

“I think I get it,” Kris interrupts drily.

Sehun blinks a couple of times at him and drops the hand he’s gesturing wildly with, before folding his arms across his chest and rolling his eyes. “My point is, just tell him. You’ll never know what comes out of it.”

“So you want me to just go up to him and spit it into his face?”

“No!” Sehun exclaims, throwing his hands up and whacking Kris’s pen out of his hand. “Write him a song or something. You’re a musician for Christ’s sake, do it musically, please.”

“Was that how you won Jongin over?” Kris challenges, raising an eyebrow as Sehun turns a bright shade of red.

Sehun nearly falls off the table in shock, as he sputters indignantly, “Why are we suddenly talking about this?”

“Inspire me,” Kris teases, biting back rising laughter. “You need to give me an example to strengthen your point.”

“I. You,” Sehun starts, before running fingers through his multi-colored bangs and sighing. “I was kinda grumbling to myself about my hair while tuning my bass before practice. And he happened to be passing by, so he overheard and told me it looks good on me. And yeah, I kinda blurted it out somewhere in the conversation.”

“So did the confession get you any ass?” Kris muses, enjoying the way Sehun is fidgeting with his fingers way too much, his gaze cast on every object in the room, save for Kris.

Sehun looks up abruptly and folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah, and it was mind-blowingly amazing. Are you jealous?”

Kris wrinkles his nose in disgust and shoos Sehun away, despite Sehun’s protests that he at least deserves bubble tea for all the ‘help’ he’s given. He stares down at the blank manuscript instead and starts writing, writing the words he’s kept bottled up for way too long.

It isn’t until he’s lying in bed, the music sheet filled with a multitude of notes lying on his wooden desk, that Kris realises that he’s finally admitted it.

And to Oh Sehun of all people.

He’s never going to live this down.

♫

“I wrote a song for you.”

Yixing glances up, his hands stilling on his acoustic guitar to reach up to brush his long bangs out of his eyes. He frowns a little and asks, “Aren’t you going to sing it too? I’m not here to steal your spot, ge.”

“I know,” Kris huffs in slight annoyance, as he reaches into his bag for the music sheets. “But you’re new and you deserve a solo as well. Maybe we can get Lu Han to harmonise or something, you guys sound good together.”

Yixing’s on his feet in a split second, fingers pressing creases into Kris’s jacket. “I’m sorry, duizhang. You know I respect you and I like singing with you, please don’t be mad anymore -”

“I’m not angry!” Kris grits out, regretting it almost immediately when Yixing’s hands fall from his jacket and he chews on his lower lip. “Really, I’m not angry.”

“Then sing with me,” Yixing insists defiantly, fingers tightening their hold around Kris’s wrist.

“No!” Kris explodes, yanking his hand out of Yixing’s grasp. “Can you just stop defying me and just sing that solo? At least that way I can pretend that you’re using the damn song to confess to me.”

Yixing’s eyes are wide with shock as it suddenly dawns on Kris what he’s just said, and he moves back, almost instinctively, when Yixing reaches for him again.

There’s a light click behind them and Sehun strolls into the studio, dumping his bag unceremoniously on the ground and raising an eyebrow at them. “Something up?”

“Kris.”

There’s an edge to Yixing’s voice and Kris isn’t nearly ready to deal with the consequences of his idiocy, so he does the only things he’s good at.

He runs. And continues lying to himself.

♫

“It’s really not that funny,” Kris deadpans, as he shells another peanut and watches Jongdae roll around on the velvet sofa, clutching his stomach.

It takes another five minutes before Jongdae straightens, dabbing tears from the corner of his eyes. Kris watches him sullenly, before rejecting another one of Lu Han’s calls - the fourth one that night.

“You know, you’re a real pro at charming MCs on shows and just the audience in general. I don’t get why it’s so hard for you to confess to someone,” Jongdae hums thoughtfully, a finger tapping his chin. “I mean the kid’s seen all your asshole-ness off stage. Nothing you do can scare him off further.”

“Thank you for your affirmation. You’re always a joy to be around, Jongdae.”

“You’re welcome!” Jongdae chirps, as he reaches to pour himself another drink, before taking a small sip. “Seriously though, you don’t throw a song at someone and force him to confess.”

“What was I supposed to do then!” Kris exclaims, throwing his hands out in frustration, almost toppling his own shot glass.

Jongdae rolls his eyes and patiently puts down his glass. “Did it ever occur to you that you should just sing the song to him? Throw in a light confession at the end and viola, you have yourself a fish caught on the hook.”

Kris blinks at Jongdae for a few seconds, before he slaps his own forehead. Jongdae pats his back, in what Kris assumes to be mock sympathy, and pours more alcohol for him.

He spares a glance at the Caller ID of his phone and rejects Chanyeol’s call once again. Screw this shit, he’s going to get shit-face drunk tonight.

♫

“Fuck,” is the first thing that Kris manages to croak out.

He has a pounding headache, his throat feels like it’s rubbed raw and who the hell drew his curtains so that the sun shines on his face? It’s too early for sunlight.

Two pills and a glass of water are shoved under his chin, and Kris takes them gratefully, too tired to even bother looking up at the owner of the hand.

Maybe him fucking up with Yixing had been a dream after all. Yes, that’s it. It’s all been a terrifying nightmare because of his endless nerves and he’s finally waking up from a long dream to -

“Are you alright?”

Maybe not.

When Kris finally forces himself to look up, Yixing’s standing at the edge of his bed, an acoustic guitar in hand, his expression unreadable. He forces himself to swallow the bile rising in his throat and manages a small shrug before nodding.

Yixing moves towards him hesitantly, pausing a few steps away from his bed and answering, eyes downcast, “That’s good.”

“Much as I appreciate you being around, I really just want to sleep this headache off, so can you -”

“I’ll leave,” Yixing starts, much to Kris’s surprise and slight disappointment. “Once I’m done with what I have to say. Or sing.”

“Yixing, I -”

But Yixing’s not even listening, as he picks up his acoustic guitar and glances down at it, gently strumming chords, chords that have been etched into Kris’s memory. And Kris is lost all over again. Lost in questions, in amazement, in the melody filling his ears.

Lost in Yixing, Yixing, Yixing.

He doesn’t even notice when Yixing finishes, too preoccupied staring at the bangs falling in his eyes while he plays. Yixing gently props his guitar against the wall and shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s what you had in mind when you wrote the song, but it’s my interpretation of it.”

“It sounds good,” Kris manages, finally finding his voice and swallowing hard, eyes carefully averting Yixing’s.

He doesn’t look at Yixing until he feels a hand resting lightly upon his, only to notice the close proximity between them; so close that he can count the eyelashes framing Yixing’s eyes. Yixing sits down lightly, on the edge of his bed and smiles at him, almost as if he’s taunting Kris to close the remaining distance between them.

“Good, because I sang it with you in mind.”

And Kris really doesn’t think there’s any pride in him left, because Yixing is so much better at this whole confession shit than he is or ever will be.

But he supposes it’s alright when Yixing leans in, pausing just millimeters away from his lips, daring him to make the move. “Do you really have to annoy me when I’m not feeling well?” He grumbles, and presses his lips against Yixing’s before Yixing can come up with a good retort.

Kris figures, all the countless times he’s imagined kissing Yixing - against the wall, in the car, when they’re changing for an interview - pales in comparison to when it actually happens. He’ll probably never get over the way Yixing’s hand tightens around his arm, pulling him closer, or the way he tilts his head before allowing Kris to stick his tongue down his throat. And he probably won’t forget the electricity jolting through his body when Yixing bites on his lower lip, enough to bruise, or how flushed Yixing’s cheeks look when they finally pull apart.

“Well, I already did the confessing, so you should have some action to reciprocate my words,” Yixing fumbles, minutes later when his breathing has slowed back to its normal rate.

It takes Kris a minute before he realises that Yixing’s giving a belated response to the pre-kiss question, and he makes a face. “You’re borrowing my words and my tune to confess, you asshole.”

“Only because you did a terrible job of it,” Yixing quips, humming lightly under his breath, a playful glint in his eyes. “But it made me really, really happy.”

Kris returns the smile, pulling Yixing back in to proceed to kiss the breath out of him. And he thinks, he just might get used to writing songs only to force Yixing to sing them to him.

♫

Nothing really changes in the band.

Except Yixing clings on to him a whole lot more, and Kris sometimes kisses him in front of Lu Han just to watch Lu Han cringe in annoyance and throw pillows at them.

“God, if I’d known how annoying they would be, I wouldn’t have given Yixing advice when he was drinking soju and crying his eyes out,” Lu Han grumbles, although there’s a small smile playing his lips.

“You did that?” Kris asks, both his eyebrows raised as he casts a downward glance at Yixing, who’s clinging onto his shirt and sinking into the sofa.

“Just shut up and watch the movie,” Yixing mumbles against the cotton of Kris’s shirt, although Kris catches the pink tinting his cheeks.

Kris laughs, but obliges while ruffling Yixing’s hair gently.

So, this may not have been what he hoped for when Baekhyun announced the recruitment of a new member. But Kris thinks, considering how everything had taken a turn for the worst in the past few months, this is an ending he’s pretty satisfied with.

♫

“Ready?” Chanyeol throws Kris a smile, while twirling his drumstick between his fingers.

Kris nods, throws the team a thumbs up, before stifling a laugh and reaching towards Yixing to loosen the tie around his neck. “You’re a guitarist playing in a rock band, not a businessman sealing a deal.”

Yixing smiles back at him sheepishly and adjusts the tuning pegs of his guitar one final time, his shoulders tensing as Lu Han gently shoves him towards the center of the stage, nearer to Kris. “I’ll be here, every step of the way to back you up. So just sing, like you did that day in the recording studio,” Kris whispers, as Yixing’s hand finds his and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Kris tugs his hand out of Yixing’s and turns towards the crowd, just as the curtains part.

Behind him, he can imagine Chanyeol waving one drum stick in the air maniacally, before three familiar wooden taps reach his ears.

And it starts.

Kris knows, even when they’re stepping back onto stage to play their encore, that nothing lasts forever; especially not Fame. Groups rise, groups fall, and more groups rise to take their place.

But then, Yixing catches his eye and throws him a smile, and Kris thinks, everything’s fine again. Because he knows, at the end of this crazy ride, he’ll walk away with the thing that matters most to him.

♫

a/n:
this was supposedly loosely based off you’re beautiful. in my mind, kris is hwang taekyung and yixing is go minam. minus the cross-dressing and stuff. yes.

thanks to both onyu and feixing for reading through this, reassuring me of the plot and correcting my sentence structure/grammar here and there. thanks also for listening to me whine endlessly while writing this fic ;w; you guys laughing mercilessly at my increasing word count will always be remembered and lamented u____u

thanks to hoaegi and euphorias for holding my hand while i was writing this and kinda yelling at me to go and write when i was getting distracted by exo videos. extra credits to shu for helping partially to come up with the title yay :D

special special sparkly thanks to thatdayismine for holding my hand throughout the entire fic writing process and reminding me to write when i get distracted with exo. and happy camp. thank you for constantly encouraging me (i must have been a real pain). knowing that you’re proud of me, regardless of everything going on, is really encouraging ♥ ♥

because you are the stars, the sun, the moon

equalises — Tue, 16 Jul 2013 02:50:04 GMT

because you are the stars, the sun, the moon
1,074w; pg
sehun/baekhyun
summary: sehun is an ulzzang with a huge crush on makeup-senpai, baekhyun. jongin is just hanging around for a good show.
a/n: for feixing because she owes me sebaek. and she understands their dynamics. (and my pain that resulted in his drabble) again, one of those things i'm not cross-posting anywhere because it was written in 20 mins and it's crap.

“are you wearing eyeliner?”

sehun flushes a little and tugs the hood of his jacket lower, trying to shield his eyes from jongin. why did he think it’s a good idea to try out new things when he’s meeting jongin of all people. jongin looks less than impressed as he knocks the hood off sehun’s head in one swift motion and leans across the table. “oh my actual god, you are.”

“shut up,” sehun hisses, and shoves his best friend back into his seat. people are staring and they’re going to be defined as campus weirdos if jongin doesn’t fucking stop laughing.

jongin props his elbows on the table and blinks at sehun cutely. “i thought you merely thought he was hot. are you actually taking his makeup advice?”

“chanyeol-hyung told me makeup accentuates my features!” sehun huffs indignantly. “and baekhyun-senpai actually makes makeup look so easy to apply.”

he thinks his eyes are actually sparkling a little because jongin just doubles over with laughter and he scowls. “you actually look like one of those cute little fanboys right now,” he teases, a bright glint in his eyes. “like senpai, senpai, please notice me!!!!”

“oh, do i?” sehun grins a little, before he reaches across the table, knocks jongin’s smoothie over and revels as jongin’s bubbly laughter turns into screams.

-

in his defense, it’s not his fault. nothing is ever his fault.

he’s always had a fear of crowds, has always hated being caught in them in fear of being pickpocketed. or molested. or something. what, he’s a pretty, young, totally available guy alright.

so it’s really not a surprise when sehun tries to pass as quickly as possible through the crowd gathered outside sephora. except, there’s a body that appears out of nowhere and collides into his, and sehun’s shopping bag lands with a ‘thud’ on the ground.

“i’m so sorry,” sehun vaguely hears, but he’s too busy gathering up his stuff to bother looking up.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles and pushes past the body, through the crowd which suddenly seems to be closing in on him, his cheeks burning.

it’s only three hours later that sehun develop a burning hatred for his crowd phobia.

-

“he was this close to me, jongin, and i let it slip right through my fingers,” sehun moans, burying his face in his hands.

jongin laughs and steals another mouthful of sehun’s apple pie. “and all you had to do was look up. and you might have seen the huge poster announcing that baekhyun’s giving a makeup class at sephora. or even better, you could have seen him in person and die on spot that you actually made!! physical!! contact!! with him,” jongin supplies helpfully, chewing on the end of his spoon.

sehun really thinks now would be a good time for him to shove jongin’s head into the apple pie. he should have chosen sweet little kyungsoo as a best friend instead. “you are like the most sympathetic person i have ever known,” sehun deadpans.

and jongin has the decency to beam at sehun, before his smile is wiped off his face and his eyes are suddenly as wide as saucers.

“what now, you bitch,” he snaps in annoyance, turning around and freezing.

he must be dreaming. and this is a cruel nightmare to tease him for missing his makeup senpai yesterday. if he pinches himself hard enough, he just might wake up.

ouch. okay. maybe not.

byun baekhyun rubs the back of his neck a little awkwardly and slides a brown eyeliner pen on the table. “you uh, left this behind yesterday. when you bumped into me. i, uh. nice color. this color’s really hot this season.”

"how did you find me?" sehun says instead, because it's better than yelling senpai has noticed me!!! like what his brain is advising him to do.

“i.” baekhyun averts his eyes and fiddles with his thumbs, before dropping them pathetically and chancing a glance up at sehun. “look, i’ve heard of you before, alright? that really pretty ulzzang that everyone’s been crazy over these days.”

sehun’s eyes widen a little at this. across from him, jongin looks like he’s about to roll of his chair either from shock or from the effects of holding in his laughter.

“and i kinda need a model for the latest makeup videos i’m working on. so i was wondering if you would be um interested to model for me.” baekhyun finishes, before his eyes widen slightly. “don’t worry! i’ll pay you!!”

sehun just blinks at him, his breath catching. his ulzzang days had always just been a hobby, something that sprouted when lu han posted a photo of him on the net due to his twisted definition of fun. he only carried on with it subsequently because of the positive reaction. and well, sehun likes attention.

he thinks, he really owes lu han bubble tea right about now.

baekhyun looks a little dejected, as he mumbles, “it won’t be a lot but we can negotiate if you are agreeable?”

and he’s going to kill himself if his tongue doesn’t fucking untangle itself and say something. he’s not going to fuck up his chance a second time. jongin would never let him live it down.

“pay is the last thing he would be worried about,” jongin exclaims, speaking on sehun’s behalf. “all he cares about is having your fingers on his face.”

“jongin!!!” sehun squeaks, as he kicks jongin in the shin under the table.

baekhyun looks slightly confused as he blinks at them. “so, is that a yes?”

“yes!!!” sehun exclaims, before he inhales deeply. he probably looks like a crazed bitch right now. so much for appearing sane and ~idol-worthy~. “yes,” he repeats, nodding in approval when his voice doesn’t crack awkwardly this time.

“great!” baekhyun exclaims as he reaches into his pocket. “here’s my name card. drop me a call when you’re done with classes and we’ll talk, alright?”

it’s only when baekhyun is out of earshot does sehun jump up from his seat and start bouncing on his toes, while jongin rolls his eyes and rubs his shin.

“you’d probably be more delighted if his fingers were on places other than your face,” jongin quips, lips tugged downwards in a scowl.

sehun decides, it’s the best day of his life, when jongin shrieks as sehun shoves his face into apple pie. because hey, what are best friends for.

Burn it to the Ground

equalises — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 12:45:14 GMT

Burn it to the Ground
1746w; PG
lu han/kai
Summary: Some scars are unforgettable, Jongin thinks, and the only thing time does is make them hurt less.
Warning: character death.
A/N: for euphorias again, because i love her that much ♥

"I'm not going."

"Jongin."

"He'll come back. He's nothing without us."

"I'm going."

Go with him, Jongin screams, but his voice is lost, drowned out by the sound of the television.

Jongin tries to shake the figure on the couch, but his hands slip right through, his words falling upon deaf years. Kai doesn't move from his seat, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly.

Kai hums under his breath, without sparing a look at the door until a loud crash resounds through the house and all eyes are on Minseok instantly. His face is deathly pale, as his fingers curl loosely around his phone, a puddle of water and glass pieces scattered around his feet.

"Lu Han met with an accident. His car caught fire."

Jongin doesn't even have to look to remember the paleness of Joonmyeon's face as he shakily commands them to get into the van. You idiot, he yells at Kai, whose face is contorted in a mixture of shock and disbelief, as a shaking Baekhyun shoves him out of the house.

-

Jongin wakes with a start, his shirt soaked thoroughly with sweat. He sighs and presses his palms to his eyes, breathing heavily.

He can still see it. The bandages wrapped around Lu Han's badly burnt body as Sehun clings on to Kyungsoo, lower lip quivering, and Jongdae presses his palms together in a silent prayer.

He can still hear it. The loud wailing from Yixing the minute Lu Han's heartbeat stopped, accompanied by a loud crash as Yifan slammed his fist against a wall, ignoring the blood trickling down his knuckles.

It's only when sunlight flits through the small gap of the curtain does Jongin force himself to check his calendar, although a date is already burned deeply into his brain.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what date it is when he's been plagued with sleepless nights.

-

"This isn't a good idea."

"Just let him be. You know how he's like on this day every year," is the last thing Jongin hears before he steps into the living room and Sehun and Yixing fall silent simultaneously.

Jongin manages a smile at them and shifts his weight slightly to his right foot. "Cereal?"

Sehun doesn't look up at him, just concentrates on shaking little golden flakes out of the cereal box while reaching for the milk carton. "It's fi-" Jongin begins, but snaps his jaw shut when Sehun's eyes flicker up and a bowl is shoved into his hand.

Nothing is said over the light clattering of metal spoons against ceramic bowls, until Sehun's phone vibrates against the table.

Jongin doesn't have to look to know who's calling. It's probably Baekhyun. Or Kyungsoo. Or maybe Jongdae, if his manager stopped being a prick and let him have his phone. On this particular day, there could only be eight people who would call any of them. It's pathetic, he thinks, that this day now remains the only reason for eleven individuals, who had once shed tears and sweat together, to meet up.

He walks out of the house, phone tucked in the back pocket of his jeans, after taking two mouthfuls of cereal.

-

Cherry blossoms are beautiful.

Jongin catches a falling petal in his outstretched hand, stares at it for two seconds and crushes it in his palm, letting the gentle breeze carry away its remnants.

A child wails nearby, his lower lip jutting out as he points accusingly at Jongin, like he's a monster, leaving beautiful things crushed in his wake. Jongin thinks Lu Han was spot-on all those times when he said children never lie, that they can see things clearer than everyone else.

"You're scaring him."

He knows it's pointless, that he'll catch up eventually, but Jongin does things his way nonetheless.

"Jongin."

Jongin stops as brown leather shoes appear before him. He counts silently to three, inhales and looks up.

"Stop running. You're starting to worry Joonmyeon."

There's a hint of exasperation laced between slight pants and Jongin finally meets his eyes.

"I'll always be less of a worry than Kris. Or Yifan. Or do you go by Kevin now?"

Yifan's gaze on him is unwavering, only shifting his weight slightly when pedestrians point at them, hiding words behind curved hands. "Let's go to somewhere more private," Yifan responds, slipping his shades back on.

Go, listen to him. give him the chance that everyone else has.

It's been four years, and Jongin hasn't stopped hearing his voice. Hasn't forgotten the way his fingers run through his hair. Hasn't forgotten the look on his face as he waits, waits for an answer that Jongin doesn't give.

It's four years too late, Jongin feels, for him to finally stop being stubborn - to start listening and stop arguing.

-

"Where are you? Joonmyeon says-"

The game controller slips from Lu Han's grasp and hits the ground with a resounding smash, to which chanyeol cringes. "You're so paying for that."

Lu Han doesn't reply Chanyeol, he just stares straight ahead and swallows. "No wait, don't do this. Don't scare me. This is just one of those days again, right? You can't just leave. What about -"

The subsequent silence that follows after the line goes dead on Lu Han is stifling, and Jongin straightens, hands reaching out to pull lu han to him.

He remembers it bright as day, the way Lu Han shakes as he pushes fingers through his blonde bangs and pulls; the way his eyes cloud with moisture; the way he pulls away from Jongin and reaches for his brown jacket.

"I'm going to get him. I'm going to bring yifan back, if it's the last thing I'll do," Lu Han whispers to Jongin.

And like a true man, Lu Han keeps his word.

-

"Cafe au Lait," Yifan says as he slides the menu back to the waitress.

The waitress cocks an eyebrow at Jongin and smiles, pen still poised above her notepad. "None for me."

"Jongin."

"We won't be long, so there's no point."

Yifan sighs and casts a tensed smile at the waitress. "Give him a black coffee."

"You remember," Jongin answers the moment the waitress is out of earshot.

"You're predictable."

He shoots Yifan a dark glare at that, disappointment filling him slightly when Yifan's gaze on him doesn't even waver. "Wish the same could be said about you," he snaps.

He's replied with silence until their coffee arrives and Yifan shoves a couple of won to the waitress, insisting that she keeps the change.

Jongin takes small sips of his coffee, thumbing at the flower-shaped cookie on the saucer. Across him, Jongin can feel Yifan's gaze on him, his lips curved down slightly, the way they always did when Yifan's weighing the impact of his subsequent words.

"Why don't you take up Yixing's offer? Go dance with him and Sehun. You're better than this, Jongin."

The biscuit between his thumb and his forefinger snaps, as Jongin glances up. "Why is that any of your business?"

"Because it's time to move on."

He's suddenly on his feet, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, ignoring the looks that other patrons are shooting them. It's fine, he's been deemed as SM's biggest failure three years back, the minute he announced that he's had enough of performing, of pretending. "Don't tell me how -"

"I miss him too," Yifan snaps, his voice raising several tones, cracking a little around the edges, and that alone is enough to silence Jongin. "And i still hate myself with every passing day but that's not going to change anything, Jongin."

Yifan's eyes are shining, as he looks away from Jongin, out the window, and Jongin falters slightly. It's been too long. Too long since he's seen Yifan like this, tensed and on the edge of breaking.

"Why did you do that?"

Yifan looks up in slight confusion and Jongin takes a deep breath. "Why did you want to leave without saying goodbye? Do years of training with us mean nothing to you?"

When he's only met with silence, Jongin shakes his head and continues, voice raising with each word, "Nothing would have happened to him if you talked to us about this. EXO wouldn't have been cast as SM's greatest tragedy."

Jongin presses his palms to his eyes and whispers, "And Lu Han would be more than a memory."

For several moments, all Jongin can hear is the stirring of the coffee machine in the background, the light tingling of bells as patrons enter the cage, mixed with his own harsh breathing.

"I'm sorry," is what Yifan says instead.

It would be too hypocritical of Jongin to reach across the table for Yifan's hand, to tell him it's all behind them now. So instead, Jongin stands, his coffee barely touched, and leaves with the tinkling of bells behind him.

-

Sehun slides a disc under his door that night, which Jongin leaves untouched until he nearly trips over it on his way to the shower.

He doesn't sleep that night, he stays up and puts Yifan's solo album, eleven stories untold, on loop instead.

He replays track eleven, until Yifan's mianhae sounds sincere enough to leave Jongin in a weeping mess.

-

He buries Yifan's album in the ground the following day, next to wilting flowers.

There's a soft sigh behind him, before brown leather shoes appear beside his green sneakers. "Hated it that much?"

"I wouldn't bury it here if that was so," Jongin replies, rubbing his fingers across the white marble, in memoirs of Lu Han.

Yifan doesn't say anything, as he watches Jongin get to his feet, a bouquet of tulips in his hands.

Jongin pulls out a white tulip and lays the rest beside Lu Han's grave, before offering it to Yifan. "I think Lu Han's heard your stories, all eleven of them."

Yifan reaches out cautiously, catching the white tulip just as Jongin lets go and turns to walk off.

"Do you want to come over? Yixing's cooking stew," Jongin says.

Yifan smiles at him in return, skipping several steps to keep up with Jongin, as Jongin returns his gaze to the ground, each step he takes more confident than the last.

Just as he reaches Yifan's car, he throws a backward glance, and he swears, the glimmer of light that catches his eye is Lu Han, smiling at him for the first time in four long years.

最强悍的第三者，永远都不是别人，而是。。。命运。
(Very often, the most hated third party isn't human, but fate.)

－林俊杰

-

a/n: white tulips are a symbolism of forgiveness.

randomly inspired by the quote from jj lin above and i just felt like writing disbandment fic, i have no idea. um euphorias please don't kill me. no sharp objects please.

thanks again to hoaegi for beta-ing my fic and for being frank enough to tell me what confuses you and what works! ♥

i promise i'll write happy things. soon.

p.s. if there's anything urgent and you wish to contact me, please pm specialises because i rarely log on here to check pms. thanks!

60 Seconds

equalises — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 07:22:43 GMT

60 Seconds
1395w; PG
sehun/kai
Summary: 60 seconds, Sehun decides, is all he needs for this story.
A/N: for euphorias. this is your retribution for giving me feels from Sunggyu's 60 Seconds ;;

He sees the pair of limited edition Converse shoes approaching him before he hears his voice, which hasn't changed a single bit since the first day, two years ago.

"Sehun-sshi? It's nice to meet you!"

Sehun forces his eyes up from the ground and he manages a smile at Jongin, before gripping his hand and letting Jongin shake it firmly. He ignores the way his heart clenches slightly, pretends that the brightness in Jongin's smile is filled with courtesy and not the happiness that he had given up on in the past.

Beside Jongin, Jinri shifts slightly and gives Sehun an apologetic smile with a bow of her head, although Sehun sees the hand on Jongin's arm tightening slightly.

That's right, Sehun remembers bitterly. In this life, he's in love with Jinri. In this life, his hand's supposed to be around Jinri's waist, it's not supposed to be a perfect fit in the curve of yours.

Sehun remembers the way Yixing ran fingers through his hair when he had said that maybe, just maybe, things were better this way. He remembers the way Lu Han had held him, eyes laced with sympathy and regret, unwilling to let go even when Sehun had insisted that he was fine, forcing out the tears that Sehun had been fighting.

Next to him, Soojung finds his hand under the table and gives it a tight squeeze as Jongin slides into the seat opposite Sehun.

It's okay, I'm here, I won't let anything hurt you from this point, Sehun. He remembers the look on Soojung's face when she showed up on his doorstep, the day after Jongin's operation. He remembers the lavender perfume she was wearing and the apologies that kept falling from her lips on Jinri's behalf as she pulled his lifeless body into a hug. I'll keep the promise that Jongin couldn't.

"Jinri told me you guys are good friends but she never told me how you met," Jongin says, successfully snapping Sehun out of his thoughts, while he flips through the menu absentmindedly.

"I thought I'll leave Sehun the honors of telling the story," Jinri supplies quietly, her eyes not meeting Soojung's piercing ones.

"Jongin is a law undergraduate. He has never been part of that stupid troop with you or any of those guys, do you understand? He doesn't need this association with the people who landed him in this state."

"Jinri and I are high school classmates and I introduced Sehun to her," Soojung finishes on behalf of Sehun, annoyance tinging her voice, unsaid accusations hanging densely in the air between the three of them.

Jongin looks intrigued and blissfully unaware of the present situation as he shifts in his seat. Sehun's eyes momentarily fall to the ring on Jongin's right hand, before he hurriedly shoves his own hand under the table. He clears his throat, and interrupts Jinri mid-sentence, "Where did you get that ring?"

"That's pretty," Sehun comments, pulling Jongin to a halt at a cheap roadside store.

Jongin makes a face and grumbles, "That's for girls, god."

"I like pretty things, is that a sin," Sehun deadpans, as he twirls the little silver ring between his thumb and his pointer finger.

"Ahjumma, do you have two of those?"

Sehun looks at Jongin in bewilderment, as Jongin grabs the rings and pulls Sehun away from the stall. They round a corner and Jongin uncurls his fingers, takes one of the rings and shoves it to Sehun, while he slides the other onto his ring finger, red tinging his cheeks slightly. "Just like those stupid girl movies that you like to watch right?"

Jongin blinks slightly before he looks down and smiles up at Sehun. "Oh this? It was on my bed side table after the operation and somehow when I put it on, it made me feel calm despite the situation I was in. Weird isn't it?"

Sehun manages a smile and looks out of the window to his left instead, blinking furiously as he slips the matching ring on his own finger into his pocket.

"Promise me never to take it off."

Sehun stares at Jongin questioningly as he slaps more lotion onto Jongin's back and Jongin winces slightly.

"It'll protect you in my place, no matter where you are."

A dull silence falls upon the four of them, before Jinri stammers, "Jongin, why don't you help us order our drinks?"

"Sure," Jongin says brightly as he stands up.

"Ice Lemon Tea," Sehun says, without looking away from the window.

He hears an amused laugh, before Jongin answers, "That's my favourite drink too! I think we'll be great friends, Sehun-sshi."

Sehun doesn't respond, although he feels Soojung's hand rubbing comforting circles into his thigh. You're the reason I fell in love with that drink.

It isn't until Jongin's out of earshot that Soojung loses it entirely and she hisses, "Jinri, you can't do this. You can't possibly play along with this insanity. I won't allow you to. He doesn't love you, he's in the delusion that he does!"

"But I love him," Jinri nearly shrieks and this forces Sehun's attention onto her.

Soojung runs fingers through her curls and throws a sidelong glance at Jongin, who simply smiles and waves at them. "Jinri, this just isn't right. You don't have the right to dictate Jongin's life for him. You don't have the right to deprive him of true love."

"But this is how things are supposed to be!" Jinri exclaims as she leans forward and glares at Soojung. "If Jongin had never given up his law spot and joined that stupid dance troop, he would have never injured his waist. He would never have fallen off stage during one of those practices and he would never have needed that stupid surgery or lost his memory!"

"He doesn't remember anything. This is our chance for a clean slate."

Sehun leans against the wall of the hospital silently, eyes fixed on the white walls closing in on him.

Jongin's father's eyes are emotionless as he finishes, "This is our chance to create a life for Jongin all over again. One that doesn't involve you."

Her voice drops to a whisper as she stares at Sehun accusingly. "And he would have never fallen in love with you or broken my initial engagement with him for you."

Sehun stares back at her blankly, before he notices the glimmer of silver as Jinri tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. He reaches across the table and grabs her hand, his voice flat as he asks, "What is that?"

Jinri's eyes flicker away from his and she yanks her hand out of his grip, her voice dropping to a whisper, "We're getting married in three months."

Behind her, Jongin appears with their drinks and laughs. "And here you told me it would be rude to tell your friends about our engagement on the first meeting."

Sehun stares incredulously at them, ignoring everything that Soojung is saying in a hushed voice beside him.

He's getting married.

And it's not to you.

He reaches into his pocket and slides the ring onto the table. "Have a good life," he manages, before he reaches for his bag and strides out of the cafe.

Sehun picks up his pace, trying desperately to forget the sheer look of confusion that had flashed across Jongin's features briefly as he looked down at his own ring, and the look of panic as Jinri reaches for the ring, failing to grab it before Jongin.

He pushes forward, ignoring the light tinkling of the bells behind him as he hears Soojung struggling to keep up with his pace, all the while calling out to him.

"What about your parents?"

"It's my life, I think I know better who I want to spend it with," Jongin responds defiantly, as he curls his fingers around Sehun's and gives his hand a tight squeeze.

Only then does Sehun let his tears fall. Only then does Sehun start running.

Maybe somewhere, in an alternate universe, homosexuality would stop being a reason to separate two people.

Maybe in that universe, Sehun would be a girl.

Maybe in that universe, they are together.

"Sehun!" Soojung yells, as Sehun hails a cab and boards it, slamming the door shut behind him. "Sehun, wait!"

Maybe, in that alternate universe, Sehun would finally stop hurting.

-

this is loosely based off the story in Sunggyu's 60 Seconds mv and also slightly based off this taiwanese drama that i watched a couple of years back.

once again, thank you to hoaegi for beta-ing this and for giving me the green light to post it!

p.s. i hope your heart broke into 10 million glass shards, euphorias n____n

明明就

equalises — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 13:14:41 GMT

明明就
1022w; G
suho/kris
Summary: Of all the failed relationships that Joonmyeon's been through, the one with Yifan's the only one he regrets.

It should have been a cue for him to grab his things and high-tail out of there the moment Joonmyeon spotted a pair of sleek black shoes which he had never seen before at any of the other gatherings. Instead, he simply shrugs it off as a possible addition to Sehun's ever-expanding shoe collection, which was as volatile as his hair colour, back when it had been a group of twelve instead of twelve groups of one.

Instead, he is left in the awkward situation of standing at the door, his mouth hanging slightly open as a confused Yixing waves a hand in front of him continuously. Behind Yixing, Yifan's eyes dart towards the door and locks with Joonmyeon's for the briefest moment, before he raises his eyebrows slightly and pushes past Jongin, towards the kitchen.

"Are you going to come in?" Lu Han finally asks, with a tinge of exasperation.

"You have to," Zitao says with finality, as he tugs on Joonmyeon's jacket sleeve and drags him into the house.

Joonmyeon sighs, mutters a mental prayer for things to be fine and lets Zitao have his way, shoving the bag of chips he brought to Sehun on the way. Sehun simply gives him a squeeze on his shoulder and proceeds to squeal at the new flavour of chips while waving them in Chanyeol's face.

To his left, Baekhyun hands him a glass of champagne and exclaims, "Finally, we have a gathering of twelve and not eleven. How long has it been?"

"Since disbandment," Kyungsoo answers quietly.

A dull silence falls upon them, until Yifan re-enters the room and nearly trips over Yixing's bag, soft curses falling from his lips, while Yixing sticks out his tongue and laughs at his brittle bones.

Joonmyeon averts his eyes and tries to engage Jongdae in conversation about his singing career, laughing at the most appropriate parts to sentences that he's barely listening to.

It's only after two hours, when more than half of them are drunk that Joonmyeon finally finds himself alone with Yifan. He clears his throat and asks, "So, how's the modelling business?"

Yifan shrugs. "It's like singing. Minus half the scandals and drama."

Joonmyeon mumbles a soft oh and takes a sip of his fourth glass of champagne for the night. Yifan shifts a little next to him, before asking, "How's what's-her-name?"

Joonmyeon chokes slightly and sputters, "How did you -"

"Chanyeol was talking about how cute you guys were back in June when he saw the two of you together in some park or something."

Damn Chanyeol. Joonmyeon curses, but he settles for giving a little shrug instead and makes a noncommittal sound. "It's nothing serious."

Yifan swirls the liquid in his glass a little, before he glances at Joonmyeon and asks, "Is she to your parents' liking?"

In a flash, it's like they're in their mid-twenties again, and Joonmyeon is too scared to stand up for himself and be truthful, once again, and Yifan's tired, tired of lying and being lied to.

He remembers the horror, the tears streaming down Baekhyun's face, the way Sehun curled up into a tight feral ball and huddled in the corner of their dorm, palms pressed to his ears, whispering continuously to himself that this wasn't true, that everything's a bad dream.

Most of all, he remembers the hurt, as Yifan announces in a flat voice that he's not renewing his contract with SM, and the smile that didn't reach his eyes as he said his goodbyes and walked out the door without so much of a backward glance.

Sometimes, Joonmyeon wonders if the others had ever stopped blaming him for the way EXO ended, if they ever hated him for not holding on to Yifan for the sake of the team; for not facing up to his own feelings and choosing to be the perfect son instead; for hurting Yifan.

Sometimes, Joonmyeon wonders if he'll ever stop resenting himself.

"Watch it."

Minseok's living room spins back into view, as Yifan's hand brushes across Joonmyeon's lightly, stabilising the glass that almost slipped from his grasp.

Joonmyeon steadies himself and inhales slightly. "They're not the ones marrying her."

Yifan raides an eyebrow and downs the rest of his brandy. "Really? Could have fooled me five years ago."

There's so much Joonmyeon wants to say - he's practised them in his mind on the endless sleepless nights that plague him for such a moment. He wants to tell Yifan about the relationships that never worked out, about the lack of effort and love from him as his girlfriends always claimed, about how something as intimate as a kiss with any one of them could never compare with the way his heart races when Yifan's hand brushes against his by accident and the way his skin tingles as an aftermath.

But right now, with Yifan staring expectantly at him, all the words whirl relentlessly in his mind, and he thinks, wow, Yifan still has it in him to silence anyone with that glare.

Yifan sighs and picks up his bag. "Tell the others I'll make a move first. I have a shoot early tomorrow. It's been nice seeing you again, Joonmyeon."

Joonmyeon watches helplessly, as Yifan bends down to lace his shoelaces, fringe still falling into his eyes.

This is it. He can't let Yifan slip through his fingers again, he can't live with the guilt weighing him down, he can't breathe without pain clenching his heart. He-

"Yifan," Joonmyeon manages in a rush, a moment of weakness.

Yifan looks up, fingers pausing on his shoelaces and blinks at him, his eyes daring Joonmyeon to speak, to be honest, to touch him.

Joonmyeon inhales deeply and breathes out, "Of all the failed relationships that I've been through, ours was the only one where I regretted every single day of my life."

Yifan straightens, hand on the doorknob, before he fixes him with a look and answers, "And ours was the only one that I force myself to forget every single day."

With that, he yanks the door open and walks out, slamming the door shut behind him.

-

well, one of the more sadistic things that i've written lately. the ideas for this fic came from many sources, from things that have been bothering me for quite some time, so this is a fic that i find rather personal. none of the things written here are directed towards exo whatsoever, so please don't find offense, if any. i hope readers like it, nonetheless.

p.s. thanks hoaegi for reading through it a couple of times and correcting bits of my phrasing, as well as giving me the green light to post this.

carpe diem

equalises — Mon, 17 Dec 2012 02:09:48 GMT

carpe diem
7,178w; PG
kris/chanyeol
Summary: To Yifan, there is nothing more important than his schedule. However, Park Chanyeol challenges that belief on a daily basis.
A/N: written for my cutest enabler, timeshaker ♥. serves as a side-story to her buttoned up; 互扣. can be read as a stand-alone.

-

carpe diem - a phrase which means “seize the day.” take life for it’s best and take a hold of every opportunity.

Personality Types:
Red - unpredictable, carries out actions based on emotions
Yellow - unorganised, untidy, constantly late
Blue - statistical, no-nonsense, cares about hard facts
Green - systematic, analytical, bothers about minute insignificant details

-

“He’s totally your type.”

Yifan rolls his eyes and continues copying the names of the gathered participants onto his Excel spreadsheet. Lu Han pouts and kicks Yifan’s chair, causing it to spin precociously one, before it stops with a scowling Yifan in Lu Han's face.

“I don’t have a type,” Yifan deadpans with a roll of his eyes.

Lu Han beams at him and shakes his head, murmuring in a low voice, “No, no, no; I’m sure of it. I've never been wrong at things like this.”

“Who’s Yifan-ge’s type?”

Yifan slumps forward till his forehead hits the table as Yixing plops down on the revolving chair beside Lu Han, sporting a mischievous grin. Lu Han he could deal with. Lu Han with a sprinkle of Yixing always resulted in him being a gigantic joke.

“Yeolo~” Lu Han responds with a small hum, which leaves Yixing with bright eyes, and he starts jabbing Yifan repeatedly in the ribs.

Yifan ignores both of them and turns back to his laptop to resume his work. His eyes narrow on a particular row and he curses, “Oh dear god, please tell me my eyesight is failing me.”

Yixing leans against his arm, and raises an eyebrow when he sees the row Yifan is mentioning. Lu Han lets out a giggle from his left and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Yixing, before the two of them erupt into laughter, Yixing collapsing into Yifan's lap.

He momentarily contemplates on killing both of them as he types in the final letter of the name with more force than necessary. Best friends? Please, these two lived to see his misery.

Park Chanyeol.

-

“Boring.”

Yifan rolls his eyes at Lu Han for the umpteenth time and continues twirling his pen absent-mindedly. He belatedly regrets agreeing to carry out the experiment at this engineering school with the rest of this hurriedly-assembled team, which many others had flat-out rejected.

If anything, Yifan’s learning on his second day on campus that these engineers-to-be are too obsessed with hard facts for anyone’s good. They would probably be the people who go against the hypothesis of the experiment – when two people of different colour types are forced to interact frequently, their secondary colour would alter to ultimately become the opposing colour type.

Next to him, Lu Han flicks an imaginary piece of lint off Yifan’s shirt and stifles a yawn as girls walk past them, gawking slightly. Lu Han flashes them a polite smile which vanishes as soon as they are gone, before he turns to Yifan and complains, “This school is so boring, Yifan. There are no cuties and – oh!”

Yifan glances up from his laptop as Lu Han scurries towards two guys. His eyes widen momentarily before he turns back to his laptop and wills his invisibility powers to start acting up.

It doesn’t work.

“Hello, Yifan! We meet again!”

“Unfortunately,” Yifan mutters under his breath, his fingers stilling on his keyboard as he stares daggers into the hand rubbing his thigh.

Well, hello there, non-existent personal space. Yifan's eyes search the room in the hopes he might be able to bore a hole through Lu Han's head with his irritated glare, but ends up doing just that at the boy Lu Han’s eyes were locked on instead. The kid looks as scandalised as he was feeling, and Yifan makes a mental note to tell Lu Han to stop touching him, because if anything, Yifan has a slight idea of how annoyed the kid must be.

Yifan clears his throat and tries to brush Chanyeol’s hand off his thigh as politely as he can. “What’s your friend’s name?”

Chanyeol blinks at him before beaming and answering brightly, “Sehun! Oh Sehun. Why?”

We need to exchange tips sometime, Yifan thinks, but just gives Chanyeol a stiff smile instead and turns back to his laptop in the hopes that if he shuts up long enough, Chanyeol might just vaporise into bubbles, taking his insanity with him.

Yixing brushes past his table and Yifan grabs his hand, speaking in rapid Mandarin, “Please take this one, he’s totally your type.”

The instant Yixing's eyes fall on Chanyeol, Yifan knows he's made a terrible mistake and nearly curses out loud at the amusement swirling in Yixing's eyes. “You must be Park Chanyeol,” Yixing muses, a light smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Chanyeol straightens and blinks at Yixing, nodding vigorously as Yifan snaps, “He’s a yellow, Yixing. I don’t deal with yellows.”

“You’re supposed to deal with contradictions, Yifan. That’s the point of the experiment, so green and yellow is a perfect match.”

Yifan’s jaw drops as Yixing gives Chanyeol a pat on the shoulder and says reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Yifan’s just not used to people messing up his orderly life. So feel free to mess it up to your heart’s content! The bigger the mess, the more help you’ll be to this experiment!”

Chanyeol gives a huge nod, and Yixing gives a satisfied nod before bouncing off to the next station in search of a partner. Yifan takes a deep breath and counts to ten in his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

When he opens them, Chanyeol is an inch away from his face and Yifan backs up against his chair. He places a hand on Chanyeol’s chest and shoves him back, growling, “If you want this partner thing to work, we need ground rules. And rule number one is stay a meter away from me at all times. No touching, no in-my-face actions, nothing, or I’m finding a new partner right this moment.”

Chanyeol shrinks back into his chair and makes a soft whimpering sound. Yifan presses his fingers to his temple and rubs it in a slow, circular motion. He was clearly going to learn more than anyone else in this experiment.

-

“So, what are you doing?”

Yifan tenses and his fingers freeze over his keyboard as an arm wraps around his shoulder. He only relaxes when he hears melodious laughter and Lu Han collapses onto the chair next to him, wiggling his eyebrows cutely. “I think I’m doing a good job of imitating Chanyeol-sshi.”

“I think you and Yixing are having too much fun with this,” Yifan sighs, almost resignedly, and turns his attention back to his laptop.

Lu Han crinkles his nose in slight distaste and jabs Yifan until Yifan huffs, “Yes, what do you want?”

“Pair me up with Sehun,” Lu Han whines, throwing in a small pout for good measure.

Yifan glances down at the list next to his laptop. Oh Sehun, blue. He sighs and replies, “That can be arranged. But let the system try doing the pair-ups first, and if you guys aren’t paired up… I’ll see what I can do.”

Lu Han claps with glee, spinning around on his red chair, before pausing abruptly and grinning somewhat suggestively. Yifan doesn’t appreciate that look at all. “I can pair you up with Chanyeol-sshi to return the favour.”

“How about no,” he deadpans, eyes averting Lu Han’s glinting ones.

Yifan exhales as he keys in the information of the last participant and clicks a button, waiting patiently for the system to work its magic. Lu Han bounces in the seat beside him, humming a soft tune and spinning his chair around like a five-year-old. Yifan side-eyes him and vaguely wonders how they could possibly be the same age.

Beep. “It’s done!” Lu Han exclaims and leans in to search for his name.

Yifan sighs and nearly falls out of his chair as Lu Han shrieks, “I’m paired with Sehun! This is fate, Yifan. Fate.”

He rolls his eyes and attempts to shove Lu Han off his lap, before Lu Han erupts into little fits of laughter and rolls on his lap. “What,” Yifan groans, although he already has a slight idea of what Lu Han’s laughing about.

“Looks like you’re fated with Yeolo too.”

In one swift motion, Yifan shoves Lu Han off his lap and proceeds to find a rope to hang himself.

-

Dong. The grandfather’s clock in the classroom sounds and Yifan glances up. It’s ten, but it’s not like he was expecting Chanyeol to be on time anyway. Yellows are never on time and they exist solely to throw everything off Greens’ schedule because they are–

Stop judging, he can almost hear Yixing laugh. Yixing’s always had the easiest time out of all the staff, considering he’s mainly a Red, like Lu Han, except he packs Yellow, Blue and Green as all his secondary colours.

“Sorry I’m late!”

Yifan jumps slightly as Chanyeol bounces into the classroom and conveniently drags a chair along with him, planting himself next to Yifan, so close as if making sure that their thighs are rubbing. Yifan shoots him a glare and Chanyeol lets out a soft whimper before he shifts his chair slightly to the left with a small pout.

“So, I think I mentioned previously that the test results show that you’re a Yellow without a secondary colour. I’ll go into detail about the personality type of Yellows for you to affirm the accuracy of the results now, is that alright?”

Yifan looks up from his logbook and makes a face as Chanyeol stares into space and swats the air. Short attention span, he writes before crossing it out and replacing it with non-existent attention span.

When he looks up, Chanyeol’s smiling at him brightly and Yifan winces. “Did you say something?” Chanyeol asks and blinks at him.

“Nothing of importance,” Yifan mutters as he scribbles down more observations in his logbook.

Chanyeol leans over and tries to sneak a peek, but ends up pushing his bag onto the floor, causing his papers and books to fall out in an unceremonious heap. Yifan pauses in his writing to make a face as Chanyeol bends down and laughs sheepishly, stuffing crumpled pieces of paper back into his bag, one after another. Incredibly untidy and lacks organisation.

Yifan stares at the growing list in front of him and massages his temples. He hasn’t even exchanged more than ten sentences with Chanyeol and he’s already found a strong affirmation for the results that the system’s presented him with.

He closes his logbook and sits back in his chair, before he clears his throat and says, “I think we’re done for today, Chanyeol-sshi.”

Chanyeol blinks at him and exclaims, “But I haven't even been in here for ten minutes!”

“And you’ve already given me all the information I require,” Yifan says, with finality. “Since today’s session objective was just to affirm your results, we’re done with today’s objective. There’s no time limit to each interactive session that we have together.”

He’s on his feet and ironing out the wrinkles in his shirt with his palm when Chanyeol tugs on his wrist. “You never told me what colour you are!”

“I’m a Green,” Yifan says slowly. “Which means I am extremely concerned about minute details which you didn’t bother listening to a couple of minutes ago. And I am incredibly stringent with punctuality because tardiness throws my schedule off track.”

Chanyeol gapes at him slightly and lets go, looking as dejected as a cat that had just been kicked. Yifan spins on his heel and takes off in swift strides. He pauses at the door, then walks back over to Chanyeol and grips his hand. “And it means I am extremely uncomfortable with this,” he says, holding up their intertwined fingers in between their faces.

He lets go of Chanyeol’s hand and walks out without looking back, ignoring the horribly sad look on Chanyeol's face.

-

“You should be less brutal to people,” Yixing comments over lunch with a click of his tongue.

Baekhyun stifles a laugh and jokes, “That’s like asking pigs to fly.”

Yifan shoots both of them a glare and returns to his food. Beside him, Lu Han stirs his noodles around in its bowl and chews on his chopsticks, before saying, “Yixing’s right. You know how hard it is to find people who are predominantly one colour. Don’t scare him off with your bitch face, Yifan.”

“Then he needs to respect this,” Yifan says in exasperation as he draws an invisible box around himself.

Yixing rolls his eyes and places his fork down, clasping his hands together. “That’s like asking pigs to fly,” he repeats, causing Baekhyun to erupt into laughter.

“In all seriousness though, you need to tell him to respect that in a more… understandable manner, Yifan. Yellows don’t deal well with details and you’re probably giving him too much of a headache with all your explanations and analyses that his brain’s not receptive to anything you say,” Yixing finishes with flourish, and Lu Han applauds him happily.

He contemplates Yixing’s words for a couple of seconds before finally giving up and saying, “So, what’s the Yellow way of saying stop touching me?”

Yixing rolls his eyes as Lu Han attempts not to fall out of his chair. Baekhyun reaches across the table, ignoring Yifan’s protests of don’t touch my face and presses the tips of his fingers to the side of Yifan’s lips, before he pushes them up. “Smile,” he says, sarcasm dripping out of his one word.

Yifan tries just that; Yixing winces slightly, and Lu Han stares at him with his mouth hanging open, bits of noodles on display for the world. Lu Han swallows and sighs, “We’ll work on that. Just pretend you’re talking to the president of your fanclub back in college for now.”

“She disbanded the fanclub after I spoke to her for the first time.”

There’s a momentary silence, before all three of them erupt into viperous laughter. Yifan takes this as his cue to exit, stage right.

-

The black door creeks as it teeters on its hinges before Yifan. Yifan stares at the list in his phone; the haunted house certainly did not make the list.

Okay, so we’ll spend thirty minutes in the haunted house. That means we’ll push back the water rides by thirty minutes, and they’ll need to be cut short to –

“Stop counting the time in your head,” Baekhyun chimes, his hand falling easily on Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

Yifan glares at Baekhyun, before he pockets his phone. Next to Baekhyun, Kyungsoo whimpers and mumbles, “Can we not go in there, Baekhyun-sshi?”

Baekhyun flashes him a brilliant smile and answers, “Of course! We don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to. The purpose of coming to this amusement park is for me to analyse you, and that’ll be easier if you’re comfortable in your environment.”

Kyungsoo beams at Baekhyun and begins to tug him in the opposite direction, towards the ferris wheel, just as Yifan reaches out and yanks at Baekhyun’s sleeve. “Wait, you’re not going in there?”

“No,” Baekhyun answers slowly, as though weighing the severity of his words by gauging Yifan’s expression. “Joonmyeon-hyung said we have to go by what our subject wants, remember? And Kyungsoo doesn’t want to go into the haunted house, but Chanyeol-sshi does. Which means you in, me out. Have fun, Yifan.”

He wriggles out of a gaping Yifan’s grip and drags Kyungsoo away swiftly. Yifan inhales deeply and turns to a beaming Chanyeol, saying, “Can we do this later? I kind of had a schedule and –”

“But the queue is starting to build up,” Chanyeol interrupts with a timid glance at Yifan.

Yifan takes one last lingering look at his list before he follows Chanyeol and heads towards the queue. Chanyeol couldn’t possibly be any worse than Lu Han’s clinginess when horror was involved... could he?

-

The thing that really repulses Yifan about haunted houses were the ghosts sprawled at his feet, clinging onto his pants and threatening to suck his soul out. And if Yifan's always thought that was bad enough, it’s simply because he’s never been into a haunted house with Park Chanyeol.

Yifan staggers out of the haunted house forty minutes later, and nearly collapses onto Baekhyun, who is happily sharing a bag of popcorn with Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun side-eyes him carefully as Chanyeol exits the house and claps his hands excitedly, exclaiming, “That was so fun!”

“Yifan seems to disagree,” Baekhyun teases as he steals more popcorn from Kyungsoo’s hands.

Yifan kicks Baekhyun, who moves grudgingly to his left to make room. “He was already clinging onto my arm and shrieking at non-existent ghosts before we cleared the threshold.”

Baekhyun throws back his head and laughs jubilantly. “Lu Han does that every time we watch horror movies too. You should be used to it by now.”

“I am,” Yifan snaps, as he throws a glance at Chanyeol. “But he decided to let go and wander off mid-journey. So I ended up letting this ghostly girl cling on to my hand for the following five minutes, before wondering why it was so silent, resulting in the shock of my life.”

Chanyeol blinks back at them, proceeding to steal popcorn from Kyungsoo, ignoring the bright look of panic in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Baekhyun stares blankly at Yifan, letting popcorn roll off his tongue, earning himself a disgusted look. “You didn’t mind him touching you.”

Yifan pauses in the midst of rolling up his shirt sleeve, his eyes widening as he glances up at Baekhyun, who reaches into his bag for his phone and dials for Yixing.

-

“It’s nothing to be alarmed about,” Joonmyeon assures him, as he leans back into his chair and stares at Yifan’s test results. “You’re still predominantly Green. Our primary colours almost never change because it’s tied with a type of mindset that we’ve been having while growing up. But along the way, based on interactions we’ve had with other people, we start gaining secondary colours, just like how Yixing and Lu Han did.”

Yixing gives him a nod coupled with a dimpled smile beside him. Yifan exhales shakily as he stares down at his test results, trying to internalise the bombshell Joonmyeon’s just dropped on him.

“You’re actually helping with our study,” Lu Han pipes up with a smile and Yifan returns the smile meekly.

It’s only when he’s on his way home, does Yifan start googling the truth behind Joonmyeon’s words. He tries to ignore the way his heart races as he enters site after site affirming Joonmyeon’s analysis, and throws his phone back into his sling bag, pressing his head against the cool surface of the train wall.

-

5.07pm. Yifan counts to ten under his breath, soft enough to ensure that Lu Han cannot hear him from two seats away.

Sure enough, Chanyeol appears at the door, slightly breathless, by the time Yifan counts to nine. Yifan nods slowly and notes down ‘punctuality showing improvement’, kindly discounting the fact that being earlier by one second as per his calculation isn’t exactly the type of improvement that Joonmyeon would approve of. Or you could be turning into me and Chanyeol, thus your Math is deteriorating, he almost hears Lu Han say in a sing-song voice.

“Hi,” Chanyeol says, in a rather reserved manner, snapping Yifan out of his thoughts.

Yifan gives him a polite nod and signals to the empty seat next to him, as he adds another sticky note to his logbook. He holds his breath as Chanyeol settles down, waiting for the warm heat to find its way to his thigh, but the sensation doesn’t come and Yifan glances over at Chanyeol, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

Chanyeol whips out his engineering lecture notes and doodles bored little circles on it, stifling a yawn.

Yifan blinks slowly and notes down the unusual observation in a yellow post-it, which he sticks in his logbook, before snapping it shut. Chanyeol hasn’t looked up from his notes and Yifan tries to sneak a little poke at his shoulder, before his gaze falls on Sehun, eyebrows raised and mouth forming a little ‘o'.

Yifan clears his throat instead, and lets his hand drop, trying to pass off what appeared to be a weird motion with a little shrug. Next to him, Chanyeol shifts in his seat and flashes Sehun a bright smile, which Sehun returns with an awkward tweak of his facial muscles.

It puzzles him, to say the least, when Chanyeol doesn’t lay a single finger on him for the rest of the session, and Yifan admits – begrudgingly – that he does feel a little weird without Chanyeol’s hand touching him at any point of time. It’s almost like imagining a world where Yixing didn’t exist to torment him and expose his beauty secrets.

Yifan thinks, if anything, this is a sure sign of insanity.

-

“I thought I told you through text that I’m cancelling out meet-up today,” Yifan snarls as Chanyeol approaches him and Yixing.

Chanyeol blinks at him and stammers, “O-oh, I’m sorry. My phone ran out of battery.”

Chanyeol turns to leave, just as Yixing looks up from his logbook and calls out, “Chanyeol-sshi.”

Yifan shoots him a questioning look, as Yixing continues, “Please take him out of the lab. He’s been in a foul mood the entire day and a walk would do him some good. It’ll also lighten the atmosphere enough for me to actually get some work done.”

“Yixing –”

But Yixing’s already picked up Yifan’s bag and is throwing his logbook and pencil case in it, shoving it against his chest. “Go,” Yixing orders, his hand lingering on Yifan’s as he hands Yifan his bag. “Yellows are supposed to be good at cheering people up and that’s what you need right now or I’ll get Lu Han here to yell at you.”

There isn’t much room for argument when Yixing’s made up his mind and has even gone to the extent of dragging Lu Han into the picture, so Yifan sighs in resignation, picks up his bag and joins Chanyeol at the door.

-

It’s a too cold for a visit to the beach, Yifan wants to say, but the words are caught in the back of his throat when Chanyeol turns around and throws him a grin.

“Why are we here?” Yifan yells over the loud whipping of the wind.

Chanyeol doesn’t answer him, he just signals Yifan to follow him, as he steps on rocks and climbs up to the very tip of the steep (rather precarious-looking, actually) tip. Yifan follows his steps and comes to a stop next to Chanyeol, shooting him a puzzled look.

“My dad always brought me here when I’m a kid,” Chanyeol begins. “He always told me, son, take all the anger that’s threatening to tear you apart and throw it out into the sea. Scream it all out, and let the waves carry away your anger and bring you the courage to forgive in the next tide.”

It’s a strangely profound saying that catches Yifan off-guard, because Chanyeol of all people should be the last to teach him such things.

Chanyeol lets out a loud scream beside him and Yifan raises an eyebrow at him. “Try it, it really helps.”

He swears he’s going to go insane, as he opens his mouth and lets out a short scream. Chanyeol chances a glance at him and lets out another scream. Yifan laughs and joins him, letting out a long scream that leaves him breathless as cold air rushes into his lungs.

When he finally runs out of breath, Yifan joins Chanyeol on the floor. They’re sitting close enough for their thighs to brush against each other and Yifan finds it surprisingly comforting.

“Thanks,” Yifan says, after his hair’s been thoroughly messed up by the wind, despite the amount of gel he slathered on it in the morning.

Chanyeol gives him a thumb up and asks, “Feeling better?”

Screaming didn’t take away the pressing issues that had been bothering him since he had received a dreaded phone call from his mother earlier that day, but Yifan appreciates the effort nonetheless, so he responds with a meek smile and a small nod.

The smile he gets in return from Chanyeol makes him feel strangely warm inside, as Chanyeol says, “Anytime. We can run after the train next time and let it take away your problems to the next town.”

Yifan laughs and asks, “How many anger management methods do you have?”

Chanyeol’s eyes brighten at that and he launches into an intense monologue, jumping from how his father helps him feel better about things to his fondest childhood memories.

It isn’t much, but Yifan finds himself feeling surprisingly light-hearted by the time he reaches home and toes off his shoes. He supposes for once, Park Chanyeol isn’t such an annoying prick after all.

-

“Yifan!”

Yifan slides his phone into his pocket and gives Chanyeol a small wave, as Chanyeol jogs up to him, backpack haphazardly slung on his right shoulder. Yifan inhales, palm rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, before he says, “I know this is kind of abrupt, but I have to meet a couple of friends for an hour or so. I promised a friend I would help her with this song they’re performing for a gig tonight. So, maybe we could meet –”

“I can go with you!” Chanyeol exclaims while clapping his hands loudly.

“No, I don’t think –”

His phone vibrates in his palm as five new messages flood his inbox. Yifan sighs – he doesn’t have time for this – and nods, mumbling, “Just don’t embarrass me, please.”

-

“They’ll be acting like they drunk –”

Yifan sighs as the drum beat stops abruptly and he turns to Amber, eyebrow raised slightly. Amber looks slightly thoughtful, before she replies, “Yifan, bro, I’m just not feeling it.”

“Could you at least be more specific about what you want to feel? It would give me an idea of what direction to head.”

Amber shrugs slightly and turns to the drummer, before they start exchanging words rapidly. Yifan exhales loudly and settles down on the edge of the stage, trying to rack his brain for ideas of improvement.

“Are you guys performing at a club or something with a DJ?” Chanyeol pipes up from the floor.

Amber blinks at him and nods slowly. Chanyeol beams and claps his hands together, continuing, “Maybe you could get the DJ to add some auto-mix at the parts where Yifan’s rapping? I think that’s what Far East Movement did for their actual song.”

There’s a dull hum of silence in the room, before Amber scrambles for her phone, scrolling rapidly through her music playlist for Like a G6. Yifan approaches her and presses his ear to the back of the phone, before pulling away and mumbling, “He’s right.”

Amber throws up her hands happily and exclaims, “Your friend’s a genius, Yifan!”

Yifan makes a small grunting sound and gives Chanyeol an appreciative nod, which earns him a bright smile – almost blinding him – in return.

“Hang on, let me call Kibum. He’s DJ-ing tonight, so I’ll see if he can help us with this,” Amber says, as she walks off with her phone pressed to her ear.

Yifan shrugs and settles back to his spot on the stage, mumbling the lyrics under his breath, cursing slightly at his lack of rhythm in comparison to Amber’s.

There’s a slight shuffling of footsteps, before Chanyeol takes a seat next to him (placing a surprising amount of distance between them, Yifan notes). “Maybe you should try it a little more like this,” Chanyeol suggests, clearing his throat slightly.

Yifan raises an eyebrow at him and watches Chanyeol make a big show of clearing his throat before he starts rapping Yifan’s entire part in perfect rhythm – although Yifan thinks his English is definitely better than Chanyeol’s.

Chanyeol smiles brightly at Yifan and flaps his arms slightly when he’s done. Yifan pauses slightly, looking in the direction that Amber disappeared off to. “Sorry,” Chanyeol mumbles softly and gets to his feet.

“No, wait,” Yifan calls out, causing Chanyeol to pause and blink at him blankly. “I mean, could you do that again? I kind of have a problem catching the rhythm and stuff.”

He’s met with a bright smile and an enthusiastic nod, as Chanyeol repeats line after line, with Yifan correcting his English along the way.

Yifan doesn’t even notice how long Amber’s been gone, until there’s a loud crash from behind them, and he sees Amber fumbling awkwardly with one of the cymbals. Yifan blinks at her and asks, “So what did Kibum say?”

“He asks us to get there an hour earlier than our initial arrangement for him to try things out with us first.”

Yifan gives her a nod, as Chanyeol walks back to where his bag is and resumes scribbling on his notes. Yifan’s eyes follow him unknowingly, waits for Chanyeol to look up from his notes, before he mouths thanks, accompanied with a small smile.

It’s only when Amber points out later on, after dinner, that Yifan’s being less serious around Chanyeol, does Yifan understand why his stomach's been twisting into painful knots lately.

Damn Lu Han and his stupid accuracy in judgment.

-

To be honest, if Yifan goes insane, he wouldn’t even know what the cause was – his newfound feelings for Chanyeol or how absolutely un-yellow Chanyeol’s been around him lately.

When he points this out to Lu Han, all he receives in return is a shrug and a well, he certainly has no problem with skinship. Yifan follows Lu Han’s eyes and sees the easy way Chanyeol slings his arm around Sehun, along with the way Sehun crinkles his nose and tries to brush Chanyeol’s arm off his shoulder.

“Oh,” Yifan mumbles, and writes down the observation in his logbook.

Across him, Lu Han yanks the pen out of Yifan’s grip and slams his logbook shut, fixing Yifan with a glare. “I’m sure there’s more you can say apart from that,” he deadpans.

Yifan shrugs and tries to pry Lu Han’s fingers off his logbook with a glare – one that has lost effect on anyone who’s worked with him for more than three months. He sighs and grumbles, “Alright, I’ll admit it’s bothering me a little. Can I have my logbook back now?”

Lu Han grins at him and leans back in his seat, pushing Yifan’s logbook back to its rightful owner. He shrugs and comments offhandedly, “Oh right, you remember that workshop Joonmyeon held for us? The one that you and Yixing arrived late for?”

“Yixing was being –”

Lu Han blinks at him with a bored expression and Yifan clamps his mouth shut, snapping, “Yes, what about that workshop and what does it have to do with Chanyeol?”

“Well, before you guys arrived, Joonmyeon was saying how opposite personality types are often attracted to each other. Yellows and Greens are just that.”

Yifan stares at him and folds his arms across his chest, raising one eyebrow. Lu Han waves his hand in a small winding motion and continues, “But Blues and Yellows are pretty different too. And well, Sehun’s a Blue.”

There’s a slight pause, before Yifan snorts, “Please, they’ve been friends for so long.”

Lu Han rolls his eyes. “Sure, but I’m sure Sehun treats Chanyeol way better than you ever did.”

Yifan stares in their direction just in time to witness Sehun smack Chanyeol’s forehead as Chanyeol leans across the table and steals a huge mouthful of Sehun’s sandwich. He narrows his eyes and chants silently it’s nothing it’s nothing it’s nothing.

A low whistle from Lu Han snaps him out of his mantra. “Looks like you’re no longer the flavor of the month, ho hum.”

Yifan wonders how long he’ll get laughed at as Yixing appears with Baekhyun just as he flings his entire logbook at Lu Han’s head.

-

Yifan stares down at the test results in his hands and takes a deep breath, as he counts to ten in his mind.

Primary colour: Yellow
Secondary colour: N/A

Next to him, Chanyeol shifts slightly in his seat and tries to peer at the papers in his hands. Yifan pulls the paper away from Chanyeol’s prying eyes and fixes him with a glare. Chanyeol shrinks slightly in his seat and asks, “What’s wrong with the test results?”

“Nothing,” Yifan responds. “There’s no change to the results from when you first took them.”

Chanyeol blinks at him and nods happily. “Of course not! I still forget to throw away junk that accumulates in my bag and I’m still late all the time when I’m meeting Sehun for class.”

“Oh Sehun.”

Chanyeol blinks at him and Yifan pretends not to notice the blank expression on his face, instead he scribbles down notes in his logbook. “What about Sehun?”

Yifan drops his pen and rolls his eyes, snapping, “Lu Han likes him, so stop flirting with him.”

Genuine confusion lines Chanyeol's features; he cocks his head to the right and blinks even more. Yifan inhales deeply, trying to calm himself down. Chanyeol finally answers, “But why would I flirt with him?”

“Isn’t that what you do with people that you like in the present?”

Chanyeol swallows and mumbles, “But I still like you.”

Yifan snorts, anger rising in him insanely. “Cut it out. Based on this test, Yellows would be all touchy and intimate with the person they like. And you’ve been anything but that with me as of late.”

Chanyeol narrows his eyes and leans closer to Yifan. Yifan’s about to open his mouth to tell him to fuck off, but Chanyeol swiftly closes the gap and Yifan freezes, everything a blank except for the taste and feel of Chanyeol's lips against his.

When Chanyeol finally pulls away, he mutters, “I was trying to be normal so you would stop hating me. But I guess I fucked that up too.”

Before Yifan can muster up a witty retort, Chanyeol gets to his feet, grabs his bag and literally dashes out the back door, pausing by Sehun and Lu Han’s table for five seconds on the way. He’s gone by the time Yifan snaps out of his daze, gets to his feet and runs over to the door.

He’s almost at the door when Oh Sehun steps out, directly in his path. Yifan shoots a look at Lu Han and mouths get him out of the way before I murder him in Chinese, as Sehun launches into a monologue. Lu Han returns the look and mouths I’ll murder you if you do.

Yifan sighs and turns his attention back to Sehun, who’s finishing his speech with flourish. “If you hurt him, I will be… really mad at you.”

He rolls his eyes and side steps Sehun, dashing out the door.

He makes a mental note to talk to Lu Han on a later date about upgrading his taste in other halfs, though he probably isn’t in much of an appropriate position to criticise Lu Han for falling for an idiot.

-

Classroom 245.

Yifan slides his phone back into his pocket and pushes the door open. Yixing waves at him and shoots him a bright smile, before he pats Chanyeol’s back repeatedly as Chanyeol chokes on his chips.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk then,” Yixing says and gets to his feet.

“Thanks,” Yifan mumbles as Yixing walks pass him.

Yixing wrinkles his nose and teases, “Please play nice.”

He mock-punches Yixing and shoves him out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him, before he turns to face Chanyeol.

Chanyeol scrambles and reaches for another bag of chips, fumbling to open it with shaking hands. Yifan takes slow, cautious steps to Chanyeol and plucks the bag of chips out of his hand, setting it on the table in front of him.

Yifan sits down in the chair in front of Chanyeol, planting his palms firmly on the desk between them. “Chanyeol,” he begins.

Chanyeol jumps a little and blurts out, “I know you’re really mad at me because I’m so impulsive and I throw everything in your life off-track. And god, I’m such an idiot for doing that in front of Sehun and Lu Han. I mean Sehun wouldn’t care, but Lu Han –”

“Chanyeol, can you just –”

“I know, I’m talking too much again. Just, please don’t yell at me!” Chanyeol exclaims and covers his face with his hands.

Yifan blinks and tries not to laugh at the sight before him. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand and attempts to calm his laughter. Across him, Chanyeol slowly removes his hands from his face and stares at Yifan, blinking slowly.

Yifan inhales and tries to compose himself, before he shakes his head and mumbles, “I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t understand,” Chanyeol responds.

“I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol blinks at him in confusion. Yifan continues, “I’m sorry for being a hypocrite. For not having the courage to tell you how I feel about you. For constantly taking from you, but not giving you anything in return.”

“Does this mean…” Chanyeol trails off and he leans in tentatively towards Yifan.

Yifan smiles at Chanyeol and closes the gap between them, letting his lips slide across Chanyeol’s softly, laughing into the kiss when Chanyeol starts getting a little teeth happy. It isn't slow, it isn't fast; it isn't intense, it isn't soft; it's all just right - one half to the other, even if stupid test results show that Yellows and Greens are opposites. (Hey, opposites attract, right?)

Yifan is almost reluctant to pull apart, resting his forehead against Chanyeol's, their lips still brushing as he spoke. “Promise me you won’t be anything but yourself around me,” he says. “Please just be that crazy Yellow guy who creeped the hell out of me and forced me to fall for him.”

Chanyeol laughs loudly in return, nodding readily.

Yifan thinks Chanyeol will possibly drive him insane in the near future, but he supposes he can get used to all this.

-

“Please wipe that disgusting smile off your face,” Lu Han complains and he flings eraser dust at Yifan.

Yixing laughs good-naturedly in the background and pats Yifan on the back comfortingly, while Yifan glares at Lu Han for trying to ruin his complexion. Yixing leans close to Yifan and whispers, “He’s just bitter because you’re finally receptive to Yellow’s moves, but Blue’s not showing any reception to his moves.”

A black pencil case comes flying in their direction this time round and Yixing ducks just in time for it to hit Yifan’s face. Lu Han sticks out his tongue as Yixing throws the pencil case back at him and misses narrowly.

Yifan rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to his phone.

From: Chanyeol
Sehun told me Lu Han’s applying for a transfer? Sehun’s been more dazed lately than he usually is.

Yifan glances up, eyes darting between Yixing and Lu Han, before he types a reply to Chanyeol.

From: Yifan
What do you think about playing Cupid?

Lu Han’s staring at him when he looks up from his phone. He makes a mock-puking motion when Yifan glances over at him and Yifan makes the biggest unceremonial roll of his eyes at him.

-

“Sorry I’m late!” Chanyeol exclaims as he slides into the seat next to Yifan and tosses him a brilliant smile.

Yifan shrugs as Baekhyun raises an eyebrow and says, “Alright, now that we’re all here, can you explain why you would possibly be asking Kyungsoo and I to play gooseberry at your date?”

Kyungsoo flushes bright red next to Baekhyun and nods slowly. Yifan smiles at Chanyeol and gives him a nod, before Chanyeol clasps his hands together and says, “Lu Han’s getting transferred to another school in five days.”

Baekhyun blinks at him. “Okay… I’m aware of that, but what has it got to do with anything?”

“Sehun’s too much of a coward to confess to him, so I was thinking maybe he needs a shove from us,” Chanyeol finishes happily and accepts the glass of fruit juice that Yifan hands him.

There’s a short pause from Baekhyun, who simply leans back in his chair and sips his iced coffee thoughtfully. Yifan shrugs and presses on, “Any ideas?”

“If we force him to a corner, he’ll probably get enough courage through sheer desperation,” Kyungsoo pipes up softly, causing Baekhyun to choke.

Chanyeol’s eyes light up as he claps happily and points at Kyungsoo excitedly, exclaiming, “Yes, that’s a brilliant idea!”

Baekhyun stops coughing long enough to give Kyungsoo a loving pat on the head and Yifan momentarily facepalms. He’s working with three idiots to matchmake two idiots. He begins to seriously wonder when his life took such a tragic turn.

-

Kyungsoo’s sure-to-fail idea, as Yifan likes to call it in front of Chanyeol, actually works.

It, however, doesn’t stop Lu Han from packing, with Sehun helping him and hanging on to his every word on the day of his departure. Yifan makes sure to plaster on the most unimpressed face he can master as Chanyeol drags him over – he’s still not particularly pleased that Oh Sehun dares to tell him off for lacking the guts to confess to Chanyeol when he fails to confess to Lu Han, despite the date they went on.

After Chanyeol’s left with Sehun to get food, Yifan stares at Lu Han and comments, “So, what’s the status now?”

Lu Han doesn’t look up from the cardboard boxes and just shrugs, answering, “It’s not like I expected a confession or anything from him. I might have fainted from shock if he did.”

Yifan laughs and tosses a couple of Lu Han’s books into the nearby cardboard box. “Hey, he’ll confess eventually. Give and take a couple of years.”

Lu Han laughs and punches his arm, before smiling softly. “Yeah, maybe he will.”

-

You can go be a fortune teller, is what Lu Han texts him after Sehun and Chanyeol’s graduation ceremony has ended.

Sehun and Lu Han had disappeared in the blink of an eye the moment Chanyeol appeared with a cake and tried to smash pieces of it into everyone’s face, only stopping when he reaches Yifan who simply glares at him.

Yifan laughs and types a quick congrats to Lu Han, before showing Chanyeol the contents of Lu Han’s text. This results in a dramatic flailing scene from Chanyeol for the succeeding five minutes, with loud exclamations of how his Sehuna has grown up. He only shuts up when Yifan kisses him on the lips, causing Baekhyun to shriek and fling pieces of cake at them, telling them to learn a lesson on decency from Lu Han and Sehun and get a fucking room.

Chanyeol pulls away and plucks out bits of cake from Yifan’s hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as Yifan returns a smile.

These days, Yifan can barely keep track of what’s happening in the present with Chanyeol; much less plan a detailed schedule of his day.

But he supposes he’s alright with this as well.

-

okay firstly, to timeshaker-sama, i hope i did not disappoint!!! ;w; and i genuinely hope that you enjoyed this/ this was what you intended when you wrote the original fic with the sehan focus. thank you for being such a sweet sweet person and for cheering me on with rl issues, along with supporting me as i drag my feet through writing this fic TT____TT ♥

and thank you to cityscape for beta-ing! idc what you say chels, you're the person who completes my fics, the one who adds the little sparkles to my otherwise plain work. thank you for always putting up with my terrible unreadable fics and for ploughing through a few thousand words every single time. you're the loveliest ♥

also, thank you to hoaegi for listening to me whine and for forcing me to write when i just want to play pokemon instead ;w; though i don't appreciate you threatening to kill sehun if i don't write, shushu ;~~~; ♥

lastly, thanks to kim_ri for helping me check the initial krisyeol interactions and for holding my hand through the whole fic ;~~~; also, credits to her for the title of the fic :D love you, cough partner~~~ ♥

develop - part ii

equalises — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 14:16:35 GMT

♥

It appears the next day.

Wu Fan tries not to rip the paper in Baekhyun’s hands, when Baekhyun folds it carefully upon his arrival. Chanyeol cringes slightly and makes a small motion behind Wu Fan to Baekhyun. Remove it. Wu Fan rolls his eyes, he’s learned their lingo over the years. They either get less obvious or get new signs if they intended to talk about him in his presence.

“Shoot’s cancelled today.”

Wu Fan jumps slightly as the dreaded newspaper lands before him, atop his bag and Joonmyeon leans against the mirror. He tries to avert Joonmyeon’s eyes, settling for shifting the paper off his bag and digging for his phone.

Fifty-eight missed calls. Fuck.

His phone vibrates in his hand and Wu Fan stares at it helplessly. Chanyeol sighs and whips it from his hand. “Just let me handle all this, Fan.”

Wu Fan nods silently and stares at the pathetic reflection blinking back at him. Joonmyeon’s still observing him carefully, before he places a hand on Wu Fan’s shoulder and says, “I believe you, for the record.”

He doesn’t look at Joonmyeon, he’s too fixated with the absolutely useless creature that is blinking back at him from behind the mirror. Joonmyeon continues, “It’s just that, everything’s really messy right now, Wu Fan. Moreover, they got a photo of the entire event, and well, a picture speaks a thousand words… I… Just let Chanyeol and I handle this, alright?”

Wu Fan nods and grabs his bag, almost knocking over Zitao’s huge bag of brushes, as he turns and Zitao engulfs him in a hug. Wu Fan exhales and lets his arms hang limply when Zitao lets go of him and brushes his blonde fringe away from his eyes.

“Kris, actually can you come with me to check out some locations for shooting?”

Yixing strides over, hands tucked in his pants pocket, a small smile in place. Wu Fan makes a face, just as Joonmyeon clasps his hands together and says happily, “That would be excellent! It can help Kris take his mind off things.”

Wu Fan stares helplessly at Chanyeol, who pretends not to notice his despair and tosses him a spare phone with a cluck of his tongue.

“Sure,” he sighs in resignation.

-

“Why are you doing this?”

From the corner of his eyes, Wu Fan sees Yixing throw a glance at him before his eyes return to the road. “I just think it’ll be good to use settings that my model is happy with. Things will appear more natural that way.”

“I can take anything thrown my way,” Wu Fan mutters under his breath, eyes still focused on the trees zipping by.

A dull silence ensues and Wu Fan reaches for his phone just as Yixing says softly, “I just wanted to take your mind off things.”

He pauses, fumbles around with his thoughts and replies, “Thanks.”

And he does it again. Wu Fan leaves his phone in his bag, mind whirling with thoughts, because this can’t possibly be the same guy that tabloids portray as a douchebag. It’s almost as though they’ve been forced back to how things were a year ago, that this was the Yixing he had grown to admire and care for, and suddenly, Wu Fan’s falling, falling, falling all over again.

He shakes his head, tries to shake the theories loose from his mind. None of this should be his top priority right now, he supposes.

“You coming?”

Yixing grins at him and opens the car door for him. Wu Fan blinks before he leaves his bag on the passenger seat and steps out, stretching from the long car ride.

Yixing’s leaning against a railing overseeing a lake at least ten meters down, a light smile toying his lips, when Wu Fan joins him. They stand in companionable silence before Wu Fan clears his throat and says, “You really like taking pictures of nature, don’t you?”

“I do,” Yixing admits with a soft laugh. “I think it’s beautiful. More so than all those props that are overused in photo shoots.”

Wu Fan smiles and stares at the lake, tries to remember the way the light had reflected off the water of the Niagara Falls in Canada when his parents had brought him there as a child. He tries to remember their faces, the look on their faces, the laughs that were buried by the fast flow of the water, and he smiles unconsciously at the way these memories are carved into his heart, despite the current distance between all three of them.

Click. He blinks and turns to the right, just in time to see Yixing lower his camera and whisper, “Perfect.”

He makes a face at Yixing, because he hates surprises and being caught off guard. Yixing smiles at him, dimples showing, and apologises, “Professional habit.”

Wu Fan leans over and peers at the screen of Yixing’s camera. His breath catches when he sees the photo and he fleetingly understands why Joonmyeon’s been so insistent about getting Yixing to do shots for him.

“Joonmyeon wasn’t exaggerating about your skills.”

Yixing flushes slightly at this and he shakes his head. “It only looks good because of the raw emotion in the model. I’m merely a messenger, capturing the image and conveying it to the public.”

Wu Fan smiles and looks back at the lake with a nod. “This is a perfect location.”

-

Yixing waves his hand around and bounces slightly in his seat as a dark-haired guy slides over with a notepad. The boy smiles at Yixing and asks, “The usual?”

Yixing nods, as Wu Fan continues to stare the guy down and racks his memory for where he has seen that face before. He shrugs it off when the guy scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and blinks at him, before saying politely, smile wiped from his sharp features, “Can I help you?”

Wu Fan shakes his head and turns to stare out the window, as Yixing waves the guy off.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Wu Fan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, tell that to Joonmyeon, not me.”

Yixing bends over with laughter, brushing his hair out of his face as the guy returns with a tray and places two cups of coffee in front of them.

Wu Fan ignores the way Yixing’s still smiling at him, ignores the slight way his heart skips when Yixing laughs, and stirs his coffee, taking a small sip. Yixing stares at him, smiles and whispers, so softly that Wu Fan almost misses it, “Black coffee, no sugar.”

He tries to steady his shaking fingers as he sets the cup back down on his saucer and pretends that he didn’t hear a thing. Wu Fan inhales shakily, heart racing, mind whirling with the possibilities of what if.

Yixing tips two packets of sugar into his cup and stirs his coffee, before taking a sip and exhaling satisfactorily. Wu Fan watches and hides a smile behind the back of his hand, just as the guy reappears and sets a huge plate of chocolates before them.

“I didn’t order such a huge plate, Jongin-ah.”

Jongin grins and shrugs. “It’s on the house. We owe it to you for our booming business now.”

Yixing waves it off with a hand and says, “I didn’t do much. You’re a natural at this.”

“Please, you didn’t even charge us for taking the photo and getting Lu Han to find sponsors to put it up. The least we can do is give you something you actually like.”

Wu Fan stares with slight amusement as Yixing laughs and hits Jongin’s hand lightly, his heart bursting with little sparks of warmth, willing him to believe what his mind has stopped trusting a couple of months back. That nothing’s changed, that Baekhyun’s right, that Wu Fan didn’t misjudge, that –

He shakes the thoughts out of his mind and takes a large sip of his coffee, almost scalding his tongue as the hot liquid is tipped into his mouth.

Wu Fan covers his mouth with his hand, trying to blink back tears prickling at the corner of his eyes from the burn. He glances up and narrows his eyes, watching the way Yixing’s hand rests on Jongin’s waist as he laughs, heart clenching unhappily at the ease of Jongin-ah slipping off Yixing’s tongue, while he remains as Kris. Just Kris.

When Jongin finally leaves, with a flash of his pink tongue at Yixing, Yixing signals to the chocolate and exclaims, “Eat! It tastes really nice with coffee, and it always helps me find inspiration.”

Wu Fan frowns, still trying to bury the dissatisfaction he feels, before he takes a piece hesitantly and pops it into his mouth, letting it mix with the bitter after-taste of his black coffee. He chews slowly, relishing the explosion of flavor on his taste buds and mentally approving of Yixing’s weird food choice.

Yixing cocks his head to the side and chirps, “It tastes good, doesn’t it? Two distinctly different things giving rise to such a wonderful product.”

Just like you and me, Wu Fan thinks, before he shakes the weird thought out of his mind, Chanyeol’s words nagging at the back of his head. Instead, he chooses to nod, letting his teeth chew on his lower lip. He looks up when he hears a light thud and sees a piece of chocolate on Yixing’s plate, his mouth half open.

“What’s wrong?”

Yixing exhales and blinks, looking away as he pushes his fringe out of his eyes. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

Wu Fan frowns, not missing the red that’s creeping up on Yixing’s cheeks and the way Yixing purposely averts his eyes, body angled away from him. He is about to press Yixing for answers, but freezes instead.

Isn’t that Kris? Did you hear about his scandal?

He’s out of his seat in a flash, and he takes large strides back to Yixing’s car, ignoring the murmurs around him and the finger pointing. It’s all in my mind, he repeats to himself again and again until he’s almost running. Yixing’s by his side in a heartbeat, hand on his back as he opens the car door and shoves Wu Fan inside.

“I’m sorry,” Yixing apologises when they’re a good distance away from the café. “It’s just chocolates always make me happy and I thought –“

“It’s fine,” Wu Fan interrupts, chest heaving as he tries to clear his mind of the echoes of the voices. “Your heart’s in the right place.”

He tries to ignore the way Yixing’s eyes flicker over to him and pretends he doesn’t notice the way Yixing’s face colours with joy, as he smiles and turns his eyes back to the road.

Wu Fan presses fingers to his temples and shuts his eyes.

It needs to stop. He’s spent years building up this façade of perfection, of perfecting the mask of concealing all his emotions, and it takes just three weeks for Yixing to cross the barrier and break the mask.

He really doesn’t know what’s worse; the fact that his career might just be flying out the window if Chanyeol can’t settle this amicably, or that he’s challenging everything he’s believed in for the past year with the re-appearance of Zhang Yixing.

-

“It’s not right,” Yixing huffs in annoyance as he runs fingers through his hair.

Sehun stares at him helplessly and flails a little, as Yixing tries to change the angle of the camera for the fifth time in twenty minutes. Wu Fan exhales and settles down on the chair that Chanyeol offers him, staring at the depths of chlorinated water before him. He adjusts the collar of his shirt and counts the tiny ripples on the surface of the private pool they rented, awaiting further instructions.

“Should we get another location?” Lu Han asks with concern, as he watches Yixing throw his hands up in frustration two minutes later.

Yixing shakes his head, eyes not leaving the pool, and answers, “No, it’s better for Kris to stay out of public eye for now until Joonmyeon’s figured out how to deal with this crisis. I’ll make it work, just let me think.”

Wu Fan cringes slightly, eyes downcast as he wrings his hands, and Chanyeol pats his hair lightly. It’s not your fault, stop beating yourself up over it. He returns the smile and Chanyeol beams at him, picking at strands of his hair and smoothing them out on his head.

“Kris, can you swim?”

He blinks and glances at Yixing, before nodding slowly. Yixing smiles and continues, “Good, get in the pool.”

“What?”

“We’ll shoot this from underwater and see if it gets the intended effect that’s in my head.” Yixing finishes, as he reaches into his bag for a different lens.

Wu Fan exchanges a look with Chanyeol, who simply shrugs, before he gets up and slowly descends into the water. He makes a face slightly, already not liking the feel of Baekhyun’s precious Armani clinging to his skin, and glances up with slight irritation to see Lu Han clutching Yixing’s arm tightly.

“No, you can’t do this. As your manager –“

“As my manager, you take care of sealing my deals,” Yixing finishes as he fixes the lens onto his camera, eyebrows creased with concentration.

Lu Han pushes a finger under his jaw and forces Yixing to look at him, and hisses, “As your best friend, I’m disallowing you to do this.”

Yixing rolls his eyes and swats Lu Han’s hand away. “I’ve got it under control, please. And I’m working, Lu Han.”

He side steps Lu Han easily and follows Wu Fan’s slow descend into the water, ignoring Lu Han’s nagging and gasps. Wu Fan frowns at him and asks, “Are you sure this is alright? We can just –“

“It’s fine,” Yixing cuts him off. “Okay, submerge yourself fully and I’ll try some shots.”

Wu Fan shrugs and takes a deep breath, before he plunges into the water. He tries to move, but his limbs feel sluggish and he settles for just relaxing his body as Yixing snaps away.

When he emerges and takes in gulps of oxygen, Yixing waddles over to him, at a pace slower than his usual walking pace, and asks, “What do you think?”

Wu Fan stares at the tiny screen, watches as Yixing’s fingers press the direction keys to scroll through the photos, a small wave of surprise hitting him at how natural the photos look. He clears his throat awkwardly when Yixing blinks at him and cocks his head to one side, before Wu Fan gives him a slight nod.

Yixing beams at him and says, “Alright, then let’s take a couple more and we’ll sift out the ones you’re uncomfortable with once we’re done with all the shots.”

“Lay.”

Wu Fan glances at the surface and sees Lu Han’s lips pressed into a tight line, the look on his face not unlike the countless ones that Chanyeol always fires at him. Yixing doesn’t look up, choosing to fidget with the tiny buttons on his camera instead. Even Sehun’s squatting at the ledge, mumbling words that are drowned out by the tick sounds Yixing’s camera makes when he presses the scroll button.

Wu Fan stares at Yixing and finally mutters, “Is this really okay? Sehun and Lu Han –“

“It’s fine,” Yixing says, eyes not leaving the screen of his camera. “Can you get under the water? Let’s get this over with before you catch a cold.”

-

The shot takes a longer time than expected and Wu Fan’s shivering by the time he gets back to dry land, the white shirt totally clinging to his frame. Chanyeol ambushes him with a towel and wraps it around him, and Wu Fan watches Yixing climb out of the pool, before he starts toweling his hair dry.

“Unf.”

Wu Fan jumps a little and turns in the direction of Lu Han, just in time to see Yixing collapse to the ground, dragging Lu Han with him. He pauses for a second before running over to Yixing, letting the towel slip off his shoulders to the ground. Wu Fan’s by Yixing’s side as Lu Han rolls up the pants on Yixing’s right leg, his eyes shining with moisture, as he nags, “You idiot, I told you not to –“

“I’m fine, it’s nothing, really.”

Lu Han glares at Yixing and yells, “Don’t tell me it’s nothing when you look like this! I can’t even take care of you –“

“Are you injured?”

Lu Han falls silent as Wu Fan bends down next to him, pushing up Yixing’s pants further. Yixing halts his movement and stammers, “It’s fine, really!”

Wu Fan ignores him and pushes it up further, his breath hitching when his eyes land on the deep cut in Yixing’s leg and the red staining his fingers. Sehun appears beside him and hands Lu Han a first-aid kit, which he starts rummaging instantly.

“Is this why you’ve been turning down shots for the past few months? You can’t touch water or do anything that strains your leg, can you?”

Yixing bites his bottom lip, but doesn’t give a reply. Wu Fan continues to stare him down, lets the tension hang densely between them, before Sehun blurts out from his left, “Lay got injured during a shot for Natural Life a couple months back, so he can’t do any shots that are water-related or strenuous and –“

“That’s enough, Sehun.”

Sehun puffs out his cheeks and huffs indignantly, “Kris, of all people, deserves to know. He should be the last person that you want to have a misconception of you.”

And it dawns on him. Wu Fan watches as Lu Han presses antiseptic cream into Yixing’s wound, watches the way Yixing’s lashes flutter and the way his teeth digs into his lower lip as his hands form little fists. Taking one for the team, doing whatever it takes to make him look good and to protect his feelings.

He smiles at Yixing and gets to his feet. “You haven’t changed a single bit.”

Yixing stares up at him and gives him a slightly puzzled face, as Wu Fan continues, “You still believe in taking one for the team. And I’ve been included in this team, haven’t I, Zhang Yixing?”

Yixing’s eyes widen and Lu Han nearly drops the cotton bud in his hands as Wu Fan walks away. Chanyeol’s beaming so widely that his lips look like they’re about to split and Wu Fan gives him a punch in the shoulder, effectively shutting him up before he can embarrass him.

-

Wu Fan presses fingers to his temples, rubbing slow circles into it before he punches Chanyeol’s thigh and grumbles, “Stop smiling to yourself. It’s creepy.”

Chanyeol laughs and pouts slightly. “Aww come on, Fan. Distract me while I’m driving and risk losing your life.”

He ignores Chanyeol and distracts himself by fidgeting with his phone, nearly flinging it out of the window when he sees five texts from Baekhyun, teasing him endlessly. He’s never going to hear the end of this, he decides with finality when he receives the sixth text, along with one from Zitao.

“I told you to give him a chance,” Chanyeol hums as he makes a right turn.

Wu Fan rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, the image of Yixing’s scar still burnt into his memory. He twirls the phone between his fingers and finally says, “Fine, so he isn’t an arrogant asshole. It doesn’t explain why he wouldn’t clear those misconceptions.”

A dull hum resonates through the car and Wu Fan knows Chanyeol’s weighing the impacts of his impending words.

When Chanyeol finally looks at him, he gives Wu Fan a small smile and asks, “Does it matter to you?”

“What, why would it? I mean –“

“Fan,” Chanyeol interrupts, his eyes back on the road, although the smile never leaves his face. “I don’t know who you think you’re lying to, but the look on your face when Yixing collapsed to the ground gave your heart away.”

Wu Fan rubs the back of his neck and averts Chanyeol’s side-glances. “My face was perfectly serene.”

Chanyeol snorts. “Sure, you just looked like someone threw away all your old-fashioned shirts.”

“My shirts are perfect.”

“The media thinks otherwise,” Chanyeol deadpans. “And stop changing the subject, Fan.”

Wu Fan makes an uncommitted sound and folds his arms across his chest. He hears Chanyeol choke back a laugh from his right and he ignores it, opting to hold his head high.

The words don’t really leave him until he falls asleep that night, but he’ll never give anyone – Chanyeol, Baekhyun or Taozi – the satisfaction of knowing that.

-

Wu Fan glances up as Chanyeol chucks a copy of today’s paper before him. He shakes his head and shoves the paper back to Chanyeol, eyes still fixated on his schedule for the day. The last thing he needs to see is more speculations on the future of his career and in-depth analysis of his personality, or the apparent lack of it considering he ‘stole’ someone’s girlfriend.

“Just take a look, I promise you won’t regret it.”

He sighs, knowing that Chanyeol wouldn’t leave him alone otherwise, and picks up the paper.

”Kris Wu misunderstood!” Says Lay.

His eyes widen as he flips to the two-paged article on him, eyes skimming over the tiny print at top speed, jaw going slack with each word. He stands up from his chair and straightens his black jacket as he hears a cheery ‘good morning’ drifting from his right.

“Why?” He asks as he steps right into Yixing’s path, effectively blocking him from Sehun, and shoves the paper into his face.

Yixing blinks at him and chews on his bottom lip. He exhales before answering, “They deserve to know the type of person you really are.”

“And you don’t deserve the same?”

“It’s different.”

“How is it –“

“You’ve worked too hard for this to just let it be taken away like this!” Yixing exclaims, before he shrinks back slightly and drops his bag on the ground.

Lu Han shoots him a look from where he’s standing, next to Chanyeol, before he shoos the rest of the crew away. Chanyeol gives Wu Fan a small smile, before he walks off chatting with Lu Han. Give him a chance, Fan.

Yixing inhales deeply and continues, “It’s just. This is a scandal and you’ll be seen as a flirt, a casual person. That’s just… not you, Kris. And it’s wrong.”

Wu Fan takes a step towards Yixing, and Yixing shrinks back slightly at the way Wu Fan towers over him. “But it doesn’t matter that reporters call you arrogant, and accuse you of being a hot shot, when you’re the type of person who would injure yourself just to help others look good?”

Yixing swallows. “I can still get jobs despite what others say, but your career will be over with that scandal.”

Wu Fan stares at him, heart clenching at Yixing’s words, at the way he tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth to the point that Wu Fan can see his dimple. He smiles and ruffles Yixing’s hair gently, letting his fingers sink into the soft red locks, and says, “I knew I was right about you a year back.”

The smile that Yixing returns him is enough for Wu Fan to realise their close proximity, and he pulls away, muttering something about needing to suit up for their photo shoot, before disappearing.

He tries to ignore the way Chanyeol waggles his eyebrows at him and the way Sehun and Lu Han were jabbing each other while giggling. He’s just being grateful, nothing more. If he repeats this a couple more times, Wu Fan thinks he might just believe it.

-

Wu Fan tries to focus on the way his face is angled towards the camera, instead of the way Chanyeol keeps throwing him weird signals that he fails to understand for once.

After a while, Yixing puts down the camera and walks towards him. “Your tie’s slanted,” he says with a soft laugh.

Oh, Wu Fan thinks as he sees Chanyeol nod vigorously and gesture more towards his neck. In his defense, Chanyeol looked like he was telling Wu Fan to chop off his neck than to adjust his tie.

He touches the top of his tie, twisting it slightly, but it only earns him more laughs from Yixing.

“Let me help you with that,” Yixing mumbles, before his fingers are sliding into the gaps between Kris’s, twisting the tie slightly before he pulls away. “Perfect.”

You are, Wu Fan wants to say at the sight of Yixing’s smile and the way the sunlight hits his hair, making it sparkle. He bites back the words and mumbles, “Thanks.”

Yixing gives him a small smile and returns to retrieve his camera from Lu Han, who proceeds to jab him in the ribs almost immediately, a blush creeping to his cheeks. “Let’s continue,” Yixing says and promptly ignores a giggling Sehun and Lu Han.

Wu Fan nods and turns his attention back to Yixing, watches the way his fringe falls into his eyes as he ducks behind the camera. He watches the way Yixing’s fingers click away deftly at the camera, remembering the warmth that spread through him when they brushed against his.

“Kris.”

He blinks and sees Yixing looking at him in concern as he lowers his camera. “Is everything alright? Do you want to take a break? You look a little… flushed.”

He hears Chanyeol stifle a laugh, failing miserably, and shakes his head quickly, ducking his head away from Yixing’s prying eyes. He hears a soft sigh before Yixing continues, “Okay, if you’re sure.”

Wu Fan nods again before exhales and tries to clear his mind as he focuses on the lens of Yixing’s camera, purposely averting his eyes, as he repeats it’s not love silently. But, he’s not sure who he’s trying to fool anymore.

-

“It’s a little messy,” Yixing mutters as he steps over a pile of shoes in his apartment.

Wu Fan shrugs and takes a look around, wrinkling his nose and saying, “Yeah, you haven’t seen Chanyeol’s apartment.”

This earns him a loud laugh from Yixing, while Yixing scurries around, picking up notebooks strewn haphazardly on the ground. Wu Fan hums under his breath and says, “It really doesn’t matter, Yixing. Just leave things where they are.”

Yixing flails a little and lets a notebook drop from his grasp. “Oh right, I’m supposed to let you sift through the photos that we took so you can eliminate some that you don’t want to be used in the photo book.”

Wu Fan nods slowly and raises an eyebrow as Yixing turns and walks to his room, calling out over his shoulder, “Just make yourself at home.”

He stands motionless for a couple of minutes, before he shifts around Yixing’s living room, picking up balls of paper and tossing them into the trash can. Might as well, he figures since he’s used to cleaning up after Chanyeol’s filth anyway.

His gaze falls on a neat stack of magazines that he almost knocks over in his hastiness to tidy up. Wu Fan picks up the top one and blinks at the cover. Cool Men August 2012; the one with him on the cover. Wu Fan stares at the one below and sees His World January 2012. He inhales sharply, dropping to his knees as he flips through the stack, head whirling with possibilities and heart in his throat when he sees himself on every cover.

“It’s going to take a while to boot up my laptop cause it’s updating,” Yixing says, voice getting increasingly loud as he makes his way back to the living room.

Wu Fan hurriedly stacks the magazine back into a neat pile, gets to his feet and walks away from them casually, hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans.

Yixing reappears in the living room and blinks. “Did you clean my living room for me?”

“It was messy and I didn’t have anything to do anyway,” Wu Fan answers with a shrug.

Yixing’s cheeks tint a light pink at that and he pushes his laptop to Wu Fan, exclaiming, “Right, I should at least get you a drink or something, to redeem the fact that I’m a terrible host! Anything in particular that you want?”

“Water is fine?”

Yixing makes a face at him and says, “How about Jasmine tea? I have a couple of packets from a friend in China.”

Wu Fan sighs and nods, when he sees the sheer determination on Yixing’s face. Yixing beams happily and pads off to the kitchen while Wu Fan stares at the starting up displayed on the screen of his laptop.

He laughs under his breath and fiddles with the computer, staring at Yixing’s wallpaper depicting him with the staff that he had grown to like over the past one and a half months.

“I’ve categorised all the photos under the most recently opened folder. Just open it and scroll through it first,” Yixing calls from the kitchen.

He blinks, lost at the many icons on Yixing’s Macbook, before he sees a folder labeled Kris and he clicks on it. The folder appears in a tiny pop-up and Wu Fan’s jaw goes slack, his fingers losing their grip on the mouse.

These are all shots that he never posed for, shots of him smiling, of him hitting Baekhyun and laughing, of him talking to Chanyeol, and Wu Fan finds the strength to scroll through the file, before he hears a loud gasp from behind him.

In a flash, Yixing’s set the tray on the table, and slid in between Wu Fan and his laptop, hand slamming down the cover of the laptop. He exhales, eyes averting Wu Fan’s and stammers, “You’re not supposed to see that.”

“Why do you have those?”

Yixing doesn’t look at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Wu Fan gets to his feet and says, “And those magazines in a stack over there?”

“Stop raiding my stuff,” Yixing defends, as he rakes his fingers through his hair – a nervous habit, Wu Fan’s come to realise.

Wu Fan catches his hand midway through his hair mussing, and tugs him closer, as his voice drops to a whisper, “Do you like me?”

When Yixing stares at him, eyes wide and filled with bewilderment, Wu Fan continues, with a slight tremor in his voice, pulse roaring in his ears, “Because I think I kind of really like you, Zhang Yixing.”

He feels Yixing still under him, and Wu Fan panics momentarily at the severity of his words, before he feels warm lips against his. He closes his eyes and relaxes into Yixing’s touch, relishes the gentle press of Yixing’s lips against his, losing himself in the moment.

When they pull apart, Yixing stares at him cautiously and asks, “Was that too abrupt?”

Wu Fan smiles. “No. No, it was perfect, Yixing.”

-

Things don’t really change much, and Chanyeol laughs at him in glee at every moment he gets, much to Wu Fan’s annoyance.

“Ask him out on a proper date, Fan, god.” Chanyeol repeats for the tenth time in a week.

Wu Fan rolls his eyes and mutters, “We’re not even together or –“

“You guys are not what?” Chanyeol screams and nearly falls off his chair.

Wu Fan blinks and looks down at his hands, stares at the multiple rings on them, twisting them slightly around his fingers, and mumbles, “As in, we’re not official and stuff.”

When Chanyeol stays quiet, Wu Fan wills himself to look up and he winces slightly at the look Chanyeol fixes him with. “So what are you waiting for?”

“Um, we’ll see alright?”

Chanyeol stares at him before he breaks into a sinister smile that sends shivers up Wu Fan’s spine. “Sure, it’s the annual awards show for photographers tonight anyway. And Lu Han’s kindly sent us an invite.”

Fuck, Wu Fan curses as he watches Chanyeol walk away, whistling one of Girls’ Generation’s new songs.

-

He arrives just when SHINee is closing the show with their newest song and slides into the seat next to Sehun. Sehun raises an eyebrow at him and nudges Lu Han next to him, before they both stare at Wu Fan and burst into giggles.

From his right, Chanyeol joins in the giggling and Wu Fan rolls his eyes, turning to nudge Sehun to shut up, before his eyes lock with Yixing’s and his arm freezes midair. Yixing gives him a soft smile and turns his attention back to the glimmering star trophy in his hand, tracing its outline with his fingers.

When Wu Fan finally regains his senses, Chanyeol looks like he’s about to die laughing as he exchanges looks with Sehun and Lu Han. Wu Fan’s secretly glad he decided to be fashionably late as he counts down silently to the end of the ceremony and his prolonged torture.

-

It’s a bad idea.

He should have realised that Chanyeol is filled with nothing but bad ideas, at least when parties are concerned. He watches helplessly as Yixing drape himself over Lu Han, eyes half-lidded, head thrown back joyously as Lu Han whispers into his ear, trying to ignore the rising annoyance in his chest.

“Go talk to him,” Baekhyun comments as he slides into the booth, next to Wu Fan and hands him a glass of brandy.

Wu Fan swirls the liquid around, and takes a small sip, wincing slightly at the burn that runs down his throat and mentally adds brandy to the list of drinks to stay away from. “It’s his night, he probably wants to celebrate it with his manager more than anyone else.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and finishes his liquor, answering, “You know it’s you that he wants to wake up next to in the morning. That is, if he gets desperate enough.”

This leads to vigorous coughing from Wu Fan as he blinks tears out of his eyes and places the brandy glass down. Baekhyun laughs and gives him pats on the back, eyes widening slightly before sliding out of the booth abruptly.

The confusion he leaves Wu Fan with lasts for about five seconds, before Yixing slides into the booth and presses himself into Wu Fan’s side, hand resting on Wu Fan’s thigh. Wu Fan freezes, the after-burn of liquor mixed with Yixing’s sweet scent too intoxicating for his senses.

Yixing curls closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Why were you so late? You missed seeing me receive my award from SHINee. The five most amazing guys in the Korean industry. It was like a dream, Kris.”

When Wu Fan doesn’t reply and tries to shrug Yixing’s head off his shoulder, with mumbles of you’re drunk, Yixing throws back his head and laughs, eyes bright. “Are you jealous?”

Wu Fan ignores him and downs the rest of his brandy – anything to distract him from the want curling beneath his fingers to pin Yixing against the table and kiss him senseless. Yixing traces light patterns on his thigh and Wu Fan squirms slightly, heat rushing down furiously to his cock. He tries to push Yixing’s hand off just as Yixing grabs his hand and says, “Don’t be. You know I only have eyes for you.”

He freezes, his fingers clamping tightly to Yixing’s hand for a split second, before he pulls away and gets out of the booth, chest heaving with each step.

There’s no way anyone should trust him enough to leave him alone with a drunk Yixing. Lu Han cocks his head to one side, pausing mid-dance with Sehun, and Wu Fan gives him a smile, mouths toilet and disappears into the crowd.

He’s not drunk enough for this shit.

-

“We’re here,” Wu Fan mumbles and reaches across to unbuckle Yixing’s seat belt.

Yixing blinks at him with sleepy eyes and a dazed smile as Wu Fan helps him out of the car. He mentally curses Lu Han for leaving him with a partially drunk Yixing home so he could go dating with Sehun, knowing that Wu Fan wouldn’t have the heart to just abandon Yixing at a club.

Yixing’s body is warm against his side as he helps him unlock the door and make his way to Yixing’s bedroom. He tries to keep his breathing even and clear his mind of thoughts of Yixing hot and drunk, squirming beneath him as he presses bruises into his thighs, bite red marks into his neck and let the world know that Yixing is his, all the while ignoring the bulge pressing against his pants uncomfortably.

“Wu Fan,” Yixing mumbles as his legs stop walking abruptly and Wu Fan nearly trips. “Can I call you Wu Fan?”

Wu Fan blinks and sighs. “Yes, of course you can. Can you –“

The rest of the words are lost in his throat as Yixing tiptoes and presses his lips against Wu Fan’s, fingers pressing into the back of his neck.

And Wu Fan loses it.

His hands find Yixing’s waist naturally, finger pads pressing hard marks into his sides, as he kisses back, trying his best to slip his tongue into Yixing’s mouth, pulling Yixing closer to him, hands tugging Yixing’s dress shirt out of his black, tailored pants, groaning into his mouth.

Yixing pulls away after a minute or so and mumbles, as Wu Fan unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt and presses kisses into his neck, biting red marks along the way, “What are we?”

“What do you want us to be?” Wu Fan replies, lips pressing to the joint between Yixing’s neck and shoulder.

He doesn’t get a reply, but he feels the way Yixing presses himself flush against Wu Fan, his hands resting on the metal buckle of Wu Fan’s belt, lips parting against his. Wu Fan kisses him back and lets Yixing drag him towards his room, before they trip over a random stack of papers on the ground. Yixing falls backwards, dragging Wu Fan with him, such that he’s trapped between the wall and Wu Fan’s body.

“This is why you should clean up,” Wu Fan laughs against his lips.

Yixing ignores him and rolls his hips against Wu Fan’s, bucking against the slight contact of skin on skin. Wu Fan groans and presses Yixing against the wall, his hand snaking down to palm Yixing’s hardening erection. Yixing’s knees buck a little at the contact and he grabs on to Wu Fan’s dress shirt in desperation, body writhing against Wu Fan’s.

Wu Fan pauses a little and asks, “Are you sure this is alright? Your leg –“

“You’re not water, I won’t hurt myself.”

The mischievous glint in Yixing’s eyes has Wu Fan continuing with his ministrations (or maybe it was the way his dick was throbbing). Yixing leans up and whispers into Wu Fan’s ear, “You’re more like fire.”

The words send shivers down Wu Fan’s spine and a fire curling deep in his stomach, which grants him the strength to finally lift Yixing off the ground, over his shoulder, and into his bedroom.

-

Ring.

Wu Fan grumbles and reaches around, his hand grabbing a phone as he picks it up and presses it to his ear, mumbling a groggy ‘hello’. Yixing makes a soft sound and curls closer to him, head tucked into the crook of his neck, mouth pressing light kisses to Wu Fan’s shoulder as he hands wrap around Wu Fan’s waist. Wu Fan tries not to groan, wrapping his leg around Yixing and inching closer, dick already hardening slightly.

“Why are you on Yixing’s phone?”

Wu Fan bolts upright, causing Yixing to groan as his head slides off Wu Fan’s shoulder and hits the bed. He blanks out for a while and sputters, “Wrong number.”

He’s about to hang up when he hears a melodious laugh on the other line and Yixing’s fingers curl around his, coaxing the phone out of his hand.

“Lu Han? Yeah, alright. No, shut up. I hate you. Bye, ge.”

Yixing tosses the phone on the bedside table and crawls into Wu Fan’s lap, pressing his back against Wu Fan’s chest. Wu Fan nuzzles his cheek and mumbles, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Yixing replies, turning his head slightly for him to press a chaste kiss to Wu Fan’s lips.

Wu Fan pulls him closer, slipping his tongue into Yixing’s mouth and cradling him in his arms. He pushes Yixing gently back on the bed and rolls his hips against Yixing’s, skin sliding over skin, as Yixing whines, “Come on, it’s too early for this.”

“It’s never too early for sex,” Wu Fan answers, while nibbling on Yixing’s ear.

Yixing laughs but doesn’t fight him anyway. He moves slightly, loving the way Yixing grips on to his biceps in desperation, and the way his hips push up against Wu Fan’s, needy and pliant in the palm of Wu Fan’s hand.

Wu Fan pulls away and stares down at him, causing Yixing to shift around a little, whining a little at the loss of contact. He blushes and makes a grab for the blanket self-consciously as Wu Fan runs his eyes down the spine of his back, fingers tracing a light path down Yixing’s thighs. Wu Fan laughs at this, hand clamping down hard on Yixing’s thigh and rubbing circles into it. “There’s no need for modesty. I’ve already seen everything last night.”

Yixing’s cheeks get redder and he jabs Wu Fan’s side vigorously, exclaiming, “You have no shame! Get out of my bed this instant, my god, you –“

“I love you,” Wu Fan whispers, grabbing Yixing’s wrist and pausing his abuse.

Yixing smiles, before he pulls Wu Fan back down with a slight pout, and Wu Fan laughs into his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Yixing’s waist lovingly. Yixing’s face colours with approval and he whacks Wu Fan’s chest lightly, his hand running down the expanse of Wu Fan’s chest.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

-

sobs okay, so this was written for my loveliest, nancy ♥ i hope school's been treating you well, bb. and like i've said, if there's anything that's bothering you, feel free to just drop me a dm/ pm/ whatever! i really hope you're okay. i miss you, sobs. and i hope this didn't disappoint you, whimpers softly.

thanks to emmi sweetest, seulpeo, for the beta work. and for reading it through 3 times, and being honest enough to tell me what works and what doesn't! this fic is beautiful and more because of you ♥

thanks also to onyu for helping me with the two things i suck at most: titling and summary writing. I LOVE YOU, but you already know that and you use it shamelessly to your advantage u___u ♥

alright, have some lu han, you guys! thank you for ploughing through this long long monster-ish fic ;~~~;
i... will proceed to hide under my favourite hiding place now, the rock. rolls away =3=

develop - part i

equalises — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 14:08:07 GMT

develop
14,064w; R
kris/lay
Summary: The time it takes to fix a broken relationship takes longer than developing film. Wu Fan waits it out, anyway. photography!au with photographer!lay and model!kris.
A/N: for kim_ri, because she's sososo lovely ♥

March 2012

“No, you clumsy idiot! The dry-cleaning fees for that shirt are going to come straight out of your pay for three months.”

Wu Fan blinks as the trainee scrambles to the side of his mentor, bowing and apologising profusely in broken Korean. He frowns, the shirt probably isn’t even worth three months of the poor guy’s salary, even if it is Armani.

“Eyes on me, if you please, Fan-ge.”

Zitao presses a finger under his chin and tilts it up, letting the soft glow of the room bounce of his cheekbones, while he continues applying pale pink blusher that tint Wu Fan’s cheeks in a gentle crimson hue. Wu Fan’s eyes flicker to the scene reflected in bits of the mirror behind Zitao, hands gripping the seat of the chair until his knuckles are stark white.

He’s out of his chair the minute Zitao releases his chin and exclaims with flourish, “All done!”

“Hey,” he says, slightly breathless as he stares the photographer down. “Cut the kid some slack, it’s not like you’ve never made mistakes in your term as a trainee.”

The photographer flushes a little and mumbles, “Well, the dry-cleaning isn’t going to pay for itself, Kris-sshi.”

“My question is, is that really expensive for you to charge him three months of his salary, or is your company underpaying your trainees?”

“Kris is right. Three months of the kid’s salary is probably a little extravagant, don’t you think, Lee-sunbae?”

Chanyeol strides up from behind Wu Fan and places a hand on his shoulder, giving him a smile and a tiny jerk of his eyebrows. I’ve got your back on this.

There’s a loud sigh, before the photographer mutters something about needing to talk to Baekhyun about the ways to remove the drop of coffee from the white top. Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow and laughs heartily. “Baek’s the designer? I’ll go talk to him about it, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

There’s an obvious loss of words from the other party as Chanyeol strides off, with the senior photographer trailing hastily behind him after he fires a dirty look at the young boy. Wu Fan can only cringe slightly as he realises belatedly that he probably just delayed the boy’s scolding rather than dispel it.

The young boy turns his gaze his Wu Fan after the pair are out of sight, panic whispers falling from his lips as he trips over his words. “But that shirt is really expensive and god, what if they can’t get the coffee stains off? What if Baekhyun-sshi gets really mad?”

Wu Fan blinks and nods slowly. “Hey, relax. I know you’re just a trainee, but that doesn’t mean you should let people shove you around and swallow everything down. And Baekhyun’s a really cool guy, he’ll probably have an easy way to remove such stains, so –“

“But what if he gets mad?” The boy’s eyes are filled with anxiety as he sets down the coffee cup in his right hand, flailing a little. “No, you know what, I should just go by what Lee-sunbae says. It’s fine, I mean taking one for the team, if it saves us conflict and all that hassle.”

The boy dashes off in their direction, just as Baekhyun walks out, holding the white shirt exclaiming, “There, good as new! And it didn’t even cost me anything apart from white vinegar and hot water.”

Wu Fan smiles and gives Chanyeol a small thumbs-up, as the boy turns back to him, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry,” he says, a few seconds later. “I just… I didn’t mean to doubt you and everything, it’s just –“

“It’s alright, your heart’s in the right place.”

He steals a glance at Wu Fan and smiles, and Wu Fan can’t help but notice the small dimple on his cheek, as he brushes black locks out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Kris-sshi.”

“Wu Fan,” he corrects, his heart softening a little at the fear clouding the other’s eyes – something not foreign to him, considering his sudden rise to fame about a month ago. “Call me Wu Fan.”

“I’m Yixing. Zhang Yixing.”

A soft brush against his waist and Wu Fan turns towards Chanyeol, who gives him a slight jerk of his head, signaling the start of the photo shoot. Wu Fan turns and throws a smile at Yixing, before saying, “I’ll remember that. Zhang Yixing, the world’s next greatest photographer.”

-

March 2013

Thud.

Wu Fan sighs and looks up from his book as Chanyeol settles down noisily opposite him and slides the file across the table to him. He raises an eyebrow and watches Chanyeol shift around in his chair, before saying, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Chanyeol clears his throat and wrings his fingers, eyes not meeting Wu Fan’s. Wu Fan slots his bookmark into the book and places it on the table, crossing his arms. He’s not going to like this.

“So, guess who got the deal for your latest photo book shots?” Chanyeol asks with a nervous laugh.

“You didn’t.”

Silence.

“Fuck you, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol meets his eyes and throws his hand up in the air. “He offered a concept that matched you, Fan. I –“

“So I’ll compromise and settle for a different concept!” Wu Fan argues, voice raising a tone. “You know I can handle anything thrown in my way.”

“Sure, I do.” Chanyeol sighs and leans back in his chair. “But I wasn’t the one who took this deal. Joonmyeon-hyung was the one who agreed to it in a heartbeat.”

Wu Fan straightens and leans forward, glaring at Chanyeol. “When did he even get back to Seoul? And what’s he doing at the auction with all the photographers? Chanyeol, is there something you’re keeping from me.”

He’s met with silence as Chanyeol shifts some more in his seat and loosens his tie slightly. “He’s been dying to get Lay to do a shot for the Chinese artistes and he’s been facing rejection for two months,” Chanyeol finally says.

He steals a glance at Wu Fan’s expression and continues carefully, “So you can only imagine the ecstasy when Lay offered to do your shot with a lower pay than what we offered to pay the photographer. Fan, who am I to say no when my boss thinks otherwise?”

Wu Fan pushes his chair back, metal scraping white lines into the granite floor, as he gets to his feet. He turns towards the window, eyes downcast at the cars whizzing by ten floors down. “You’re my manager. And my best friend since high school. You’re supposed to look out for me.”

He hears a long-suffering sigh from behind him, before there is the sound of slight shuffling and he feels Chanyeol’s tall form casting a shadow over him. “I am, Fan. You know I’ll be with you all the time during the photo shoot, I’m not leaving you alone.”

Wu Fan presses his forehead against the cool glass panel and blows hot breath onto it.

“Maybe things aren’t the way you portray them to be.”

“But what if I’m right?” Wu Fan asks, squeezing his eyes shut.

A warm hand rests on his shoulder and Wu Fan’s eyes flicker open, as he throws a side-glance at Chanyeol, who flashes him a toothy grin in return. “Well, we’ll never know unless we give him a chance, will we?”

-

“We’re here,” Chanyeol says, as he turns off the engine of the car.

Wu Fan stays motionless, head propped on his hand as his eyes focus on a random spot on the lush greenery around him. “Hey,” Chanyeol repeats, giving him a light shake.

“Yeah, alright.”

He opens the door and slips on his shades, swinging his black bag over his shoulder, the grey Totoro keychain hitting his shoulder lightly. Chanyeol appears next to him a minute later, and presses a hand to his waist, urging him forward. Wu Fan inhales and moves.

It’s more beautiful than he remembers, without all the artificial potted plants and black sofas that stood out against the natural beauty, from a year back. It doesn’t stop him from cringing, nonetheless, at the cliché of meeting at the place they first crossed paths. Things are different, he is different.

Then, Wu Fan hears his voice, the light tenor ringing clear in the mid-afternoon breeze, before he sees him.

Yixing hasn’t changed much, from what he remembers. His hair’s a tone lighter, a mixture of reds and browns, like the leaves on the trees around them. His style’s gotten better, ridding the sloppy t-shirts and jeans that Wu Fan had last seen him in, and opting for sleek leather jackets and white button-downs that would have cost him three months of his pathetic salary as a trainee apparently.

Wu Fan shrugs it off and takes Chanyeol’s bag as Chanyeol heads off to greet the staff. If there’s anything he’s learnt in entertainment business, it’s that appearances barely defined character.

“Chanyeol didn’t tell me you grew horizontally. Now I’ll have to redesign all the clothes, you bitch.”

He smiles before looking up, recognizing that voice anywhere. Baekhyun walks towards him and gives him a light hug. Wu Fan rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Come on, I just weighed myself yesterday and I’m only 0.2kg heavier. I’m sure that won’t affect your designs.”

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose slightly and waves his hand at Wu Fan, declaring, “Please, your chest was already threatening to rip my designs a year back. 0.2kg would have disastrous effects, Fan.”

Wu Fan smiles and gives Baekhyun a light shove, engaging him in small talk before he hears Chanyeol call for him. He pauses and yells back, “Coming.”

Baekhyun looks vaguely amused as Wu Fan checks his hair in the mirror, brushing newly dyed blonde strands into place. He turns to Baekhyun when he’s done and gives him a thumbs-up with a slight quirk of his eyebrow. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and returns the sign, like old times, before he drops his smile and says, “He’s been waiting to meet you, Fan.”

“That makes one of us,” Wu Fan responds without missing a beat, eyes not meeting Baekhyun’s as he checks his phone for messages.

“Kris.”

Fuck. Chanyeol sounds pissed, so Wu Fan tosses his phone back into his bag, and takes a deep breath.

“Don’t give him a death sentence before you’ve met him, Fan.”

Wu Fan squeezes his eyes shut and spins on his heel to face Baekhyun. “He was the one who walked away from us.”

Baekhyun leans against the mirror and raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, and you’ll never know why unless you give him a chance to explain himself, right?”

When Wu Fan doesn’t reply, opting to turn his head away from Baekhyun instead, Baekhyun presses on, “You should know him better than most people in our circle. Stop forcing your heart to believe what your mind is choosing to.”

Wu Fan gives Baekhyun a look, before he side steps Baekhyun and his judging glare, and makes his way over to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol’s smile is superficial, bordering on annoyance when Wu Fan finally arrives by his side. Wu Fan throws Chanyeol a wry smile and Chanyeol shoots him a sharp look, before his face relaxes into its usual grin. Be nice, Fan.

Wu Fan reaches up and pulls his shades off, twirling them around between his thumb and fore finger, as Yixing says, “I’m Lay Zhang, I’ll be working with you for the next month or so, depending on our progress each day.”

He finally looks up and sees Yixing’s hand hovering in the space between them. Yixing looks slightly perplexed, the air of confidence he was oozing when Wu Fan face laid eyes on him gone and replaced with the look slightly akin to that from a year ago.

“Kris.” He answers curtly, with a small nod.

Yixing lets the hand between them fall as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Chanyeol shoots him a sharp glare as Wu Fan turns on his heel and heads back to the make-up table to be attacked by Zitao’s newly acquired brushes, Mandarin falling rapidly from his lips.

”Black coffee, no sugar, right? Here you go, Wu Fan-ge.”

Wu Fan smiles and accepts the cup graciously, taking a sip before he gives Yixing a thumbs-up. Yixing beams happily as he leans against the counter and starts describing the shots they’re doing for the day.

He hangs on to every word falling from Yixing’s lips, watches the way his eyes flash with excitement and the passion colouring his voice.

“Fan-ge? Did you hear what I said?”

Zitao’s frowning at him, hands pausing lightly on his cheek. Wu Fan smiles and answers, “Of course, Taozi.”

Zitao doesn’t really seem convinced, but he continues with the light chatter nonetheless. Wu Fan’s not really registering anything, but he finds himself nodding in between Zitao’s sentences, laughing at the most appropriate pauses.

Stop thinking about it, he mentally curses. That was Zhang Yixing that made your heart skip a beat. This is Lay Zhang.

-

“How’s my favourite model doing?”

Wu Fan takes a deep breath and counts to five mentally. He stares at himself in the mirror, will the corners of his lips to turn up slightly. A stylist noona walks past and whispers something excitedly to the other stylist beside her. Perfect.

He turns around and bows slightly. “I’m good, Chanyeol’s been taking good care of me.”

Joonmyeon nods and gives Wu Fan a light pat on the shoulder. “Good to hear that! Now, tell me, are you ready to start taking shots for your latest photo book?”

“Of course, I can’t wait to get started.”

Joonmyeon seems pleased with his answer, as he rewards Wu Fan with another pat on the shoulder, before he walks off in search of Chanyeol. Wu Fan lets out the breath he’s been holding when Kyungsoo, his personal assistant, scurries off after Joonmyeon.

Wu Fan drops the smile and stares at himself in the mirror. He’s been out of it for too long, he’s forgotten how to move the muscles in his face to smile, even when his heart’s not in it.

“Kris, sorry but can we get a couple of shots?”

A guy with reddish-brown hair appears behind him and beams at him. Wu Fan nods slowly and trails behind him, mind whirling with questions on the familiarity of his eyes and pronounced cheekbones.

They walk in silence for a while, before the guy laughs and shakes his head, pausing so abruptly that Wu Fan almost smashes into his back. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Lu Han, Lay’s manager.”

Wu Fan stiffens slightly and returns the greeting with a polite bow of his head. He should have recognised the childlike innocence in those eyes the minute they met.

“What are the test shots for?” He drops his voice to a whisper as he comes to a halt next to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol shrugs and replies, “Apparently Lay has a policy of letting the model’s company check out his work before starting the actual shoot. Something about ensuring that quality matches what they’re looking for or paying for.”

Wu Fan resists the urge to roll his eyes and nods simply. Tabloids are pretty accurate on his arrogance, hangs heavily between the two of them, unsaid. Chanyeol gives him a clap on his back and pushes him forward gently. “Go out there and make Joonmyeon proud.”

“I’ll do my best,” Wu Fan assures, with a slight smile before he steps out to where Yixing is signaling for him.

It’s going to be a long month, he sighs, wishing it could just be over already.

-

“Who’s that?” Wu Fan asks, eyes sliding to the guy in the background, as Zitao brushes foundation across his cheeks in quick, short strokes.

Zitao looks up from his face and blinks. “Sehun? He’s Lay’s trainee. He’s been training under him for around two months or so, I heard.”

He returns to brushing layers of powder on Wu Fan’s face as Wu Fan eyes the way Sehun moves around, aegyo-ing half the staff, especially Lu Han. Sehun seemed almost comfortable with everyone, like a fish in top-grade water – a stark contrast to the Zhang Yixing that Wu Fan had saved a year ago.

When Zitao shoos him away and keeps his brushes into his pink Gucci bag, Wu Fan approaches Sehun, clearing his throat when Sehun doesn’t look up from his phone. Sehun jumps a little, and stammers, “Can I help you, Kris-sshi?”

Wu Fan gives him a smile, trying to calm Sehun’s nerves. “You’re Lay’s trainee, right?”

Sehun eyes him carefully and nods his head slowly. Wu Fan holds up his hands defensively and maintains the smile on his face, the one he uses to pacify Joonmyeon, and continues, “Relax. I was just curious if you chose to work under Lay.”

“Well, I was assigned to him. But we can opt to change our mentor every month, so that we get a feel of the different styles of photography and decide which path suits us most.”

Wu Fan stares at him and says slowly, “Zitao mentioned that you’ve been under him for approximately two months?”

Sehun wrings his hands together and stares at the ground. From the corner of his eye, Wu Fan sees Lu Han staring at them in concern from a distance away. Right, this obviously isn’t working. Wu Fan gives a soft laugh and places a hand on Sehun’s shoulder, pressing it lightly. “God, relax. I’m just genuinely curious about how differently things work in the photography world and the modeling world.”

“I opted to stay with Lay-ge,” Sehun answers and throws a look over his shoulder, giving Lu Han a small wave and a shake of his head when Lu Han frowns slightly at him, brows furrowed.

“Why? Won’t you want to expand your scope, I mean?”

Sehun shrugs and cocks his head to one side, before answering with a small smile, “Lay-ge has this way of making everyone on the team feel at home. That’s the type of photographer I want to grow to become.”

He gives Wu Fan a small bow as the lighting manager waves and yells for Sehun’s presence. Wu Fan stands on spot, slightly dumbfounded as Chanyeol approaches him and raises an eyebrow. “What was that about?”

Wu Fan stays silent as his eyes follow the way Yixing enters the room and goes from one staff member to another, bowing slightly and greeting them with a chirpy ‘good morning’. When Yixing’s eyes fall on him, he gives a small smile and a wave, cueing Wu Fan to walk off in search of Baekhyun for his clothes.

-

“Fan, lunch.”

Baekhyun sets down a plastic container before him and Wu Fan stares at the light blue post-it stuck on it, with ‘Kris’ scrawled across in loopy print. He pries open the lid carefully as Baekhyun sits down next to him, already one-third through his rice and vegetables.

Wu Fan groans inwardly at the thought of eating rice, before he lets out an amused ‘oh’ upon opening the box. Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at him and asks, “Not to your liking?”

“No,” Wu Fan answers calmly. “I was expecting it to be similar to yours.”

“We each get personalised lunches around here, based on what we like.”

Wu Fan stares at him, eyebrows raised. Baekhyun looks up and shrugs, continuing, “Yixing thinks that good food motivates people to work. I don’t know where he got that theory from, but we appreciate the effort he spends to figure out our food preferences.”

When his eyes fall on the way Wu Fan’s forehead creases with disagreement, Baekhyun sighs and amends, “Well, it’s generally appreciated, I suppose.”

Wu Fan takes a bite of his fried noodles and he guesses vaguely from the way Baekhyun laughs that he did a poor job of concealing the satisfaction his taste buds just savoured. They sit in silence, as Wu Fan slurps away at his noodles and Baekhyun chomps loudly on the vegetables, before Baekhyun sets down his plastic container and wrings his hands together.

“You should talk to him,” Baekhyun says abruptly. “Or at least stop cold shouldering him.”

Wu Fan stirs the remainder of his noodles around the box, avoiding the conversation he’s had a million times with Chanyeol in the past three days. Baekhyun nudges him gently in the ribs, forcing Wu Fan to look up. “He’s a really decent guy, Fan. I’ve worked with him for four projects and this kid is nothing but sweetness.”

“That’s not what tabloids have to say.”

“Wu Fan.”

Wu Fan stares at him grudgingly and folds his arms across his chest. Baekhyun looks unimpressed as he exclaims in exasperation, “How long have you been in this line? You should know tabloids aren’t true!”

“I would believe that if he didn’t turn down four out of five deals that he received, and mind you, the deal he took up was the one which paid the most. If that isn’t a clear signal of arrogance and elitism of only doing jobs for renowned brands, I don’t know what is.”

“He probably has an explanation for that. And you’ll never find out if you’re going to keep up with that attitude.”

“It doesn’t matter if I know or not. I’m a nobody, just a model he has to work with for his latest project and –“

A loud clatter behind them causes Wu Fan to whirl around. Lu Han mumbles a soft ‘oops’ as he picks up his container and rubs the back of his neck, saying, “Just wanted to check if you guys are done with your lunch.”

Baekhyun smiles and stacks his empty box on top of Wu Fan’s, ignoring Wu Fan’s ‘hey, I’m not done with that’, and passes it to Lu Han. Lu Han beams at them and takes the box, though Wu Fan doesn’t miss the way Lu Han’s smile dropped for a fleeting moment as he locks eyes with him. Wu Fan returns the look with a slight upturn of his lips in mock politeness, causing Lu Han’s eyes to smolder, before he’s back to his usual self, all bright eyes and sweet smiles.

“Don’t ever say that,” Baekhyun hisses, after Lu Han went out of earshot. “You know how much he admires you, especially since that thing last year –“

“Stop bringing that up.” Wu Fan tries to keep a straight face, although he knows he’s fooling no one with the way his voice cracked as he spoke.

“He hurt you,” Baekhyun says, voice suddenly dropping in volume, a tinge of gentleness that Wu Fan hates accompanying it.

Wu Fan looks away and reaches for his phone, only to have Baekhyun reach out and grab his hand. “Wu Fan, talk to me. What happened?”

He remembers the way their emails had gotten shorter, with Yixing rushing off to photo shots left and right, and his schedule getting more packed with each passing endorsement. He remembers the way Yixing had stopped replying altogether to his emails after a particular photo shoot that he left for, remembers the way he had sent emails repeatedly just to make sure Yixing’s alright and the emptiness he felt whenever he opened his inbox subsequently. He remembers the explosion of articles about Yixing’s arrogance, his elitism, the way he refuses to comment on any of those articles. He–

“It’s nothing,” he says and tugs his hand out of Baekhyun’s grip. “I just don’t like to be reminded that I saved an ungrateful asshole.”

Baekhyun looks like he’s about to strangle something, before his face softens and he says, “I’m just saying, Fan, anyone who’s this decent to his staff can’t possibly be an arrogant bastard like what tabloids say and what you’ve gotten accustomed to believing.”

Wu Fan rests his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder and mumbles, “I just want to know what happened to the kid I saved a year back.”

He gets to his feet and walks towards Chanyeol, lips already upturned upon the sight of Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo. He doesn’t miss the look of sympathy that flashes across Baekhyun’s face and Wu Fan wonders if his current expression is sufficient to at least fool Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo.

-

“It’s just for a week,” Kyungsoo says and presents Wu Fan with an award-winning awkward smile. “Until Chanyeol’s done settling his family matters, at least.”

Wu Fan sighs and stares at the man fidgeting before him. “And he was the next best option?”

“I’m the only one who was willing to take up Chanyeol’s terrible job, alright?”

“Your snark is ever-loved and appreciated, Jongdae,” Wu Fan deadpans with a roll of his eyes.

Jongdae sticks out his tongue as Kyungsoo flails a little and starts muttering promises of finding Wu Fan a new temporary manager if it was absolutely necessary. He only drops it when both Jongdae and Wu Fan break into laughing fits, choosing instead of blink at them blankly.

“It’s our normal communication method, don’t worry, Kyungsoo-sshi,” Jongdae assures him with a smile.

Kyungsoo relaxes visibly, shoulders slumping slightly as he puffs out his cheeks and storms off. It leaves Wu Fan laughing for a couple of minutes more, before Jongdae asks, “Hey, you have a copy of your schedule right?”

Wu Fan wipes tears from his eyes and leans back against his chair. “That’s a rhetorical question right? Of course I don’t have it, Chanyeol usually keeps it.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Wu Fan hears a flurry of shuffling and his jaw drops slightly as he watches Jongdae shuffle through sheets of paper in his file. Jongdae looks slightly lost as he murmurs, “It’s got to be in here somewhere, I swear.”

Wu Fan tries not to groan aloud. He misses Chanyeol already.

-

“Fan!”

Wu Fan grips the handle of a nearby chair, shaking his head slightly and grimacing at the pain threatening to split his head in half at the small motion. Jongdae’s grip on his arm isn’t doing much to ease the dizziness and Wu Fan shoots him a tight smile, causing the vice-like grip on his arm to loosen as he is shoved into a chair.

He exhales and closes his eyes, as Jongdae presses a hand to his forehead and exclaims, “God, we should just cancel the shot today and –“

“Is everything alright?”

Yixing blinks at them as he approaches them with a script in hand. Jongdae shakes his head just as Wu Fan answers, “Yes, it’s perfect. This is a really nice location.”

“No, what he –“

“Just ignore him,” Wu Fan interrupts with a smile. “He’s just a trainee manager taking over Chanyeol’s job temporarily. He worries about everything.”

Yixing seems unconvinced, and Wu Fan fidgets about awkwardly in his seat, before he retrieves his bag, cursing softly when contents spill out from the significantly increasing holes at the side. He swears the holes weren’t big enough to endanger the loss of his possessions the last he checked… a year ago.

Yixing eyes his bag, and Wu Fan fixes him with a glare that has Yixing flailing slightly before he starts explaining the basic layout of the shot. “And basically, the idea is to have a light water shower for this shot to enhance the effects.”

“No!” Jongdae explodes and grabs the stack of papers Yixing’s holding, flipping through them fervently. “No, no, no!”

Wu Fan rolls his eyes, yanks the papers from Jongdae’s grip and slides them back into Yixing’s fingers. He gives Yixing a wry smile and nods. “Just call me when you guys are ready to go.”

Jongdae makes a face but shuts up as Wu Fan glares at him. The silence lasts until Yixing’s out of earshot and he hisses immediately, “Are you crazy? You’re burning and you want to do a shot that involves water? I’m supposed to be responsible for you and –“

“So go greet the staff like what Chanyeol does to build people relations,” Wu Fan deadpans. “I know what I’m doing.”

There seems to be blatant disagreement on Jongdae’s side, but he shuffles away nonetheless, mumbling curses of it being none of his fault if anything were to happen to Wu Fan. Wu Fan ignores him and takes a huge gulp of water, getting to his feet when he hears Lu Han calling his name, ignoring the way his knees seemed to be giving way.

-

He should have listened to Jongdae, Wu Fan realises as he tries to stop his body from shaking while Minseok, one of the staff, sprays him with light water showers from his left. Wu Fan tries to stare at the camera, ignoring the way the shirt is clinging to his skin, dispelling the thoughts of crumbling to the ground.

“Do you need to take a break?”

Yixing lowers his camera and stares at Wu Fan, brows slightly furrowed.

Wu Fan shakes his head slowly, chest heaving as the rain showers finally came to a halt. Yixing moves towards him, his lips moving rapidly and his voice amplifying. Wu Fan frowns, tries to tell him to slow down, to be softer because he isn’t deaf, but the words escape him and he settles for clutching his head in pain instead.

He doesn’t remember much, apart from the way Yixing’s fingers dig into his arm as his knees finally give way and his vision turns black.

-

The coolness pressing against his cheeks and his forehead registers before the throbbing pain at the back of his head. Wu Fan tosses slightly on the chair, eyes fluttering open slowly, throat burning with fury as he tries to mouth for water.

A glass is pressed lightly at his lips and he swallows gratefully, before seeing Jongdae fiddling with his thumbs and the wry smile that Lu Han fixes him with.

“We can always postpone the shot if you’re sick,” Lu Han deadpans as he presses a damp towel to the side of Wu Fan’s face.

Wu Fan closes his eyes and focuses on breathing. He’s too sick to argue with Lu Han presently anyway.

Lu Han takes it, however, as a sign of surrender, as he continues, “Shooting when you’re sick isn’t heroic, it’s stupid. You could pass the virus to everyone or worsen your condition, which would delay shooting further, don’t you think?”

Wu Fan exhales in frustration, trying to piece his brain together to come up with a witty reply.

“You shouldn’t nag at sick people.”

Yixing leans across Lu Han and presses a cool hand to Wu Fan’s cheek, ignoring the way Lu Han pouts at him and tugs at his sleeve endearingly. He gives Wu Fan a small smile and says, “You feel a lot cooler though. Go home and get some rest, we’ll continue when you’re feeling better.”

Wu Fan bolts upright and grabs Yixing’s wrist, his other hand pressing against his forehead at the sudden rush of blood up to his brain. Yixing pauses and gently pushes Wu Fan back into the chair with his right hand, mumbling, “Yes?”

“It’s just a couple more photos to go, right? Let’s just get it over and done with. It’s not worth spending money to rent this location again, I –“

“And your health is more important to me than the money.”

Wu Fan freezes as he blinks, trying to calm the way his heart is pounding against his rib cage at the familiarity of the words slipping out of Yixing’s lips. He stares at Yixing, and shakes his head. Yixing leans towards him and Wu Fan presses back against the chair slightly at their close proximity. “Stop being such a workaholic, Kris. You’ll get Jongdae-sshi into trouble with Chanyeol-sshi.”

Yixing pulls away with a small smile as he heads over to the make-up station, picks up Wu Fan’s bag and dumps it on Wu Fan’s lap. “Go home, Kris.”

When he’s gone, Wu Fan finally opens his bag and digs for his bottle, while Jongdae calls fervently for a cab. He’s midway through downing the entire bottle when he realises the solid feel of cloth against his thigh and gapes slightly at the disappearance of holes. He lifts it to his eyes and squints, noting the tiny, uneven stitches of a slightly darker shade of grey cloth at the edges of his bag.

“He tried his best,” Lu Han comments, before he stands up and goes off to get a new towel.

It takes Wu Fan exactly five minutes before realising the unsaid words behind Lu Han’s vague sentence. He tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat as he gets into the cab, eyes shutting slowly as his head falls on Jongdae’s shoulder.

-

There’s a slight sign of improvement in his impression of Yixing when Chanyeol returns, much to Chanyeol’s pleasure. Wu Fan doesn’t really know what he’s referring to and he tries to ignore the way Chanyeol waggles his eyebrows and bounces on his heels when he flashes a smile and laughs at something Yixing says. Yixing frowns in confusion and fails to hit the intended meaning even after five corrections, before he gives up entirely and shoves the sheet of paper to Wu Fan, forcing him to read Lu Han’s handwriting on it.

“You’ve become less critical,” Chanyeol hums joyously.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes and snatches the paper out of Wu Fan’s grasp, ignoring the way Wu Fan wrinkles his nose in distaste, fixing him with a creepy smile instead. Stop lying.

Wu Fan sighs in resignation and mumbles, “Fine, he’s tolerable.”

Chanyeol claps his hands gleefully and exclaims, “See, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you after being around him for three days.”

“Alright, you’re right. Gold star.”

“Thank you!” Chanyeol beams at him happily, and Wu Fan cringes. “Next, you’ll be telling me that you’re falling for him and then you’ll be sexing him up and –“

“Can you not,” Wu Fan deadpans, chills running up his spine, palms suddenly sweaty as he reaches into Zitao’s make-up kit and throws one of his brushes at Chanyeol.

Chanyeol shrugs and starts yelling at the top of his lungs for Zitao to come and murder Wu Fan with his kick-ass Wushu skills because that is possibly his favourite brush.

He doesn’t think Chanyeol’s too far off though, as his heart does a weird skipping motion when Yixing’s eyes fall on the commotion surrounding them, giving him a small smile the moment he catches Wu Fan’s eye. But he’ll never give Chanyeol the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

-

“You can anticipate it,” Wu Fan answers and smiles reassuringly at the man before him.

Chanyeol places a hand on the small of his back, interrupting their conversation with his boisterous laugh as he slips Wu Fan a glass of champagne. He swirls the liquid around in the glass gently, before he takes a sip and lets it burn down his throat.

They make small talk before Chanyeol nods politely and leads Wu Fan away from the crowd to a more secluded area. Wu Fan exhales and Chanyeol throws him a wry smile, rubbing a hand across his shoulders. He whispers, “It’s just a while more, bare with it.”

Wu Fan nods and downs the rest of his champagne, placing the glass back on the tray of a passing waiter. Party scenes with fellow models, photographers and actors are never his thing; there’s too much drinking, too much sex happening at every crevice, and the thought of cigar and drugs just accelerates the rate of bile rising up Wu Fan’s throat.

Chanyeol waves to the right as Wu Fan approaches him; he exhales and presses his hand into Wu Fan’s shoulder, massaging it gently.

“What’s wrong?” Wu Fan asks, heart heavy before Chanyeol even answers.

Chanyeol bites his lip. “Just try to put up with this guy. He’s a really important client for us. He practically sponsors half the ads we put up around here.”

Right. Wu Fan nods and trails behind Chanyeol, snatching another brightly coloured alcoholic cocktail off another waiter’s tray. He’s not drunk enough for patience.

“Mr Kim,” Chanyeol greets with a smile, clasping the man’s hand with both of his and giving it a firm shake. “This is our company’s star, Kris.”

Wu Fan turns his lips upwards, the way he does when he deals with Joonmyeon, as he shakes Mr Kim’s hand.

“Please, just call me Hyunwoo. And this is Soyi.”

His hand lands on Soyi’s thigh as he flashes Wu Fan a smile. Wu Fan nods and slides into the booth, next to Soyi, while Chanyeol joins him on his right.

His head’s spinning slightly as Hyunwoo shoves another glass of liquor into his hands, but he accepts it graciously and sets it down on the table. Chanyeol’s still bright-eyed beside him, as he laughs loudly and says, “Kris can’t really drink too much tonight, we have a huge shot tomorrow.”

Hyunwoo rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively at Chanyeol’s words. Nonetheless, he makes a signal for Chanyeol to follow him and Chanyeol gives Wu Fan’s thigh a quick pat, as he leans over to whisper, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in just a while. Just some admin work to tend to. Good job tonight, Fan.”

Chanyeol gives him a reassuring smile and disappears into the crowd. Wu Fan relaxes visibly and fiddles with his phone, before he feels a warm hand resting on his arm. Soyi’s eyes are half-lidded as she coos, voice a little too high for his liking, “I saw the ads you’ve done so far, Kris. They’re really lovely.”

Wu Fan laughs and shrugs it off, although Soyi’s hand doesn’t fall from his arm. Soyi continues showering him with praises, her words slurring together slightly and Wu Fan really should have noticed that something was off, with the way Soyi inches closer to him until their thighs are brushing.

He blames it on the alcohol when Soyi kisses him square on the lips and it finally dawns on him what all the praises had been for.

Wu Fan freezes in place, brain too buzzed with alcohol to react until Soyi pulls away and gives him a slightly dazed smile.

A loud crash sounds from behind him, and Wu Fan turns to see Chanyeol frozen in place with Hyunwoo beside him, a small puddle and glass shards at his feet.

Wu Fan stands up, almost knocking the mini table over, just in time to watch Hyunwoo tear the contract in his hands in half, fling it on the floor and disappear into the crowd. Chanyeol shoots him a panicked look and mouths get Joonmyeon, before he dashes into the crowd.

He doesn’t know what scares him more – the evident panic in Joonmyeon’s voice when Wu Fan summarises the event, or the flash he had seen right before his eyes had fallen on Hyunwoo.

-

“Hey, handsome.”

Wu Fan shoves his way past the toothpick skinny girl – possibly a fellow model, but his brain is too buzzed with alcohol to care at the moment – and saunters back to the dance floor.

“Kris, is everything alright?”

A hand falls on his, halting his movement, and Yixing spins into view. His eyes are wide, his face slightly pale and devoid of those dimples that Wu Fan’s grown to adore.

No, Wu Fan wants to snap. Nothing’s alright because he’s just fucked up what could have been the biggest deal for the company, and all he really wants to do right now is drink himself into oblivion while Chanyeol tries to make the best out of the mess he’s created.

Instead, he yanks his wrist away and makes a grab for another drink from a passing waiter.

“No,” Yixing snaps, as he whacks Wu Fan’s hand away from the glass. “You’ve drunk enough for tonight. We still have a shot early tomo–“

Wu Fan narrows his eyes and pins Yixing to the wall in a fluid movement, fingers digging red marks into Yixing’s wrists. “Stop testing my boundaries, Lay.”

Yixing stares at him, eyes wide and lips pressed into a thin line, relaxing under Wu Fan’s grip. And Wu Fan wishes Yixing would scold him, would shove him away, would do anything instead of looking at Wu Fan with that look of absolute sympathy. “Sorry,” Yixing breathes.

Wu Fan relaxes his hold on Yixing’s wrists and shakes his head, eyes dropping to the ground. He exhales and drops the act he puts up for everyone – Joonmyeon, Chanyeol, himself – and leans towards Yixing slowly, because he’s so so tired.

His eyes flutter shut as his ears shut out the drowning bass of the club. He hears a sharp intake of breath beneath him, and Wu Fan’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, before he is shoved back roughly at the shoulders.

Fuck. Wu Fan’s eyes fly open as Chanyeol fixes him with a tight smile that lasts for a fleeting moment, before he turns to Yixing. Fuck, fuck, fuck, is all Wu Fan thinks, even as he watches Chanyeol apologise to Yixing over his behavior, as Yixing shakes his head and brushes it off with excuses of “it’s fine, he’s just drunk”.

He runs fingers through his bangs and exhales loudly before slamming his fist against the wall once Yixing disappears into the crowd of dancers. Chanyeol sighs and leans against the wall beside him. “You either just admit that you’re starting to fall for him, or you get your act together, Wu Fan.”

“Shut up.”

Reminders are secondary, compared to the double damage he’s done to both his career and his social life tonight. Chanyeol fixes him with a look and concludes, “That wasn’t a drunk Kris, that was an out-of-control Kris.”

He gives Wu Fan a pat on the shoulder and disappears into the crowd. For the second time that night, Wu Fan wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

♥

introduction.

equalises — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 04:36:20 GMT

posting journal of specialises

drabble dump #1

equalises — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 15:44:14 GMT

just a couple of things that i wrote on twitlonger either to cheer people up or out of sheer boredom. idek what i'm doing with my life ;w; will reply to comments when exams are over and out of my way next thursday \o/

krislay; pg; 262w
for kim_ri as a cheer-up thingy. love you and miss you, katniss ♥

theoretically, yixing isn’t the type of person he’ll list as his ideal type, even if he does fit everything listed on his “characteristics of my perfect wife” list-thingy.

so when lu han peers over wu fan’s shoulder and tells him to save all the pen ink for autographs during their cd-signing events, wu fan blinks at him in confusion.

lu han rolls his eyes and snatches a pencil from wu fan’s pencil case, cancels out the whole list and writes neatly next to it “艺兴”. this results in wu fan sputtering indignantly and almost throwing his notebook at lu han’s stupid face. fans be damned, he’ll look better with a black eye.

yixing blinks at him blankly from across the room and taozi peers over his shoulder and announces, “xing-ge, you’re fan-ge’s ideal type.”

wu fan yanks the notebook away from zitao’s prying eyes and clutches it tightly to his chest. he narrows his eyes and scowls, which leaves zitao squeaking and scrambling off – possibly to get his wushu stick for threatening purposes.

yixing sneaks up on him and pries the notebook away from his chest, his cute dimple appearing as he looks at wu fan’s messy scrawl and lu han’s relatively neater one. he leans down and whispers, “you’re my ideal type too, fan.”

yixing beams at him and trots off to the kitchen, humming 你的世界 under his breath. wu fan sits, dumbfounded, and draws a small heart in pen beside lu han’s words.

perhaps, he’ll spare lu han’s life this time round.

-

sehan; pg (somewhat); 234w
written for bicheul jie ♥
supposed to be a cheer-up fic thing, but it digressed halfway, because i was thinking of the conversation i had with pillowfrost</lj> awhile back, about lu han's family being supposedly unhappy with his career? idk really, but this is the end-result, wilts.

lu han thinks he really shouldn’t be doing this, because he’s the hyung and he’s the one who’s supposed to be righteous and all-knowing.

yet, all this is shoved to the back of his mind as he pushes sehun against the wall and kisses him senseless. sehun seems slightly confused but he kisses back anyway, body relaxing under lu han’s firm grasp as his fingers tug lightly at lu han’s caramel brown strands.

“hyung,” sehun exhales when lu han moves away from his lips to suck marks into his neck. “what’s this about?”

everything, he wants to say, but settles for pulling away from sehun and giving him a tight smile instead. “it’s nothing, I just missed you, sehun-ah,” he answers simply, and is met with delight when sehun just beams back at him without questioning his words.

that’s the thing about sehun that has lu han dreaming about him miles away; sehun believes in giving him space and listening only when lu han wants to share. and right now, lu han just wants distractions, distractions, distractions. maybe this way, he can throw away the pain he keeps buried inside him.

sehun plants a light kiss at the corner of his lips and lu han snaps back to reality, eyes locking with sehun’s.

he sighs. he’s going to need a distraction to distract him from his sehun-filled thoughts when he gets back to china.

ready to go (so get me out of my mind)

equalises — Sat, 08 Sep 2012 13:59:37 GMT

ready to go (so get me out of my mind)
2,392w; PG
sehun/luhan
Summary: In which Sehun has a massive crush on a certain boy at a candy store and Zitao laughs at his sad plight on a daily basis.
A/N: for emmi sweetie, seulpeo, because it's her birthday ♥

“Welcome.”

Sehun sighs in slight resignation as he hears the dull bass of Jongin’s voice and mentally curses his apparent lack of luck. Next to him, Zitao stifles a laugh and earns himself a good, hard nudge in the ribs from Sehun. Zitao makes a soft whiny noise and scurries off to an aisle far away as Sehun picks out gummies from the nearby rack.

“You should try the ones shaped like Lego blocks, they’re new and Wu Fan’s been hounding us to get feedback on it.”

He jumps slightly, as his breath catches when he glances up and locks eyes with Lu Han. This results in Lu Han’s eyes crinkling into crescents and he continues, with an awkward scratch of his neck, “Sorry if I scared you.”

Sehun shakes his head hurriedly and grabs the new type of gummies from the rack before rushing to the counter and cutting Zitao’s queue. He ignores Zitao’s grumble and shoves Jongin a couple of notes, before he hightails out of the store.

He’s inhaling deeply, as he attempts to block out the roaring pulse in his ears, when Zitao steps past the threshold, swinging his pink candy bag back and forth happily. “I’d classify that as failed attempt numero seven,” he chirps gleefully.

“There are no such things as failed attempts when –“

“Oh, just come off it already, Sehun. You should’ve seen the way Jongin smirked the moment Lu Han approached you and you froze up like a Sehun-sicle.”

Sehun makes a face and ignores Zitao as he trots down the street back home.

Ninth failed attempt, he corrects Zitao silently.

-

“Why did we have to bring him along,” Sehun deadpans, his hand resting on the doorknob of the candy store as he fixes Baekhyun with a stare.

“I like candy too!” Baekhyun protests, to which Zitao sniggers. “Fine, I just want to catch a glimpse of the pretty boy that has our Sehunnie fawning like a puppy.”

“I do not–“ He pauses mid-sentence at the 'Really?' looks that Zitao and Baekhyun shoot him and puffs out his cheeks. “Just try not to do anything remotely embarrassing.”

“You’re embarrassing enough for all three of us,” Zitao pipes in helpfully, and Sehun glares at him before he pushes the door open and almost walks right into Lu Han.

Lu Han beams at him and holds the door open for them, causing Sehun to jump slightly at the electricity that races down his spine as Lu Han’s fingers brush against his. Baekhyun bursts into a random fit of coughs from behind him as Zitao shimmies past them and heads to the chocolate section. Sehun blinks and hurriedly makes his way to the M&Ms section before he can trip or do anything remotely humiliating.

“Any comments about our new gummies?” Lu Han asks and leans against the shelf next to Sehun.

Sehun blinks and swallows, trying to recall any differences between those gummies and the bear ones that he always bought. “They taste the same?” He offers with a weak smile.

Lu Han raises an eyebrow and walks off, leaving Sehun to silently bang his head against the shelf, before Lu Han rematerializes and stares at him incredulously.

“There was an ant,” Sehun stammers. “On my forehead. Um, it’s dead now.”

Real smooth. He could almost hear Baekhyun and Zitao laughing at him from across the store. Lu Han laughs brightly and says, “You are so adorable.”

Sehun freezes and stares as Lu Han holds out a bowl of gummies to him – the exact ones that he had bought yesterday. Lu Han asks, “Did you try combining them? You can get really cool flavours if you do, like raspberry apple or something!”

Sehun randomly picks up two different coloured gummies and stares at them, wondering if Lu Han’s definition of combining them meant he should pop both into his mouth simultaneously. As though he had sensed Sehun’s doubt, Lu Han plucked one of the gummies out of Sehun’s hand and turned it, fitting it on to the remaining gummy in Sehun’s hand.

“Try it,” he urges, voice soft as a gentle smile lights up his face, his hand still lingering atop Sehun’s.

Sehun brings the gummy to his lips and pushes it in, his taste buds barely registering the taste as his heart speeds into overdrive from the warmth of Lu Han’s hand.

Lu Han blinks at him and asks, “Do you like it?”

He nods, eyes dropping to his hand and he mutters, “I’ll try it with the remainder of the gummies in my fridge. Thanks.”

He meets a beaming Baekhyun and a smirking Zitao at the counter, which he opts to ignore, while paying Jongin.

Lu Han holds the door open for them as they walk out, which earns him more giggles from Baekhyun. Sehun questions Baekhyun’s true age as he steps out of the store, wrinkling his nose slightly in disdain.

He snaps out of his thoughts when a hand lands on his arm, warm and smooth, pausing mid-step.

“What’s your name?” Lu Han asks. “It just seems rude of me not to know how to address you when you’re a frequent customer.”

When Sehun doesn’t answer for more than five seconds, with his back still facing Lu Han, Baekhyun exclaims, “For Christ’s sake, his name’s Sehun. Oh Sehun.”

Lu Han’s hand drops from his arm and Sehun can almost hear him smile as he says, “Thanks for shopping with us, Sehun-ah.”

There’s a slight tinkling of bells from behind him, before Baekhyun erupts into laughter and Zitao gives him happy pats on the back, congratulating him on slight progress after two weeks of failure.

Sehun sticks his tongue out and shrugs Zitao’s hand off his back, fingers tightening around his bag strap as he heads to the bus stop with his head held high.

He’d like to believe that contrary to what Zitao and Baekhyun thought, his dignity was still perfectly intact.

-

It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a simple ‘oh-that-guy-looks-really-cute-so-this-shop-is totally-worth-visiting’ kind of thing. Sehun blames the disproportionateness of his attitude entirely on Lu Han, to be honest, although Zitao has to shoulder some blame to a certain extent as well.

He blames it on the way Lu Han smiles at him whenever he enters the store with Zitao, on the way Lu Han walks over to him and tries to promote items every single time, on the way Lu Han smiles politely at him and still tries his best to reach out to him when Sehun gives him a monosyllabic reply, on the way –

Bzzzzt! Sehun unlocks his phone, clicks on the new text he'd just received, and nearly flings his phone out of the window when he is greeted by close-up of Lu Han from Zitao. He could practically count his eyelashes, imagine the way they'd brush against his cheek and –

I hate Zitao, he types in a new message, and sends it to Baekhyun. His fingers hover over the delete button to Zitao’s message and he huffs indignantly at the thought of Zitao giggling from the other end, almost dropping his phone when it vibrates again.

From: Baekhyun-hyung
Just ask him out already and maybe Zitao will just quit laughing at you!!

Sehun stares at the message for a good long moment and tosses his phone onto his bedside table as he flops on his bed, falling face first into his fluffy pillow.

-

It’s just a dare. From Zitao of all people. Nothing to worry about. Nope.

Sehun swallows and pushes the door open, ignoring the soft tinkling of the bells above him. His eyes quickly scan the shop and he lets out a sigh. Relief floods through him when his eyes don't spot a single strand of caramel-coloured hair. Great, he could just tell Zitao that there was no way he could carry out that dare today.

Sehun slowly picks out a huge packet of Smarties and sets it on the counter as he rummages through his bag for his wallet.

“That’s a lot of candy, don’t you think, Sehun-ah?”

He freezes as his wallet slips from his grasp and lands on the ground with a gentle thud. He picks up his wallet slowly and finally looks up to see Lu Han’s face split into an expression of curiousity tinged with helplessness. Shit.

As if on cue, Zitao enters the stall with Baekhyun trailing behind him. Zitao lets out a little yelp of excitement and Sehun can feel Baekhyun’s feline eyes piercing through his skull without even turning around.

Even Jongin looks slightly interested from where he’s standing, pretending to arrange the jellybeans. Lu Han clears his throat and says softly, “That will be 2,000 won.”

Sehun thumbs the notes in his wallet before pulling them out and shoving them into Lu Han’s palm. Lu Han pushes the notes into the cash register, takes out a couple of coins and hands them to Sehun with a smile. “Thank you and have a nice day, Sehun.”

It’s now or never. “Can I have your number?” Sehun blurts out.

He hears a snigger from Jongin across the store and Lu Han blinks his large doe-like eyes at him. Sehun swallows and amends, “I mean, my friend kind of dared me to or I’ll have to go shopping with him, which would really be horrendous and it’s not my type of scene and –“

“Sounds like Wu Fan-ge.”

Sehun blinks. “What?”

Lu Han laughs and gives a small shrug. “My boss, Wu Fan. He does that a lot too. He’s always threatening to dock my pay if I don’t go shopping with him for the smallest of things. He never does anyway.”

Right. That was dumb. Sehun inhales and mentally kicks himself as he turns and makes a beeline for the door. “Hey!”

He pauses, his hand on the door handle as he hears hurried footsteps behind him. “You forgot this.”

Lu Han smiles and hands him a receipt before he turns and heads back to the counter. Sehun feels his cheeks heating up and makes a mental note to murder Zitao with his Wushu stick before he shoves the door open and walks out.

He huffs, crumples up the receipt into a ball and attempts to shove it into the nearest trashcan, before he feels a hand gripping his wrist.

Jongin rolls his eyes and says, “You sure you want to do that after you’ve embarrassed yourself to such an extent already?”

Jongin lifts the lid of the trashcan and throws a huge black bag into it, before he heads back to the store. He pauses right before he opens the door and sighs, “For God’s sake, can you just check the back of the receipt.”

Sehun flips the receipt over just as Jongin opens the door for Baekhyun and Zitao before walking in. He blinks at the neat scrawl of ‘thought you’d never ask’ below the numbers and breaks into a smile, yelling, “Yes! I don’t have to go shopping with Zitao!”

Zitao gives Baekhyun a wink and says, “See hyung, threats always work.”

-

It takes five hours for Sehun to muster up his courage, along with persistent pestering from Zitao, before he sends Lu Han a text.

Hi, this is Sehun. Sorry, my friends are ridiculous.

He counts exactly 258 seconds before his phone beeps and Sehun lets out the breath he’s been holding.

It’s fine! Your friends are adorable ^^

Sehun pouts slightly, and types a quick reply before he throws his phone on the table. He’s the only one who should receive the compliment of ‘ being adorable’ from Lu Han, okay.

He doesn’t notice the seconds ticking by until he drops his phone onto his lap, eyelids fluttering shut. Sehun shakes his bangs lightly out of his eyes and momentarily panics when he realizes that he has approximately four hours of sleep before he has to go to school.

Sehun texts back a rushed reply and turns his phone off, before slumber engulfs him and candy canes and jellybeans flash before his eyes.

-

“I’m afraid I’m not taking any cash from you today, Sehunnie,” Lu Han hums as he rearranges the chocolate bars on the counter.

Sehun’s eyes widen and he sputters, “B-But why?”

“Too much candy is bad for your teeth!” Lu Han chirps and flashes him a bright smile.

Sehun blinks at him, mouth hanging open unattractively. Lu Han drops the smile and rolls his eyes, grumbling, “So, are you ever going to ask me out? Or are you just going to continue sending me texts until daybreak and buying sweets every day just to see me, like you’ve been doing for the past two weeks?”

Lu Han stares at him expectedly as Sehun tries to salivate his tongue enough to string together a proper sentence instead of gaping like a goldfish. “I… there’s a great café down the street. Do you wanna –“

“I get off in half an hour.”

-

“So, when are you free to go shopping?” Zitao enquires as he and Baekhyun stroll not so coincidentally into the café that Sehun and Lu Han are at.

Sehun blinks at him and whines, “But I took his number and –“

“The dare was to ask him out,” Baekhyun teases with a shake of his head and a lopsided grin.

“Hey, I asked him –“

“I had to prompt you, like right in your face,” Lu Han deadpans.

Sehun’s jaw falls open as Zitao exchanges a high-five with Lu Han and parrots his approval of Sehun’s new boyfriend loud enough for them to get weird stares from the other patrons.

Sehun sinks into his seat and throws packets of sugar at Zitao.

“Maybe I should introduce you to my boss, the one that you told Jongin looks as delicious as the pink icing on our Gingerbread cookies,” Lu Han teases.

Zitao’s eyes widen and he flushes, “He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that!”

Lu Han sticks out his tongue childishly as Sehun musters up the courage and grabs his hand under the table. He turns back to Sehun and flashes him a smile, the same smile that had Sehun falling from the start. Sehun tightens his hold on Lu Han’s hand and returns the smile, because nothing gets more perfect than this.

-

okay so this was how this fic came to be, weeps.

rachael: emmi's birthday is comming soon! like in 10 days omg.
me: WAYLT OMG. I DON'T HAVE TIME TO WRITE HER ANYTHING EJQPROUEOPIRUWO WEEPS.
emmi: amber jiejie, please write me something cute and happy with sweets and pillows.
chels: here's a prompt for you, amber, candystore!au !!! it's happy fic :D
me: ......cute. fluffy. :33333 worthy. i shall try, weeps.

okay, so this was the result, dies. possibly the last thing i'll write before i go on a hiatus until my exams are over, so weeps. ;~~~;

and okay emmi, you deserve a way nicer fic. i shall write you like some long fic which is happy and cute-ish and everything that i can't write when my exams are over okay ))): ilu bb ♥

and chels bb, thanks for the beta. you're the best beta in the world, meeps ♥

until next time you guys. (p.s. i should have included more of this flawless being in my fic ♥)

meeps, i also have twitter, if anyone cares. rolls away~

Love Three Times a Day (Hello Goodbye) - Part II

equalises — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 15:46:07 GMT

♥

“You didn’t reply to my texts.” Sehun’s tone is accusatory as he joins the queue behind Luhan at the noodle stall.

Luhan freezes, his fingers hovering over the keys of his phone. This was certainly unexpected, considering he had spent the week carefully planning his routes and earning raised eyebrows from Jongdae as he had forced them to take a detour just to avoid the Science students. He looks up, smiles and answers, “I saw them when I was half-awake and I forgot about them. Sorry, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun pouts and whines, “Go out with me after school then, to make up for it. I need to pick up something from the CD stall.”

Luhan hesitates, he should be packing for his flight the next day. “Sure,” he replies, despite himself, earning him an eye smile from Sehun, as he picks up his bowl of noodles and heads off.

He ignores the laugh he gets from Yixing when he exits class that day to find Sehun leaning against the opposite wall, staring down at his phone. Sehun looks up as he approaches, and shoots him a bright smile.

Sehun fills up the empty silence with stories of dance and his grades and how much of an ass Jongin has been to him, stories that Luhan’s missed listening to for the whole week, stories that make his heart clench without Sehun even trying.

“New Justin Bieber CD!” Sehun exclaims and waves a disc in front of Luhan’s face excitedly.

Luhan raises an eyebrow and glances at the track list. “Are you sure he’s good?”

Sehun puffs out his cheeks indignantly and nods eagerly, as he picks up a pair of headphones hanging on the nearby CD rack, pops the CD in and beckons Luhan to join him. Sehun presses the pair of headphones between his right ear and Luhan’s left ear, his right arm brushing against Luhan’s left one, as he hums the song under his breath.

Luhan watches him, eyes fixed on the way Sehun smiles with his eyes downcast, the way Sehun laughs breathily when he looks up and catches Luhan staring at him. He commits it all to memory and buys Sehun the CD, insisting that it’s a payback from the previous CD that Sehun gave him.

When he insists on paying for bubble tea at a stall that they pass by while walking to the bus stop, Sehun raises an eyebrow at him and jabs his side playfully, teasing, “Come on, I’m not that mad at you for not replying my texts. You don’t have to burn a hole in your wallet trying to make it up to me.”

Luhan doesn’t give a reply, instead he forces out a laugh that sounds foreign to his ears, that feels strange bubbling up his throat to escape his lips.

The bus comes too quickly – despite the way it’s teetering on its wheels, moving slowly towards the bus stop. Sehun smiles at Luhan and says, “Well, thanks for today, hyung.”

Luhan returns the smile, eyes slightly wet as he rubs a thumb across Sehun’s cheek. Sehun gives him a puzzled stare, but smiles nonetheless, eyes crinkling into the eye smile that Luhan’s lost resistance towards.

“Goodbye,” he says and boards the bus.

-

Lee Donghae is a nice hyung and an amazing dancer. Luhan eyes him as he shimmies his way around, unpacking his suitcase, singing an English R&B song under his breath. Luhan’s glad that if he has to be facing a stranger in his room for a month at least it’s Lee Donghae and his sweet smiles.

He turns on his phone before throwing it to one side, letting the messages and missed calls flow in, and turns to unpack his luggage. Donghae engages him in pointless small talk and Luhan smiles back politely, throwing questions in now and then, and supplies a little information about himself in return.

“Please drag me off the bed if I refuse to wake up,” Donghae tells Luhan an hour later as he flops belly first onto his bed and buries his head in his pillow.

Luhan laughs and gives him his word before turning to his phone, eyes widening at the screen. He has thirty missed calls and seventy new messages. Luhan takes a deep breath and opens his call log, his heart clenching as he sees seven missed calls from Yixing, five from Jongdae, three from Jongin and the remaining thirty-five from Sehun.

He pauses before opening his message inbox and sighs. He opens Yixing’s messages first, sniggering at the threats to skin him alive for not telling him about his Japan exchange trip, eventually reducing to begs for him to come back because Yixing will die if it’s just him and Jongdae for a month. Luhan ponders momentarily if assignments or Jongdae would accelerate Yixing’s death to a greater extent. He figures it’s probably the latter, given Yixing.

Luhan skims through a couple of other messages from his other friends, before he starts opening Sehun’s first message out of forty-five.

From: Sehun

Hyung, what’s this about Japan?

Delete.

From: Sehun

What’s going on? Yixing-hyung says he and Jongdae-hyung know nothing about this Japan exchange trip either!!!

Delete.

From: Sehun

Luhan. Why didn’t you tell me? Do I mean nothing to you?

Luhan presses a hand over his mouth and chokes a sob back, tossing his phone on the bedside table as he buries his head in his pillow and inhales, blinking the tears back.

He gets up ten minutes later and deletes everything.

-

Japan is really beautiful. There are cherry blossoms in full bloom everywhere Luhan looks and elaborately decorated curtains donning the entrance of every room they enter.

Donghae helps him take a photo with his instax camera of cherry blossoms floating down around him as Luhan attempts to catch one in his palm. He gives it to Luhan with a smile later that night, and Luhan decides three days later to send it back to Yixing, writing neatly on the bottom Just to let you know I’m alive.

He finds himself wishing that he had Donghae’s flawless language abilities or his natural charm with ahjummas and ahjusshis after spending three torturous days filled with failed attempts of buying things. He never failed to make Donghae burst into laughter with the exuberant prices he paid for more than half his things.

He watches in awe as Donghae does a little heart-shape to the ahjumma and walks back to him, a box of takoyaki in hand and shoves some change back into his pocket. Donghae passes him a toothpick as they sit down on the stone steps, the box of takoyaki between them.

“You have to teach me how to charm people sometime,” Luhan says as he chews thoughtfully.

Donghae looks up at him and shakes his fringe out of his eyes with a laugh. Luhan finds himself comparing it to Sehun’s laugh, thinking of how Donghae’s laugh isn’t half as high-pitched, but just as lovable.

And Luhan laughs along, thinking that maybe this will help him to forget.

-

“Do you have someone at home?”

Luhan glances up from his Calculus worksheet at Donghae, who’s lying on his belly on his bed, scribbling away in his notebook. He turns back to his worksheet and avoids his question carefully, saying, “Why do you ask?”

Donghae glances up from his notebook and taps a pen thoughtfully to his chin, contemplating his words. “Your phone rings at least twice a day.”

And he sends me five texts a day, one to wish me good morning and one to wish me good night, which doesn’t help the forgetting at all, Luhan adds silently. He shrugs and replies, “It’s just a friend who’s trying to get in touch with me. It’s no big deal, hyung.”

“It would be no big deal if he doesn’t call everyday, Luhan.”

Luhan casts his eyes towards Donghae, who simply shrugs and continues, “Normal people stop calling after their calls have been ignored for two weeks, just saying.”

Donghae turns back to his notebook and resumes his scribbling, leaving a confused Luhan staring into blank space, endless questions running through his mind.

-

It happens by accident.

The incessant ringing of his phone is driving him nuts and Luhan fumbles for it with his left hand, his eyes still focused on the Vectors question before him, as he randomly presses a button on his phone and tosses it aside.

“Luhan, oh god you’re finally picking up.”

Luhan literally jumps half a mile into the air and stares at his phone, before he hesitantly picks it up and presses it to his ear. “What the hell is wrong with you, god,” Yixing hisses into the phone, although there’s no venom in his voice.

“I miss you, Yixing.”

He hears a resigned sigh over the line before Yixing says, “I miss you too, Luhan. But god, why the hell did you leave without a word? Do you know how fucking worried I was about you, jesus.”

Luhan hears a slight rustling sound in the background and panics slightly as he hears a gruff ‘let me talk to him, Yixing’, his mind entertaining the thought of hanging up immediately. He doesn’t get enough time to muster up the courage as a low voice says, “Luhan.”

He gulps.

“The fuck is your problem.”

“Jongin,” Luhan starts.

Jongin growls into the phone and yells, “Don’t you fucking patronize me, Luhan. I thought you were a decent guy, so what the fuck happened?”

Luhan wishes he had more wit under such circumstances as he stumbles over his words and cries, “No, I can explain why I left!”

“Do you think this explanation should be for me?”

The silence drags over the line, hanging between them heavily, before Jongin sighs and continues, “Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but Sehun’s a mess right now and it’s your fault, so you come back and fix it. I want my disgusting aegyo-loving best friend back, god.”

“I don’t think Soojung will like that, honestly,” Luhan blurts out and slaps a hand over his mouth, cursing silently.

More silence and Luhan toys with the idea of laughing right then, shrugging his comment off as a joke, before he hears a scoff from the opposite side. “Is this what this whole escape plan is about? Seriously, hyung.”

“It isn’t an escape plan,” Luhan protests. “I’ll have you know this is a very enriching experience and –“

“Soojung’s dating Taemin,” Jongin interrupts, amusement colouring his tone and Luhan can see his smirk from here.

Luhan blinks and stammers, “B-but that night at the party, she and Sehun –“

“Yeah, she had a huge fight with Taemin over something dumb, like usual. And Sehun’s the only person with enough patience in our group to put up with her sobbing.”

“Oh,” Luhan says intelligently, pen rolling out of his grip.

Jongin laughs bitterly into the phone. “You’re an idiot, hyung.”

And the line goes dead.

-

“Have you ever majorly screwed up, hyung?” Luhan asks during dinner on their last day in Japan.

Donghae stares at him and swallows his udon. “Everyone screws up from time to time. What context are we talking about in this case?”

Luhan stirs his soba around and sighs. “I came on this trip without telling my friends because there’s this guy that I want to run away from. I thought he was dating and god, it’s a huge mess.”

“Is that the guy whose calls you keep ignoring?” Donghae asks, eyes bright.

Luhan takes a mouthful of soba and nods solemnly, his eyes fixed on his soba.

“Talk it out with him, Luhan. If he hasn’t given up on you this whole month, there’s still room for redemption.”

“But I don’t know how to face him anymore, hyung! I just left like some giant asshole and god, he must be hurting,” Luhan says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Then give up. Walk away now while your heart’s still intact.”

He glances up at Donghae, who’s fixing him with a stare, a soft smile on his lips. Donghae rests a hand on top of his and asks, “But you can’t, can you?”

Luhan breaks the gaze and stares down at Donghae’s fingers, warm and heavy on his, before shaking his head, blinking back tears. Donghae threads his fingers through Luhan’s and lifts their hands up, saying with a smile, “So, go back to Korea and grab his hand like this. And remember not to let go this time, Luhan.”

He drops their hands and turns back to his food to resume his slurping.

“Thanks, hyung,” Luhan says softly.

Donghae beams at him, ruffles Luhan’s hair and proceeds to creep him out with ghost stories over sake.

Luhan laughs too much when he’s intoxicated, body limp against Donghae’s, pillowing his head against Donghae’s chest. He feels arms around him, lifting him up, before there’s warmth all around and Luhan tugs the blanket closer to his body.

The last thing he hears is Donghae’s soft ‘good night’ before he drifts off.

-

“Please don’t cut off my balls,” Luhan whines as Yixing nearly drops his iPod while walking into class the next day.

Yixing’s jaw is agape, before he breaks into a sprint and crushes Luhan in a hug, breathing warmly down Luhan’s neck, fingers running through Luhan’s brown locks.

“You’re a giant asshole for the record,” Yixing comments when he pulls away, delivering a few light punches to Luhan’s arm.

Kim-seonsaengnim makes Luhan describe his experience in Japan, which eats up the entire math period, much to Jongdae and Yixing’s delight.

“I’m buying you lunch for saving us from Trigonometric equations, hyung,” Jongdae cheers as he picks up his bag and bounces out of class.

Luhan rolls his eyes and nudges Yixing in the ribs as Yixing nods enthusiastically. He steps out of the classroom and pauses mid-step, smile wiped off his face, heart caught in his throat.

Sehun’s hair is shorter, a lighter shade of brown. His eyes are emotionless as they lock with Luhan’s and Luhan notes the darkening of the eyebags on the skin beneath his pupils. Luhan freezes, expecting Sehun to brush past or to throw a sarcastic comment in his path, just anything to make him feel better and to ease Luhan’s guilt.

What he doesn’t expect is Sehun giving a soft smile and sighing, “Hyung.”

It causes a painful contraction of his heart which threatens to squeeze all the oxygen out of Luhan’s lungs, because he put the weariness there.

The air hangs thickly between them, before Luhan manages a smile in return and asks, “How have you been, Sehun?”

Sehun’s laugh is devoid of emotion, sending needles directly through the center of Luhan’s heart.

“I’m great,” Sehun starts. “I still dance too much and study too little. Cafeteria food still sucks and I still have an unhealthy obsession with bubble tea.”

He takes a step towards Luhan, voice dropping to a whisper, “Everything’s been perfect. Except you’re not here with me.”

Sehun side steps Luhan and walks off, ignoring Luhan’s cry of ‘Sehun-ah’.

Jongin shoots him a look and brushes pass, knocking shoulders with Luhan and giving Yixing a curt nod.

This is good, Luhan thinks repeatedly to himself. This is part of reason he went to Japan; because Sehun deserves better, he deserves someone who would brush away his tears rather than generate them. He –

Luhan’s phone vibrates in his pocket and he fishes it out with trembling fingers, opening the text message.

From: Donghae-hyung

‘Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase.’
- Martin Luther King Jr.

He turns and sees Donghae shoot him a smile before ducking into a classroom, as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

He turns to Jongdae and Yixing and starts, “Guys, I need a favour.”

-

“This is embarrassing. Why can’t we sing something else,” Jongdae moans as he buries his face in his hand.

Yixing strums a few chords on his guitar and mumbles, “You’re not allowed to yell at me or insult me if I play the wrong notes. If you want something perfect, you should use the instrumental version instead, Luhan.”

“I’ll take back my offer of buying you guys food and giving consultation for math,” Luhan threatens, just as the door to the dance studio opens.

Sehun freezes at the scene before him and turns on his heel, before Soojung stops him. He shoots her a glare and Luhan voices out, “Don’t get mad at her. I begged her to help me because Jongin doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”

Jongin raises an eyebrow from the studio door and says, “You got that damn right. But considering we’re already here, let’s listen to what he has to say, Sehunnie.”

Sehun gives a resigned sigh as he leans against one of the mirrored walls and stares at them expectedly. Luhan gives Yixing a nod and Yixing wipes his palms down the sides of his jeans before he starts strumming.

Luhan ends up coming in a bar early and clashing with Jongdae’s words, although no one could really tell considering how their English sounded more like Korean mixed with Chinese instead. At least we’re in tune, Luhan consoles himself as he presses on and prays Jongdae does the same.

When Luhan ends the last note, Jongdae drops his face back into his hands and Yixing nearly falls off his chair. Jongin looks at them like they’re circus freaks on display, a small smirk playing his lips. Sehun clears his throat after a couple of seconds and says, “Is that Justin Bieber?”

“Yes!” Luhan exclaims as Jongdae sighs in relief beside him.

Soojung throws a smile at Sehun and comments, “At least they sound better than you and Jongin’s imitation.”

Jongin makes a face at her and she sticks out her tongue in response. Sehun ignores both of them and keeps his eyes locked on Luhan’s. Luhan takes a deep breath and says, “I… I’m really sorry, Sehun, for leaving without a word and for upsetting you. And, nothing I say is probably going to make up for it, but please don’t stay mad at me?”

Sehun stares at him, cocks his head slightly away from Luhan and says, “Can you give us a moment?”

Soojung pouts cutely at him, before she drags Jongin out of the room, with him kicking and grumbling the entire way.

Yixing laughs and leans against the wall, only to receive a raised eyebrow from Sehun a second later. He points at himself and makes a sad puppy-like face that gets ignored as he drags Jongdae out of the room. “Holler if you need us, we’ll be outside eavesdropping,” Jongdae calls out as he disappears from the dance studio.

Luhan watches the door swing shut and turns to Sehun. Sehun stares at him unblinkingly and takes a couple of steps towards him, stopping several steps away from Luhan.

“Apologise.”

Luhan blinks as his throat dries up and he opens his mouth unintelligently, as Sehun continues, voice rising with each sentence, “Apologise, hyung. You don’t get to walk into my life with that smile and that face only to leave when you’re tired. You don’t get to flirt with me and throw me aside once you’ve got me hooked on every word you say, every move you make.”

He pauses and looks away from Luhan. His voice drops to an almost-whisper and he says, “You don’t get to return my heart after I’ve wrapped it painstakingly for you.”

Sehun’s eyes are shining when he looks back at Luhan and he finishes, “So you have to apologise, hyung. Now. I want an apology now so that my heart can start working again.”

Luhan exhales and closes the remaining distance between them in five steps, pulling Sehun towards him and buries his head in Sehun’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Luhan whispers into his shoulder, as Sehun’s bag slips from his grip and falls with a gentle thud on the ground.

“I thought you were straight.” Lu Han pulls away and drops his gaze. “Soojung.”

“You assumed.” Sehun’s voice is soft, and Lu Han has to strain to hear him. Lu Han gulps. The nausea hits him, a gut-wrenching wave, and his stomach churns. Sehun’s right. He had assumed, and it – the misunderstanding, Japan, hurting Sehun like this – had been his fault, and god, he was so stupid. “Hyung, I –“

“I’m sorry.”

“Hyung, you –“

“I’m sorry,” Lu Han continues, voice hoarse. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Sehun stares at him, before he hesitantly presses fingers to the sides of Luhan’s face and breathes him in, swallows his apologies as his lips press and push against Luhan’s. Luhan’s hands fall to Sehun’s waist as he pushes back desperately, lips sliding against Sehun’s, grasping whatever he can.

-

“What do you mean you’re not dating him yet?” Donghae probes as he takes another mouthful of cheesecake.

Luhan shrugs and stirs his coffee, answering, “He kind of freaked out after kissing me that day and ran off. After that, he’s just been kind of avoiding me like the plague.”

Donghae kicks his shin under the table and Luhan jumps slightly, making a face at him. “So what are you waiting for? Track him down. Confess to him, god, Luhan.”

“How do I–“

“You’re not expecting me to teach you that too, are you?”

Luhan shakes his head and watches Donghae finish up the last bite of his cheesecake, licking his fork clean. Donghae stands up, gives him a pat on the back and walks off after saying, “I await your good news.”

-

It’s Sehun’s turn to play hide-and-seek and Luhan finally catches him as he walks out of his last class on Thursday. Soojung gives Luhan a sweet smile and tugs at Jongin’s shirt until he moves, grumbling that he won’t let Luhan off that easily.

“Want to go grab some bubble tea at that stall we went the other time?” Luhan asks as he swiftly blocks off Sehun’s escape path with his body.

“Sure,” Sehun replies after a long pause, although his eyes don’t meet Luhan’s, his body turning in the direction of the school gate.

The trip is more awkward than Luhan imagines, because Sehun whips out his iPod almost immediately after they walk out of the school gate and plugs in. Luhan swallows and uses the silence to plot his great speech, only to get distracted whenever Sehun’s hand brushes against his as he changes songs on his iPod.

Sehun’s iPod runs out of battery when they get off the bus at Myeongdong and Luhan’s pulse speeds up as Sehun coils his earphones around his iPod and tosses it into the front pocket of his bag.

They walk in silence towards the bubble tea stall, Luhan inching closer to Sehun as the crowd shoves past him in the opposite direction. The maddening warmth of Sehun’s fingers brushing across his causes Luhan to inhale deeply. Faith. And he grabs Sehun’s hand, fingers coiled tightly around it, as he turns his head in the opposite direction.

Sehun doesn’t respond for a few seconds, then his hand shifts under Luhan’s, and Luhan lets go just as Sehun threads his fingers through Luhan’s, clasping their hands tightly together. Luhan turns to him, but Sehun’s eyes are scanning the stalls around them instead. He doesn’t miss the small smile toying the corners of Sehun’s lips.

Sehun buys Luhan bubble tea this time, insisting it’s payback, his tongue curling around the word, causing Luhan to shrink back as guilt eats into his heart.

“So, what does this mean?” Sehun asks as he holds up their entwined hands while walking down a relatively quieter part of Myeongdong.

Luhan pauses and throws Sehun a megawatt smile. He stands on tiptoes and presses a kiss to Sehun’s lips, breathing against them, “It means I love you.”

-

“Is this going to be a common occurrence everyday?” Jongdae asks with a raised eyebrow as he swallows a piece of sushi.

Luhan feeds Sehun a clump of rice and asks, “What are you referring to?”

Jongin rolls his eyes and does an exaggerated gesture towards both of them just as Sehun rests his head against Luhan’s arm and looks up at Luhan with a bright smile. Yixing pales and mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”

“I doubt you’ll be less disgusting if you had a boyfriend, Yixing,” Jongin comments.

Yixing makes a face and replies, “I take absolute offence in that. Though I’m not sure if the boyfriend part annoys me more or the accusation of me being disgusting.”

Luhan laughs as Sehun sits up and leans towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He blushes and pulls back a little, exclaiming, “Not in front of them!”

Sehun grins at him and teases, “I can do a lot worse.”

He presses his lips against Luhan just as Jongin shrieks, “Get a fucking room!” and throws random clumps of rice at them.

“On the other hand, go right ahead with the public display of affection. I couldn’t pay more to see a crazed Jongin,” Yixing comments.

This results in Jongin whacking Yixing for five minutes until Yixing apologises mockingly, as Jongdae laughs obnoxiously in the background.

Sehun takes this opportunity to lean towards him and whisper, “For the record hyung, I love you too.”

-

urgh, undoubtedly the worst thing i have ever written in my entire life. i feel so embarrassed to be gifting this to you, chels. but um yes, just a short sappy note here to thank you for always ploughing through my fics and helping me to beta it and stuff ;~~~; you have no idea how much ilu, sobs.

thanks to halcyondusk for beta-ing it, and sobs i hope the final product didn't upset you, jo ;~~~;

shall leave you guys with this, thank you for reading this ridiculously long fic ;~~~;

Love Three Times a Day (Hello Goodbye) - Part I

equalises — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 15:36:28 GMT

Love Three Times a Day (Hello Goodbye)
11,512w; PG
Sehun/Luhan, slight Taemin/Krystal
Summary: Luhan's never liked being thrown out of control, unpredictability and dancing in public. Right now, he might just have to learn to live with it. highschool!au, side story to Falling in Love (Is Hard on the Knees).
A/N: written for the sweetest sunlit ♥ also, slight correction on it being a highschool!au instead of a college!au as stated initially.

“Please,” Yixing repeats for the fifth time in half an hour. “You’re my best buddy. If you don’t agree to help me, I have no one else to turn to.”

Jongdae glances up from his phone and frowns. “Hey, what about me, Zhang Yixing?”

Yixing stares at him and leans against Luhan’s arm, throwing in a little pout as he stares at Luhan, whining, “Please, Luhan. I would like to bring an actual dance machine rather than a self-proclaimed one.”

Luhan ignores Jongdae’s ‘hey, that’s rude’, scribbles something in his notebook and answers, “And for the tenth time, no, Yixing. Exams are around the corner, I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll do your homework for a month,” Yixing offers.

This earns him a snort from Jongdae and Luhan stops scribbling long enough to throw him a glance. “Thanks Yixing, but I don’t want to fail all my assignments,” he deadpans.

Yixing sighs and flops on his desk in resignation, mumbling, “I miss the days when we would dance until we were so tired that we would just lie on the floor until the security guard chased us home because he had to lock up the school.”

Luhan’s hand stops moving as he recalls the time when Yixing had failed all his midyear papers. They had danced until Yixing fell to his knees, crumbling into Luhan’s arms as they encircled him, tears rolling down his cheeks. He mentally curses at the lack of time he’s been spending with Yixing lately in exchange for bonding time with his books.

Luhan casts a sidelong glance at Yixing, relents and asks, “If I agree to go to your dance class as your dance partner, will you please study for the upcoming math test?”

“Yes!” Yixing exclaims as he bolts up, before adding, “No promises to pass though.”

Luhan sighs and nods, earning a beam and an excited hug from Yixing. He supposes this is the best deal he can get.

-

Yixing’s stretching his hamstrings when Luhan walks into class in a black shirt, baggy grey sweats and a cap pulled over his brown hair. “Luhan-ge, over here!”

Luhan makes his way over to Yixing and dumps his bag on the ground, next to Yixing’s backpack. Yixing smiles at him and waves his hand towards the boy standing beside him, saying, “This is Kim Jongin.”

Kim Jongin has black-cropped hair and a sweet smile as he holds his hand out to Luhan. Luhan shakes it firmly, giving him a once-over and mentally praises Jongin’s fashion sense, before his eyes fall onto his shoes. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Jongin’s feet shuffle slightly backward and Luhan glances up, gives a sheepish smile as he drops Jongin’s hand.

Yixing clears his throat and asks, “So, where’s your dance partner, Jongin?”

“God, why does he always –“

Jongin stops abruptly as a guy with autumn brown hair dashes in, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He pauses before them, and dumps his sling bag on the floor, black jacket joining the heap a couple of seconds later. “Sorry Jongin-ah, bus broke down on the way here,” he says, pouting cutely at Jongin.

Jongin rolls his eyes. “Your aegyo doesn’t work on me, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun threads fingers through his bangs and continues pouting at Jongin, trying to garner Jongin’s sympathy about his predicament. Sehun pauses mid-whine, as his eyes finally fall on Yixing and Luhan, his mouth forming a small O shape.

“This is Yixing, my dance classmate,” Jongin says, waving a hand absent-mindedly at Yixing. “And this, is Luhan, his dance partner for today.”

Luhan smiles warmly at Sehun, as he extends a hand. Sehun blinks at him and takes a small step behind Jongin, a careful smile playing his lips. Jongin nudges him in the ribs and Sehun puffs out his cheeks, poking him back in the shoulder. “He’s shy,” Jongin translates, as Luhan’s hand falls awkwardly back to his side.

Yixing stifles a laugh just as music blares out of the speakers and they all scurry to random positions, causing Luhan to end up behind Sehun and his white sleeveless shirt for the entire practice.

-

“I swear you’re a better dancer than that, ge,” Yixing complains as he attempts to steal food off Jongdae’s tray during lunch. “What was with all the slipping during class? It’s so unlike you!”

Luhan huffs. “I couldn’t see the dance instructor half the time because we were standing too far back!”

Yixing raises an eyebrow. “You sure the hips of the guy in front of us didn’t serve as a distraction?”

Luhan flushes at this and Jongdae glances up from his phone. “You met a hot guy?”

Yixing grins and begins rattling off about the dance practice, growing more excited as Luhan shouts out protests of Yixing’s exaggeration. He was not drooling at the way Sehun’s hips had moved and the way he had thrust his pelvis. And his brain was definitely not a puddle of mush, like Yixing had described animatedly, because of the flawless way Sehun had twirled and swayed to the music. His brain was just… less solid than usual.

Luhan had not noticed any of those kick-ass dance moves at all. And he definitely did not have a thing for dancers.

“Yixing,” Luhan says and rubs his eyes with one hand, as the other grips Yixing’s wrist.

Yixing pauses mid-sentence and shoots him a questioning look. Luhan gives him a look of bewilderment and tilts his head slightly to the left. “Is that Jongin?”

There’s a long pause, before Yixing replies, “Yes. God, don’t you know that Jongin goes to the same school as us? He has a freaking fan club for Christ’s sake.”

“But I’ve never seen him around,” Luhan comments.

Yixing gives him a look that teeters between judging and sheer amusement. “It probably has something to do with him being a Science student? How can you not know him. Everyone knows who he is, Luhan.”

Jongdae gives a grief nod next to Yixing, as Yixing continues rambling on. But Luhan barely registers the rest of Yixing’s words as his eyes scan the crowd, before they fall on a mushroom head of brown hair. Jongdae stifles a laugh and says, “Oh Sehun is the guy with the sexy hips?”

Before Luhan can answer, he sees Sehun turn in his direction and throw a lazy smile. Luhan swallows and is about to smile back when he sees Soojung walk towards Sehun. Sehun’s hand falls easily on her waist as she leans towards him and whispers something. Of course. Luhan clamps his jaw shut and answers, “His hips are too thin for my liking.”

Yixing stifles a laugh as Jongdae waggles his eyebrows in glee. Luhan ignores both of them and dumps his barely-touched tray into the nearest trashcan, grabs his bag and walks out of the cafeteria.

Damn all the good-looking guys and their heterosexuality.

-

He doesn’t do this often, because he’s an honors student, which means books and not sluggish movements to Korean pop songs that he shouldn’t listening to or giving a damn about. Luhan mentally counts the number of hours of sleep he sacrifices and affirms its worth as he feels exhaustion take over his ability to think. He’s missed this.

Luhan collapses to the ground as Mirotic comes to an end, breath falling out in puffs, as he runs fingers through his bangs.

“Um.”

He jumps and turns around, mentally cursing his luck when he sees Sehun’s clutching his bag with one hand. “Sorry, I think I came into the wrong room.”

“No,” Luhan exclaims, as he pushes his body off the ground. “I… This was the only empty room, so I just thought I could come in here for a while…”

He trails off and swallows as Sehun continues fixing him with that stare. “I’m sorry, I’ll just be leaving now.”

Luhan grabs his backpack and dashes for the door. So much for clearing my mind. His fingers twist around the doorknob just as he hears a soft ‘sunbae’. Luhan turns around slowly and stares at Sehun, who’s snuffing his sneakers on the ground. “Sunbae,” he repeats.

“Yes?”

Sehun pauses and drops his bag on the ground, adjusts his sweater and says, “I kind of saw you dancing when I came in. And, um, could you teach me how to do that side-step thing that you did four beats before the song ended? It looked really cool and stuff, yeah.”

Luhan blinks at him and places his bag lightly on the ground, fingers fisting the bottom of his shirt. He takes a deep breath and shifts his body to the side in one fluid movement. When he glances up, Sehun is staring at him in awe. “This move?” He asks.

Sehun nods eagerly, his sleepy eyes lighting up. Luhan repeats the step in slow fluid motions, his eyes fixed on the way Sehun moves with grace; the way his feet slide across the ground and bridges the distance between them. “That’s it,” Luhan whispers after five minutes, as he glances up at Sehun and throws him a small smile.

Sehun blinks at him and his lips curl upwards slowly, as his eyes drop to the ground and he answers, “Yeah, thanks.”

“Sehun-ah, there you are! Why did you – oh.”

Soojung pauses mid-sentence, her fingers still wrapped around the doorknob, as she offers Luhan a small smile and bows her head politely. Luhan returns the gesture just as Jongin pushes past her, earning a whine from Soojung, and exclaims, “Hey Luhan, fancy seeing you here.”

Luhan shrugs and picks up his bag from the ground, gives Jongin a small smile and answers, “I was just leaving.”

He pushes past Jongin and Soojung without a word.

Luhan proceeds to ignore Yixing’s repeated attempts at finding out where he had been for the past half an hour when he finally reaches class.

-

It comes as a shock to all three of them when they walk out of class to find Sehun and Jongin waiting for them. Sehun looks up as Luhan’s contemplating the fastest way to get the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He clears his throat and bounces on the balls of his feet, as Jongin approaches Yixing.

Luhan ends up staring at his textbook, because Jongdae shoves him in the ribs repeatedly and god Sehun isn’t blind.

“Luhan!”

Luhan jumps and nearly drops his textbook as he glances up at Jongin, who’s smiling at him brilliantly. “Luhan,” he repeats in a slightly softer voice. “Yixing’s going to help Sehun and I think up choreography for our dance competition piece. Do you want to come along?”

“No, I can’t,” Luhan starts, because he’s sure his performance on Saturday had been anything but astounding. “I mean I can’t dance and –“

“But Sehunnie says you danced flawlessly to Dong Bang Shin Ki’s ‘Mirotic’ just now. It took me some time to master that, so you’ve got to be something.” Jongin protests.

Sehun puffs out his cheeks and proceeds to whack Jongin, muttering, “You’re not supposed to say that, oh god.”

Yixing raises an eyebrow at Luhan, as a smile makes its way to his face. “You were dancing in school, Lulu?”

Luhan wonders what’s easier – digging a hole in the ground to hide in or smashing Yixing’s face with his textbook. He shrugs, makes an excuse of class starting soon and walks off briskly, ignoring Jongdae’s sniggers and the laughter threatening to spill out of Yixing’s lips.

-

Yixing manages to drag him to the dance studio eventually. They walk in mid-practice just in time to see Sehun do a half body-flip, his shirt lifting up slightly to reveal a flat, pale stomach. Luhan swallows and tries to keep a straight face, as Sehun lands on his feet and gives his shirt a firm tug.

“Yixing, Luhan, you guys made it!” Jongin says with a small wave, as he pauses the music and approaches them.

Sehun glances at them, flicks his bangs out of his eyes and gives a small bow.

“So,” Yixing says after several moments of whispering with Jongin. “I need to help Jongin check out a couple of moves he added in the dance. Why don’t you go over and help Sehun?”

Luhan narrows his eyes at Yixing, as Jongin nods and tugs at Yixing’s sleeve. “I hate you,” Luhan says in Chinese, earning a bright grin from Yixing as he gets dragged away by Jongin.

Sehun’s staring at his phone when Luhan approaches, stopping a couple of steps away. He clears his throat after several moments and asks, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh,” Sehun says and finally looks up from his phone.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and avoids Luhan’s eyes. Luhan hesitates and prompts, “Do you want to show me what you and Jongin have thought up of so far?”

Sehun drops his phone back into his bag and mutters, “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

He pushes a button on the boom box lying on the ground and does a small stretch, shirt riding up slightly, as he waits for the music to start. Luhan watches Sehun glide across the floor, sneakers making slight screeching noises. He watches the way Sehun’s arms move to the beat, striking out moves that go against their slimness.

“That’s it,” Sehun pants, as he struts over to the boom box and pauses the music. “All we’ve got so far.”

Luhan nods, as he swallows rapidly, his mind still flashing with images of the way Sehun had danced. He hesitates and says softly, “The flow seems to be a little off at around the second last bar before you ended?”

“Yeah, Jongin’s been trying to work that bit out. I can’t figure out what’s wrong, but…” Sehun drifts off with a small sigh.

“Why don’t you try putting in that move I showed you earlier on?” Luhan suggests.

Sehun pauses and exhales before he does a move and links it up with Luhan’s dance move. He carries on, connecting it with a body roll and pauses abruptly, eyes burning. “I need to write this down before I forget it,” he exclaims and scrambles to his bag.

He grabs a notebook and scribbles down some stuff, with Luhan peering over his shoulder, a good distance away. Sehun moves his arms, pauses and scribbles more stuff down, before he mutters, “Shit, what did I do after this part…?”

“You did that swaying thing and a spin,” Luhan answers softly.

Sehun glances up, throws him a small smile and replies, “Thanks, sunbae.”

He shifts his bag slightly and pats the ground next to him, chewing on his lower lip as he glances up at Luhan. Luhan gives him a grin in return and plops down next to him, such that Luhan can feel the sweat on Sehun’s arms when Sehun leans towards him and asks him for choreography ideas, voice soft and entrancing.

-

It’s become a ritual – splitting up into pairs to work on dance moves before rejoining and deciding which moves go together and which moves should be eliminated entirely.

“Luhan-hyung,” Sehun says abruptly during their fifth practice, while they await Jongin and Yixing’s return.

Luhan sits down beside Sehun and threads fingers through his hair, because he’s learnt by the third practice that it eases the tension in Sehun’s shoulders and brings that lazy smile that captivates Luhan to his lips. “What’s up?”

Sehun glances at him and responds, “I’m failing math. My teacher says if I fail the next test, she’ll call my parents and they’ll be so mad at me, hyung. I just… I just need a couple of days to study, so I won’t be around for the rest of the week until my test is over.”

“Why don’t you teach him, Luhan?”

Luhan jumps a little as Yixing and Jongin walk back, sweat dripping off Yixing’s bangs as he gives Luhan a bright smile.

“What, I –“

“You’re good at math, hyung?” Sehun asks. “Can you tutor me?”

Yixing nods excitedly and responds on Luhan’s behalf, “He’s the best in our class!”

Luhan opens his mouth to protest that he can’t tutor and dance and study with only twenty-four hours a day, but he sees the way Sehun stares at him with bright eyes, and he nods in resignation instead.

Jongin claps his hands together and says, “It’s decided then! Luhan will tutor Sehun and they can come up with dance moves in between math questions for Sehun to rest his brain. It’s the perfect solution! Oh god, you actually have good ideas, Yixing!”

This results in Yixing whacking Jongin, insisting that his ideas are always brilliant, okay. Sehun laughs it off as Luhan runs fingers through his hair and stresses about how the hell he’s supposed to generate a passing grade in less than a week.

-

Sehun isn’t that bad, really. He’s just out of practice and he just can’t sit still long enough to do anything apart from dance.

“Math is boring,” Sehun declares after five minutes of math drilling with Luhan.

Luhan taps a pen to his chin and grins. “How about I strike a deal with you?”

Sehun raises an eyebrow and props his head up on one hand, throwing Luhan his usual lazy smile and a small nod. Luhan continues, “For every five math questions that you answer correctly, we’ll think up of a dance move alright?”

It turns out to be more effective than Luhan expects, because by the end of an hour, they’ve come up with five dance moves and Luhan’s never seen anyone do math with such accuracy or speed.

Sehun’s at his seventh set of questions when Yixing sends Luhan a music file along with a long spazzy text regarding JJ Lin’s newest song. Luhan opens the file and starts humming along to the song after several bars, singing along softly to the lyrics that Yixing had texted over.

“Can we make a deal?”

Luhan stops singing and turns to look at Sehun, who’s dropped his pen on the table and is looking at Luhan with apt interest. “Sure,” Luhan answers.

Sehun smiles and says, “If I complete these next five questions, can you sing something for me?”

This causes Luhan to flail internally as his brain scrambles for an excuse. “This has nothing to do with math or your dance competition!” He exclaims.

“It’s a form of motivation,” Sehun counters with a small smirk.

Luhan opens his mouth and shuts it as his brain fails comes up with a reasonable counter argument. “Fine, I’ll sing you my favourite Chinese song. But only if you pass your math test.”

Sehun’s eyes light up and he beams, answering, “It’s a deal then, hyung.”

-

“Fifty-three marks,” Sehun announces and waves his math test paper in front of Luhan’s face almost immediately after Jongin and Yixing leave.

Luhan takes the paper and clicks his tongue, pointing out Sehun’s careless mistakes until he sees a small pout forming on Sehun’s lips. He hesitates and rests a hand on Sehun’s wrist, says, “But good job nonetheless. I’m sure your parents will be proud of you, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun smiles and curls his fingers around Luhan’s hand. Luhan freezes, and he prays Sehun can’t feel the way his blood is rushing through his arteries. Sehun takes his paper from Luhan, leans towards him and drops his voice to a whisper, “Is that all you have to say to me, hyung?”

Luhan blinks at him, his brain saturated with dance moves that he had been intending to show Sehun. Sehun puffs out his cheeks and whines, “The promise? The one you made during our tutoring session?”

Oh, Luhan realises, his hand brushing his fringe out of his eyes in an attempt to shield his almost-red cheeks from Sehun.

Relax, just like how you always do in front of Yixing and Jongdae. Luhan opens his mouth and sings, Chinese rolling off his tongue as his heart clenches at how much he misses speaking the language, despite him and Yixing switching to it at times to annoy Jongdae.

When he’s done, Sehun is looking at him with a dazed look. He claps cutely, hands poised right below his chin. Luhan exhales shakily and throws Sehun a small smile, before he panics and asks, “What’s wrong?”

The crease across Sehun’s forehead doesn’t lessen and Luhan freaks out about his pitching and momentarily curses mentally for not choosing to sing a Korean song, or something Sehun could understand, instead.

“Sehun-ah,” he starts.

“This is unfair.” Sehun comments, puffing out his cheeks. “How can you be good at singing and dancing, hyung? What happened to God being fair?”

Luhan pauses and laughs, his eyes folding into tiny creases. Sehun pouts for a while more, before he breaks into a fit of laughter, bangs falling adorably into his eyes.

Sehun gets to his feet and starts stretching, all the while complaining that God had obviously been biased when He was creating Luhan. Luhan shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh, because God obviously knew what He was doing when He decided to drop Sehun into Luhan’s life and turn it upside-down.

-

“Are you free after school today?” Sehun asks, as he and Jongin pause at Luhan’s table during lunch.

Jongdae hides a laugh behind his hand as Yixing exchanges weird eyebrow gestures with Jongin. Luhan swallows his rice and answers, “But there’s no practice today.”

“Yeah, but there’s this place that I want to show you.”

Luhan mentally counts the hours he can spend studying for the upcoming midyear examinations, and opts to push it to the back of his mind. “Sure,” he says with a smile.

Sehun beams at Luhan and Luhan’s heart clenches in approval. “See you then,” Sehun says and delivers a well-aimed kick at Jongin’s shin, urging him forward to where Taemin is waving wildly at them.

“What about your academics, Mister Honors?” Jongdae teases mockingly.

Luhan gives him a mock smile in return, ignoring the way Yixing and Jongdae start making kissy-faces at him and imitating his responses to Sehun.

Bitches are just jealous that they don’t have hot guys to hang out with after school.

-

Luhan blinks at the way the door to the stall before them teeters on its edge. It makes a loud creaking noise that causes Luhan to cringe as Sehun holds it open for him. He thinks there are more appealing ways to die, but Luhan lets it go as he sees the way Sehun smiles at him, eyes disappearing into lines, and steps in.

“Sehun-ah, this came a week ago! I saved you a copy.” The ahjusshi behind the counter exclaims and slides a purple CD across the counter to him.

Sehun’s eyes light up and he exclaims, “Thank you, ahjusshi! I meant to get this earlier, but school’s been crazy.”

The ahjusshi smiles at him fondly, before his eyes fall on Luhan and he asks, “Brought a friend today?”

Sehun looks up from his CD and nods. He asks, “Ahjusshi, do you still have those Mando-pop CDs that you let Soojung and I listen to the other time?”

A box is propped up on the counter after several moments and Sehun turns to Luhan with a blinding smile, giving him a small nod towards the box.

Luhan hesitantly peers into the box, hands flipping CDs carefully, after throwing the ahjusshi a careful smile. He digs through piles of CDs, barely registering the familiar scrawl of the words before him as his mind replays Sehun’s words – Soojung and I.

He snaps out of it as his fingers brush across a hard casing and he pulls it out. JJ Lin’s debut album. Luhan brushes off the dust on it and examines it under the dim yellow lighting of the shop. Sehun materializes behind him and says, “We’ll take this CD and the one you reserved for me, ahjusshi.”

Before Luhan can even protest, Sehun shoves a bill at the ahjusshi and tells him to keep the change with a smile.

“Sehun-ah,” Luhan whispers.

“It’s a gift.”

Luhan blinks at him and blurts out, “But why?”

Sehun smiles at him and stares into his eyes, replies, “Because I like you.”

Luhan freezes, unable to hear anything above the roaring of his pulse. There’s a gentle breeze rustling Luhan’s hair, yet Luhan feels that there isn’t enough air for his lungs, as he just stares at Sehun – at the way he drops his gaze the moment the words leave his lips and the way he pushes his hair behind his ear with slender fingers.

He regains his composure and laughs, answers, “I like you too, Sehun-ah. You’re like the little brother I’ve never had.”

“Ah, right,” Sehun says and gives Luhan a smile in return.

Luhan tries to ignore the foreign sound lingering at the back of Sehun’s laugh, and convinces himself that the smile Sehun gives him seems forced only in his mind.

-

Luhan busies himself on the bus ride back from Myeongdong committing every word in his History textbook to memory, as Sehun slurps noisily at the reminder of his bubble tea beside him. Luhan notes exhaustion weighing down on Sehun’s shoulders, which is hardly surprising considering the three-hour practice they had with Jongin insisting that Sehun’s hip thrusts aren’t perfect, as far as he’s concerned.

Luhan doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with Sehun’s hip thrusts, or anything Sehun dances to for that matter. When he voices it out to Yixing, Yixing rolls his eyes and shakes his head, insults of ‘such a lost case’ falling from his lips.

“Why don’t you get some rest, Sehun-ah? I’ll wake you up when I get off the bus.” Luhan says without glancing up from his textbook.

“I’m fine,” Sehun answers, although Luhan can hear the fatigue laden behind it.

Eventually, it is Sehun who wakes Luhan up with whispers of ‘you’ll miss your stop if you continue sleeping, hyung’. It’s enough to make Luhan jerk awake and run off the bus with a rushed ‘goodbye, see you tomorrow’.

He waves from his bus stop to Sehun, until the bus pulls out of sight, before he heads home.

It’s only after drenching himself in a cold shower that Luhan remembers waking up with Sehun’s arm around him, his head resting against Sehun’s broad chest. A blush creeps up to Luhan’s face and he spends the next seconds burying his face in his palms, before his phone vibrates.

From: Sehun

History must be boring for you to doze off while studying it ^~^ Get some rest early, hyung. Goodnight.

Luhan smiles at his phone, types back a ‘you too, goodnight Sehun-ah’, and turns back to his books.

-

“I don’t get why you bother,” Yixing says with a roll of his eyes as makes a grab for Luhan’s history textbook. “Studying half an hour before the test is only going to freak you out.”

Luhan draws it closer to his eyes and ignores Yixing. Yixing’s used to failing anyway, but Luhan’s not, and he doesn’t intend to anytime soon. After several minutes, Luhan drops the book on the table and flops on it as Jongdae and Yixing let out cries of victory. “I hate you guys,” Luhan mumbles into his book.

“How’s the studying going?”

Sehun takes a seat opposite Luhan and throws him a small smile, resting his hand lightly on Luhan’s hand.

“Great!” Luhan exclaims, before he catches Sehun’s raised eyebrow and sighs. “I’m going to fail.”

“Sorry,” Sehun mumbles and drops his gaze to the table.

Luhan closes his book and ruffles Sehun’s hair with his free hand. “Hey come on, I wanted to help you guys out with the dance, you didn’t make me, Sehun-ah. If anyone should apologise, it should be Yixing anyway.”

“Hey!” Yixing protests as Jongdae laughs snidely and jabs Yixing’s arm with an exaggerated nod.

Sehun glances up at Luhan through his lashes and manages a small grin. Luhan blinks, his breath catching in his throat, before he manages a weak smile in return.

“This,” Sehun says abruptly as he retrieves his hand from beneath Luhan’s and points at the bracelet dangling on his wrist. “Is my good luck charm. It helped me pass my dance exams and that recent math test.”

Luhan stares in fascination at the intricate designs on Sehun’s bracelet, as he watches Sehun unclasp it and loop it around Luhan’s hand. “I’m lending it to you for this exam, so you better not fail it, hyung.”

The bracelet burns against Luhan’s skin and Luhan glances up to see Sehun do a small air punch, exclaiming, “Hwaiting, Luhan-hyung!”

Luhan grins back, before Jongin arrives and promptly drags Sehun off to class, nagging at him to ‘leave poor Luhan-hyung alone so he can study’. Yixing laughs merrily. “Like he’ll get any real studying done now.”

This earns him a kick in the shin from Luhan under the table as he turns back to his book. He thinks, as he throws his textbook into his bag and heads off to the exam venue, that Yixing isn’t too far off, although he’ll never admit it aloud.

-

“You’re disgusting,” Yixing says as he watches Luhan muss his hair with more gel and throw on a sparkly black jacket. “Who the fuck whines about failing and ends up getting a seventy-four?”

Luhan ignores him and brushes more eyeliner on his eyelid. Jongdae leans against the wall of Luhan’s dorm. “You might want to hurry up or we probably won’t catch Sehun and Jongin before their performance.”

Luhan puts his eyeliner down and turns around consciously. “Do I look alright?”

Before Yixing can give a sincere answer, Jongdae drags Luhan out of the dorm and towards the school auditorium.

-

The auditorium is three-quarters filled when they step in. Jongdae mumbles a curse under his breath, before he leaves and tries to find a good seat while Yixing and Jongin squeeze their way backstage.

“You’ll be fine, you idiot, just stop fretting!”

Luhan’s head snaps back and he halts in his tracks, eyes locked on the sight before him.

Sehun puffs out his cheeks, before he lets out a melodious laugh and bends down to let Soojung ruffle his hair. He watches the way Sehun’s eyes fold into crescents as Soojung pouts and mumbles something at him, his hand still resting on the small of her back.

Luhan takes a couple of steps back and slams back-first into Jongin.

“Hyung!” Jongin says with a bright grin as he adjusts his white jacket.

Yixing cocks his head to the side. “Did you find Sehun?”

“Oh,” Jongin says and points behind Luhan. “He’s over –“

“He’s busy,” Luhan interrupts, as he shoves Sehun’s bracelet into Jongin’s hands. “Can you return this to him? I just didn’t want him to go onstage without his good luck charm. I need to go look for Jongdae now.”

Jongin blinks at him and Luhan dashes out through the backstage door before either of them can say anything.

“Jongdae!” He calls out, as Jongdae waves to him, two rows behind Lee Taemin. “Um, let’s go to the back.”

Jongdae raises an eyebrow and asks, “Why? We can’t see anything from the back.”

That’s the fucking point. “Just, please?” Luhan asks, his voice hinging on a slight note of desperation.

Jongdae sighs and gets up, following Luhan silently to the back and proceeds to be blocked by tall guys and deafened by screaming fangirls. Yixing joins them three minutes before music blasts over the speakers and Luhan presses the palms of his hands to his ears.

Luhan’s only half-focused on the whole competition until Justin Bieber’s Somebody to Love blares over the speakers and he glances up.

Sehun glides on stage and moves to the music, hands roaming over his body, a smirk playing on his lips. Luhan watches the way Sehun’s hips sway, the way he presses his thumb to his lips before pointing it at the audience, the way his shirt rides up when he does a half back-flip, the way –

“Jongin’s up there too, Luhan,” Yixing whispers mid-way through the performance and Luhan realizes how tightly his fingers are wrapped around the railing in front of him, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Yixing throws him a small smile, leaving a warm hand on Luhan’s shoulder, and turns back to the stage.

Jongin and Sehun give a bow as the audience erupts into cheers, as the other contestants join them back onstage. Lee Sungmin, an upperclassman and the MC of the night, walks onstage and smiles at the audience, does a little hand motion and waits for the cheers to die down. He grins and announces, “After a brilliant round of dances, I’m sure all of you have your personal winners, but let’s see what the votes say.”

Luhan watches Sehun squeeze his eyes shut and clutch on to Jongin’s hand. “Oh Sehun and Kim Jongin!”

Jongin’s jaw drops as Sungmin passes Sehun a trophy and shoves the mic at him. Luhan lets out a delighted gasp and clutches Yixing’s hand, jumping slightly.

“We’d like to thank Soojung and Taeminnie for their constant support throughout this whole competition,” Jongin says with a bright grin.

Sehun takes the mic from him and scans the crowd, before he locks gazes with Luhan and Luhan shrinks back, tries to hide behind Jongdae. “And to Yixing-hyung and Luhan-hyung, thank you for being honest enough to tell us what works in the dance and what doesn’t.”

Yixing grins proudly and nudges Luhan in the ribs. Luhan nods and brushes his fringe self-consciously, hoping to hide his face behind it.

When Luhan tries to make a mad dash for the auditorium exit, he feels an arm wrap around his waist and he’s pulled backwards into a tight embrace. “Where are you going, hyung?”

Sehun’s breath tickles his face and Luhan tries to calm his pounding heart. “Study,” Luhan blurts out.

Sehun laughs, a light timbre, and whispers, “Come to the after-party, hyung.”

This is when Luhan should pull away, tell Sehun he’s tired, tell Sehun he doesn’t want to see girls drape themselves all over him anymore, tell Sehun that he’s had enough of trying to figure him out and all he wants is really a good night’s rest.

But Luhan’s never been good at saying no, especially not to Sehun.

-

He hates college parties. There’s too much booze, too much grinding and too little lighting for Luhan to make out the dancing figures around him.

“Drink?” Yixing asks, as he sidles up behind Luhan and holds out a pink drink to him.

“What is that?” Luhan deadpans and fixes Yixing with a stare.

Yixing shrugs and responds, “Who cares? It’s a party, Luhan. You have to drink at parties.”

Fuck it, Luhan thinks as he snags the drink from Yixing and downs it in one gulp. Yixing laughs joyously at the way Luhan teeters slightly and grabs his arm at the after-effects, before adding helpfully, “Such drinks aren’t meant to be a one-shot though, Luhan.”

“Fuck you,” Luhan says with a roll of his eyes and shoves the glass back into Yixing’s hand before weaving through the crowd on the dance floor.

Luhan freezes in the middle on the dance floor as a hand snakes around his waist. "Dance with me?" a low voice whispers into his ear.

He throws back his head and laughs, shoving himself away from a laughing Jongin. Jongin gives him a lopsided grin and continues, “Glad you made it to the after-party, hyung.”

Luhan returns the smile as Jongin tugs at his hand, twirling Luhan around and into his embrace, with a brilliant laugh. Jongin does a little shimmy to the left, then to the right, dragging Luhan with him, as Luhan leans back into Jongin and laughs a little louder, head spinning from just one drink.

“Jongin.”

Jongin pauses and glances up, before a smirk makes its way to his face and he coos, “Oh, finally got your attention, I see.”

Sehun makes a face and interlaces his fingers with Luhan’s, pulling Luhan away from Jongin. He sticks his tongue out at Jongin. “Go find your own dance partner.”

Jongin laughs good-naturedly and gives them a wave, before he weaves easily through the crowd, disappearing within seconds.

“How could you choose Jongin over me?” Sehun whines, puffing out his cheeks and fixing Luhan with sad puppy-like eyes, as he tightens his grip on Luhan’s hand.

He doesn’t wait for Luhan to reply, just tugs on Luhan’s hand and pulls Luhan to him, their faces inches away. Sehun gives a small smile, a gentle tug at the corner of his lips, and spins Luhan around, pressing Luhan’s back flush against his body.

Luhan shuts his eyes and freezes as Sehun moves to the beat, his body brushing against Luhan’s, sending sparks up his spine with every tiny jerk. Screw it, he thinks as he presses back into Sehun’s body. He can afford to be reckless this one time.

“Hyung,” Sehun whispers into his ear, fingers digging into the skin below his hipbone.

He’s obviously not drunk enough for this, with Sehun behind him, body hot, hands brushing at the most inappropriate places, sending tingles down to his cock. Luhan pushes away, brushes his fringe out of his eyes. “J-just give me a moment. I need to make sure Jongdae hasn’t fallen into a ditch yet.”

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Luhan jumps half an inch and sees Jongin leaning against the counter as he approaches it, swirling a yellowish drink in his cocktail glass. Jongdae lets out a soft laugh and raises an eyebrow at Luhan. “It’s just a dance,” Luhan says and tries to shrug it off.

Jongin smirks, “Sure, whatever you say, hyung.”

Luhan puffs out his cheeks and Jongin bursts into laughter, wiping tears from his eyes and muttering something that sounds vaguely like ‘god, Sehun’s rubbing off on you’. He ignores Jongin and snatches the cocktail glass from Jongdae’s hand, downing the orange liquid in one-shot. Yixing’s previous warning only hits him five seconds later when he starts stumbling and grabbing on to Jongin.

He ignores the way Jongin and Jongdae are laughing at him as he sways from side to side, staggering back to the dance floor, only to find a crowd of girls in Sehun’s place.

“Sehun?” Luhan calls out, the music drowning his voice entirely.

Luhan pushes his way through the crowd, ignoring the calls of ‘hey pretty’ and the whistles in his direction. He tosses his head from side-to-side, eyes burning from the different bobbing figures and flashy clothing around him.

He leans against a wall, pressing his head against it and exhales deeply, before his eyes widen.

Sehun’s a short distance away, his back facing Luhan, with a teary Soojung before him. His hand’s on her back, rubbing soothing circles into it as Soojung says something, her face tainted with displeasure. Sehun shakes his head and draws her close to him, circling his arms around her and runs his hand up and down her hair repeatedly, lips pressed to the shell of her ear.

Luhan blinks back the moisture at the corner of his eyes and pushes off the wall, blaming himself for forgetting, for trying to take something that was never his to begin with. He rushes through the familiar crowd, blocking out the cries around him with the roar of his pulse, feet moving at lightning speed, before he breaks into a small run. He shoves open the glass door and inhales deeply, the night air much more pleasing to his nostrils than the intoxicating smell of booze.

“Luhan!”

He barely registers the flash of a sparkly black jacket, before Luhan is clutching his stomach, head bent as he throws up a mixture of brown, orange and pink on the ground. Warm hands are running along his back, Yixing’s gentle voice whispering, “Just let it all out.”

Luhan squats on the ground, hands pressed against his eyes. He hears a soft rustle beside him and Yixing mutters, “I’m not cleaning that up.”

Luhan doesn’t respond.

“Do you want to head home?”

“Yeah,” Luhan replies, eyes still downcast. “I’ll be alright. Go on in and have a good time, Yixing.”

“And let you go home alone looking and feeling like absolute shit?”

Yixing raises an eyebrow at him and brushes a thumb across his eyebags, giving him a small, knowing smile. He gets to his feet and wipes his hands on his jeans, before he extends a hand to Luhan. Luhan stares up at him, ignores the stab of guilt in his heart, and takes Yixing’s hand.

-

He opts to ignore Sehun’s text spams of ‘are you alright’ and ‘Jongin told me that Yixing texted to say you’re hung over, are you okay’, throwing his phone to one side instead.

“Luhan,” Kim-seonsaengnim calls out as Luhan stuffs his math textbook into his sling bag. “Can I have a word with you?”

Jongdae starts sniggering and Yixing casts a glance in his direction. “Ooooooh, did Mister Model Student get himself in trouble?” Yixing teases.

Luhan shoves him and grabs his sling bag, making his way to the front of the class as Yixing and Jongdae loiter outside the classroom.

Kim-seonsaengnim slides him a piece of paper and says, “I know it’s such a last minute thing, but one of the students who signed up pulled out of the exchange program that our college’s having with a college in Japan. We really can’t afford to waste the funds injected into this program, Luhan, so I was wondering if you would be interested to –“

“Yes,” Luhan exclaims, and repeats in a softer tone when he notes the shocked expression he gets in return, “I mean, it’s a huge honor, I’ll love to go.”

Kim-seonsaengnim’s eyes light up and she asks, “Really? They’re leaving in five days and the program will be a month long, Luhan. You should think this over carefully.”

Luhan gives his most convincing smile and says, “It sounds like an amazing opportunity, seonsaengnim!”

It sounds like an amazing opportunity to forget. To throw away everything back here, even if it’s only for a month.

“It’s settled then, I’ll let the organiser know,” she replies with a bright smile as she gives Luhan instructions and a suggestion list on what to bring.

“Can I make a request?” Luhan asks, moments before he steps out of the classroom.

Kim-seonsaengnim looks at him with curiousity and nods, prompting him to continue. Luhan hesitates and replies, “Can we keep this between us? I want to tell Yixing and Jongdae personally.”

“Of course,” she answers with a gentle smile and Luhan bows before he exits the classroom.

Jongdae pushes himself off the wall as Luhan approaches them, the papers folded and tucked neatly into his jeans pocket. “What was that about?” Yixing asks.

“Seonsaengnim just wanted to commend me on my midyear results.” Luhan replies and throws in his megawatt smile, his eyes crinkling into crescents just so he doesn’t have to lie right into Yixing’s face.

Yixing makes a face and throws some snide comments around with Jongdae, high-fiving him on the way to the cafeteria as Luhan makes soft whining sounds on how ganging up is unfair, heartbeat slowing down to its normal pace.

What they don’t know won’t kill them, he figures.

♥

flirting lessons 101

equalises — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 14:45:20 GMT

Flirting Lessons 101
596w; NC-17
Jongin/Sehun
Summary: Sehun has an adrenaline rush after dance practice and Jongin happens to be lurking around. Pretty much shameless PWP.
A/N: blaming this on feixing because she made me write porn in return for her writing me porn OTL. also, not cross-posting this anywhere because it is embarrassing, so feel free to ignore it ;~~~;

“Not now, please,” Jongin mutters, as he shuts the eyelid he just cracked open moments ago and continues lying eagle-sprawled on the ground. “Dance just ended ten minutes ago, I don’t have the energy for this.”

Sehun presses a kiss to his jaw and trails kisses down his neck, as Jongin laughs into Sehun’s hair. He presses the pads of his fingers into Sehun’s skin and allows Sehun to press their bodies together, until Sehun grinds down hard and Jongin shoots up, head banging against Sehun’s.

“Are you high or something?” Jongin pants, Sehun’s lips a hair’s breath away.

“Adrenaline level’s always high after dancing,” Sehun responds as his lips reclaim their position at Jongin’s neck.

Jongin exhales and mumbles, “If any of the hyungs walk in, you’re the inappropriate and horny one, Sehun.”

Sehun laughs against his neck, the warm breath sending a shiver up his spine and Jongin pushes up desperately against Sehun, rolling his hips against Sehun’s. “Maybe you should rethink that,” he whispers, breath tickling Jongin’s ear before he shifts down.

Warm fingers are pressing against his waist, before they work on the buckle of his belt and Jongin huffs, “Not so fast, god.”

Sehun ignores him politely and shoves his jeans down, before pressing his lips to Jongin’s clothed half-hard erection, hot breath skating across the thin material. Jongin pants as his erection fully hardens and croons, “Hurry the fuck up.”

“But you told me to go slow,” Sehun teases, as he slides Jongin’s boxers down at a painfully slow rate.

Jongin growls and tangles his hands in Sehun’s head and shoves him down. Sehun laughs as his lips press against Jongin’s erection, before he takes him whole. “Fuck,” Jongin hisses and his fingers tighten around Sehun’s hair, yanking hard.

Sehun makes a satisfied humming sound and it has Jongin panting hard, trying to cant his hips so Sehun can take more, make him feel more, yet the fingers pressing insistently against his hips are warning him against doing so.

Sehun slides his tongue along the length of Jongin’s erection, as he slides a hand down his own sweats to palm himself. Jongin’s hair tugging gets more insistent as the fingers on his hips loosen and he literally shoves his cock into Sehun’s mouth, musing at the way Sehun takes him in whole.

He’s shaking, a long moan falling from his lips as Sehun’s teeth scrape against his length. He gives Sehun’s shoulder a hard squeeze and empties his load in Sehun’s mouth, as he groans Sehun’s name in the process.

Sehun swallows every drop of his cum and rolls on his back, hand moving faster beneath his sweats, Jongin’s name echoing through the dance studio.

Jongin pushes himself off the ground and crawls towards Sehun, hand pausing Sehun’s movements. His fingers entwine with Sehun’s and he presses against Sehun’s cock, watching the way Sehun squeezes his eyes shut while listening intently to the way Sehun’s breathing speeds up to match Jongin’s heart rate.

When Sehun comes, he tightens his hold on Jongin’s hand and sighs contentedly. Jongin waits for Sehun’s chest to rise and fall stealthily before he pulls his hand out of Sehun’s sweats and wipes it crudely on his jeans.

“Not such a waste of energy now, was it?” Sehun chides, before he presses an open-mouthed kiss to Jongin’s lips.

Jongin laughs into the kiss and pulls away slightly, grumbling, “You taste terrible.”

“Great, now you know how I felt when you come,” Sehun smirks and pulls Jongin closer to him, pressing more insistent kisses to his lips.

falling in love (is hard on the knees) - part ii

equalises — Sun, 24 Jun 2012 04:37:31 GMT

♥

He would have forgotten all about it if Baekhyun hadn’t texted all of them and reminded them of their monthly staff outing. Yixing tries to escape, because all they ever do at the staff outing is get wasted, and there was no way he was risking it with Yifan around. He ends up getting dragged there anyway, because Chanyeol showed up outside his school and Jongdae started throwing both of them suspicious glances every time Chanyeol says Lay-ge.

“So,” Baekhyun exclaims, “instead of the usual drinking games, we’re going to use this chance to celebrate Kris’ entrance to the family by playing pool!”

Yixing sighs in relief, before Chanyeol slams a bottle on the table and presents 4 shot glasses with a bright smile. Baekhyun nods and continues, “And since drinking is a tradition, anyone who gives the opposing team a ‘free ball’ will down a shot.”

Baekhyun pauses and takes a glance across, before his eyes fall on Yixing and he stifles a laugh. He finishes, “So we’ll just split into 2 teams. Lay, you wouldn’t mind if I paired up with Chanyeol, would you?”

Out of reflex, Yixing shakes his head, because he hadn’t expected it to be any other way. He suddenly regrets it as Yifan smiles at him and says, “Guess that means we’re a team.”

This is karma, he swears he almost hears Jongin singsong.

-

He’s downed the fifth shot, letting the brown liquid seer his throat, and Yixing’s starting to feel the world tilting on its edges, as he grips the edge of the table before slamming down his shot glass. Baekhyun shoots him a look bridging on concern, asking, “You sure you’re alright, Lay? You don’t have to carry on downing shots if you can’t.”

Yixing shakes his head and grips on to Chanyeol’s arm, muttering, “It’s fine, I’m still sober.”

Chanyeol laughs boisterously and adds, “God, who knew you’d suck so much at pool.”

“I don’t suck at it, I’m just out of practice!” Yixing protests.

“Yeah right,” Chanyeol snorts. “All the shots have been done by Kris so far. You’ve just been providing Baek and I with ‘free balls’, Lay.”

Yixing makes a face and punches Chanyeol lightly in the bicep. He does not suck at pool alright. He’s just… lousy at calculating angles that the ball should take, which explains why he lost to Luhan when Luhan had only taken one shot. In his defense, the ball 8 looked like any other solid colour ball, so how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to sink it until he’s cleared all the other balls? And it was blocking ball 5, how else was he supposed to progress on with the game unless he got rid of ball 8? Yeah, this is totally not reflective of his inability to play pool.

He takes the stick from Yifan and takes aim. There are two ball 9s hovering before him, and Yixing shakes his head before deciding that a shot directly between both of them would at least enable him to hit one. Yixing pulls back his stick and strikes, before banging his head against the table as he hears Baekhyun shriek in delight.

He reaches for the shot glass in Chanyeol’s hand, before a hand lands on his. Yixing glances up and sees Yifan reach for the glass, his eyes locked with Yixing’s as he says, “He’s barely standing, so I’ll drink it on his behalf since we’re team mates.”

Yifan throws his head back, downs the shot and slams the glass back on the table. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and says, “Let’s continue.”

-

They end up half-drunk, because Yixing starts fighting to take his own shots when Yifan’s eyes begin turning glassy. Yixing throws his head against the window of the bus and exhales. Yifan rolls his eyes and says, “I told you, I can handle my liquor. I’m still more sober than you, Yixing.”

“Just shut up,” Yixing mutters against the window.

He gets off with Yifan at the stop near Yifan’s house, insisting that he walks Yifan back, because god he’ll feel terrible if Yifan gets raped. This gets Yifan laughing so loudly that an elderly lady actually opens her window and starts yelling at them in Japanese.

Yifan leans against the wall of his apartment as Yixing pats his pockets for keys. He misses the keyhole thrice, causing Yifan to sigh and yank the keys out of his hands, opening the door on his first attempt.

Yixing laughs and pushes Yifan inside, into his room. Upon success, Yixing smiles and says, “I’ll be going then, see you tomorrow.”

He turns and feels a tight grip on his wrist. Yifan’s voice is soft and domineering at the same time as he whispers, “Stay. It’s late and you’re drunk. I can’t protect you against pedophiles, Yixing.”

Yixing swallows the lump in his throat and laughs shakily. “Yah, I don’t need your protection. I can handle those freaks even if I’m a hell lot smaller than you.”

But he sees the look on Yifan’s face, and Jongin’s accusation of being a heart breaker comes to him, so he drops his gaze and mumbles, “Alright, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What? Don’t be silly, you’re the guest, take the bed.”

“Please, I don’t want to be imposing on you. And you already slept on the couch last time, so it’s my– hey!”

Yifan gives Yixing a hard shove, and Yixing pushes back, until he trips over Yifan’s bag on the ground and tumbles back on the bed, dragging Yifan down with him. Yifan laughs, his body a warm weight pressing against Yixing’s. He props himself up on his palms and whispers, his lips a hair's breath away from Yixing’s, “I win.”

Yifan's already pushing himself upwards and away; Yixing blames the alcohol when his hands reach up and cup Yifan's face. He vaguely registers a flash of confusion in the other's dark eyes (clouded with lust and restraint, or maybe it was Yixing's poor judgment), before he brings their mouths together. Yifan’s body tenses above Yixing’s for a second, but it isn't long before he’s pressing Yixing back into the mattress, hands running down his sides.

Yifan kisses with vigor, tongue teasing the seam between Yixing’s lips, before forcing an entrance and ravishing his mouth. Yixing pulls him closer, hands fisting Yifan’s shirt tightly as he pushes his hips up and rolls them against Yifan’s jeans. Yifan makes a small sound that Yixing promptly swallows as his fingers ghost over Yixing’s hipbone, before they’re gripping and pulling at Yixing’s belt angrily. Yixing inhales sharply and Yifan pulls away, pressing kisses down the side of Yixing’s face, muttering, “We don’t have to, if you’re not–“

“Shut up,” Yixing whispers back and slides his hand under Yifan’s shirt, fingers brushing over his abs. “Just hurry up before I come.”

Yifan doesn’t waste a second, as he yanks out Yixing’s belt and shoves his jeans down, lips sliding down Yixing’s neck, nipping and marking it, as Yixing squirms, bucking his hips upwards desperately for more contact. Yixing hisses at the pleasure of skin against skin, lustful 'hurry up's escaping his mouth in low, dark growls. Yifan presses his lips to Yixing’s ear and smirks, “Don’t worry, hyung will be gentle,” before he pushes in and Yixing lets out a half-scream, half-groan, nails etching angry scars down Yifan’s back.

-

He wakes up at 3am, and Yixing marvels to himself at how comfortable the heat pressed against his side felt. He shifts slightly and sees Yifan’s head buried into his shoulder, one arm draped over his waist. Yixing lets his eyes flutter shut, before they fly open because that is Yifan, and he’s lying next to him and dear god, he’s naked.

Yixing exhales as the memories come rushing back to him. He realises belatedly that he should never listen to his brain, because it never lands him anywhere good, and he can already see the look of absolute disapproval on Jongin’s face.

By the time he figures out what an absolute asshole he is, his shirt is already buttoned messily and his jeans are hanging loosely off his hips, as he gets off the bus and unlocks the door to his apartment.

-

There’s no explanation for the way he ducks behind his Chinese Literature textbook as the Discipline Master escorts a pale-faced Yifan into class, half an hour after the bell rang. Yifan sits down next to him and slams his bag down between them. Yixing stares at the Chinese text until his eyes water, because at least he can keep up his pretence instead of dealing with the impending doom pressing down on his shoulders.

“So, why were you late, model student?” Luhan asks with concern during lunch, as he feeds Sehun another clump of rice.

Yifan massages his temples with his fingers and answers, “Hangover. Didn’t hear my alarm ring.”

Jongdae’s eyes brighten at that and he probes, “You went drinking last night?”

“Yeah,” Yifan replies. “With a couple of friends, nothing serious.”

Jongin plops down and drapes himself on Yixing, who’s busy stuffing himself with noodles just so his tongue was too occupied to try to grow a brain. He whines, “My waist hurts, and it’s totally your fault, hyung.”

Yixing flushes, remembering how he and Jongin had been trying one of 2PM’s dances and how he had misjudged the distance that Jongin was going to land, resulting in him sprawled out on the ground, clutching his back in pain. He pats Jongin’s head and answers, “Sorry. Let me take a look at it later, alright?”

Jongin grins and nods, before he starts stealing food off Sehun’s tray, insisting that he didn’t even need one since Luhan feeds him all the time anyway. Yixing turns back to his food, just as Sehun says, “So did you hit on a hot guy while you were wasted last night, hyung?”

Yixing chokes on his noodles and Sehun blinks at him, before saying, “Sorry Yixing-hyung, I thought you knew that Yifan-hyung was gay.”

Yixing gratefully downs the mineral water from the bottle that Jongin presses below his lips and shakes his head, mumbling, “Thanks, Jongin-ah.”

Yifan puts down his chopsticks and smiles at Sehun, answering, “Yeah, I think I did.”

Luhan stares at him, an unreadable expression on his face as he questions, “Really? How was he like?”

Yifan’s laugh is humourless and he replies, his voice dropped to an almost-whisper, “I don’t know, maybe I imagined everything, because when I woke up, the spot next to me was empty.”

His eyes are locked on Yixing’s and Yixing tries to focus his stare at the mineral water bottle in his hands. He hears the scrape of the chair against the ground, before Yifan says, “I have something else on, I’ll see you guys later in class.”

When Yixing glances up, Yifan’s almost out of the cafeteria. He hesitates, slams his chopsticks down and says, “I’ll be right back.”

He grabs his phone and dashes out of the cafeteria without a backward glance.

-

“Yifan!” Yixing yells as he grabs Yifan’s wrist.

Yifan doesn’t turn around; he shakes his hand, trying to throw Yixing’s hand off. “Yifan,” Yixing repeats, slightly softer this time, with a hint of exasperation.

“What,” Yifan snarls as he turns around and walks right into Yixing’s personal space.

Yifan’s eyes are flaming and Yixing swallows, before he takes a step back. Yixing stammers, “I j-just wanted to say, um, about last night, I’m sor-“

“You’re an amazing person, Zhang Yixing.”

“What?”

Yifan huffs and says, “Every time I think I have you figured out, you turn around and literally just mindfuck me.”

Yixing glares at him, and snaps, “What are you talking about?”

“Come on,” Yifan says, his voice dropped a low tone. “Just drop the pretence already.”

“No,” Yixing says in bewilderment. “I honestly have no idea what you’re referring to, Yifan.”

“I get it, Yixing. You were just looking for quick, convenient fuck because you’re not getting any with your boyfriend lately. Just, stop pretending that you give a damn about my feelings.”

Yixing gapes at him and stammers, “B-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, the draping, the secret conversations… you’re taken okay, point noted.”

“Wait, you mean Jongin?”

Yifan gives him a tight smile and pries his fingers off his wrist. Yixing slaps his own forehead and blurts out, “Jesus, the waist thing was –“

“It doesn’t matter!” Yifan yells, his voice raising several octaves, before it drops back to its usual baritone and he repeats in a softer tone, “It doesn’t matter. I have your type figured out ever since Zitao, alright. I just… didn’t expect you to be one of those guys. My mistake.”

“Can you just listen and–“ Yixing trips over his words and wraps his fingers around Yifan’s wrist again.

“No,” Yifan says, his voice chills Yixing to the bone, a stark contrast from the warm skin under Yixing’s. “No, we’re done here.”

Yifan pushes Yixing’s hand off, and this time, Yixing lets him walk away. He doesn’t say anything when Jongdae questions him back in the cafeteria about what’s going on, and just settles for dropping his head into Jongin’s chest, because this time, he’s really fucked up.

-

It takes three days before Luhan finally corners him in a deserted classroom after their Chinese Literature class. Yixing sighs and sinks into a chair, running fingers through his fringe. He can feel Luhan’s glare, heavy on his neck, so he settles for fidgeting with his bracelet.

“So, are you and Jongin getting married anytime soon?”

Yixing’s head snaps up and he sees a small smile creeping up Luhan’s face, despite the straight face he’s trying to keep. “I would have to ask him to date me first, don’t you think?”

Luhan drops the poker face and breaks into a laughing fit, as he takes a seat opposite Yixing and props his head up on his hands. Yixing laughs along with him, although his chest feels way too small to contain his heart. “I fucked up, Luhan,” he admits as the laughter trails off.

He stares at his fingers, before looking up when Luhan stays silent for several minutes. Luhan’s face shows no sign of unkindness, as he ruffles Yixing’s hair and answers, “We all have our off-days, Yixing.”

“How much did Yifan tell you?” he asks, heart drumming wildly.

Luhan shrugs and says, “Not much? He just told me you fucked him over and left him.”

Yixing winces, and he chews on his lower lip, hesitating before saying, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just… He was right there and, and… I panicked, Luhan. God, he must be so mad at me.”

“He should be,” Luhan agrees, and Yixing sinks further into his seat. “But he’s not.”

“Wait, what?”

Luhan sighs and says, “God, Yixing, how dense could you be.”

Yixing blinks. “Our mind frequencies don't match right now,” he says after several seconds.

Luhan laughs at his outburst of vocabulary, shakes his head and concludes, “Let’s just say it’s like how Sehun-ah can never stay mad, regardless of what I do or say that hurts him unintentionally.”

“Oh,” Yixing says, before his eyes widen and oh.

Luhan grins at him and nods. “Sehun-ah and I can help you, if you want, Yixing.”

-

“This is not working,” Yixing huffs as he shoves Sehun another cup of ice-cream.

Minseok stares sadly at the pile sitting before Sehun and says for the umpteenth time, “You’re paying for everything you’ve used, even if it failed.”

“Yes,” Sehun says almost immediately, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I think we got that the first twenty times, thank you.”

Yixing takes another scoop of twinberry cheesecake and places it on another freshly baked waffle cup, dripping chocolate syrup as a border around it. Sehun sighs from behind him, “I don’t even like twinberry cheesecake, hyung. Can’t you just, I don’t know, write in Chinese or something instead?”

“Sehun,” Yixing starts, before he pauses and exclaims, “that’s a brilliant idea! And it’s the most help you’ve given for the past half an hour.”

“Hey!” Sehun protests and puffs out his cheeks like a little pufferfish.

“It is?” Minseok asks in absolute bewilderment.

Yixing nods and begins carving excitedly. “What better way to express sincerity than through our mother tongue.”

He clicks his tongue happily and waves the finished product in Sehun’s face. Sehun looks up from his phone and says, “That’s… nice. It’s literally a whole bunch of words I can’t read, so you could be writing fuck me now for all I know. Oh, and Luhan says they’re almost here.”

Yixing flails a little and shoves Minseok the ice-cream waffle, saying, “Remember, give it to the blonde guy.”

Minseok nods and bounces to the front of the stall to attend to Luhan, who’s waving at him madly, a bright smile in place, as Yixing dashes out of the stall, dragging Sehun with him. He presses his back against the side of the ice-cream stall and listens to Luhan muse about what he wants to eat, while Yifan orders twinberry cheesecake, as predicted. He hears Minseok chirp, “Here’s your order, Mr Blonde Guy.”

Sehun stifles a laugh next to him and Yixing holds his breath, until he hears Yifan say, “What the actual fuck is this.”

“That’s your cue, hyung,” Sehun whispers.

Yixing stays rooted to the spot listening to Luhan read the carvings aloud, his tongue rolling easily around the three words Yixing could never bring himself to say. Sehun whispers again, “Now, hyung, now.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his back against the ice-cream stall, his legs suddenly losing the ability to withstand his body mass, at the thought of confronting Yifan after three days of zero communication and cold shoulder treatment both at work and in school.

Sehun rolls his eyes and yanks Yixing’s shirt, dragging a flailing Yixing out and exclaiming, “Luhan-ge!”

Yixing opens his eyes a crack and sees Luhan smiling at him, before he sees the stony expression on Yifan’s face. “Well,” Luhan says conversationally, “Sehun-ah and I will just be going, seeing as how you two will have a lot to talk about.”

Sehun gives an exaggerated nod beside Luhan and trots off, but not before shoving Yixing towards Yifan with a cute smile. Yixing’s pretty sure Sehun is the devil's child, despite the sweet smiles and endless aegyo. It was the only way he would be compatible with Luhan, the spawn of Satan, anyway.

Yifan’s still staring at him with a scowl on his face, so Yixing backs up slightly and exclaims, “Look I’m really, really sorry. I’m a major idiot, like Jongin says, and I didn’t mean to mention him, but we’re really not dating! And I still have to tell you, although you said you really don’t want to hear it, because Jongin got his waist injury during one of our dance practices and not because we were fucking or anything like that. I would never fuck Jongin, oh god. And please don’t dump that ice-cream on me, I took a really long time to write that and my hair’s really nice today–“

He freezes as Yifan swings his bag and hits his back. He repeats the action several more times until Yixing lets out a soft whimper.

“God, you’re such a massive idiot,” Yifan says, before pulling him in for a hug.

Yixing presses his face against Yifan’s chest and inhales, because he missed this and god, he missed Yifan so much. He mumbles into Yifan’s shirt, “You smell really nice, by the way.”

Yifan laughs and presses a kiss to his temple, whispering into his hair, “I missed you.”

Yixing pulls Yifan closer and whispers back, “Me too.”

They stay in this position for what seems like five minutes, before Yifan lets go of him and pulls away. Yixing stares at him dumbfounded, as Yifan says, “Can we sit down or something? Much as I like the physical contact, this is starting to melt onto my hand and it’s ruining the mood.”

They settle down with their thighs pressed against each other, Yixing’s heart in his throat, at a park bench as he watches Yifan eat the ice-cream in silence. “This is kinda the cheesiest confession I’ve ever received though,” Yifan muses.

“I hate you, Yifan.”

“Really?” Yifan challenges, waving his half-empty ice-cream waffle cup in Yixing’s face. “The ice-cream says wo ai ni though.”

Yixing puffs his cheeks out, colour flooding his cheeks. He stammers, “A-anyway, is twinberry cheesecake really that nice for you to order it every single time?”

Yifan smirks at him, “Why don’t you decide that for yourself?”

Before Yixing can question, Yifan leans in and presses their lips together, and oh, he’s doing that thing with his tongue, pressing his body against Yixing’s, blowing Yixing’s mind without even trying. Yixing squirms slightly and pulls away, because Yifan’s tongue and his skinnies definitely do not complement each other. Yifan huffs, “I swear you’re the biggest cockblocker I know.”

“Sorry,” Yixing mumbles and leans in again.

Yifan goes slightly slower this time, his lips just pressing firmly against Yixing’s for twenty seconds or so, before he starts pressing his tongue into Yixing’s mouth again and Yixing laughs into the kiss, before pulling away. “Wu Yifan, I swear you’re the horniest guy I know.”

“W-what!” Yifan sputters. “I didn’t even do anything indecent!”

“Yeah, three times on the first night.”

Yifan’s face flushes and he grumbles, “You were the one that kept screaming more, Yifan, more. So technically, it’s not my fault. And you kept making those strange noises mixed with my name in a raspy voice. It’s such a fucking turn on.”

It’s Yixing’s turn to turn bright red, as he looks away. Yifan slips his hand into Yixing’s and rubs his palm with his thumb. He leans into Yixing’s ear and whispers, “We could always have a round four tonight, when you’re sober.”

This results in Yixing pulling away and throwing Yifan’s bag at him, as Yifan throws his head back and laughs. That is, until the ice-cream starts dripping onto his hand and it's Yixing’s turn to laugh, watching him shift uncomfortably in his seat as Yixing’s tongue darts out to lick the twinberry cheesecake off his fingers.

-

“I swear if you guys start feeding each other, I will puke on your face, Zhang Yixing,” Jongin deadpans at lunch, stabbing his noodles with his chopsticks, as he watches Yifan brush a grain of rice off Yixing’s face.

Yifan smiles and says, “No worries, we’re not half as indecent.”

“At least I’m still a virgin,” Sehun points out.

This results in Yixing flailing a little because Luhan, you promised not to tell! Jongdae smirks and counters, “Please, like the red marks on your neck are all mosquito bites, Yixing. You’re literally a walking display.”

This causes Yifan to have a little outburst on the needs of men, and how Sehun, or any of them for that matter, wouldn’t understand since they’re barely legal. Luhan laughs good-naturedly as Sehun bickers back about love and sex being mutually exclusive items.

“At least we’re two turtledoves and not two horny rabbits,” Sehun concludes, leaving Yifan and Yixing dumbfounded.

“Alright, enough!” Jongin exclaims. “I’m about to throw up everything I’ve eaten in the past week if you guys–“

“I demand a make-out contest. The couple that stops making out first loses, and they’ll have to buy the winner a whole month’s worth of ice-cream from Minseok’s stall,” Sehun challenges, cocking an eyebrow up at Yifan, with a small smirk.

“No,” Jongdae starts. “No, no, no. Oh god, Jongin, save me.”

“What the actual fuck,” Jongin curses and drops his chopsticks as Yifan promptly pulls Yixing towards him, from across the table, and Sehun presses his lips to Luhan’s. Yixing and Luhan both let out a small squeal, before pressing back into their respective partners.

“Fuck this,” Jongin repeats, before he hears a slight gasp from his left and he buries his face in his hands.

“I officially hate turtledoves and rabbits. And oh god, my poor eyes, ew.”

-

*对不起 (dui bu qi) = I am sorry
我爱你 (wo ai ni) = I love you

last sentence is dedicated to my feels for this fic.

okay, thanks again to sunlit for torturing her eyes to beta this super long disastrous fic ;~~~; words cannot express how much ilu, chels :') ♥ DESSY AND MEIZI, I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE HAPPY SOBS.

and also, this. you guys disgust me. stupid cuties. /rolls off and hides under a rock in embarrassment.

falling in love (is hard on the knees) - part i

equalises — Sun, 24 Jun 2012 04:26:46 GMT

Falling in Love (Is Hard on the Knees)
10,635w; NC-17
Kris/Lay; mentions of Baekhyun/Chanyeol, Kris/Tao, Jongin/Lay and Sehun/Luhan
Summary: Yixing never liked routine, bars, or twinberry cheesecake. Right now, he just might. highschool!au, where Yixing is super dense, Yifan thinks stupidity is contagious, and Jongin is super sarcastic.
A/N: for the most terrible person on earth, deasyellow. Thank you to sunlit and mei_zi for encouraging this monster fic ;~~~;

“Let’s welcome, Wu Yifan.” Kim-seonsaengnim announces with a flourish, as she claps excitedly.

This earns Yixing a hard nudge in the ribs from Jongdae, and he stops doodling in his notebook long enough to shoot him a glare. Jongdae raises his eyebrows suggestively and stifles a laugh, murmuring, “He looks like your type.”

Yixing blinks and asks, “I have a type…?”

“Mister Kim and Mister Zhang, are you done with your party?”

Jongdae jumps and shoots her a sheepish smile, while Yixing mumbles an apology. Luhan makes a soft tsk from his left, as the teacher turns to Yifan and says, “Why don’t you take a seat next to Mister Zhang? He could use some positive light in his life. Mister Kim, please move to the vacant seat at the back.”

“But –“ Yixing and Jongdae both start.

“Unless you’re telling me that getting 25% and 16% respectively for your Math tests is considered satisfactory, Mister Zhang and Mister Kim?”

Yixing promptly shuts up as Jongdae grabs his bag and sulks to the back, proceeding to be isolated by the entire class. Yifan takes a seat next to Yixing and swiftly dumps his bag in between them. Stupidity isn’t contagious, Yixing thinks bitterly. Yifan takes a notebook and a simple, metal pencil case out of his bag and says, his eyes not meeting Yixing’s, “You leave me alone and I’ll do the same, alright?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, simply props his left hand between them and rests his head upon it, right hand scribbling away as the lesson proceeds. Yixing tries not to snort; Jongdae had never been more inaccurate in his life.

-

Yixing trudges into The Paradise Bar and dumps his bag over the barista counter. He leans against the counter and exhales. “Long day?” Baekhyun asks as he wipes a glass.

“Seonsaengnim placed a new guy next to me in class and I’m sure he hates my balls,” Yixing says with a shrug and massages the joint between his neck and shoulder.

Baekhyun laughs and leans against the counter, facing him, saying, “You sure you didn’t freak him out by talking about your unicorn?”

Yixing gives Baekhyun a light shove and yanks his tie off, throwing it on top of his bag, before he grabs his clothes and heads to the washroom. He’s midway walking out of the bathroom, rolling his sleeves up, when Joonmyeon calls for them to gather.

He grabs his tray on the way over and props it against his waist, as Joonmyeon gives them a brief run-through of their revenues for the past month. Yixing likes Joonmyeon; he’s a good boss, gives staff time off to study when the exams roll by, and he tries his best to communicate with Yixing in Mandarin at times. (Even though Yixing can’t understand more than 90% of his words, he appreciates the effort Joonmyeon puts in.)

“So,” Joonmyeon concludes, with a smile, “after months of searching, I’ve found a new barista.”

Chanyeol lets out a small cheer behind Baekhyun and cries out, “Finally!”

Joonmyeon shakes his head and continues, “Now, don’t scare him off, kids. He’s fairly new in Korea, so his Korean isn’t very fluent.”

Yixing yawns and polishes the back of his tray, mulling more about stupid Wu Yifan and his arrogance. “Let’s welcome, Kris.”

Their gazes follow the direction of Joonmyeon's gesturing, to see the back of a tall, lanky guy with brown spiked hair. He turns, a glass in his hand and tosses a small smile in their direction, before his jaw drops a little. His fingers pause on the rim of the glass as he stares and stares and stares at Yixing. Yixing promptly drops his tray.

-

“If you tell anyone about this–“ Yifan starts, as he shoves Yixing back into the wall.

“I would be dead too, don’t you think?” Yixing deadpans.

Yifan rolls his eyes and mutters, “At least you’re not the one on scholarship, Zhang Yixing.”

“It’s Lay,” he says, before adding, “at least it is here.”

Yifan leans against the opposite wall and answers, “Whatever. Same rules apply, you wait tables, I mix drinks. You keep my secret and I’ll do the same for yours, and please don’t try to get chummy with me in school.”

He walks off before Yixing gives an answer, and Yixing turns to bang his head against the wall. It’s been a lovely day thus far.

-

“You’re not serious,” Yixing deadpans as a beaming Luhan pulls Yifan down next to him on the cafeteria bench.

Jongdae laughs into the back of his hand and gives Yixing a nudge in the side. Yifan bows slightly and sets his tray down, opposite Yixing, saying, “Sorry for the disturbance.”

Luhan waves it off and opens his mouth for a reply when Sehun hugs him from the back and whines, “Oppaaa, I’m hungry.”

Jongin mock pukes next to him, murmuring something that sounded like 'who the hell calls another boy oppa', before plopping down next to Yixing, his head falling on Yixing’s shoulder. Luhan laughs, before asking Sehun to open up, leaving Jongdae and Jongin in laughing fits, as Luhan and Sehun promptly turn red.

“Who’s that?” Sehun asks, in an attempt to divert the topic of discussion.

Yifan looks up as Jongin’s eyes turn to him, and he swallows a lump of rice before replying, “I’m Wu Yifan. I’m new here, on scholarship.”

“Yifan’s really smart,” Luhan adds. “He’s Yixing’s sitting partner.”

Jongin snorts and mutters, “Make sure you keep an arm’s length from him. Yixing’s stupidity is so strong it might kill all your brain cells.”

This concludes in Yixing shoving Jongin around for the next ten minutes and Sehun laughing at Jongdae who gets nagged at for laughing, because hey, you’re not any smarter. When Jongin’s apologised enough times for him to sound a little sincere, Yixing abandons his abuse. He laughs and turns back to his food, before catching a soft smile grace Yifan’s features.

Luhan’s leaning in to Yifan, voice dropped to a whisper, a matching smile lighting up his face. Yixing stares and thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s being too hard on someone who’s new and is probably still trying to find his place. He’s almost made a mental note to be nicer to Yifan, before Yifan’s eyes lock on his and his smile is replaced by his usual scowl, as he drops his attention back to his food.

Scratch that thought.

-

“Hey, when do you get off?”

The man is too close for Yixing’s comfort, his body cutting off Yixing’s only escape path. “Um,” he starts.

“Way too late for you,” Baekhyun answers, a smile gracing his face, although his eyes are hard.

The man glares at Baekhyun, before blowing Yixing an air kiss and stalks off. Yixing shivers slightly and mumbles a ‘thanks’ to Baekhyun. He returns to the bar and sits down, running his fingers through his long bangs.

“Maybe you should get a job elsewhere,” Joonmyeon says, taking a seat next to him.

Yixing shakes his head vigorously. “I’d have to take 3 odd jobs to match the pay here. And you know I’m using this to pay off part of my school fees.”

Joonmyeon gives him a small smile and answers, “I know. I’m just worried about you, Yixing. That’s the fifth time this month that you’ve been hit on, isn’t it?”

“They’re harmless,” Yixing mumbles.

Joonmyeon opens his mouth to answer before a usual customer, with cropped black hair and saucer-like eyes waves to him and he waves back. He rests a hand on Yixing’s thigh and says, “Alright, just let me know if they bother you too much.”

Yixing smiles and nods, before Joonmyeon walks off, calling out, “Kyungsoo-yah, over here!”

“Drink for you, Yixing-ge,” Chanyeol chirps and slides Yixing a glass.

Yixing blinks; he’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to drink while he’s on the clock, and Chanyeol knows that. Unless… his eyes fall to Yifan, mixing drinks a short distance away.

“It’s from a customer,” Chanyeol continues. “He just asked me to pass it to you.”

Right. Stupid him. Yixing shrugs and downs it in one shot, almost choking as Yifan slides past him to grab a bottle. Chanyeol is already gone by the time Yixing slams the glass down on the table, slightly lightheaded. God, Chanyeol has to make these things lighter.

The rest of Yixing’s shift goes by in a blur and Yixing isn't very coherent by the time he waves goodbye to Joonmyeon and trudges out of the pub. “Hey,” a voice says as its owner grabs Yixing.

“You don’t look too well,” the voice continues, although Yixing detects no trace of sympathy or concern in it.

He stares at the figure before him, making out a rough shape too bulky to belong to a girl. He shakes his head, as the body draws closer and grinds against him. Yixing tries pushing away, but ends up falling forward instead, as he clutches his head. “Leave me alone,” he bites, but there's less vigor in his voice than he intended it to be.

“But you seem to be enjoying –“

“Hey, he said to leave him alone.”

The hands fall from Yixing’s sides and he vaguely hears some bickering in the background, before he feels hands on his arms, supporting his weight. Yixing struggles and tries to push them away, but his legs feel like jelly, so he settles for making a din and yelling, “Get away from me! Let go!”

“Hey, relax. Jesus.”

Yixing relaxes back into the touch, letting warm arms wrap themselves around him, as he recognises the familiarity of the pitch and the intonation of his mother tongue, before he blacks out entirely.

-

The smell of cologne hits him before Yixing registers how soft the duvet on him feels, and he’s sure his pillow isn’t so soft and his room doesn't smell that nice. Yixing snuggles further under the green duvet; it's so wonderful and soft and comfortable and– wait, wasn’t his duvet blue? Or had his housekeeper changed it without his notice again?

He cracks an eyelid open, before his eyes fly open and he gulps. He’s never been much of a sloth, but the books piled neatly on the table is a sure indication that this is not his room. The absolute lack of furniture was probably another giveaway.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Yixing lets out a small squeak and hurriedly peeks under the duvet, only letting out a breath of relief when he finds himself fully clothed. When he looks up, Yifan fixes him with a stare that clearly questions his sanity. Yixing shrinks back into the bed and Yifan growls, “Can you hurry up, school’s going to start and there’s no way I’m leaving you in my house alone or walking into school late.”

Does he have to yell early in the morning, Yixing sighs inwardly, before he climbs out of bed and proceeds into the washroom to make himself presentable.

Yifan’s searching his dresser topless when Yixing walks out of the washroom, and Yixing gulps because it’s too early for him to be staring at the way his back muscles flex as he digs the dresser, and the way his biceps–

“I left a fresh change of clothes for you on the edge of the bed,” Yifan says, cutting through Yixing’s vivid fantasy.

He’s pulled on a white long-sleeved shirt and is midway through doing up the buttons, before he raises an eyebrow at Yixing and asks, “You don’t want to go to school with what you wore yesterday, do you?”

Yixing shakes his head slowly, because even Sehun being fed lunch by Luhan wouldn’t buy his excuse of forgetting to change his clothes, much less people like, well, Jongdae. He hesitantly pulls off his top and shrugs on Yifan’s black shirt, trying to rack his brain for an explanation on why he’s in a dull colour today.

“Don’t you know,” Yifan starts, “that it’s pure idiocy to accept a drink from a stranger at a pub of all places?”

Yixing stares down at the buttons on the shirt, eyes averting Yifan’s. He frowns at the shirt, blocking out the sound spewing out of Yifan’s mouth, and he vaguely hears a “hey, are you even listening?”.

“I think there’s something wrong with your shirt.”

“What?”

“The number of buttons exceeds the number of holes,” Yixing says simply.

Yifan stares at him and shakes his head, muttering, “You missed a button, you idiot.”

Yixing blinks and looks down at the shirt. His buttoning skills are fine, because he’s never had problems buttoning a shirt until today, okay. So he shoves the blame to Yifan’s shirt instead.

“Just– let me,” Yifan’s voice says above him, before hands slide over his and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Yixing watches those hands slowly slide down, before they move up again swiftly, and linger at the second buttonhole after slipping the button through. Yixing casts a glance upwards and swallows at their close proximity, at the light smile playing Yifan’s features. Yixing returns the grin, albeit tentatively, and whispers a “thanks”. Yifan blinks and mutters something under his breath, hands falling back to his side as his usual scowl makes its way back onto his face.

He grabs his bag and heads out the door, before Yixing blinks and scampers after him, only to return to the room five seconds later upon realization that he forgot to take his phone.

-

They end up sneaking in during lunch because Yixing forgets his MP3 player and his earphones, and god, when did he get the chance to unpack if he was knocked out last night?

Jongdae raises an eyebrow as Yixing plops down next to him and rubs his eyes, before he asks, “It’s not much of a surprise that Yixing’s late, but why are you guys together?”

Yixing blinks and curses inwardly, wishing that he had thought of an excuse for this question instead of fussing over his black shirt. Yifan glances up and answers, “Oh um, my house had a blackout, and I saw Yixing in the vicinity, so I, um, called him and asked him to give me a hand.”

“Right, that’s why we’re late,” Yixing stammers and brushes his fringe out of his face; cool as a cucumber, he liked to believe.

Jongin narrows his eyes and asks, “Since when do you own shirts of any colour other than white, hyung?”

Yixing squeezes his eyes shut and prays that maybe if he stayed silent, Jongin would just shut up. Yifan stifles a laugh opposite him and mouths a dui bu qi at him. Jongdae nudges him in the ribs and asks, “So, did you finish that calculus assignment?”

Yixing blinks and replies, “Calculus assignment? What assignment?”

Luhan steals a fry from Sehun and adds helpfully, “The one due in exactly twenty-five minutes?”

Yixing promptly bangs his head on the table, remembering how he had shoved the assignment aside, with self-assurance that he’ll have plenty of time to finish it say, three days down the road, on the night before the actual due date. Lovely how that thought worked out.

When the others walk off to clear their trays, he feels a small jab on his hand and he looks up. Yifan slides him a neatly written assignment and mutters, “Just this once, because I feel bad about not warning you about the drink last night.”

Yixing blinks at the assignment, before Yifan gets up and adds, “You have fifteen minutes to copy that assignment and fake a couple of mistakes. Write fast.”

Luhan appears next to him after Yifan has walked off with Jongdae, and he gives Yixing a smile, before he says, “Your shirt smells like Yifan, just saying.”

-

“It serves the best ice-cream around here,” Yixing announces as he takes his cup of ice-cream from Minseok and gives Yifan a bright smile.

He supposes that this is his way of thanking Yifan for saving his life twice in less than twenty-four hours, and to apologise for depriving him of a good night’s rest, which resulted in Yixing jabbing Yifan in the ribs more than five times during lessons to wake him up.

“Thanks,” Yifan says as he licks the drop of twinberry cheesecake trailing down his ice-cream cone.

Yixing shrugs and sucks on his spoon, as they stroll to The Paradise Bar. He casts a side-glance at Yifan, watches the way he takes in the unfamiliar shops with his eyes and holds the cone with one hand, his bag slung over his shoulder in the other.

“Stop watching me,” Yifan comments and Yixing drops his gaze back to his ice cream, which is starting to turn soupy in his cup.

He frowns at the ice cream, before hearing a stifled laugh from next to him. “My ice cream’s half-melted,” he complains.

Yifan smiles at him and answers, “Eat faster next time.”

Yixing makes a face at him as Yifan pops the last bit of the cone into his mouth, before he rests a hand on Yixing’s arm, halting him mid-step. Yifan leans towards him, and Yixing freezes as his eyes trace Yifan’s thumb making its way up to his face and he braces for impact.

“You got a little ice-cream there,” Yifan says as his thumb traces the corner of Yixing’s lip, before he brings it back up to his mouth and licks it. “Vanilla doesn’t taste half-bad, maybe I’ll try it next time.”

He smirks and turns, leaving Yixing rooted to the spot, wondering what was more mind-blowing – Yifan breathing into his personal space, or how Yifan’s cologne lingered on his nose, even after he was long gone.

-

It’s unlike him to be so late, Yixing notes as he stares at his watch for the tenth time in five minutes. Yifan usually walks into class fifteen minutes before the bell rang, and his presence was making Yixing unnaturally restless.

Jongdae smirks from behind him, and teases, “I was right. Totally your type, Zhang Yixing.”

Yixing turns around and kicks Jongdae in the shin, replying, “Channel your smartness into your academics then, or Kim-seonsaengnim might demote you back into le isolation.”

Jongdae puffs out his cheeks and snaps out a reply, which Yixing ignores as he whips out his cell phone, fingers hovering above the dial button. Yifan dashes in right before he pushes the button, with the grey hood of his sweater pulled so low that it covers his eyes, moments before the bell rings and Kim-seonsaengnim enters. He gives Yixing a small nod and proceeds to rummage his bag for his notebook and pencil case.

Kim-seonsaengnim is five minutes through lesson before she puts down her marker and says, “Mister Wu, even if you’re a model student, I would appreciate it if I could see the eyes of all my students.”

Yifan sinks a little into his seat and hesitantly pushes the hood of his grey sweater down. A soft murmur breaks out through the class and Yixing glances to his left, letting his pencil roll out of his grip, jaw agape.

“Don’t say it,” Yifan hisses under his breath, as he runs fingers through his now blonde hair.

He sees Kim-seonsaengnim stifle a laugh, and Yifan promptly bangs his head on the desk, beside him. “It’s not that bad,” Yixing blurts out.

Yifan gives him a weak smile and resumes with note taking, cursing in Chinese under his breath.

Yixing spends the rest of Math lesson marvelling over the way Yifan pushes his blonde bangs out of his eyes and the way he whispers words under his breath while copying notes from the board.

By the end of lesson, Yixing’s positive he learnt more about Yifan than the different applications of integration techniques, but he shoves it out of his head, because he is not going to admit to Jongdae’s accusation.

-

“So, what exactly happened?” Yixing asks, as he leans against the bar and waits for Yifan to finish mixing the drinks.

Yifan sighs and mutters, “Apparently, the brown hair on the cover of the hair-dye is not representative of the actual colour of its contents.”

Yixing throws back his head and laughs, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. Yifan slams a finished drink down in front of him and fixes him with a glare, as Yixing singsongs, “That’s why there are labels on the bottles, Kris-gege.”

Yifan scowls. “Thanks, you'd think I would have figured that out by now.”

He mixes the next drink in silence, as Yixing sets the first drink on his tray. “It really doesn’t look that bad,” Yixing says, as he clears his throat.

“Thanks for trying,” Yifan deadpans and continues shaking the cocktail shaker.

“I’m serious,” Yixing says and stares at Yifan. “You look good in blonde.”

Yifan’s hand stills and he pours out the drink, slides it across to Yixing and runs fingers through his hair. Great, he probably think I’m weird now, Yixing mentally face palms. He hurriedly grabs the drink and turns to go, almost missing the soft “thanks”.

When he turns back, Yifan is looking at him, a soft smile playing his lips. Yixing’s breath catches, because that’s the smile; the one that he reserves for Luhan, whom no one has the heart to be mean to, and Chanyeol, who has the uncanny ability to wiggle his way into anyone’s heart.

He gives Yifan a small nod, turns back to resume his duty, and almost trips over the ground.

-

Everything begins to fall into a habit before Yixing realizes.

Yifan would demand to check Yixing’s assignments before classes start each day, nagging at him with “why is this question undone”, or simply “didn’t I teach you how to do this yesterday”.

So when Kim-seonsaengnim returns Yixing his math test, with a huge 56% written on it, Yixing rubs his eyes and throws Yifan his brightest smile. This results in Yifan scolding him in Chinese over his careless mistakes for the next ten minutes while flipping through his paper, but Yixing doesn’t miss the way his lips curve up slightly as he returns Yixing his paper, his fingers brushing across Yixing’s knuckles.

Yifan would wait for him to finish his extra lessons every day, before they walk to The Paradise Bar together, with excuses of “I’m more productive studying in school so I might as well wait for you”.

Yixing discovers the truth behind the statement when he walks into class after his extra lessons one day to find Yifan sprawled out on his Chinese Literature textbook. He smiles and carefully pulls out the chair next to Yifan, takes out his books and proceeds to copy Luhan’s notes into it.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Yixing jumps and watches Yifan sit upright, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He smiles and replies, “You seemed tired. You don’t have to wait for me every day, ge. You can always go home and–“

“I want to,” Yifan interrupts, his hand landing on Yixing’s thigh, causing all higher motor functions in Yixing to stop abruptly.

Yifan shoves his textbook into his bag, slings it over his shoulder and heads for the door. Yixing stares at his back, grabs his stuff and rushes out to meet Yifan at the door, ignoring the fluttering in his chest.

-

“Are you busy after school today?” Yixing asks, as he flips through Luhan’s notes and adds points to his own.

“You’re not skipping class,” Yifan deadpans and twirls his pencil, casting a side-glance at him.

Yixing gives him a light punch in the arm and says, “I don’t have class today. Kim-seonsaengnim cut down on my remedial classes cause of my amazing improvement in recent Math tests.”

Yifan snorts, which earns another series of light whacks from Yixing, before he replies, “I don’t have anything on until… well.”

He meets Yixing’s eyes - The Paradise Bar - and nods, continuing, “Why’d you ask?”

-

“A warning would suffice in future.”

Yixing makes a face and gestures excitedly to the yoghurt stall, speaking rapidly, “It’s been here for 2 weeks and Luhan-ge’s already been here twice with Sehun, and he keeps praising it, so I just want to try it personally.”

Yifan sighs and watches Yixing debate between three different yoghurt flavours, before requesting for free samples from the salesgirl. “Keep the change,” Yifan insists as he shoves a note into the salesgirl’s hand.

Yixing stares at him, eyes bright with confusion as he licks his green spoon. Yifan walks to meet him and says, “It’s courtesy, for letting you try free samples.”

“Hey! Sehun said they give out free samples, stop making me seem like a freeloader! … And that looks really good,” Yixing finishes and sticks his spoon into Yifan’s yoghurt, ignoring Yifan’s “hey, I haven’t even tried it yet”.

“Yifan…?”

Yifan freezes, his eyes downcast on his yoghurt, as Yixing’s eyes trail the voice to its owner. He doesn’t look much older than them, with his short jet black hair spiked up, and his ripped jeans and sleek blue shirt. He approaches them, another man trailing behind, and throws a smile at Yifan.

“You look good,” he starts. “Better than, you know, back in–“

“I’m fine,” Yifan says, though Yixing doesn’t miss the way his eyes flash and the tension in his arms as he grips his spoon. “You look wonderful too, Zitao.”

“Yifan –“

“No, we’re done here.”

Yifan dumps his half-eaten yoghurt into the trashcan and turns back to Zitao, a stiff smile in place, as he finishes, “But it was great meeting you again, Zitao.”

He grabs Yixing’s hand, gives it a tight squeeze and drags him off, without a backward glance. They walk in silence for five minutes, before Yifan finally pauses and squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling, “I’m going insane.”

Yixing blinks, brain still whirling without comprehension of the situation, and rubs circles into Yifan’s palm with his thumb, mumbling, “Sorry, let’s just settle for ice-cream next time.”

Yifan throws him a small smile and shakes his head. They continue walking towards The Paradise Bar, with Yixing rubbing circles into Yifan’s palm soothingly.

It only strikes Yixing how weird all this is when Chanyeol starts teasing them the moment they step through the door, fingers still entwined. Yifan lets go almost immediately and dumps his bag behind the bar, rushing into the washroom, leaving Yixing dumbfounded by the door next to a clapping and laughing Chanyeol.

-

He can practically hear Jongdae singing merrily “told you so” as Baekhyun clutches his waist and leads him to the bar.

Yifan frowns at him as he shakes the cocktail shaker, while Yixing toes off his shoes and examines the base. “It’s not that bad,” Yixing concludes, after staring at the lack of lines on the soles for five minutes.

Baekhyun jabs him lightly in the arm and nags, “Yeah, say that after you nearly slipped twice and almost broke your waist the third time if I hadn’t caught you, Lay.”

Yixing makes a face and complains, “I’ll be extra careful, promise. Just let me continue–“

“No, not unless you get new shoes,” Joonmyeon says as he materializes behind them. “I don’t want you hurting yourself, Lay.”

“There are high heels in the storeroom,” Chanyeol chirps helpfully as Baekhyun bursts into laughter.

Yixing bangs his head against the bar and sighs. Joonmyeon rests a hand on his back and starts, “Maybe you should head home early and–“

“Take mine.”

Yixing stares up, just as Yifan toes off his shoes and hold them over the bar to Yixing with a look that clearly states you’re such a troublesome kid. He shrugs and continues, “I don’t have to move around much, so shoes aren’t really a necessity unless Chanyeol decides to step on me.”

Chanyeol’s jaw drops as he flails a little, insisting that he will do no such thing. Yifan ignores him and curls his fingers around Yixing’s wrist, urging Yixing to take his shoes. Yixing takes them hesitantly and mumbles, “Thanks, Kris-ge.”

Yixing slips on the shoes, sighing at the difference in size, and proceeds to dragging his feet around the bar for the rest of the night.

-

“You had sneakers and you didn’t tell me?” Yixing complains, as he stares at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun shrugs and answers, “They’re unprofessional for waiters.”

Yixing slips on Baekhyun’s sneakers and waves to him and Chanyeol, before receiving his pay envelope from Joonmyeon. He bows a goodnight and heads off, humming a new SHINee song under his breath.

He pauses, when he sees Yifan a distance away, walking slower than usual. Yixing jogs to keep up with his pace, and gives him a pat on the back, causing Yifan to jump and nearly drop his phone. Yixing beams at him and rubs the back of his neck, before saying, “Just want to thank you for your shoes just now.”

Yifan shrugs and slips his phone into his pocket, before he takes a few steps forward. Yixing watches him, watches the way his face cringes every time his right leg hits the ground.

“You’re injured, aren’t you?”

Yifan pauses and turns back, gives Yixing a smile and replies, “It’s just a minor cut, nothing to worry–“

Yixing doesn’t wait for him to finish, just grabs his bag and trots off in front of him, before turning back and saying, “I… have no idea where you live.”

Yifan sighs and limps next to Yixing. Yixing slips a hand around his waist and says, “Just lean your weight against me, it’ll be less strenuous on your leg.”

“Thanks,” Yifan says hesitantly, his eyes averting Yixing’s, as his hand rests on Yixing’s waist and he presses his side against Yixing’s. Yixing momentarily wishes to swallow his words, because there was no way his heart could endure this without bursting, and damn his body for reacting this way.

Instead, he just breathes deeply and thinks sad thoughts to slow down his heart, almost banging into a lamppost if not for Yifan’s exclamation.

-

Yixing presses his face against the windowpane of the bus and adds another stop to his mental checklist. He vaguely wonders how Yifan managed to carry his dead weight up the bus, past five bus stops (at least thus far) and pass a short distance to his house.

When he voices it out absent-mindedly to himself, Yifan shrugs and responds, “Oh, I ran into Joonmyeon. He gave us a lift back to my house, because we couldn’t get an address out of you.”

“Oh,” Yixing mumbles, as Yifan makes a sign at him to get off at the next stop.

Yixing stands and grabs Yifan’s bag, ignoring his protests of “I’m fine”, “I can carry that by myself” and “you’re overreacting”.

Eventually, Yifan gives up and settles for leading them the right way to his house. Yixing stares at his surroundings, committing the journey to Yifan’s house to memory. He might need it someday, okay.

Yifan promptly collapses on his couch once they enter his apartment, as Yixing places Yifan’s bag gently on the ground. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”

“Hmm? First cabinet to your left.”

Yixing finds it after Yifan repeats himself three times, with an emphasis on left, no your other left, you moron. He kneels down before Yifan and Yifan presses his back against the couch, sputtering, “What are you doing?”

“Helping you apply ointment. It’s my fault that you’re injured after all,” Yixing explains.

Yifan’s warm hand on his wrist stills Yixing’s movements entirely, as Yifan mutters, “It’s fine, I can do it by myself.”

He gently pries the cotton bud out of Yixing’s hand and pulls off his sock, revealing a scarlet patch of blood on his heel. He pours some ointment onto the cotton bud and presses it to his heel, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a hiss, while Yixing continues kneeling on the ground, feeling absolutely useless.

He stays that way for about thirty seconds, before Yixing gets up and says, “Let me at least cook you supper as an apology and a thanks, alright?”

Yifan sighs and gives a small nod. “Thanks.”

After moments of digging about the kitchen cabinet, Yixing turns to Yifan, holds up a packet of ramyeon and deadpans, “This is the only edible thing in your house. How do you survive?”

“Takeout?” Yifan suggests, before he confesses, “Alright, I can’t really cook, or so I’ve been told.”

Yixing grins and announces, “Then today’s your lucky day, because you’re about to taste the best ramyeon on Earth, consisting solely of noodles and eggs.”

He’s not too far off (or so he hopes) as he sets the bowl down before Yifan ten minutes later. Yifan picks up his chopsticks and bows slightly. “I’m going to start eating.”

Yixing sits opposite him and watches Yifan hesitantly pick up a few strands of noodles. He slowly brings it to his mouth and swallows, before his eyes light up and he comments, “This doesn’t taste half bad.”

“It’s just ramyeon, it’s not that difficult to prepare, especially if you’re Zhang Yixing.”

Yifan rolls his eyes and holds his chopsticks out to Yixing, asking, “Want some?”

Yixing stares at the chopsticks - the ones that were touching Yifan’s lips just seconds ago – before he settles for waddling back to the kitchen to fish out another pair of chopsticks. He bites on its edge, and says hesitantly, “Maybe just one mouthful.”

The bowl of ramyeon ends up between both of them, with their heads bent as they slurp at the noodles. Yixing beams in approval at his creation, before his eyes fall on Yifan’s head bent over the bowl, his long lashes framing his eyes, his lips red from the spice of the soup, and Yixing swallows, shifting slightly in his seat, as he crosses his right leg over his left.

Yifan looks up and smiles, saying, “I admit I had my doubts, but thanks for the meal.”

Yixing nods, gives a stiff smile and leans back down to the bowl to take another spoonful of soup. He freezes at the feel of hair brushing against his forehead, heart in his throat as he takes in Yifan’s close proximity.

His brain only manages to process the progression of things when Yifan’s lips are an inch away from his, and Yixing’s left panicking if he’s supposed to kiss him or if this is his cue to run.

The decision is made for him when Yifan curses under his breath and picks up his phone, rapid Mandarin falling from his lips. Yixing exhales and drops his chopsticks, his mind still whirling.

He ends up grabbing his bag, gives Yifan a small bow and rushes out of the apartment, ignoring Yifan’s yells of “hey, hang on”.

-

Yixing makes a special effort to arrive five seconds before the bell for class rings the next day. He even opts to sit opposite Luhan and watch him make kissy-faces (or so Jongdae claims) at Sehun, because he can’t deal with this; he doesn’t know how to.

He ends up getting dragged out of his seat by Yifan, who says simply, “I want to get a drink, come with me, Yixing.”

Yixing tries to throw Jongdae a pleading look, but gets promptly ignored as Jongin sticks his tongue out at him and mouths deal with your own shit, hyung. Yifan finally lets go when they’re a good distance away, and he runs fingers through his blonde hair, before saying, “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday, so can you not.”

Yixing stares at him, as Yifan leans against the wall and continues, “I mean, I don’t know what happened alright? But if you’re just going to act all weird about it, can we just pretend it never happened?”

There are a thousand things that Yixing would have liked to say, like no, it’s fine or but what if I liked it, maybe just something which would match his wit. However, the first words that come tumbling out of his mouth are nothing in that list. “But I’m a guy.”

Yifan stares at him with a look that clearly questioned his sanity, so Yixing shrinks back slightly and bites his lip, mentally face-palming at the absolute lameness of the words that had just spewed out of his mouth. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” Yifan says with a roll of his eyes, “just like how I’m perfectly aware that Zitao is a guy.”

“What?”

Yifan sighs and closes his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb. He finally says, “Zitao, the guy we met at the yoghurt stall. He’s my ex, alright?”

Yixing stares at him, mouth agape, because Yifan looks like he would be totally into hips and um boobs, rather than, well, dicks. “Just… forget about that, if it’s only going to cause more awkwardness, because I really don’t need more judgment in my life alright, Yixing?”

He turns to leave, as Yixing blurts out, “I used to have the biggest crush on Baekhyun, until he um, got together with Chanyeol, of course.”

Yifan turns and raises an eyebrow. Yixing exhales shakily and continues, “I mean, I’m not going to judge you based on your sexuality. Or I would have cut all ties with Luhan and Sehun long ago, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Yifan says, before he casts a look at the ground and smiles. “That’s cool to know.”

He limps off, and this time, Yixing lets him, as he introduces his forehead to the wall behind him with the realization of the impact of his words.

-

“You’re an idiot,” Jongin pants, as he moves in sync with Yixing to the steady bass of Sherlock.

Yixing ignores him and executes the final move flawlessly, before he collapses to the ground and closes his eyes. He hears a soft rustle beside him, before he feels Jongin run fingers through his hair.

“By admitting you’re gay after running away from your kiss–“

“It was an almost-kiss!” Yixing protests.

Jongin rolls his eyes and continues, “Right, same thing. You’ve practically slammed it in his face that you have zero interest in him. And here I was, telling Sehun that you’re possibly the last person to be deemed a heart breaker. I’m absolutely disappointed in you, Zhang Yixing.”

Yixing bolts upright and whines, “But he caught me off guard, what was I supposed to do?”

“So it would have freaked you out less if he said conversationally ‘hey, I’m about to kiss you’?” Jongin says with a raised eyebrow. “Get a grip, Yixing. You either kiss back because you like him or you shove him away because you don’t.”

“But,” Yixing starts and Jongin fixes him with a stare. “… I don’t know how I feel about him.”

It’s Jongin’s turn to collapse on the ground, as he covers his eyes with a towel and says, “You, Zhang Yixing, are the biggest idiot on Earth.”

Yixing ponders Jongin’s words for several moments before he sighs, “Maybe you’re right.”

Jongin sits up and gives him a gentle nudge in the ribs, a small smile forming on his lips. “If you’re regretting it now, it’s not too late to turn back and lay one on him.”

Yixing glares at him and shoves him to the ground, poking at his sides as Jongin squirms and lets out small gasps.

He promptly forgets about Jongin’s words until a week later.

♥

you had me at hello

equalises — Wed, 20 Jun 2012 01:54:10 GMT

You Had Me At Hello
408w; PG
Kris/Lay
Summary: Yixing’s eyes fly open and drifts to their direction as Yifan continues assaulting his neck.
A/N: i am blaming this on deasyellow because she put this stupid idea in my head after our date yesterday.

“We’ll just grab Yixing and be on our way,” Luhan assures Sehun as Jongin drags Sehun off to the dance studio.

Minseok bounces behind Luhan as they trudge to Luhan and Yixing’s shared bedroom, phone in his hand as he hurriedly types a message to Jongdae. “I hope he’s feeling better after his nap, since he was whining about his headache the whole car ride back,” Luhan comments offhandedly.

He pushes open the door and freezes at the sight of Yixing on Yifan’s lap, fingers gripping Yifan’s hair, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Yifan’s head is buried in Yixing’s neck, as Yixing groans softly and pushes against Yifan, and was that his hand on Yifan’s crotch, oh dear god.

Minseok chooses to look up from his phone at this moment and promptly drops it. Yixing’s eyes fly open and drifts to their direction as Yifan continues assaulting his neck. “Shit,” he mutters and proceeds to shoving himself off Yifan.

“Duizhang,” he says, teeth chewing on his bottom lip as Yifan’s hands slide down his sides. “Fuck, Yifan.”

Luhan coughs into the back of his hand as Minseok retrieves his phone from the ground, and Yifan finally drops his head to Yixing’s shoulder with a sigh. Yixing squirms slightly and Luhan notes that he has the decency to look a little embarrassed, unlike Yifan, who still seems perfectly content breathing in Yixing’s shoulder.

“Don’t you guys fucking knock?” Yifan exhales, voice breathy and slightly shaky, a sharp contrast to the words spewing out of his mouth.

“Yixing said he was sleeping!” Minseok protests.

Yixing huffs, “I said I was going to my room to cure my headache!”

Luhan furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and oh, right. He brushes his brown bangs out of his eyes and stammers, “A-anyway, we need to practise the MAMA dance break part. Jongin and Sehun-ah are already waiting for us.”

Yifan rolls his eyes and mutters, “Can’t it wait?”

“Later,” Yixing promises, pressing a kiss to Yifan’s lips and sliding off his lap.

He trudges out of the room with Luhan and a still gaping Minseok, as Yifan mumbles something under his breath along the lines of “what a cockblocker”.

It takes about three seconds before Jongin bursts into laughter and rolls about on the ground when they enter the dance studio, upon sight of Yixing’s mussed up hair, swollen lips and the obvious tent in his pants.

Luhan tries to stifle his laughter as Yixing shoots him a glare and proceeds to fixing his hair.

okay um, terribly incoherent and what is this. /shoves all blame to dessy and crawls under a rock.

the planets bend between us

equalises — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 01:30:04 GMT

The Planets Bend Between Us
5737w; PG
Sehun/Luhan, a little of Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Summary: Sehun goes on a mission and forgets everything.
A/N: for scylladakylla, who is having a tough time in college ♥

He doesn’t know what’s come over him, but he pushes forward, away from screams of “don’t let him get away”!

With no idea why, just a simple gut feeling, he forces himself to keep running, although his legs are protesting and his throat is screaming.

The last thing he remembers is a pair of black leather boots running towards him, before he falls into the sand.

-

“Don’t, you’ll wake him.”

“I’m just trying to check on his wounds and, oh… Sehun?”

“Water,” he breathes.

A cold glass is placed precariously on the tip of his lips and he accepts it graciously, downing the cool liquid in one gulp. Only then, is he alert enough to notice the two pairs of eyes trained on him. A guy with long bangs that end at his eyebrows places his hand on top of his, and asks, “How are you feeling, Sehun?”

He blinks and replies, “My name is… Sehun?”

This causes a brief exchange of glances between the pair, before the second guy with noodle hair stands up with such force that he almost knocks over the chair he’s sitting on. “I’m calling Yixing,” he exclaims and exits the room right before a light flashes and nearly blinds Sehun (or at least he thinks that’s his name).

POP, and a guy with puppy-like eyes is breathing into his personal space, waving a hand before him and asking, “Yixing says you’re broken. Want me to fix you?”

Sehun jumps and presses his back against the bed frame, because people don’t just appear out of thin air like that and eat into your personal space straight after. Noodle-hair boy returns with a lanky guy whose fringe is practically covering his right eye. The guy pushes puppy-eyes away and says, “You’re scaring him, Jongin.”

He presses the back of a hand to Sehun’s forehead and shrugs, commenting, “He’s not running a fever and I can’t see anything physically wrong with him.”

Emo-bangs takes a seat on the edge of Sehun’s bed and smiles. “I’m Baekhyun,” he offers helpfully.

He points to the others, recites their name slowly, and Sehun blinks, because is this really the most important thing right now? “Where am I?”

Baekhyun pauses and puppy-eyes raises an eyebrow. He says slowly, “You’re in your room, which is located in our house, which is in Korea.”

Sehun sputters, “O-Our?”

Puppy-eyes nods slowly and shoots noodle-hair boy a side eye glance and continues, “Yes, our. So it’ll be good if you got to know your house mates, isn’t it?”

Sehun nods hesitantly, before puppy-eyes breaks into a smile and nods at Baekhyun. Baekhyun repeats himself, eyes never leaving Sehun’s, as Sehun repeats their names. He stumbles thrice over Yixing’s name and Yixing laughs bitterly, muttering, “Just like the first time.”

Sehun frowns and wonders when they've met before, since this man (or any of them, for that matter) doesn't seem to be anywhere in his fragmented memory. A guy with light brown hair enters, and Sehun stares, because he swears this one has to be only twelve. He leans against the doorframe, breaths falling in puffs.

Sehun swallows and feels an immense pressure to say something, anything, to this new figure, instead of just blatantly staring. “Luhan,” Baekhyun says, lips pressed into a thin line as he watches this newcomer.

“Lu…han,” Sehun repeats, before Luhan lets out a loud sob and turns on his heel, out the door.

-

“So,” Sehun continues, “We’re all angels –“

“Guardians. No wings,” Jongin interrupts, earning a sharp glare from Baekhyun.

Sehun blinks and mumbles, “Right, guardians. And I’m the guardian of wind, who went missing for a week after getting lost on a mission with Luhan?”

Chanyeol nods and claps his hands. Sehun presses fingers to his temples and exhales. This is freaking insane. “He thinks we’re fooling around with him,” Luhan points out flatly from the opposite end of the table.

“How’d you –“

“Experience,” Luhan fixes him with a stare and Sehun clamps his jaw shut, folds his arms across his chest and leans back into his chair.

Yixing clears his throat and leans across the table, his finger tracing the silver band bound to Sehun’s wrist. “This,” he says, with a tap on it, “is probably suppressing your powers and blocking your memory.”

Jongin rolls his eyes and collapses next to Luhan, muttering, “Genius, hyung.”

“What’s this?” Yixing asks, his finger pausing on a particular part of the band.

Sehun flips his arm over and Baekhyun shuffles over to examine the logo on the band. “It looks familiar,” he begins, “But I can’t place my finger on what it reminds me of.”

“Think harder,” Jongin says.

“What, like you –“

“Why don’t we try to get it off Sehun’s wrist first?” Chanyeol pipes up and shoots them a smile.

“Or you could just build my memory from scratch again,” Sehun pipes up softly and shrugs as five pairs of eyes turn on him.

Sehun shifts in his seat and rubs the back of his neck, eyes downcast. He doesn’t miss the look Yixing shoots him, a mix of sympathy and was that sadness? Sehun sinks down in his seat. Great, as if he doesn’t already feel like a burden.

-

Sehun sighs and runs fingers through his bangs, giving them a gentle tug, and lets the cards in his hands slip through his fingers, onto the coffee table.

Note cards, Chanyeol had suggested. Chanyeol’s had been relatively easy to read through, considering it only had five lines, with the fifth being That’s all that’s essential about me, you’ll figure the rest out along the way, maknae :).

It was cards like Baekhyun's that gave Sehun a massive headache with its tiny words, squishing in every essential detail of Baekhyun's, right down to how Chanyeol yells at him and accuses him of barking fifty times or so before they sleep.

A cup was placed down before Sehun, and Sehun glances up, sees Luhan’s lips pressed into a tight line. He sits down next to Sehun, an arm’s length away, and says, “It’s bubble tea. It’s supposed to make everything better.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles and takes a generous sip.

“You should’ve read Baek’s last,” Luhan smiles. “He likes to include irrelevant details.”

Sehun laughs, “So I’ve noticed.”

When he looks up from the note cards, Luhan’s eyes flicker from his to the coffee table. Sehun clears his throat awkwardly and begins, “Could you tell me more about myself, hyung?”

Luhan casts him a side glance and smiles, as he says, “You’re the youngest out of all of us, although Chanyeol acts more like it half the time. You like watching action movies and you use your aegyo to get out of doing household chores.”

Sehun cocks his head to one side and shakes his now-empty cup of bubble tea sadly, as Luhan gives him a small laugh and continues, “I remember there was once when you dragged us to an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet and Yixing insisted that we lay off sushi for a month after that. You –“

Luhan pauses and looks away. Sehun frowns and asks, “What about me, hyung?”

“Nothing,” Luhan says swiftly. “It’s nothing important. It’s late, you should get some rest.”

“No, what is it? If it’s related to me, I –“

“Just, don’t,” Luhan deadpans.

Sehun looks down at the dining table and clamps his jaw shut. Luhan stands up, retrieves the cup from Sehun’s hand and turns to the kitchen. Sehun waits for him to return, stifling a yawn in the process, his brain still whirling with the possibilities behind Luhan’s words.

What Sehun doesn’t know is that when he sinks into his soft sheets and drifts off to sleep with zero formulas of what Luhan meant, Luhan gets up from his bed across the room, crosses over to Sehun's, pulls the covers up to his chin and runs delicate fingers through his bangs.

-

“Jongin…?”

Sehun gulps and stares down at the green lawn. “I don’t think this a good idea,” Sehun stammers.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Jongin yells up, a bright smile lighting up his features. “They say your true self will spring up when you’re put in danger.”

“Who is they exactly?” Sehun gulps, his eyebrows creasing into a line.

Jongin appears with a ‘pop’ behind him, gives him a sly smile, leans in and whispers, “Who cares.”

That’s the last thing Sehun hears before he is free falling and the wind whips at his hair, the ground coming closer to view. I don’t think it’s working, Sehun wants to yell, but the fear and desperation of dying renders him speechless. The light pressure digging into his wrist, hard enough to bruise is really not helping the situation. So he settles for shutting his eyes and praying it wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Jongin!”

Sehun exhales and opens his eyes to find himself levitating midair. He lands with a soft ‘thud’ on the floor, and stares up at Jongin, who’s looking down with a sheepish grin. He reappears next to Sehun and shrugs, “It was worth a shot.”

Luhan rushes over to Sehun and grips his shoulders, shaking him as he shouts, “How could you just listen to what Jongin said? What if I didn’t happen to walk out? What if I didn’t save you?”

He’s shaking, shaking so badly as he drops his voice to a whisper, “What if you died?”

Sehun’s about to cry if Luhan doesn’t stop shouting and shaking him, because he’s scaring him. But Luhan just tightens his grip and pulls Sehun into a hug, burying his head at the joint between Sehun’s neck and his shoulder.

Sehun freezes, as his heart goes into overdrive and this shouldn’t be happening. It’s a breezy afternoon, yet Sehun feels like he can’t breathe, feels like his heart’s pumping way too much blood to his hands.

When Luhan pulls back, his eyes are glassy and he turns to Jongin, yelling, “What were you thinking, Jongin? Sehun can’t control the wind with that stupid thing around his wrist and –“

“I think,” Sehun interrupts, finally regaining his ability to speak, causing both guardians to face him. “The wind was trying to tell me something, but I can’t figure out what it was.”

Jongin flashes him a bright smile and shoots a told-you-this-would-work look in Luhan’s direction, as Luhan deadpans, eyes soft but voice hard, “It’s probably trying to tell you that you’re insane.”

He spins around and walks back into the house, after shooting Jongin a final glare. Sehun spreads his palms out on the grass and stares at his bracelet. He swears it had sunk further into his wrist, but he shakes the thought out of his mind and figures that Luhan is probably right.

-

His heart stings again after dinner two weeks upon his return.

Sehun’s fingers brush lightly against Luhan’s as he takes a glass of orange juice from Luhan’s outstretched hand. Sehun freezes as a jolt of electricity shoots up his arm and Luhan pulls back so vigorously, with a spark in his eyes that looks like he’s just been burnt by one of Chanyeol’s accidental fires. Sehun’s fingers promptly let the glass slip through; it breaks with a delicate tinkling sound.

He blinks and tries to shake the thought out of his head, convincing himself that he had imagined it, as he kneels down to pick up the glass shreds. “Don’t touch it!” Luhan shrieks, his voice going up several octaves.

Luhan flings a hand out, fingers splayed, and the glass shreds fly upwards, slicing through parts of Sehun’s arm, before shattering into even tinier pieces. “Luhan!” Baekhyun yells, his eyes wide as he grabs Luhan’s hands.

Sehun stares at the scarlet blood trickling down his arm as Yixing pulls him away from the porcelain remains and waves a hand over his wounds. He smiles, “There, all fixed.”

“I’m sorry!” Luhan cries out, his petite frame shaking immensely, and Sehun blinks because it’s really not that big a deal, yet Luhan’s eyes are glassy and Baekhyun is rubbing circles into his back.

He spreads his hands, lifts up the glass remains and heads to the kitchen. Sehun stares at his retreating form and turns to Baekhyun, asks, “Is Luhan alright?”

Baekhyun fixes him with a stare so intense that Sehun shrinks back slightly, before he sighs and looks at Jongin. Jongin raises an eyebrow and replies, “The question is whether you are alright.”

Sehun stares and shrugs, “I guess? Yixing fixed up my wounds pretty quickly and –“

“You’re terrified of touching broken glass,” Jongin interrupts, and leans forward in his chair, hands clasped together.

“That’s why Luhan freaked out,” Chanyeol adds.

“Oh,” Sehun mutters for lack of a proper response.

Yixing fixes him with a careful gaze and comments, “That’s one powerful bracelet if it can erase your phobias.”

Sehun nods and pauses, before he says, “I think it might fall off soon, considering it short-circuited a while ago.”

Chanyeol cocks his head to one side and asks, “How can you even tell?”

“I don’t know,” Sehun admits, before he hesitates and adds in a softer voice, “It just-- Something weird happened just now when Luhan passed me the glass earlier. I mean, this jolt of electricity just shot up my arm and I don’t know.”

The silence that ensues makes Sehun wish he could stuff all the stupid words back into his mouth because he obviously sounded insane, if the weird stares were any indication that is.

Chanyeol is the first to break the silence as he explodes into insane laughter and nearly falls off his chair as a result. Jongin’s beaming from ear to ear and the creases in Baekhyun’s forehead ease out into a gentle smile. Sehun vaguely wonders if he’s missing out on some sort of private joke, if this was something that happened to him frequently whenever something metal was attached to his wrist.

Yixing places a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiles, “Looks like your heart remembers what your mind doesn’t.”

Before Sehun can demand elaborations, Luhan re-enters the living room with a new cup of orange juice and mumbles, “Here, Sehun.”

Sehun reaches out to Luhan, but Luhan holds out a hand and allows the glass to float across the distance between them, into Sehun’s open palm. He gives Sehun a tight smile and squeezes his way in between Baekhyun and Chanyeol on the couch.

Sehun shrugs it off and ignores the small burn in his heart. He probably ate his dinner too fast and got heartburn.

-

He learns slowly.

Chanyeol teaches him basic self-defense, nothing too fancy because the stupid silver band bound to him limits his abilities.

Baekhyun teaches him how to use a simple pocketknife;it’s not much, but… Sehun decides it’s better than nothing and tries his best to pick up the skill.

Yixing teaches him basic healing techniques and Sehun doesn’t think there’s a difference between these berries and those berries, until Yixing describes them to him. He decides it’s in his best interest to just stay away from them altogether.

Luhan sits down, a respectable distance from him, one cloudy day and stares down at Sehun, sprawled on the grass, his eyes closed. “What are you doing?”

Sehun presses a finger to his lips and stays silent for a while, before answering, “The wind is trying to tell me something.”

He opens his eyes and sits upright, and asks, “Is there something that you need to tell me, though?”

Luhan ignores his question and probes with bright eyes, “You can understand it?”

Sehun sighs and shakes his head, replies, “Nah, but I’m starting to understand her mood. Like how she’s expressing a form of light-heartedness with this gentle breeze.”

Luhan stares at him, his mouth slightly agape, as Sehun stammers, “I mean I probably sound weird, but –“

“No!” Luhan yells, before he lowers his voice as Sehun blinks at him. “No, I mean I’m just surprised you even thought of doing this. Like, trying to understand.”

Sehun shrugs and comments, “Jongin thinks I should start using my heart more, since it’s obviously clearer than my mind.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, “Crazy, isn’t it?”

Luhan's responding chuckle is just as shaky and he nods, his eyes downcast. He stands up and dusts his pants, gives Sehun a smile and says, “Come on, we should head in, it’s getting dark.”

Sehun stands and trails behind Luhan, back to the house. He tries to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Luhan plops himself down next to Yixing, as far from him as possible. Use your heart, Baekhyun had told him. Sehun’s pretty sure the stomach doesn’t count as part of the heart, despite its close proximity.

-

“Don’t let him get away! I still have adjustments to make to that bracelet!” Toss.

He turns and there are hooded figures on his tail, shooting fireballs over his head. Turn.

“I will find you, Oh Sehun, or my name isn’t Lee Inwoo!” Sehun locates the source of voice and shudders at its pale skin, marred with tattoos on his face.

Sehun bolts upright, shaking as he tries to catch his breath, while wiping drops of perspiration off his forehead. It’s just a bad dream… again. Sehun runs fingers through his bangs and sighs. It’s been a week and he’s getting sick of jerking awake with questions running through his mind in the middle of the night.

He casts a glance at the lump across the room. Luhan’s blanket is rising and falling steadily, so Sehun creeps out of bed and shuts the door behind him softly.

Sehun pours himself a glass of water and leans against the kitchen sink, his eyes falling shut as he listens to the gentle night breeze. All is well, he sighs in relief.

“Nightmares again?”

Sehun jumps and the glass slips from his fingers. Luhan waves a hand and sets it back on the kitchen counter, brushes his fringe out of his eyes and says, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I was just… lost in thought.”

Luhan washes Sehun’s glass and replies, “Bubble tea for them?”

Sehun smiles and shakes his head. Luhan stares at him and Sehun’s about to suggest going back to bed as Luhan says, “Want to watch a movie? We bought ‘Footloose’ a couple of months back, but never got the chance to watch it.”

“What’s that?”

Luhan gives Sehun’s wrist a light tug and drags him to the living room, answering, “A dance movie. You’ll love it.”

-

Except the movie doesn’t actually get watched, because Sehun ends up watching the way Luhan’s head lolls to the side when he dozes off and how he jumps up when Ariel lets out a screech and ends up wailing. He laughs into the back of his hand and Luhan puffs out his cheek, grumbles, “You’re supposed to be watching the movie, not me.”

“I can’t help it, you’re cute.”

The words come tumbling out of Sehun’s mouth before his brain processes it, and Sehun nearly bites his tongue in response. A light flush spreads across Luhan’s cheeks and he clears his throat, before saying, “You’re one to speak. You’re the one who was a former ulzzang before this whole guardian business.”

“What’s that?” Sehun asks, angling his body so that he’s facing Luhan instead of the television screen.

Luhan takes out his phone, shows Sehun a couple of photos and spends the next twenty minutes explaining Sehun’s past to him. Sehun grabs Luhan’s hand and brings the phone closer to his face at a particular photo and exclaims, “I really do look good here!”

Luhan rolls his eyes and answers, “I shouldn’t have fueled your ego.”

Sehun laughs and leans against Luhan, before noticing how long and pretty Luhan’s fingers were, and how they fit between the spaces of his. And oh dear god, what was he doing. He drops Luhan’s hand and pulls away, turning his attention back to the television screen, where Ren and Ariel promptly kiss.

God officially hates him.

They watch the rest of the movie in silence, until Luhan eventually nods off, his head knocking against Sehun’s shoulder. Sehun looks down, watches the way Luhan’s eyelashes curl up and how his mouth forms small ‘o’ shapes as his breathing stabilizes. Sehun fingers Luhan’s fringe, before he drops his hand to Luhan’s waist, just fuck it, and he closes his eyes.

The next morning, chaos ensues when Sehun wakes up with an aching back and with Jongin cackling into his left ear. Luhan makes a sound next to him and curls up tighter against Sehun, burying his face in Sehun’s neck. Sehun freezes because he definitely did not think of the side effects and reactions he’d receive for last night.

“Luhan,” Baekhyun coos, as he tries to pry a half-awake Luhan off Sehun.

Luhan’s eyes flutter open, he takes one look at Sehun and jolts away, promptly falling back into Baekhyun. Chanyeol laughs from the dining table and Yixing stifles a smile, as he places mugs of coffee down. “Go wash up,” Yixing calls, “then come for breakfast.”

Sehun blinks, still confused from all the laughing around him. He seems to be missing out on a hell lot of private jokes lately (or maybe it was always this way, he wouldn’t know). Luhan flails a little and stands up, making a mad dash to the bathroom, as Chanyeol teases, “Remember to clean up after yourself!”

Sehun massages his temples and sighs. God, all he wanted was a good night’s rest.

-

“Where are you going?” Sehun asks, as he watches Baekhyun shrug on a sleek, leather jacket; Chanyeol pulls on black gloves.

Baekhyun whacks his forehead and says, “Ah right, we forgot to tell you about this part. Every month, we need to do surveillance on the area around us, just to make sure nothing major’s happening with the other residents and you know, to make sure our secret identity remains, well, secret.”

Sehun puffs out his cheeks and nods. Chanyeol beams and ruffles his hair, “Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon, maknae.”

When they’re gone, Jongin proceeds to lie on the sofa, resting his head in Sehun’s lap. Sehun yawns and flips through the television channels. It suddenly dawns on him how quiet the house is without Chanyeol’s infectious laughter and Baekhyun’s crazy antics.

He ends up falling asleep, and he jolts awake when Jihyo lets out a particularly high-pitched congratulatory scream for finding Jongkook on Running Man Hide-and-Seek. Sehun rubs his eyes and plays with Jongin’s hair, causing Jongin to shift slightly before his eyes flicker open.

Sehun casts a quick glance at the trees, bending in the wind outside. The bark of a tiny oak, one that Yixing had planted only days ago, snaps and falls to the ground. Sehun blinks and clutches Jongin’s hand, whispers, “Jongin, something’s not right. The wind, she’s –“

“The hyungs are back!” Jongin exclaims as the door gives a light ‘click’.

Yixing looks up from the flowers that he just fixed on the dining table, and Luhan walks out with a glass of water in his hand, just as five hooded figures enter the house. Sehun gulps, “Shit.”

-

Jongin’s on his feet in a moment and Luhan is by his side almost immediately. Yixing gives a final wave of his hand over the flowers and says, “Unless you’re here to remove Sehun’s bracelet, the door is right behind you.”

One man pulls off his hood, to reveal pale white skin, with tattoos all over his face. Sehun freezes, because that’s the face, and suddenly everything falls into place.

Lee Inwoo smirks, “Strange, I expected the chosen ones to be of better quality, but it seems like you’re not too different from us.”

His gaze falls on Sehun and he bows gently, smiling, “Ah, I see you’re doing well, Sehun.”

Luhan finds Sehun’s hand and clutches it, kneading small circles into his palm; don’t be afraid. The man laughs, “Oh, that’s right, how could I forget? You don’t remember anything, so you probably don’t remember me. Let me introduce myself –“

“That won’t be necessary,” Luhan chides.

Inwoo’s smile softens, as he looks down, continuing, “Ah, but I wasn’t done, Luhan.”

He glances up and ice bullets fly out from his fingers, which Luhan promptly redirects, with a simple wave of his hand. Jongin disappears just as Luhan whispers, “Stay behind me, Sehun.”

Before Sehun can respond, the five men charge towards them and Luhan drops Sehun’s hand and raises his hands, shoving all of them back. Yixing appears by his side and says, “That bigmouth is mine; the rest are for your training.”

Luhan and Yixing’s smiles vanish, as the said bigmouth brandishes five silver bands and responds, “No need to get violent, we brought gifts for you.”

One of the men is suddenly before them, his hand around Luhan’s neck, pinning him to the wall, a silver band in his hand. Sehun falls to the ground, and he screams just as the room lights up.

“Having a party without us?” Chanyeol smirks, flames sparking off the robe of the guy who had Luhan in a headlock seconds ago.

“Good job, Jongin,” Luhan pants.

One of the men approaches Sehun and Sehun pushes himself until he’s backed up against a wall. He remembers vaguely that his pocketknife is lying on his bedside table and mentally curses at the slim chance of grabbing it under the current circumstances.

“Leave him,” Inwoo yells. “He’s the least of our worries.”

The man grimaces and aims a shot at Sehun’s thigh, which he misses as Sehun rolls on his side. “Get over here!” Inwoo yells again, and the man leaves Sehun grudgingly.

Sehun clutches at his bracelet and pulls, until tears prick at his eyes. He vaguely registers ‘pop’ sounds from Jongin, and he tries harder. The bracelet clings tighter to his skin, an act of defiance and Sehun is this close to tears because they’re all going to become like him and it’s all his fault.

Luhan’s voice snaps him back to reality, as he shakes Sehun and says, “Sehun, calm down!”

His eyes focus on Luhan’s doe-like ones, catching a brief glimpse of Chanyeol in the background, blocking off shots and yelling, “Luhan, hurry the fuck up!”

Luhan breathes, “You’re okay, we’re here and –“

“But you’re going to die and it’s my –“

“We’re not going to die,” Luhan smiles, and Sehun wants to yell, wants to tell Luhan to stop pacifying him, because he’s a big boy and he’s not oblivious to their situation.

The bracelet tightens around his wrist and Sehun chokes, as if his air is suddenly being halved. Luhan stares down at his bracelet and exclaims, “It feeds on your feelings, Sehun! The more desperate you feel, the tighter it gets. All you have to do is relax.”

Sehun opens his mouth to say he can’t, he doesn’t know how to, but no words come out, so he settles for shaking his head. Behind Luhan, Chanyeol lets out a cry, and Luhan throws a brief glance over his shoulder, desperation and panic and worry (and love? what is that hint of something else) before he leans in.

Luhan’s lips feel soft against his and Sehun’s mind goes blissfully blank, before he hears a ‘click’, followed by a clatter as silver meets the ground, and it hits him.

-

”Don’t move too much and it won’t hurt.”

Lee Inwoo hovers before him with a silver bracelet, as Sehun gets pinned down ruthlessly by two other men. Rejected guardians, he remembers, the ones who were given powers but not selected to be on the Council to protect humans due to personality defects, they'd said.

Sehun struggles against the firm grip and lets out a scream as an icy blade pierces his side, his eyes squeezed shut. He tries to summon the wind, but nothing happens. It’s not supposed to end like this, he thinks bitterly, he’s supposed to bring Lee Inwoo back to his prison cell. No one had said anything about Inwoo getting backup from fellow rejected guardians, who had somehow managed to evade the Council’s mass capture of the rejections.

“Good boy,” Inwoo coos, and Sehun hears a ‘click’ around his wrist.

His head is pounding, but Sehun finds all his strength to take advantage of Inwoo’s smugness and push aside his lackeys, shoves a table in their direction and sprint towards the exit, as he starts forgetting.

-

He manages to see Luhan lifted to his feet, a hand around his neck as Luhan grips at them. Sehun’s eyes narrow and he lifts his hand, he can hear her again, the wind, the way she laughs and wipes out the man. “Stay away from him,” Sehun snarls.

Lee Inwoo turns to him, as Sehun clenches his fists and tornados start spinning out around him. In a moment, he has Inwoo pinned against the wall, tornados surrounding both of them. Sehun can hear footsteps from behind him, before he hears a yell and he turns around to see a man surrounded by a ring of fire. Chanyeol lies on his side, his hand turning red from clutching his waist, as he smiles weakly, “Always have your back, maknae.”

Sehun smirks, “Don’t move and this won’t hurt too much.”

-

“We’ll keep a good watch over him,” Yifan promises as he glares down at a handcuffed Inwoo.

Jongin grimaces, “You better.”

Yifan and Minseok give them a smile, a promise, before Zitao waves a hand over the room and restores it. Yifan gives them a nod, before he vanishes with the other Council members and the five men.

“So,” Chanyeol says, as Yixing waves his hands repeatedly over Chanyeol’s side. “This calls for a celebration.”

“Stop pumping your fist in the air, or I’ll let you die from internal bleeding,” Yixing complains, but his voice is soft.

Chanyeol laughs and flinches slightly at the pain, as Baekhyun rushes to his side and coos over him like a mother hen. Sehun laughs, “Let’s eat sushi!”

Jongin envelops him in a hug, as uncharacteristic as that might be, and laughs into his shoulder, “Thank you for coming back, Sehun.”

-

It’s only after stuffing themselves that Yixing asks, “How’d you make the bracelet come off anyway, Sehun?”

“Oh, Luhan figured the bracelet feeds on emotions. The more desperate I got, the tighter it bound to me. So to get it off, I just had to do the opposite, relax.”

Baekhyun frowns and clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “How could you possibly relax when we’re getting our asses whooped cause of you?”

“Oh, I couldn’t, but Luhan –“ Sehun pauses, as he remembers the feel of Luhan’s lips against his, a soft shade of pink spreading across his cheeks.

Jongin catches on and nudges him in the ribs, as Sehun falls to the side and lets out a whine that Jongin’s the hyung, so he should act like it sometimes.

Yixing clears his throat, and says, “Well, did you thank him?”

When Sehun falls silent and stares at his fingers, Yixing rests a warm hand on his thigh and smiles, “Whenever you’re ready.”

-

It’s not as easy as it seems; Luhan makes sure of that. He goes to bed after Sehun falls asleep in an upright position, waiting for him, and gets up to make breakfast before Sehun’s brain can string coherent sentences together.

After two days of them dancing around each other, Baekhyun finally gets annoyed and shoves Sehun into the kitchen while Luhan is washing up after dinner, locking the door behind him.

Sehun scuffs his sneakers before he starts, “I didn’t thank you for getting the bracelet off a couple of days back.”

Luhan’s hands still on the dish he's washing, and he lets out a small sigh, as Sehun leans against the sink casually, his side pressing against Luhan’s. Luhan finally puts the dish down and shuffles a little away from Sehun, saying, “I’m sorry for things back there. I mean, for assaulting you of sorts. It’s just Chanyeol was injured and –“

Sehun wraps his arm around Luhan’s waist and pulls Luhan towards him, whispering, “The bracelet’s already gone, so we should both drop the pretense, ge.”

Luhan stares at him and his lips curve up in a small smile, as Sehun leans down so that their lips meet halfway. Sehun kisses him deep, a month of pent-up love, pulling Luhan closer to him.

When they pull away, just enough, he mumbles, “I’m sorry, for, you know, being a jackass in general for the past couple of weeks and –“

Luhan shuts him up with another kiss, pressing his back against the sink. He slips his thigh between Sehun’s legs and presses closer, hands cradling Sehun’s head as he closes all distances between them. Sehun sighs into the kiss, marveling at the perfection of all this just before a cool blast of water hits his face.

Jongin shuts the tap and whines, “Could you guys not. Like it’s not gross enough that Baekhyun is kissing Chanyeol’s wound better. You guys were so… into it, you didn't even notice me unlock the door. This is just... super awkward. For me and Yixing.”

Sehun laughs and gives Jongin a gentle shove, before planting another kiss on Luhan’s lips, just because he can. Jongin mock pukes and Luhan flails a little, a flush spreading across his face as Sehun rests his arm on his waist and leads him back to the living room.

He watches Jongin whine to Yixing about how annoying their members are, and the necessity to get new guardians, straight ones, before he loses his ability to be normal. Yixing laughs good-naturedly and flips through television channels. Baekhyun is pressed up against Chanyeol’s side, and Sehun takes a sit next to him, pulling Luhan into his embrace.

He smiles, as Luhan curls up against him and says, “I’ve always wanted to watch the sunrise. Baekhyun told me it’s beautiful.”

“We can go tomorrow,” Sehun suggests, before he adds, “if you don’t fall asleep watching ‘Footloose’ again.”

Luhan puffs out his cheeks and whines, “I won’t! So… it’s a date?”

Sehun presses a kiss to Luhan’s forehead and smiles, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, ge.”

sobs alright, just want to add a thanks note to sunlit here, for listening to me whine incessantly about this fic while writing it. and also, for beta-ing it like 28409823052 times. sobs. hope you guys liked this nonetheless ;~~~;
also, credits to snow patrol for the title and to special girl R for suggesting it, HOHOHO. (<

The Winter When We Fell In Love

equalises — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 14:36:28 GMT

The Winter When We Fell In Love
2094w; PG
Myungsoo/Hoya
Summary: For once, Myungsoo actually wants to complete the resolution list that he's been putting off for years, and he needs Hoya's help.
A/N: this is meant as a belated birthday present for sunlit, as well as a christmas present! hope you like it (: and thanks to deasyellow for brainstorming ideas with me, and whitewires for the betawork! merry christmas everyone! ♥

I`ll keep on feelin` everytime
You are in my heart
Baby Don`t cry it’s all right
I want it to be the two of us
Snow White; Super Junior

“Our shop’s closed,” Hoya says without so much as an upward glance.

Myungsoo raises an eyebrow and waves hello to Woohyun and presses a finger to his lips, silencing Dongwoo. He smirks, “Not even for your best friend?”

Hoya’s fingers stop moving and he looks up from the cash in his hands, smiles and greets, “Myungsoo-yah.”

Myungsoo shifts past Sungjong and ruffles his hair, before he pauses in front of Hoya and leans against the counter, a smile in place. Hoya places the cash back in the cashier and closes the drawer, before he wipes his hands on a cloth and asks, “You want something to drink?”

“Oh no, how could I possibly ask the café owner to serve me?”

Hoya smiles and replies, “Oh then you’ll need to leave sir, we’re only working half-day on Christmas Eve.”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and jabs Hoya, whining, “Yah, can’t you even spare your best friend some time on Christmas Eve?”

“Go ahead, hyung. We can close up here,” Sungjong beams at Hoya.

Hoya shrugs and asks, “So what would you like to do?”

Myungsoo grins and pulls a crumpled notebook paper from his pocket, and passes it to Hoya. Hoya’s eyes widen as he stares at the list and Myungsoo says, “Remember how I’ve always said I want to create a resolution list but never did?”

“You’re joking, please tell me this isn’t it. Who has only 10 items on a resolution list?”

“Come on, you’ll help me complete it, won’t you? I was hoping to complete it before Christmas,” Myungsoo shrugs.

Hoya turns and blinks at Myungsoo, stammering, “Wait, you want to complete all this in 10 hours? And you want me to work on Christmas Eve, seriously.”

Myungsoo stares at him and slings an arm around him. “Come on, don’t think of it that way. We’ll be having fun together.”

“Yeah. Sure. Fun.”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and drags Hoya out of the store, throwing the remaining trio left a grateful smile.

-

Ride a motorcycle.

“Please look after it,” Sunggyu nags as he dangles the keys above Hoya’s outstretched hand. “I’ll kill you if there is a single scratch on it.”

Myungsoo smiles and takes the keys from Sunggyu, answering, “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

Sunggyu gapes at him as Myungsoo swiftly plugs the keys in, throws Hoya a helmet and straps the other to his head. He pulls Hoya on and drives off just as Sunggyu yells, “Lee Howon, this wasn’t part of our deal!”

Myungsoo throws back his head and speeds up, smiling victoriously as Hoya’s grip around his waist tightens. He tilts his head towards Hoya and smirks, “Well, you can cross that off.”

Hoya blinks at him and wordlessly crosses it off, before he screams slightly and clings to Myungsoo’s waist as Myungsoo speeds up.

-

“So, where to?” Myungsoo asks, as he pauses by the road ledge and lets Hoya take a closer surveillance of the list.

“You want to meet Dong Bang Shin Ki? Who do you think I am?”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and shrugs, “Just improvise and use your imagination.”

Hoya blinks at him and perks up, “Go to that place where we always dance with Woohyun and Dongwoo-hyung.”

After several moments of attempts to understand the situation on Myungsoo’s part, and blatant staring on Hoya’s part, Myungsoo gives up and gets back on the motorcycle. Myungsoo frowns after several moments and speeds up, causing Hoya to yelp and wrap an arm around his waist.

He pulls over at the roadside and plucks the keys out, as Hoya yanks the door of their dance room open and heads in. Myungsoo pulls off his helmet, chucks it on the handle of the motorcycle and follows Hoya in.

It’s pitch black and Myungsoo inches in, hissing, “Lee Howon, where the hell are you?”

I got chu under ma skin.

Myungsoo laughs into the back of his hand as he pauses at the front row of the auditorium and watches Hoya dance to Mirotic, lyrics falling off his lips as he moves to the dance that Myungsoo can never master. He strikes a pose and Myungsoo’s lips quirk up, as he raises an eyebrow at the random situation.

“Thank you for coming to our concert today! And who’s that I see in the audience?” Hoya asks, and points in Myungsoo’s direction.

Myungsoo blinks and mouths me? Hoya grins and continues, “Yes, that pretty boy over there. Isn’t that our biggest fan, Kim Myungsoo, who will be a rising star in the near future? Come up here and give Junsu-hyung a hug.”

Myungsoo throws his head back and laughs insanely, before he climbs on stage and tackles Hoya into a hug nonetheless. When he pulls back, Hoya beams at him and prods, “I do resemble Xiah Junsu, don’t I?”

“Sure, minus the soulful voice and the kick-ass dance moves.”

“Hey, my dance moves can kick your ass any day.”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and crosses Meet DBSK off his checklist nonetheless. He grins at Hoya, “Where next?”

-

Film a historical Korean movie.

“Seriously?” Hoya stares at him with a raised eyebrow.

Myungsoo huffs and mumbles, “Dong-Yi was a cool drama.”

Hoya blinks at him for three seconds before he bursts out laughing. Myungsoo rolls his eyes and throws a helmet at Hoya half-heartedly. He snaps, “So, any bright ideas for this one?”

Hoya throws the helmet from hand to hand, gaze downcast, before he brightens and answers, “You know the way to that really cool Hanbok shop?”

“The one where you shamelessly begged the ahjumma for a purple Hanbok?”

A light whack on the shoulders and Myungsoo smirks, “Alright, I think I remember where that is.”

Twenty minutes later, a purple hanbok is being shoved into Hoya’s arms and Myungsoo bites back a laugh, as she nags, “Ah I remember you. Not many boys come in here asking for a purple Hanbok.”

Hoya flushes and does a slight gesture in Myungsoo’s direction. The ahjumma frowns slightly and says, “We don’t have another one in purple, but I think I have a pink –“

“Black,” Myungsoo blurts out. “A black Dopo is good for me.”

The ahjumma frowns at him, and fusses over how a young good-looking man such as yourself should wear something brighter, like green or red, before finally pushing Myungsoo into a changing room to try on his Dopo.

When he re-enters the room, tugging at the sides of his Dopo, Hoya is trying on a Gat. Myungsoo rolls his eyes and yanks the Gat out of Hoya’s hands, and props it on his head. He smirks, “You should wear a Daesu. It matches your Hanbok better.”

Hoya puffs out his cheeks and argues, “But Myung-Yi sounds better than Ho-Yi or Ya-Yi.”

Myungsoo laughs and rolls his eyes, “What has this got to do with anything?”

“You wanted a historical film, didn’t you? Well, I’m getting you a historical film poster now. All you need to do is Photoshop in the date of premiere and write a plot.”

Myungsoo just blinks as Hoya pulls him closer and smiles widely at the camera, unable to hear anything above the beating of his pulse.

-

“This,” Hoya says, “Is kind of a wide genre to work with, Myungsoo. Don’t you have anything more specific?”

Myungsoo shrugs and leans against Sunggyu’s motorcycle. “It doesn’t really matter so long as it’s a good deed. Come on, be creative, le café owner.”

Hoya stares at the list, before he breaks into a grin and looks up at Myungsoo. He straps on his helmet and raises an eyebrow at Myungsoo, who just shrugs and asks, “Where to now?”

“My café.”

-

“What are you doing?” Myungsoo asks, as he gets off the motorcycle.

Hoya mumbles something unintelligible with the marker cap still between his teeth as he scribbles something on the whiteboard he retrieved from the café. He caps the marker and beams at the board, before he drags Myungsoo out to the middle of the sidewalk, knocking into a couple of passers-by.

He shoves the board to Myungsoo and takes a couple of steps back. Myungsoo blinks as a girl takes a look at him, before she runs up to him and squeezes him in a hug, promptly knocking all the air out of his lungs. Hair and boobs and oh dear god.

When she lets go, giggles, bows at him and walks off with her friends, gushing wildly, Myungsoo stares down at the board and nearly flings it at Hoya. “Free Hug? How is this a good deed?”

“Think of all the single girls whose hearts are fluttering after receiving a hug from you? That’s a lot of happy girls, isn’t that a good deed?”

Myungsoo glares at Hoya and lowers the board, as a young boy hugs him. He snarls, “There, I made one girl happy, let’s move on.”

Hoya stares at him and asks, “Hey wait, why are you acting like this? You asked me to be creative right?”

“Yes, but at least think up of something normal, hyung. If this is your idea of a joke, then good job, you got me.”

“I don’t –“

“I’m gay, Hoya.”

Hoya stares at him, his jaw agape, and he shuts it, muttering, “I’m sorry, I didn’t –“

“It’s fine,” Myungsoo interrupts, “I never told anyone apart from Sungyeol and Woohyun-hyung.”

He straps on his helmet and sighs, tossing Hoya the keys. “Let’s just get to the Christmas party. You can drive.”

Hoya doesn’t say anything, just plucks the keys in and moves towards Woohyun’s house. Myungsoo sits sideways and ends up placing his hands on his lap, after moments of awkward dangling in the air.

-

“Hey, there’s just one item left,” Hoya breathes as he pulls the keys out of the ignition.

Hoya stares at the list as Myungsoo presses the head of his sneakers into the sidewalk. “I can’t help you with this though,” he says softly after staring at the list.

Myungsoo pulls the list from him and stares at the final uncrossed item. Spend a day with the one I love and receive his kiss at midnight. He shrugs and shoves the list into his pocket, exhales deeply and says, “You already did.”

Hoya’s eyes are wide and he’s apologising, saying things that Myungsoo really doesn’t want to hear. So, he bows slightly, and mumbles, “Thanks for your help and time today,” before he breaks into a sprint and enters Woohyun’s house.

-

“Hey,” Sungyeol starts and pokes him repeatedly, as Myungsoo stands in the corner of the house, a bottle of soju raised to his lips. “Weren’t you with Hoya today? Where is he?”

Myungsoo shrugs, avoids Sungyeol’s glare and lets the soju burn his throat as it slides down, mentally willing Sungyeol to leave him alone.

Sungyeol doesn’t. Instead, he leans against the wall next to him, brushes his fingers with Myungsoo’s - It’s okay, Myungsoo-yah. - and says, “Come on, let’s gather around the tree, it’s almost midnight.”

“I don’t –“ Myungsoo splutters, but pauses when Sungyeol fixes him with that look, and follows.

The last thing he really wants now is to see random couples making out around him as Sungjong raises a silver bell and shakes it, signaling the start of the countdown.

5. “Myungsoo-yah, who are you going to kiss?” Woohyun teases.

4. “Yah, don’t make fun of him,” Kibum says and threads fingers through Woohyun’s hair, throwing Myungsoo a grin.

3. “You can save a kiss for me, you know,” Sungjong grins at him.

2. No.

1. If it’s not Hoya-hyung, it can’t be anyone else.

Cheers of Merry Christmas ring out amidst the crowd as Sungyeol pulls him and Sungjong into a hug, before Myungsoo feels a light tug at his hand.

Hoya’s hands are freezing and he shoves a package into Myungsoo’s hand, smiles, “Merry Christmas.”

Myungsoo blinks and Hoya blurts out, “I left your present at home and I went to get it. That’s why –“

“Hyung,” he interrupts, “Thank you.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Jesus, hyung, you don’t go around announcing that you’re gay.”

“No,” Hoya deadpans, “That you like me.”

“Because you’re straight and it would get awkward and –“

Myungsoo thinks he’s permanently lost the ability to breathe, as Hoya pulls away from him and mumbles, “I don’t. I mean I’ve never kissed my best friend before.”

Myungsoo pants, “Neither have I,” and leans in for a second kiss.

He figures it’s alright, they’ll just learn along the way.

christmas drabbles for yadong couple :3

equalises — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 14:19:09 GMT

The Confession I Never Made
433w; PG
Dongwoo/Woohyun
A/N: written for whitewires, who wanted some 2woo and cute mistletoe ♥

“But we have to go,” Woohyun whines as he tugs Sunggyu’s sleeve and shoots him the most kicked puppy face.

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and replies, “Save it, hyung. We’re not your oogly-eyed fans who squeal at your aegyo.”

Dongwoo blinks as Woohyun slumps down on the sofa next to him and wraps his hands around Dongwoo’s arms. He stares up at him with large eyes and Dongwoo gulps, as Woohyun asks, “Hyung, can’t you convince them to go? I promised Dongwoonie we would go and help them decorate their house for Christmas.”

“We should go,” Dongwoo says, just as Sungyeol yells, “Hyung don’t fall for his tricks!”

Woohyun narrows his eyes at Sungyeol and pounces on him, in an attempt to strangle him. Dongwoo beams at the rest and reply, “But I promised Kikwang that we would go, as you know, a band. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Sunggyu lets out a groan just as Woohyun squeals and gives Dongwoo his brightest smile.

-

“Hey, welcome,” Doojoon says as he holds the door open and shoots them a bright smile.

“Dongwoo!” Kikwang squeals and squeezes Dongwoo into a hug, as Woohyun slings an arm around Dongwoon and passes him the beer they bought.

Dongwoon grins and says, “Let’s get cranking then.”

Hyunseung and Junhyung bring out a giant Christmas tree, as Sungjong trails behind them with a huge bag in hand. They crowd around the bag and pull out random decorations, before splitting up.

“Can’t reach,” Dongwoo frowns as he tiptoes and tries to attach an ornament to the doorway.

Woohyun rolls his eyes and teases, “Why must you attach it there if you can’t reach it?”

He takes the ornament from Dongwoo and hangs it at the designated place, as Dongwoo flashes him a grin and answers, “Kikwang says it has to be there.”

Dongwoo frowns and glances up at the same time Woohyun does.

“Mistletoe!” Yoseob exclaims and bounces around, as Dongwoon tries to stifle his laughter.

Dongwoo flails about a little and opens his mouth to protest just as Woohyun leans forward and presses their lips together. Dongwoo squeezes his eyes shut, one, two, three, and Woohyun pulls back, flushes and whispers with a small smile, “Mistletoe.”

Dongwoon appears behind him and smiles, “See, I’m such an awesome friend.”

Woohyun’s eyes widen before he snarls, “Son. Dongwoon.”

He proceeds to chase Dongwoon around the house as Dongwoo shakes his head and brushes fingers across his lips. He watches Woohyun tackle Dongwoon into a hug and pokes at his sides until tears form.

His heart’s really never stood a chance.

∞

Charming Eyes, Please Steal A Look At My Heart
326w; PG
Woohyun/Sunggyu
A/N: for mei_zi, who requested for "the morning after" and made me write woogyu when I swore never to ):

Woohyun awakes with a pounding headache, his limbs tangled with Dongwoo’s. He groans and untangles himself silently, stepping over Sungyeol gently, and lightly kicks Myungsoo as he shuffles past, just because he can.

“Aspirin,” he mumbles, as he fumbles with the drawers.

He pours himself a glass of water and exhales, popping pills into his mouth. He sighs and throws a couple of beer cans sprawled on the ground into the trashcan. I’ll just make Sungjong-ah wipe up the spills later, he thinks and heads back out.

Woohyun pauses near the kitchen frame and leans against it, as he shakes his head at the mess before him. Having a drinking party on their one day off didn’t seem like such a good idea the following morning.

He scans the room, and mentally lists just how badly they’re going to get scolded later. His eyes pause momentarily on their leader, before he walks over and squats down. Sunggyu’s sprawled out under the Christmas tree, his grey hood pulled over his head. Santa received my wish list after all.

Woohyun pokes Sunggyu’s cheeks and whispers, “Gyu, we need to clean up before Hyoan-hyung gets here.”

Sunggyu shifts slightly as his eyes flicker open and he mumbles, “Maybe later.”

Woohyun’s about to protest, but Sunggyu tugs at his hand and he crumbles, falling into Sunggyu’s arms. He puffs out his cheeks and presses himself a little closer, his eye fluttering shut.

In around fifteen minutes, Hyoan-hyung will be in here and they will be dragging their tired bodies up from the ground. Sunggyu will be screaming instructions at them, Dongwoo will be trying to crawl back into bed, Hoya will be picking up random scraps of trash, Sungyeol will be begging the coffee machine to function normally, Myungsoo will be clinging to his bamboo pillow, and Sungjong will be getting yelled at by everyone.

But Woohyun figures he couldn’t care less. For now, he just wants to enjoy this.

unofficially yours

equalises — Sat, 12 Nov 2011 06:31:50 GMT

Unofficially Yours
specialises
3735 words ; R
Woohyun/Myungsoo; !slight Sungjong/Sungyeol
Summary: Myungsoo thinks that Nam Woohyun chasing after him for money that Sungyeol borrowed is hardly counted as romantic.
A/N: idea was originally by pikagyu, found here. i just extended it and changed parts here and there. dedicated to chungmah, simply because it’s wooL. and also for deasyellow because she’s a part of the flawless ’94 line and wooL needs more love. thanks to whitewires for the beta work and listening to me whine while writing it.

Because of you you you you
 I only think of you
 You you you Now 
Love me, love me, only look at me
You; B2ST

“You did what?”

Sungyeol gulps and fiddles with his thumbs, his gaze downcast. Myungsoo shakes his head, leans back into his sofa and covers his ears, yelling, “I’m going to go back to sleep and all this is going to be a dream when I wake up.”

He shuts his eyes. Sungyeol’s fingers grip loosely on Myungsoo’s wrist and pull his hands away from his ears. He stammers, “It’s the last time, I swear! It’s just, Sungjong said I would make it big at the casino this time.”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and just throws his head back against the sofa. Sungyeol rocks on his heels and clears his throat, “I should go now. They’re probably going to show up anytime.”

“Wait, they know where I live?”

Sungyeol backs away slowly as Myungsoo gets to his feet and moves towards him, “Uh, they wouldn’t lend me any money unless I gave them a name and an address, and you were the first person who came to my mind. So, bye Myungsoo! You’re the best!”

He reaches the door and opens it, almost colliding into the man standing outside, before he makes a run for it.

The man raises an eyebrow and stares at Myungsoo, before he asks, “Does Kim Myungsoo live here?”

Myungsoo swallows and stares at him. He’s dressed pretty decently, minus the gloves, but maybe he just has rashes or something. A pretty face like him wouldn’t bother doing such dirty deeds anyway. He shrugs and nods.

The guy smiles and closes the gap between them, gripping Myungsoo’s chin and saying, “Then we have some unsettled business between us.”

Fuck his pretty face.

-

“How the hell am I supposed to raise that much money? Your thug’s only giving me a 2 day extension, Sungyeol,” Myungsoo hisses into the phone, ignoring the stares the other patrons are throwing at him.

“Look, just give me time and I’ll find a way to raise the money for you. My cousin’s sending some cash over, which should cover everything.”

Myungsoo sighs and asks, “But…?”

There is a short pause of silence before Sungyeol says, “Well, it’ll take 3 days to clear transactions and everything.”

“You better be cracking every brain cell of yours to get that money to me in 2 days right now.”

“Just find a way to stall, Myungsoo! I’ll try my best to hurry things along!”

Myungsoo’s jaw drops as he sees the café door crank open and a familiar face walks in. He whispers, “Call you back later,” before he hangs up and stares down at his coffee.

A hand appears before him and the man from the morning sits down opposite him. “Nam Woohyun. Remember that, cause it’ll be the name that you’ll be screaming when you’re in pain. Or pleasure, whichever’s applicable in your case.”

Myungsoo ignores the outreached hand, “Why will I be screaming your name in pain?”

Woohyun shrugs and smirks, “Pain or pleasure, like I said.”

Myungsoo stares out the window and sips his coffee half-heartedly. Woohyun leans across the table and continues, “Gyu-hyung wasn’t happy about not receiving his money. Your pretty face had better be worth all that trouble, Kim Myungsoo.”

He chokes and shoots Woohyun a glare, only to receive another smirk. What was that for?

Myungsoo leaves enough money on the table and walks out of the café, with half his coffee untouched. He’s glad that when he casts a quick glance behind him after a short distance, he’s just greeted with passers-by that he would never need to know, the beat of his pulse roaring in his ears.

-

Myungsoo doesn’t think he’s going to ever get used waking to the sound of rapid rapping on his door. He sits up and ruffles his hair, groaning, “That better not be Sungyeol.”

He staggers to the door and opens it, before slamming it shut again. “Kim Myungsoo, open up!”

Myungsoo leans against the door and yells, “You said two days!”

“I’m not here to chase you for the money!”

Myungsoo swings open the door, and asks, “Really?”

A roll of the eyes and a nod’s thrown in his way as Woohyun says, “I… just need to shift in to make sure you don’t run away without paying or anything.”

“Don’t you guys usually have guarantors or something for such things in case the person ran away?”

Woohyun rocks on his heels and avoids Myungsoo’s eyes, muttering, “Well, my previous tenant kicked me out when she found out my ‘salesman’ occupation was a hoax, and I need a place to stay.”

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and snaps, “So that means I’m your next alternative? We’re not even related in any way, why should I help you?”

“Because if you do, I’ll give you five days instead of two.”

Myungsoo pauses, and mentally lists out the pros and cons of the deal. Three days could make a huge difference to his life. He leans against his doorframe and says, “Fine, but you’re doing your own laundry and cooking your own meals. And no entering my room, ever. Deal?”

The infamous smirk appears, accompanied by a nod. Myungsoo sighs and steps aside, as Woohyun drags his luggage and duffel in. Myungsoo points to a room opposite his and says, “That’s your room. Kitchen’s over there, washing machine is over there, and no stealing of my food.”

“Scrooge.”

“What?”

Woohyun hums and pulls his luggage to the room, leaving Myungsoo at a loss of words, mentally listing down just how much Sungyeol owes him, in terms of both monetary and sanity payment.

-

“I’m starving,” Woohyun deadpans.

Myungsoo rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee, “So go buy food or something.”

“Can’t you just spare me a cup of coffee?”

Myungsoo sighs, and shakes his head, “Top right hand cupboard.”

Woohyun beams and retrieves the coffee, promptly making himself a cup. Silence falls between them as Myungsoo stares at his papers and prepares for his meeting later that day. “So, how did you make the jittering stop?”

Myungsoo glances up from his documents and sputters, “What jittering?”

Woohyun throws a quick glance at him and says, “Oh, Gyu-hyung told me I’m supposed to get money from a jittery, over-excited guy called Kim Myungsoo. You’re neither.”

“That’s none of your business, is it? Your job’s just to collect money from Kim Myungsoo. So just sit around and wait for your cash. You’re getting out of here once you get your money.”

Woohyun shrugs, stirs his coffee and walks out of the kitchen.

-

Myungsoo thinks he’s permanently lost the ability to control the muscles in his jaw. Howon gives him a light shake, next to him. He faintly hears him asking if he’s alright, and frantic apologies on the other line.

“You’re kidding, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Myungsoo, I’m really sorry. Really.”

Myungsoo clicks his phone off and he grips his phone until Howon lightly pries his fingers off and pats him on the back. Myungsoo buries his face in his hands and chokes out, “Howon, my life’s over.”

Howon puts his arm around him and asks, “Was that Sungyeol?”

Myungsoo nods, and sighs, “It’s over. He lost my money. No, he lost Nam Woohyun’s money. Where am I supposed to find money to pay back such a collusive sum?”

“Wait, what do you mean he lost it?”

“He went to gamble, thinking he can get the entire sum back.”

Howon sighs and grips Myungsoo’s hands, rubs soothing circles into his back and says, “It’s going to be okay.”

-

Woohyun’s really the last person that Myungsoo wants to see right now, yet when he cranks open his front door, Woohyun greets him with a nod and continues cooking.

Myungsoo brushes past him and goes straight to his room, slams his door shut and pulls out his bankbook. Fuck, this can’t even make up a quarter of the sum.

A gentle knock on the door and he growls, “Go away.”

Woohyun opens the door a tiny crack and says, “I cooked dinner, and I kinda prepared extra cause I checked your drawer and all you had was cup ramyeon. So I thought –“

“You thought wrong. As much as I appreciate your kindness, I don’t want it, so please just leave me alone.”

Myungsoo closes the door and leans against it, threads fingers through his hair and desperately wishes for any alternative to get him out of this situation.

-

A little after midnight, Myungsoo peeks out of his room and walks to the kitchen, upon noticing that Woohyun’s door was closed.

He opens the drawer and pulls out a cup of ramyeon, after he sets the kettle on the stove. “Don’t eat that.”

Myungsoo jumps half a mile into the air as Woohyun flicks on the light, takes his cup ramyeon and chucks it back into the drawer. He switches off the stove and pulls the kettle off it. Myungsoo sighs and hisses, “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

Woohyun opens the freezer and replies, “You’re just fast-forwarding to your death if all you consume is cup ramyeon.”

He pulls out frozen food on a porcelain plate, unwraps the clean foil and transfers the food to a tray, before popping it into the microwave and turning the dial. Myungsoo shakes his head and sits down at the dining table, “It’ll be better that way.”

Woohyun turns and faces him, “You’re not the guy I should be chasing for money, are you?”

Myungsoo stares down at the table and traces the patterns on it with his finger. He glances up as Woohyun sets a plate of bulgolgi and a bowl of rice before him, and asks, “You cooked this?”

Woohyun shrugs and questions, “Why are you so surprised? Just take it as payment for letting me stay here until I find a new place to crash.”

Myungsoo hesitates, picks up his chopsticks and tucks in. They sit in compatible silence for several moments, before Woohyun starts to indulge him in small talk. After which, Woohyun offers to do the dishes, even on Myungsoo’s insistence on him leaving it.

“Just get to bed. If you’ve never had anything apart from cup ramyeon at home, chances are you’ll break every dish you try to wash, or leave filthy greases on it.”

A light whack of his fingers and Myungsoo sighs, bows a thank you and heads off to his room. Maybe, just maybe Woohyun isn’t that bad as he seems. Myungsoo lies down on his bed and stares at the ceiling, drifting to sleep with images of Woohyun’s bright smile flashing past him and his melodious laughter ringing in his ears.

-

“I know this isn’t even half the sum, but it’s all I have at the moment.”

Woohyun counts the cash Myungsoo pushes across the table and hesitates, “Do you need me to buy you more time?”

Myungsoo looks away and asks, “Can you?”

Woohyun takes out his phone and presses it to his ear, “Sunggyu-hyung, I’ve gotten half the sum from Kim Myungsoo. No. Um… Yeah, I understand. It’s just, a couple more days please? On account of the number of times we’ve worked together?”

Myungsoo stares at his feet and fiddles with the pawn receipts in his hands. He watches Woohyun pull the phone from his ear and nods at him, “You have a week from now.”

“A week?”

“Do you know how long it even took me to negotiate for that?”

Myungsoo bites his tongue and nods, mumbles a ‘thanks’ and throws his pawn receipts into the bin on his way to his room. Goodbye my precious, there’s no way I’m getting you back.

-

Myungsoo rubs his eyes and nearly gets the shock of his life. Why am I lying on Nam Woohyun’s lap?

Everything comes rushing back to him, the bottles of Soju, the endless cursing with Howon, Howon sending him back home and throwing him into Woohyun’s arms, and oh god, what did he do after that? Myungsoo covers his eyes and chokes back a groan. Woohyun shifts and opens his eyes, “Oh, you’re awake.”

Myungsoo attempts to sit up, but clutches his head in pain and rolls off Woohyun’s lap. Woohyun stands up from the couch and moves towards the kitchen, before putting a cup of water and pills down before Myungsoo. Myungsoo mutters a ‘thanks’ and downs the pills with a huge gulp of water, as Woohyun collapses next to him and mumbles, “I’m never sleeping while sitting upright again. My back hurts.”

Myungsoo fiddles with the cup and finally asks, “Did I do anything remotely humiliating last night after Howon sent me home?”

Woohyun sits up and throws a casual glance at him, “Oh, you don’t remember?”

Myungsoo shakes his head slowly, still looking at the cup rather than Woohyun’s eyes. “Oh, forget it then.”

Myungsoo sits upright and yells, “Hey! Tell me!”

Woohyun pauses, midway to his room, turns back and smiles, “You didn’t do anything remotely strange, alright? Get some rest. After effects of drinking always sucks.”

Myungsoo clutches his head and sighs. Woohyun pauses before turning the doorknob to his room and says, “Tell me when you’re feeling better anyway. I have somewhere I’d like to bring you to.”

“Where?”

-

“Are you serious?”

Woohyun grins at him and nods. He cocks his head towards the empty Ferris wheel carriage and holds out his hand. Myungsoo rolls his eyes and hits his hand out of the way, before shoving his hands into his pockets and moving forward.

He holds up two fingers to the guy behind the control booth, who just points to a slow-moving carriage and yawns at him. Woohyun grips his wrist and drags him on, pulling the door shut behind them.

Myungsoo leans back against his seat and asks, “So, what’s with the Ferris wheel?”

“Appa used to bring me here when I was a kid whenever I was sad. Somehow as I grew older, it became a habit for me to ride in this whenever I’m troubled.”

Myungsoo hums and stares out the carriage. When he turns back, Woohyun is leaning across the cramped carriage, breathing into his personal space, Myungsoo’s heartbeat at his fingertips. “You can’t pay the remaining sum, can you?”

Myungsoo looks down at his fingers and mumbles, “I’ll find a way.”

“Why do you bother helping him after he’s done the same thing so many times?”

“What?” Myungsoo jumps and shifts forward unconsciously.

Woohyun smirks, “You told me that when you were lying on my lap last night.”

Myungsoo chokes and Woohyun’s smirk widens. “He’s my best friend. If I don’t help him, who will? And I can’t possibly watch him get chopped to death.”

Woohyun pauses, an inch away from Myungsoo, Myungsoo’s pulse speeding up to match his breathing, “So you would rather I chop you to death?”

“Would you?”

Woohyun grins and closes the remaining gap between them. Myungsoo’s eyes flutter shut as Woohyun’s hands run up his arm, and he tries to remember how to breathe. He lets out a soft gasp as Woohyun bites on his lower lip, allowing him to slip his tongue in.

This snaps Myungsoo back to reality as he grips Woohyun’s biceps and pushes himself back, his eyes wide and his lungs screaming at newfound oxygen. Woohyun smirks and runs a thumb over his upper lip, “So much better without the taste of alcohol.”

“What?”

Woohyun smirks again and steps out of the carriage as the door slides open, “Go search your memory, Myungsoo-ah.”

-

It goes on for days. Woohyun’s hand lingers when he passes Myungsoo anything, he grins brightly at Myungsoo whenever they lock glances and he even lets Myungsoo use the toilet first in the morning, without knocking every five seconds to rush him.

Myungsoo just avoids, avoids, and avoids.

All this comes to an end when Myungsoo walks out of his room at midnight to get a drink, and he sees the glass in Woohyun’s hands slip from his hand and Myungsoo catches him before he hits the ground.

“Yah, Nam Woohyun,” Myungsoo shakes Woohyun’s limp body in his arms. “Hey, if this is your idea of a sick joke, it’s not funny.”

Woohyun doesn’t stir, and Myungsoo shifts away from the glass pieces strewn on the ground, “Woohyun, don’t scare me.”

He places a hand to Woohyun’s forehead; it burns under his skin and Myungsoo bites his bottom lip, before lifting Woohyun up. He kicks open Woohyun’s room door and sets him down on the bed, before he turns and heads to the kitchen. It’s going to be a really long night.

-

When Myungsoo wakes up with a jump the next morning, the first thing he does is panic. Woohyun is nowhere in sight and there’s a blanket over him. He opens the door to Woohyun’s room and peeks out at the living room, cracking his aching back from sleeping on a chair.

I’ll be late tonight, don’t wait up for me. Breakfast is on the table.

Myungsoo peels the post-it off, sighs and makes his way to the kitchen.

-

It’s not like he’s expecting anything when he opens the front door to silence and emptiness. Yet, Myungsoo feels part of his heart sinking.

No new messages. He sighs and types “Hi, I think I’m in love with you” to Woohyun, before he shakes his head and his finger hovers over the delete key. Instead, he just screams, throws his phone on the table and makes his way to the kitchen.

He pulls out a cup of ramyeon and places the kettle on the stove. It’s your fault for not being around to make me a proper meal. He shakes his head and grumbles, “Yah, Kim Myungsoo, snap out of it. Who is he to you?”

Myungsoo’s halfway through pouring hot water on his ramyeon when his right hand swivels at the sound of rapid door knocks and spills the water on his left hand instead. “Shit,” he whispers and runs his hand under the tap.

The knocks get harder, more repetitive, and Myungsoo turns off the tap. He swings the door open, and before he can blink, Woohyun falls right into him. Myungsoo stumbles backwards and stares at the blonde boy at his door.

“I told him not to, I really did! But he wouldn’t listen to me and he made Gyu-hyung really mad and –“

“What? Who are you?” Myungsoo interrupts the boy, who just blinks at him.

The boy takes a deep breath and says, “I’m Dongwoo, Woohyun’s co-partner and best friend. I… The thing is, Sunggyu-hyung thinks that Woohyun’s gone soft and he wanted to knock some sense into him.”

Myungsoo sighs and sets Woohyun down on the couch, beckoning Dongwoo to shut the door behind him and follow. “Is it because he keeps asking for an extension for me, because I can –“

“He paid your debt for you.”

-

“Just call me if he wakes up or if you need help,” Dongwoo says as he passes Myungsoo back his phone.

Myungsoo nods and ushers him out, before he leans against the door and sighs. He returns to Woohyun’s room, tripping over his backpack in the process. Myungsoo stares at the backpack and growls, “Why is your stupid owner making things so difficult for me?”

He gives it another kick for emphasis and it falls to the ground, contents spilling out. Myungsoo curses under his breath and bends over to toss the contents back into Woohyun’s backpack. His fingers flit over a box and he pauses.

He opens the box and sees the watch his father gave him on his 18th birthday. Myungsoo drops it back into Woohyun’s bag and starts yanking open random drawers in the study table next to Woohyun’s bed.

He’s halfway through flipping the thick stack of pawn recipients when he hears a soft, “Hi.”

Myungsoo turns and sees Woohyun blinking at him. He sighs and takes a seat on Woohyun’s bed, opening the first aid kid. “You know everything, don’t you?”

Myungsoo doesn’t reply as he pours ointment on the cotton bud and dabs it at the side of Woohyun’s face. Woohyun laughs, “I’m so troublesome, aren’t I?”

“Can you please just stop talking,” Myungsoo says, his eyes not meeting Woohyun’s.

Woohyun’s hand grips his wrist, stilling his movements. Myungsoo exhales shakily and whispers, “Why do you bother?”

Woohyun laughs, “I don’t know either. But if it bothers you, I can leave and everything will be back to normal. It’ll be like we never met and Myungsoo –“

He really talks too much, is Myungsoo’s last thought before he squeezes his eyes shut and pins Woohyun to the wall, his lips on his. When he pulls away, Woohyun makes a soft whiny noise and yanks on his shirt.

Myungsoo laughs and complies, pushing his hands under Woohyun’s shirt. “Ouch,” Woohyun grumbles as he grips Myungsoo’s hand.

Myungsoo flushes and exclaims, “I’m sorry! I forgot and –“

Woohyun throws him a smirk and pushes him onto his back, “It’s alright, you can always make it up to me.”

Myungsoo closes his eyes as Woohyun’s lips move lower and he stops thinking altogether.

-

Myungsoo wakes up the next morning with Woohyun curled up against him, his head tucked at the crook of his neck, and the blanket tangled between them. Myungsoo smiles and pulls Woohyun a little closer.

When his alarm goes off, Myungsoo rolls around before he bolts upright, noticing the empty spot next to him. He pulls on his shirt and pants and opens the door, mumbling silent prayers under his breath.

He lets go of the breath he’s been holding as he approaches the kitchen, as he wraps his arms around Woohyun’s waist and mumbles, “Good morning.”

Woohyun jumps a little and laughs, “I don’t want to burn down my kitchen, Myungsoo.”

Myungsoo laughs into his shoulder, “Since when was the kitchen yours?”

Woohyun shrugs, “It’s not like you use it anyway, Cup Ramyeon Chef.”

Myungsoo pouts and whines, “Fine, it’s yours if you make food for me everyday.”

“Deal,” Woohyun laughs as he flips the pancakes onto a plate and walks to the dining table, with Myungsoo holding on to him. Woohyun reaches across the table and feeds Myungsoo a forkful of pancake.

Myungsoo grins, takes a bite and presses send on his phone.