exomeme | part two hundred and twenty one

part two hundred and twenty one

chiyu chiyu

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"My mom is bringing snacks today!" Jongin says excitedly as he bounces up on his toes. He points over the bleachers where his mother has rested the coolers. "There's different kinds of fruit and some granola bars and the little water bottles and and and..."

"Jongdae make your brother be quiet. Please," Chanyeol whines. Jongin immediately clamps his mouth shut, eyes already filling with tears. He latches on to his older brother quickly and Jongdae wraps an arm around Jongin.

"Don't be a buttface," Kyungsoo says as he walks up behind Chanyeol. Chanyeol tries to duck but it isn't enough, Kyungsoo's fist hits his shoulder hard.

"Be nice or I won't let you play PS3 with me."

"Fine, fine." Chanyeol flinches as he's punched again and rolls his eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Jongin nods, small hands rubbing the tears of his face. His face immediately lights up as he spots Joonmyun walking over. Jongin launches into his brother's arms talking a mile a minute. Joonmyun smiles and shifts Jongin to his hip, away from the dirt on his white and blue uniform.

"Your slide to third base was so cool, hyung. So cool. The most cool," Jongin babbles happily and wiggles with excitement when Joonmyun places his cap on Jongin’s head.

"I liked the poster you and mom made for me. Were you the one who dumped all the glitter on?"

"Yeah! I wanted it to be sparkly shiny in the sun so you could see it everywhere." Jongin reaches out and tugs at Joonmyun's hair with one hand while patting his cheek with the other. "I see Sehun. Can I go play?"

"Yeah, let's go." Jongin climbs over to Joonmyun's back, little fingers wrapped in his hair to hold on even though Joonmyun would never drop him. "Jongdae, we'll be back for your game. Jongin and I want to watch you destroy the Cardinals." Joonmyun carries Jongin away, leaving Chanyeol to sputter angrily and tug his Cardinals cap down.

"I thought hyung was nice."

"He's my brother," Jongdae replies, grin wide.

"Where's Minseok hyung?" Kyungsoo asks. Before Jongdae can answer Chanyeol whoops excitedly and swings his glove in the air as he runs over to the blue minivan that had just parked next to the curb. Baekhyun jumps out and slams the door shut hard while screaming bye to his mom. He's in his Rangers uniform identical to Jongdae’s but has his lucky socks on; a neon green pair of baseball socks with bumblebees on them.

"Hey losers, ready to lose?"

"I know where you live."

"Of course you do, Kyungsoo. You were at my house on Saturday for my birthday party." Baekhyun laughs. He slides next to Jongdae so they can do their best friend handshake (that Chanyeol always says is stupid but Baekhyun thinks he's just jealous because Kyungsoo refuses to have a best friend handshake).

They stand around talking for a few moments before the Rangers' coach comes by and tells Baekhyun and Jongdae to get on the field for warmup. Baekhyun pulls on his catcher gear, their team bats second today, and follows Jongdae out to the diamond to catch his warmup pitches. They've been a pitcher and catcher duo since they first moved out of coach pitch and always work well together. Baekhyun even paints tally marks of all Jongdae’s strikeouts on his catcher's helmet.

The game has a slow start and doesn't pick up until the fifth inning when Chanyeol bats a teammate in, parents erupting in cheers. Chanyeol raises a fist and shakes it at where Joonmyun is sitting with Jongin, Sehun, and their parents. Sehun is booing loudly and Jongin is pouting into his snowcone, the bright red cherry syrup running down his hand.

"Time!" Baekhyun yells as he runs across to the pitcher's mound. "Dude, relax. You're getting tight."

"I know, I know. It's just..." Jongdae trails off and the silence hangs heavy between them as the noise from the crowd on the bleachers grows louder.

"If this is about your dad just forget about it. Forget what he said. You're a good freakin' player."

"Not as good as Joonmyun."

"Ok just stop. Let's get through this game and then you can invite me over to your house and we can play Smash Brothers," Baekhyun laughs and pats Jongdae’s shoulder. "You know Joonmyun is total crap at that game."

Jongdae tugs his cap down and gets back to work. Strikes out two and gets the third out when Kyungsoo pops up a fly ball into the outfield. The Rangers rally after that and score three runs.

-

"Free snowcones!" Jongin yells from behind the snack table as the Rangers line up at the concession stand. Winning team always gets free snowcones and the losers get first dibs on the snack table. Joonmyun helps his mother hand out snacks while Jongin shares a bright green snowcone with Sehun. Kyungsoo takes a granola bar and moves behind the table to sit with the kids. Chanyeol takes the snack Joonmyun offers him and stiffly accepts a hug when he slips behind the table.

"You had a good RBI. Plays like that will help get you selected for the district team," Joonmyun says fondly as he forces another hug on Chanyeol. Chanyeol pushes him away but finally smiles as he forces Kyungsoo to share his chair with him. Baekhyun and Jongdae come over a multicolored snowcone each. They immediately scrape off of each into an empty cup and hand them over to Kyungsoo and Chanyeol.

"Friendship rule 14: Always share the snowcones," Baekhyun says solemnly. When the four first met in elementary school and become friends they had started a friendship rule book in an Incredibles notebook. The early rules were silly and easy to follow: no killing, share your snacks, no girls allowed. But now that they were about to go into middle schools the rules had changed because girls still weren't allowed but girlfriend stealing and dating someone else's crush were strictly forbidden.

"Snowcone?" Sehun asks as he pops out from under the table, lips and chin stained green. He tugs at Kyungsoo's shoelace and struggles to his feet.

"You've had enough, little man," Chanyeol laughs and hauls Sehun up into his lap. Kyungsoo leaves after that, his dad calling for him multiple times before Kyungsoo finally runs off to the parking lot. Everyone else piles into the Kim's minivan for the five minute drive home, Sehun has a playdate with Jongin and Baekhyun and Chanyeol are sleeping over.

Jongin and Sehun run screaming into the backyard while Jongdae leads his friends upstairs to his room. Joonmyun tugs Chanyeol to a stop as they hurry past his open door.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"It's fine, hyung. I'm good."

"Good. I like your smile." Joonmyun says it causally and ruffles Chanyeol's hair. "And stop growing. You shouldn't be taller than your hyung." Joonmyun slips back into his room, he has an essay to write, and Chanyeol runs down the hall and into Jongdae's room. Baekhyun takes one look at his face and gags.

"Why do you have the same look on your face like that time Stacy Kim kissed you on the school bus?"

"I do not!" Chanyeol huffs, sitting down on the floor and grabbing his usual controller.

"You... like my brother?" Jongdae asks calmly with an incredibly embarrassed look on his face. Chanyeol squirms a bit, randomly pushing the buttons on his controller.

"No. I don't.. it's just... he's a boy?"

"That's not the point. The point is he's Joonmyun," Baekhyun laughs and randomly selecting a level for them to battle on. "Who cares if he's a boy."

"This is gross. Chanyeol I can't give my blessing on this until you help me kill Baekhyun."

"Hey! I'm a melee master!"

SRY TEAM LMAO

lol irl

I'M CRYING

lmao i love this

dying sehun's says SEHUN

theme: swap? fantasy?

drabbles part of uh a turning-into-dragons!au

kyungsoo finds out that he can turn into a dragon. baekhyun and chanyeol are of no real help. suho is leader dragon of seoul and this goes nowhere i am sorry.

All it takes is a glance at Chanyeol over his shoulder for the message to click. Jongin does just that, expressionless, and both of them push their chairs away from their desks at the same time, the screech of the metal against the concrete jarring. Jongin jams his hands into his pants and they walk out of the classroom just as their math teacher walks in. No shade, really, Jongin would have walked out no matter which teacher, but the teacher’s yelling something behind them, Jongin doesn’t really care what. It’s a beautiful afternoon outside, way too beautiful to pillow his head on his dictionary and drool on the pages. Chanyeol slings an arm across his shoulder as they make their way down the corridor, Jongin glancing at his grin. Chanyeol’s very different - markedly different from Jongin, on first glance. Chanyeol has a grin that can get way too big for anything nearing human and a loud obnoxious laugh that Jongin does not understand, while Jongin is as unimpressed as faces get because hey, call him again when the world starts moving away from total shit. They’re an odd pair, and Jongin doesn’t really remember how they started hanging out together, but Chanyeol’s a worthy soccer teammate and fills in the fun part of cutting class, so Jongin supposes there’s that.
Jongin vaults over the staircase railing to land on the ground floor as Chanyeol tries to slide down the railing clumsily because of the backpack weighing down his shoulder, and they pad out of the school with the sun and breeze on their faces, Chanyeol blabbering on about some new band or the other. Kicking at leaf piles on the pavement, Jongin finds themselves heading towards the neighbourhood playground, the one they about grew up on, the one they always head to anyway because it’s not like the neighbourhood has much to offer. Jongin knows the exact curve of the springy duck’s back, and jumps to crouch on it when they get there, jamming the lollipop he nicked from that scrawny kid this morning into his mouth.

“Dude,” Jongin looks at Chanyeol, who’s sitting at the top of the slide, his legs nearly reaching the bottom.

“Shit sucks,” Chanyeol tells him, “let’s do something. I wanna try out that camera place. You think they’ll notice if I nick one?”
Jongin ignores him. “Dude. Let’s quit school.”

Chanyeol looks at him with no smile, but with the corners of his eyes pulled tight, sussing him out. Jongin lets Chanyeol catch his eye for a second just so Chanyeol knows he’s serious, then turns away, scuffing his shoe along the spongy floor of the playground.

“Yeah?” Chanyeol has his mouth open in a crooked smile.

“We don’t do anything in school, anyway.”

“Besides stare at that one girl’s rack.”

“Fuck off,” Jongin throws his lollipop at Chanyeol, who gets a streak of sticky spit through his hair before the lollipop falls to the ground. Chanyeol reaches a leg out to plant his foot in Jongin’s side, knocking him off the springy duck. Jongin gets up very disgruntledly to walk over to the swings and step onto one, trying his best to gain momentum.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol shrugs, “I’m down. Quit, whatever.”

“We could sleep till noon and play billiards all day or something.”

Chanyeol gives him a short glance, then bends over to play with his laces. Chanyeol doesn’t cut class and bum around for reasons like he does - Jongin just doesn’t see the point of going to class. Chanyeol, on the other hand, weighs everything by his scale of fun, and class is not the nearest to the top of that scale.

It doesn’t surprise him when Chanyeol suggests something else. “We should go down to the countryside, or something. The beaches.”

“What.”

With a snort, Chanyeol shrugs and gets off the slide, hurdling over the low barrier at the edge of the playground to hit the pavement in a puff of dust and grit. Jongin watches him for a few seconds, then jumps off the swing to join him.

“It’d be cool,” Chanyeol says, by way of explanation.

“I’m broke,” Jongin reminds him as sarcastically as he can. “And so are you.”

“Ehhhh,” Chanyeol pulls a face, “we can get a job or whatever.”

“I don’t wanna have to work."

Chanyeol rolls eyes at him and elbows him in the chest.

i fucking love this lmaoooooooo omg beautiful :*

omfgggg

omg i want to comment on so much stuff but theres so much

ahhh anon i love this

luhan is a soloist and yixing's a backup dancer

It was only two years, Joonmyun had reminded him with a bright smile that almost erased his fears, and, he wouldn’t be absolutely alone, not with backup dancers and vocalists, and labelmates by him.

Still, Lu Han hated the idea. Alone, for the first time since debut. He would much rather be joining the army with the rest of his members, even. But instead, he’s promoting alone, a soloist.

Recording at least passed without troubles; he was used to recording alone, they always did. But when it came to dance practice (alone, for what felt like the first time despite all the times he had stayed behinor arrived early to practice by himself), all he had was the choreographer, whose foreign words offered him no comfort, and the backup dancers, more plentiful than before—a reminder, that he was alone.

Try as he might, Lu Han could feel himself stumbling throughout the practice. His heart wasn’t into it, and his body wouldn’t—couldn’t, he told himself—perform as he wanted it to. After making the wrong turn yet again and stumbling straight into one of the backup dancers, he decided maybe it was time to call it quits for the day. He’d reorganize his thoughts and come back.
Bowing an apology to the choreographer and explaining with what vague English words he could, Lu Han slunk away, dejected.

“You alright?” a voice called out and Lu Han paused for a moment to look back down the hallway. One of the backup dancers, bag slung over his shoulder and following not far behind him, took the opportunity to catch up to him. Lu Han blinked, confused over the question, until he remembered—oh, this was the person he had crashed into.

“Fine,” he snapped without meaning to, reminded of his earlier embarrassment. “Sorry about that,” he added to soften his words, slipping away

SOME WHILE LATER

“Did you always know you liked boys?” Yixing asked him out of the blue one day, and Lu Han choked on his water, coughing and spluttering and spilling half of the bottle down his shirt before Yixing rescued it from him, laughing in that way of his that almost convinced Lu Han to forgive him for the burning ache in his throat and the tears in his eyes.

“What,” he choked out, and Yixing just laughed more, patting his back and offering the water again. Lu Han glared back and Yixing shrugged, pulling back and taking a swig of it himself.

“No, just—did you? I finally got around to watching some old shows of yours and, the way you answered interviews and the like—”

“Wait, you’re only now watching my shows?” Lu Han cut in, as if it were the worst crime in the world.

“Yup,” Yixing said, and Lu Han wondered if he should be glad his boyfriend wasn’t a saesang fan, or insulted because he hadn’t bothered to follow his group before.

“But,” Lu Han conceded, “no.” Tugging Yixing toward him and spinning them so that he had Yixing pressed back against the mirror, he breathed out an embarrassed laugh. “Would it be lame to say you’re the only exception?”

“It would,” Yixing grinned back, letting himself be manhandled as he wrapped his arms over Lu Han’s shoulders.

“It’s alright then, we can just say you’re not one,” Lu Han answered, nuzzling their foreheads together and going crosseyed as he watched Yixing’s eyebrows knit together in slight confusion. “If anyone asks, I have a really flat-chested girlfriend by the name of Zhang Yixing.”

667 words. was gonna write this into chensoo but i lost steam because i was so hungry.

When Lu Han was told that the filming for the new movie was going to be for two months—on location in Shanghai, with just his manager, and M wasn't coming along—he nearly backed out of the role. Not verbally, of course, but mentally. Minseok saw it in Lu Han's body, the way it slightly recoiled from the news, as if he'd been hit in the forehead by a badminton birdie. His mouth opened in that futile way it did when he was too surprised or upset to gather his Korean properly, and before he could manage to say anything, Minseok walked up to him and jabbed him in the side with two sharp fingers.

"Ah!" Lu Han bent sideways, then bounced upright again. "What was that for?" he squawked, slapping at Minseok. Those two seconds counted; their manager was walking away, cell phone already cupped to his ear, and Lu Han's belated call of, "Hey, wait, can't we still talk about this?" faded weakly into the air, only heard by Minseok, and possibly Jongdae, who may or may not have been asleep on the nearby couch.

Minseok said, "You can't chicken out of the role. You heard Manager. Everything's already been confirmed. You agreed to it last week."

Lu Han bristled like an offended cat. "That was before I knew we were going to be staying in Taiwan for May! I thought we were all going to be living in Shanghai together!"

"What, and we'd just hang around while you finished your filming? It was either going to be Taiwan or Beijing. There's no SM office in Shanghai."

"As if there'd be nothing for us to do there, though! We could just schedule photoshoots and interviews until the filming's done. If I'm in Shanghai, and you guys are in Taiwan, like—how's that even going to work? We can't—we're a group, we can't get split up like this." He looked genuinely distressed at the thought.

"Groups do this kind of thing all the time," Minseok said. "Super Junior hyungs travel all around Korea and China with solo acting gigs. And Kyungsoo managed okay with his movies last year."

"But—with Kyungsoo, everyone was still in Seoul—"

Minseok cuffed Lu Han's shoulder. "Stop feeling guilty. Promotions will be over by then. You won't be leaving us high and dry." Lu Han's face stayed stiff and pinched. Minseok added, "And you're right, there will be schedules for us in Shanghai. So we'll get to see each other. But just not every day. Maybe every two weeks? It'll be like visiting your parents when they live in another city."

That just made Lu Han look more affronted. "I'm the parent?!"

"Joke."

There was a pause. "You're awfully supportive of this project," Lu Han accused, almost suspiciously.

"Me?" said Minseok. "I'm just accepting the ways thing are. What's my humble opinion worth against China's insatiable demand for their prince Lu Han?"

Lu Han karate-chopped his neck. "Don't call me that. Yixing's the prince around here, not me."

"Yes, Lu ye."

The hand at his neck shifted to curl around the back of Minseok's skull, ruffling at Minseok's hair. Lu Han liked to pet him like that. Minseok stepped away. Lu Han's arm dropped. "If you mess it up I'll have to get it styled again," said Minseok, trying to sound gentle, because Lu Han's expression was still a bit strained—although now more on the resigned side of stress than that initial flare of panic.

"Two months," said Lu Han.

"Hm," agreed Minseok.

Lu Han took a deep breath. He visibly steeled himself, shaking out the dust motes and insecurities in his head. "Okay," he said. "I can manage two months."

"Yes you can," said Minseok. "Do well in your incestuous movie and make us all proud."

Lu Han ignored that. They'd tired themselves out days ago, making fun of the film's unimaginative plot. "And how about you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at Minseok.

"What about me?"

"Are you going to be okay without me for two months?"

If Lu Han wanted to fish for compliments, he needed to find Yixing or Kris. Minseok had no plans to encourage Lu Han's appetite for fluffy reassurances—tough luck for Lu Han, since he only really begged for them out of Minseok's mouth.

"A bed all to myself, no one stealing my coffee, getting to go shopping without someone constantly chattering in my ear—I'll try to survive," said Minseok.

Lu Han's face scrunched up in mock anger. "I knew it. You just want me gone, don't you?"

Minseok faked a wounded gasp. "You've seen through my plans!"

"In that case, I'll stay in Shanghai and never come back!"

"Shanghai would eat you alive," said Minseok, and let himself be taken by the arms.

Lu Han wobbled them both back and forth, swaying on the spot like some malfunctioning pendulum. "You take that back, you dick. I'm a Beijing man! Shanghai hasn't got anything on me." Left right, left right. He was starting to smile.

"We'll see in July, then, won't we?" said Minseok. "I'll prepare myself for your inevitable C-pop makeover."

"Hah. If it came to that, you wouldn't be able to resist me."

"Oh?" Minseok asked, raising his eyebrows. "It'll have to be quite an improvement, then." Lu Han's eyes widened comically. He stopped spinning them and reeled Minseok closer. Met the challenge in Minseok's gaze.

He licked his lips.

"Can you guys please go somewhere else with your loud flirting," came Jongdae's weary voice, muffled by his palms. "Some people are trying to nap here."

He'd been kidding with Lu Han, but actually, the first few days after dear Mister Deer had been packed, shipped, and handled safely to his Back to 20 press conference to meet with reporters, directors, producers, and co-stars alike, all of whom knew his name and said they were excited to get to work with him (oh my god what if i let them all down, Lu Han's text said, and Minseok replied with, are you insane??), Minseok really did enjoy his newfound freedom. Lu Han had the tendency to hog the blankets, and when he didn't he clung to Minseok, koala-style, which overheated Minseok and primed his body with a layer of sweat by first alarm, long before any of that day's dancing had begun. Lu Han also nursed this bad habit of drinking the coffee that Minseok left on the counter to cool—he would be taking his shower while Lu Han and his iron tongue were helping themselves to Minseok's first dose of caffeine of the day, never mind the fact that there was more than enough coffee left in the pot for multiple servings. (He always claimed that Minseok's cup tasted better for some reason. Obviously because he didn't have to do anything to make it.)

And Minseok was least surprised by how nice it felt to have full agency over his own body again; with Lu Han far north across the East China sea, Minseok's limbs and senses resettled into the now-rare state of independence—that is, without Lu Han grabbing his hand to pull at his body and his attention, without Lu Han wrapping an arm around him to guide him this way or that, without Lu Han's chipper voice constantly prattling on about harmless things like beanies and food and soccer, always bookended with his expansive repertoire of nicknames for Minseok. Minseok-ah, Minseokie, Xiuminnie, Umin-ah, Baozi, Mandoo, Hot Trend Xiumin, da ge, even his secret weapon, when he really wanted Minseok to kick his ass—baby—Minseok was so used to hearing all of them that the newfound quiet in life in this Lu Han-less epoch felt like stepping into a calm oasis. EXO songs, memorized scripts, and Lu Han: these made up the soundtrack of Minseok's daily life, but now minus Lu Han's chorus, Minseok remembered what it was like to make a comment to himself, hum a snatch of a song with no accompaniment, to sit and think, uninterrupted, without someone else beside him egging him for reactions. Honestly, it was liberating, in a relaxed sort of way. Very peaceful. Sort of like that light feeling a person got while on vacation, miles away from the weight of his usual obligations and responsibilities.

The novelty dimmed fast. Day three into Lu Han's absence, Minseok woke up in the middle of the night from a stress-nightmare, hand automatically groping left to where it knew Lu Han's body would be. But there was nothing there except blanket and more blanket, and in Minseok's sleepy panic, he had the immediate, blood-curdling thought that Lu Han had left him. It'd happened. Finally, it'd happened. Lu Han had come to his senses.

But then reality asserted itself again as Minseok woke up fully: he was being stupid .Yes, Lu Han had left, but he hadn't left Minseok. They'd spoken on the phone not long ago. Lu Han was just in Shanghai.

Just a few hundred kilometres away, in a huge city, practically all alone, with no one to steal the covers from while he was asleep.

The image of Lu Han as a small blip in the sprawling terrain of his king-size hotel bed (of course they treated him like royalty over there) sent a sudden jolt of pain through Minseok's chest. Lu Han got cold at night; the reason he always clung to Minseok was because Minseok gave off heat like it was his biological imperative. Was the coffee the hotel served him in the morning to his taste (two creams, sugar only when it was raining)? What would Lu Han pull close when he was startled awake by his own brand of nightmares?

Minseok fumbled beside his pillow for his cell phone. He pulled up their most recent IM conversation on Kakaotalk, dated three hours prior. The last message had been Lu Han's: u better dream about me or else!!!! GOOD NIGHT

Minseok wished he had. But he wasn't a big dreamer; he slept and woke up, and in between was only a fuzzy darkness that seeped away from his head in the mornings like sand through a sieve.

He debated typing something back, something saccharine and cutesy, just over-the-top enough that Lu Han would laugh and not take Minseok seriously. Or he could be honest, straight-forward, since texting made that kind of sincerity easier to share. i miss you too. i'm thinking of you. just parrot back what Lu Han had already mostly said. So easy. Barely even a sentence.

He ended up falling asleep again trying to think of the right thing to say. That morning, shower finished, he returned to the kitchen to find his cup of coffee on the counter, untouched and at the perfect temperature. It felt almost like an insult.

Minseok was no stranger to the question, "What did Lu Han see in him?" It was most often posed by Lu Han's hardcore fans, infused with varying levels of contempt and confusion, peppered through the message boards every time photos of the two of them emerged: at the airport, Lu Han's arm slung around Minseok's waist; at a concert, their hands giving each other's a brief squeeze; on the streets, in a coffee shop, in a store, the two of them walking side by side, their strides identical and shoulders brushing level. Why him? What was so great about that Xiumin guy? Sure, he had his good points, but he wasn't anything compared to Lu Han. What explained this hold that Kim Minseok had over him?

These fans were late to the game. The first person who'd ever posed that question was also the one who asked it the hardest. One who understood all the layers inherent within it, and knew just how deeply the answer—whatever it was—could cut.

It'd been almost four years since Minseok first asked himself just what it was that kind, beautiful, sparkly-eyed Lu Han, who got along with anyone and everyone and could have had his pick of friends, found interesting about Minseok, who, during their predebut period, was one of those afterthought trainees no one paid much attention to because they all expected he'd be let go, soon enough—Minseok included. Imagine Minseok's disbelief to find that life had another path for him to take: not only to debut with SM's newest supergroup, but to be the object of an intense, almost worrying level of affection for someone who was so far out of Minseok's league that they really shouldn't even be standing in the same ball park.

Lu Han always said Minseok was too hard on himself, and Minseok always parroted the same thing back at him. They weren't even talking about the same things, really. Lu Han had grown up catching people's attention. He never knew what it was like to be unpopular, didn't have to wonder if a person had any worthwhile contribution; he never stared at the mirror and try to see himself as someone else.

How long have they been together now? Minseok knew the taste of Lu Han's saliva, sweat, and semen. He knew the tunes that Lu Han sleep-sang when he was dreaming about his childhood. He knew how many moles Lu Han had on his front (none) and back (two; one below his left shoulder blade, and one in the middle of his spine, like a target for kisses). Minseok was a master of all knowledge Lu Han. But the area of Lu Han re: Kim Minseok? He still wasn't sure he was any closer to the answer.

(STUFF HAPPENS; THE TWO OF THEM GET TO REUNITE FOR A DAY)

"Hey. I—" he heard himself say. It was a weighty "I". Lu Han froze like a scene on pause, his eyes huge. Minseok stared back, both of them caught in the precarious equilibrium of the moment.

The words were there. Right there, at the tip of Minseok's tongue. He'd practised so hard the past few days. Repetitions while taking a shower, while brushing his teeth, carefully watching his lips shape out the correct pronunciation, trying out different ways to stress each word. Mumbling the lines over and over like a mantra as he climbed into bed, so they'd be already there on his lips the next morning, ready to be picked up again. He didn't even work on his Chinese this much.

I love you, you know.

I love you. You know.

I love you. You know?

You know, I love you.

Lu Han. I love you.

Every time he'd said it, he'd pictured what Lu Han's reaction would be. He'd be delighted, most likely. Maybe stunned. Maybe overcome. Maybe he'd cry. No, he wouldn't cry. But he might laugh, the same way he laughed in nervousness when the camera was trained on him alone, and there was no one else within an arms length radius for him to grab. He would say it back, though. Wouldn't he? Minseok had been pretty sure he would.

But none of this mattered if Minseok couldn't fucking get the words out in the first place.

"I—"

God, why was he like this? Why was it so hard for him to say it? It shouldn't be so hard. It shouldn't make him feel so embarrassed, so small and fragile, to admit his love for Lu Han, because all he was doing was stating what was true. Putting voice to facts, facts that were already etched on his bones, growing under his skin like a live thing, changing the way he breathed and moved and looked at the world—if Minseok could peel himself open, he was sure the words would be tattooed all over him, as clearly as ink on paper. The sky was blue, grass was green, and Kim Minseok cared for Lu Han, very, very much. He held it all, within him. He just had to let it go.

"I'm."

Lu Han was still waiting. He hadn't budged an inch, though his gaze was softening by the second. And his fingers twined with Minseok's were slowly gripping him tighter. Soon it would be too tight, and Minseok would have to pull off. But maybe this time he wouldn't. He'd let Lu Han squeeze as hard as he wanted, because maybe then he could forcibly push the words out of Minseok like a tube of toothpaste. Wouldn't that be poetic? Minseok, as ever, the sand and soil shaped inexorably by the whims of Lu Han's rivers, Lu Han's wind.

The pressure was too much. Minseok broke, letting out a long, aching breath. "Sorry," he said, "just give me a second and I'll—"

Lu Han's face cracked open and he surged into Minseok.

(KISSES HAPPEN

MINSEOK TRIES TO SAY I LOVE YOU AGAIN, STILL FINDS IT HARD)

....

"Don't hurt yourself," Lu Han said, grinning, but his grin went watery at the edges as he added, "I don't need all that. I love you, so if this is the lame way that you confess, of course I love that too."

Minseok couldn't say anything.

"And besides, I'm not an idiot. It's so obvious that you're totally, totally, completely, one hundred percent devoted to me."

Minseok raised his fist, threatening to hit something, but at the last second found himself cupping Lu Han's cheek instead. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Lu Han could hear it from where their skin touched. Minseok's palm was probably sweating. And yet Lu Han didn't move away, didn't seem to want to, didn't even seem register it in his curly brown head that moving away was an option. He had the face of a man supremely satisfied with life at that moment, wanting nothing more than exactly this, right here.

Minseok must have been a saint in his past life to be allowed to have this. "You are, actually," he scolded. "A really big idiot. You're the one who liked me first."

"Excuse you," scoffed Lu Han. "That makes me a genius. It was one of the best decisions of my life."

And if that wasn't a good reason to kiss him, Minseok didn't know what was.

Baekhyun leans against the doorframe and looks down at Kyungsoo who is curled under a pile of blankets in the corner of the room. There is a whisper of smoke leaking out from under the blankets and Baekhyun sighs.

“You don’t know what’s happening do you?” he asks.

Kyungsoo answers with a deep, rumbling growl. The blankets shift a little but don’t fall away.

“I told you not to go to work today,” says Baekhyun airily. He walks into the room and plops himself down on Kyungsoo’s bare bed. “We can tell when there’s one of us nearby you know? Even if you’ve never… experienced it before.”

The cocoon of blankets fall apart as a large shadow leaps out from it towards Baekhyun. An angry growl escaped Kyungsoo as he pins the man down with a clawed foot, black scales shimmering as his wings flare out behind him, tail lashing agitatedly, hitting against the solid wood bed-frame.

He breathes out smoke on Baekhyun’s face, sharp fangs bared. Baekhyun just laughs, unperturbed by the dragon currently pinning him down.

All he does is pet Kyungsoo lightly on the face and says, “Well, aren’t you a pretty one?”

---

It takes a week for Kyungsoo to learn how to shift between his human and dragon forms comfortably. It’s uncomfortable, with his bones groaning and protesting against the shift the first few times.

“It’s because, you know, you’re kind of… old,” explains Chanyeol. Kyungsoo smacks him in the side of his head with his tail from where he’s perched on top of the couch.

“No, really! We usually start this pretty young. Like my sister and I first shifted when we were in kindergarten. Almost ate our neighbour’s cat too,” says Chanyeol without even wincing even though Kyungsoo’s scales had left a deep gash on his cheek. Kyungsoo had learnt quickly that dragons were quite sturdy. It really did explain how he had gotten out of that car accident without a scratch when his adopted parents had died on the spot.

He huffs and a puff of smoke escapes from his nostrils, which startles him into falling off his perch.

Chanyeol laughs, loud and vibrant, shifting easily into his dragon form when Kyungsoo pounces on him to make him shut up.

---

Kyungsoo’s still pretty small as a dragon. Bigger than a Saint Bernard but smaller than a cow, he supposes as he stares at his reflection in the tall full-body mirror. He tilts his head to the side before uncurling his tail from around his body and spreading his wings out behind him.

Are you checking yourself out? asks Baekhyun who lets himself into Kyungsoo’s room without knocking. He closes the door behind him with a quick flick of his own silver tail. He leaps onto Kyungsoo’s bed. He stretches like a cat before curling up on Kyungsoo’s pillows.

Kyungsoo folds his leathery wings up quickly, pressing them down against his back as he narrows golden eyes at Baekhyun.

Go to sleep in your own room Byun, Kyungsoo hisses as he clambers up on to the bed, less agile than Baekhyun who was used to being scaly and four-legged. He nudges the silver dragon with his head a few times before giving up and flopping down on top of Baekhyun. They fall asleep with their tails tangled.

---

Two years ago when a Byun Baekhyun had appeared on his doorstep, answering to his advertisement for a roommate on the internet, Kyungsoo didn’t imagine that they would, one day down the road, be prowling on rooftops in the middle of the nights together as dragons.

“There’s been a foreign dragon causing trouble in our area,” Joonmyun said over the phone, “There have been people coming in with reports of dog bites but I know a dragon bite when I see one.”

“O… kay?” replied Kyungsoo.

“He was last seen in your part of town,” continued Joonmyun, “I want you guys to smoke him out before he actually kills someone.”

same i'll probs wait til it's all over and then go back

this is the best thing, anon, great job ;;

Kyungsoo wakes up with his limbs hanging off of the bed, which is unusual to say the least.

Upon closer inspection, the ceiling is slightly different and when Kyungsoo blearily runs a hand through his hair in confusion, he jolts awake instantly.

The sides aren’t shaved anymore. His mind races in circles, short circuiting each time it comes to a near logical conclusion. His hair is short and fluffy, his fingers unnervingly long, and oh god, when did his ears-?

Before he can find a mirror or roll back into his covers to sleep it all off someone bursts into the room, startling Jongin awake.

“Fucking hell,” his own face parrots back to him, wide-owl eyes and messy bed-head askew. “Kyungsoo?”

---

It’s Chanyeol.

Of course it’s Chanyeol.

It’s barely Monday morning and Kyungsoo is faced with the realization that Chanyeol who can’t manage his own limbs over half the time is somehow magically now in charge of his own. It’s a bleak reality and Kyungsoo hasn’t even had his morning coffee yet.

“It’s not like I wanted to be short,” Chanyeol huffs in reply when Kyungsoo -using Chanyeol’s superior reach (though he would never admit it)- pulls him out of their shared bedroom and into the bathroom where he can securely lock the door before any of their other members catch wind of the incident.

It’s a sound plan. That is until Chanyeol freaks out at the sight of the mirror, slamming the door shut and waking the entire dorm- manager and all.
Kyungsoo’s own heart (or is it Chanyeol’s now) is pounding, but he pushes the initial panic away.

“Calm down,” Kyungsoo says, flicking the lights off quickly. His voice, no, Chanyeol’s voice sounds scared and it sends a jolt of unwanted realization through his brain. This can’t be happening.

Dinner the night before had been normal. The rice had tasted fine. Before going to bed, Kyungsoo brushed his teeth, flossed even. Everything had been normal.
Everything until now.

“I’m so short,” Chanyeol whispers forlornly in the dark. It makes Kyungsoo think of an echo chamber or some far off dream where everything is dark and his subconscious scolds him for making questionable life choices. He vaguely thinks that this might be a good time for some high class introspection, but then remembers it’s not like Kyungsoo chose to inhabit Chanyeol, and it’s not like he was even that short.

Kyungsoo flicks the light on in the bathroom and groans.

Assuming the mirror in the bathroom didn’t lie on a regular basis, Kyungsoo is somehow now 184cm of obnoxious puppy and roughly 70kg of overt fanservice.

He flicks the lights off and then on again. Chanyeol’s face looks back at him through the mirror, a slow look of panic seizing his features.

“Well…” the Chanyeol beside him starts, voice shaky. His eyes flicker over to Kyungsoo’s reflection, sizing up Kyungsoo’s former body. They don’t stare at each other’s faces, but rather at their respective reflections- half in horror, half in awe. Even past the toothpaste splatters and dust covering the mirror surface, Chanyeol’s confused eyes stare straight back at him.

“Well,” Kyungsoo replies finally and then stops at the sight of Chanyeol’s lips moving in the mirror to his words. He presses up a long, Chanyeol finger against his lips and feels them. They’re thin and slightly chapped from the dry winter- Chanyeol never uses lip balm regularly.

“Well it’s not like I wanted to be…” Kyungsoo trails off, his mind utterly unhelpful in supplying Chanyeol-esque adjectives.

“Handsome?” Chanyeol begins, trying to sound humorous. He sounds borderline hysterical in Kyungsoo’s vocal inflection, “handsome, talented, charming? How about charismatic and tall too-“

“No,” Kyungsoo replies flatly, leaning over to rest Chanyeol’s bony elbows against the cold counter, “just no.”

He takes a deep breath, palms digging into his eye sockets. “I don’t want to be…”
I don’t want to be you. I don’t know why I’m you. In an hour I have rehearsal with Baekhyun and Jongdae, only now I can’t because I’m not me. I’m you. I can’t play guitar. I don’t know your raps. Can you even sing a ballad?

He looks up and sees that Chanyeol has put his hand on his shoulder, giving him a rough shake. The gesture is familiar, but nothing else is.

“Well at least,” Chanyeol says in a small voice Kyungsoo doesn’t recognize as his own, “you’re tall now.”

---

They have approximately half an hour before the rest of the dorm awakes and at least another hour before they have to face their EXO-M counterparts. It’s Kyungsoo’s suggestion to use that time wisely and lay down ground rules.

He sneaks a sheet of paper into the bathroom and relocks the door, only to realize he forgot a pencil. Chanyeol hands him Baekhyun’s eyeliner pencil from last May and Kyungsoo figures it’ll have to do.

He starts by jotting down actions, starting from the obvious rules ruled by common sense. For example, sexually exploiting each other is obviously out of the question. Standard SM dating bans are still in place, as are the regular diets.

Using each other’s bodies to hug and kiss other members in the name of fanservice survives with a green check, despite Kyungsoo’s objections.

“It’s for the fans,” Chanyeol whines, crossing out Kyungsoo’s messy scrawl with one of Zitao’s eyeliner pens that had unfortunately lost its cap last comeback, “it’s part of our job.”

Kyungsoo wants to argue that it’s horrifically intrusive and that technically, they were paid to sing and interact with each other as themselves and not as whatever this counted as, when Chanyeol brings up an even touchier topic.

“Uhh,” Chanyeol says slowly and Kyungsoo can practically taste the beginnings of a bad idea, “what if we have to jerk off?”
Kyungsoo blanches. “We…what?”

“I mean…how often do you?” Chanyeol whispers, a little shy. He makes this ridiculous jerking motion with Kyungsoo’s former hand and does it twice more just in case Kyungsoo didn’t understand the first time. Kyungsoo is past glaring daggers when Chanyeol starts making general motions towards his junk and smacks his hand out of the air.

“I’m not having this discussion,” he scowls, “Just…no. This discussion isn’t starting and we’re not having it. Period.”

Chanyeol refuses to let it drop, yanking the eyeliner out of his fingers. “It’s a valid concern,” he argues, “no really. What do I do if I get hard then? Do I come running to you so you can rub yourself off?”

“This is stupid,” Kyungsoo interrupts.

“So if your penis acts up on me, I’m holding you responsible for getting me off,” Chanyeol smirks, “okay?”

“Please stop talking,” Kyungsoo says coldly and grudgingly accepts the eyeliner from his former fingers. His hand hovers over paper, hesitating when Chanyeol elbows him roughly to take the pen and list out of his fingers. Chanyeol writes down the new amendment with a flourish and smiles back at Kyungsoo who is clutching his side in shock.

“What the fuck?” Kyungsoo asks, voice scathing.

“What,” Chanyeol echoes back, rounding Kyungsoo’s eyes in surprise. “You do this shit to me all the time.”

---

The idea doesn’t sit too comfortably with Kyungsoo who initially was against it all together, but Chanyeol keeps pointing out that he’s not entirely one hundred percent pleased with the situation either.

“Who knows how long I’m gonna be stuck in midget land?” Chanyeol grumbles, sending Kyungsoo’s voice into a whiney pitch that grates against his nerves.

“Don’t do that with my voice,” Kyungsoo growls and it sounds much more intimidating than he means to and even Chanyeol looks up at him in surprise, stretching Kyungsoo’s eyes to their limits.

“Woah,” he says, craning up to grab Kyungsoo’s shoulders, “do that again.”

Thinking that his limbs were still their original length, Kyungsoo pushes him-away only to have Chanyeol’s back hit the door hard. They both wince.

“Why are you punishing me, even when I’m you!” Chanyeol gasps out, highly offended, but not seriously hurt. Kyungsoo pats him(self?) on the head, a consolation of sorts.

“Lastly”, Kyungsoo says, scribbling down the do’s and don’ts chart down on the notepad, “we can’t tell anyone or let anyone know. So just act normal.”
Chanyeol gives him his own signature wide-eyed look, looking Kyungsoo like he’s insane. Kyungsoo is glad he can’t see the mirror from this angle to see his own expression carved on Chanyeol’s features.

“Don’t do things I don’t do,” Kyungsoo puts simply. “We can’t let anyone know, so act like me.”

“Are you kidding me? We’ve got SuKiRa later today,” Chanyeol cackles, and it’s a downright unnerving expression to see from his own face, “I’m gonna milk your cute face for all it’s worth. This is gonna be awesome.”

“You fucker,” Kyungsoo growls as Chanyeol skips down the hall crooning, “Ryeowook-hyung! Wookie-hyung!~”

---

They squeeze into the van in time to avoid suspicion and other than Tao’s complaints about them overusing their bathroom time, the day seems pretty normal.

Managing Chanyeol’s limbs for the dance for Christmas Day is difficult to say the least. Nothing goes where it’s supposed to. After almost sending an elbow into Jongin’s face for the second time, the instructor lets them take a quick break.

He sends an apologetic smile to Jongin before carefully thinking about what Chanyeol would do.

Jongin is sticky and it’s really pretty uncomfortable to be pressing his face against his sweat slick arm.

“Sorry about that, Jonginnie, hyung is terrible at this and being careless” Kyungsoo sighs, a little dramatic because there’s no way he would be able to do it with a straight face. Jongin just stares at him.

“Uhh,” he yawns, “just watch out next time?”

Kyungsoo is a little affronted by how easily he’s brushed off. Jongin had to be half asleep still or something. He doesn’t push it though, plugging in Chanyeol earbuds into…well, Chanyeol’s ears. It’s a strange feeling and Kyungsoo doesn’t remember Chanyeol’s ears being so out and forwards, but the music is a nice form of escapism.

Shaking his head slightly, he steps into the hallway to catch some air and wonders how Chanyeol is faring in vocal practice.

---

The real problem turns out to be on broadcast.

Kyungsoo spends the entirety of Sukira digging his fingernails into his palms and sitting on his hand to prevent himself from leaping across the studio to strangle…himself.

Chanyeol with his bubbly persona, amps it up to eleven just to watch him squirm, and by the fourth time he does his aegyo routine- sitting cutely on Jongin’s lap while professing his love for Baekhyun- Kyungsoo excuses himself to go use the restroom.

“You’re uptight today,” a voice comes from behind him and Kyungsoo glances up to see Baekhyun’s grin in the bathroom mirror. Baekhyun’s gaze is knowing, but Kyungsoo doubts that he has even an inkling of what's going on.

“Just tired,” he grumbles, trying Chanyeol’s air of nonchalance for a change. It comes off as defensive instead.

“Are you jealous or something?” Baekhyun laughs and Kyungsoo thinks of all the bro things and non-murderous actions Chanyeol would take. Act normally. Yes. But would punching Baekhyun’s irritating smirk off his currently irritating face still fall under such a category?

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and remembers that punching Baekhyun as Chanyeol would incite a lot more rumors for abuse and member bullying.

Unclenching his fist, Kyungsoo smiles in a way that looks much less murderous on Chanyeol’s face than his own and pulls Baekhyun with him.

From the studio window, he sees Chanyeol in his body on a much-too-pleased-looking Ryeowook’s lap, bouncing along to the lyrics from Growl. He takes several deep breaths and when that fails, tightens his grip on Baekhyun’s arm.

“You really are jealous aren’t you,” comes the teasing reply and because Baekhyun is half a foot shorter than him today and because Kyungsoo is probably stuck in Chanyeol’s body for god knows how much longer and doesn’t want to run laps in punishment, he laughs instead of punching the daylights out of Baekhyun.

It’s not worth the netizen backlash either.

“How could I not be,” he teases and Baekhyun takes the bait.

“You know,” he starts, “you can’t act worth shit, but your feelings are getting a little too real these days.”

Kyungsoo shoots him what must look like confusion on Chanyeol’s features, because Baekhyun continues.

“Your fanservice dude,” Baekhyun laughs, “tone it down, or half this band might actually think you want in on their pants.”

“My fanservice,” Kyungsoo snaps, “my fanservice? What with Kyungsoo bouncing on Ryeowook’s lap? ”

Baekhyun lets out a low whistle, “well damn, you are jealous.”

---

There are other ways to return the favor besides outright homicide, and Kyungsoo is an expert in doing just that.

Chanyeol in Kyungsoo’s body spends the day in a terrific mood, taking more selcas than Zitao and doing more aegyo than Sehun on the day Diablo III comes out. So to speak, Chanyeol is in a great mood until he walks into the kitchen where Kyungsoo has emptied out something akin to a start-up bakery on the counters.

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol gasps in horror as Kyungsoo stuffs the entirety of the velvet cheesecake slice into his mouth. His taste buds quiver in delight as Chanyeol literally and figuratively wilts.

“I’m treating myself,” Kyungsoo says and the voice that comes out is deep and rich. Seductive and a whole bunch of things that Chanyeol sounds like, but would never sound like.

“Dude,” Chanyeol says, trying to swat the fork out of Kyungsoo’s (his?) hand. “Not cool, I starved for months to get that figure. You know how skinny those skinny jeans are. Stop it.”

Kyungsoo gives him a smirk as Chanyeol gasps out scandalized, “We. Are. Promoting.”

“Baekhyun, Jongdae, and I,” Kyungsoo corrects him, nonchalantly shoving a kiwi flavored tart into his mouth, “you guys only have choreo practice.”

“But I’m front and center for the…” Chanyeol says weakly. Kyungsoo twists around to pat his backside- feeling bone and not much else.

“You don’t even have an ass,” he says flatly, “I’m doing you a favor.”
Chanyeol gawks at him.

“I’ll hit the gym later,” Kyungsoo reassures him, turning away from Chanyeol and raising the plate above his reach- something he never could do before. “I promise.”

“But,” Chanyeol squeaks, and Kyungsoo narrows his eyes at even the possibility such a sound could be emitted from his vocal chords. He’s never squeaked before.

“Not my body,” Kyungsoo shrugs, trying to hide his grin when Chanyeol’s face falls.

“Kyungsoo-yah,” Chanyeol tries again, “love my body like I would love yours-”

Kyungsoo dips his finger in the peanut butter jar in reply. Chanyeol makes a half-effort to slap his hand away, but not before Kyungsoo sticks the finger into his mouth- savouring the smooth melt of peanut butter.

“I’m going to stop washing your face,” Chanyeol grumbles and Kyungsoo laughs with a mouthful and nearly chokes.

---

and then at some point they swap back and:

“Nah,” he laughs as Kyungsoo cranes his neck up to glare at him. It’s a strange sensation after the events that have transpired in the past 48 hours. Kyungsoo rub the back of his neck and the strangeness is suddenly compounded by the suddem pressure of Chanyeol’s lips against his own.

He tastes like mint candy and the same sugary banana milk Kyungsoo had been guzzling down just a minute ago. Sugary and sickly and Chanyeol’s lips feeds it back to him.
It feels a little like déjà vu and Kyungsoo can’t help but think how different Chanyeol’s lips feel pressed up against his own in comparison to his own.

“Have I ever told you that you have a double chin?” Kyungsoo spits out, when they break apart long enough to catch their breaths. “I inspected it very carefully in the time I was you.”

“Not from this angle, I don’t,” Chanyeol replies easily, ducking down to stretch one lanky arm around Kyungsoo. He ropes Kyungsoo under him, squashing him under his weight. Kyungsoo most definitely does not squeak.

“I missed your cute armchair self,” he says and Kyungsoo grumbles something along the lines of “die you fucker,” into his arm. He sends a fist into Chanyeol’s side, listening in satisfaction as the air leaves Chanyeol’s lungs.

“Yeah, and I missed bruising you up without feeling like a masochist,” Kyungsoo says with an impatient smile that drops when Chanyeol doesn’t let him go, even as he slides to the ground in mock defeat.

They tumble onto the ground together, Kyungsoo’s back landing on Chanyeol’s stomach filled with sugary sweets and other carb-rich treats that definitely went against SM diet protocol.

“Mercy,” Chanyeol wheezes out and Kyungsoo finally moves over to kiss him back.

921w

fuck i bottomed whatever don't read this please. also swaps multiplier ty

jesus fuck so this is what it feels like to be crushed by a pile of fanwork

theme: sports, anime
ft. baeksoo!

omg

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part two hundred and twenty one

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