1. SEHUN
"If there's one unspoken rule in these parts, it's that you don't mess with the cheerleaders and their posse," Baekhyun says in low tones. Sehun glances up from his panini with a cocked eyebrow, and Baekhyun continues. "They are terrible people who will chew you to you bits and spit you out if they think you're some lame ass turd with horrible fashion sense."
"They're actually sorta nice, especially the captain. You'd think he'd be a bitch, but no, not really," Minseok interrupts around a mouthful of caesar salad. Sehun notes how miserable he looks eating the measly portion of greens and croutons. "And the vice-captain just spaces out a lot. People mistake that for snobby, though."
"They like you because you look Chinese, don't even try to deny," Baekhyun snaps.
Minseok half-rolls his eyes. "You're just bitter that Lu Han accidentally threw out the chocolates you sent him on Val--"
"Anyway, as I was saying," Baekhyun cuts Minseok off, rather viciously, "don't mess with them. Got it? Good. You also don't mess with Jongin and his Soccer team, Wu Fan and those tall freaks from the Basketball team--"
"In other words, what Baekhyunnie is trying to say is you don't hang out with anyone else who isn't as cool as we are," Chanyeol says, sitting down on the empty space beside Sehun and clapping him on the shoulder.
"I may be a transferee, but I'm not stupid." Sehun shakes his head. "Thanks for the advice... I guess. I'l make sure to watch out for those people."
"They're not as mean as Baekhyun makes them out to be," says Minseok much later, leaning in close to Sehun after Baekhyun and Chanyeol have gone out to their next classes. "Baekhyun just likes to... exaggerate."
"A lot, I assume."
"That's just how he is. Pretty sure you've figured out by now that he and Chanyeol are the most embarrassing members of this little group," Jongdae grunts from above them, a stack of books in one hand. His thick glasses are in danger of completely sliding off the bridge of his nose. "Hey, can any of you help? My left arm is kinda dead at the moment."
Sehun is not exactly talented in many things besides dance and math. He plans to try out for the Streetdance Troupe the week after this one, after he's adjusted to everything. He takes regular freshman classes in every subject except this one: Advanced Calculus, where he's pretty sure he's sitting next to cocky juniors laughing obnoxiously at some tired joke and bored seniors nonchalantly texting under their desks.
It's his first day in this class, so he sits at the back, hoping no one will notice him. His little bubble of personal space breaks abruptly, however, when the guy next to him holds out a hand.
"Hi," he says, bright and cheerful. "You're new, right? I've never seen you around before."
Sehun stares down at the hand for a few seconds before awkwardly shaking it. "Uh, yeah. I'm Oh Sehun."
Sehun sees the wide smile crinkling the other boy's eyes. "Not many seniors get to transfer at this time of year."
"I'm... actually a freshman."
The boys eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry, I hope you weren't offended or anything by me thinking you were a senior. This is an Advanced class, after all."
Sehun shakes his head. "It's fine, I get-- um, what are you doing?"
The boy has leaned forward, taking Sehun's collar and gently tugging it down to rearrange it to his satisfaction, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sehun watches him, heart thumping hard against his ribcage. He doesn't realize it earlier when he's too busy trying not to make an idiot of himself in front of a senior, but this guy is really pretty up close, cheekbones thrown into sharp relief by the harsh overhead lighting, casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. The word beautiful flits across Sehun's mind but he shoves it aside.
"There," the boy says eventually, glancing at Sehun to give him a satisfied smile. "You look cuter now with your collar fixed."
"You fixed my collar," Sehun echoes stupidly. "I don't even know your name."
The boy opens his mouth, but the teacher's booming voice interrupts before any word comes out.
Later, with the teacher's back turned, the boy quietly passes him a note on a torn piece of graphing paper. Sehun's eyebrows almost fly up to his hairline, but the boy just winks coyly, then doesn't look at him for the rest of the period.
I'm Lu Han (◕‿◕✿) Nice to meet you, cutie Oh Sehun（＾ω＾）
Sehun fights to keep the heat in his cheeks from spreading dangerously fast across the rest of his face.
"Dude," Sehun says dazedly the next day at lunch. "Dude. Dude."
"Uh-oh, he looks sick," Minseok says worriedly, fanning Sehun's face. "You alright, kid? Do you need water? Food?"
"He looks high," Chanyeol comments with a sly grin, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. "Sehun, you don't secretly hang out with the stoner kids, right? What did we tell you about hanging out with uncool losers?"
"You're one to talk, seriously," Baekhyun mutters, smiling around his straw.
"I need to go to Advanced Calculus." Sehun swats Minseok's hand away, ignoring Baekhyun's suspicious glare and Chanyeol's mouth dropping open in the most unattractive way possible. "I just met the most amazing person yesterday in that class. I think I'm in love."
"With who?" Jongdae finally asks without looking at Sehun, licking a finger and turning to the next page of his Chemistry book.
"His name is Lu Han."
Baekhyun spits his orange juice right smack into the pages of Jongdae's book; Jongdae's high-pitched scream of horror is drowned out over the sound of Minseok and Chanyeol simultaneously guffawing into their sandwiches.
2. LU HAN
"Because I love you," Yixing says, amusement playing at the edges of his mouth, "I'm going to tell you that you picked the wrong shade of concealer today. Rough night?"
"Fuck off," Lu Han says, letting his forehead rest against the cool metal of his locker. Why did he think it was such a great idea to guzzle jello shots like water and wake up in the morning with a terrible headache and an unclear fuzziness that made it impossible to articulate his sentences properly? Oh, right, because he was a fucking idiot, that's why. "I need a bloody Mary. You don't happen to have some?"
"My poor baby," Yixing coos in that teasing tone he uses whenever he wants Lu Han to slam him up against the wall and either punch him in the face or kiss him silly. "Of course not. I can mix up a glass for you at home, but right now all I have are some painkillers from the team first-aid kit."
"Get me some, please."
"Already here." Yixing is obviously some kind of miracle worker, Lu Han thinks, as he grabs the water bottle and the little white pill from Yixing's outstretched hands. "Want me to fix your hair, too? You really look like shit. Not exactly cheer captain material."
"I look fine. I used the right fucking BBCream, okay," he snaps before chugging the water down. He jerks back as a few drops fall on his pants. "Shit. I need to change--"
"Please, you're being overdramatic." Yixing gently rubs the silver polyester material. "It'll dry in a few minutes. Is this what dating Jongin has done to your sanity?"
Lu Han snorts, walking over the the mirror perched on the wall. "We are not dating. And you're right, my hair does look like shit," he admits begrudgingly, biting his lower lip as he flattens the ends of his hair.
"There's a special type of hell reserved for Single People Who Are Basically In A Relationship But Can't Even Admit It To Their Best Friends." Yixing hands him a brush, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "So just because you do it with him every other day, have movie dates, and remember the last time you had your hair stroked lovingly in the past 36 hours, it doesn't mean you're off the market?"
"Where are you even getting that idea?" Lu Han narrows his eyes at Yixing's reflection. "He doesn't do anything remotely close to 'lovingly stroking' my hair."
"But you still have sex with him."
"Yeah. So? Are you telling me that I should be saturated with emotion while banging Jongin?"
"All I'm saying is if you fuck the guy regularly, I don't know why you guys are so insistent on this no-labels thing--"
"Because there is no label to speak of. And stop looking at me like that, it's not my fault he looked so hot... with jello shots liberally sprinkled all over that tanned chest... okay, maybe I do deserve to be judged. A little."
"You're so beautiful, but so sad," Yixing sighs dramatically. "I'm not gonna lie, Lu Han. I think you're gonna stick your head in an oven one day if you keep this up."
"I'm gonna stick my head in a pizza oven so I can fit your head in with mine," Lu Han says sweetly, and Yixing laughs. "Come on, we still have to fix the routine."
"You sure you're gonna be okay? I can take over for today if your hangover is that bad."
"Work is work," Lu Han says softly, massaging his scalp. "There's a jackhammer drilling into my head right now, yeah, but we have to get this done by the end of the week. Can't let any time go to waste."
"Alright." Yixing gently turns Lu Han around and kisses the corner of his lips. "Don't forget to smile, okay?"
3. CHANYEOL
"I've made up my mind," Chanyeol says, plopping down next to Baekhyun on the bleachers and slinging a lanky arm around his friend's shoulders. "Wu Fan is going to be my date to the Spring Fling."
Baekhyun face approximates how it would look like if a large bug were to fly in his face as he yanks his earbuds out and turns his ipod off. "So he actually said yes? To you?" He gestures to Chanyeol's ugly sweatshirt with I LOVE KIMCHI emblazoned right smack in the middle, wrinkling his nose as his gaze flies up to Chanyeol's poofy hair. "I thought he was dating that spacey cheerleader."
Chanyeol's huge grin turns sheepish. "No. Heard from Kyungsoo that Yixing's been sending feelers, though. And, uh, I actually haven't asked him out yet. But get this: I talked to him once in English class. I didn't get half the English he said, but it was still the best ten seconds of my life, to be honest."
Baekhyun laughs loud and long. "So you think you actually stand a chance against Yixing? The Zhang Yixing, vice-captain of the cheerleading squad? Let's see." He holds out a hand and starts ticking out traits. "He doesn't have the dead animal you call hair sitting on top of his head; he can dance, and let's be serious you just flop around like a giraffe in freaking DDR; oh, and did I mention he has the stars in his eyes and the moon at his feet because he's just too pretty?"
"Excuse me, I'm beautiful, too!" Chanyeol huffs. "And I don't need a fuckton of BB Cream to be beautiful, just saying."
"Doubt it, that must be natural. He and Lu Han used to host this web show last year, right?" Baekhyun says absently, fiddling with his ipod again. "They said they only used cucumber juice or some fruity shit. And you know what? Their skin glowed like they sprinkled fucking fairy dust on it. That can't be just BB cream."
"... You actually watched that?" Chanyeol side-eyes Baekhyun for watching the old Quell your Queen Thirst with Lu Han and Yixing. He tried watching it once, but he probably chanced upon a really boring episode as it only had Lu Han discussing the best Hello Kitty dolls out in the market at the moment. "I'm judging you so hard right now."
"They made out, okay! You won't understand until you actually see the beauty of two guy cheerleaders in skirts making out. Now shut up, I'm trying to see where Zitao--"
"Prince of darkness--"
"Where Zitao is."
"He's in the same place he always is - trapped in an invisible glass case of feelings by the ball crate."
"He's misunderstood, it's not the same thing."
"Whatever, just help me get Wu Fan!"
"Are you retarded or something?" Baekhyun turns to him, looking no less miffed than he did a few minutes ago. "Haven't you been listening? You don't stand a chance against hot, dumb cheerleader Yixing!"
"Well, what if I prove to Wu Fan that I'm as adorable and charming and hot as Yixing? Can't be too hard. You fell for my charms, right? Right?" Chanyeol elbows Baekhyun's mid-section, ignoring Baekhyun's yelps. "Riiiiight?"
"Ow, yeah, okay. Charms, right. If you're so desperate you can ask him to tutor you in English or something. Or apply to be the basketball team's waterboy."
"Those are great ideas!" Chanyeol shoots up from his seat, pumping his fist in the air. "I'm going to approach him right now and ask him to tutor me and then sign up as waterboy!"
"You're pathetic," Baekhyun says, craning his head to look further forward. "Hey, is that really Zitao? He's wearing pastel today, I can't be too sure. Oh my god, he is!"
4. JOONMYEON
Sometimes, Joonmyeon wishes he were asexual, someone who can live in a binary world in which there are no ones, and especially no plus ones, making him the ideal guest in all weddings on a budget. He wishes he could sit in a chair and surf the net for ninety hours a week and find it super fulfilling in ways human interaction can't match.
Then he sees Kim Jongin kick the ball towards the goal, and he remembers that oh yeah, the key word there is wishes.
"Face it, you're less of an Asexual and more of a Forever Alone type," Kyungsoo says, back hunched over whatever stew he's concocting for that day's Young Male Chefs Association's meeting (or the YMCA, as Joonmyeon liked to remind Kyungsoo). "You crave companionship. You'd sell your soul for it. Ew, lord almighty, this needs more butter. Can you hand me the stick by the pans over there?"
Joonmyeon drags himself up and walks over to the pans. "I just don't know why I can't let go of this stupid crush, you know. It's literally--"
"The worst thing since that giant zit that won't go away for weeks blah blah. Hurry up with the butter, please."
Joonmyeon hands the butter over and Kyungsoo grunts his thanks. He flops back down on his seat despondently. "I really don't stand a chance against Lu Han, do I?"
"Don't you think you should be way past the mentality of a thirteen-year-old girl by now?"
"I'm serious," he says miserably, running a hand through his hair. "Lu Han is perfect. Head cheerleader, A+ student, gives ulzzhangs a run for their money. And I'm--"
"What?" Kyungsoo takes a loud sip from the ladle and makes a pleased noise. "Not perfect? He isn't either, you know."
"Oh yeah? Think of one flaw. One."
"He has giant pores." Kyungsoo puts the ladle back in the pan, appearing deep in thought. "No, wait. He actually doesn't since he started using that BBCream SHINee advertises. How about..." He snaps his fingers and smiles like a lightbulb just passed over his head. "His T-Zone gets really oily and sweaty after cheer practice. That's pretty gross if you ask me."
Joonmyeon groans and buries his face in his arms.
"What? He looks like a melting wax doll two hours after practice!"
"But still a doll."
"I've got it!" Kyungsoo exclaims, eyes glinting with triumph. "He has a scar on his lower lip. Not a grotesque scar, but it's there."
"... How can it be grotesque when I don't even know he has one in the first place? And how do you know these things?" Joonmyeon mentally notes never to piss Kyungsoo off - who knows what little things Kyungsoo had observed about him can be used for blackmail material one day?
"I saw it one time while I was looking at the photos on the school website." Kyungsoo shrugs, turning the faucet on and letting cool water fall on his hands. "In ninety-five percent of his pictures, it's barely noticeable. But you see it in close-ups. I thought it was bad photoshop or Lu Han messing up his make-up at first, but it really exists. Probably a cheerleading-related injury. Maybe he fell on his face after he was dropped from one of those pyramids."
For the life of him, Joonmyeon can't imagine graceful, pretty Lu Han hitting his face on hard concrete. "I never even knew. Why doesn't he get plastic surgery to fix it?"
Kyungsoo hums thoughtfully. "Maybe after graduation. Maybe he doesn't see it as a facial deformity. Battle scars can be sexy, you know? Anyway, you have to be staring at his face in high-resolution to catch it. Or kiss him." His smile turns a wee bit sly. "Would you like to kiss him, see what the hype is all about?"
Joonmyeon grimaces and doesn't bother hiding it. "No, thanks."
"Well, there you have it. Not a flawless porcelain doll, proven thanks to yours truly. I should suggest this as lead for the next school bulletin."
"I was kinda hoping for a more substantial flaw."
"Like what? That he's a bitch? A slut?" Kyungsoo skeptically tilts his head from one side to the other. "You know those rumors already. They're unconfirmed, but you can use it to your advantage."
"... I shouldn't be obsessing over someone else's flaws."
"Better than obsessing over your own."
"You're not helping," he deadpans, shooting Kyungsoo a weary look, then sighs deeply. "I don't know what to do. Sitting behind Jongin and watching all his games just isn't cutting it anymore."
"Yeah, creeping on Jongin isn't working well for you or any one of his fans, is it."
"Don't remind me." He closes his eyes, feeling the frustration ball up in the pit of his stomach. He needed to get over this or it was going to do nasty things to his academic standing, not to mention his life in general.
"Hey," Kyungsoo says after a few minutes of silence, the only sound being the slow boil of vegetables and meat, "I just joined the Fashion Afficionados Group last week. We're looking for volunteers for the hairstyling workshop. Maybe a makeover can make you feel better?"
Joonmyeon forces a small smile for Kyungsoo. At this point, he'd try anything, really. "Yeah, sure. Where do I sign up?"
Kyungsoo beams at him. "Great! I'll do my absolute best and you'll look fantastic, I promise."
"... Wait. You're gonna be working on me?" God help him. He really didn't want to look like some drugged out punk or whatever Kyungsoo's idea of 'hairstyling' was.
"Who else? I was recently promoted to deputy head hairstylist." Kyungsoo puffs his apron-covered chest out proudly. "I can work wonders with my hands on anyone's hair. Just like with my cooking. Here, say aaah, hyung."
The day after Kyungsoo gives him a haircut and tells him to wear a certain combination of clothes to school (an H&M shirt; tight, ripped jeans; leather jacket - seriously, this was killing him with the heat, what was Kyungsoo thinking), he walks into the hallway and everyone is staring at him.
He remembers Kyungsoo's advice as he snipped away at his fringe: "When someone flirts with you, flirt back. Because they will, trust me. Don't let these potential soulmates slip through your fingertips. They're right there waiting for you, but they'll only wait for so long."
"Hey, sexy," that one cheerleader - Yixing, if he remembers correctly - purrs at him. "I don't think I've seen the likes of you around here before."
Joonmyeon's greatest rival a.k.a. Lu Han walks up to them. "Yixing, if you only came back to earth long enough to notice the people in your Philosophy elective, that's just Joonmyeon." He gives Joonmyeon an appreciative once-over. Joonmyeon gulps - he'd tried to give Lu Han the mental evaluation of 'queen bitch', but actually, Lu Han was a pleasant guy if you weren't on his bad side.
"You look very nice today, Joonmyeon-ah," Lu Han says, smiling brilliantly.
"T-thanks," he stutters.
"I'll say," a deeper voice says behind him, and he turns around and it's Kim Jongin dressed in stylish clothes that make him feel like he's wearing a trashbag, rakish grin playing on his thick lips. "If you'll excuse us, Lu Han, Yixing. I'd like to talk to this hottie for a minute."
Joonmyeon nervously turns to Lu Han, whose mouth is stretched in a strange, big smile; he sees the scar Kyungsoo was going on about, but it's not as distracting as the white of Lu Han's straight row of teeth. Yixing already looks bored, inspecting his perfectly manicured cuticles. Joonmyeon really doesn't know what to make of all this.
"Sure, take all the time you need," says Lu Han, waving as he pulls on Yixing's arm and drags him away.
"Hi," he begins, turning to Jongin, staring intently at the bridge of his nose. Anything to avoid eye contact. "I'm--"
"I know who you are." Jongin leans in close. "You sit behind me in Lit, right? You're pretty quiet. That's too bad. I didn't know you sound this... good."
Joonmyeon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
Jongin chuckles. "Sit with me today at lunch."
5. ZITAO
Zitao ignores the pull in his gut that reminds him this sort of thing is a really bad idea, and opens his mouth.
"If there were a dictionary dedicated to all the subtle nuances and variations of love, perhaps I wouldn't feel so conflicted when I look at you. In these loud moments, between the time you grab the ball and dribble it with one large, manly hand and shoot towards that basket, I realize how much I..."
"Speak up, I can't hear you," Wu Fan says, as loud as he can over the noise of the coach's incessant whistling and the squeaking of multiple balls on the court all at once. "Zitao, if you keep on eating your words like that, I'll never understand anything you say."
Zitao stops mumbling, eyelids drooping. "Nevermind, ge. Sorry for taking up your time."
"Wu Fan, get your ass over here!" the coach screams. Zitao winces, shrinking back as if the coach is going to dive in and kick him out of the gym any second.
Wu Fan casts a glance over his shoulder, then turns back to Zitao looking slightly peeved as he gives a slight shake of head. "It's fine. We'll talk later. Or tomorrow in class? I still have your panda eraser."
Zitao is already halfway out the door before Wu Fan can yell after him.
"Why can't there be a Wushu club in that godforsaken school? And no, I don't want to join the hapkido club. Baekhyun keeps staring at me. I don't know what his problem is," he complains to Minseok as they're walking home. They share a small studio apartment two blocks from the school because Zitao's family can't exactly afford to get him a nice condominium with a decent heater, and Minseok just likes to live away from home.
"Poetry club?" Minseok suggests. "Not sure if your hashtag-dark blog posts are the type of poetry they're looking for, though."
Zitao looks at Minseok disparagingly, hoping his unspoken what the fuck could be telepathically communicated.
"You can join Kyungsoo in that Fashion Afficionados Group. Don't you like all those hoity-toity designer brands? Gauche? Kyle Luggerhead? You'd totally relate and stuff."
"It's Gucci and Karl Lagerfeld, and no, I don't want to volunteer my hair as guinea pig." He shivers at the thought of anyone that isn't his regular hairdresser touching his hair, even if he liked Kyungsoo. Not in a million years' worth of Prada bags would that be an option.
"You could try gymnastics. You'd be good at the pole-vault. Or cheerleading. They're holding try-outs next week."
"I'm more than mildly doubtful about the athletic legitimacy of cheerleading," Zitao scoffs, his black Converse scuffing the concrete harshly. "And just because the captains are Chinese doesn't mean they'll be so accepting."
Minseok sighs tiredly. "I'm trying to tell you, they're okay people. Lu Han helps me a lot in Chinese translation."
"He probably wants to get in your pants."
"Zitao," Minseok scolds, and Minseok usually calls him peaches, but apparently not when he's displeased. "You're better than that."
"Sorry," he mutters, suddenly feeling acute shame. He's never given much credence to rumors, and he isn't going to start now just because he's feeling petty. "I guess you're right. Yixing helped me up when I tripped once."
"See? Not that bad."
"And then he said I could use some under-eye concealer because dark circles were a shame on such a handsome face. What gives?"
Minseok giggle-snorts, patting his back consolingly. "You do look like you don't sleep sometimes."
"Hyung!" he whines, petulant. "It's bad enough that you think I have a gum shrine of Wu Fan in my closet, now you're telling me I look like a raccoon, too?"
"I was kidding that one time!" Minseok puts his hands up in defense. "Unless you really are that obsessed and you're just great at hiding it. Promise not to kill me in my sleep if I give you a backrub after dinner?"
Zitao grins. "No need for any slaughter on my end. What's the point of living if all you can eat now is lettuce and tomato salad?"
When Minseok squawks about getting his fair share of leftover steak, it's Zitao's turn to laugh. Ah, sweet revenge.
Why is he trying out for the cheerleading squad again, Zitao asks himself as he bends a leg upward behind his body until his toes are close to the back of his head, in a position resembling a perfect scorpion's tail. How did he even get the idea that being a cheerleader would bag him a date with stupid Wu Fan and his stupid slanted eyebrows and that stupid angry mouth. Wu Fan isn't even that good-looking. Maybe his taste has deteriorated over the years. Not that he'd been particularly attracted to other people when he was in middle school or anything, but why Wu Fan? Why?
It has something to do with Minseok and perfecting the art of persuasion via cuteness that no senior of his age should have the right to possess. Damnit.
He holds the position for an abnormally long time; his knees start to tremble from the effort. Lu Han studies him from his seat behind a long table, expression carefully blank. Finally, he nods and motions for Zitao to steady himself. "Good, that scorpion was in perfect form. Ready to do harder stunts?"
Zitao slowly brings his foot down, exhaling in small breaths.
Lu Han doesn't wait for him to catch his breath. "Please perform a triple back handspring," he commands in dulcet tones.
"Then back tuck and front tuck," Yixing pipes up, not even sparing a glance at Zitao as he scribbles furiously on a bright piece of yellow paper stuck to a clipboard. "Add a cartwheel. Maybe two."
Zitao stares at them both for a moment. He sees how the captain and his right hand are both incredibly beautiful, smooth skin fitting snugly against lithe bodies; sitting there without a care in the world. They probably got everything - and everyone - they wanted.
Zitao wants that, too.
"Waiting for a natural disaster, perhaps, little peach?" Lu Han remarks, a slight grin pulling up the corner of his cherry-stained lips. "Getting easily swayed by distraction does not equal dedication."
Yixing raises an eyebrow. "You should've gotten rid of me ages ago if that was the case."
Lu Han slaps Yixing on the shoulder. "Sshh, getting distracted over hot guys is different."
Zitao keeps from rolling his eyes, and instead performs all the instructed stunts perfectly. When he's back on his feet, Yixing has stopped scribbling and Lu Han's large eyes betray his attempt at a poker face. A long stretch of eerie silence passes, and then:
"I think we've found our next captain," Yixing says in quiet awe.
Zitao decides he must be hearing things. "Um, when will the try-out results be posted?"
Lu Han's smile reaches up to his eyes, wide and genuine. "You're in. Welcome to the squad."
6. JONGDAE
Jongdae likes the solitude in being the rational, level-headed one. Always designated driver, never the one puking into a gutter on the sidewalk. He's never one to walk out of a club with a prospective hook-up on one arm, nor be the one to pass notes to the latest pretty face to walk down the hallway. Not many things faze him, especially not his friends' constant teasing of the supposed non-existence of a romantic or sexual life.
He sits at his usual spot in the library, books neatly arranged in neat piles around him. Those he had finished, on the right; those still needing another read-through on the left; notebook in the middle. His research is time-consuming, but often interesting, and provides a welcome distraction from the chaos that is his gaggle of crazy friends.
He doesn't count for a new yet familiar form of distraction. The chair pulled out beside him scrapes noisily on the floor; the librarian shushes the offender with a glare and a stern wag of finger.
"What are you doing here, Yixing," Jongdae says, more a statement than a question. He hasn't even gone beyond a sentence and his throat already feels dry.
"Jongdae-ah, don't be like that. Can't friends visit friends?" He smiles tentatively, like he's almost certain this is the sort of thing Jongdae is interested in hearing, and he's ready to turn his smile apologetic if something goes wrong.
"We're not friends." Jongdae looks Yixing sharp in the eye. "Aren't you embarrassed to be seen with me? What if your little jock friends caught wind of this? What if Lu Han--"
"Lu Han doesn't care," he immediately protests, and Jongdae mentally scoffs at the defensive fire in Yixing's eyes. There were rumors about Lu Han and Yixing after their infamous 'kissing video' went viral last year, but Yixing denies time and time again that he and Lu Han are anything more than best-friends-and-maybe-occasional-makeout-buddies. "And what jocks? I'm not close to any of them except Wu Fan-ge."
"Exactly. I'm not looking to be beaten up anytime soon." Jongdae rams a worn-out recycled bookmark in between the pages and slams it shut. He should be moving on to the next book right about now. "You should go."
"But I..."
"It's 1:25," he interrupts, sitting back and fixing Yixing with a look over his thick-rimmed glasses. "You'll be marked absent in history class if you don't go in a minute."
Yixing's smile bolsters, unexpectedly. "You still know my sched."
"It's not that hard to memorize," he mumbles, feeling a little self-conscious. The memory of him texting Yixing with are you awake yet, you have class at 8am (and the subsequent reply of aw my personal alarm clock ♡ ) is more than unwanted, and he shakes his head to clear his mind. Those days are long over.
Yixing laughs a little, a soft breath, and says, "For you it's never hard." The look on his face is faraway, distant like he's daydreaming. "I always forget things."
It's true that he's never had difficulty memorizing anything: long passages, rows of formulas, lyrics to obscure ballads. He's also never found it difficult to memorize their moments together, shy kisses and even shyer touches, hidden glances and Saturday afternoons stolen away together, or sneaking out of their last period so they can hide away in little parks and hold hands on abandoned swing sets, so they can kiss under the orange sky.
Jongdae has memorized how one boring afternoon, with nothing to read (Jongdae) and too much exhaustion flooding bone and muscle (Yixing), he convinces Yixing to shoot a music video to the tune of his Yixing's acoustic guitar and his voice. Yixing has always been the star of everything. He's too good in Jongdae's eyes that he includes even the blurry shot that look like ghosts flitting down the edges of a frame. Yixing forgets the lyrics half the time, but he's so lovely that Jongdae keeps even the long, awkward pauses between words.
Jongdae knows all the names of the boys on Yixing's squad, who is in which position and who Yixing thinks needs improvement and who he likes. He knows how Yixing slaps Lu Han's thighs on cue, how he laughs loudly in Wu Fan's presence. He knows he's kissed them both, too many times for Jongdae to keep track of anymore, and their past serves as a marker for what he has to live up to.
He fights the nostalgia, finding understated comfort in the fact that there's so much space between them than ever before, and says again, "You should go."
"Come visit me later?"
Jongdae tries not to get too distracted by the warm red of Yixing's slightly half-open mouth. He wonders if Yixing is perpetually incapable of closing it; it's always halfway frozen in a small 'o' even when he's dozing off on Jongdae's shoulder or stretching his body underneath Jongdae's hands and teeth and tongue.
Yixing's warm fingers close around his wrist. "Please? I miss you."
Jongdae stares at Yixing's fingernails for a moment. He turns his gaze away, but doesn't break free from Yixing's hold.
"I'll think about it."
Long after Yixing has gone, Chanyeol sits next to him, apparently hiding in the shelves for the last minute of their conversation. He's proud to go all ninja assassin on them; Jongdae doesn't tell him he looks more like a giraffe poking its long neck out from the bushes.
"Woah," he says, and his smile is too big for his face. "Yixing was totally putting the moves on you. Do thine eyes deceive me?" His grin turns knowing and mischievous as he pokes Jongdae's upper arm. "Is our little Jongdae finally been getting some ass? Breaking up with your long-term girlfriend Organic Chemistry 16th edition?"
Jongdae massages his temples, the muscles behind his eyes twitching. He's gotten ass a long time ago, not that Chanyeol is in any position to know. Jongdae would rather keep some secrets to himself.
7. BAEKHYUN
"He is, like, the most attractive person I've ever seen." Sehun sighs in a disgustingly dreamy way, resting his chin on his upturned palm. "How is he real. Isn't he so unreal, hyung?"
"You always address the important issues," Baekhyun deadpans, too busy trying to keep his eyes from permanently rolling into the back of his head. "Why am I even here. There are literally zero interesting people on the court."
So much for his first impression of Sehun those few weeks ago - he honestly thought Sehun's face was punched in middle school and remained stuck in a depressed glare that signaled everyone in his immediate vicinity to quickly move away. The first time he met Sehun he honestly thought the kid had some kind of crude oil well of loathing filling the deepest depths of his empty husk of a heart.
Okay, Sehun still looks angry half the time, but now it's randomly interjected with sighs of adulation that just looks weird on his face. And if it used to be that Sehun would show some form of wit and crack a biting remark back at him, now he doesn't even bother gracing him with a coherently formed reply; he only makes moony eyes off at the distance. Baekhyun doesn't need to follow his gaze to know who he's looking at.
Now Sehun is just one of the many lovestruck shmucks vying for Lu Han's attention. Poor kid.
"To be fair, you didn't sound this stupid the last time I was here with you," Baekhyun muses out loud. "Its like your levels of delusion suddenly upped by 120%. Did Lu Han throw you a bone today in Calculus?"
"Mmm," Sehun murmurs, and Baekhyun knows his mind is already camping out on some faraway planet where he and Lu Han are married with 2.5 kids and living in a house with a white picket fence. Honestly, what a child.
"Piece of advice, kid," Baekhyun says, leaning in close because he wants to be a good friend and he feels a semblance of pity for Sehun, "if you want Lu Han to really notice you, you should ease up on that default facial expression of yours. Lift those eyebrows and open your eyes wider. Put on some liner. Trust me, it'll make you look less like your levels of antisocial toxicity are at Hulk level."
"That was gamma radiation." Trust Sehun to snap out of a reverie with only the most useless comeback ever. "And hyung, if you didn't know, I already--"
"Oh my god. Oh my god!"
"What's happening?" Sehun's back goes straight as he frantically looks around the gym. "Is there a fire or something?"
"No, look!" he hisses, grabbing Sehun's forearm in a death grip. "It's Zitao! He's wearing the cheerleader uniform!"
"Oh, Zitao." Sehun actually relaxes, the nerve of this brat. "Yeah, I heard he's a cheerleader now. He got in right after try-outs and they didn't even need to post his name."
"You heard?"
Sehun gives him his trademark are you fucking kidding me look. "It was all over Daily Fruitcake last week. You didn't check? And besides, Lu--"
"Shit, they're doing that initiation thing where new cheerleaders have to dance to girl group songs," he sputters, eyes wide as the familiar first few chords of Shanghai Romance begin playing. "Are you seeing this? Oh my god, get your phone, quick! You're on 4s, right?"
"Hyung, it'll probably be posted on Fruitcake later--"
"Stop talking." Sehun opens his mouth, and he holds up a hand, making a zipping motion near Sehun's lips and ignoring the incredulous expression that follows.
Damn, did Zitao have a banging body. It was usually hidden with baggy black sweaters and ill-fitting jeans, but now that he was no doubt forced into wearing the tight silver pants along with the equally fitted blue and white training shirt, Baekhyun suddenly finds new appreciation for all the ways muscles could roll and clench and slide against skin. His face also looked brighter today, his hair spiked up in the front and emphasizing the feline-esque liner drawn on his eyelids.
"He looks good," Sehun says.
"Are you blind? He looks gorgeous."
"O-kay," Sehun says, slow and thick with taunting as he inches away from him. "Whatever you say, hyung."
"You have no right to look at me like that," Baekyun says, eyes flashing as he jabs an accusing finger at Sehun's chest. "Pot calling the kettle black, you ungrateful brat. I accompany you to all your stupid little peeping trips to the gym and this is what I--"
"Zitao's doing Mr. Taxi now."
He whips his head to the front and sure enough, Zitao is doing the honking horns move, looking for all the world like a cute animal just died in front of him.
"More enthusiasm!" Lu Han yells, a hand on his hip as he taps his foot to the beat. Beside him, Yixing's arms are crossed, watching Zitao make an ass of himself with an expression wavering between disinterested and amused. "I'm not seeing your cheer face, little peach! Don't make me wait another century for it!"
"You're doing So Nyuh Shi Dae a disservice with that awful frown. Shame. And to think you're so handsome, too," Yixing says, less loudly than Lu Han but enough for the sound to ricochet around the gym. Baekhyun is a little surprised by how fierce his voice can actually get.
"And for god's sake, use some concealer, will you? No cheerleader should look like a psycho murderer," Lu Han adds, and even all the way from the bleachers the coldness in his tone is apparent. Baekhyun feels Sehun tense slightly beside him, probably surprised that Lu Han actually can be this bitchy.
As much as Baekhyun would love to shatter Sehun's dream of a perfect Lu Han, he couldn't help himself when he says, "That's part of the initiation process. They do that to all the new cheerleaders."
Sehun nods, frown slowly easing back into a neutral line. Across them, the music stops and Zitao's chest puffs out in huge breaths.
Lu Han waves a hand dismissively then turns to the rest of the squad who are gathered in a semi-circle behind Lu Han and Yixing. "Everyone do your stretches. We'll start in twenty minutes. No snack breaks," he says in warning, looking pointedly at Yixing, who puts both hands up in defense.
"As for you," he says to Zitao as the rest of the squad spread out on the floor, and his voice goes soft as he gestures to Zitao and Yixing in turn. Baekhyun can't make out any of it.
"Why do you look so worried?" Sehun says beside him. "I thought you said this was all part of the process."
"It is."
"Then what's the big deal?"
"Don't you have some more ogling to do?"
|
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dustheap
