Office Antics, Episode 6
Title ffice Antics, Episode 6
Rating G-13
Word Count 7264
Pairing Baekyeol, Kaisoo, Hunhan
Summary office!au] Twelve guys and one software startup.
prologue
Episode 6: Happy(?) Holidays
| seriously serious |
Holiday break for Jongin was, and is, a cursed blessing. There was a time, prior to high school, where it was an incredible, unfettered 14-day stretch of pure vacation. Then, there was high school, where the first half constituted of worrying about post-final grades and the second half was devoted towards preparing for second semester.
Then there was senior year, which topped off break with a nice icing of college apps. At least this year, Jongin had a job he really liked, which helped keep his mind of things.
“Hey Jongin.”
Of course, Sehun did too.
Jongin pauses mid-keystroke and peers up to see Sehun perched with his elbows over the divider and a (stupid) grin plastered over his face. Jongin then glances down at the clock in the corner of his monitor (it’s 5:30), and promptly decides the seconds he could give to Sehun would be infinitely better afforded towards his work.
Plainly ignoring Sehun, Jongin resumes typing.
“Heeeeey Jongin.”
Staring at Sehun, Jongin takes a page out of Tao’s book and inches a hand towards his headphones, sliding them over his ears with a clean snap. He then looks back at his screen and resumes typing.
“Wow, you suck. Seriously, hey Jongin,” Sehun sounds a little more than peeved.
“Shh.” Jongin raises a finger to his lips.
“Shh?” Sehun frowns. “Huh? I’m not even being loud.”
“Mhmm,” Jongin hums.
“I don’t get it.”
“Shh, because,” Jongin leans towards Sehun and whispers loudly, “This is to help me ignore you.”
“Wow fuck you.”
“Shh,” Jongin shushes again.
“Whatever,” Sehun rolls his eyes. “Anyway...hey Jongin.”
In response, Jongin types more wildly, the volume of the clacking keys rising with every pounding stroke.
“Hey JONGIN,” Sehun raises his voice.
“Okay, I fucking give in,” Jongin gives in, swiveling to face Sehun. “What.”
“Who’s your Secret Santa person?”
Jongin stares at Sehun.
“So, who is it?”
“That’s all you wanted to ask?”
“Uhhh,” Sehun looks up at the ceiling. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Jongin pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Uhhh...nope.”
“Seriously?” Jongin scoots his chair out into the passageway. “Luhan...seriously?”
Luhan turns around expressionlessly, “Seriously. And don’t let him back in here until Monday. Unless you feel like debugging his code for 3 hours.”
“See?” Sehun smirks.
“Well yeah,” Jongin frowns. “But that’s not exactly something to be proud of.”
“Whatever,” Sehun waves Jongin off. “But seriously, who’s your Secret Santa recipient?”
“If I say Luhan, will you leave me alone?”
“Wait, keep it down,” Sehun drops the volume of his voice down and motions for Jongin to do the same before quickly twisting around and checking to see if said-Luhan had heard. After a moment Sehun turns back around and whispers, “Are you being serious?”
“I don’t know,” Jongin raises his eyebrows. “Am I?”
“I need to know.”
“Against the rules of the game, man,” Jongin resumes typing. “You gotta play by the rules.”
“I’m not joking around.”
Jongin looks up and sees a serious Sehun, a strange glint in his eye.
“What’s in it for me?” Jongin scratches his neck.
“I’ll tell you who I have.”
“Hm...Not really interested,” Jongin turns back to his monitor.
“No,” Sehun says slowly, slipping out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’m sure you’re very interested.”
Jongin recognizes the slip of paper from the (strange) ceremony an hour earlier, the one where Junmyeon had ushered everyone into conference room, declared a company-wide game of Secret Santa in the name of team bonding, produced a cheap Santa hat, and had everyone draw names. The exchange day was the day of their holiday party, Junmyeon announced with flourish, and instructed, per usual rules, not to reveal one’s recipient.
“Very, very interested,” Sehun smirks, raising an eyebrow and nodding in the direction of Kyungsoo’s unoccupied chair.
Jongin curses inwardly. For whatever Sehun lacked in a various number of things (tact, enthusiasm, skill, etc.), he maintained an uncanny perceptive ability. Specifically when it came to all things Jongin-related. He was the first, and from what Jongin knew, the only of his same-aged friends to pick up on Jongin’s thing for Kyungsoo.
~•~
Hey, earth to Jongin.
Huh? A sophomore Jongin snapped out of his trance, and looked up from his bench at their high school to see a waving Sehun, a few inches away from his face.
What were you staring at? Sehun bent his head and angled it in the same direction as Jongin.
Nothing. Jongin turned away.
Hey that’s a senior…Do Kyungsoo right? Sehun pointed, looking back at Jongin.
Yeah. Jongin avoided Sehun’s eyes; he really didn’t want him to know.
Wasn’t he your neighbor?
Used to be.
You should go say hi, Sehun cupped his hands around his mouth. HEY KYUNG-
Jongin swiftly muffled Sehun with a slapped hand over his mouth, hissing, shut the fuck up.
Why? Sehun squirmed under Jongin’s grasp.
But Jongin was a little too late, and Kyungsoo looked up and spotted Jongin instantly.
Hey Jongin, Kyungsoo waved cheerfully. How’s it going?
Good, Jongin dropped Sehun unceremoniously and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to neaten it. How are you doing?
Pretty good, I have get going though, Kyungsoo held up his keys. I’ll catch you later.
Yeah…see you around, Jongin held up a hand, slowly lowering it as Kyungsoo’s back receded into the parking lot.
What was that, Sehun snorted behind Jongin.
Nothing, Jongin turned around and glared at Sehun.
Nothing? Sehun raised a brow then slowly smirked, Oh I get it.
No you don’t, Jongin quickly grabbed his backpack.
Heh, Sehun sauntered towards the parking lot. He’s attractive. I’ll give you that.
Fucking shut up, Jongin glared, pulling out his keys.
How are you doing, Sehun mimics Jongin in a falsetto, I have never seen you so fucking…polite.
Whatever, Jongin pops the door to his car open and slides in. If you keep going, I’m going to drive off and leave you here.
Okay, okay, Sehun throws his backpack into the backseat and climbs into the front, bending down to tie his shoelaces.
Good.
See you later, Sehun suddenly mimicked, in falsetto and fluttering eyelashes.
Jongin swiftly reached over and pulled a lever, and the back of the chair swung down hard, effectively pinning Sehun.
Holy fuck you asshole, Sehun squirmed.
I like this arrangement actually, Jongin started the engine and twisted around, checking his blind spots, before pulling out into the parking lot.
Augh you suck, Sehun reached around for the lever. I’m going to tell Kyungsoo that you’re an asshole.
As if.
~•~
“See we can make a deal. Provided you have what I want,” Sehun shakes the slip. “And this is what you want-which, it is-then I could...well you know...”
“I don’t get it.”
“Propose a trade,” Sehun grins, letting the hand with the slip of paper dangle over the divider.
“Hmm,” Jongin slides an identical folded slip of paper out of his pocket and frowns at it. Then after a moment, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Sure, why not.”
“Hell yeah,” Sehun fist pumps and holds out the slip of paper.
“Oh,” Jongin deposits his slip into Sehun’s extended palm as he takes the slip from Sehun.
“Yeah?” Sehun looks up.
“I should probably let you know that Chanyeol has Luhan.”
“Wait...what?” Sehun quickly unfolds Jongin’s slip, revealing a neatly scrawled Baekhyun. “Hold up, gimme yours back.”
“Nope,” Jongin slips the sheet of paper into his wallet with a fluid motion. “This is mine now.”
“You suck,” Sehun glares.
“Hmmm.” Jongin throws his wallet into his backpack. “Do I really?”
“Seriously,” Sehun glares harder. “This is actually kinda important to me.”
“Just go trade with Chanyeol, you dumbass.”
“Huh?”
“Trade with Chanyeol,” Jongin enunciates, pointing at the slip of paper dangling in Sehun’s grasp and flicks a finger towards Chanyeol’s office. “Offer Baekhyun for Luhan.”
“Huh.” Sehun cocks his head to the side. “That might work.”
“It will work.”
“Huh,” Sehun repeats for a third time as he shuffles off towards Chanyeol’s office, passing by the entryway just as Kyungsoo strides into the cubicle.
“What’s with him?” Kyungsoo asks, brows furrowed as he takes a sip of his steaming coffee. Suddenly his nose wrinkles (cutely) as he winces and yanks the cup away from his face, “Shit, this is hot.”
“Let me try?” Jongin hears his own voice drop down an octave, his previous sarcasm ebb away, and a smile tug at his lips as he extends a hand.
And he finds it amusing how quickly Kyungsoo becomes flustered, his mentor inwardly debating for a few seconds too long with his fingers clasped around his cup before extending the mug with both hands and a question, “You’re not sick are you?”
The reluctance in Kyungsoo’s voice stings slightly, but Jongin grabs the opportunity firmly by the handle anyway, making sure to brush Kyungsoo’s fingers as he takes the mug.
“Nope,” Jongin closes his eyes, letting the steam dance across his face as he tilts the cup back. Which, he finds out is a terrible idea the second the scalding hot coffee burns the roof of his mouth.
“That is hot,” Jongin agrees, scrunching up his face as he hands the cup back, simultaneously noting how he can’t feel the tip of his tongue and how Kyungsoo’s face is a few shades pinker than it was a moment ago.
Kyungsoo nods absentmindedly. He’s preoccupied with the orientation of the cup in his hands, rotating the apparatus slowly in his hands, eyes fixated on the rim of the cup, occasionally pausing, lowering his lips towards the rim, frowning, then edging back and rotating the cup once again. Jongin notices Kyungsoo pauses at the same side every time, which coincidentally or not, is the same section of edge Jongin had taken his sip from. After a few more indecisive turns, Kyungsoo places the mug on his desk without taking a sip and falls back into his chair.
“So what were you talking about with Sehun,” Kyungsoo asks.
“Nothing,” Jongin looks at Kyungsoo, and as always, is captivated by his eyes. So captivated, he’s compelled to tell the truth, “Well, actually, about Secret Santa.”
“Oh,” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise and his lips curl into a soft smile. “Who do you have?”
Jongin bites his bottom lip.
“Oh yeah, you can’t tell me,” Kyungsoo shakes his head, still smiling.
“Yeah,” Jongin looks at the floor.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo brings a finger to his lips and holds up a slip of paper. “I’m going to break a rule here, but could you help me out with shopping for my Secret Santa person? Because I think you know him a lot better than I do.”
And for a moment, Jongin feels a twinge of jealousy, as if he had subconsciously (or more than subconsciously) been hoping that on that slip between Kyungsoo’s fingers held his own name. But he doesn’t really feel like betraying that emotion, and so instead mumbles, “Do I?”
“You do. Also, you’re almost done with your work right?” Kyungsoo smiles as he grabs his coat of the back of his chair. “Let’s take the rest of the day off and go gift hunting. You’ve been working nonstop all week.”
“Sure,” Jongin gets up and suddenly he has a thought. “You have Sehun, don’t you.”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods and shakes his head again. “I have no idea what to get him.”
“A stapler,” Jongin snickers. “And an extra box of staples.”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Kyungsoo pales.
“Oh yeah, huh,” Jongin taps his chin. “Throw in a box of Hello Kitty band aids and call it a day.”
This time, Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin revels in the moment, a faint pride blooming in his chest over the quickening pace of his heartbeat.
“Come on, let’s go,” Kyungsoo pushes Jongin out of the cubicle. “And find an actual present.”
Just then, Sehun waltzes past, coveted slip of paper clutched in his fingers.
“It worked,” Sehun’s smile is blindingly bright.
“What worked?”
“Nothing,” Jongin sighs.
He glances down at Kyungsoo, noticing how his shoulder is at the perfect armrest height, and raises his arm slightly, inwardly debating whether or not he should go for it, before-fuck it, and wraps his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder.
“Nice,” Sehun smirks.
Jongin ignores him.
~•~
I’ve always wondered, Sehun asked, just a week ago, as he slipped into Jongin’s car.
That requires you to think, and I don’t think you do that.
Hey.
Haha.
But anyway-why Kyungsoo?
Jongin thinks back to all the moments and memories, and there’s a whole collection of reasons he’d rather not divulge or even cared to assemble. Simply put, he liked being around Kyungsoo.
But that sounded too superficial.
You’ve been stuck on him forever, for like what...three, four years now?
Five.
Sehun rolled his eyes and made a ‘continue’ motion with his hand, Okay…
I really don’t know, Jongin tilted his head, looking at the sky.
He supposed, though, there was one connecting theme, one underlying reason why he liked Kyungsoo for so long. It had something to do how his heart felt light every time he saw him, how his spirits soared, how he felt a grin tug at the corners of his lips, how he felt motivated to work, to put in long hours in programming and school in order to follow Kyungsoo, and suddenly he realizes it’s because-
He could see Sehun shift out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to look Sehun straight in the eye, and with a shrug, said,
I guess he’s always brought out the best in me.
~○~
| holiday parties I |
“Hello knaves!” Junmyeon greets as the company files into the conference room for the second time that week.
“Hey, why does he keep calling us that,” Jongdae whispers to Yixing.
“No idea,” Yixing glances at Junmyeon out of the corner of his eye. “But I’ll play along, it makes him happy.”
“So,” Junmyeon gestures with flourish. “Holiday party planning. I’d like a potluck.”
“Is that because you can’t cook?” Minseok raises his hand.
Junmyeon opens his mouth, presumably in retaliation, pauses for a moment, then closes his mouth and looks down, dejected.
“I mean,” Minseok puts his hand down. “I’m all for a potluck.”
“Good,” Junmyeon springs back to life and pulls out a sheet of lined paper and a pen. “I’ll bring the utensils and plates and cups and stuff. As for the rest of you, just pass this around and write down what you’ll bring.”
“I call chips!” Sehun calls out.
“Hey that’s the easy thing to bring,” Jongin scowls.
“Yeah,” Sehun shrugs. “That’s why I called it.”
“That’s cool,” Baekhyun takes the sheet from Junmyeon and frowns at it.
“Hey Baekhyun,” Sehun whispers.
“What?”
“You know what you should bring?”
“What?” Baekhyun looks at Sehun’s grinning face and holds up a finger. “Wait, on second thought, no I don’t want to know, because I know exactly what you’re going to say.”
“You…” Sehun continues.
“Please.”
“Should bring…”
“I’ve heard this one so many times-“
“Bacon,” Sehun reduces himself to a fit of giggles.
Baekhyun gives Sehun a less-than-amused look.
“Just for that,” Baekhyun quickly scribbles. “I’m going to bring chips.”
“NO,” Sehun gasps.
“Oh and I got the salsa,” Chanyeol sings from behind as he reaches over Baekhyun, leaning against Baekhyun’s back with an arm on Baekhyun’s head, and scrawls on the sheet.
“NO,” Sehun gasps again.
“Hey put me down for guacamole,” Yixing says from across the table and Chanyeol obliges.
“YOU GUYS,” Sehun wails helplessly.
“Haha,” Baekhyun tosses the sheet and pen at Sehun. “Now you have to bring something else, like real food.”
“Screw you guys,” Sehun mumbles as he writes ‘Sehun: cookies’ legibly on the sheet.
“Does anyone have a place we can use,” Minseok looks around the conference room.
“Well we’re all in apartments except for Junmyeon and Kris,” Yixing points out.
“Yeah, I’m still moving in though,” Junmyeon smiles and 11 pairs of eyes turn to Kris.
“Uh,” Kris looks around the room, caught in the middle of scratching his nose. He slowly lowers his hand and sighs, “Yeah, I guess that’s fine.”
“Cool we have a place then,” Minseok sticks out his tongue as he scrawls Kris’ address on the whiteboard.
“This for the people who don’t know where Kris lives. What time can we show up?”
“Hmm, I guess like 7 or something, I have to clean up,” Kris watches Minseok write. “Also don’t fuck it up too much, it’s still my parents’ place.”
Jongdae sniggers, “Whoa. Wait, you still live in your parents’ house?”
Kris rolls his eyes, “Yes.”
“This is hilarious.”
“Enough.”
“Kris Wu,” Jongdae sweeps a hand across the air. “Basement dweller.”
Kris sinks his head into his hand.
“Kris Wu, still tied to his mother’s apron strings.”
“Tao,” Kris extends a hand. “Please.”
Tao wordlessly pulls out the nerf gun and hands it to Kris.
“Kris Wu,” Jongdae starts, unaware of Kris leveling the gun at his head.
With a resounding pop, Kris sends a bullet into Jongdae’s temple.
“Kris Wu,” Kris places the gun on the table. “Doesn't fuck around.”
“Was that really necessary,” Jongdae glares.
“Evidently,” Kris hands the gun back to Tao.
“Wait, I don’t want this,” Tao frowns and tosses the gun onto the floor, the weapon bouncing a few feet to the left with a few solid smacks to the ground.
“Careful with that,” Kris steps forward, voice cracking. “You might mess up the springs.”
Jongdae and Tao both regard Kris with judging stares.
“What,” Kris stops and looks around.
“Weird,” Yixing mutters.
“Hey guys,” Junmyeon says in small voice. “Do any of you want to change what you’re bringing to the potluck?”
“No.”
“Naw, I’m good”
“Nope.”
“Not really, why?”
“Because according to this list, the only entrée we have is kimchi spaghetti,” Junmyeon frowns. “Otherwise we have chips, salsa, guacamole, five types of
cookies-hey Sehun, you’re going to have to clarify what kind-and a “salad,” wait Jongdae, why is that in quotations…? Whatever. And soda.”
Jongdae raises his hand, “I’ve never made a salad before, and so I feel like that serves as a disclaimer.”
“Dude, you just take lettuce, throw it in a bowl, and mix it around with dressing and shit,” Luhan looks at Jongdae. “Or even easier, just bring lettuce and leave the dressing on the side.”
“You never know what might happen,” Jongdae shrugs. “I could burn it.”
“Okay…then…I think we also need more real food,” Junmyeon looks back at the conference table.
“Naw, that seems about right.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean I can’t cook.”
“If kimchi spaghetti all you guys want to eat, then I guess that’s fine,” Junmyeon frowns.
“Yeah I’m fine with that.”
“Sounds good.”
“Throw a lot of cheese on it Kyungsoo, like last time.”
Junmyeon looks sheepishly at Kyungsoo, “Kyungsoo are you okay with making enough for 12 people?”
“Yeah I guess,” Kyungsoo sighs. “I’ll get someone to help or something.”
“Okay that’s settled,” Junmyeon rubs his forehead. “Holiday party. Tomorrow at 7. Kris’ house. Be there.”
~○~
| holiday party II |
“Whoa. Wait, Kris didn’t say his parents’ house was huge,” Jongdae whispers in awe as Minseok turns left into a driveway, “The driveway is fucking boulevard.”
“He also didn’t tell you his parents don’t actually live here,” Luhan responds from the backseat. “He’s just occupying it to maintain it.”
“Where are they now?”
“Let’s see, it’s December...so I think they’re on their Hawaii leg of their house rotation. Winter getaway.”
“House rotation…what the…how many houses do they have?”
“Including this one? At least five,” Luhan counts off his fingers. “There’s one in Guangzhou, one in Toronto, the Hawaii one, this one, and I can’t remember the fifth one...”
“I think it’s in southern France,” Yixing supplies. “Or something. He goes there every summer.”
“That’s it.”
“What do they do?”
“They’re old money, but maintain it through investments,” Yixing stares at his hand. “His dad is on an executive committee at one of the major companies around here too.”
“Holy shit,” Jongdae marvels, peering out the window. “And holy shit again, we haven’t even reached the actual house yet.”
“Yeah, pick your battles better next time.”
“Holy shit,” Jongdae ignores Luhan, craning his neck to get a better view. “Is that a peacock?”
“Yeah, his name is Alala. He’s a son on of a bitch.”
“Sorry,” Jongdae turns around, eyebrows raised. “Could you repeat that?”
“A la la,” Luhan says slowly. “He’s called Alala.”
“Alala.” Jongdae repeats. “What.”
“Named after the female Greek spirit of the war cry.”
“…Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Fucking weird.”
•
“Okay you guys, we’re going to do the Secret Santa exchange in a moment,” Junmyeon assembles everyone into the foyer.
“Damn Kris, you really went all out,” Yixing admires, glancing the decorations, from the 12-foot Christmas tree, to the lighted garlands woven through the wrought iron stair railing, to the wreath gracing the front door.
“Thanks,” Kris nods, glancing at the garlands and picking out a stray synthetic pine needle and flicking it into a nearby trashcan. “But I didn’t do it, my parents hired a professional decorator.”
“Whoa.”
“Hey,” Luhan glances down, interested, at the package grasped in Chanyeol’s hand, a thin four by three object wrapped more or less neatly in a shiny paper. “Who did you have?”
Chanyeol looks tense, and he glances down at the package before muttering, “Baekhyun.”
“Ah,” Luhan nods. “What did you get him?”
Chanyeol hesitates for a moment, “A visa gift card.”
“That’s…safe.”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol tugs at a section of his bangs. “I didn’t really know what to get him. Does it seem impersonal?”
“It’s useful,” Luhan shrugs.
“I guess,” Chanyeol looks down at the oddly wrapped package nestled in Luhan’s arm. “What’s that?”
“A friendship bracelet kit,” Luhan smooths the tape on a corner. “For Minseok.”
“Sorry, a…what?”
“A friendship bracelet kit.”
“Does Minseok…like making friendship bracelets…?” Chanyeol looks thoroughly confused.
“No idea.”
“…Why then?”
“It’s the gift that keeps on giving,” Luhan beams.
“Huh?”
“When you make a friendship bracelet,” Luhan explains. “You always make them to give away, right?”
“I guess, I mean I wouldn’t really know.”
“So if and when Minseok makes a friendship bracelet, there’s a high chance I’ll receive one,” Luhan shifts the gift in his arms. “You know, either as a thank-you gift or as my standing as friend.”
Chanyeol just shakes his head, “I can’t tell whether this is incredibly self-centered or amazingly ingenious.”
“I just think of it as an investment,” Luhan cheerfully whispers.
“...You would.”
“Okay, everyone,” Junmyeon calls from beside the banister on the second floor. “Exchange your gifts!”
“Wait aren’t we supposed to throw them in a pile or something and then pick them out?” Jongdae squints up at Junmyeon.
“Maybe,” Junmyeon shrugs. “But this will be faster.”
“But it takes out all of the anonymity.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon shrugs again. “But there’s only 12 of us, it wouldn’t be that hard to guess.”
“True.”
•
“Hey Kyungsoo,” Jongin sneaks up behind Kyungsoo and deposits a neatly wrapped package in his arms. “Happy Holidays.”
“Oh, you had me?” Kyungsoo turns around, eyes wide, smile wider. “Thanks, what is it?”
“Season one of Pororo.”
“Wait really...?” Kyungsoo quickly rips off the wrapping and his eyes begin to sparkle. “You’re awesome.”
“Haha.”
•
On the other side of the room, Sehun’s just about ready to deliver his gift. He’s checked his reflection in an ornament about seven times, making sure his hair is neatly slicked back and his collar neatly folded. He takes a deep breath and is just about to take a step towards Luhan-before Minseok cuts in front of him, making a beeline for Luhan.
“Hey, I heard you like friendship bracelets,” Minseok tosses a package-haphazardly bundled in newspaper-into Luhan’s arms.
“Oh, you already knew what I got you?” Luhan dumps his gift into Minseok’s arm in a similar fashion.
“Wait what?” Minseok picks apart the wrapping. “No that’s what I got you.”
“Well this is awkward,” Luhan shakes the wrapping paper loose.
Probably not as awkward as his own situation, Sehun thinks as he shrinks behind the tree, his own gift for Luhan securely behind his back.
“Yeah,” Minseok glances at Luhan’s kit then back to his own. “Well at least there are different colors of string?”
“Hey, wait,” Baekhyun stops next to the pair and points at Minseok. “You had Luhan too?”
“Too?” Minseok looks at Baekhyun then at Luhan. “What do you mean by ‘too’?”
“I bought something for him as well,” Baekhyun looks down at the friendship bracelet kits. “Coincidently, the same gift.”
“Yeah, wait, me three,” Tao waves his present. “Friendship bracelet kits for Luhan?”
“Huh?” Luhan glances confusedly from Tao to Baekhyun.
“Hey, what is this,” Kris frowns, similar sized present in hand, with a big label with for Luhan slapped on the front.
“What the fuck,” both Luhan and Jongdae exclaim at the same time as Jongdae arrives on the scene.
“Okay, Luhan,” Junmyeon sighs, placing his present on Luhan’s growing pile. “Can you explain what happened?”
“Yeah what the fuck did you do?” Kris growls.
“I don’t know,” Luhan throws two hands in the air. “I really don’t.”
“Luhan,” Minseok glowers.
“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on,” Luhan looks down at the pile. “And…are all of those friendship bracelet kits?”
“That’s what I got you,” Jongdae nods.
“Yeah me too,” Junmyeon sighs again.
“Yixing told me you wanted one when I traded name slips with him,” Baekhyun shrugs.
“Wait,” Tao places his gift on the pile. “You too…again?”
“I traded with Yixing also,” Minseok scowls.
Suddenly seven head turn and seven pairs of eyes are trained on a comfortably lounging Yixing on the other side of the foyer.
“What’s up you guys?” Yixing smiles cheekily. “I had Kris.”
“What the fuck man,” Luhan nudges the pile with his toe. “Though I have to admit it’s a good setup.”
“How did you do it,” Jongdae stares in wonderment.
“It was easy, I just offered to trade with over half the office and planted fake slips.”
“Yixing,” Jongdae shakes his fist.
“The best part was, it worked. I kind of can’t believe this”
“I think this calls for a lesson,” Kris strips off the wrapping on Yixing’s gift to him, revealing a two-foot long nerf gun. He swiftly rips it out of its packaging, quickly stuffing the darts into the magazine.
“HOLY SHIT,” Yixing jumps out of his chair and hides behind it just as Kris begins raining fire.
“Now why would you get him that,” Chanyeol moans, burying his head in his hands as darts wiz overhead. “That thing is called Rapid Fire-that should be enough to tell you it’s a bad idea.”
“We all make mistakes,” Yixing yelps as he abandons his post and runs to the other side of the foyer, ducking and weaving as Kris chases after him.
•
“Hey.”
Luhan looks up from his perch on the bottom step of the foyer’s staircase and is greeted by the site of Sehun, arms hugging something behind his back.
“What happened to your gifts?” Sehun gestured towards the area the pile had previously been occupying.
“They took them back and distributed them among themselves,” Luhan sighs. “Though I guess it’s okay, I don’t really like making friendship bracelets.”
“Well,” Sehun pulls a gift out from behind his back, a sizeable, brightly wrapped cube-like box, and drops it lightly on Luhan’s lap. “Happy Holidays.”
“Did you get my name from Yixing too?” Luhan shakes the box skeptically. “And is this a really large friendship bracelet kit?”
“No,” Sehun plops down next to Luhan, leaving a few inches between them. “To both.”
“Huh,” Luhan unwraps the package, revealing a UEFA Euro 2012 match soccer ball. “Wow.”
“I heard you liked soccer,” Sehun nervously shifts. “So…”
“Wow. Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Luhan looks, with wide eyes, down at the ball and back at Sehun. “Aren’t these really expensive?”
“I have connections,” Sehun avoids Luhan’s gaze.
“Wow,” Luhan repeats, then after a second thought. “Do you play?”
“Play what?”
“Soccer.”
“No.”
“Hmm,” Luhan thinks for a moment. “Do you want me to teach you?”
“Would you?”
“Yeah, good ol’ mentor-mentee bonding,” Luhan ruffles Sehun’s hair, and Sehun slides back a bit, hands defensively shielding his hair.
“Yeah,” Sehun combs a few strands back into place. “That sounds nice.”
They lapse into a silence, basking in the glow of the lit Christmas tree, the various baubles and ornaments reflecting and refracting light, creating sparkling patterns on the shining marble. And Luhan finds it somewhat comfortable. It’s the first time in while that they’ve sat this close, and Luhan, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, likes it.
Maybe it’s the light, but somehow Sehun looks more mature today. But it could also be the dress shirt Sehun has on, or neatly tied tie around his neck. But there’s also something about his face, and Luhan realizes this is the first time he’s stopped and really took in Sehun’s features.
Sehun, Luhan thinks dimly, heart thudding a little faster, is attractive.
“Oh, mistletoe,” Sehun points upwards, and Luhan follows his gaze towards the little green offender hanging innocently from the balcony.
And somehow that breaks the spell. It’s a little too fast for Luhan, and he’s a little too sober, and Sehun’s eyes are a little too serious, and he’s sitting a little too close, and it’s a little too warm, and Luhan’s nerves are a bit too jittery, and Sehun’s still a little too young, and under that mask of maturity is the same derp from the office, and Sehun still can’t code for his life, and Luhan doesn’t really know why that matters, and there are a hundred and one other reasons why this isn’t the time. And so just as Sehun’s eyes are about to close, and just as he’s about the tip forward, Luhan intercepts Sehun with a brusque hug instead, thumping Sehun’s back solidly with a few curt pats.
“Hey guys,” Yixing walks out with a bag of red solo cups. “So I located a ping pong table…”
Luhan takes it as his cue to leave.
“Thanks for the gift,” Luhan whispers into Sehun’s ear, and quickly slides out of the hug, striding away before he can see Sehun’s expression, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, heart racing at a million beats per a minute.
Because Luhan can see himself falling for Sehun.
He can see it.
(And a tiny, minute, almost unnoticeable part of him is.)
•
“So,” Yixing stands on top of a chair. “Does everyone know how to play beer pong?”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol wrinkles his nose. “But you might want to explain your version.”
“Good idea,” Yixing hops down and gestures at the triangular formation of cups on both sides of the table. “So each team starts out with six cups-“
“Isn’t it 10,” Minseok interjects.
“Six to ten,” Kris waves Minseok off. “We’re going with six though, to make the games go faster.”
“And the goal is to get one of these,” Yixing holds up a ping pong ball and points to the solo cups. “Into those. They’re filled a third of the way with beer, and if your opponent lands a ball into one of the cups, you drink the contents of that cup and remove the emptied cup from the table. You win when eliminate all of your opponents cups.”
“Are we playing with bounces?” Jongdae raises a hand.
“Yeah,” Yixing bounces the ping-pong ball against the table. “Also, teams of two, tournament-style. In addition, since we have minors and drivers here, we’ll alternate team members every point, but designate one person to drink.”
“Doesn’t that diminish part of the game?” Tao asks.
“Yeah but we don’t want people to die. Also wait, how would you know?” Yixing frowns. “So anyway, Jongin, you’ll be with Kyungsoo, and Sehun, you’ll be with Luhan, and Tao, I keep forgetting you’re a minor, I guess you’ll go with Kris-they’ll drink for you guys.”
Kris stands up, “Everyone else just find someone and let’s start.”
•
The prelims are brutal, Chanyeol notices after a fairly quick shutdown match against Junmyeon and Jongdae (in ten minutes the end score was 6:2). Of course he knew Baekhyun would be the best teammate (and damn, his shots were accurate), though he was starting to get worried over the fact that Baekhyun was looking tipsy after two cups.
He had offered to be the designated drinker, and it would have made sense given his height and his high tolerance levels. But Baekhyun wouldn’t have any of it, citing the fact that he’d like to get home in once piece that night, and he wasn’t about to drive Chanyeol’s car (Chanyeol couldn’t quite catch all of what Baekhyun muttered after that, other than don’t want to crash, rising insurance, jean cutoffs, and that is one motherfucking winding road we have to get down).
Of course, Baekhyun looked a lot better off than Junmyeon, who was collapsed in a collapsed pile of giggling fits in the corner, clutching the foot of a barstool, with a semi-concerned and hovering Jongdae right next to him.
“Hey Jongdae, has anyone told you hehe that you look like a ehe pineapple…ehhe?”
“No, I can’t say I’ve ever heard that, and you’re really drunk.”
“That’s…ehhe...good because you don’t. I eheh think you’re more like a banana hehe instead. Or a walnut. Yeah, hehe a walnut.”
“…What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”
Though, Chanyeol was still worried. Because the winning teams had all had similar scores (Jongin and Kyungsoo smashed Kris and Tao six to nothing, and Minseok and Yixing had doled out a solid 6-3 victory over Luhan and Sehun). In the following round, competition would be anything but easy.
“So,” a slightly red-faced Yixing tapped the table. “Since we have three teams left, we’ll decide it with a round robin. Also, we’re ramping up the cup number to 10. Team with the most wins…wins.”
“Nice Asian-glow,” Kris remarked from the sidelines.
“Shaddup,” Yixing glared. “You’re like a fucking stop light compared to me.”
Luckily for Chanyeol, the other two teams square off first, and it ends as a fast-paced 15-minute victory for Kyungsoo and Jongin, a narrow 10-8 win over the passed out Yixing and preoccupied Minseok hauling Yixing to the side. Chanyeol is slightly shaken-there were few misses. But by luck of the draw, they decide Yixing is incompetent to compete, and the finals will be held between Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Jongin.
“You ready?” Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun smiles, eyes slightly unfocused.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Chanyeol strides over to the table.
“Call heads or tails for first shot,” Kris fumbles with a quarter.
“FFFUCKIN’ HEADS.”
Chanyeol whips around and is greeted by the sight of a bright-red Kyungsoo banging his fists against the table.
“FUCKIN’ HEADS, JUS’…hic…TOSS THE DAMN THING MOTHERFUCKER,” Kyungsoo demands, throwing another fist onto the table surface.
“Damn, angry drunk,” Luhan whispers loudly. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Uh, okay,” Kris flips the coin and it lands on tails. “First shot goes to Baekhyun and Chanyeol.”
“DAMMIIIT,” Kyungsoo lightly head-butts Jongin. “Sorry…Jongin. I let you down…man.”
“It’s okay,” Jongin awkwardly pats Kyungsoo’s head. He looks around before he hesitantly asks, “Would it be okay if I drank this round? I’m not sure he can get through another cup. I’ll crash at someone else’s house until I’m sober so my parents won’t figure out.”
“Sure,” Chanyeol readjusts the cups on his side of the table. “Hey Baekhyun, do you want to switch too?”
“Nawp,” Baekhyun waves. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” Chanyeol takes aim, one eye scrunched closed and tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth. “You guys are going down.”
•
“Holy shit, it’s 9-9,” Minseok marvels from the sideline.
“First one to make it in while the other one doesn’t wins,” a recently revived Yixing mumbles.
Chanyeol can feel the sweat roll down the side of his face as he steadies the ping-pong ball, making a few practice throw motions, before releasing the ball. He panics for a moment, when the ball falls a few inches short of where he was aiming, but by some miraculous virtue, extra spin or force he must have put unknowingly, he’s rewarded by a satisfying splash of ball in cup.
Now it was all up to Jongin to miss. Chanyeol notices he was tottering slightly as he walked up to the table, eyes having a difficult time staying focused on the cup.
“YOU CAN FUCKIN’ DO IT,” Kyungsoo shouts. “WOOOOOOO.”
After a moment more of hesitation, Jongin tosses, ball bouncing over the net and onto Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s side, flying directly toward the cup-and misses by mere centimeters, skirting the table and bouncing onto the floor.
“We won,” Chanyeol mumbles in disbelief, and turned around to lock eyes with Baekhyun, arms raised in triumph. “WE WON.”
“Wooohoooo!” Baekhyun cheers unfocusedly, eyes slipping into happy, crescent slivers.
“Dammit,” Kyungsoo pouts and slouches next to Jongin.
Jongin slips an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist in a drunken movement and hiccups, “My bad.”
“S’ok,” Kyungsoo leans his head against Jongin’s shoulder, eyes sliding shut, not noticing Jongin’s hand sliding under shirt.
But Chanyeol does, and he kind of notices how Jongin’s pretty drunk, and his eyes are a bit darker, how he seems to be moving his hand intentionally, how his hand is gripping Kyungsoo’s wrist now, and he’s dragging Kyungsoo away somewhere around the corner, and, well, Chanyeol only ‘kind of’ notices because he’s got other things on his mind, like-
“Hey,” Chanyeol calls to Kris. “Do we get anything for winning?”
“Uh,” Kris’ eyes shift around. “Bragging rights?”
“Good enough,” Chanyeol turns to beam at Baekhyun and abruptly stops because Baekhyun’s three inches away from his face.
And suddenly-“I love you Chanyeol,” Baekhyun mumbles as he clumsily wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and leans in.
And it doesn’t really matter that the kiss tastes like cheap beer, or how Baekhyun ends almost right after it begins, or how it kind of hurt because their teeth clash together, because a kiss is a kiss is a kiss, and Chanyeol’s lips are pleasantly tingling, and his heart is racing, his mind has stopped, and Baekhyun initiated it and not him, and it’s got to mean something, and-
“I lurve you Minseok, I lurve you Jongdae, I lurve you Luhan, I lurve all you guys,” Chanyeol heard Baekhyun mumble loudly (drunkenly) before he hears a large splash, and turns around to see Minseok and Jongdae helping a soaked Baekhyun out of the pool.
“He’s smashed,” Minseok nudged Baekhyun lightly with the back of his hand. “He’s not going to remember anything when he wakes up.”
And maybe those things do matter a bit, because alcohol talks.
But, Chanyeol brings a hand to his lips, the tingling sensation refuses to go away, and the heartbeats in his chest refuse to slow. It’s got to mean something.
At the very least, it’s a start.
•
“Hey Jongdae,” Luhan does his best to ask innocently. “Do you want to go grab some towels from the bathroom? We need to clean up the water Baekhyun tracked in.”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall, to the right.”
“Sure.”
“Hey, we have some right here,” Kris points to the corner.
“Yeah, I know,” Luhan pulls out his wallet.
Suddenly Jongdae reappears without a towel in hand and much paler than he was a second ago.
“How was it?” Luhan does his best to ask innocently again as Jongdae flops down at the table.
“You bastard,” Jongdae whips out his wallet and throws $300 on the table.
“Oh what’s this?” Luhan feigns surprise.
“You were right,” Jongdae groans as he sinks his head between his arms. “At the very end of the second week, and they’re drunk out of their minds, but dammit you were right. But I didn’t need to see.”
“Wait, is this what I think it is?” Kris asks, brows furrowing.
“Yeah, pay up,” Luhan waggles his fingers.
“Fuck,” Kris swears as he throws $50.
“I don’t believe it,” Minseok mutters as he tosses three crisp twenties.
Chanyeol sighs as he places a wrinkled $100 near Luhan at the same time Tao rolls his eyes and lays $40 in an unsorted bundle of fives and tens.
“No way,” Yixing gasps as he places a quarter on the stash of bills.
“Wait I didn’t bet against you,” Luhan frowns. ”But I’ll keep that.”
“Yeah you didn’t, I just felt like joining in,” Yixing takes back the quarter.
“Wait,” Jongdae glances up at Luhan, confused, and gestures at the money. “What is all of this?”
“Well this,” Luhan separates $300 into one pile and pats it. “Came from you.”
“Okay.”
“Then these,” Luhan sweeps up the rest. “Came from me, betting on you, walking in on them.”
“You bastard,” Jongdae's jaw drops.
“No, no I assure you I’m a legitimate child,” Luhan smiles as he scoops his winnings into his wallet.
“Screw you,” Jongdae snatches a twenty out of Luhan’s hand.
“Hey, give that back,” Luhan grasps wildly in the air.
“No,” Jongdae pockets the bill. “This is a compensation fee.”
“For what?”
“Gallons of some sort of cleaning agent,” Jongdae scrubs at his face. “I need to clean-no, fucking purge-my eyes after seeing that.”
~○~
On the next episode of Office Antics…
Luhan attempts to teach Sehun how to play soccer.
“OKAY,” Luhan shouts above the gale and the torrential rain. “I’M GOING TO KICK IT.”
“YOU KNOW WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO LEARN,” Sehun yells, tiptoeing in slushy mud and a cheap plastic poncho. “I KIND OF MEANT WHEN IT WAS SUNNY OR SOMETHING. NOT IN 30-BELOW WEATHER AND IN THE MIDDLE OF A STORM.”
“WHAT I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” Luhan cups a wet hand to his ear, clutching a soccer ball in his free arm.
“I SAID,” Sehun tries again. “CAN WE PLAY WHEN IT’S SUNNY?”
“WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO PLAY WITH SUNNY,” Luhan shouts. “SHE’S TERRIBLE AT SPORTS.”
“NO I SAID WHEN THE WEATHER’S BETTER,” Sehun pauses for a moment, fruitlessly wiping water from his eye. “AND WAIT GIVE ME A MINUTE.”
“YOU SAID KICK IT?”
“NO, NO, GIVE ME A MINUTE.”
“I’M GOING TO KICK IT, GET READY.”
“NO, NO, STOP, OH FUC-“ Sehun sinks to the ground, nether regions severely in pain.
“SORRY,” Luhan yells as he jogs over to Sehun. “You should have told me to wait.”
“Ugh,” Sehun, crumpled on the ground, can only manage to groan.
•
Chanyeol copes with the help of Kris.
“My life sucks,” Chanyeol mopes, head lulling in his chair.
“Oh, I know,” Kris mutters without glancing up.
“Thanks.”
“I’d really hate to be you,” Kris continues.
“Oh, okay,” Chanyeol frowns.
“Like, not even kidding.”
“Okay, it’s getting old.”
“Like," Kris looks up. "If I were given three wishes, one of them would be to not be you.”
“Really.”
“Yeah, and the second one would be for a fucking good sandwich.”
“What the fuck?”
"What?"
"Why would you waste a wish on a sandwich?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"I don't know," Chanyeol swivels around. "Like for many, many reasons."
“It's achievable, and delicious. I like to keep my wishes realistic,” Kris adjusts the crease on his collar. “But then, I’d wish for three more wishes, so I’d be okay.”
~◙~
|| episode 6 bonus ||
Rating G-13
Word Count 7264
Pairing Baekyeol, Kaisoo, Hunhan
Summary office!au] Twelve guys and one software startup.
prologue
Episode 6: Happy(?) Holidays
| seriously serious |
Holiday break for Jongin was, and is, a cursed blessing. There was a time, prior to high school, where it was an incredible, unfettered 14-day stretch of pure vacation. Then, there was high school, where the first half constituted of worrying about post-final grades and the second half was devoted towards preparing for second semester.
Then there was senior year, which topped off break with a nice icing of college apps. At least this year, Jongin had a job he really liked, which helped keep his mind of things.
“Hey Jongin.”
Of course, Sehun did too.
Jongin pauses mid-keystroke and peers up to see Sehun perched with his elbows over the divider and a (stupid) grin plastered over his face. Jongin then glances down at the clock in the corner of his monitor (it’s 5:30), and promptly decides the seconds he could give to Sehun would be infinitely better afforded towards his work.
Plainly ignoring Sehun, Jongin resumes typing.
“Heeeeey Jongin.”
Staring at Sehun, Jongin takes a page out of Tao’s book and inches a hand towards his headphones, sliding them over his ears with a clean snap. He then looks back at his screen and resumes typing.
“Wow, you suck. Seriously, hey Jongin,” Sehun sounds a little more than peeved.
“Shh.” Jongin raises a finger to his lips.
“Shh?” Sehun frowns. “Huh? I’m not even being loud.”
“Mhmm,” Jongin hums.
“I don’t get it.”
“Shh, because,” Jongin leans towards Sehun and whispers loudly, “This is to help me ignore you.”
“Wow fuck you.”
“Shh,” Jongin shushes again.
“Whatever,” Sehun rolls his eyes. “Anyway...hey Jongin.”
In response, Jongin types more wildly, the volume of the clacking keys rising with every pounding stroke.
“Hey JONGIN,” Sehun raises his voice.
“Okay, I fucking give in,” Jongin gives in, swiveling to face Sehun. “What.”
“Who’s your Secret Santa person?”
Jongin stares at Sehun.
“So, who is it?”
“That’s all you wanted to ask?”
“Uhhh,” Sehun looks up at the ceiling. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Jongin pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Uhhh...nope.”
“Seriously?” Jongin scoots his chair out into the passageway. “Luhan...seriously?”
Luhan turns around expressionlessly, “Seriously. And don’t let him back in here until Monday. Unless you feel like debugging his code for 3 hours.”
“See?” Sehun smirks.
“Well yeah,” Jongin frowns. “But that’s not exactly something to be proud of.”
“Whatever,” Sehun waves Jongin off. “But seriously, who’s your Secret Santa recipient?”
“If I say Luhan, will you leave me alone?”
“Wait, keep it down,” Sehun drops the volume of his voice down and motions for Jongin to do the same before quickly twisting around and checking to see if said-Luhan had heard. After a moment Sehun turns back around and whispers, “Are you being serious?”
“I don’t know,” Jongin raises his eyebrows. “Am I?”
“I need to know.”
“Against the rules of the game, man,” Jongin resumes typing. “You gotta play by the rules.”
“I’m not joking around.”
Jongin looks up and sees a serious Sehun, a strange glint in his eye.
“What’s in it for me?” Jongin scratches his neck.
“I’ll tell you who I have.”
“Hm...Not really interested,” Jongin turns back to his monitor.
“No,” Sehun says slowly, slipping out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’m sure you’re very interested.”
Jongin recognizes the slip of paper from the (strange) ceremony an hour earlier, the one where Junmyeon had ushered everyone into conference room, declared a company-wide game of Secret Santa in the name of team bonding, produced a cheap Santa hat, and had everyone draw names. The exchange day was the day of their holiday party, Junmyeon announced with flourish, and instructed, per usual rules, not to reveal one’s recipient.
“Very, very interested,” Sehun smirks, raising an eyebrow and nodding in the direction of Kyungsoo’s unoccupied chair.
Jongin curses inwardly. For whatever Sehun lacked in a various number of things (tact, enthusiasm, skill, etc.), he maintained an uncanny perceptive ability. Specifically when it came to all things Jongin-related. He was the first, and from what Jongin knew, the only of his same-aged friends to pick up on Jongin’s thing for Kyungsoo.
~•~
Hey, earth to Jongin.
Huh? A sophomore Jongin snapped out of his trance, and looked up from his bench at their high school to see a waving Sehun, a few inches away from his face.
What were you staring at? Sehun bent his head and angled it in the same direction as Jongin.
Nothing. Jongin turned away.
Hey that’s a senior…Do Kyungsoo right? Sehun pointed, looking back at Jongin.
Yeah. Jongin avoided Sehun’s eyes; he really didn’t want him to know.
Wasn’t he your neighbor?
Used to be.
You should go say hi, Sehun cupped his hands around his mouth. HEY KYUNG-
Jongin swiftly muffled Sehun with a slapped hand over his mouth, hissing, shut the fuck up.
Why? Sehun squirmed under Jongin’s grasp.
But Jongin was a little too late, and Kyungsoo looked up and spotted Jongin instantly.
Hey Jongin, Kyungsoo waved cheerfully. How’s it going?
Good, Jongin dropped Sehun unceremoniously and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to neaten it. How are you doing?
Pretty good, I have get going though, Kyungsoo held up his keys. I’ll catch you later.
Yeah…see you around, Jongin held up a hand, slowly lowering it as Kyungsoo’s back receded into the parking lot.
What was that, Sehun snorted behind Jongin.
Nothing, Jongin turned around and glared at Sehun.
Nothing? Sehun raised a brow then slowly smirked, Oh I get it.
No you don’t, Jongin quickly grabbed his backpack.
Heh, Sehun sauntered towards the parking lot. He’s attractive. I’ll give you that.
Fucking shut up, Jongin glared, pulling out his keys.
How are you doing, Sehun mimics Jongin in a falsetto, I have never seen you so fucking…polite.
Whatever, Jongin pops the door to his car open and slides in. If you keep going, I’m going to drive off and leave you here.
Okay, okay, Sehun throws his backpack into the backseat and climbs into the front, bending down to tie his shoelaces.
Good.
See you later, Sehun suddenly mimicked, in falsetto and fluttering eyelashes.
Jongin swiftly reached over and pulled a lever, and the back of the chair swung down hard, effectively pinning Sehun.
Holy fuck you asshole, Sehun squirmed.
I like this arrangement actually, Jongin started the engine and twisted around, checking his blind spots, before pulling out into the parking lot.
Augh you suck, Sehun reached around for the lever. I’m going to tell Kyungsoo that you’re an asshole.
As if.
~•~
“See we can make a deal. Provided you have what I want,” Sehun shakes the slip. “And this is what you want-which, it is-then I could...well you know...”
“I don’t get it.”
“Propose a trade,” Sehun grins, letting the hand with the slip of paper dangle over the divider.
“Hmm,” Jongin slides an identical folded slip of paper out of his pocket and frowns at it. Then after a moment, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Sure, why not.”
“Hell yeah,” Sehun fist pumps and holds out the slip of paper.
“Oh,” Jongin deposits his slip into Sehun’s extended palm as he takes the slip from Sehun.
“Yeah?” Sehun looks up.
“I should probably let you know that Chanyeol has Luhan.”
“Wait...what?” Sehun quickly unfolds Jongin’s slip, revealing a neatly scrawled Baekhyun. “Hold up, gimme yours back.”
“Nope,” Jongin slips the sheet of paper into his wallet with a fluid motion. “This is mine now.”
“You suck,” Sehun glares.
“Hmmm.” Jongin throws his wallet into his backpack. “Do I really?”
“Seriously,” Sehun glares harder. “This is actually kinda important to me.”
“Just go trade with Chanyeol, you dumbass.”
“Huh?”
“Trade with Chanyeol,” Jongin enunciates, pointing at the slip of paper dangling in Sehun’s grasp and flicks a finger towards Chanyeol’s office. “Offer Baekhyun for Luhan.”
“Huh.” Sehun cocks his head to the side. “That might work.”
“It will work.”
“Huh,” Sehun repeats for a third time as he shuffles off towards Chanyeol’s office, passing by the entryway just as Kyungsoo strides into the cubicle.
“What’s with him?” Kyungsoo asks, brows furrowed as he takes a sip of his steaming coffee. Suddenly his nose wrinkles (cutely) as he winces and yanks the cup away from his face, “Shit, this is hot.”
“Let me try?” Jongin hears his own voice drop down an octave, his previous sarcasm ebb away, and a smile tug at his lips as he extends a hand.
And he finds it amusing how quickly Kyungsoo becomes flustered, his mentor inwardly debating for a few seconds too long with his fingers clasped around his cup before extending the mug with both hands and a question, “You’re not sick are you?”
The reluctance in Kyungsoo’s voice stings slightly, but Jongin grabs the opportunity firmly by the handle anyway, making sure to brush Kyungsoo’s fingers as he takes the mug.
“Nope,” Jongin closes his eyes, letting the steam dance across his face as he tilts the cup back. Which, he finds out is a terrible idea the second the scalding hot coffee burns the roof of his mouth.
“That is hot,” Jongin agrees, scrunching up his face as he hands the cup back, simultaneously noting how he can’t feel the tip of his tongue and how Kyungsoo’s face is a few shades pinker than it was a moment ago.
Kyungsoo nods absentmindedly. He’s preoccupied with the orientation of the cup in his hands, rotating the apparatus slowly in his hands, eyes fixated on the rim of the cup, occasionally pausing, lowering his lips towards the rim, frowning, then edging back and rotating the cup once again. Jongin notices Kyungsoo pauses at the same side every time, which coincidentally or not, is the same section of edge Jongin had taken his sip from. After a few more indecisive turns, Kyungsoo places the mug on his desk without taking a sip and falls back into his chair.
“So what were you talking about with Sehun,” Kyungsoo asks.
“Nothing,” Jongin looks at Kyungsoo, and as always, is captivated by his eyes. So captivated, he’s compelled to tell the truth, “Well, actually, about Secret Santa.”
“Oh,” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise and his lips curl into a soft smile. “Who do you have?”
Jongin bites his bottom lip.
“Oh yeah, you can’t tell me,” Kyungsoo shakes his head, still smiling.
“Yeah,” Jongin looks at the floor.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo brings a finger to his lips and holds up a slip of paper. “I’m going to break a rule here, but could you help me out with shopping for my Secret Santa person? Because I think you know him a lot better than I do.”
And for a moment, Jongin feels a twinge of jealousy, as if he had subconsciously (or more than subconsciously) been hoping that on that slip between Kyungsoo’s fingers held his own name. But he doesn’t really feel like betraying that emotion, and so instead mumbles, “Do I?”
“You do. Also, you’re almost done with your work right?” Kyungsoo smiles as he grabs his coat of the back of his chair. “Let’s take the rest of the day off and go gift hunting. You’ve been working nonstop all week.”
“Sure,” Jongin gets up and suddenly he has a thought. “You have Sehun, don’t you.”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods and shakes his head again. “I have no idea what to get him.”
“A stapler,” Jongin snickers. “And an extra box of staples.”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Kyungsoo pales.
“Oh yeah, huh,” Jongin taps his chin. “Throw in a box of Hello Kitty band aids and call it a day.”
This time, Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin revels in the moment, a faint pride blooming in his chest over the quickening pace of his heartbeat.
“Come on, let’s go,” Kyungsoo pushes Jongin out of the cubicle. “And find an actual present.”
Just then, Sehun waltzes past, coveted slip of paper clutched in his fingers.
“It worked,” Sehun’s smile is blindingly bright.
“What worked?”
“Nothing,” Jongin sighs.
He glances down at Kyungsoo, noticing how his shoulder is at the perfect armrest height, and raises his arm slightly, inwardly debating whether or not he should go for it, before-fuck it, and wraps his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder.
“Nice,” Sehun smirks.
Jongin ignores him.
~•~
I’ve always wondered, Sehun asked, just a week ago, as he slipped into Jongin’s car.
That requires you to think, and I don’t think you do that.
Hey.
Haha.
But anyway-why Kyungsoo?
Jongin thinks back to all the moments and memories, and there’s a whole collection of reasons he’d rather not divulge or even cared to assemble. Simply put, he liked being around Kyungsoo.
But that sounded too superficial.
You’ve been stuck on him forever, for like what...three, four years now?
Five.
Sehun rolled his eyes and made a ‘continue’ motion with his hand, Okay…
I really don’t know, Jongin tilted his head, looking at the sky.
He supposed, though, there was one connecting theme, one underlying reason why he liked Kyungsoo for so long. It had something to do how his heart felt light every time he saw him, how his spirits soared, how he felt a grin tug at the corners of his lips, how he felt motivated to work, to put in long hours in programming and school in order to follow Kyungsoo, and suddenly he realizes it’s because-
He could see Sehun shift out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to look Sehun straight in the eye, and with a shrug, said,
I guess he’s always brought out the best in me.
~○~
| holiday parties I |
“Hello knaves!” Junmyeon greets as the company files into the conference room for the second time that week.
“Hey, why does he keep calling us that,” Jongdae whispers to Yixing.
“No idea,” Yixing glances at Junmyeon out of the corner of his eye. “But I’ll play along, it makes him happy.”
“So,” Junmyeon gestures with flourish. “Holiday party planning. I’d like a potluck.”
“Is that because you can’t cook?” Minseok raises his hand.
Junmyeon opens his mouth, presumably in retaliation, pauses for a moment, then closes his mouth and looks down, dejected.
“I mean,” Minseok puts his hand down. “I’m all for a potluck.”
“Good,” Junmyeon springs back to life and pulls out a sheet of lined paper and a pen. “I’ll bring the utensils and plates and cups and stuff. As for the rest of you, just pass this around and write down what you’ll bring.”
“I call chips!” Sehun calls out.
“Hey that’s the easy thing to bring,” Jongin scowls.
“Yeah,” Sehun shrugs. “That’s why I called it.”
“That’s cool,” Baekhyun takes the sheet from Junmyeon and frowns at it.
“Hey Baekhyun,” Sehun whispers.
“What?”
“You know what you should bring?”
“What?” Baekhyun looks at Sehun’s grinning face and holds up a finger. “Wait, on second thought, no I don’t want to know, because I know exactly what you’re going to say.”
“You…” Sehun continues.
“Please.”
“Should bring…”
“I’ve heard this one so many times-“
“Bacon,” Sehun reduces himself to a fit of giggles.
Baekhyun gives Sehun a less-than-amused look.
“Just for that,” Baekhyun quickly scribbles. “I’m going to bring chips.”
“NO,” Sehun gasps.
“Oh and I got the salsa,” Chanyeol sings from behind as he reaches over Baekhyun, leaning against Baekhyun’s back with an arm on Baekhyun’s head, and scrawls on the sheet.
“NO,” Sehun gasps again.
“Hey put me down for guacamole,” Yixing says from across the table and Chanyeol obliges.
“YOU GUYS,” Sehun wails helplessly.
“Haha,” Baekhyun tosses the sheet and pen at Sehun. “Now you have to bring something else, like real food.”
“Screw you guys,” Sehun mumbles as he writes ‘Sehun: cookies’ legibly on the sheet.
“Does anyone have a place we can use,” Minseok looks around the conference room.
“Well we’re all in apartments except for Junmyeon and Kris,” Yixing points out.
“Yeah, I’m still moving in though,” Junmyeon smiles and 11 pairs of eyes turn to Kris.
“Uh,” Kris looks around the room, caught in the middle of scratching his nose. He slowly lowers his hand and sighs, “Yeah, I guess that’s fine.”
“Cool we have a place then,” Minseok sticks out his tongue as he scrawls Kris’ address on the whiteboard.
“This for the people who don’t know where Kris lives. What time can we show up?”
“Hmm, I guess like 7 or something, I have to clean up,” Kris watches Minseok write. “Also don’t fuck it up too much, it’s still my parents’ place.”
Jongdae sniggers, “Whoa. Wait, you still live in your parents’ house?”
Kris rolls his eyes, “Yes.”
“This is hilarious.”
“Enough.”
“Kris Wu,” Jongdae sweeps a hand across the air. “Basement dweller.”
Kris sinks his head into his hand.
“Kris Wu, still tied to his mother’s apron strings.”
“Tao,” Kris extends a hand. “Please.”
Tao wordlessly pulls out the nerf gun and hands it to Kris.
“Kris Wu,” Jongdae starts, unaware of Kris leveling the gun at his head.
With a resounding pop, Kris sends a bullet into Jongdae’s temple.
“Kris Wu,” Kris places the gun on the table. “Doesn't fuck around.”
“Was that really necessary,” Jongdae glares.
“Evidently,” Kris hands the gun back to Tao.
“Wait, I don’t want this,” Tao frowns and tosses the gun onto the floor, the weapon bouncing a few feet to the left with a few solid smacks to the ground.
“Careful with that,” Kris steps forward, voice cracking. “You might mess up the springs.”
Jongdae and Tao both regard Kris with judging stares.
“What,” Kris stops and looks around.
“Weird,” Yixing mutters.
“Hey guys,” Junmyeon says in small voice. “Do any of you want to change what you’re bringing to the potluck?”
“No.”
“Naw, I’m good”
“Nope.”
“Not really, why?”
“Because according to this list, the only entrée we have is kimchi spaghetti,” Junmyeon frowns. “Otherwise we have chips, salsa, guacamole, five types of
cookies-hey Sehun, you’re going to have to clarify what kind-and a “salad,” wait Jongdae, why is that in quotations…? Whatever. And soda.”
Jongdae raises his hand, “I’ve never made a salad before, and so I feel like that serves as a disclaimer.”
“Dude, you just take lettuce, throw it in a bowl, and mix it around with dressing and shit,” Luhan looks at Jongdae. “Or even easier, just bring lettuce and leave the dressing on the side.”
“You never know what might happen,” Jongdae shrugs. “I could burn it.”
“Okay…then…I think we also need more real food,” Junmyeon looks back at the conference table.
“Naw, that seems about right.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean I can’t cook.”
“If kimchi spaghetti all you guys want to eat, then I guess that’s fine,” Junmyeon frowns.
“Yeah I’m fine with that.”
“Sounds good.”
“Throw a lot of cheese on it Kyungsoo, like last time.”
Junmyeon looks sheepishly at Kyungsoo, “Kyungsoo are you okay with making enough for 12 people?”
“Yeah I guess,” Kyungsoo sighs. “I’ll get someone to help or something.”
“Okay that’s settled,” Junmyeon rubs his forehead. “Holiday party. Tomorrow at 7. Kris’ house. Be there.”
~○~
| holiday party II |
“Whoa. Wait, Kris didn’t say his parents’ house was huge,” Jongdae whispers in awe as Minseok turns left into a driveway, “The driveway is fucking boulevard.”
“He also didn’t tell you his parents don’t actually live here,” Luhan responds from the backseat. “He’s just occupying it to maintain it.”
“Where are they now?”
“Let’s see, it’s December...so I think they’re on their Hawaii leg of their house rotation. Winter getaway.”
“House rotation…what the…how many houses do they have?”
“Including this one? At least five,” Luhan counts off his fingers. “There’s one in Guangzhou, one in Toronto, the Hawaii one, this one, and I can’t remember the fifth one...”
“I think it’s in southern France,” Yixing supplies. “Or something. He goes there every summer.”
“That’s it.”
“What do they do?”
“They’re old money, but maintain it through investments,” Yixing stares at his hand. “His dad is on an executive committee at one of the major companies around here too.”
“Holy shit,” Jongdae marvels, peering out the window. “And holy shit again, we haven’t even reached the actual house yet.”
“Yeah, pick your battles better next time.”
“Holy shit,” Jongdae ignores Luhan, craning his neck to get a better view. “Is that a peacock?”
“Yeah, his name is Alala. He’s a son on of a bitch.”
“Sorry,” Jongdae turns around, eyebrows raised. “Could you repeat that?”
“A la la,” Luhan says slowly. “He’s called Alala.”
“Alala.” Jongdae repeats. “What.”
“Named after the female Greek spirit of the war cry.”
“…Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Fucking weird.”
•
“Okay you guys, we’re going to do the Secret Santa exchange in a moment,” Junmyeon assembles everyone into the foyer.
“Damn Kris, you really went all out,” Yixing admires, glancing the decorations, from the 12-foot Christmas tree, to the lighted garlands woven through the wrought iron stair railing, to the wreath gracing the front door.
“Thanks,” Kris nods, glancing at the garlands and picking out a stray synthetic pine needle and flicking it into a nearby trashcan. “But I didn’t do it, my parents hired a professional decorator.”
“Whoa.”
“Hey,” Luhan glances down, interested, at the package grasped in Chanyeol’s hand, a thin four by three object wrapped more or less neatly in a shiny paper. “Who did you have?”
Chanyeol looks tense, and he glances down at the package before muttering, “Baekhyun.”
“Ah,” Luhan nods. “What did you get him?”
Chanyeol hesitates for a moment, “A visa gift card.”
“That’s…safe.”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol tugs at a section of his bangs. “I didn’t really know what to get him. Does it seem impersonal?”
“It’s useful,” Luhan shrugs.
“I guess,” Chanyeol looks down at the oddly wrapped package nestled in Luhan’s arm. “What’s that?”
“A friendship bracelet kit,” Luhan smooths the tape on a corner. “For Minseok.”
“Sorry, a…what?”
“A friendship bracelet kit.”
“Does Minseok…like making friendship bracelets…?” Chanyeol looks thoroughly confused.
“No idea.”
“…Why then?”
“It’s the gift that keeps on giving,” Luhan beams.
“Huh?”
“When you make a friendship bracelet,” Luhan explains. “You always make them to give away, right?”
“I guess, I mean I wouldn’t really know.”
“So if and when Minseok makes a friendship bracelet, there’s a high chance I’ll receive one,” Luhan shifts the gift in his arms. “You know, either as a thank-you gift or as my standing as friend.”
Chanyeol just shakes his head, “I can’t tell whether this is incredibly self-centered or amazingly ingenious.”
“I just think of it as an investment,” Luhan cheerfully whispers.
“...You would.”
“Okay, everyone,” Junmyeon calls from beside the banister on the second floor. “Exchange your gifts!”
“Wait aren’t we supposed to throw them in a pile or something and then pick them out?” Jongdae squints up at Junmyeon.
“Maybe,” Junmyeon shrugs. “But this will be faster.”
“But it takes out all of the anonymity.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon shrugs again. “But there’s only 12 of us, it wouldn’t be that hard to guess.”
“True.”
•
“Hey Kyungsoo,” Jongin sneaks up behind Kyungsoo and deposits a neatly wrapped package in his arms. “Happy Holidays.”
“Oh, you had me?” Kyungsoo turns around, eyes wide, smile wider. “Thanks, what is it?”
“Season one of Pororo.”
“Wait really...?” Kyungsoo quickly rips off the wrapping and his eyes begin to sparkle. “You’re awesome.”
“Haha.”
•
On the other side of the room, Sehun’s just about ready to deliver his gift. He’s checked his reflection in an ornament about seven times, making sure his hair is neatly slicked back and his collar neatly folded. He takes a deep breath and is just about to take a step towards Luhan-before Minseok cuts in front of him, making a beeline for Luhan.
“Hey, I heard you like friendship bracelets,” Minseok tosses a package-haphazardly bundled in newspaper-into Luhan’s arms.
“Oh, you already knew what I got you?” Luhan dumps his gift into Minseok’s arm in a similar fashion.
“Wait what?” Minseok picks apart the wrapping. “No that’s what I got you.”
“Well this is awkward,” Luhan shakes the wrapping paper loose.
Probably not as awkward as his own situation, Sehun thinks as he shrinks behind the tree, his own gift for Luhan securely behind his back.
“Yeah,” Minseok glances at Luhan’s kit then back to his own. “Well at least there are different colors of string?”
“Hey, wait,” Baekhyun stops next to the pair and points at Minseok. “You had Luhan too?”
“Too?” Minseok looks at Baekhyun then at Luhan. “What do you mean by ‘too’?”
“I bought something for him as well,” Baekhyun looks down at the friendship bracelet kits. “Coincidently, the same gift.”
“Yeah, wait, me three,” Tao waves his present. “Friendship bracelet kits for Luhan?”
“Huh?” Luhan glances confusedly from Tao to Baekhyun.
“Hey, what is this,” Kris frowns, similar sized present in hand, with a big label with for Luhan slapped on the front.
“What the fuck,” both Luhan and Jongdae exclaim at the same time as Jongdae arrives on the scene.
“Okay, Luhan,” Junmyeon sighs, placing his present on Luhan’s growing pile. “Can you explain what happened?”
“Yeah what the fuck did you do?” Kris growls.
“I don’t know,” Luhan throws two hands in the air. “I really don’t.”
“Luhan,” Minseok glowers.
“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on,” Luhan looks down at the pile. “And…are all of those friendship bracelet kits?”
“That’s what I got you,” Jongdae nods.
“Yeah me too,” Junmyeon sighs again.
“Yixing told me you wanted one when I traded name slips with him,” Baekhyun shrugs.
“Wait,” Tao places his gift on the pile. “You too…again?”
“I traded with Yixing also,” Minseok scowls.
Suddenly seven head turn and seven pairs of eyes are trained on a comfortably lounging Yixing on the other side of the foyer.
“What’s up you guys?” Yixing smiles cheekily. “I had Kris.”
“What the fuck man,” Luhan nudges the pile with his toe. “Though I have to admit it’s a good setup.”
“How did you do it,” Jongdae stares in wonderment.
“It was easy, I just offered to trade with over half the office and planted fake slips.”
“Yixing,” Jongdae shakes his fist.
“The best part was, it worked. I kind of can’t believe this”
“I think this calls for a lesson,” Kris strips off the wrapping on Yixing’s gift to him, revealing a two-foot long nerf gun. He swiftly rips it out of its packaging, quickly stuffing the darts into the magazine.
“HOLY SHIT,” Yixing jumps out of his chair and hides behind it just as Kris begins raining fire.
“Now why would you get him that,” Chanyeol moans, burying his head in his hands as darts wiz overhead. “That thing is called Rapid Fire-that should be enough to tell you it’s a bad idea.”
“We all make mistakes,” Yixing yelps as he abandons his post and runs to the other side of the foyer, ducking and weaving as Kris chases after him.
•
“Hey.”
Luhan looks up from his perch on the bottom step of the foyer’s staircase and is greeted by the site of Sehun, arms hugging something behind his back.
“What happened to your gifts?” Sehun gestured towards the area the pile had previously been occupying.
“They took them back and distributed them among themselves,” Luhan sighs. “Though I guess it’s okay, I don’t really like making friendship bracelets.”
“Well,” Sehun pulls a gift out from behind his back, a sizeable, brightly wrapped cube-like box, and drops it lightly on Luhan’s lap. “Happy Holidays.”
“Did you get my name from Yixing too?” Luhan shakes the box skeptically. “And is this a really large friendship bracelet kit?”
“No,” Sehun plops down next to Luhan, leaving a few inches between them. “To both.”
“Huh,” Luhan unwraps the package, revealing a UEFA Euro 2012 match soccer ball. “Wow.”
“I heard you liked soccer,” Sehun nervously shifts. “So…”
“Wow. Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Luhan looks, with wide eyes, down at the ball and back at Sehun. “Aren’t these really expensive?”
“I have connections,” Sehun avoids Luhan’s gaze.
“Wow,” Luhan repeats, then after a second thought. “Do you play?”
“Play what?”
“Soccer.”
“No.”
“Hmm,” Luhan thinks for a moment. “Do you want me to teach you?”
“Would you?”
“Yeah, good ol’ mentor-mentee bonding,” Luhan ruffles Sehun’s hair, and Sehun slides back a bit, hands defensively shielding his hair.
“Yeah,” Sehun combs a few strands back into place. “That sounds nice.”
They lapse into a silence, basking in the glow of the lit Christmas tree, the various baubles and ornaments reflecting and refracting light, creating sparkling patterns on the shining marble. And Luhan finds it somewhat comfortable. It’s the first time in while that they’ve sat this close, and Luhan, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, likes it.
Maybe it’s the light, but somehow Sehun looks more mature today. But it could also be the dress shirt Sehun has on, or neatly tied tie around his neck. But there’s also something about his face, and Luhan realizes this is the first time he’s stopped and really took in Sehun’s features.
Sehun, Luhan thinks dimly, heart thudding a little faster, is attractive.
“Oh, mistletoe,” Sehun points upwards, and Luhan follows his gaze towards the little green offender hanging innocently from the balcony.
And somehow that breaks the spell. It’s a little too fast for Luhan, and he’s a little too sober, and Sehun’s eyes are a little too serious, and he’s sitting a little too close, and it’s a little too warm, and Luhan’s nerves are a bit too jittery, and Sehun’s still a little too young, and under that mask of maturity is the same derp from the office, and Sehun still can’t code for his life, and Luhan doesn’t really know why that matters, and there are a hundred and one other reasons why this isn’t the time. And so just as Sehun’s eyes are about to close, and just as he’s about the tip forward, Luhan intercepts Sehun with a brusque hug instead, thumping Sehun’s back solidly with a few curt pats.
“Hey guys,” Yixing walks out with a bag of red solo cups. “So I located a ping pong table…”
Luhan takes it as his cue to leave.
“Thanks for the gift,” Luhan whispers into Sehun’s ear, and quickly slides out of the hug, striding away before he can see Sehun’s expression, mind racing with a thousand thoughts per second, heart racing at a million beats per a minute.
Because Luhan can see himself falling for Sehun.
He can see it.
(And a tiny, minute, almost unnoticeable part of him is.)
•
“So,” Yixing stands on top of a chair. “Does everyone know how to play beer pong?”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol wrinkles his nose. “But you might want to explain your version.”
“Good idea,” Yixing hops down and gestures at the triangular formation of cups on both sides of the table. “So each team starts out with six cups-“
“Isn’t it 10,” Minseok interjects.
“Six to ten,” Kris waves Minseok off. “We’re going with six though, to make the games go faster.”
“And the goal is to get one of these,” Yixing holds up a ping pong ball and points to the solo cups. “Into those. They’re filled a third of the way with beer, and if your opponent lands a ball into one of the cups, you drink the contents of that cup and remove the emptied cup from the table. You win when eliminate all of your opponents cups.”
“Are we playing with bounces?” Jongdae raises a hand.
“Yeah,” Yixing bounces the ping-pong ball against the table. “Also, teams of two, tournament-style. In addition, since we have minors and drivers here, we’ll alternate team members every point, but designate one person to drink.”
“Doesn’t that diminish part of the game?” Tao asks.
“Yeah but we don’t want people to die. Also wait, how would you know?” Yixing frowns. “So anyway, Jongin, you’ll be with Kyungsoo, and Sehun, you’ll be with Luhan, and Tao, I keep forgetting you’re a minor, I guess you’ll go with Kris-they’ll drink for you guys.”
Kris stands up, “Everyone else just find someone and let’s start.”
•
The prelims are brutal, Chanyeol notices after a fairly quick shutdown match against Junmyeon and Jongdae (in ten minutes the end score was 6:2). Of course he knew Baekhyun would be the best teammate (and damn, his shots were accurate), though he was starting to get worried over the fact that Baekhyun was looking tipsy after two cups.
He had offered to be the designated drinker, and it would have made sense given his height and his high tolerance levels. But Baekhyun wouldn’t have any of it, citing the fact that he’d like to get home in once piece that night, and he wasn’t about to drive Chanyeol’s car (Chanyeol couldn’t quite catch all of what Baekhyun muttered after that, other than don’t want to crash, rising insurance, jean cutoffs, and that is one motherfucking winding road we have to get down).
Of course, Baekhyun looked a lot better off than Junmyeon, who was collapsed in a collapsed pile of giggling fits in the corner, clutching the foot of a barstool, with a semi-concerned and hovering Jongdae right next to him.
“Hey Jongdae, has anyone told you hehe that you look like a ehe pineapple…ehhe?”
“No, I can’t say I’ve ever heard that, and you’re really drunk.”
“That’s…ehhe...good because you don’t. I eheh think you’re more like a banana hehe instead. Or a walnut. Yeah, hehe a walnut.”
“…What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”
Though, Chanyeol was still worried. Because the winning teams had all had similar scores (Jongin and Kyungsoo smashed Kris and Tao six to nothing, and Minseok and Yixing had doled out a solid 6-3 victory over Luhan and Sehun). In the following round, competition would be anything but easy.
“So,” a slightly red-faced Yixing tapped the table. “Since we have three teams left, we’ll decide it with a round robin. Also, we’re ramping up the cup number to 10. Team with the most wins…wins.”
“Nice Asian-glow,” Kris remarked from the sidelines.
“Shaddup,” Yixing glared. “You’re like a fucking stop light compared to me.”
Luckily for Chanyeol, the other two teams square off first, and it ends as a fast-paced 15-minute victory for Kyungsoo and Jongin, a narrow 10-8 win over the passed out Yixing and preoccupied Minseok hauling Yixing to the side. Chanyeol is slightly shaken-there were few misses. But by luck of the draw, they decide Yixing is incompetent to compete, and the finals will be held between Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Jongin.
“You ready?” Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun smiles, eyes slightly unfocused.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Chanyeol strides over to the table.
“Call heads or tails for first shot,” Kris fumbles with a quarter.
“FFFUCKIN’ HEADS.”
Chanyeol whips around and is greeted by the sight of a bright-red Kyungsoo banging his fists against the table.
“FUCKIN’ HEADS, JUS’…hic…TOSS THE DAMN THING MOTHERFUCKER,” Kyungsoo demands, throwing another fist onto the table surface.
“Damn, angry drunk,” Luhan whispers loudly. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Uh, okay,” Kris flips the coin and it lands on tails. “First shot goes to Baekhyun and Chanyeol.”
“DAMMIIIT,” Kyungsoo lightly head-butts Jongin. “Sorry…Jongin. I let you down…man.”
“It’s okay,” Jongin awkwardly pats Kyungsoo’s head. He looks around before he hesitantly asks, “Would it be okay if I drank this round? I’m not sure he can get through another cup. I’ll crash at someone else’s house until I’m sober so my parents won’t figure out.”
“Sure,” Chanyeol readjusts the cups on his side of the table. “Hey Baekhyun, do you want to switch too?”
“Nawp,” Baekhyun waves. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” Chanyeol takes aim, one eye scrunched closed and tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth. “You guys are going down.”
•
“Holy shit, it’s 9-9,” Minseok marvels from the sideline.
“First one to make it in while the other one doesn’t wins,” a recently revived Yixing mumbles.
Chanyeol can feel the sweat roll down the side of his face as he steadies the ping-pong ball, making a few practice throw motions, before releasing the ball. He panics for a moment, when the ball falls a few inches short of where he was aiming, but by some miraculous virtue, extra spin or force he must have put unknowingly, he’s rewarded by a satisfying splash of ball in cup.
Now it was all up to Jongin to miss. Chanyeol notices he was tottering slightly as he walked up to the table, eyes having a difficult time staying focused on the cup.
“YOU CAN FUCKIN’ DO IT,” Kyungsoo shouts. “WOOOOOOO.”
After a moment more of hesitation, Jongin tosses, ball bouncing over the net and onto Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s side, flying directly toward the cup-and misses by mere centimeters, skirting the table and bouncing onto the floor.
“We won,” Chanyeol mumbles in disbelief, and turned around to lock eyes with Baekhyun, arms raised in triumph. “WE WON.”
“Wooohoooo!” Baekhyun cheers unfocusedly, eyes slipping into happy, crescent slivers.
“Dammit,” Kyungsoo pouts and slouches next to Jongin.
Jongin slips an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist in a drunken movement and hiccups, “My bad.”
“S’ok,” Kyungsoo leans his head against Jongin’s shoulder, eyes sliding shut, not noticing Jongin’s hand sliding under shirt.
But Chanyeol does, and he kind of notices how Jongin’s pretty drunk, and his eyes are a bit darker, how he seems to be moving his hand intentionally, how his hand is gripping Kyungsoo’s wrist now, and he’s dragging Kyungsoo away somewhere around the corner, and, well, Chanyeol only ‘kind of’ notices because he’s got other things on his mind, like-
“Hey,” Chanyeol calls to Kris. “Do we get anything for winning?”
“Uh,” Kris’ eyes shift around. “Bragging rights?”
“Good enough,” Chanyeol turns to beam at Baekhyun and abruptly stops because Baekhyun’s three inches away from his face.
And suddenly-“I love you Chanyeol,” Baekhyun mumbles as he clumsily wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and leans in.
And it doesn’t really matter that the kiss tastes like cheap beer, or how Baekhyun ends almost right after it begins, or how it kind of hurt because their teeth clash together, because a kiss is a kiss is a kiss, and Chanyeol’s lips are pleasantly tingling, and his heart is racing, his mind has stopped, and Baekhyun initiated it and not him, and it’s got to mean something, and-
“I lurve you Minseok, I lurve you Jongdae, I lurve you Luhan, I lurve all you guys,” Chanyeol heard Baekhyun mumble loudly (drunkenly) before he hears a large splash, and turns around to see Minseok and Jongdae helping a soaked Baekhyun out of the pool.
“He’s smashed,” Minseok nudged Baekhyun lightly with the back of his hand. “He’s not going to remember anything when he wakes up.”
And maybe those things do matter a bit, because alcohol talks.
But, Chanyeol brings a hand to his lips, the tingling sensation refuses to go away, and the heartbeats in his chest refuse to slow. It’s got to mean something.
At the very least, it’s a start.
•
“Hey Jongdae,” Luhan does his best to ask innocently. “Do you want to go grab some towels from the bathroom? We need to clean up the water Baekhyun tracked in.”
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall, to the right.”
“Sure.”
“Hey, we have some right here,” Kris points to the corner.
“Yeah, I know,” Luhan pulls out his wallet.
Suddenly Jongdae reappears without a towel in hand and much paler than he was a second ago.
“How was it?” Luhan does his best to ask innocently again as Jongdae flops down at the table.
“You bastard,” Jongdae whips out his wallet and throws $300 on the table.
“Oh what’s this?” Luhan feigns surprise.
“You were right,” Jongdae groans as he sinks his head between his arms. “At the very end of the second week, and they’re drunk out of their minds, but dammit you were right. But I didn’t need to see.”
“Wait, is this what I think it is?” Kris asks, brows furrowing.
“Yeah, pay up,” Luhan waggles his fingers.
“Fuck,” Kris swears as he throws $50.
“I don’t believe it,” Minseok mutters as he tosses three crisp twenties.
Chanyeol sighs as he places a wrinkled $100 near Luhan at the same time Tao rolls his eyes and lays $40 in an unsorted bundle of fives and tens.
“No way,” Yixing gasps as he places a quarter on the stash of bills.
“Wait I didn’t bet against you,” Luhan frowns. ”But I’ll keep that.”
“Yeah you didn’t, I just felt like joining in,” Yixing takes back the quarter.
“Wait,” Jongdae glances up at Luhan, confused, and gestures at the money. “What is all of this?”
“Well this,” Luhan separates $300 into one pile and pats it. “Came from you.”
“Okay.”
“Then these,” Luhan sweeps up the rest. “Came from me, betting on you, walking in on them.”
“You bastard,” Jongdae's jaw drops.
“No, no I assure you I’m a legitimate child,” Luhan smiles as he scoops his winnings into his wallet.
“Screw you,” Jongdae snatches a twenty out of Luhan’s hand.
“Hey, give that back,” Luhan grasps wildly in the air.
“No,” Jongdae pockets the bill. “This is a compensation fee.”
“For what?”
“Gallons of some sort of cleaning agent,” Jongdae scrubs at his face. “I need to clean-no, fucking purge-my eyes after seeing that.”
~○~
On the next episode of Office Antics…
Luhan attempts to teach Sehun how to play soccer.
“OKAY,” Luhan shouts above the gale and the torrential rain. “I’M GOING TO KICK IT.”
“YOU KNOW WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO LEARN,” Sehun yells, tiptoeing in slushy mud and a cheap plastic poncho. “I KIND OF MEANT WHEN IT WAS SUNNY OR SOMETHING. NOT IN 30-BELOW WEATHER AND IN THE MIDDLE OF A STORM.”
“WHAT I CAN’T HEAR YOU,” Luhan cups a wet hand to his ear, clutching a soccer ball in his free arm.
“I SAID,” Sehun tries again. “CAN WE PLAY WHEN IT’S SUNNY?”
“WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO PLAY WITH SUNNY,” Luhan shouts. “SHE’S TERRIBLE AT SPORTS.”
“NO I SAID WHEN THE WEATHER’S BETTER,” Sehun pauses for a moment, fruitlessly wiping water from his eye. “AND WAIT GIVE ME A MINUTE.”
“YOU SAID KICK IT?”
“NO, NO, GIVE ME A MINUTE.”
“I’M GOING TO KICK IT, GET READY.”
“NO, NO, STOP, OH FUC-“ Sehun sinks to the ground, nether regions severely in pain.
“SORRY,” Luhan yells as he jogs over to Sehun. “You should have told me to wait.”
“Ugh,” Sehun, crumpled on the ground, can only manage to groan.
•
Chanyeol copes with the help of Kris.
“My life sucks,” Chanyeol mopes, head lulling in his chair.
“Oh, I know,” Kris mutters without glancing up.
“Thanks.”
“I’d really hate to be you,” Kris continues.
“Oh, okay,” Chanyeol frowns.
“Like, not even kidding.”
“Okay, it’s getting old.”
“Like," Kris looks up. "If I were given three wishes, one of them would be to not be you.”
“Really.”
“Yeah, and the second one would be for a fucking good sandwich.”
“What the fuck?”
"What?"
"Why would you waste a wish on a sandwich?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"I don't know," Chanyeol swivels around. "Like for many, many reasons."
“It's achievable, and delicious. I like to keep my wishes realistic,” Kris adjusts the crease on his collar. “But then, I’d wish for three more wishes, so I’d be okay.”
~◙~
|| episode 6 bonus ||