If anything can go wrong, it will (for jazzalion)
Title: If anything can go wrong, it will
For: jazzalion
Word count: 9400
Rating: NC17
Summary: Yifan and Yixing weren’t exactly expecting their wedding to turn into a live implementation of Murphy’s Law, but today is their special day and nothing will ever stop them. Maybe.
“Yifan, man, we have a problem.”
Yifan has been best friend with Chanyeol for more than ten years. They were like, the tall, totally cool dudes who liked to rap and be taller than anyone else and they sort of gravitated towards each other during trainee days and before Yifan could be able to have a say in this matter they were debuting together and they were best friends. Of course, Tao, Jongin and Sehun are also tall rappers, but they’re the maknaes, and in Yifan’s mental hierarchy map, in the band they’re the children of the family, while Chanyeol stands on Yifan’s same level despite the age difference and Yifan’s leader status.
Being Chanyeol’s best friend is easy, because Chanyeol is an easy person. You can just relax and be yourself, and Chanyeol will think about the rest. He can easily switch into the hyperactive puppy mode when you’re sad and you want to feel worshipped and loved. Then comes the cool, handsome model mode when you want to casually stand in a corner and let girls stare at you but you need a companion or you’ll just look dumb. And also the mature, responsible ‘let me take care of it’ mode when life is full of problems, your bandmates are a bunch of kids and you need to rely on him to keep them in check. The best thing about Chanyeol is that he reads into the situation and reacts accordingly, and you can just expect him to have everything under control. The perks of being the only son of very ambitious and clever parents, think Yifan, prepared Chanyeol to be one of the most practical and reliable member of EXO, though he usually hides it behind his killer smile and seemingly dumb and innocent air.
The problem is, Yifan has known Chanyeol for enough time to be aware that if his best friends come to him with his ‘serious business’ face, claiming there’s a problem, the solving of said problem is probably out of everyone’s league, and that means that Yifan’s marriage is absolutely fucked.
“What problem?” he carefully asks, tripping over the pants of his suit as he hastily tries to put them on, finally surrendering and leaving them at their own destiny on the floor. To hell with it, he’ll just pronounce his votes half-naked. Joonmyeon, who should have helped dressing him up, has been closed in the toilet for forty minutes now. And if hearing his best man’s retching sounds coming from under the bathroom doors it’s not enough, realizing his own incapacity to dress for his own marriage by himself is making Yifan feel really regretful that the staff of the strip club had decided to serve free drinks during his bachelor party.
His second best man, guiltily frowning in front of him and looking absolutely miserable despite the significant amount of BB cream he used to conceal the signs of last night guzzling, looks at him with a panicked expression. “I can’t find the rings anywhere.”
“You lost my wedding rings?”
Ok,thinks Yifan, scratching anything he’s thought a few minutes ago about Chanyeol and reliability and trusting him to solve any problems. Right now, the only thing he wants is to wrap a big hand around Chanyeol’s throat and choke the rings out of him, but he has to focus on more pressing matters first.
Chanyeol looks like absolute shit, but Yifan must look even worse now, if even Joonmyeon, who has finally emerged from the bathroom greener than their hotel’s musky wallpaper, whistles at the sight. “My friends, remind me to never drink again.”
“You said that at your own bachelor party, and at Baekhyun’s birthday three months ago. And every time you drink, actually,” answers Yifan absent-mindedly, still trying to wrap his mind about the fact that he’s supposedly getting married in a few hours and his best friends managed to lose the rings because he was too hangover, never mind the fact that the other best man can barely stand straight due to the barely three tequila shots he had drunk the previous night before passing out on the chest of a Brazilian ballerina.
“Then why do you always let me drink?” whines Joonmyeon, and Chanyeol has the nerve to laugh and answer with a cocky “You’re pretty violent while you’re drunk, hyung. I’d never come between you and the booze.”
“You, shut up!” interrupts Yifan, and Chanyeol switches again into guilty puppy mode.
“I looked everywhere, I swear. I really don’t know where are the rings, Fan, please don’t kill me.”
Joonmyeon, who still looks like he’s trying and failing so hard at standing upright, frowns. “I thought you’d given the rings to the blonde stripper because you wanted to see her secret show with the whip.”
“Shut up, how would you know? You were already passed out on the floor at that time, don’t believe him, Yifan, you know he was way too drunk to remember anything.”
Yifan blinks. “Did you give my rings to the Russian stripper?”
A knock on the door interrupts their staring session, and Baekhyun is suddenly making his entrance dressed in a pale blue suit and honey blonde locks, looking fresh and well rested. There’s no resemblance with the boy who improvised a lap dance on the club stage the night before, completely trashed after having taken part to not one, but two stag parties.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties. Ugh, maybe not so beauties. Yifan, what are you doing? You only have three hours of freedom left and you’re not even wearing your pants.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m wearing my pants or not, because this idiot here has lost our wedding ring, so I can’t marry Yixing anyway.”
He doesn’t care if he sounds slightly hysteric, and Joonmyeon running to the bathroom for the third time doesn’t help either.
Baekhyun turns towards Chanyeol. “What are you talking about? I have it, you dumbo.”
He tosses the package to a stunned Chanyeol before dropping a bag of painkillers right on the floor of Yifan’s hotel room. “Make sure Joonmyeon is able to attend, I have to argue with the wedding planner again in behalf of your fiancé because Jongdae has called to say that there’s too much pink, pink everywhere, and I’m going to kill someone if it’s actually true. I really don’t have the time to deal with our leader’s morning sickness. The pregnant one is his wife, not him, and she wouldn’t like to see her responsible husband in this pitiful condition.”
Baekhyun’s ringtone, the soundtrack of a very famous horror film, manages to scare everyone and the boy is out of the door in a flash, checking his watch and reluctantly screaming directions for the wedding location to an equally annoyed Kyungsoo.
The three men in the room can only gulp nervously.
Chanyeol’s grip on the rings tightens, as he blearily remembers shoving the same velvet package into the pocket of the stripper’s jeans before they fell behind the stage in a drunken, uncoordinated kiss.
“You mean Baekhyun was the Russian dancer?”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Xing? Get out of there!”
“No,” whines Yixing for the umpteenth time, “I can’t, I really can’t, Han, what am I doing?”
“You’re freaking out, obviously,” comes Zitao’s unabashed answer from the other room. “I’m surprised you lasted this long, I mean, you’ve been so calm over this marriage thing… You didn’t even drink at your stag party. I heard from Beef-hyung that Yifan-ge basically drowned his last night of freedom in alcohol, and both Chanyeol and Joonmyeon are still wasted.”
“How did Baekhyun know? Wasn’t he with us yesterday?” asks Lu Han, stilly trying to lure Yixing out of the closet. The only response he gets is a clothes hanger stabbing him under his armpits. He rolls away cursing against Yixing and his stubbornness.
“He got a call from Jongin and when he knew that Chanyeol was drunk enough to kiss the pole and dance with it he bailed out on us. But he said he has potentially humiliating photos of Yifan making out with the couch thinking it was Yixing and that he’ll show it in a slideshow during your speech, hyung. To make up for his betrayal.”
Lu Han groans, Yixing starts to wail. Baekhyun chooses that exact moment to enter the room, tossing the guilty photos right at Zitao, who even stops posting his selcas with Yixing’s wedding suit to squeal and look at the spoils of war. Those photos won’t make it until Lu Han’s speech, not if Zitao has a wifi connection. His weibo followers will get them first.
“See? That’s what I’m talking about? I can’t go out there and face Yifan. He’s perfect, the man of my dreams, and I’m a failure. Even my best man prefers to go to his bachelor party than stay with me at mine. I’m an atrocious ball of uselessness.”
Yixing keeps blabbering and hiccupping incoherently.
Lu Han’s accusing gaze is too much to take even for Baekhyun, who quickly kneels in front of the closet to pat Yixing reassuringly but only gain the pointy end of the clothes hanger in his gut. Lu Han, at least, seems satisfied. Moving backwards to a safer position, out of Yixing’s reach, Baekhyun furiously whispers into the other’s ear, “What did you make him drink?”
“Oh, come on, it was only a sip, he was too nervous and he kept having breathing problems. His grandparents are still stuck at the airport for a national security issue.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“There was a suitcase switching case, and Grandma Zhang found herself with twenty pounds of drugs in her hands. They have already cleared the misunderstanding, but she needs to stay there until they finish checking her visa again, and they’ll probably won’t be there before this afternoon.”
Baekhyun rubs his temples tiredly. “I can’t believe it. But still,” he adds, looking pointedly at one of the grooms, trying to blow his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit, “you shouldn’t have given him anything. You know he’s a lightweight.”
Lu Han sighs dejectedly, “I know, I know, but-”
“Like Yifan, Chanyeol and Joonmyeon already nursing their hangovers weren’t enough. Now both of the grooms are wasted.”
Something’s missing, they look at each other funnily, trying to place exactly what’s wrong. The room is silent, not even Yixing’s sobbing can be heard anymore. Yixing. Yixing opens the closet and looks at Baekhyun as if he’s seeing a ghost. His face is all red and wet, and his nose is blotchy but he’s still cute and endearing in his strange Yixing way.
“Baekhyun,” he says with the most panicked expression that a soon-to-be-wed has ever worn, “if you’re here, who’s at the wedding location to convince the wedding planner to change those horrible pink placeholders?”
“And you drive like a drunkard! Out of the car, both of you!”
Taemin looks like he wants to protest that this is his own car, he drives the way he fucking prefers, and Kyungsoo will have to kill him and wear his skin as a trophy before he can start to tell him what to do because Taemin is a senior and Kyungsoo is his dongsaeng, so he should just shut up. Unfortunately, Kyungsoo had been practicing the menacing speech he’s going to give the wedding planner in the car, with both him and Jongin, for twenty minutes, and he’s as murderous as ever. Their eyes meet for a long, tense moment. Kyungsoo seems ready to take down a lion with his bare hands. SHINee’s maknae is out of the car and taking Kyungsoo’s packed suit with him before Kyungsoo even has to ask. Jongin meekly follows them, asking himself what evil creature was possessing him when he had agreed to give Kyungsoo a lift to the wide estate Yifan and Yixing have chosen for their wedding ceremony.
It should’ve been Baekhyun, really, it’s his duty as Yixing’s best man, but the other vocalist is too busy trying to make everyone else looking decent and ready for the event. Jongin has been at Yifan’s bachelor night at the strip club, thank you, so he can guess the awful condition of everyone who was present at that party. He’s only safe because his ride was Taemin, and Taemin was wise enough to leave the party when Baekhyun jumped on the stage and started to strip. An ancient wisdom he had gained through the four stag parties of his own band members. Well maybe five, since Kibum and Jonghyun were dumb enough to have their stag party on the same club for the first two times, and they ended up being jealous, fighting about the strippers and calling off the marriage before finally getting things straight. Or queer, in their case.
Kyungsoo marches like a soldier on a mission through the rooms, before finally arriving in the banquet’s hall, where a beaten Jongdae is being educated by the wedding planner on the topic of different shades of pink. Now, Yifan and Yixing had agreed a long time ago and without discussions, it was one of the few topics they hadn’t fought about to be honest, that they absolutely didn’t want to see pink at their wedding. Taemin understands it very well. He was casted in that same commercial film for Etude House with his own group, after all. Every SM group has probably dressed in pink lace and danced in a pink cloud of cheese and pink face powder to promote for that pink cosmetic brand, and there’s an unspoken pact that no one of SM idols will ever have pink in his marriage. Ever. Yifan and Yixing are only the last of a long pink-abhorring tradition.
Their wedding planner probably didn’t get the memo because the banquet hall seems like a giant Polly Pocket house adorned in various, equally disgusting, shades of the offending colour. Jongdae seems about to faint. He squeals in delight when he sees the rescue team.
Kyungsoo stops in front of the wedding planner, who’s wearing a pink cocktail dress that matches the colour of the flower bouquets scattered around the room. She looks down on him, really looks down, with those heels she’d be able to look down on Chanyeol, and she throws an annoyed glance to Jongin and Taemin, in their casual clothes, face bare and wearing shades to cover the tired signs of idol life. Then she asks, in her ridiculous high-pitched voice, “Who the hell told the catering staff to come here earlier, and why is this one so short?”
Kyungsoo smiles evilly at her, unfazed. Jongdae look towards Jongin and Taemin, asking for support, for someone who stops Kyungsoo from killing this woman, for a bottle of brandy, anything. He should’ve just accepted Yixing’s offer to be his best man. Then Baekhyun would’ve been here, in his place. Baekhyun would’ve been able to stop Kyungsoo, at least, from mauling the pink-obsessed wedding planner. Granting that he didn’t jump at her neck first at the sight of the banquet hall on the verge of a PTSD fit. They did force him to dress in an enormous meringue-shaped pink female Victorian dress for that CF, after all.
Yifan is proud of himself. He’s won the battle for decency with his clothes and he’s now a perfectly fine, respectable groom. Chanyeol looks human, Joonmyeon has stopped puking long enough to call his wife and assure her that he’s still alive, and the two of them have announced their return in the world of the living by actually gluing the rings to the velvet cushion in order to avoid every possible jewellery disappearing incident. They still haven’t figured it out how to unglue them from said cushion, and Yifan hopes they manage to do it in time for the vows, when he and Yixing will actually need to wear the rings. But there’s still time for that. For the first time since this dreadful morning has started, he can finally take a sigh of relief. He’s marrying Yixing in two hours. The thought seeps into his still dazed mind. He’s marrying Yixing in two hours.
“Please stop with the creepy smile, before Yixing decides you’re too psycho and dump you at the altar.”
Trust Chanyeol to ruin the moment.
“There’s no altar, Chanyeol, they’re not marrying in a church,” adds Joonmyeon, adjusting Yifan’s tie with expert hands and picking a blonde hair standing out on the black fabric of the jacket.
“The lack of altar won’t change your sad destiny of old bachelor. The smile has to go.”
Chanyeol’s phone rings, SNSD’s ‘I Got A Boy’ filling the room, and Chanyeol hesitates to answer because he recognizes the song. This is Baekhyun, and he’s still not over kissing his former roommate the previous night because they’ve broken up more than three years ago and things are still awkward.
“Chanyeol, for god’s sake, give it to- Hello, Baekhyun, what’s the problem?”
His two best men slowly watch their groom becoming paler and paler, his angry eyebrows corrugating to the point they’re almost touching, until Yifan looks strangely like a cartoon angry villain.
“I’m on my way.”
He tosses Chanyeol his own phone and takes his jacket. “You two, make sure to reach the ceremony hall and help Jongdae to avoid the brutal murder of the wedding planner. And Baekhyun says not to give Jongdae the keys to the drink stack, only half of this group is still sober, let’s try not to make the percentage of rational people fall even more.”
“Where are you going, then?”
“I have to talk with my boyfriend. Baekhyun says he wants to dump me at the altar.”
Yifan’s hands are big and warm. There was a time when Yixing used to escape his touch, loathing the trail of warmth they left on his heated skin. He hated the way those long, thick fingers were able to encase his waist making feel trapped. More than anything, he hated himself, for he couldn’t escape the delirious fever that assaulted his mind whenever Yifan’s breath hit his sweaty skin after practice, before his bandmate, his leader, his friend, took his hand and pulled him away from the mirror to rest on the bench. He always tried to talk himself into thinking that he felt dizzy because of the fatigue, and not because the world never failed to spin too quickly whenever Yifan was in sight.
It’s been years, and now he’s hiding in a closet, too scared to go out and face his future life. What was he thinking when he had agreed to marry Yifan?
“Why didn’t you stop me, Han?” he cries, knowing too well that his best friend would’ve never stopped him. Lu Han enjoys his married life way too much to advice anyone against it. They’ve been friends for so many years they can always guess what the other is thinking. Just like Lu Han had been the first to pick up on the suspicious tension that seemed to impregnate the air every time Yixing and Yifan were in the same room, Yixing had been the first to notice when his best friend’s dream had switched from being a famous idol to being able to marry a famous idol (despite being one himself).
And marry they had, after the longest and most extenuating legal battle with SM lawyers, Lu Han had extorted their boss the right to finally, finally put a ring on Kim Minseok’s hand. It had been the most scandalous wedding in the history of Korean pop industry, even more than the multiple attempts of the Kim JongKey couple.
Lu Han doesn’t answer Yixing’s pleas, but he tries to force the closet doors open, again. Yixing grabs the nearest clothes hanger, ready to defend himself if necessary. No one will ever be able to pull him out of this closet, no one.
“Go away I SAID!” he shouts, hitting Lu Han’s head with the improvised weapon. Except it’s not Lu Han the person who falls over him in an uncoordinated tangle of legs, arms and expensive, tacky clothes.
“Wow, this reminds me of our first kiss, in EXO-M’s closet, back at Beijing’s dorm.”
Time has passed, and Yifan’s voice has lost the edge of his teen years, becoming softer but also deeper, warm and intense like chocolate. The effect on Yixing is the same, though. Everything is spinning, but Yifan’s arm around him keep him still and safe.
“Our first kiss wouldn’t have even happened if you weren’t so,” he struggles to find the perfect word as Yifan’s mouth run over his neck, covering the skin with heated kisses, “clumsy.”
Yifan’s laugh against his ear makes him shiver.
“I have a confession to make, though,” the closet is too little for them, Yixing wants to throw his hands around his boyfriend’s shoulders and touch, squeeze, pull him closer, “that day I never tripped. I actually feinted.”
“Oh, really? You purposefully fell on me?”
“I fell for you, Xing.”
Yifan is the cheesiest ball of cheese ever, and maybe that pink concept Jongdae was screaming about on the phone is actually the right one, at least it matches with his future husband’s personality.
Yixing’s hands are trapped under the weight of fashion, but he can still kiss Yifan, parting his little pink lips with his tongue and biting on the upper one just for the thrill of making Yifan gasp and melt over him.
Then something clicks and he detaches their lips, almost whining at the loss of contact. Yifan follows him but doesn’t dive to steal another kiss.
“You shouldn’t be here. The groom isn’t supposed to see the…”
“Bride? Are you calling yourself my bride, Yixing?
“…other groom,” glares Yixing, “before the marriage starts. What are you doing here?”
Yifan pouts.
“Baekhyun said you wanted to dump me at the altar.”
Yixing reddens, trying to put some space between him and Yifan, but the other boy clings to him, hides his head in Yixing’s neck teasing the skin with his teeth, and holds tight. It’s the perfect summary of their relationship, after all, Yixing running and Yifan chasing.
He’s struggled against his leader’s attentions for a long time. From the first, devouring zap of energy creeping down his back at Yifan’s brief introduction during training days, and every time he felt his appreciative look on himself, he had simply run, too afraid to be consumed by this toxic attraction. And Yifan had run after him. It’s not an accommodating person, his boyfriend. Yifan is stubborn, endearingly persistent. Yixing knew he was already screwed from that first, fateful yes. Not to marriage, not to being lovers, not to sex, not to a kiss, Yixing felt the hand of fate falling over him from the first time he had accepted to go out and drink sometimes with Yifan. From down there had just been an endless fall, with no going back because every time he tried to put some distance between them, to slow down the vortex of emotions that only Yifan’s kisses could cause, Yifan just had to stretch one of those enormous hands of his and catch him again.
He’s still not answering but at least he’s in Yifan’s arms, and he’s learned that Yifan can wait forever for his words, content with just holding him in silence. They don’t have forever, though, the ceremony is in… He pushes is very-soon-to-be-husband away, almost breaking his nose.
“The wedding hall, an hour, we…”
“Please breathe Xing, like this, breathe.”
He does, feeling Yifan’s fingers drawing relaxing circles on his hand. Breathe in, breathe out.
“I’m going to kill Lu Han. Soju before your marriage? What was he thinking?”
“He told me he helped with him. Turned out he totally freaked out too, before he did the big deed.”
Baekhyun’s obnoxious voice breaks the moment, “Hyung, have you managed to get Yixing out of the closet,” he thinks about it, “again?”
“Ahah, Baekhyun, you’re so funny.”
“Sure I am. Your car is there, you have to go in first.”
Yifan pulls out with a last kiss and tries to get up. This time is Yixing the one who goes after him. He hides his face in Yifan’s shoulder, so broad he feels like it could protect him from any danger, and whines.
“Yifan, what if it’s not destiny? Everything’s going wrong! We’re all drunk, the concept of the marriage is pink and ribbons, Baekhyun is allergic to pink, Kyungsoo has already threatened to kill the wedding planner twice and Baekhyun is probably going to help him, no one has heard from Minseok, Sehun and the kids yet, and my grandparents have been arrested for smuggling. I don’t think that this marriage is meant to be, not today at least and…”
Yifan silences him putting a finger on his trembling lips. “I love you, Zhang Yixing, and I’m going to marry you today. Nothing will stop me.”
Minseok is the nicest. Joonmyeon is strict, but fair. Chanyeol’s weakness are puppy eyes, but he never takes bullshit. Baekhyun is annoying, but he secretly spoils his kids like no one else. Lu Han is the type who doesn’t give a fuck, the most likely member to cover the maknae’s crimes. Kyungsoo is evil, but definitely corruptible. Yifan pretends to be a cool leader, but he’s very easy to make fun of him. Jongdae is simply fluffy.
Minseok is the nicest. Quiet and easy-going, he’s usually an almost-Lu-Han-type. He doesn’t pay too much attention to the little ones in the group, and when he does it’s usually to cuddle, never to reprimand them. It doesn’t feel like he’s really the oldest. Sehun doesn’t remember a time when Minseok has abused of his senior power, but his age shows in his calm, mature demeanour, contrasting with the amazing baby face he’s managed to keep despite having already being more than ten years from their debut.
“Sehun-ah, where are my daughters?
Sehun gulps because Minseok is still smiling, and it’s not Joonmyeon’s psycho smile or Kyungsoo’s almost-tasting-your-screams-of-pain smile. It’s a Minseok smile, sweet, caring, almost shy. Like Minseok doesn’t believe Sehun’s words and he’s only expecting his two children to jump on him from behind a corner because it’s only a joke, only it’s not a joke and Sehun starts to sweat in his elegant suit.
“I can explain. I was talking with the manager about a security problem and they were there, I swear, they were playing in the middle of the aisle-”
“Sehun-ah, where are my daughters?”
The smile is more forced now, and Sehun feels like he’s ended up in a twisted parallel dimension where Minseok’s evil twin is going to kill him if he doesn’t find the little girls in a few minutes.
Jongin arrives just in time to save his head, or testify his beheading, it depends on Minseok’s mood and right now Sehun has little hope about his destiny.
“Hyung, you’re here! Please come, Kyungsoo is wrestling with the wedding planner on the main table of the banquet hall, and Jongdae is on the verge of crying…”
Sehun instinctively moves towards the exit, because a crying Jongdae is like an omen of bad luck and he needs to be immediately comforted and stuffed with biscuits and cake and maybe they can spare one of the smallest cakes made for the wedding banquet for the noble purpose to save Jongdae’s (and everyone else’s, because a sad Jongdae is a contagious Jongdae) mood.He’s stopped by the iron hold of Minseok’s hand on his arm, and Minseok may be little and fluffy but he’s actually stronger than Sehun and he’s cutting his blood circulation and it hurts.
“I don’t think so,” he says with a snarl, scaring even Jongin,” now you’re going to search every corner of this place until you find my dear kids, and you’re going to help him.”
“What? Why me? He’s the one who lost your kids, hyung!”
“I don’t care. Lu Han is going to be here in forty minutes, if you haven’t found his spawn before the marriage begins I’m going to tie you with a rope and leave here with him until only your bones remain. You know he’s very protective towards the babies, right? I suggest you start now.”
As Minseok runs away to avoid the celebration of a funeral in place of a marriage, Jongin gulps and says faintly, “I always thought that the scary one was Lu Han.”
Sehun can’t believe he’s still got a possibility, his entire life has passed in front of him I the last five minutes. “Now I have no doubts. They’re really made for each other.”
Chanyeol pull on his necktie, trying to widen the suffocating knot that’s pressing on his throat and making it difficult to inhale, exhale. Next to him, Yifan is having a hysteric fit.
“Did they find them?”
“Still searching,” usefully provides Joonmyeon as he runs through the aisle and reach them, taking place between Chanyeol and Yifan and scanning the guests until he finds his wife.
“Please don’t do that, you’re even creepier than Yifan,” pleas Chanyeol, but Joonmyeon doesn’t seem to be listening to him, and he even blows a kiss to the pregnant woman. She raises the chubby baby she’s holding, moving the little hand in a greeting gesture. Chanyeol gives his best retching sound impersonation, but Joonmyeon cuts him, “Look, he’s making bye-bye to his daddy, how cute.”
“No,” answers Chanyeol, “he’s sending an SOS message to his uncle because you and my sister are crazy and gross and he wants me to save him.”
“I’m a little worried for her, she said she didn’t feel very well.”
Yura blows another kiss to Joonmyeon, and Chanyeol silently wonders why didn’t he try for YG instead.
It seemed too strange to just wait for Yixing at the end of the aisle and let him do the catwalk on the red carpet, like Zitao had jokingly said, alone, so they’re at the door, and the two grooms will be walking down the aisle together, hand in hand. That’s the plan, except Yixing’s car is nowhere in sight.
Yifan is now mumbling incoherently, but it’s just his third freak out in twenty minutes. Looks like Yixing has infected him with his nervousness or something, and everything is going to hell.
Well, at least we have the rings, reasons Chanyeol, looking at the red cushion that Zitao and Sehun were supposed to bring together to the wedding couple, except Zitao is with Yixing, and they’re later than late, and Sehun is probably busy being tortured by Minseok because he lost the children. Chanyeol files a mental note never to leave his nephew, or any future child, in the hands of their maknae.
The guests are already there. Yixing and Yifan wanted a familiar gathering, with only a few friends and family members. Familiar faces from the entertainment world are peering from the side aisles, more from Yifan’s side than Yixing’s, but only because Yixing has invited a lot of family members. There are a few empty seats, Yixing’s grandparents and one of the managers, still blocked at the airport. Jongdae is breathless, but there, pulling with himself a wild Kyungsoo who stills hold in his tiny, lethal hand a piece of pink fabric.
Minseok is waiting for his husband, looking worried as hell. They’ll probably run away to join the search party as soon as Lu Han arrives, but if they’re lucky Sehun and Jongin will arrive with the children in a few minutes and everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.
Inhale. Exhale. He puts a hand on Yifan’s shoulder and he hopes it looks reassuring.
The car arrives, and he takes a long moment to guiltily appreciate the sight of Baekhyun before Yixing gets out of the car and steals the spotlight from everyone else. It’s definitely his day, and he’s a vision in his white suit. Yifan has drunkenly confessed to him that the big fight in March, the one that lasted for three weeks, blew up because Yifan had the guts to ask Yixing to wear a white dress at the wedding. He probably doesn’t mind the lack of gowns now, seeing that he’s shamelessly gawping, looking very much like he hasn’t seen Yixing in months and he’s ready to jump him in front of everyone else.
Their eyes meet, they smile like they’re the happiest men in the world. It’s not perfect but it’s their day. Nothing can really go wrong now.
Everyone starts to whisper at once, the wedding march begins.
When Yifan pushes him into their room, Yixing’s suit is already coming undone. Yifan’s hands have already started to unbutton the white shirt and were harshly pulling on the jacket when they were running on the stairs, hoping to escape from all the people who wanted to talk with them.
They’re not really in the mood for dealing with their guests. At least there’s still the cake. Cake is always the solution. It’s such a good idea, really, he doesn’t even care if he sounds slightly illogical because after a morning like the one they’ve just been through he has the right to be incoherent, if he wants. So he tells Yifan, whispers against his lips between kisses, feeling the way his lover drinks on his words.
“Cake is always the solution, Yifan.”
“Do you think I can fuck cake like I’m going to fuck you?”
Something pokes at his legs, and no, cake definitely cannot ease the hunger in Yifan’s belly. Yixing feels the outline of Yifan’s cock, straining hard against the front of his pants, and wonders how everyone else managed not to notice it before, but maybe everyone else was just too distracted.
“I don’t know, want me to fetch one of the wedding cakes so you can give it a try?”
Yifan laughs in response, slips his hands into Yixing’s white pants and just touches, fingers pressing into the flesh to haul Yixing up, forcing him to secure his limbs against him if he doesn’t want to fall.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
They still feel drunk and giddy all over, and they have tons of things to worry, everyone being still downstairs, for example, and someone could come up looking for them any moment now, and there are a lot of children still running around the place and they could destroy their innocence forever, and-
“You’re thinking too much,” says Yifan tenderly, as soon as he manages to walk them to the four-poster Victorian bed and let Yixing fall on the pillow with a soft ouch. The clothes are still on, but despite the furious want in his veins, Yixing stills again to let Yifan trace his bottom lip with his tongue before opening his lip and welcoming him in.
Their bodies shift, pressing their erections together and he whines in Yifan’s mouth before he lets himself fall on the mattress again, pulling his lover down with him.
Yifan does the chase, Yixing turns his face and runs away from his mouth, scratching at his shirt to urge him, “Please, please, just pull it off.” Yifan complies, but tears at Yixing’s white shirt until some of the buttons fly away, hastily undoing the others and letting it falls on the floor to keep company to his own.
“You have no idea, you just,” Yixing gulps, even if it’s Yifan who’s having problems to talk right now, “When I saw you standing there, in white, Xing, white looks so good on you… I should’ve just listened to my fucking mind and forced you to come in a white dress. That would’ve been a real shock to the guests.”
“Yes, like Minseok’s daughter falling from the balcony into Jongin’s arms wasn’t shocking enough.”
Yixing can barely move, Yifan’s weight pinning him down on the bed, the friction on his cock delicious, but not enough. He can only impatiently tugs at Yifan’s pants, hoping he’ll get the hint.
“If a bomb had exploded right in the middle of the hall I wouldn’t have even noticed, because I was too busy looking at you and dreaming about the moment I could’ve finally, finally got you out of your pants…” He only pauses to drop his pants on the messy heap of clothes they’ve formed on the floor, deciding then to attack Yixing’s. “And that moment is right now.”
Yixing’s appreciative moan is easily swallowed by Yifan’s mouth, while they leave their hands free to roam over sensitive skin. “You’re so pale,” sighs Yifan on his neck, trailing kisses down his neck, “so pretty.”
Yixing tightens his legs on Yifan’s sides, forcing him down on his cock and thrusting up to meet him halfway. The solid expanse of Yifan’s back is his lifeline, as he slides on the silky sheets when Yifan drives hard against him.
He hears him curse in English, “Fuck, wait, Yixing, we have to stop.”
He whines, feeling all the desire pooled down in his belly clawing at his body to make it move against Yifan. “Why?” he manages to spit in the end, when Yifan pin his body down to stop the mindless rutting. Yifan’s breath stop harshly when he looks down at him, and Yixing knows he looks a mess, all splayed over the expensive duvet, naked, sweaty and wanton.
Yifan has to press their forehead together, closing his eyes to erase the sinful image in front of him and concentrating only on the warmth of Yixing’s skin to pull himself together.
“I don’t have anything,” he confesses airily, diving down to plant a kiss on Yixing’s neck.
“You don’t?” is the incredulous answer. “Who are you and what have you done to the love of my life?”
Yifan’s hair is dark again, and too long, the messy fringe falling to cover his eyes, but Yixing doesn’t miss on the slight blush on his cheeks. “I thought you would’ve been mad at me if you found out I had married you with lube in my suit pocket.”
And he’s so cute, too cute, Yixing can’t believe he’s managed to snatch this man and now he can have him, all of him, for himself. This strong, beautiful man who makes Yixing feels safe and protected when he’s caged in his arms, this caring, lovely boy who’ll never stop trying for Yixing, and he’s able to blush so prettily just because he’s been caught being considerate and mindful of someone else’s feelings. He feels a lump in his throat, because he wants to belong to Yifan as much as Yifan already belongs to him.
“Silly,” he says, disentangling their bodies and pushing Yifan away, “check my suit pocket.”
Yifan throws an incredulous look back at him. “Did you come to our marriage with lube in your suit pocket? I can’t believe it. Who are you and what have you done to the love of my life?”
Yixing relaxes, leaning back on his elbows and spreading his legs to make space for Yifan. The lube is cold on his heated skin, but the gesture are so familiar he doesn’t do more than shiver and push against Yifan’s fingers for more, despite the mild pain. He knows what’s next, he can take this.
“It was Lu Han,” he admits, trying to distract himself from the fingers probing inside of him, “after I wore the suit. He said that I was so sexy that a pervert like you wouldn’t have likely been able to keep his cock out of my ass for the entire length of the ceremony, and he wanted to save my bottom the discomfort of having to bear with your flaming passion. Looks like he was right, doesn’t it?”
Yifan scoffs, but mentally thanks Lu Han anyway. Thanks to his meddling he can now have Yixing all laid out like a feast only for him, while he doubts that he and Minseok will have much time to fuck, considering that they’ll be forever be busy watching over their offspring like overprotective hawks from now on.
Yixing shifts when Yifan inserts the third finger, trying to get him to graze that spot deep inside. He won’t last enough, all of the anxiety and fears bottled inside his stomach demand an immediate explosion, and he feels oversensitive and tingly all over. He urges Yifan to move and just stick it inside of him with whines and angry strokes of long guitarist nails on his shoulder. “Can you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.”
“Now!” he says, and Yifan complies, pulling his fingers out of him and making a show of cleaning them on the duvet to piss Yixing off.
“You’re an ass,” he tries to say, but the air is knocked out of his lungs as Yifan is leans in between his legs and aligns his lubed cock with Yixing’s opening. The slide in is never smooth, because Yifan is too caring and takes it slower than it’s necessary, stroking Yixing’s stomach and sides as he sink inside, and if he’s still lucid enough to try and go all gentleman over him, it can only mean that Yixing is doing it wrong.
His legs cling to Yifan’s chest like ivy, and he makes pressure with the back of his heels to finally be able to shove Yifan down and deep for good, mewling at the sensation.
“Can you fuck me like you mean it, please?”
“You’re so feisty today… What happened to my sleepy, quiet Yixing? The docile one, I mean.”
“He’s annoyed, frustrated and fucking tired of everything, including your shit. Yifan, if you don’t move right now…”
He tries to thrust up, to force Yifan to move, anything, but Yifan’s eyes shoot to his hips to hold him down.
“Hang on there, cowboy, I don’t want you to be all hurt and limping in front of the guest. What will your mother think?”
“That you’re doing it right, you freakin-” he moans abruptly at the feeling of Yifan’s hand on his own cock. He knows this is really out of character, a side of him that Yifan hardly gets to see. He rarely gets so impatient during sex, leaving the whole sexual frustration department to Yifan. In fact, he actually enjoys being pampered and gently held like he’s made of glass, knowing that his boyfriend is willing to wait for him to be ready, until he’s sure he’s not hurting him in any way, makes the experience of sex feel way more enjoyable. Yifan makes him feel loved, always.
But today he feels on a fucking race, and he can barely see the ending line but he’s not able to reach it, because Yifan is slowing him down.
“Relax, Xing, you’re too tense. Don’t make me hold you down and fuck you even slower than you deserve.”
Except he’s already doing it. The hand on his cock is so big, it almost envelopes it entirely, but Yifan’s giving him nothing more than light strokes on his cock and subtle, barely there thrusts inside him. It manages to make his head spin despite not being enough to send him over the edge.
“Weddings make me tense,” he spits, and moves to touch his cock with impatient hands, but Yifan traps them in his hold and snarls at him.
“Can you please calm down a little? I’m getting there, I swear. Now stay still and let me do this right.”
He purposefully clenches his walls on Yifan’s erection and Yifan gasps, hips faltering a little and hitting deeper inside of him. Yifan lets go of his hands and hips at once, and Yixing is coming up to smash their mouths together, hands pulling at Yifan’s hair and hips thrusting forward, until they’re impossibly close and every thrust just makes him closer.
The heady weight of Yifan’s cock barely brushes against his prostate, and Yixing finds himself crying loudly, because this isn’t enough, this is maddening and he wants more moremore.
The orgasm hits him unexpectedly and almost painfully, his insides clenching tightly around Yifan as he comes messily in his hand. He’s still sensitive and quivering all over when Yifan finds his own release, sealed by a messy kiss and a declaration of love.
“What did go wrong?” asks Yixing as they lay in bed, when the panting has subsided letting space to satisfied purring and lazy kisses. The demanding, needy side Yifan had never seen him showing so strongly until now is gone, washed away with the orgasm, and it’s amazing to see how quickly Yixing has reverted to his cuddly, fluffy self.
“You mean, what didn’t go wrong. I personally think that one of our best moment was when I realized that all of our best men were gone.”
Yixing mumbles thoughtfully. “Well, Lu Han was justified. I would’ve done the same if I knew my kids were gone like that. Sehun is lucky nothing happened to the little pests. If they were hurt, or something else, I don’t even want to think about it. You know Lu Han’s always had a soft spot for him, but I doubt he would’ve let him live it down if his precious children had an accident because he didn’t watch them closely enough.”
“I’d strangle the kids, instead. Thank God the older one was intelligent enough to understand that you’re not supposed to jump from the second floor in the middle of a wedding just because you think it’d be funny.”
Yixing laughs, “And thank God that the little one has a crush on Jongin and jumped right in his arms.”
“Joonmyeon had his problems too, you know?” continues Yifan, referring to Yura’s impromptu waters breaking, right in the middle of the aisle, coupled with screams and Joonmyeon fainting. Chanyeol and Yixing’s mother were at her side in a second, and aided by the other women and Joonmyeon, woken up by Kyungsoo with a powerful slap on his pace and still pale as a ghost, they had managed to bring her outside while someone called for an ambulance.
“I’ve never seen Joonmyeon that scared, not even when there was that scandal with Jongin and drugs and Jongin was crying all the time and we thought they were going to disband us.”
They’re silent for a minute, thinking back to the turning point of their careers. They could’ve fallen at that time, just because of a nasty rumour turned in something more, and they still remember the long reunions back at the SM buildings, hushed talks of putting the group on hiatus. Yifan was always nervous, everyone was on the edge, but Joonmyeon had it the worst, even if it was Jongin under accuse.
Yixing traces Yifan’s chest with his fingers, revelling in the faint marks his mouth has drawn there before. “Chanyeol went to the hospital with his sister and brother-in-law, but I still don’t understand why and where did Baekhyun go.”
“Xing, Chanyeol never went to the hospital. He and Baekhyun started to argue while we walked along the ceremony hall, and I think they were already gone when Minseok had to stop Lu Han from punching Sehun.”
“What? Baekhyun and Chanyeol? Since when?”
Yixing jumps on top of him, naked legs falling around Yifan’s hips, and it isn’t fair the way his body reacts with in interested flair of pleasure at the sensation. “It’s been three years already, I thought they were finally over this phase. Yifan, what happened? Tell meeee!”
He has to trap Yixing’s hand in his grip, physically restraining him if he wants to avoid the probing of deft, sneaky fingers. Yixing bites his hand and he’s free, threatening to tickle Yifan to death if he doesn’t obtain an answer.
“Ok, come on, wait, I’ll tell you. Chanyeol may have kissed Baekhyun at my bachelor party because he thought he was a blonde Russian stripper. And Baekhyun may have let him, because he was more sober than we thought. And maybe they’ve been texting all morning except that it turned into sexting and then into angry sexting and Chanyeol confessed me that they never discussed their previous break out so they had unfinished business.”
“Oh.”
“But, you know, we could’ve married without them. I mean, it’s just a thing between us, so nothing would’ve even mattered. I mean, I would’ve married you in the middle of all that chaos, with Jongdae treating Sehun’s wounds after that brawl with Minseok and Lu Han and everyone gasping when they found out that Kyungsoo was having a secret affair with the wedding planner since Jinki-hyung’s marriage. I would’ve still married you.”
Yixing sighs, resting his head on Yifan’s chest and listening to his heart. “I would’ve married you too, if it was only a matter of our friends being stupid and basically just them being, them, you know?”
Yifan nods. It isn’t like they weren’t expecting things to end up like this, and in the end their marriage could’ve been a little lively, yes, but nothing unmanageable.
They were ready to fight for their right to pronounce those votes, even in the middle of all the confusion and the chaos. They just didn’t expect things to get even worse.
“I wasn’t expecting the sasaengs,” he confesses in Yixing’s hair. “I could’ve married you on the verge of death, but I couldn’t let them take even this from us, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Xing, because I had sworn to you, this morning, that nothing would’ve stopped me.”
His voice sounds broken even to his own ears, but Yixing just smiles and kiss him, sweet and comforting. “That was a little too much to handle.”
And it’s terribly unfair, because they wanted to do this, they still want. There’s no rethinking or doubts, hidden underneath the anxiety they were sure. They’re in love.
“I love you,” he says. Yixing answers, “I love you too.”
Zitao shouts, “I love you both,” from behind the door, and the moment is broken.
“What the hell do you want, Taozi?”
Zitao knocks obnoxiously, “Are you naked? I’m going to enter!” and before they can tell him that yes, they’re very much naked, he’s already opening the door and gaping at them and running away screaming of his poor eyes and lost innocence.
They exchange an exasperated look, before starting to put their clothes on and going down to see what’s the problem, now.
When Lu Han barges into their room they are busy adjusting their crooked ties between quick kisses, and he wastes no time in throwing a judging look at their wrinkled shirts and Yixing’s missing buttons.
“Don’t mind having just corrupted the innocence of my little sweeties,” he says, referring to the three years old angel with ponytails curled up in his arms and her slightly older sister who’s clinging to her daddy’s legs like ivy and giggling because “Uncle Fan and uncle Xing were making love.”
The adults in the room pale when they hear the words, and Yifan asks himself exactly how much subtle are Lu Han and Minseok in front of their daughters when they cuddle. But then the kids proceed to blow each other exaggerated kisses and make retching faces and Lu Han is quick to send them to uncle Jongin, who’s surely dying to play with them. They run away with excited screams.
“Because it’s a good idea to run in the room of a honeymoon couple with your innocent little sweeties, right?”
“Oh, shut up Yifan, no one cares what you think anyway. And actually this is not your honeymoon because you aren’t married yet.”
“Thanks for the reality check, Han,” sighs Yixing.
His best friend shrugs. “I just wanted to say that Yixing’s grandparents are here, everyone is dressed and sober and Joonmyeon called saying it’s a girl. He’s already on his way here with Chanyeol’s mom and Suho Junior. Yura and the new baby can’t obviously make it, but she sends her best regards.”
They look at him like he’s speaking in a foreign language.
“So?” asks cautiously Yixing, trying to urge Lu Han to get to the point.
“So, if you’ve finished rolling into your sheets for everyone who wants to go the bathroom to hear, security has solved the problems with the uninvited guests. They’ve cleared the place, it should be safe now. The guests are still here, and Kyungsoo and the wedding planner have just rescheduled the ceremony to be, like, in forty minutes.”
Yifan feels Yixing’s hand in his own, holding tight.
“You mean we can really…” he tries, but Lu Han snatches a still dumbfounded Yixing away from him and starts dragging the poor boy away.
“I’m sorry Benben, but the groom can’t really see the bride before the wedding, so I’m afraid I have to steal my best friend from you for the next hour, before you steal him from me for the rest for your lives.”
The door closes behind Yixing’s grumpy “I’m not a bride!” and Yifan stares at it, still struggling to catch on with the news.
He’s marrying Yixing in less than an hour. He’s marrying Yixing. In less than an hour. He needs to find Chanyeol.
Joonmyeon arrives at the last moment, wearing his dumbest smile and quickly accepting congratulations from everyone before taking his place at the end of the aisle next to Chanyeol. Chanyeol doesn’t even notice the arrival of his brother-in-law, too busy smiling at Baekhyun, and blushing, and then staring again, and Baekhyun looks like all the pink of the world never bothered him anyway.
“I thought Baekhyun would’ve freaked out when he found out that you’re dating the pink wedding planner. You know, his allergy to pink is really,” his voice drops, “serious. You have a stain of lipstick on your neck by the way, right here. And it’s pink.”
Kyungsoo sends a devious smirk towards Zitao, who’s still staring at the giggling couple of idiots like he’s missing something. “Oh, I think Chanyeol’s magic dick healed him. You know, since they were able to do it on the main table of the banquet hall without any hysteric pink-related fits.”
Zitao pales. “I ate on that table.”
Jongdae laughs and Kyungsoo just beams evilly. Sehun, as Zitao’s best friend, tries to comfort him with a pat on his back, but he can’t help but stare at Baekhyun and Chanyeol and ask, “How much will they last this time?”
“I don’t know,” comments a placid Jongdae, “but they can’t count on me anymore to be their comforting fuck buddy when they blow up like a Chinese firecracker. Again,” he adds, as an afterthought.
Sehun leans his injured cheek, Lu Han really has a killer punch, on Jongdae’s shoulder and smiles shyly.
“What happened with the two of you?” inquires a suspicious Kyungsoo, still scratching his neck to hide an obnoxious pink lip-gloss stain.
“Nothing,” answers Sehun, “just Jongdae finally admitting that I’m his favourite maknae.”
Jongdae reddens, but doesn’t fight Sehun’s hold on his hand.
“I must find myself a girlfriend before all of the rainbows flying in this group makes me gay too,” jokes Zitao, making kissy faces at an annoyed Sehun.
“Oh, Taozi,” is his best friend’s evil answer, “you spend all of your time looking at yourself in the mirror. That makes you pretty gay too.”
Zitao chokes and prepares to jump over Sehun, but Minseok and Jongin choose that exact moment to join them, the latter holding both of the little girls in his arms, and the fight dies before it can even start. The children waves towards their other daddy, who’s running to reach Baekhyun’s side and wait for the wedding couple there.
“Do you have the rings?” he mouths alarmed towards Sehun and Zitao. There’s a moment of general panic, until Lu Min, the second princess of Lu Han and Minseok’s household, takes the velvety pillow with the still glued wedding bands out of her sister’s colourful backpack. They all heave a sigh of relief.
Yixing and Yifan arrive, just holding hands. It’s a mess, but it’s still their day. It’ll be alright.
Everyone starts to whisper at once, the wedding march begins.
“Yes, I do.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You can kiss the groom.”
(And they lived happily and peacefully ever after, at least until Jongdae, Baekhyun, Zitao and Lu Min started to fight for the bouquet.)
For: jazzalion
Word count: 9400
Rating: NC17
Summary: Yifan and Yixing weren’t exactly expecting their wedding to turn into a live implementation of Murphy’s Law, but today is their special day and nothing will ever stop them. Maybe.
“Yifan, man, we have a problem.”
Yifan has been best friend with Chanyeol for more than ten years. They were like, the tall, totally cool dudes who liked to rap and be taller than anyone else and they sort of gravitated towards each other during trainee days and before Yifan could be able to have a say in this matter they were debuting together and they were best friends. Of course, Tao, Jongin and Sehun are also tall rappers, but they’re the maknaes, and in Yifan’s mental hierarchy map, in the band they’re the children of the family, while Chanyeol stands on Yifan’s same level despite the age difference and Yifan’s leader status.
Being Chanyeol’s best friend is easy, because Chanyeol is an easy person. You can just relax and be yourself, and Chanyeol will think about the rest. He can easily switch into the hyperactive puppy mode when you’re sad and you want to feel worshipped and loved. Then comes the cool, handsome model mode when you want to casually stand in a corner and let girls stare at you but you need a companion or you’ll just look dumb. And also the mature, responsible ‘let me take care of it’ mode when life is full of problems, your bandmates are a bunch of kids and you need to rely on him to keep them in check. The best thing about Chanyeol is that he reads into the situation and reacts accordingly, and you can just expect him to have everything under control. The perks of being the only son of very ambitious and clever parents, think Yifan, prepared Chanyeol to be one of the most practical and reliable member of EXO, though he usually hides it behind his killer smile and seemingly dumb and innocent air.
The problem is, Yifan has known Chanyeol for enough time to be aware that if his best friends come to him with his ‘serious business’ face, claiming there’s a problem, the solving of said problem is probably out of everyone’s league, and that means that Yifan’s marriage is absolutely fucked.
“What problem?” he carefully asks, tripping over the pants of his suit as he hastily tries to put them on, finally surrendering and leaving them at their own destiny on the floor. To hell with it, he’ll just pronounce his votes half-naked. Joonmyeon, who should have helped dressing him up, has been closed in the toilet for forty minutes now. And if hearing his best man’s retching sounds coming from under the bathroom doors it’s not enough, realizing his own incapacity to dress for his own marriage by himself is making Yifan feel really regretful that the staff of the strip club had decided to serve free drinks during his bachelor party.
His second best man, guiltily frowning in front of him and looking absolutely miserable despite the significant amount of BB cream he used to conceal the signs of last night guzzling, looks at him with a panicked expression. “I can’t find the rings anywhere.”
“You lost my wedding rings?”
Ok,thinks Yifan, scratching anything he’s thought a few minutes ago about Chanyeol and reliability and trusting him to solve any problems. Right now, the only thing he wants is to wrap a big hand around Chanyeol’s throat and choke the rings out of him, but he has to focus on more pressing matters first.
Chanyeol looks like absolute shit, but Yifan must look even worse now, if even Joonmyeon, who has finally emerged from the bathroom greener than their hotel’s musky wallpaper, whistles at the sight. “My friends, remind me to never drink again.”
“You said that at your own bachelor party, and at Baekhyun’s birthday three months ago. And every time you drink, actually,” answers Yifan absent-mindedly, still trying to wrap his mind about the fact that he’s supposedly getting married in a few hours and his best friends managed to lose the rings because he was too hangover, never mind the fact that the other best man can barely stand straight due to the barely three tequila shots he had drunk the previous night before passing out on the chest of a Brazilian ballerina.
“Then why do you always let me drink?” whines Joonmyeon, and Chanyeol has the nerve to laugh and answer with a cocky “You’re pretty violent while you’re drunk, hyung. I’d never come between you and the booze.”
“You, shut up!” interrupts Yifan, and Chanyeol switches again into guilty puppy mode.
“I looked everywhere, I swear. I really don’t know where are the rings, Fan, please don’t kill me.”
Joonmyeon, who still looks like he’s trying and failing so hard at standing upright, frowns. “I thought you’d given the rings to the blonde stripper because you wanted to see her secret show with the whip.”
“Shut up, how would you know? You were already passed out on the floor at that time, don’t believe him, Yifan, you know he was way too drunk to remember anything.”
Yifan blinks. “Did you give my rings to the Russian stripper?”
A knock on the door interrupts their staring session, and Baekhyun is suddenly making his entrance dressed in a pale blue suit and honey blonde locks, looking fresh and well rested. There’s no resemblance with the boy who improvised a lap dance on the club stage the night before, completely trashed after having taken part to not one, but two stag parties.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties. Ugh, maybe not so beauties. Yifan, what are you doing? You only have three hours of freedom left and you’re not even wearing your pants.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m wearing my pants or not, because this idiot here has lost our wedding ring, so I can’t marry Yixing anyway.”
He doesn’t care if he sounds slightly hysteric, and Joonmyeon running to the bathroom for the third time doesn’t help either.
Baekhyun turns towards Chanyeol. “What are you talking about? I have it, you dumbo.”
He tosses the package to a stunned Chanyeol before dropping a bag of painkillers right on the floor of Yifan’s hotel room. “Make sure Joonmyeon is able to attend, I have to argue with the wedding planner again in behalf of your fiancé because Jongdae has called to say that there’s too much pink, pink everywhere, and I’m going to kill someone if it’s actually true. I really don’t have the time to deal with our leader’s morning sickness. The pregnant one is his wife, not him, and she wouldn’t like to see her responsible husband in this pitiful condition.”
Baekhyun’s ringtone, the soundtrack of a very famous horror film, manages to scare everyone and the boy is out of the door in a flash, checking his watch and reluctantly screaming directions for the wedding location to an equally annoyed Kyungsoo.
The three men in the room can only gulp nervously.
Chanyeol’s grip on the rings tightens, as he blearily remembers shoving the same velvet package into the pocket of the stripper’s jeans before they fell behind the stage in a drunken, uncoordinated kiss.
“You mean Baekhyun was the Russian dancer?”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Xing? Get out of there!”
“No,” whines Yixing for the umpteenth time, “I can’t, I really can’t, Han, what am I doing?”
“You’re freaking out, obviously,” comes Zitao’s unabashed answer from the other room. “I’m surprised you lasted this long, I mean, you’ve been so calm over this marriage thing… You didn’t even drink at your stag party. I heard from Beef-hyung that Yifan-ge basically drowned his last night of freedom in alcohol, and both Chanyeol and Joonmyeon are still wasted.”
“How did Baekhyun know? Wasn’t he with us yesterday?” asks Lu Han, stilly trying to lure Yixing out of the closet. The only response he gets is a clothes hanger stabbing him under his armpits. He rolls away cursing against Yixing and his stubbornness.
“He got a call from Jongin and when he knew that Chanyeol was drunk enough to kiss the pole and dance with it he bailed out on us. But he said he has potentially humiliating photos of Yifan making out with the couch thinking it was Yixing and that he’ll show it in a slideshow during your speech, hyung. To make up for his betrayal.”
Lu Han groans, Yixing starts to wail. Baekhyun chooses that exact moment to enter the room, tossing the guilty photos right at Zitao, who even stops posting his selcas with Yixing’s wedding suit to squeal and look at the spoils of war. Those photos won’t make it until Lu Han’s speech, not if Zitao has a wifi connection. His weibo followers will get them first.
“See? That’s what I’m talking about? I can’t go out there and face Yifan. He’s perfect, the man of my dreams, and I’m a failure. Even my best man prefers to go to his bachelor party than stay with me at mine. I’m an atrocious ball of uselessness.”
Yixing keeps blabbering and hiccupping incoherently.
Lu Han’s accusing gaze is too much to take even for Baekhyun, who quickly kneels in front of the closet to pat Yixing reassuringly but only gain the pointy end of the clothes hanger in his gut. Lu Han, at least, seems satisfied. Moving backwards to a safer position, out of Yixing’s reach, Baekhyun furiously whispers into the other’s ear, “What did you make him drink?”
“Oh, come on, it was only a sip, he was too nervous and he kept having breathing problems. His grandparents are still stuck at the airport for a national security issue.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“There was a suitcase switching case, and Grandma Zhang found herself with twenty pounds of drugs in her hands. They have already cleared the misunderstanding, but she needs to stay there until they finish checking her visa again, and they’ll probably won’t be there before this afternoon.”
Baekhyun rubs his temples tiredly. “I can’t believe it. But still,” he adds, looking pointedly at one of the grooms, trying to blow his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit, “you shouldn’t have given him anything. You know he’s a lightweight.”
Lu Han sighs dejectedly, “I know, I know, but-”
“Like Yifan, Chanyeol and Joonmyeon already nursing their hangovers weren’t enough. Now both of the grooms are wasted.”
Something’s missing, they look at each other funnily, trying to place exactly what’s wrong. The room is silent, not even Yixing’s sobbing can be heard anymore. Yixing. Yixing opens the closet and looks at Baekhyun as if he’s seeing a ghost. His face is all red and wet, and his nose is blotchy but he’s still cute and endearing in his strange Yixing way.
“Baekhyun,” he says with the most panicked expression that a soon-to-be-wed has ever worn, “if you’re here, who’s at the wedding location to convince the wedding planner to change those horrible pink placeholders?”
“And you drive like a drunkard! Out of the car, both of you!”
Taemin looks like he wants to protest that this is his own car, he drives the way he fucking prefers, and Kyungsoo will have to kill him and wear his skin as a trophy before he can start to tell him what to do because Taemin is a senior and Kyungsoo is his dongsaeng, so he should just shut up. Unfortunately, Kyungsoo had been practicing the menacing speech he’s going to give the wedding planner in the car, with both him and Jongin, for twenty minutes, and he’s as murderous as ever. Their eyes meet for a long, tense moment. Kyungsoo seems ready to take down a lion with his bare hands. SHINee’s maknae is out of the car and taking Kyungsoo’s packed suit with him before Kyungsoo even has to ask. Jongin meekly follows them, asking himself what evil creature was possessing him when he had agreed to give Kyungsoo a lift to the wide estate Yifan and Yixing have chosen for their wedding ceremony.
It should’ve been Baekhyun, really, it’s his duty as Yixing’s best man, but the other vocalist is too busy trying to make everyone else looking decent and ready for the event. Jongin has been at Yifan’s bachelor night at the strip club, thank you, so he can guess the awful condition of everyone who was present at that party. He’s only safe because his ride was Taemin, and Taemin was wise enough to leave the party when Baekhyun jumped on the stage and started to strip. An ancient wisdom he had gained through the four stag parties of his own band members. Well maybe five, since Kibum and Jonghyun were dumb enough to have their stag party on the same club for the first two times, and they ended up being jealous, fighting about the strippers and calling off the marriage before finally getting things straight. Or queer, in their case.
Kyungsoo marches like a soldier on a mission through the rooms, before finally arriving in the banquet’s hall, where a beaten Jongdae is being educated by the wedding planner on the topic of different shades of pink. Now, Yifan and Yixing had agreed a long time ago and without discussions, it was one of the few topics they hadn’t fought about to be honest, that they absolutely didn’t want to see pink at their wedding. Taemin understands it very well. He was casted in that same commercial film for Etude House with his own group, after all. Every SM group has probably dressed in pink lace and danced in a pink cloud of cheese and pink face powder to promote for that pink cosmetic brand, and there’s an unspoken pact that no one of SM idols will ever have pink in his marriage. Ever. Yifan and Yixing are only the last of a long pink-abhorring tradition.
Their wedding planner probably didn’t get the memo because the banquet hall seems like a giant Polly Pocket house adorned in various, equally disgusting, shades of the offending colour. Jongdae seems about to faint. He squeals in delight when he sees the rescue team.
Kyungsoo stops in front of the wedding planner, who’s wearing a pink cocktail dress that matches the colour of the flower bouquets scattered around the room. She looks down on him, really looks down, with those heels she’d be able to look down on Chanyeol, and she throws an annoyed glance to Jongin and Taemin, in their casual clothes, face bare and wearing shades to cover the tired signs of idol life. Then she asks, in her ridiculous high-pitched voice, “Who the hell told the catering staff to come here earlier, and why is this one so short?”
Kyungsoo smiles evilly at her, unfazed. Jongdae look towards Jongin and Taemin, asking for support, for someone who stops Kyungsoo from killing this woman, for a bottle of brandy, anything. He should’ve just accepted Yixing’s offer to be his best man. Then Baekhyun would’ve been here, in his place. Baekhyun would’ve been able to stop Kyungsoo, at least, from mauling the pink-obsessed wedding planner. Granting that he didn’t jump at her neck first at the sight of the banquet hall on the verge of a PTSD fit. They did force him to dress in an enormous meringue-shaped pink female Victorian dress for that CF, after all.
Yifan is proud of himself. He’s won the battle for decency with his clothes and he’s now a perfectly fine, respectable groom. Chanyeol looks human, Joonmyeon has stopped puking long enough to call his wife and assure her that he’s still alive, and the two of them have announced their return in the world of the living by actually gluing the rings to the velvet cushion in order to avoid every possible jewellery disappearing incident. They still haven’t figured it out how to unglue them from said cushion, and Yifan hopes they manage to do it in time for the vows, when he and Yixing will actually need to wear the rings. But there’s still time for that. For the first time since this dreadful morning has started, he can finally take a sigh of relief. He’s marrying Yixing in two hours. The thought seeps into his still dazed mind. He’s marrying Yixing in two hours.
“Please stop with the creepy smile, before Yixing decides you’re too psycho and dump you at the altar.”
Trust Chanyeol to ruin the moment.
“There’s no altar, Chanyeol, they’re not marrying in a church,” adds Joonmyeon, adjusting Yifan’s tie with expert hands and picking a blonde hair standing out on the black fabric of the jacket.
“The lack of altar won’t change your sad destiny of old bachelor. The smile has to go.”
Chanyeol’s phone rings, SNSD’s ‘I Got A Boy’ filling the room, and Chanyeol hesitates to answer because he recognizes the song. This is Baekhyun, and he’s still not over kissing his former roommate the previous night because they’ve broken up more than three years ago and things are still awkward.
“Chanyeol, for god’s sake, give it to- Hello, Baekhyun, what’s the problem?”
His two best men slowly watch their groom becoming paler and paler, his angry eyebrows corrugating to the point they’re almost touching, until Yifan looks strangely like a cartoon angry villain.
“I’m on my way.”
He tosses Chanyeol his own phone and takes his jacket. “You two, make sure to reach the ceremony hall and help Jongdae to avoid the brutal murder of the wedding planner. And Baekhyun says not to give Jongdae the keys to the drink stack, only half of this group is still sober, let’s try not to make the percentage of rational people fall even more.”
“Where are you going, then?”
“I have to talk with my boyfriend. Baekhyun says he wants to dump me at the altar.”
Yifan’s hands are big and warm. There was a time when Yixing used to escape his touch, loathing the trail of warmth they left on his heated skin. He hated the way those long, thick fingers were able to encase his waist making feel trapped. More than anything, he hated himself, for he couldn’t escape the delirious fever that assaulted his mind whenever Yifan’s breath hit his sweaty skin after practice, before his bandmate, his leader, his friend, took his hand and pulled him away from the mirror to rest on the bench. He always tried to talk himself into thinking that he felt dizzy because of the fatigue, and not because the world never failed to spin too quickly whenever Yifan was in sight.
It’s been years, and now he’s hiding in a closet, too scared to go out and face his future life. What was he thinking when he had agreed to marry Yifan?
“Why didn’t you stop me, Han?” he cries, knowing too well that his best friend would’ve never stopped him. Lu Han enjoys his married life way too much to advice anyone against it. They’ve been friends for so many years they can always guess what the other is thinking. Just like Lu Han had been the first to pick up on the suspicious tension that seemed to impregnate the air every time Yixing and Yifan were in the same room, Yixing had been the first to notice when his best friend’s dream had switched from being a famous idol to being able to marry a famous idol (despite being one himself).
And marry they had, after the longest and most extenuating legal battle with SM lawyers, Lu Han had extorted their boss the right to finally, finally put a ring on Kim Minseok’s hand. It had been the most scandalous wedding in the history of Korean pop industry, even more than the multiple attempts of the Kim JongKey couple.
Lu Han doesn’t answer Yixing’s pleas, but he tries to force the closet doors open, again. Yixing grabs the nearest clothes hanger, ready to defend himself if necessary. No one will ever be able to pull him out of this closet, no one.
“Go away I SAID!” he shouts, hitting Lu Han’s head with the improvised weapon. Except it’s not Lu Han the person who falls over him in an uncoordinated tangle of legs, arms and expensive, tacky clothes.
“Wow, this reminds me of our first kiss, in EXO-M’s closet, back at Beijing’s dorm.”
Time has passed, and Yifan’s voice has lost the edge of his teen years, becoming softer but also deeper, warm and intense like chocolate. The effect on Yixing is the same, though. Everything is spinning, but Yifan’s arm around him keep him still and safe.
“Our first kiss wouldn’t have even happened if you weren’t so,” he struggles to find the perfect word as Yifan’s mouth run over his neck, covering the skin with heated kisses, “clumsy.”
Yifan’s laugh against his ear makes him shiver.
“I have a confession to make, though,” the closet is too little for them, Yixing wants to throw his hands around his boyfriend’s shoulders and touch, squeeze, pull him closer, “that day I never tripped. I actually feinted.”
“Oh, really? You purposefully fell on me?”
“I fell for you, Xing.”
Yifan is the cheesiest ball of cheese ever, and maybe that pink concept Jongdae was screaming about on the phone is actually the right one, at least it matches with his future husband’s personality.
Yixing’s hands are trapped under the weight of fashion, but he can still kiss Yifan, parting his little pink lips with his tongue and biting on the upper one just for the thrill of making Yifan gasp and melt over him.
Then something clicks and he detaches their lips, almost whining at the loss of contact. Yifan follows him but doesn’t dive to steal another kiss.
“You shouldn’t be here. The groom isn’t supposed to see the…”
“Bride? Are you calling yourself my bride, Yixing?
“…other groom,” glares Yixing, “before the marriage starts. What are you doing here?”
Yifan pouts.
“Baekhyun said you wanted to dump me at the altar.”
Yixing reddens, trying to put some space between him and Yifan, but the other boy clings to him, hides his head in Yixing’s neck teasing the skin with his teeth, and holds tight. It’s the perfect summary of their relationship, after all, Yixing running and Yifan chasing.
He’s struggled against his leader’s attentions for a long time. From the first, devouring zap of energy creeping down his back at Yifan’s brief introduction during training days, and every time he felt his appreciative look on himself, he had simply run, too afraid to be consumed by this toxic attraction. And Yifan had run after him. It’s not an accommodating person, his boyfriend. Yifan is stubborn, endearingly persistent. Yixing knew he was already screwed from that first, fateful yes. Not to marriage, not to being lovers, not to sex, not to a kiss, Yixing felt the hand of fate falling over him from the first time he had accepted to go out and drink sometimes with Yifan. From down there had just been an endless fall, with no going back because every time he tried to put some distance between them, to slow down the vortex of emotions that only Yifan’s kisses could cause, Yifan just had to stretch one of those enormous hands of his and catch him again.
He’s still not answering but at least he’s in Yifan’s arms, and he’s learned that Yifan can wait forever for his words, content with just holding him in silence. They don’t have forever, though, the ceremony is in… He pushes is very-soon-to-be-husband away, almost breaking his nose.
“The wedding hall, an hour, we…”
“Please breathe Xing, like this, breathe.”
He does, feeling Yifan’s fingers drawing relaxing circles on his hand. Breathe in, breathe out.
“I’m going to kill Lu Han. Soju before your marriage? What was he thinking?”
“He told me he helped with him. Turned out he totally freaked out too, before he did the big deed.”
Baekhyun’s obnoxious voice breaks the moment, “Hyung, have you managed to get Yixing out of the closet,” he thinks about it, “again?”
“Ahah, Baekhyun, you’re so funny.”
“Sure I am. Your car is there, you have to go in first.”
Yifan pulls out with a last kiss and tries to get up. This time is Yixing the one who goes after him. He hides his face in Yifan’s shoulder, so broad he feels like it could protect him from any danger, and whines.
“Yifan, what if it’s not destiny? Everything’s going wrong! We’re all drunk, the concept of the marriage is pink and ribbons, Baekhyun is allergic to pink, Kyungsoo has already threatened to kill the wedding planner twice and Baekhyun is probably going to help him, no one has heard from Minseok, Sehun and the kids yet, and my grandparents have been arrested for smuggling. I don’t think that this marriage is meant to be, not today at least and…”
Yifan silences him putting a finger on his trembling lips. “I love you, Zhang Yixing, and I’m going to marry you today. Nothing will stop me.”
Minseok is the nicest. Joonmyeon is strict, but fair. Chanyeol’s weakness are puppy eyes, but he never takes bullshit. Baekhyun is annoying, but he secretly spoils his kids like no one else. Lu Han is the type who doesn’t give a fuck, the most likely member to cover the maknae’s crimes. Kyungsoo is evil, but definitely corruptible. Yifan pretends to be a cool leader, but he’s very easy to make fun of him. Jongdae is simply fluffy.
Minseok is the nicest. Quiet and easy-going, he’s usually an almost-Lu-Han-type. He doesn’t pay too much attention to the little ones in the group, and when he does it’s usually to cuddle, never to reprimand them. It doesn’t feel like he’s really the oldest. Sehun doesn’t remember a time when Minseok has abused of his senior power, but his age shows in his calm, mature demeanour, contrasting with the amazing baby face he’s managed to keep despite having already being more than ten years from their debut.
“Sehun-ah, where are my daughters?
Sehun gulps because Minseok is still smiling, and it’s not Joonmyeon’s psycho smile or Kyungsoo’s almost-tasting-your-screams-of-pain smile. It’s a Minseok smile, sweet, caring, almost shy. Like Minseok doesn’t believe Sehun’s words and he’s only expecting his two children to jump on him from behind a corner because it’s only a joke, only it’s not a joke and Sehun starts to sweat in his elegant suit.
“I can explain. I was talking with the manager about a security problem and they were there, I swear, they were playing in the middle of the aisle-”
“Sehun-ah, where are my daughters?”
The smile is more forced now, and Sehun feels like he’s ended up in a twisted parallel dimension where Minseok’s evil twin is going to kill him if he doesn’t find the little girls in a few minutes.
Jongin arrives just in time to save his head, or testify his beheading, it depends on Minseok’s mood and right now Sehun has little hope about his destiny.
“Hyung, you’re here! Please come, Kyungsoo is wrestling with the wedding planner on the main table of the banquet hall, and Jongdae is on the verge of crying…”
Sehun instinctively moves towards the exit, because a crying Jongdae is like an omen of bad luck and he needs to be immediately comforted and stuffed with biscuits and cake and maybe they can spare one of the smallest cakes made for the wedding banquet for the noble purpose to save Jongdae’s (and everyone else’s, because a sad Jongdae is a contagious Jongdae) mood.He’s stopped by the iron hold of Minseok’s hand on his arm, and Minseok may be little and fluffy but he’s actually stronger than Sehun and he’s cutting his blood circulation and it hurts.
“I don’t think so,” he says with a snarl, scaring even Jongin,” now you’re going to search every corner of this place until you find my dear kids, and you’re going to help him.”
“What? Why me? He’s the one who lost your kids, hyung!”
“I don’t care. Lu Han is going to be here in forty minutes, if you haven’t found his spawn before the marriage begins I’m going to tie you with a rope and leave here with him until only your bones remain. You know he’s very protective towards the babies, right? I suggest you start now.”
As Minseok runs away to avoid the celebration of a funeral in place of a marriage, Jongin gulps and says faintly, “I always thought that the scary one was Lu Han.”
Sehun can’t believe he’s still got a possibility, his entire life has passed in front of him I the last five minutes. “Now I have no doubts. They’re really made for each other.”
Chanyeol pull on his necktie, trying to widen the suffocating knot that’s pressing on his throat and making it difficult to inhale, exhale. Next to him, Yifan is having a hysteric fit.
“Did they find them?”
“Still searching,” usefully provides Joonmyeon as he runs through the aisle and reach them, taking place between Chanyeol and Yifan and scanning the guests until he finds his wife.
“Please don’t do that, you’re even creepier than Yifan,” pleas Chanyeol, but Joonmyeon doesn’t seem to be listening to him, and he even blows a kiss to the pregnant woman. She raises the chubby baby she’s holding, moving the little hand in a greeting gesture. Chanyeol gives his best retching sound impersonation, but Joonmyeon cuts him, “Look, he’s making bye-bye to his daddy, how cute.”
“No,” answers Chanyeol, “he’s sending an SOS message to his uncle because you and my sister are crazy and gross and he wants me to save him.”
“I’m a little worried for her, she said she didn’t feel very well.”
Yura blows another kiss to Joonmyeon, and Chanyeol silently wonders why didn’t he try for YG instead.
It seemed too strange to just wait for Yixing at the end of the aisle and let him do the catwalk on the red carpet, like Zitao had jokingly said, alone, so they’re at the door, and the two grooms will be walking down the aisle together, hand in hand. That’s the plan, except Yixing’s car is nowhere in sight.
Yifan is now mumbling incoherently, but it’s just his third freak out in twenty minutes. Looks like Yixing has infected him with his nervousness or something, and everything is going to hell.
Well, at least we have the rings, reasons Chanyeol, looking at the red cushion that Zitao and Sehun were supposed to bring together to the wedding couple, except Zitao is with Yixing, and they’re later than late, and Sehun is probably busy being tortured by Minseok because he lost the children. Chanyeol files a mental note never to leave his nephew, or any future child, in the hands of their maknae.
The guests are already there. Yixing and Yifan wanted a familiar gathering, with only a few friends and family members. Familiar faces from the entertainment world are peering from the side aisles, more from Yifan’s side than Yixing’s, but only because Yixing has invited a lot of family members. There are a few empty seats, Yixing’s grandparents and one of the managers, still blocked at the airport. Jongdae is breathless, but there, pulling with himself a wild Kyungsoo who stills hold in his tiny, lethal hand a piece of pink fabric.
Minseok is waiting for his husband, looking worried as hell. They’ll probably run away to join the search party as soon as Lu Han arrives, but if they’re lucky Sehun and Jongin will arrive with the children in a few minutes and everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.
Inhale. Exhale. He puts a hand on Yifan’s shoulder and he hopes it looks reassuring.
The car arrives, and he takes a long moment to guiltily appreciate the sight of Baekhyun before Yixing gets out of the car and steals the spotlight from everyone else. It’s definitely his day, and he’s a vision in his white suit. Yifan has drunkenly confessed to him that the big fight in March, the one that lasted for three weeks, blew up because Yifan had the guts to ask Yixing to wear a white dress at the wedding. He probably doesn’t mind the lack of gowns now, seeing that he’s shamelessly gawping, looking very much like he hasn’t seen Yixing in months and he’s ready to jump him in front of everyone else.
Their eyes meet, they smile like they’re the happiest men in the world. It’s not perfect but it’s their day. Nothing can really go wrong now.
Everyone starts to whisper at once, the wedding march begins.
When Yifan pushes him into their room, Yixing’s suit is already coming undone. Yifan’s hands have already started to unbutton the white shirt and were harshly pulling on the jacket when they were running on the stairs, hoping to escape from all the people who wanted to talk with them.
They’re not really in the mood for dealing with their guests. At least there’s still the cake. Cake is always the solution. It’s such a good idea, really, he doesn’t even care if he sounds slightly illogical because after a morning like the one they’ve just been through he has the right to be incoherent, if he wants. So he tells Yifan, whispers against his lips between kisses, feeling the way his lover drinks on his words.
“Cake is always the solution, Yifan.”
“Do you think I can fuck cake like I’m going to fuck you?”
Something pokes at his legs, and no, cake definitely cannot ease the hunger in Yifan’s belly. Yixing feels the outline of Yifan’s cock, straining hard against the front of his pants, and wonders how everyone else managed not to notice it before, but maybe everyone else was just too distracted.
“I don’t know, want me to fetch one of the wedding cakes so you can give it a try?”
Yifan laughs in response, slips his hands into Yixing’s white pants and just touches, fingers pressing into the flesh to haul Yixing up, forcing him to secure his limbs against him if he doesn’t want to fall.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
They still feel drunk and giddy all over, and they have tons of things to worry, everyone being still downstairs, for example, and someone could come up looking for them any moment now, and there are a lot of children still running around the place and they could destroy their innocence forever, and-
“You’re thinking too much,” says Yifan tenderly, as soon as he manages to walk them to the four-poster Victorian bed and let Yixing fall on the pillow with a soft ouch. The clothes are still on, but despite the furious want in his veins, Yixing stills again to let Yifan trace his bottom lip with his tongue before opening his lip and welcoming him in.
Their bodies shift, pressing their erections together and he whines in Yifan’s mouth before he lets himself fall on the mattress again, pulling his lover down with him.
Yifan does the chase, Yixing turns his face and runs away from his mouth, scratching at his shirt to urge him, “Please, please, just pull it off.” Yifan complies, but tears at Yixing’s white shirt until some of the buttons fly away, hastily undoing the others and letting it falls on the floor to keep company to his own.
“You have no idea, you just,” Yixing gulps, even if it’s Yifan who’s having problems to talk right now, “When I saw you standing there, in white, Xing, white looks so good on you… I should’ve just listened to my fucking mind and forced you to come in a white dress. That would’ve been a real shock to the guests.”
“Yes, like Minseok’s daughter falling from the balcony into Jongin’s arms wasn’t shocking enough.”
Yixing can barely move, Yifan’s weight pinning him down on the bed, the friction on his cock delicious, but not enough. He can only impatiently tugs at Yifan’s pants, hoping he’ll get the hint.
“If a bomb had exploded right in the middle of the hall I wouldn’t have even noticed, because I was too busy looking at you and dreaming about the moment I could’ve finally, finally got you out of your pants…” He only pauses to drop his pants on the messy heap of clothes they’ve formed on the floor, deciding then to attack Yixing’s. “And that moment is right now.”
Yixing’s appreciative moan is easily swallowed by Yifan’s mouth, while they leave their hands free to roam over sensitive skin. “You’re so pale,” sighs Yifan on his neck, trailing kisses down his neck, “so pretty.”
Yixing tightens his legs on Yifan’s sides, forcing him down on his cock and thrusting up to meet him halfway. The solid expanse of Yifan’s back is his lifeline, as he slides on the silky sheets when Yifan drives hard against him.
He hears him curse in English, “Fuck, wait, Yixing, we have to stop.”
He whines, feeling all the desire pooled down in his belly clawing at his body to make it move against Yifan. “Why?” he manages to spit in the end, when Yifan pin his body down to stop the mindless rutting. Yifan’s breath stop harshly when he looks down at him, and Yixing knows he looks a mess, all splayed over the expensive duvet, naked, sweaty and wanton.
Yifan has to press their forehead together, closing his eyes to erase the sinful image in front of him and concentrating only on the warmth of Yixing’s skin to pull himself together.
“I don’t have anything,” he confesses airily, diving down to plant a kiss on Yixing’s neck.
“You don’t?” is the incredulous answer. “Who are you and what have you done to the love of my life?”
Yifan’s hair is dark again, and too long, the messy fringe falling to cover his eyes, but Yixing doesn’t miss on the slight blush on his cheeks. “I thought you would’ve been mad at me if you found out I had married you with lube in my suit pocket.”
And he’s so cute, too cute, Yixing can’t believe he’s managed to snatch this man and now he can have him, all of him, for himself. This strong, beautiful man who makes Yixing feels safe and protected when he’s caged in his arms, this caring, lovely boy who’ll never stop trying for Yixing, and he’s able to blush so prettily just because he’s been caught being considerate and mindful of someone else’s feelings. He feels a lump in his throat, because he wants to belong to Yifan as much as Yifan already belongs to him.
“Silly,” he says, disentangling their bodies and pushing Yifan away, “check my suit pocket.”
Yifan throws an incredulous look back at him. “Did you come to our marriage with lube in your suit pocket? I can’t believe it. Who are you and what have you done to the love of my life?”
Yixing relaxes, leaning back on his elbows and spreading his legs to make space for Yifan. The lube is cold on his heated skin, but the gesture are so familiar he doesn’t do more than shiver and push against Yifan’s fingers for more, despite the mild pain. He knows what’s next, he can take this.
“It was Lu Han,” he admits, trying to distract himself from the fingers probing inside of him, “after I wore the suit. He said that I was so sexy that a pervert like you wouldn’t have likely been able to keep his cock out of my ass for the entire length of the ceremony, and he wanted to save my bottom the discomfort of having to bear with your flaming passion. Looks like he was right, doesn’t it?”
Yifan scoffs, but mentally thanks Lu Han anyway. Thanks to his meddling he can now have Yixing all laid out like a feast only for him, while he doubts that he and Minseok will have much time to fuck, considering that they’ll be forever be busy watching over their offspring like overprotective hawks from now on.
Yixing shifts when Yifan inserts the third finger, trying to get him to graze that spot deep inside. He won’t last enough, all of the anxiety and fears bottled inside his stomach demand an immediate explosion, and he feels oversensitive and tingly all over. He urges Yifan to move and just stick it inside of him with whines and angry strokes of long guitarist nails on his shoulder. “Can you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.”
“Now!” he says, and Yifan complies, pulling his fingers out of him and making a show of cleaning them on the duvet to piss Yixing off.
“You’re an ass,” he tries to say, but the air is knocked out of his lungs as Yifan is leans in between his legs and aligns his lubed cock with Yixing’s opening. The slide in is never smooth, because Yifan is too caring and takes it slower than it’s necessary, stroking Yixing’s stomach and sides as he sink inside, and if he’s still lucid enough to try and go all gentleman over him, it can only mean that Yixing is doing it wrong.
His legs cling to Yifan’s chest like ivy, and he makes pressure with the back of his heels to finally be able to shove Yifan down and deep for good, mewling at the sensation.
“Can you fuck me like you mean it, please?”
“You’re so feisty today… What happened to my sleepy, quiet Yixing? The docile one, I mean.”
“He’s annoyed, frustrated and fucking tired of everything, including your shit. Yifan, if you don’t move right now…”
He tries to thrust up, to force Yifan to move, anything, but Yifan’s eyes shoot to his hips to hold him down.
“Hang on there, cowboy, I don’t want you to be all hurt and limping in front of the guest. What will your mother think?”
“That you’re doing it right, you freakin-” he moans abruptly at the feeling of Yifan’s hand on his own cock. He knows this is really out of character, a side of him that Yifan hardly gets to see. He rarely gets so impatient during sex, leaving the whole sexual frustration department to Yifan. In fact, he actually enjoys being pampered and gently held like he’s made of glass, knowing that his boyfriend is willing to wait for him to be ready, until he’s sure he’s not hurting him in any way, makes the experience of sex feel way more enjoyable. Yifan makes him feel loved, always.
But today he feels on a fucking race, and he can barely see the ending line but he’s not able to reach it, because Yifan is slowing him down.
“Relax, Xing, you’re too tense. Don’t make me hold you down and fuck you even slower than you deserve.”
Except he’s already doing it. The hand on his cock is so big, it almost envelopes it entirely, but Yifan’s giving him nothing more than light strokes on his cock and subtle, barely there thrusts inside him. It manages to make his head spin despite not being enough to send him over the edge.
“Weddings make me tense,” he spits, and moves to touch his cock with impatient hands, but Yifan traps them in his hold and snarls at him.
“Can you please calm down a little? I’m getting there, I swear. Now stay still and let me do this right.”
He purposefully clenches his walls on Yifan’s erection and Yifan gasps, hips faltering a little and hitting deeper inside of him. Yifan lets go of his hands and hips at once, and Yixing is coming up to smash their mouths together, hands pulling at Yifan’s hair and hips thrusting forward, until they’re impossibly close and every thrust just makes him closer.
The heady weight of Yifan’s cock barely brushes against his prostate, and Yixing finds himself crying loudly, because this isn’t enough, this is maddening and he wants more moremore.
The orgasm hits him unexpectedly and almost painfully, his insides clenching tightly around Yifan as he comes messily in his hand. He’s still sensitive and quivering all over when Yifan finds his own release, sealed by a messy kiss and a declaration of love.
“What did go wrong?” asks Yixing as they lay in bed, when the panting has subsided letting space to satisfied purring and lazy kisses. The demanding, needy side Yifan had never seen him showing so strongly until now is gone, washed away with the orgasm, and it’s amazing to see how quickly Yixing has reverted to his cuddly, fluffy self.
“You mean, what didn’t go wrong. I personally think that one of our best moment was when I realized that all of our best men were gone.”
Yixing mumbles thoughtfully. “Well, Lu Han was justified. I would’ve done the same if I knew my kids were gone like that. Sehun is lucky nothing happened to the little pests. If they were hurt, or something else, I don’t even want to think about it. You know Lu Han’s always had a soft spot for him, but I doubt he would’ve let him live it down if his precious children had an accident because he didn’t watch them closely enough.”
“I’d strangle the kids, instead. Thank God the older one was intelligent enough to understand that you’re not supposed to jump from the second floor in the middle of a wedding just because you think it’d be funny.”
Yixing laughs, “And thank God that the little one has a crush on Jongin and jumped right in his arms.”
“Joonmyeon had his problems too, you know?” continues Yifan, referring to Yura’s impromptu waters breaking, right in the middle of the aisle, coupled with screams and Joonmyeon fainting. Chanyeol and Yixing’s mother were at her side in a second, and aided by the other women and Joonmyeon, woken up by Kyungsoo with a powerful slap on his pace and still pale as a ghost, they had managed to bring her outside while someone called for an ambulance.
“I’ve never seen Joonmyeon that scared, not even when there was that scandal with Jongin and drugs and Jongin was crying all the time and we thought they were going to disband us.”
They’re silent for a minute, thinking back to the turning point of their careers. They could’ve fallen at that time, just because of a nasty rumour turned in something more, and they still remember the long reunions back at the SM buildings, hushed talks of putting the group on hiatus. Yifan was always nervous, everyone was on the edge, but Joonmyeon had it the worst, even if it was Jongin under accuse.
Yixing traces Yifan’s chest with his fingers, revelling in the faint marks his mouth has drawn there before. “Chanyeol went to the hospital with his sister and brother-in-law, but I still don’t understand why and where did Baekhyun go.”
“Xing, Chanyeol never went to the hospital. He and Baekhyun started to argue while we walked along the ceremony hall, and I think they were already gone when Minseok had to stop Lu Han from punching Sehun.”
“What? Baekhyun and Chanyeol? Since when?”
Yixing jumps on top of him, naked legs falling around Yifan’s hips, and it isn’t fair the way his body reacts with in interested flair of pleasure at the sensation. “It’s been three years already, I thought they were finally over this phase. Yifan, what happened? Tell meeee!”
He has to trap Yixing’s hand in his grip, physically restraining him if he wants to avoid the probing of deft, sneaky fingers. Yixing bites his hand and he’s free, threatening to tickle Yifan to death if he doesn’t obtain an answer.
“Ok, come on, wait, I’ll tell you. Chanyeol may have kissed Baekhyun at my bachelor party because he thought he was a blonde Russian stripper. And Baekhyun may have let him, because he was more sober than we thought. And maybe they’ve been texting all morning except that it turned into sexting and then into angry sexting and Chanyeol confessed me that they never discussed their previous break out so they had unfinished business.”
“Oh.”
“But, you know, we could’ve married without them. I mean, it’s just a thing between us, so nothing would’ve even mattered. I mean, I would’ve married you in the middle of all that chaos, with Jongdae treating Sehun’s wounds after that brawl with Minseok and Lu Han and everyone gasping when they found out that Kyungsoo was having a secret affair with the wedding planner since Jinki-hyung’s marriage. I would’ve still married you.”
Yixing sighs, resting his head on Yifan’s chest and listening to his heart. “I would’ve married you too, if it was only a matter of our friends being stupid and basically just them being, them, you know?”
Yifan nods. It isn’t like they weren’t expecting things to end up like this, and in the end their marriage could’ve been a little lively, yes, but nothing unmanageable.
They were ready to fight for their right to pronounce those votes, even in the middle of all the confusion and the chaos. They just didn’t expect things to get even worse.
“I wasn’t expecting the sasaengs,” he confesses in Yixing’s hair. “I could’ve married you on the verge of death, but I couldn’t let them take even this from us, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Xing, because I had sworn to you, this morning, that nothing would’ve stopped me.”
His voice sounds broken even to his own ears, but Yixing just smiles and kiss him, sweet and comforting. “That was a little too much to handle.”
And it’s terribly unfair, because they wanted to do this, they still want. There’s no rethinking or doubts, hidden underneath the anxiety they were sure. They’re in love.
“I love you,” he says. Yixing answers, “I love you too.”
Zitao shouts, “I love you both,” from behind the door, and the moment is broken.
“What the hell do you want, Taozi?”
Zitao knocks obnoxiously, “Are you naked? I’m going to enter!” and before they can tell him that yes, they’re very much naked, he’s already opening the door and gaping at them and running away screaming of his poor eyes and lost innocence.
They exchange an exasperated look, before starting to put their clothes on and going down to see what’s the problem, now.
When Lu Han barges into their room they are busy adjusting their crooked ties between quick kisses, and he wastes no time in throwing a judging look at their wrinkled shirts and Yixing’s missing buttons.
“Don’t mind having just corrupted the innocence of my little sweeties,” he says, referring to the three years old angel with ponytails curled up in his arms and her slightly older sister who’s clinging to her daddy’s legs like ivy and giggling because “Uncle Fan and uncle Xing were making love.”
The adults in the room pale when they hear the words, and Yifan asks himself exactly how much subtle are Lu Han and Minseok in front of their daughters when they cuddle. But then the kids proceed to blow each other exaggerated kisses and make retching faces and Lu Han is quick to send them to uncle Jongin, who’s surely dying to play with them. They run away with excited screams.
“Because it’s a good idea to run in the room of a honeymoon couple with your innocent little sweeties, right?”
“Oh, shut up Yifan, no one cares what you think anyway. And actually this is not your honeymoon because you aren’t married yet.”
“Thanks for the reality check, Han,” sighs Yixing.
His best friend shrugs. “I just wanted to say that Yixing’s grandparents are here, everyone is dressed and sober and Joonmyeon called saying it’s a girl. He’s already on his way here with Chanyeol’s mom and Suho Junior. Yura and the new baby can’t obviously make it, but she sends her best regards.”
They look at him like he’s speaking in a foreign language.
“So?” asks cautiously Yixing, trying to urge Lu Han to get to the point.
“So, if you’ve finished rolling into your sheets for everyone who wants to go the bathroom to hear, security has solved the problems with the uninvited guests. They’ve cleared the place, it should be safe now. The guests are still here, and Kyungsoo and the wedding planner have just rescheduled the ceremony to be, like, in forty minutes.”
Yifan feels Yixing’s hand in his own, holding tight.
“You mean we can really…” he tries, but Lu Han snatches a still dumbfounded Yixing away from him and starts dragging the poor boy away.
“I’m sorry Benben, but the groom can’t really see the bride before the wedding, so I’m afraid I have to steal my best friend from you for the next hour, before you steal him from me for the rest for your lives.”
The door closes behind Yixing’s grumpy “I’m not a bride!” and Yifan stares at it, still struggling to catch on with the news.
He’s marrying Yixing in less than an hour. He’s marrying Yixing. In less than an hour. He needs to find Chanyeol.
Joonmyeon arrives at the last moment, wearing his dumbest smile and quickly accepting congratulations from everyone before taking his place at the end of the aisle next to Chanyeol. Chanyeol doesn’t even notice the arrival of his brother-in-law, too busy smiling at Baekhyun, and blushing, and then staring again, and Baekhyun looks like all the pink of the world never bothered him anyway.
“I thought Baekhyun would’ve freaked out when he found out that you’re dating the pink wedding planner. You know, his allergy to pink is really,” his voice drops, “serious. You have a stain of lipstick on your neck by the way, right here. And it’s pink.”
Kyungsoo sends a devious smirk towards Zitao, who’s still staring at the giggling couple of idiots like he’s missing something. “Oh, I think Chanyeol’s magic dick healed him. You know, since they were able to do it on the main table of the banquet hall without any hysteric pink-related fits.”
Zitao pales. “I ate on that table.”
Jongdae laughs and Kyungsoo just beams evilly. Sehun, as Zitao’s best friend, tries to comfort him with a pat on his back, but he can’t help but stare at Baekhyun and Chanyeol and ask, “How much will they last this time?”
“I don’t know,” comments a placid Jongdae, “but they can’t count on me anymore to be their comforting fuck buddy when they blow up like a Chinese firecracker. Again,” he adds, as an afterthought.
Sehun leans his injured cheek, Lu Han really has a killer punch, on Jongdae’s shoulder and smiles shyly.
“What happened with the two of you?” inquires a suspicious Kyungsoo, still scratching his neck to hide an obnoxious pink lip-gloss stain.
“Nothing,” answers Sehun, “just Jongdae finally admitting that I’m his favourite maknae.”
Jongdae reddens, but doesn’t fight Sehun’s hold on his hand.
“I must find myself a girlfriend before all of the rainbows flying in this group makes me gay too,” jokes Zitao, making kissy faces at an annoyed Sehun.
“Oh, Taozi,” is his best friend’s evil answer, “you spend all of your time looking at yourself in the mirror. That makes you pretty gay too.”
Zitao chokes and prepares to jump over Sehun, but Minseok and Jongin choose that exact moment to join them, the latter holding both of the little girls in his arms, and the fight dies before it can even start. The children waves towards their other daddy, who’s running to reach Baekhyun’s side and wait for the wedding couple there.
“Do you have the rings?” he mouths alarmed towards Sehun and Zitao. There’s a moment of general panic, until Lu Min, the second princess of Lu Han and Minseok’s household, takes the velvety pillow with the still glued wedding bands out of her sister’s colourful backpack. They all heave a sigh of relief.
Yixing and Yifan arrive, just holding hands. It’s a mess, but it’s still their day. It’ll be alright.
Everyone starts to whisper at once, the wedding march begins.
“Yes, I do.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You can kiss the groom.”
(And they lived happily and peacefully ever after, at least until Jongdae, Baekhyun, Zitao and Lu Min started to fight for the bouquet.)