5 Drabbles & Ficlets
Author Note: A series of mostly Krisyeol drabbles/ficlets, like the title said, with maybe some Suchen here or there ;3 Finally got around to posting this on LJ. Each one is a different AU. Some are short, some are strangely kind of long.
Made For Each Other: fantasy adventure!au Yifan was not planning on having Chanyeol latch onto him like a puppy with a new toy in the middle of his travels.
What Yifan was looking for was not something tangible, not something that could be held, caressed. Knowledge, he supposed, was not exactly what people would expect him to scour the whole world for. He was looking for a particular type of knowledge. He simply tried to discover lost antique legends, ones that had been gathering dust in the space of its words.
What he did not plan on happening was having someone tag along with him. All he knew was that one day he was walking through foreign, bustling streets alone, and the next, a bouncy Park Chanyeol was right beside him. Their meeting went along something the line of this:
Yifan (squinting against the glare of the five suns; this city was the closest to them) stared at the tall - child? His face was certainly youthful - in front of him.
A slow, infectious smile spreading over Chanyeol’s face, one eye closed and not even looking perturbed that he had spilled lychee juice all over this aloof stranger. “Let me pay for your dinner as an apology. What’s your name?”
And sometimes, Yifan regretted actually letting his real name slip out of his mouth because a second later, Chanyeol was gushing about how much he always wanted to meet the elusive Wu Yifan who was on a quest of finding all the lost legends when no one else succeeded before.
When Chanyeol latched onto him and enthusiastically yelped about all the fun they’ll have together because he’s going with Yifan on this adventure too, Yifan gave him his signature scowl. “What about your life?”
“I tried to live normally.” Chanyeol gave a carefree shrug with a bright smile. “And failed.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“I know.”
Seeing Chanyeol’s absolute refusal to back down, Yifan gave him a lingering stare and said, “Fine.” Chanyeol was just going to be begging to go back to his home city after experiencing the tedium, the skin-crawling danger, the soul-dragging process of recovering just one lost literature anyway.
“Is it true that you can call on dragons?” Chanyeol was giving him the awed eye-twitch later that night, in the broken down motel with the fungi crawling over the walls, glowing in the dark. He didn’t seem to mind the poverty. Almost seemed used to it, actually.
Yifan turned his head to look at the bed opposite his and gave it his best glare. Amber once claimed that he could burn stuff with it and that should’ve been his power instead. He was on the verge of dreamland before Chanyeol’s timbre broke the silence.
“Yes.” He turned towards the wall, closing his eyes.
Clearly Chanyeol was incapable of processing social cues, because he continued talking. About anything and everything, really. The neon-green snails that he saw some people eating yesterday, and he wondered which region they were from - maybe the valley with two moons shining over it? Then he started rambling about his family, who was scattered all across the land and something about his parents who had given him free reign the moment he turned 16 and Yifan was weirdly enraptured but he couldn’t help his heavy eyelids from shutting. Chanyeol’s voice soothed him to sleep, and it would continue to do so for many years to come.
The annoying thing (out of all the annoying things that he would list about Chanyeol, and the list was long) was that Chanyeol got distracted. Very easily. They would walk through a merchant market place, and Chanyeol would slip away, attracted to a shiny bauble floating in the air. The first time, Yifan had almost panicked (for some unknown reason), because how hard was it to lose someone that was almost his height? Chanyeol always came to him, tugging his hand and chirping about whatever new, shiny thing he had seen, and could they buy it please pretty please?
“Dinner,” Yifan reminded, eyes narrowed, because both of them were lacking in rens and they had to take part-time jobs occasionally before moving onto the next destination.
A pretty pout from Chanyeol didn’t even deter him.
Still, as they were walking away from yet another town, Yifan sneakily snuck a paper package into Chanyeol’s pack. As they were settling down to munch on dry provisions, Chanyeol had taken it out with a surprised tilt of his eyebrows and carefully unwrapped it. It was a glittering little jewel with beads wound across it, and Chanyeol gave Yifan his own special trembling smile that spoke of glistening glass reflecting the rainbow hues of water drops.
“It’s a protection charm,” Yifan said.
“But our money,” Chanyeol said, fingertips ghosting across the jewel as he wrapped the beads around his wrist.
“I found it a long time ago. In one of the ice caves. Just happened to carry it around with me.” He turned away, not sure if his heated face was because of the suns or his heart pitter-pattering.
He was actually surprised that Chanyeol was still by his side - even though it had been one whole month and their living conditions had been mostly on the spectrum side of miserable squalidness. He was glad. The prospect of traveling by himself without a ball of sunshine matching each step of his gave him a punching, sinking feeling in his gut. It sounded… Lonely.
“That.” Chanyeol pointed one day as they trekked across a dune hill. The sky was purple since all of the suns except one had set. “That kind of pink-purple. It’s my favorite color.”
Yifan felt his mouth twitch up as Chanyeol stopped and panted after they reached the top of the hill. “It’s my favorite, too.”
Chanyeol stood up, caught up to him, and reached out to tangle their hands and fingers together. Yifan’s stomach jolted up and down like iridescent jelly even though the contact was so utterly casual. As easy as breathing.
“We have the same favorite colors,” Chanyeol said, eyes shining and tips of his hair light brown from overexposure to the suns. “We are MFEO.”
Yifan was trying to snap out of the daze he was in from gazing at the strands of hair falling in front Chanyeol’s heart-breakingly gorgeous eyes. “What?”
“MFEO.” A squeeze of their hands. “Made For Each Other.”
And it shouldn’t be this hard to breathe but it was. He didn’t say anything because what was there to say? He just kept walking, hands clasped with the man who might’ve stolen his heart the first time he saw his smile.
Chanyeol cheered and sat in front of the little hut once they reached it. It had been hidden by layers of foliage, and the forest labyrinth gave Yifan an incredible migraine in navigating it.
“This is it, right? The place that your academic books said the text would be,” Chanyeol said, his eyes half-crescents.
“It probably has traps,” Yifan said. “They usually do. The ancients were extremely protective of their legends.”
“I’m going with you.” And he left no rooms for argument. It sounded like he was saying wherever you go, I’ll go with you and Yifan was struck by the force of an invisible hand reaching in and squeezing his heart.
“Okay.”
The traps turned out to be puzzles, and Chanyeol actually helped him solve most of them with his random insights. When Yifan looked at him with something akin to wonder, Chanyeol said with a grin, “A different set of eyes always helps.”
The legend they had found turned out to be about a pair of lovers, reuniting once a year when the constellations in the sky held hands and formed a bridge for them cross and meet. Legends usually had a grain of truth to them, and that was why they were so sought for. They always told something about history, and Yifan stroked his hand across the fraying ends of the parchment, half-awed.
“At least you didn’t have to summon dragons this time,” Chanyeol said, sounding almost a little disappointed at not seeing his power first-hand. Yifan gave him the look.
“That was only once.”
Several seconds later, as they exited the hut, making sure to leave everything looking as it was because nature had been so ingrained with it, Chanyeol was squeezing Yifan’s bicep in excitement, saying, “We should celebrate! First legend we found together - this makes, what, your fourth?”
Yifan hummed. “It was surprisingly easy this time.”
“I’m your good luck charm.” Chanyeol gave a little hair flip with his finger, smugly smiling and Yifan had never adored someone so much before and - Chanyeol was tangling their fingers together again; oh gods no matter how many times he did that, he would never get used to it. Chanyeol’s voice had dropped down to a low, adoring whisper. “I think we belong together.”
And Yifan laughed because it sounded so utterly cheesy, and there was that pretty pout directed towards him again.
Sometimes Yifan laid awake at night, looking at Chanyeol’s resting profile, wondering if it was just Chanyeol’s joker personality having fun with him - if he was kidding when he said those sweet, annoying love declarations. That they were soul mates or whatever.
They had entered a crowded city, its lights powered by tired orbed faeries even in the middle of the night. Yifan waited for Chanyeol to finish buying their take-out so that they could hurry up and get to the place they rented (they were planning on staying for a few weeks actually, so Yifan could try and pinpoint where they should go next) and sleep. He was tired beyond belief.
A group of whispering, giggling girls nudged one girl forward. She gave them almost-glares before approaching him, eyes averted and darting to his face before fluttering.
“Are you a traveler?” she asked, leaning towards him into his personal space. Her lips formed a pretty pout (not as pretty as Chanyeol’s) as she gazed imploringly at him. “I can show you around. I know all the best places to eat here.”
He sighed, used to the attention. Before he could reject her, there was a heated hand on his hip and he turned, startled, to see Chanyeol’s amiably smiling face.
“Sorry, he doesn’t need your help. Thank you, though.” He gave her a sweeter smile and his words dripped sugary molasses, yet his eyes were so cold they could freeze a burning flame.
Yifan saw the shiver that encompassed the girl’s frame before she stammered out a reply and returned to her gaggle of disappointed friends.
The hand was gone and Yifan almost missed its warmth before his chest was spreading tendrils of flames at how close Chanyeol was, leaning towards him and eyes warm again. It was like nothing had happened.
“They said they didn’t have sesame soy sauce, but they did have this weird orangey looking sauce. Are you okay with that?” Chanyeol asked, holding up the still-warm bags of food, and Yifan nodded.
Later that night, the cold stole around their room because the heating (powered by stones infused with witch spells) sucked, and Yifan’s teeth were chattering. Chanyeol had heard and sleepily patted the space beside him, eyes wide and inviting. He gave up on resisting and slipped underneath Chanyeol’s blankets, sticking his freezing nose right in the hollow area between Chanyeol’s neck and shoulders and earned a surprised yelp. He smiled widely, a little glad it was dark even though Chanyeol’s expression was probably priceless.
“Why are you so warm?” He murmured, but didn’t expect a reply as he dozed off in the comforting heat.
The next day, he found out why. They were walking towards the library, which was guarded by marble lions whose eyes moved to track each visitor, when they were ambushed. It was, thankfully, an empty deserted street, but Yifan was taken by surprise as someone’s (fortunately not dipped in poison) sword sliced into his arm. He had dodged at the last second at sensing some kind of danger, and the next thing he knew, they were both surrounded by unknown assailants with black cloth wrapped around their faces, with only their eyes exposed. Yifan gritted his teeth; he knew what they wanted. Authentic legends sold for billions of rens and he had been attacked before because of the greed of others. He didn’t sell those legends - never planned on it - his plan was to give them to the international museum so that they would influence generations of children to come. Never had he been surrounded by so many assailants before, though.
He raised his hand up, and he knew there was too little time to call whatever dragons that were in the vicinity (the nearest he could sense were 5 miles away), but it was a good bluff. But there was Chanyeol and his heart clenched in worry and fear because he didn’t mean to involve him in such dangerous nonsense, but it had been too late anyway when Chanyeol had latched onto him like a puppy with a new toy.
The assailants hesitated a little, but they moved in closer, boxing them in nevertheless. Chanyeol’s attention was only concentrated on the crimson stain on Yifan’s arm.
“You’re hurt,” he whispered, voice shaky, eyes slightly wild.
“Chanyeol, run,” Yifan hissed.
“You’re hurt,” Chanyeol repeated, and he looked Yifan right in the eye and Yifan’s pupils expanded in shock because were Chanyeol’s eyes ever this golden-red? “They hurt you.”
“Chanyeol.”
“They’re going to pay for this,” Chanyeol said, with this fierce, intense look on his face that Yifan had never seen before and he was shaken from the core because where had the goofy Chanyeol gone? But the second that thought passed, there was heat everywhere, flames licking and lapping at Chanyeol’s skin and Yifan was, for a moment, terrified because he had thought that they set Chanyeol on fire before he realized that Chanyeol had set himself on fire. And Yifan, was for some odd reason (probably something of Chanyeol’s doing), fine while the people in black were screaming.
There was a mad look in Chanyeol’s eyes, almost verging on the point of insanity, and he was still burning with the red-hot fire before Yifan wrapped him up in his arms, telling him that he was fine now, they all ran away before Chanyeol relaxed and passed out into his chest.
“It usually takes a lot of energy out of me,” Chanyeol said after he woke up and finished fussing over Yifan’s injury. He was sucking on a sugar cane to replenish his energy. “Summoning fire.”
“You should’ve told me earlier. Almost gave me a heart-attack,” Yifan muttered, mussing his hair up with his hand.
“Aww, was Yifan scared?” Chanyeol teased, eye corners crinkling up.
Instead of responding like a normal person, Yifan leaned forward and licked the sugary sweetness from Chanyeol’s lips. Chanyeol was wide-eyed after Yifan leaned back with satisfaction. He felt a little smidgen of smugness because at least he found a sure-fire way of shutting Park Chanyeol up now.
Then Chanyeol had whined, “More” and who was Wu Yifan to say no?
Because Sometimes There Are No Happy Endings: short angst bffs!au Why can't you love me instead?
Chanyeol heart-wrenchingly sobs into his pillow why can’t he love me? and Wu Fan is trying to comfort him, hand rubbing on his best friend’s back, his own heart aching with scars throbbing across it. The scars are opening up again and bleeding. All he thinks (even though he tries so hard not to, not to be so incredibly selfish) is why can’t you love me instead? But he swallows that all down because Chanyeol doesn’t want him like that. And if Chanyeol needs his best friend right now, that’s all that Wu Fan will be for him. He will be whoever Chanyeol wants him to be.
Wu Fan never told him, about his daydreams of holding Chanyeol so close that there was no space left in between them, about the wanting. About holding his hand and having it actually mean something. About stupid romantic dates in the middle of a snowstorm. He knows it would break Chanyeol, fill him with such guilt that he’s unknowingly ripping his best friend’s heart much like someone else is doing to his own. No, instead Wufan just holds Chanyeol’s hand tightly (his thumb brushing Chanyeol’s knuckles, the core of his soul gasping for more) and pretends that he’s not also hurting. And you know what? He really hates Junmyeon, for not seeing what he sees. For not seeing the affectionate, bubbly exterior of Chanyeol’s personality as well as the broody layer underneath. For not noticing the way he is always conscious of other people’s pain (everyone’s, that is, except for Wu Fan’s). People assume Chanyeol is happy because he’s smiling all the time.
Wu Fan knows that isn’t true.
And he starts asking himself the same question that Chanyeol is repeating, because why can’t Junmyeon love him? There is nothing (in his eyes) not to love in Chanyeol. And all he wants right now is to see Chanyeol genuinely smile, even if it’s not him who causes it.
Playful Seduction: university confession!au Only Chanyeol has this kind effect on Wu Fan.
“I’m going to seduce Wu Fan,” Chanyeol announces, eyes squinting at the mirror as he brushes his hair back in the exact manner that he knows Wu Fan prefers it in. He is dressed in relatively tight but not incredibly slutty attire (unlike Jongin, who struts around like he wants people to lick him all over. And there are a lot of people who want to).
His friends are lounging around his dorm room, staring at him incredulously, but Jongdae breaks the silence first.
“You know, if you were anyone else, I would tell you that you had no chance. But you might actually succeed,” he says slowly, as if he can’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth.
Chanyeol checks his reflection once more before turning to smile smugly at him. “I know.”
Jongin is rolling his eyes. “You guys are practically dating, anyway. Close friends, my ass.”
Lu Han tilts his head to properly examine Jongin’s ass. “I don’t know,” he says doubtfully, “why you would call attention to your ass when it’s not so impressive in the first place.”
Jongin flushes and makes a shrieking banshee kind of noise before flailing all over Lu Han. Chanyeol just snorts at the two of them before walking out. Typical, typical them.
He lets himself into Wu Fan’s room without knocking and smiles when he spots Wu Fan lying on the bed, reading a novel.
Chanyeol climbs onto the bed and flops onto Wu Fan, head buried in his chest. He inhales Wu Fan’s scent. Wu Fan just shifts and winds an arm around Chanyeol’s waist to keep him from falling off. His hand starts tracing mindless patterns on Chanyeol’s side. Only their inhales and exhales could be heard.
Wu Fan finally sets the book down, book marking it with one finger. “You look prettier than usual. Are you trying to seduce me?” He teases, not realizing that he kind of just hit the bull’s eye.
“Maybe,” Chanyeol says, wriggling around. He looks up, fluttering his eyelashes. “Is it working?”
“Hmm.” Wu Fan has freed his hand from the book and now has both of his hands around Chanyeol’s waist. “I don’t know. You might have to work a little harder than that.”
Chanyeol can’t help his lips from quirking up, but then a rarely seen nervous expression dominates his face. He looks down and breathes out: “What if I’m serious?”
“What?” Wu Fan asks softly, even though he has clearly heard. It’s just that he’s asking for clarification.
Chanyeol is still looking down and he starts playing with Wu Fan’s shirt, a nervous habit. This is less a seduction and more of a confession. Lately, they have been dancing around this thin line, being so comfortably close together and yet never too intimate.
“You remember when I introduce myself to you at that party?” Chanyeol asks.
“Yes?” Wu Fan is running his hand through Chanyeol’s locks of hair, and Chanyeol almost makes a small whimpering sound. This is the kind of closeness they have become, except they have never gotten to the point that Chanyeol wants them to be at. His hands are all clammy now and he’s suddenly finding it hard to breath because what if - ? What if Wu Fan gives him a look of utter pity and says I’m sorry after he’s done spilling his feelings out? Would he lose this, this proximity? A lancing pain runs through him at the mere thought.
But he must, because he feels like any day he might just climb all over Wu Fan and kiss the man senseless without any warning and that would be quite rude. And shocking, no less. That would probably violate all kinds of social rules.
“I spotted you first because you were just so damn tall,” Chanyeol says. Wu Fan’s laugh vibrates against Chanyeol’s chest. He continues: “and my first thought was I want him to be mine.”
He whispers the last part against Wu Fan’s neck, eyes squeezed shut. Whatever line that had existed between them had just been broken by this.
“Chanyeol,” Wu Fan’s voice has an extra layer of roughness. “Chanyeol, look at me.”
He reluctantly raises his head up and involuntarily shivers when Wu Fan’s finger tilts his chin up.
“Do you still think that?” Wu Fan asks.
Chanyeol wordlessly nods.
“What if I tell you, then,” Wu Fan says, rolling both of them so that they lie side by side on his bed. His hands are tangled in Chanyeol’s hair on both sides of his face. Chanyeol’s eyes are unblinkingly wide, “that I’m already pretty much yours? What would you do, then, hm?”
Wu Fan is pulling them closer, an irresistibly attractive smile lingering on his lips.
“Well?” Wu Fan asks, having stopped so that they are only half an inch apart. Chanyeol is still struck speechless. “What are you waiting for? Kiss me.”
There is no thought required for this, so Chanyeol just fluidly melts into Wu Fan’s arms, tentatively pressing their lips together and then getting braver, sliding his slightly chapped lips against Wu Fan’s more urgently. Wu Fan’s heartbeat is racing underneath his open palm, and they pant against each other’s mouths.
“Mhmm,” Chanyeol almost purrs as Wu Fan massages into his exposed skin right above his waistline with magical thumbs. He pulls Wu Fan back for taste more honey sweetness in his mouth. They won’t go further than this today, but the thought that they’re going to have more in the future makes Chanyeol want to break out into dancing on top of the roof. But right now is not a good idea.
They indulge in a few more kisses before Chanyeol is stifling a small yawn and Wu Fan notices (he always does).
“Sleep. We both have classes tomorrow,” Wu Fan says, leaning to turn the lamp off.
“I should shower,” Chanyeol mumbles, but not with any enthusiasm because he really doesn’t have any energy to actually move (his adrenalin rush from before is wearing off and his 3 hours of sleep is catching up on him). The kiss Wu Fan leaves on his forehead leaves a white-hot imprint.
“In the morning.”
Chanyeol is all wrapped up and enfolded inside Wu Fan’s hold and he smiles sleepily and contentedly. This isn’t going to be the first time that he sleepovers at Wu Fan’s room, but it is the first time that he does so without a sleeping bag.
Tomorrow, his friends are so going to wolf-whistle and tease him about succeeding on his mission to seduce Wu Yi Fan. He finds the thought almost amusing, because he kind of did succeed, he thinks as darkness envelops him.
Take Care of Me: sick!au Jongdae just has a headache and Junmyeon's being annoying. As usual.
"My head hurts,” Jongdae said.
He huffed when he got no response.
“My head hurts,” he said just a little louder.
“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” Junmyeon glared at him, mouth slanting sideways.
Jondgdae shifted underneath the covers, squinting up at his best friend (my god, Junmyeon’s bed was so freaking plushy and comfortable, like he could sink into it and never come up for air).
“I don’t know.” He knew he sounded sulky but he was sick for goodness sakes and he was never sick. This was like. Once every few years, and god he forgot how much his sinuses felt clogged and his whole system was like. Trying to drag him down into the Pit of the Undead.
“You suck,” Jongdae told Junmyeon as he deigned to ignore him and his complaints.
“Yes,” Junmyeon replied with just the slightest bit of innuendo smugness. “I do. Quite well, actually.”
“Ugh.” Jongdae didn’t even bother to throw the pillow nestling under his head because a) he needed it and b) he had no strength to. He shivered, drawing the covers closer to himself.
“You’re still cold? I filched every single blanket from the corners of this apartment and piled it on top of you and you’re still cold?” Junmyeon’s voice, although loud and bitchy, was usually kind of soothing. For Jongdae anyway. He could fall asleep on a soundtrack of Junmyeon’s nagging, if only because he had heard it so many times (and had fallen asleep to his best friend ranting about something before, usually someone who pissed him off that day, actually). Today, though, with all of Narnia threatening to burst from the closet that is Jongdae’s mind and wreck havoc, it felt like gongs banging around. He winced.
Junmyeon obviously noticed (he only noticed these things but never the stuff that counted - never Jongdae’s curled up smile disappearing after seeing someone else hold Junmyeon’s hand - never that). He lowered his voice. “Did you take your medicine?” in a very resigned tone.
Jongdae’s voice was feeling hoarse so he just poked his nose into the blankets and nodded. It was still so so cold.
His eyes were barely closed when he felt something burrowing at his side and he yelped, moving away.
“What are you doing?” He squeaked, only for Junmyeon’s hands to reach out and put the covers over both of them.
“Solving the fucking problem,” he felt a mumble against his neck as Junmyeon’s arms went around his waist and their chests bump against each other and now Jongdae had an entirely different reason to shiver.
He didn’t feel like the chill was about to reach into his body and freeze him like a frozen popsicle any more, not with Junmyeon’s heat enclosed all around him. His breathing is more even now, and he tentatively rested his cold feet against Junmyeon’s (covered by socks or else he would’ve been hit for that) and might or might not have snuggled against the comfortable scent of Junmyeon. He allowed himself to melt and sigh a little.
This was enough. For now.
Spice It Up: (with equal helpings of Jundae) students with powers!au Jongdae thought that this new student, Park Chanyeol, was a bit strange but very likeable nonetheless. Someone who he believed was ordinary, at least, until he was proven wrong.
Everyone knew that the Dragon was dangerous. He was hard to get close to. He was a man that was regarded somewhat like a celebrity, although maybe more with a sort of awe reserved for people like princes and generals.
Nothing much was known about him except for his high rank and no one really knew his power either. Just that he could leave indelible scars on a battlefield seconds after he was supposedly outnumbered. It had something to do with air, Jongdae bet. Because there were six main elements (Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Dark, and Light) and that was what most people believed anyway. The Dragon - his name was Kris even though it probably was just a pseudonym - was rarely seen walking around although the times that the media and the cameras were able to catch him, he was alone. But there was a silver ring nestled comfortably on his ring finger, and that had always been the source of never ending gossip.
Jongdae pursed his lips as he strode into the Academy, not even bothering to carry a book bag as many other students did. He had a more convenient way to lug books around. He sighed contentedly as he settled down in his seat and reached into a pocket of shadow for his notebook. The solid wall rippled under his fingers and gave way into his oh-so-nice-and-awesome shadow pocket where he kept most of his stuff (even his keys because he was prone to forgetting them).
He was prepared for another afternoon of relaxed napping through lectures when the sliding door opened to reveal Junmyeon. Jongdae’s spine reflexively straightened, and all of a sudden he didn’t know whether or not he should look directly at the Student President. His fingers twitched when their eyes ended up holding each other’s gaze anyway, and Junmyeon gave him a little smirk from the corners of his mouth and ohgod Jongdae was forgetting how to breath all over a g a i n.
It was just one night, just one kiss - and that was all that happened, and yet a heated rush of jittering feelings always consumed him whenever he thought back to it. A masquerade party that he hadn’t planned on attending, even though it was the school’s tradition; he went anyway because Yixing was being his nagging self. It was easy to recognize Junmyeon even with his simply decorated face mask (partly because he had been harboring a crush for years) and he had been dragged off into a dimly lit corner. Junmyeon’s eyes had been wickedly dark and he pulled all sorts of strange gasping noises from Jongdae’s mouth because who knew the Student President could kiss like that? One thing was sure though. He wasn’t all that innocent as he appeared.
It simply made Jongdae fall that much harder.
“I’m here to introduce a new transfer student,” Junmyeon said smoothly with that flawless angelic smile. The teacher was respectfully standing on the side, letting Junmyeon do his duty.
A tall guy who, despite the long limbs, managed to make his movements look strangely graceful was standing next to Junmyeon and gave the class a mismatched wide smile. Jongdae, oddly enough, liked him at first glance. He was a pretty boy, although that was hard to notice when his smile was so wide it could give someone else a scare in the middle of the night.
“I’m Park Chanyeol.” That voice alone made several students jump and jitter in their seats, for reasons. There was some sniggering from some boys who were probably going to pick on him later on because it had been awhile since they’ve found new prey and they were mean enough to do that. Chanyeol looked like he would be easy to pick on as well. Jongdae was not going to let that happen if he could help it. He was already raising protective hackles over this boy even though he had no idea why.
“There’s an empty seat next to me,” Jongdae said while lazily raising an arm. The whole class shifted in their seats to stare at him because he rarely was present in class - as in, his body was present, but everything else was not (read: sleeping in class or just plain daydreaming).
“Thank you, Jongdae,” Junmyeon said. The way his own name rolled off Junmyeon’s tongue like it was an exotic delicacy gave him goosebumps. Was this what flirting felt like? It was thrilling.
“Jongdae, right?” Chanyeol leaned, all bright and enthusiastically, as he wriggled into his seat. His legs were too long for the desk.
Jongdae nodded, finding it quite easy to smile in front of his new classmate and possibly friend. There was a kind of contagiousness to the other guy’s smile.
The class lecture started, and instead of rolling his eyes and putting his head on his arms to sleep as usual, he was distracted with a piece of paper being thrown onto his desk. Chanyeol had neat, elegant handwriting - exactly the opposite of his expectations. Jongdae spent the rest of the lecture trying to explain in writing what the lecture was about and they started delving into other small talk.
This was apparently Chanyeol’s first time inside this kind of school - a school that taught students how to control their strange powers. I was homeschooled before, Chanyeol wrote in his pretty script.
Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it here, Jongdae wrote extra sarcastically, and Chanyeol seemed to get the sarcasm a little because he chortled next to him upon getting the note.
“Is he the new guy?” Yixing pointed his fork at Chanyeol, who Jongdae suspected had some form of mild ADHD because he was distracted by every new little thing inside the school. It took them forever to get to the cafeteria.
“Yup.” Jongdae plucked the banana from Yixing’s other hand and stuffed his mouth with it, earning an offended jab to the side. “Everyone, meet Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol, this is everyone.”
“Hi!” Chanyeol chirped. And apparently the charm that worked on Jongdae worked on everyone else too, because Kyungsoo was patting the empty seat next to him and Jongin was staring inquisitively at Chanyeol over Sehun’s shoulder. Yixing spared him a smile before going back to his attempt of regaining his lost banana.
“Oh look, there’s Junmyeon.” Yixing pointed, and Jongdae’s head turned around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.
“Where?”
Yixing snickered as he took back his half-eaten banana. “Works every time.”
A horribly strangled sound emerged from Jongdae’s throat and he was just about to leap onto Yixing to strangle one of his best friends when Chanyeol’s head turned to his direction as well.
“Oh, Junmyeon!” Chanyeol said. This time the whole table turned to see the Student President actually standing there (where the hell did he pop from?).
“Good to see that you’re adjusting well here.” And holy urmph, Junmyeon’s voice and face and everything always ended up paralyzing Jongdae and giving him sweaty palms.
“I am, thanks for guiding me around the school,” Chanyeol said, and surprisingly did not say more. His eyes flitted to Jongdae and Jongdae unfroze a little to notice that Junmyeon was also looking at him with an odd light in his eyes.
When Junmyeon walked away, Chanyeol scooted closer to whisper in Jongdae’s ear: “I think you should ask him out. He looks interested.”
Jongdae turned bright tomato red and Yixing had surprisingly heard because he laughed and hi-fived Chanyeol because “I had been trying to tell him that the whole past year!”
A few days into the new semester, everyone in Jongdae’s class had adjusted to Chanyeol’s presence in the room. They had seemingly assessed him and his just-barely-passing test scores and deemed him as moderately insignificant and somewhat of a smiley airhead. Jongdae was still struggling with the fact that there existed someone who could be that bubbly every single day.
Weirdly enough, he was bubbly but not annoyingly so. That was rather hard to achieve but there was a steadiness about Chanyeol’s tone of voice even though he was always moving in some way. A finger tapping out staccato rhythms on the desk. A knee bobbing up and down and an occasional head bob to go along with it. He also liked to play with a ring that glinted in shades of silver, which was around his neck and was weirdly familiar looking.
Even though Jongdae clearly didn’t give a shit, this Academy was one of the most prestigious and students who graduated with top marks often went on to make a name for themselves. The Academy was special to the point that it was its own jurisdiction inside this country. Many graduates hoped to reach the level of the Dragon, or the even more mysterious Phoenix.
“Your grades are good though,” Chanyeol said dubiously. Jongdae was too slow in hiding his new test this time around. His face at Chanyeol’s statement brought realization on his face. “Oh, did you not want other people to know that you’re some kind of genius?”
“I just study and take good notes,” Jongdae said steadily. They stared at each other for a good few seconds before breaking out into laughter because they both knew that Jongdae never did that.
“Well,” Chanyeol shrugged as he stretched, “That explains why you can take the luxury of sleeping during class. You understand everything already.”
Jongdae made a ‘humph’ kind of noise, choosing to toss everything (including Chanyeol’s stuff because he got too lazy to lug them back home too when there was practically no homework that day) into his shadow pocket. The three girls sitting in front of them were making some kind of commotion over a magazine article. They were squealing as the middle one turned a page and kept jumping around in excitement. More girls were gathering around them now that class ended.
Jongdae sighed. Oh, he knew what they were fangirling over. Kris again. He respected him a lot, but just not to that extent.
Chanyeol, evidently, was ignorant to this weekly ritual. He was blinking and peering to see the pictures they were looking at.
“He’s so hot,” one girl said, “I’m going to melt into a puddle.” And even the more mature girls were nodding along to the agreeing sighs.
Before the usual worshipping began where they all started bringing out their cell phone pictures in a competition to see who had more Kris photos saved onto their phone, Chanyeol said, like he was commenting on the goddamn weather: “Oh. That’s my husband.”
The classroom had never seen that much silence before. And that was saying something, because silence should not be able to be seen, and yet it was that tangible. Even the guys, as they were heading out of the door, swiveled their heads around to stare.
Jongdae was not really sure how he should react. Laugh?
That was what one of the girls chose to do, her name was Lauren or Victoria or something of the like? Jongdae was just going to mentally stick with Victoria. “Oh, I didn’t know you liked Kris too,” she said. Her smile revealed a bit of teeth, almost challengingly. “It’s okay, we can include you in our fanclub.”
She had interpreted his sentence as one of those typical fan claims - many girls called Kris their hubby just because if they say it enough, maybe it will become real.
“There’s a fanclub?” Chanyeol looked less than impressed, even though one of the co-presidents of the most influential fanclubs ever was extending an olive branch out to him. Jongdae’s eye twitched, because he could save Chanyeol from potential bullies but not fangirls.
“Let him think about it,” Jongdae said in a rush, already dragging Chanyeol out the door before the bloodshed could begin.
“What were you thinking?” He hissed once they were outside. “Did you want to be killed? Why did you say that?”
Chanyeol’s mouth was twitching with amusement, out of all things. “I forgot how scary fangirls could be.”
“What?” Jongdae could barely believe that he still looked calm even though he just spouted one of the strangest sentence that he had ever heard coming from Park Chanyeol’s mouth today - and there were many, trust him.
“Oh there’s Junmyeon.” Chanyeol waved one of his lanky arms. “Junmyeon!”
Jongdae didn’t even get to say another word when his wrist was gripped tightly and he was forcibly dragged to stop in front of Junmyeon (who looked really really good and maybe kind of lickable in his buttoned up shirt and jeans).
“Hi guys,” Junmyeon said, adjusting his backpack strap with one arm. He was all nice-smile-guy as usual, and Jongdae felt his blood boil from almost frustration because he knew there was more underneath that smile.
“Are you free right now?” Chanyeol’s head tilted, almost a bit cutely. “Do you want to hang out with us? We’re going to that café next to the music store right now.”
Jongdae half-spluttered, because hadn’t they agreed on going straight home today?
“Yup.” Junmyeon’s eyes were resting rather heavily on Jongdae. He turned back to Chanyeol with an easy-going smile. “I’m free.”
Jongdae somehow made it to the café without spontaneously exploding from the lingering brushes of his hand with Junmyeon’s as they walked and just his presence was enough to want to shrivel up in the amount of feels.
Just as they were going to order their drinks, Chanyeol made a gasp. He hit his palm with a fist, almost too exaggeratedly, and said, “I forgot something at school. Don’t wait for me, guys.”
Jongdae was left to gape after his disappearing figure, and then the cashier was asking him what kind of order he would like. What kind of stuff would Chanyeol have left if they were all stored in his shadow pocket?
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Chanyeol’s text read: Have fun with Junmyeon!
The peace sign next to the emoticon at the end of the message was enough to make him gurgle.
“Is something wrong?” Junmyeon was looking at him like he knew that Chanyeol had just ditched them so that they could alone together and oh god Jongdae was going to start hyperventilating any moment now.
“No,” his voice came out kind of steady even though he felt like a mess inside right now. “Not at all.”
He almost dropped his latte when Junmyeon’s finger brushed purposefully from his shoulder down to his elbow. Junmyeon lightly chuckled, eyes dancing.
“You’re so sensitive,” he said, his voice lower than before.
Jongdae’s heart was suddenly pounding painfully against his chest. He was pretty sure he resembled a frozen statue.
Not to be outdone, though, he retorted, “I’m just ticklish.”
“Hmmmm.” Was it possible that Junmyeon could make a sound as meaningless as that sound sexy? Yes, yes it was.
They had somehow reached a park after walking around aimlessly. Jongdae noticed that Junmyeon didn’t really leave a space between them when they sat down.
“So,” Jongdae said, “Is this a date? Because it’s an awfully quiet one.”
That startled laughter from Junmyeon. “Yes, it is a date.”
Whatever courage that he had used with that one question left him at Junmyeon’s simple reply. He opened his mouth but no sound left him. He felt rather like that frog in those fairy tales.
“Would you like to be my boyfriend, Jongdae?” Junmyeon’s arm was resting on the bench around Jongdae’s shoulder and he was leaning in so close Jongdae could count his eyelashes. “Because just warning you, I’m not the kind of person people usually expect me to be.”
“I know,” his honesty surprised both of them. “I liked that.”
There was that dangerous little smirk on the corners of his lips again, and Jongdae had been waiting for that long to see it again. “Was that a yes?”
“Yes, that was a yes.” And he breathed in and latched onto Junmyeon’s lips. He earned a quick gasp before Junmyeon’s hand was possessively on his back, holding him there.
“My boyfriend’s rather enthusiastic, isn’t he?” It was obvious that Junmyeon took pleasure in calling Jongdae that. Jongdae also flushed too easily.
“Shut up,” he said. And leaned in for more.
“Say it,” Chanyeol said triumphantly tomorrow when Jongdae walked into the classroom. “I’m a genius.”
“You’re a genius,” Jongdae said resignedly. “Thank you for your matchmaking skills.”
Chanyeol clapped like a seal. He really clapped like a seal.
Everyone had apparently heard, either shooting Jongdae jealous looks or calling out congratulations. Not used to the attention, he just nodded awkwardly (because why would people say congratulations? It wasn’t like he won the marathon or anything). At lunch, Yixing was sighing over how he and Junmyeon finally got together and everyone else at the table was either tossing food at each other because the food was disgusting that day or trying to ignore Yixing’s melodramatic rants.
Oh, and Junmyeon sat next to him.
Which made his stomach clench and all, but yeah.
If he thought about it too long, blood would over flood his cheeks.
It was a special schedule today because they had a class that helped them actually practice their powers instead of being lectured at. Jongdae just remembered that it was also Chanyeol’s first class in this because the instructor was calling him up to demonstrate to the class what his most impressive skill was.
“Oh, urm,” Chanyeol said, looking strangely nervous for once, shuffling his feet. “Well, this is something that I’ve worked on for years, actually.”
Everyone held their breath in anticipation, and then Chanyeol raised his arm. A small flicker of fire, just enough to light a candle, danced on his fingertip. He beamed at the rest of the class like it was the hugest inferno fireball ever and some people actually face-palmed while others laughed a bit meanly and almost in relief.
Jongdae was still in disbelief when Chanyeol settled back into his seat with something like a pout on his face. Was that seriously his best skill?
“I really did work for years on that,” Chanyeol said, and sulked for the rest of the class because no one else could apparently appreciate a small flicker of flame.
The next class rolled in and Jongdae jolted awake when Genie by SNSD came on in ring tone. Of course it happened to be Chanyeol’s ring tone. He smiled bashfully at the teacher and excused himself from class. When Jongdae wandered out for the bathroom (and because he was just a tidbit curious), he saw Chanyeol leaning against the doorway of an empty classroom, surprisingly not saying a lot back to the caller. It was the smile that made Jongdae stop in his tracks and do a double take. It wasn’t the typical wide-eyed mismatched smile but a softer kind, with all sorts of lovely memories in the corners of his mouth and the stars that shone out of his eyes. Jongdae felt like he was intruding in on something that maybe he shouldn’t have seen. He only caught a name, Yifan, and teasing laughter following the ends of that name before it faded away with the echoes of his footsteps.
Of course he wondered who that person was to Chanyeol, but it was quite easy to guess.
“Did you see the papers today?” Jongdae gestured wildly as he set down the newspapers on Chanyeol’s desk. “It’s on the front page.”
Chanyeol skimmed the page and nodded, actually really kind of calmly. “Oh yes. I saw.”
Jongdae started flailing, just barely hitting one of the students walking by. “The Principal of our school doesn’t just get arrested everyday.”
Chanyeol nodded again. “Took quite awhile too.”
Before he could bother trying to figure out what that sentence meant, Chanyeol was pointing at something else on the front page and commenting on it. Jongdae filed it away as something to think about later.
Later never came. Instead, something else decided to come. Or more specifically, someone else.
It was break time, to be frank, with everyone from their lunch table gathered around Jongdae’s and Chanyeol’s desk because apparently their classroom was the quietest usually. Break time was kind of like an extra period where students could use it for studying, catching up on homework, or maybe just hang out - which was what they did.
The school exploded into chaos pretty quickly. It was quite like a chain, somewhat like an action potential going up the axons of a neuron. People peeked out of the classrooms and crowded up the hallways, a general sense of excitement filling the air. Most didn’t even know what was happening; they just joined the crowd because the more the merrier.
“Is there a giant elephant inside the school or something? Why are they so hyped up,” Jongdae said. His boyfriend, who usually was updated on school happenings because he was the Student President and all, gave him a helpless shrug and an amused quirk of the brow.
Chanyeol had straightened up from the card game that some of them were unenthusiastically playing and cocked his head. He smiled, and Jongdae blinked because it was that same adoring smile he saw in the empty hallway and the cell phone incident.
“Yifan,” Chanyeol said quietly. Then his expression quickly changed to exasperation. “Why’s that idiot here?”
“Who?” Yixing asked, echoed almost amusingly by everyone else. But by then, the crowd of students had swarmed into their classrooms and now Jongdae could see why there was such a big commotion.
The Dragon was here.
He was actually here, in flesh and bones, Kris - one of the most powerfully ranked men in this country and the one the media would go through hell and back just to snap a few more photos of because he was just that famous.
A hand covered his and squeezed, assuring Jongdae that yes, this was very much real and not a product of his own imagination and all. He squeezed Junmyeon’s hand back. He probably needed the grounding too.
The Dragon just didn’t even blink an eye, looking like the classroom was a runway strip and he was still walking towards them until he stopped. A few inches. Away from Chanyeol’s desk.
“Chanyeol,” Kris said, a lingering warmth in the last syllable. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were fixated on the tall, slightly awkward boy who everyone had assumed to be utterly ordinary until this. He didn’t seem to be intimidated by the attention at all, and his expression was still that cross between amusement and exasperation.
“I was in the middle of a very important card game, Yifan,” Chanyeol said, and Jongdae almost choked because that was one of the most boring card games he had ever witnessed, but then Chanyeol kind of just stopped everyone’s thought processes and leaned up to kiss Kris.
On the mouth.
It was a peck, but still.
Lots of people had their jaws wide open, and if Jongdae weren’t in the same unfortunate condition, he would’ve snapped a lot of photos and then laughed over their expressions later.
Kris - who was also apparently that mysterious Yifan, okay - laughed lightly and hugged Chanyeol with his arms winding around his waist. Jongdae thought he saw a girl pass out into the arms of her friend.
“Hi,” Kris said softly into Chanyeol’s mouth and Jongdae kind of felt like a voyeur but everyone else was staring unabashedly too. It was just that the couple was clearly in their own world.
“Did you just trespass into my school?” Chanyeol asked, a note of teasing indignation in his tone.
Kris shrugged. “It wasn’t like the security guard gave me any issues.”
A snort in response. “Probably too busy gaping at you to think.”
“Not my fault I’m so good-looking.”
“Good looking, my ass. Just because your mother is a beautiful woman who happened to pass on her genes to you - stop laughing at me!”
“Missed you too.”
No one wanted to break their singular concentration on each other but the teacher had marched in. She waded through the crowd, hair a mess, and demanded: “What’s happening here - Oh.”
She spotted Chanyeol and Kris holding each other and her eyes bugged out. She lost her speech functions like the rest of them.
“Sorry,” Chanyeol said. “I’ll tell him to alert you guys next time.”
“Next time,” Jongdae repeated incredulously, and then realized he spoke out loud. Whoops.
“Ahaha, your face is funny, Jongdae,” Chanyeol said, grinning. He just seemed to take in the reactions of everyone around them. “Actually, all of you look so surprised. I did say that Kris was my husband before, didn’t I?”
Victoria let out a squeak before muffling her mouth with her hand.
In hindsight, everything was so unbelievably obvious to Jongdae. Chanyeol sat them all down (Jongdae and his other friends, so a lot of people that were left insatiably curious had to hear it second-hand from Yixing who wrote for the school newspaper - and even he edited out some details later) in a bubble tea store and tried to explain everything. The beam he gave Kris after he brought back a drink for the both of them was enough sugar to last Jongdae for a lifetime and he had to lean sideways to whisper-ask Junmyeon if they were like that too as a couple please tell him they weren’t as disgustingly cute like that as well. Junmyeon laughed back at him and told him that sorry to disappoint you, but yes, we are as cute as that. Just with a bit more spice and sarcasm.
“I,” Chanyeol paused (they were leaning forwards, and Kyungsoo groaned to show that he could feel the suspense) to drink from the taro bubble tea, “am the Phoenix.”
There was a silence enough to suffocate all other silences.
“Well,” Jongdae drawled out. “Nice to know. Why am I not surprised anymore?”
“You guys believe me?” Chanyeol looked up through his eyelashes. “Really?”
“The Dragon appeared out of nowhere and you expect us not to believe you? Really?” That was Jongin squawking with ridiculous arm gestures. If it weren’t for Sehun his practical twin-yet-not-really-twin hanging all over him, he would’ve hit everyone sitting around the table.
“He was here mostly for his mission,” Kris said, and his presence was really larger than life. It felt like he could fell a few planets with a few choice words.
“But I’m staying for the rest of the school year,” Chanyeol latched on. “School was more fun than I thought! Especially with you guys.”
“That was like an explanation that just gave us more answers, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon steadily said. “Could you go from the beginning?”
Chanyeol did. He had been assigned the mission of investigating the shadowy potentially illegal going-ons of their ex-Principal, and since the Academy was a jurisdiction of its own, he had to become one of the students in order to do it. The day that he had been matchmaking Jongdae and Junmyeon together was also the day he left them at the café and went back into the school to get more information. Two birds with one stone, in Chanyeol’s words.
“You’re like a cop undercover,” Jongdae said, making ‘hmm-ing’ noises. “Very impressive. I’m still in shock, actually. This will take awhile to set in. But was it just a joke then? That lesson when you said that little fireball was the best you could do?”
Kris snickered, obviously knowing what Jongdae was talking about. Chanyeol reddened.
“Yeah, err. I trained for years to do that actually. Kris helped,” Chanyeol said. Kyungsoo was staring with wide eyes while dredging the last parts of his bubble tea and Yixing’s hand was a blur as he tried to take notes. Chanyeol coughed self-consciously. “I’m actually really horrible at control, so it’s easier for me to set a warehouse on fire than light a candle.”
Jongdae settled back against Junmyeon’s arm, a strange noise coming from the back of his throat. Set a warehouse on fire. Of course the Phoenix could do that.
They still wanted more details, naturally (like how the hell did you two get together? And what the hell - how come no one really knows what you look like, Chanyeol? There were tons of photos of Kris but, that was answered later on one of many phone calls between Jongdae and Chanyeol, something about technology not working around Chanyeol when he didn’t want it to and he was better suited for undercover work anyway). But they had thrown out their bubble tea containers and Chanyeol was yawning, and tugging at Kris’ hand and waving them goodbye.
Jongdae almost half-thought that he wasn’t going to be at school tomorrow, but he was, and their classmates were varying between staring at Chanyeol like yesterday might’ve been some kind of dream and purposefully not staring at him.
“Eh,” Chanyeol just said. “They’ll forget about it soon enough.”
And they did, when upperclassmen Kim Heechul was caught in the closet with underclassman Jungmo and Heechul just smirked all through the day. But Jongdae will never forget.