Sidelines (EXO oneshot)
title: sidelines
author: himawarixxsandz
rating: pg-13
pairing(s): xiuhan, onesided!xiuchen
summary: he's just a spectator
a/n: i'll be leaving for boston, nyc, somewhere-in-PA, tomorrow and i won't be back until i think either the day after christmas or late christmas night and no wifi and no laptop sO this is my christmas present for you guys even tho it has nothing to do with christmas at all and i really wish i could've had something longer and better but well ;~; there you go. merry christmas and happy holidays and all the warm cozy feelings and everything and healthiness and happiness and oh god safety really with everything that's been happening and i'll be praying for all of you while i'm gone ^-^
On stage, he can take what he wants without asking and Minseok lets him have it-lets Jongdae take whatever he wants, as much as he wants, for as long as he wants, because they’re on stage and it’s just fanservice then. They’re friends (of course they are), but on stage, whatever Jongdae does is thought to be amping it up a little for the sake of their fans-for fun, too-from adrenaline-and Jongdae revels in those short, few moments that he’s allowed to have. To an extent, he can take whenever they’re in public, really-at airports, while they’re waiting for their turn beside the stage, when they’re walking from one venue to another. As long as there are fans in the vicinity, there are no questions asked-no explanations needed.
He’s never allowed to take as much as Luhan, though.
Oh-Jongdae is sure that he could-if he wanted to, if he dared to, he could push his boundaries that thinly and slide a hand too low on Minseok, slide fingers too close, hug too tightly-it could all be called fanservice too, could be filed away in that category, he’s certain. But he would risk Minseok’s smiles and grins at him faltering-he would risk questions asked once they’re out of the public gaze-he would risk Luhan frowning at him-he would risk Wufan and Zitao and Yixing furrowing their eyebrows at him.
(everyone knows Minseok and Luhan have a thing-a fairly established, loving, caring, monogamous thing ever since maybe a year before debut)
(no one knows Jongdae has a thing
an unrequited, painful, yearning, lonely thing for Minseok ever since a month after debut)
He always makes sure to stay within permitted lines-doesn’t stray beyond what Wufan, Zitao and Yixing would do to Minseok for friendship-for messing around with their fans-for fanservice-from an adrenaline rush. He stands back and keeps his eyes at the audience, focuses on the warm and enthusiastic smiles of their fans while shrill screams ring through his ears at the sight of Luhan crushing his body against Minseok right beside Jongdae.
He tries not to let his eyes wander to how big the smile on Minseok’s face is.
During their stays in China, Jongdae likes spending more time on the couch in the living area than he does in his and Wufan’s room. The couch feels like it molds around his body in all the right places, and no one else seems to mind him hogging the entirety of the space, draping himself all over the cushions and armrests. There’s a Korean-to-Mandarin dictionary balanced on his stomach as he thumbs through the pages idly on the request of their manager to brush up a bit-maybe come up with some funny things to say for their next appearance-before it’s time to head to the practice room.
It’s when Jongdae is on the couch, during their short instances of downtime, that Minseok wanders into the adjoined kitchen-sometimes for a drink of water, sometimes for a bite of food, most times just to stare disinterestedly into the refrigerator before closing it and returning empty-handed. More times than not, Minseok swerves around the counter and pads into the living room, dragging Jongdae’s legs off one side of the couch so that the older boy can sit there.
A hand appears on top of the dictionary, pulling it down so that their eyes meet and Jongdae is nearly blinded by Minseok’s brilliant smile-filled with tiny teeth and vanishing eyes and full cheeks and pink gums and messy hair. Jongdae blinks and Minseok takes the book out of the younger boy’s hands, tossing it haphazardly onto the coffee table. “You’re bored,” Minseok states matter-of-factly.
“No,” Jongdae says, and tries to paint on an expression that will convey how interesting Mandarin is to him.
Minseok’s smile shifts into a grin. “You’re bored,” he repeats and then stands up, wrapping a small hand round Jongdae’s wrist and yanking the vocalist to his feet. He leads Jongdae to the front door, motions for Jongdae to put on a hat and shoes-and a face-mask-as Minseok does the same, and without any further thoughts, Jongdae allows himself to be pulled out of the house (sneaking out of the house) and onto the streets.
They don’t do much-Minseok drags them around to a few street vendors to fill their stomachs with simple, warm food before leading the way to a tiny café squished between two office buildings. They’re lucky in that they haven’t bumped into any fans, and this isn’t as weird as the first time Minseok spontaneously took Jongdae out of the house (met by severe repercussions by their panicked managers and a livid Wufan afterward). They’ve done it several times since, each time easier without getting caught.
Jongdae never questions what these excursions are-never asks for a larger motive because, in reality, that’s just wishful thinking. He wishes that this all signified something greater than just Minseok wanting to spend time with a dongsaeng-he wishes that it’s only him that’s privy to Minseok’s playful smiles around a spoonful of cake or a straw dipped into bubble tea, when he’s seen plenty of times, Minseok doing the exact same for Yixing or Zitao whenever they’re bored or homesick or weary.
(he’s seen Minseok doing the exact same with Baekhyun and Chanyeol and Junmyeon and Jongin and Sehun Kyungsoo whenever EXO-M returns to Korea after too long a period of time)
Minseok can never convince Wufan to sneak out, and Jongdae knows that Minseok doesn’t try to convince their leader because Wufan needs to set an example (is the closest watched by their managers). Jongdae does know, however, that Minseok almost always brings back chocolate bread or candy or chips or something to Wufan every time the dancer sneaks out with one of the others.
“Is this place new?” Jongdae asks as they take seats in the café. Normally, Minseok brings Jongdae to another café that’s become their regular.
“I don’t know, actually,” Minseok answers curiously, glancing around. He flashes a smile at Jongdae. “Luhan brought me here. Said it’s his favorite.”
Jongdae grins back mechanically.
(and doesn’t think about how Luhan and Minseok rarely ever go out-how they look at each other, meet each other’s eyes, and smile and kiss and laugh and hold hands and grin and chuckle and talk and play and tease and they never have to go on a single date and they’re perfectly content wherever they’re allowed to go as long as it’s with each other)
When they return, they head immediately for the practice room because they know they’re running a few minutes late as it is and Jongdae hates looks of disappointment from Wufan. They burst into the room, breathless from running, and Jongdae lets out a relieved breath when he sees that Yixing and Zitao aren’t even in the room yet. Wufan is stretching, and Luhan is talking to him in Mandarin-rapid but casual.
“Yah,” Minseok calls out from the doorway playfully, “Duizhang.” And he tosses a bag of cookies at the same time that Wufan glances over. The leader catches them in his hand easily and grins his thanks.
Luhan turns, and walks towards them. Jongdae is frozen in place-can’t slip out of the scene-because Luhan is looking at him too. “Stealing him away?” Luhan directs at the vocalist and for a good, long moment, Jongdae can’t seem to find his tongue (he knows Luhan is joking-he knows it’s just a joke).
To make everything worse-to rub salt into the bleeding, gaping wound-Minseok wraps his arms around Jongdae’s waist, cheek pressed against Jongdae’s shoulder as the oldest member grins at Luhan. “Absolutely,” Minseok says firmly. “Cheating on you-yup.”
Jongdae thinks that he must have at least managed a semblance of amusement on his face because Minseok meets his eyes and smiles conspiratorially at him before patting him warmly on the back and letting go. He takes Luhan’s hand and they walk back towards Wufan at the same time that Zitao arrives at the doorway. Zitao begins to start up a conversation about stretching, steering Jongdae into another corner of the room as he does.
The vocalist hears barely any of it. His eyes can’t seem to take themselves off the way Luhan is kissing Minseok (sweet and playful and brief), while Wufan pretends to gag and roll his eyes and then the three oldest members are laughing over something Minseok says-and then Wufan is waving Jongdae and Zitao over and Zitao is dragging Jongdae over and Jongdae has to continue his charade of not-being-in-love-with-Kim-Minseok.
Luhan can take everything regardless of where they are.
On stage, during photoshoots, at the airport, when they’re out and about, during interviews-Luhan can take everything and he does take everything. His hands always find Minseok-somehow, the photographers always pair him and Minseok together-when they’re told to pose closer, Luhan whispers something into Minseok’s ear, pulls Minseok against his body, and Minseok laughs just in time for the cameras to flash and the photographer calls perfect, boys, good job. When they went to America, the air there-the sense of being far away from home once again-seems to float all through Luhan and Minseok and they touch even more, the dare even further, than Jongdae has seen them ever do so far beneath the public gaze.
(it hurts)
When they’re at home, Luhan takes everything and anything and leaves nothing left. The worst part is that there’s nothing for Jongdae, or any of the other members for that matter, to complain about because while Luhan has no qualms over kissing Minseok in front of them so long as the managers or any staff aren’t around, he and Minseok never go too far. They’re always respectful-tasteful-mindful, intensely adult and mature and grown-up about it, even as Yixing pokes fun at them on occasion.
There’s nothing for Jongdae to feel self-righteous about because Luhan never does anything that would warrant that. Luhan is a little overly daring and adventurous on stage, but then again so is Minseok-it’s a game for their fans. Off stage, the touches are feathery soft, sweetly light, teasingly gentle, and everything that’s hard and intense and lusty and desperate and mind-shattering and breathless is left always specifically for behind closed-locked-doors. Sometimes it’s obvious-sometimes they’ll walk into the practice room or the dressing room together and it’ll be more than obvious-both will be dripping with perspiration, clothes and hair askew, smiles goofy and sated, hands lingering and playful.
But for the most part, the most Jongdae will see of them physically is a kiss and a touch and whatever daredevil gropes they manage on stage for the fans-and as a result of the adrenaline right after or before performances.
(and yet he’d much rather walk into them having sex on every visible counter as long as they didn’t look at each other the way they always do-as long as Luhan didn’t only ever have eyes for Minseok, as long as Minseok didn’t always smile at Luhan’s every breath, as long as they both stopped gazing at each other on stage when they foolishly thought the spotlight was on Wufan or any of the others)
Jongdae feels a small, familiar hand slip into his at the airport-as they wait in line at Starbucks, buying coffees to kill time before boarding the flight back to Seoul. Minseok grins at him-full cheeks and pink gums and vanishing eyes and tiny teeth and everything that blinds and spears and tears and pains Jongdae. With all the strength he can muster, Jongdae paints a smile on his own face and tugs Minseok’s beanie over the older boy’s eyes, drawing a laugh from the dancer as he struggles to smooth his hair back down and push the hat up back out of his face.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to eat when we get back, Jongdae-ah?” Minseok asks brightly, squeezing the younger boy’s hand as they move up in the line.
Jongdae pretends to mull it over before promptly answering, “Dim sum.”
Minseok rolls his eyes and slaps Jongdae’s shoulder with his free hand. “Smartass.”
“You, hyung?” Jongdae smiles.
The dancer narrows his eyes, cheeks unconsciously puffing out as a result of pursed lips. He looks to Jongdae’s eyes with an answer poised on his mouth before arms suddenly wind around Minseok’s waist, pulling him back unsteadily and his hand leaves Jongdae’s. “Me,” Luhan grins against Minseok’s ear and meets Jongdae’s eyes playfully.
Jongdae is already prepared this time-a smile ready to paste across his face, a laugh ready to play from his mouth.
“Get away from me,” Minseok says, shoving Luhan away. “I’m allergic to you.”
“It’s because I’m poisonously attractive,” Luhan nods amicably, and that earns him another single-handed shove from Minseok.
Minseok raises his eyebrows in bright amusement. “Maybe you’re just not my taste.”
And Luhan’s eyes dart around quickly-hastily-a rushed glance at their surroundings to see who’s looking and who isn’t-before he kisses Minseok light and brief. “Liar,” Luhan whispers, with a nose-wrinkling smirk. He pinches Minseok cheek and draws back his hand just in time to dodge Minseok’s responding punch, dancing away and heading back to the waiting area where the managers and the rest of their group are.
Jongdae ignores the pain in his chest that’s just begging for him to double over, curl into something invisible and unnoticeable and never emerge. “Kim Jongdae,” Minseok says, tone filled with teasing solemnity as the older boy puts a firm hand on the vocalist’s shoulder. “Don’t ever date a girl like him.”
“I’ll be sure to find a girl who doesn’t have a dick and doesn’t look like Luhan-hyung,” Jongdae intones right back, and Minseok bursts into laughter.
“Good,” Minseok says, breathless from laughing. He reaches up and yanks Jongdae’s cap off of the vocalist’s head, putting it over his own beanie and sticking his tongue out. “You can get this back later.”
As Jongdae lets himself be pulled into a light tussle-tangled right there in a mess of limbs trying to get his hat back from Minseok (and Minseok laughs, dodging and running in circles as they lose their place in line and run all the way down to another store entirely in this terribly stupid game that’ll probably have Yixing and Wufan glum from having to wait another half an hour for their coffees)-as he listens to Minseok’s peals of ringing laughter, throws his arms around Minseok just because in this moment of hyung-and-dongsaeng, teammate-with-teammate, Jongdae is allowed to hold Minseok-as he does all this, his heart shatters anew and he doesn’t even care.
(one day, Jongdae will draw the lines and move on-make the painful break so he can learn to stop loving someone who’ll never love him back-but until then-)
He lets Minseok finally relinquish the cap, putting it on Jongdae’s head as they trod back to the end of the line (thankfully shorter), and set out to wait to order coffees. Minseok slips his hand into Jongdae’s again with an easy smile and Jongdae smiles back (swallows the uneasiness and pain and want and Jongdae is happy in this moment).
author: himawarixxsandz
rating: pg-13
pairing(s): xiuhan, onesided!xiuchen
summary: he's just a spectator
a/n: i'll be leaving for boston, nyc, somewhere-in-PA, tomorrow and i won't be back until i think either the day after christmas or late christmas night and no wifi and no laptop sO this is my christmas present for you guys even tho it has nothing to do with christmas at all and i really wish i could've had something longer and better but well ;~; there you go. merry christmas and happy holidays and all the warm cozy feelings and everything and healthiness and happiness and oh god safety really with everything that's been happening and i'll be praying for all of you while i'm gone ^-^
On stage, he can take what he wants without asking and Minseok lets him have it-lets Jongdae take whatever he wants, as much as he wants, for as long as he wants, because they’re on stage and it’s just fanservice then. They’re friends (of course they are), but on stage, whatever Jongdae does is thought to be amping it up a little for the sake of their fans-for fun, too-from adrenaline-and Jongdae revels in those short, few moments that he’s allowed to have. To an extent, he can take whenever they’re in public, really-at airports, while they’re waiting for their turn beside the stage, when they’re walking from one venue to another. As long as there are fans in the vicinity, there are no questions asked-no explanations needed.
He’s never allowed to take as much as Luhan, though.
Oh-Jongdae is sure that he could-if he wanted to, if he dared to, he could push his boundaries that thinly and slide a hand too low on Minseok, slide fingers too close, hug too tightly-it could all be called fanservice too, could be filed away in that category, he’s certain. But he would risk Minseok’s smiles and grins at him faltering-he would risk questions asked once they’re out of the public gaze-he would risk Luhan frowning at him-he would risk Wufan and Zitao and Yixing furrowing their eyebrows at him.
(everyone knows Minseok and Luhan have a thing-a fairly established, loving, caring, monogamous thing ever since maybe a year before debut)
(no one knows Jongdae has a thing
an unrequited, painful, yearning, lonely thing for Minseok ever since a month after debut)
He always makes sure to stay within permitted lines-doesn’t stray beyond what Wufan, Zitao and Yixing would do to Minseok for friendship-for messing around with their fans-for fanservice-from an adrenaline rush. He stands back and keeps his eyes at the audience, focuses on the warm and enthusiastic smiles of their fans while shrill screams ring through his ears at the sight of Luhan crushing his body against Minseok right beside Jongdae.
He tries not to let his eyes wander to how big the smile on Minseok’s face is.
During their stays in China, Jongdae likes spending more time on the couch in the living area than he does in his and Wufan’s room. The couch feels like it molds around his body in all the right places, and no one else seems to mind him hogging the entirety of the space, draping himself all over the cushions and armrests. There’s a Korean-to-Mandarin dictionary balanced on his stomach as he thumbs through the pages idly on the request of their manager to brush up a bit-maybe come up with some funny things to say for their next appearance-before it’s time to head to the practice room.
It’s when Jongdae is on the couch, during their short instances of downtime, that Minseok wanders into the adjoined kitchen-sometimes for a drink of water, sometimes for a bite of food, most times just to stare disinterestedly into the refrigerator before closing it and returning empty-handed. More times than not, Minseok swerves around the counter and pads into the living room, dragging Jongdae’s legs off one side of the couch so that the older boy can sit there.
A hand appears on top of the dictionary, pulling it down so that their eyes meet and Jongdae is nearly blinded by Minseok’s brilliant smile-filled with tiny teeth and vanishing eyes and full cheeks and pink gums and messy hair. Jongdae blinks and Minseok takes the book out of the younger boy’s hands, tossing it haphazardly onto the coffee table. “You’re bored,” Minseok states matter-of-factly.
“No,” Jongdae says, and tries to paint on an expression that will convey how interesting Mandarin is to him.
Minseok’s smile shifts into a grin. “You’re bored,” he repeats and then stands up, wrapping a small hand round Jongdae’s wrist and yanking the vocalist to his feet. He leads Jongdae to the front door, motions for Jongdae to put on a hat and shoes-and a face-mask-as Minseok does the same, and without any further thoughts, Jongdae allows himself to be pulled out of the house (sneaking out of the house) and onto the streets.
They don’t do much-Minseok drags them around to a few street vendors to fill their stomachs with simple, warm food before leading the way to a tiny café squished between two office buildings. They’re lucky in that they haven’t bumped into any fans, and this isn’t as weird as the first time Minseok spontaneously took Jongdae out of the house (met by severe repercussions by their panicked managers and a livid Wufan afterward). They’ve done it several times since, each time easier without getting caught.
Jongdae never questions what these excursions are-never asks for a larger motive because, in reality, that’s just wishful thinking. He wishes that this all signified something greater than just Minseok wanting to spend time with a dongsaeng-he wishes that it’s only him that’s privy to Minseok’s playful smiles around a spoonful of cake or a straw dipped into bubble tea, when he’s seen plenty of times, Minseok doing the exact same for Yixing or Zitao whenever they’re bored or homesick or weary.
(he’s seen Minseok doing the exact same with Baekhyun and Chanyeol and Junmyeon and Jongin and Sehun Kyungsoo whenever EXO-M returns to Korea after too long a period of time)
Minseok can never convince Wufan to sneak out, and Jongdae knows that Minseok doesn’t try to convince their leader because Wufan needs to set an example (is the closest watched by their managers). Jongdae does know, however, that Minseok almost always brings back chocolate bread or candy or chips or something to Wufan every time the dancer sneaks out with one of the others.
“Is this place new?” Jongdae asks as they take seats in the café. Normally, Minseok brings Jongdae to another café that’s become their regular.
“I don’t know, actually,” Minseok answers curiously, glancing around. He flashes a smile at Jongdae. “Luhan brought me here. Said it’s his favorite.”
Jongdae grins back mechanically.
(and doesn’t think about how Luhan and Minseok rarely ever go out-how they look at each other, meet each other’s eyes, and smile and kiss and laugh and hold hands and grin and chuckle and talk and play and tease and they never have to go on a single date and they’re perfectly content wherever they’re allowed to go as long as it’s with each other)
When they return, they head immediately for the practice room because they know they’re running a few minutes late as it is and Jongdae hates looks of disappointment from Wufan. They burst into the room, breathless from running, and Jongdae lets out a relieved breath when he sees that Yixing and Zitao aren’t even in the room yet. Wufan is stretching, and Luhan is talking to him in Mandarin-rapid but casual.
“Yah,” Minseok calls out from the doorway playfully, “Duizhang.” And he tosses a bag of cookies at the same time that Wufan glances over. The leader catches them in his hand easily and grins his thanks.
Luhan turns, and walks towards them. Jongdae is frozen in place-can’t slip out of the scene-because Luhan is looking at him too. “Stealing him away?” Luhan directs at the vocalist and for a good, long moment, Jongdae can’t seem to find his tongue (he knows Luhan is joking-he knows it’s just a joke).
To make everything worse-to rub salt into the bleeding, gaping wound-Minseok wraps his arms around Jongdae’s waist, cheek pressed against Jongdae’s shoulder as the oldest member grins at Luhan. “Absolutely,” Minseok says firmly. “Cheating on you-yup.”
Jongdae thinks that he must have at least managed a semblance of amusement on his face because Minseok meets his eyes and smiles conspiratorially at him before patting him warmly on the back and letting go. He takes Luhan’s hand and they walk back towards Wufan at the same time that Zitao arrives at the doorway. Zitao begins to start up a conversation about stretching, steering Jongdae into another corner of the room as he does.
The vocalist hears barely any of it. His eyes can’t seem to take themselves off the way Luhan is kissing Minseok (sweet and playful and brief), while Wufan pretends to gag and roll his eyes and then the three oldest members are laughing over something Minseok says-and then Wufan is waving Jongdae and Zitao over and Zitao is dragging Jongdae over and Jongdae has to continue his charade of not-being-in-love-with-Kim-Minseok.
Luhan can take everything regardless of where they are.
On stage, during photoshoots, at the airport, when they’re out and about, during interviews-Luhan can take everything and he does take everything. His hands always find Minseok-somehow, the photographers always pair him and Minseok together-when they’re told to pose closer, Luhan whispers something into Minseok’s ear, pulls Minseok against his body, and Minseok laughs just in time for the cameras to flash and the photographer calls perfect, boys, good job. When they went to America, the air there-the sense of being far away from home once again-seems to float all through Luhan and Minseok and they touch even more, the dare even further, than Jongdae has seen them ever do so far beneath the public gaze.
(it hurts)
When they’re at home, Luhan takes everything and anything and leaves nothing left. The worst part is that there’s nothing for Jongdae, or any of the other members for that matter, to complain about because while Luhan has no qualms over kissing Minseok in front of them so long as the managers or any staff aren’t around, he and Minseok never go too far. They’re always respectful-tasteful-mindful, intensely adult and mature and grown-up about it, even as Yixing pokes fun at them on occasion.
There’s nothing for Jongdae to feel self-righteous about because Luhan never does anything that would warrant that. Luhan is a little overly daring and adventurous on stage, but then again so is Minseok-it’s a game for their fans. Off stage, the touches are feathery soft, sweetly light, teasingly gentle, and everything that’s hard and intense and lusty and desperate and mind-shattering and breathless is left always specifically for behind closed-locked-doors. Sometimes it’s obvious-sometimes they’ll walk into the practice room or the dressing room together and it’ll be more than obvious-both will be dripping with perspiration, clothes and hair askew, smiles goofy and sated, hands lingering and playful.
But for the most part, the most Jongdae will see of them physically is a kiss and a touch and whatever daredevil gropes they manage on stage for the fans-and as a result of the adrenaline right after or before performances.
(and yet he’d much rather walk into them having sex on every visible counter as long as they didn’t look at each other the way they always do-as long as Luhan didn’t only ever have eyes for Minseok, as long as Minseok didn’t always smile at Luhan’s every breath, as long as they both stopped gazing at each other on stage when they foolishly thought the spotlight was on Wufan or any of the others)
Jongdae feels a small, familiar hand slip into his at the airport-as they wait in line at Starbucks, buying coffees to kill time before boarding the flight back to Seoul. Minseok grins at him-full cheeks and pink gums and vanishing eyes and tiny teeth and everything that blinds and spears and tears and pains Jongdae. With all the strength he can muster, Jongdae paints a smile on his own face and tugs Minseok’s beanie over the older boy’s eyes, drawing a laugh from the dancer as he struggles to smooth his hair back down and push the hat up back out of his face.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to eat when we get back, Jongdae-ah?” Minseok asks brightly, squeezing the younger boy’s hand as they move up in the line.
Jongdae pretends to mull it over before promptly answering, “Dim sum.”
Minseok rolls his eyes and slaps Jongdae’s shoulder with his free hand. “Smartass.”
“You, hyung?” Jongdae smiles.
The dancer narrows his eyes, cheeks unconsciously puffing out as a result of pursed lips. He looks to Jongdae’s eyes with an answer poised on his mouth before arms suddenly wind around Minseok’s waist, pulling him back unsteadily and his hand leaves Jongdae’s. “Me,” Luhan grins against Minseok’s ear and meets Jongdae’s eyes playfully.
Jongdae is already prepared this time-a smile ready to paste across his face, a laugh ready to play from his mouth.
“Get away from me,” Minseok says, shoving Luhan away. “I’m allergic to you.”
“It’s because I’m poisonously attractive,” Luhan nods amicably, and that earns him another single-handed shove from Minseok.
Minseok raises his eyebrows in bright amusement. “Maybe you’re just not my taste.”
And Luhan’s eyes dart around quickly-hastily-a rushed glance at their surroundings to see who’s looking and who isn’t-before he kisses Minseok light and brief. “Liar,” Luhan whispers, with a nose-wrinkling smirk. He pinches Minseok cheek and draws back his hand just in time to dodge Minseok’s responding punch, dancing away and heading back to the waiting area where the managers and the rest of their group are.
Jongdae ignores the pain in his chest that’s just begging for him to double over, curl into something invisible and unnoticeable and never emerge. “Kim Jongdae,” Minseok says, tone filled with teasing solemnity as the older boy puts a firm hand on the vocalist’s shoulder. “Don’t ever date a girl like him.”
“I’ll be sure to find a girl who doesn’t have a dick and doesn’t look like Luhan-hyung,” Jongdae intones right back, and Minseok bursts into laughter.
“Good,” Minseok says, breathless from laughing. He reaches up and yanks Jongdae’s cap off of the vocalist’s head, putting it over his own beanie and sticking his tongue out. “You can get this back later.”
As Jongdae lets himself be pulled into a light tussle-tangled right there in a mess of limbs trying to get his hat back from Minseok (and Minseok laughs, dodging and running in circles as they lose their place in line and run all the way down to another store entirely in this terribly stupid game that’ll probably have Yixing and Wufan glum from having to wait another half an hour for their coffees)-as he listens to Minseok’s peals of ringing laughter, throws his arms around Minseok just because in this moment of hyung-and-dongsaeng, teammate-with-teammate, Jongdae is allowed to hold Minseok-as he does all this, his heart shatters anew and he doesn’t even care.
(one day, Jongdae will draw the lines and move on-make the painful break so he can learn to stop loving someone who’ll never love him back-but until then-)
He lets Minseok finally relinquish the cap, putting it on Jongdae’s head as they trod back to the end of the line (thankfully shorter), and set out to wait to order coffees. Minseok slips his hand into Jongdae’s again with an easy smile and Jongdae smiles back (swallows the uneasiness and pain and want and Jongdae is happy in this moment).