Whole Lotta Glam (Sugar, Sweat, Spice.) → for haoxihuanni (3/4)
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Kris receives a confirmation letter a week later, confirming his lease split from Chanyeol but for some reason the news doesn’t hit him as hard as he thought, he merely files it away in his “important official shit” folder and heads out to work. He finally acquiesces and lets Tao drag him clubbing with his friends including a poker-faced blonde named Sehun and a permanently smiling bloke named Dongwoo who brings out all of his latent maternal instincts. He ends his almost two month long dry spell, taking home Sohee, an angelic-looking beauty who comes up behind him in the club and slides her hands in his front pockets. She’s stunning, all smooth, pale skin and soft thighs, hair fanning across his pillows. She asks to spend the night afterwards and he’s in a good enough mood to agree.
There was a sticky moment before, when he’d been thrusting into her, watching as she arched and moaned beneath him and he saw Minseok in the curve of her eyes, the alabaster of her skin and it had him coming sooner than he’d thought, moaning brokenly into her hair. Even now as looks at her sleeping face he can spot the similarities and it’s slightly unnerving.
***
“So let me get this straight,” Luhan says over lunch the next day, chewing loudly on a breadstick. “You got laid last night- congratulations by the way- and you think through some subconscious urge you picked a chick who looked exactly like your burlesque teacher-slash-childhood best friend?”
“Why does it sound so much more ridiculous when you say it?” Kris grumbles, taking another bite of his fettuccini. He’s reached a special level of desperation it seems if he’s consulting Luhan, of all people for, help.
“So wait, let’s take it back like, ten years or so.” Luhan takes a large gulp of his wine. “You and Minseok were friends when you were kids?”
“Best friends, yeah.”
“Then how come you fell out of touch?”
“Well…in 9th grade Minseok came out to me and it was okay, I was fine with it. But it made me realise some things that I don’t think I was quite ready to deal with.”
“You liked him.” Luhan states bluntly.
“I did.” Kris admits, staring at his fork, sun glinting off the tines. “I just didn’t know what to do about it. I liked girls too but after Minseok came out, I started noticing him more and then checking out other guys and it freaked me out. I had been ‘normal’ up till then so I didn’t know what to do.”
“So naturally you blamed it all on Minseok.” Luhan takes a large bites of his chicken, speaking with his mouth full. “Wow, you’re kind of a dick, Kris.”
“Your encouragement keep me going, Luhan.” He signals the waiter to bring the check, yanking the wine bottle away from his co-worker. “I was young and stupid, I reacted the only way I knew how.”
“Amazing he still thinks well of you after that.” They exit the restaurant and start walking. Luhan jabs his elbow into his side. “So you still have a thing for Minseok?”
“I don’t think it ever really went away, in all honesty.”
Luhan slings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to his level. “You should tell him. Otherwise it’s always going to be this weird sort of tension in your friendship. Bad juju.”
“No way. The man’s in a relationship and I just got out of one.” Kris bows to the doorman as they enter the lobby. “Plus there’s also the teensy little issue that he thinks I’m straight.”
Luhan snorts derisively as they board the elevator. ”You really like overcomplicating things don't you?”
“Shut up.”
“But seriously Kris.” Luhan stops him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t let yourself like him too much if he’s unavailable. I can tell by the way you talk about him. You're smitten and that’s bad because you get hurt too easily.”
“I’m an adult Luhan, I can handle myself.” He snaps and Luhan places his hands up backing away from him.They split up, heading to their respective offices. Kris doesn’t really want to admit that Luhan has a point but he’s self aware enough to know that he’s starting to fall for Minseok again, the feelings he’d dismissed as childhood remnants manifesting into something much bigger.The natural ease in their relationship from years of friendship combined with Minseok’s almost persistent need to initiate some form of skinship can almost fool Kris into thinking they're together. Just as Kris is about to enter, he hears his name being called. He turns to see the owner of the company coming down the hallway, a gaggle of suit clad associates following behind him. He bows low, wincing when the gray-haired man slaps him on the back jovially.
“How is the new product launch going, Mr. Wu?”
“Everything's on schedule, sir. We expect to launch in Korea by the end of the month and have it on shelves in China by the end of the year.”
“Excellent, excellent.” His boss turns to his herd of minions. “Pay close attention boys, Wu here,” he jabs Kris in the chest with a bony finger. “Is the type of worker you should all aspire to being.”
“You're very kind, Sir.” Kris tries not to grimace.
“You know what, Wu? You should take a few weeks off after the product launch. Go on vacation, maybe meet a nice girl. A man your age needs to start thinking long term plans, eh?” He gets another thump on the back before his boss moves down the hall to harass his next hapless employee.
Yixing massages his shoulders when he gets back inside, skilled fingers prodding at a knot between his shoulder blades and Kris makes a mental note to see what he can do about a raise for the man. “You had a call while you were out.”
“Who was it?” His sentence tapers off in a groan as Yixing presses hard.
“A gentlemen by the name of Kim Minseok. Apologized for bothering you at work but you weren't picking up your cell. He’s polite, I like him.”
“Glad he has your seal of approval, umma, but what did he want?” Kris stretches, cracking his neck from left to right.
“He wanted to invite you to his burlesque show this weekend.” Yixing casually stacks some files on his desk, seemingly oblivious to Kris’ internal hysterics. “Sounds interesting.”
“Oh that. It’s- uh- Minseok’s little hobby.” He laughs nervously.
“And yours too it seems. How’s class going?”
Kris chokes on oxygen, staring at Yixing wide-eyed. “H-how?”
Yixing tuts, shaking his head. “I take care of all your finances Kris, I saw the payments you made to the studio. And you need to stop ordering from Bed, Bath and Beyond when you’re drunk, no one needs that many towels.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.” Kris begs, mentally shrieking at the thought of the news getting out in his workplace. He was sure his conservative, right-wing boss would really take well to the news that his senior associate liked to prance around in heels.
“Don’t be silly, ge , I wouldn’t say anything.” Yixing leans on his desk. “So should I meet you at your apartment before the show?”
“Wait, you want to come with me?”
Yixing shrugs. “It sounds fun. Plus he said you could bring a friend.” He leans close, batting his eyelashes at Kris. “We’re friends , aren’t we boss?”
Kris knows when he’s being threatened and he agrees with a sigh. Yixing sings Mandarin ballads at the top of his lungs for the rest of the day and Kris wonders how someone so sweet can be so surprisingly sadistic.
They get to the club early Saturday evening, Kris eschewing driving for the subway. Yixing is already at the club, nursing a drink at a table near the front. Kris weaves his way through the smoky interior, dodging a man in a platinum blonde wig and a leopard print dress. The club is definitely not his usual scene.
Yixing flags down a waitress and orders another round of shots. They’re both on their third when the stage lights finally dim and a drag queen struts on stage to loud cheers. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know you’re all dying to see what our fabulous act has in store for you tonight so I won’t run my mouth for too long.” The queen trills into the microphone. “Everyone give it up for Seoul’s own Minx!”
There’s loud applause from the audience before the lights dim and everyone goes quiet. A spotlight shines on stage and Minseok walks out.
Except this isn’t Minseok, this is Minx , an ethereal, otherworldly looking being with black lined eyes and painted lips, body clad in a corset and obscenely tiny shorts. He smirks as he walks closer to the edge of the stage, hips swaying in time with the music and Kris realises he’s holding his breath as he watches him draw closer. The beat gets faster and Minx begins to sing, voice low and sultry as it carries across the room. His movements are controlled and sharp, every gesture calculated to get a reaction from the audience as he undulates to the rhythm, teasing his audience with small flashes of skin as he bends over low, ass on display.
Kris is unprepared for when the stripping begins, choking on his drink as Minx undoes his corset, tossing it to the other side of the stage. There’s suddenly a lot of porcelain skin on display, cherry red pasties providing a striking contrast and he can’t draw his eyes away. Yixing thumps him on the back as he sputters.
The routine is short, Minx ending the song with a flourish. There’s applause and he curtsies before pulling a chair onto stage. “I’m going to have a special guest join me on stage for this next number.” He purrs into the mike, voice higher than his normal tone and fuck if it doesn’t go straight to Kris’ crotch. He crosses his legs tightly.
The song that starts up this time has a faster beat and Kris recognizes it as “Love, Sex, Magic.” He mutters into his glass and Yixing glances over at him. They both start when Minseok begins to sing, using the chair as a prop for his dancing and if Kris thought the last routine had been sexually charged, this one is nuclear. Minseok writhes atop the chair, body fluid and sinuous in its movements as he sings, voice echoing across the room. During the second verse he’s joined onstage by a man, clad in a leather jacket and tight jeans who delivers his verse while seated on the chair as Minseok crawls over his lap. There’s an easy familiarity between the two, chemistry evident as they sing to each other and Kris feels something bitter in his throat as he watches the unknown man lean in and lick a slow stripe up his neck, both their voices melding in a seductive harmony. Minseok lets the other strip him out of his shorts to raucous cheers as he stand onstage in just a tiny leather thong and Kris is really, really regretting not bringing the camera but it’s hard to fully enjoy the display when the other man is the one who gets to lean over and touch, run his hands down the curve of Minseok’s waist. The routine ends with Minseok climbing onto the other man’s lap, back facing the audience as he wraps his legs around the other, yanking his head to the side. There’s thunderous applause as the stage goes dark and the drag queen hobbles back onstage, purple lipstick now a bit smeared.
“Wasn’t he phenomenal, folks? Give it up once again for Minx!” The queen waits for applause to die down before continuing. “Our next act has a real talent for both contortionism and body paint. Song Qian will be up in 5 so get your drinks before you miss all the good stuff.”
“So how’d you like the act?” Yixing nudges him in the side. “He was amazing wasn’t he?”
“He was, I had no idea he could dance so well.”
“I was talking about the other one. Your friend was okay too.”
Kris is about to valiantly defend Minseok’s honour when he feels himself get pulled into a backhug and a voice slurs in his ear. “You made it!”
He tips his head back to see Minseok, now dressed, grinning up at him. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He assures him, poking Minseok under the chin. “I guess showgirls really made an impact on you, huh?”
“Kids are so impressionable. Hey, come with me, I want to introduce you to someone.” Minseok tugs at his arm, stopping when he sees Yixing staring at him. “Who’s this?”
“Yixing, I’m Kris’ personal assistant slash secretary slash mother.” Yixing leans forward to shake hands with Minseok. “You were phenomenal.”
Minseok preens under the attention and for the first time Kris notices how he’s wobbling slightly. “Are you drunk?”
“He always has a few shots before shows and when you’re as much of a lightweight as he is, this happens.” An arm wraps around Minseok’s waist, steadying him and the man smiles down at him. “Amazing he can keep his balance at all.”
“Oi, I’m not a lightweight.” Minseok bats at the other man’s chest before turning to Kris. “Kris, this is Jongdae, my boyfriend. Jongdae, this is Kris, the one I’ve told you so much about.”
Ah, that would explain Minseok’s easy intimacy with his stage partner. Kris shakes Jongdae’s hand, taking in his sharp, chiselled features and kitten-ish grin. He’s handsome, that’s for certain and talented too. But I’m taller, Kris thinks pettily.
“It’s great meeting you.” Jongdae says, hands sliding to cup Minseok’s waist and Kris follows the movement, wanting to yank it off. “Seok’s been really excited ever since you guys met up again, I’ve been curious to see the reason.” He tilts his head appraisingly. “Your hands really are huge.”
All the better to slap you with, my dear. Yixing seems to pick up on the tone of his thoughts as he smoothly inserts himself into the conversation.
“Those hands are always knocking things over at the office, we’ve learnt to place all vases on higher shelves.” He and Jongdae shake hands. “You were great up there, your voice is amazing.” If Kris didn’t know better, he’d think Yixing was flirting. Minseok disentangles himself from Jongdae, flopping onto the chair besides Kris. “Jongie, go get more drinks.”
“I’ll come with you.” Yixing pipes up and the two disappear in the direction of the bar. The second show begins and Kris watches a pretty Chinese girl contort herself into terrifying positions all while wearing nothing as he sneaks peeks at Minseok from time to time. The shorter man is making a small stack of toothpicks, singing nursery rhymes to himself and Kris smiles, leaning forward to knock over the toothpick tower. “You’re cute when you’re drunk.”
“I’m always cute.” Minseok puffs his cheeks out. “Your grandma once said I was cuter than any of her grandchildren.”
“I’m her only grandkid.”
“Exactly.” Minseok giggles behind his palm at Kris’ affronted look. “She used to have a nickname for me too, right?”
“ Baozi. Because you were as white as a steam bun. And chubby like one too.” Kris pokes at Minseok’s waist, feeling his heartbeat pick up when Minseok takes his hand and starts drawing on it with an eyeliner pen he pulls out of his pocket.
“Whatever, I wasn’t chubby, I was cuddly, there’s a difference.” Minseok draws a steamed bun on his palm. “Jongdae calls me Mandu.”
The mention of Jongdae is like a bucket of ice water being thrown over him and he withdraws his hand, wiping it at the front of his jeans. “I didn’t know you two did shows together.”
“Not always, only when I can convince him to join me. He’s a terrible dancer so it’s mostly sit, sing and look pretty.” Minseok suddenly leans in, clasping his face. “Let me do your eyeliner.”
“What- no, wait.” Kris freezes when they hear footsteps approach the table and he pulls away to see Jongdae and Yixing staring at them.
“Are we interrupting something? ” Jongdae jokes, but his voice comes out steely and Kris doesn’t miss the flash behind his eyes. He shakes his head, moving away from Minseok who glares up at Jongdae before reaching over for a shot glass.
It’s tenser at the table after that, Yixing and Jongdae mostly carrying the conversation and Kris makes an excuse to leave not long after. Minseok walks him to the entrance of the club. Kris pulls a small gift bag from the backseat, passing it to Minseok. “Here, this is for you.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Minseok smiles up at him.
Kris shrugs, feeling bashful. “Well, I wasn’t at your first ever performance so this is me making up for that I guess.”
Minseok laughs before frowning, a small wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “Thank you so much Yifan but is there any way you could give this to me after class or something?” he indicates the club. “Jongdae can be a bit... hot-headed and I’d rather not try to explain any gifts to him. I’ve told him you’re straight but he sometimes overreacts.”
“That’s fine.” Kris takes the bag back, fiddling with the strings as he looks down at the pavement. It’s the perfect opportunity to come clean to Minseok about his sexuality but he withdraws. “I’ll see you in class.”
“See you then.” Minseok’s hug is longer this time and as he pulls away he leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Kris stares after him long after he’s walked back into the club, lost in thought. He yelps when someone snaps his fingers in his ear and he turns to see the drag queen from stage staring at him.
“You okay there?” the queen asks, tilting his head to appraise him.
“I’m fine.” He says, trying not to stare too hard at the mountain of cleavage the queen has on display.
“Like hell you are, you look like someone just pissed in your soup.” The queen pulls his passenger seat door open and sits inside. “Now you tell me all about it on the way to Tesco.”
“Why are we going to Tesco? Any why are you in my car?”
“Because I work night shifts.” The drag queen fixes his wig. “And just think of me as your fairy dragmother.”
And because his life apparently can’t get any stranger, Kris finds himself driving down the streets of Seoul, venting his relationship troubles to a man in a dress.
“So what I’m getting from this is-” The queen pulls his wig off, revealing a bald cap. “Is that this dude is the one you’ve been after from the beginning and now that you finally have the balls to admit you like balls and go after him, he’s out of your hands.” They stop at a red light and the man turns to the side. “Unzip me.”
“So what’s your advice for me?” Kris ducks down to avoid the judgmental stares of other drivers, presumably aimed at the man shimmying out of a dress on his other side. “He and Jongdae- that’s the boyfriend- don’t seem all that great together. I could be better.”
“Honey, please.” The queen, looking decidedly less ostentatious in black dress pants and a red polo, snorts as he starts wiping at his makeup. “You’re projecting what you want onto their relationship. The dude is happy and you’d be an ass to try to stop that.” The queen turns to fix him with a stern look, one side of his face still made up and the effect is terrifying. “My advice is to move on. You’re a good-looking guy, you’ll find someone else.”
“I’ve tried that but I can’t stop thinking about him.” Kris pounds his fists against the steering wheel.
“If you want to stop thinking about him, you have to quit him, cold turkey. No talking, no hanging out, zip, zilch, nada.” He fixes a nametag to his polo and Kris squints to make out the characters.
“Joonm-” the queen quickly covers his nametag with his palm.
“Can it, you only know me as Fairy Dragmother. Or Sue Hoe, that’s my stage name.” They pull up outside Tesco and his passenger disembarks.
Kris sticks his head through the window to call after him. “So I completely stop seeing him?”
“Completely. Trust me, you’ll be happier for it.” The drag queen blows him a kiss before walking away and Kris wonders whether he should point out the man still had his heels on. Nah.
***
He puts plan No More Minseok into effect once he gets home, hesitating for several minutes before finally deleting his number from his contacts. Yixing gives him a
strange look when he tells him to refuse any calls from Minseok but he’s too
busy giggling in the corner and staring at his phone under the desk to pry and
Kris is glad for it. He throws himself into his work to distract from the
overwhelming desire to see Minseok, text him when something funny happens or
his employees are driving him crazy. He’s pulling all-nighters, sleeping on the
sofa in his office and it isn’t until he cracks his eyes open to see Luhan and
Yixing staring down at him, identical looks of concern on both their faces. He
opens his mouth to speak but ends up coughing instead.
“Shit.” Luhan squats down, pressing a hand to Kris’ forehead. “He has a fever.”
“He hasn’t gone home in the past two days, probably hasn’t eaten either.” Yixing tugs on Kris’ arm until he’s up in a sitting position, head lolling to the side as he stares woozily at his secretary. “We need to take him home.”
“I can’t just ditch work, can you do it?” Yixing frowns at Luhan’s statement, pursing his lips. “I can’t either, I have a dat- appointment to get to. I think I know someone we can call though. Stay here, make him drink something. Try not to breathe in too deeply, he reeks.”
“Hey.” Kris slurs out before a glass of water is shoved at him, some sloshing down his front. Luhan stands above him, nose pinched shut between his thumb and forefinger.
“Down the hatch, princess.” He orders and Kris complies, draining the glass. Luhan squints at him. “What happened to you, mate? I’ve never seen you this bad before. Did something happen with Chanyeol?”
“No, it’s nothing like that, just busy with work. Speaking of which, I need to get down to the studio, they’re filming the first round of advertisements today.” He sniffs himself, recoiling from the stench. Maybe he can douse himself in cologne and hope for the best.
“Sit down, you’re in no shape to be supervising anything today.” Luhan pushes him back onto sofa and Kris is too weak to resist, lying back and staring at the ceiling. Luhan sits at the foot of the sofa, absentmindedly tapping at his thigh. “So, how’s burlesque going?”
“It’s good. The people are nice. I’m not completely hopeless with the fans.” Kris yawns, eyelids drooping.
“So no stripping yet? How boring.” Luhan grins at him. “I always felt like that portion of burlesque would be good for you. Release yourself from physical restraints and all that.”
“Clothes are not chains, Luhan.” Kris kicks out at him, foot missing and landing in Luhan’s lap. “We’re supposed to start stripping next class. To prepare for our solos.”
“Solos?” If Luhan had cat ears they would have perked up upon hearing this piece of information and if Kris was in a better state of mind he would’ve immediately changed the topic.
“Yeah, we have to perform solos and the really good ones get to be in the showcase at the end of the month.”
“Is this showcase open to the public?”
“Not sure.” Kris turns to stare at him. “Why do you care?”
Before Luhan an answer, the door opens and Yixing walks in followed by literally the last person Kris wants to see him like this. Minseok shakes his head as he walks over, taking his face in his hands and inspecting him. “He’s definitely feverish. Any other symptoms? “
“He was coughing for a bit.” Yixing fishes around in Kris’ desk drawer before tossing a set of keys to Minseok. “The second one’s the key to his apartment.”
“Wait, what?” Kris tries to stand up but the world starts spinning. Minseok places an arm around his waist, letting him lean on him. “Why does Minseok need my apartment key?”
“He’s taking you home.” Yixing says and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he and Luhan share a look and Kris should’ve seen this coming and he just probably try to put a stop to this because this is not at all what fairy dragmother Sue Hoe said to do but Minseok is soft against him and smells like oranges and Kris has really, really missed him. So he lets himself be led to the elevators and down to the parking garage. Minseok makes him lie down in the backseat, covering him with his wrinkled suit jacket. “I need to make a stop at my apartment and the pharmacy before I take you home, okay.”
“S’ fine.” He mumbles. He falls asleep once they start driving, lulled by the rocking motions of the car. He wakes up to a voracious, toy poodle gleefully licking his face and Minseok puttering around his kitchen. The other man turns when he hears the commotion, laughing at the sight of Kris with a poodle in his hair. “I see you’ve met Jojo.”
“She’s very affectionate.” He responds, voice hoarse. He pulls the dog away from him, scratching it behind the ears. “How’d she get into my apartment?”
“I brought her, couldn’t leave her alone back at my place.” Minseok brings him a glass of water, bending down to pick up the poodle. “I had a hell of a time trying to get both of you upstairs especially while you were asleep. Your doorman had to step in.” He brushes Kris’ fringe back, pressing his palm flat against his temple. “You’re still burning up.”
“It’s not that bad.” Kris’s face is warm and he’s pretty sure it’s not just from the fever. Minseok’s palm is cool against his skin and he leans into the touch, suppressing a groan. Minseok pets his head soothingly, almost lulling him back to sleep before pulling away. “I’d better check on the soup.”
“Soup?” He sniffs the air but his nose is too congested to be of much use. Minseok is stirring something on the stove, adding salt and it’s almost eerie how domestic the entire scenario is.
“You and your girlfriend must not cook a lot. Half your pots are dusty.” Minseok carries a tray over to him, placing it gently in his lap. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thank you. And, um, yeah, Chanmi used to do most of the cooking, I can’t be trusted around fire.”
“Used to?” Minseok looks at him concerned.
“She and I broke up.” Kris mumbles, picking up his soup spoon, too tired to think of another explanation.
“Ah. I’m so sorry.” Minseok’s hands squeezes his comfortingly and Kris drops the spoon from the sudden contact. Minseok retrieves it. “Is that why you were so unresponsive all week? I thought you were mad at me or something.”
“No, that wasn’t it at all.” Kris chokes out, and he has a mental image of his fairy dragmother facepalming because this was not part of the plan. Minseok is pressed up against his side, absentmindedly fanning the bowl of soup and if Kris was to turn his head just a little to the left, he could easily lean in and press a kiss to those pink lips.
His mental fantasy is interrupted by a white hot flash of pain and he cries out, yanking his fingers away from where they’d strayed to the soup bowl, tips a bright red from the hot liquid. Minseok pulls him off the couch, dragging him over to the sink. “You’re such an idiot.” He chides, holding his hand under the cold water. “How do you manage to be such a klutz, Fanzi?” He turns the water off, inspecting the skin. “The burn doesn’t look too bad. I think we’ll hold off on the soup for now. You should go shower.”
The poodle follows him into the bathroom and he doesn’t have the heart to kick her out, letting her chew up his bath mat as he washes. He finds Minseok in his bedroom when he exits, staring at the picture frames on his bookshelf. He turns, smiling when he sees him.
“Your mom looks exactly the same.” He says tapping on the framed picture of them on his graduation day. He holds up a picture of Kris and Chanyeol, a photo of the two of them on a ferry, arms linked. “You have a lot of pictures with this guy.”
“That was Chany- Chanhyun. A good friend of mine. We were roommates back in college and he helped me out a lot when I first came to Korea.”
“That’s sweet.” Minseok puts the frame back. “No pictures of me though? I’m insulted.”
Kris flops belly-first on the bed, Jojo letting out a disgruntled yelp from being jostled. “It’s on the topmost shelf.”
He’s treated to the incredibly amusing sight of Minseok trying to reach the top shelf before sighing and gesturing for him to retrieve it. The picture is slightly faded, taken on an old film camera but it’s one of his favorites, him and Minseok seated together on a bench at the same park they’d met in, Minseok holding him in a headlock as both of them wear matching grins. Minseok traces the edge of the frame delicately. “This was taken the week before you left for Canada, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, you took Minwoo’s camera and dragged me around Guangzhou for a photoshoot.”
“I lost most of those pictures when we moved to Korea, the rest are back in my mom’s house, god knows what she’s done with them. I’m glad at least one survived.” Minseok squints at the frame. “God, I was an unfortunate looking kid.”
“You were beautiful.” It slips past his lips unexpectedly and he wants to withdraw it, the admission too honest. Minseok gives him a surprised look before cocking an eyebrow. “Why the past tense?”
“Stop fishing for compliments, Min.” He stretches out on the bed, pulling the quilt over him, dog cuddled to his chest. It’s warm and comfortable and he wants to sleep but his stomach growls loudly, echoing around the room and startling his canine companion. Minseok snorts, pointing to a plate on the sidetable.
“I made you a sandwich, figured even you couldn’t hurt yourself with that. I’ll get your medicine too.” He leaves and Kris sighs, tapping Jojo on the chin.
“Your master would make a great housewife.” The dog gives him a baleful look, before trying to steal a bite of his sandwich. He pushes her away. “Bad girl.”
“Don’t talk to my daughter like that.” Minseok climbs into the bed from the other side. “Open up.” He shoves a thermometer under his tongue, ignoring his disgruntled yelp. He checks the reading. “Yep, still high. You need to start taking better care of yourself Yifan, immune systems tend to weaken with age.”
“You’re older than me.” He points out. Minseok snorts, handing him some pills. He swallows them dry, turning to prop himself up on one arm. ‘Hey, don’t you have to go home soon? Jongdae’s probably waiting for you.” He feels fairy dragmother Sue Hoe give him an approving thumbs up in his head. He’s indulged in far too much Minseok already today.
“Jongdae’s gone, weekend conference in Shanghai.” Minseok tugs the corner of the quilt over himself, pressing close against him. “Mind if I stay the night?”
“O-of course.” Kris chokes out and really, fate is having a good laugh at the fact that right as he decides to get over Minseok, he ends up with him in his bed (although unfortunately not in the context he’d like). He stiffens, lying plank straight as Minseok adjusts beside him and shit, he’d forgotten his friend was a cuddler. Minseok pokes him in the side.
“You okay? You seem kind of tense.” He props himself up on his elbows. “I could give you a massage. I got real good at those from burlesque.”
“Maybe later.” Kris chokes out, mental images of Minseok as a masseuse with a lot of hot oil and very little clothing flashing through his head and these are not the kinds of thoughts to be having when there is someone not quite three inches away from you. He flops onto his side. “I’m just gonna sleep now.”
“That’s fine, I’ll probably read or something.” Minseok leans over him to switch the lamp off, bending down to press an exaggeratedly wet kiss to his forehead. “Rest well, Fanzi.” He coos in Cantonese and Kris mimes blowing a kiss back to him. His dreams that night consist of toy poodles and disappointed drag queens.
He wakes up fairly early, sun not yet risen outside. His head’s a bit clearer and he looks a lot better. Minseok is curled up next to him, one arm thrown over his waist as he snuffles softly, twisting in his sleep and burrowing himself closer. Kris lets himself have this, let’s himself pull Minseok closer and study his face in the early morning light, trace fingertips over his jawline, let himself pretend, even for a few hours, that Minseok is his and he’s holding him like a lover.
He falls asleep again, only stirring when he feels movement from the other side of the bed. He cracks an eyelid open, squinting as he makes out Minseok staring at him, head propped up on his palm. “Morning.” he whispers, poking Kris in the cheek softly. He looks so beautiful like this, hair mussed and eyes still half lidded, sunlight shining through the cracks in the curtains and illuminating his skin and Kris wants, he wants so badly to just lean over and press their lips together.
The moment is broken when Minseok sits up, blankets rustling as he leans over to press his palm to Kris’ forehead, letting out an approving hum. “Seems lower. How do you feel?”
“Less like shit.” Kris has to struggle to not get distracted by the huskiness off Minseok’s just-woken-up voice and focus on the other’s words. Minseok stretches, muscles flexing under pale skin and Kris groans, thunking his head back against the pillow. He feels something tickle his side and he turns his head to find Jojo snuggled up by his arm. Minseok follows his gaze, laughing when he sees the tiny dog.
“Good luck, she won’t let you leave the bed now. She needs her personal heaters when she’s sleeping.”
“My kind of girl.” Kris scratches the puppy behind the ears, earning a soft whine. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
He gets a pillow to the face in response. “I’m not your maid Wu.”
“Wow, is this any way to treat an invalid, Kim Minseok?” Kris lets out a bout of incredibly fake-sounding coughing, earning an eye roll from the other who still gets up and heads out of the room, presumably to the kitchen. Kris stretches out against the sheets, sighing softly. He hears a small beeping noise and rolls over to search for the source. Minseok’s phone is on the side table, green message light blinking and he knows it’s wrong and he shouldn’t but he reaches over and swipes the lock screen, programming in the password (Mae West’s birthday- Minseok was a bit too predictable at times) and pulling up the message. It’s from Jongdae and he sticks his tongue out at the screen childishly, before squinting to make out the message.
“Hey, Min, there was a change of plans and I’m flying back early tonight. Meet me at the Park Hyatt at seven, I’ve got dinner reservations.”
He scowls at the phone. Fucking Jongdae the jetsetter with his expensive taste. He nearly drops the phone when it beeps again, a new message loading on the screen.
There’s something I want to ask you.
He hears footsteps coming down the hall and he scrambles to replace the phone and school his features into something less incriminating. Minseok carries in a tray with bowls, milk and cereal on it, dumping the whole thing unceremoniously on Kris’ lap. “Your feast, m’ lord.”
“Servants these days.” he grumbles, rubbing his midsection before pouring himself some frosted flakes. “Your phone beeped by the way.”
“Oh?” He watches as Minseok turns his phone on, reading through his messages. “Seems like we’ll have to cut this playdate short, Jongdae’s back from Shanghai early.” He gives Kris an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” he assures him. “ You’ve already gone through so much trouble for me.”
Minseok shrugs. “What are friends for?”
Yep. Friends. Kris hates that word right about now. He watches Minseok putter about the room, collecting his belonging and eventually his very cranky puppy. He gets pushed back down when he tries to stand up to see him out. “No, stay and rest. I’ll lock up one my way out. If you get bored, practice your fan dance or something, showcase is in two weeks!” Minseok uses one of Jojo’s paws to wave at him before leaving with a loud, “Bye.” echoing in his wake. Kris lies there for a little while longer before deciding sleep is a reasonable course of action.
The next time he’s woken up, it’s by two voices overhead and something poking at his face. Groaning, he tries to pull away only for someone to hold his head in place. He opens his eyes to see Luhan and a short, blonde man staring down at him, the man holding a lipstick tube. Luhan holds up a small hand mirror for him. “Look how pretty you are!”
Kris lets out a small screech when he sees the unholy mess they’ve made of his face. He sits up, pushing their heads away to get a better look. “What the hell did you do to my eyes?”
“Eyeliner.” the blond man says, holding up a tube. “Except you kept moving so it got a bit smeared. Here, let me fix that.” He licks his thumb and moves to sweep it under Kris’ eye.
Kris bats his hand away, glowering at him. “And who the heck are you?”
The man frowns, placing one hand on his hip. “For someone who came grovelling after me like a pathetic mouse, you seems to have gained a bit more sass since the last time I saw you.”
Kris stares until it finally clicks. “Dragmama?” He gapes.
“The one and only.” Sue Hoe preens, pushing his bangs to the side. “Your pretty friend over there let me in. I accidentally took these from your glovebox, thought they were mine.” He chucks a small, black garter belt on the bed and Kris scrambles to cover it from Luhan’s prying eyes. The other flops down on the bed beside him and Sue Hoe comes on his other side, pushing him to the middle.
“So, how’s everything go with Minseok?” Luhan leers at him from his other side.
“Oh is this the boy he was going on about? The ballet instructor?” Sue Hoe picks up the cereal box still sitting by the floor, shoving a handful in his mouth.
“Burlesque.” Kris corrects. “And nothing happened. He made me food, we talked and slept.”
“Together?” Luhan and Sue Hoe intone simultaneously and Kris drops his head into his hands, flustered.
“No! I mean, yes- in the same bed but nothing happened.” He insists.
“Pity. You should go after him, from what you told me his boyfriend isn’t much to speak off. You should seduce him away.”
“He had to leave early because of his boyfriend.” Kris punches a pillow. “Hey, what do you think it means when someone invites you to dinner in a fancy restaurant and says they have to ask you something?”
There’s silence before Luhan speaks. “Someone?”
“Jongdae texted Minseok saying that, it’s why he left.”
“Shiiiiiiiiiit.” Sue Hoe stretches out the word. “How long did you say they’ve been dating?”
“3 years I think.”
Luhan and Sue Hoe look at each other before nodding simultaneously. “Proposal.”
Kris chokes on the handful of cereal he’d just consumed. “What?!”
“It makes sense. Either that or he has cancer.” Luhan says. He pats Kris on the back. “Ah well. You win some, you lose some, I guess.”
Kris leans against the headboard, unsure why he suddenly feels like crying. “This sucks.”
“Poor baby.” Sue Hoe pulls him into his bosom, petting his head. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”
“What?” Kris aks, voice muffled.
“Booze, pizza and show music.”
It is a fun night to be fair, Luhan and Sue Hoe getting progressively wilder with each shot. They make him demonstrate his burlesque solo, hooting as Kris does his fan moves, nearly knocking over a vase in the process. Burlesque leads to talks of stripping which leads to a game of strip poker which leads to Kris falling asleep on the couch in his boxers while Luhan and Sue Hoe furiously make out in the corner.
***
He’s quiet during the next burlesque class, giving a strained greeting to Minseok when he greets him. The other looks peppier than usual, going about class with a cheery grin and it further aggravates his bad mood. He sulks in the corner of the class as one by one students get up to demonstrate their progress to the teachers, receiving critique on things to adjust in their routine as they go along. Tao, whose routine makes great use of his flexibility, finishes up and Kai beckons Kris over.
“Alright Yifan-teasy, let’s see what you’ve done so far. What are you using for your routine?”
“Chair and fans.” Kris holds up the large feathered implements and Kyungsoo pushes a chair to the center of the floor.
He’d spent the past few classes choreographing the routine with Kai. It’s nothing too complicated, just fan tricks and the chair, set to a slow saxophone number. Kai had watched him do a run through the last class, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “It’s good but it still needs something.” He’d said. “Maybe you could incorporate another element into it. How about some stripping?” Upon seeing the bright red of Kris’ face, he backed off. “Okay fine, keep your clothes on, Big K.”
Kris had mulled the thought over in secret later, clumsily practicing the moves in his living room. He’d been a mess at the stripping segment when they’d had those classes . He remembers Minseok having to leave the room to laugh hysterically when he’d attempted to do the spin-and-remove-corset move and ended up nailing Ho-Ya in the face. The pants moves were easier but in class those had been done with clothes on underneath, he’d never actually had to be semi-naked in front of anyone. The thought is marginally terrifying; he knows his body isn’t horrifying but he’s not going to make money on the pole any time soon. Still, it seems wrong to half-ass what he’s worked so hard at and he resolves to at least try stripping during rehearsals.
He begins his routine with a slow walk, aiming for a slow, teasing gait in time with the beat of the song. He has a boa over his shoulders, and he proceeds to remove it slowly while standing near the chair, taking his time in pulling the tie loose, shrugging it down his shoulders in a slow, practised gesture. He fumbles through the small dance portion, messing up his kick segment but he manages to pull it off well enough. He then begins the fan tricks, his favourite part of the routine and the one that comes easiest to him. He spins, moving them gracefully, throwing one up in the air and catching it with ease in his other hand to a small smattering of applause. He sees Kai giving him an approving nod out of the corner of his eyes and notes the surprise on the other man’s face when Kris deviates from the planned choreography, setting his fans down as he sits on the chair. He kicks his legs up, easing his pants off slowly, trying to make it more seductive and less awkward. He hears the cheers as his thighs come into focus and it gives him the boost he needs to kick his sweatpants all the way off.
The sight of the stocking, clipped to the garter belt which he’d worn with black boxers in lieu of anything else send his classmates into hysterics. He flushes as he hears the hooting and cheers along with a yell of “Take it all off, Big K!” (He was going to have to do something about that damned nickname.) He finishes the routine with the fans, slipping a little in the stockings as he uses the fans to tease the class with small, barely-there glimpses of his (barely-there) ass, before ending with a spread-legged pose into the chair, which is becoming something of a signature for him. There’s clapping and Kai is grinning as he watches Kris fumble to cover his crotch with the fans, face red.
“That was unexpected but good job. I’m glad you got over your little bout of modesty. The garter was a nice touch.” Kai turns to face the front of the room, wide grin still on his face. “He’s come a long way, hasn’t he, Min?”
Minseok nods, looking almost proud. “So much better. You look less like a drunk goose now.”
Kris smiles in response before clearing the floor for the next performer. He can see Minseok looking over at him out of the corner of his eye and he stares straight ahead, studiously avoiding the other’s gaze. The other students perform, Kyungsoo doing spectacularly well in his pole routine. Kai ends the class with stretches, before letting them go. “Okay everyone, showcase is next week so please, be consistent in coming to class and with practices.”
He’s about to head out when Tao pulls him to the side. “Hey, a bunch of us were going to go out to this specialty store to look for costumes. Wanna come with?”
He doesn’t have anything better to do and he does need a costume. “Sure.”
“Great, wait here, I’m gonna round up the others.” Kris sits on the bench outside the classroom as Tao runs off down the hall. He hears familiar voices from inside and he peeks his head in.
Minseok and Kai are huddled together, Minseok showing Kai something in his hand that Kris can’t make out. Kai lets out a low whistle. “Wow, that looks really expensive.”
“Seriously, I can’t believe Jongdae went to these lengths. Between the resteraunt and the flowers, it must have cost him a lot.”
“So, you weren’t expecting it at all?”
“Not at all. I wasn’t really surprised to tell you the truth, he’s been giving me the vies for a while. But he was still pretty nervous.” Minseok is smiling and Kris feels a small lurch in his chest as he stands up and stomps away. So that basically confirms the proposal.
Tao and his classmates go nuts in the small speciality store in Insadong, stocked to the rafters with lingerie and jewellery and other implements that Kris can’t even explain. Tao drags him here and there, making him check out different outfits until he eventually gets suckered into buying one, for an obscenely high cost but he’s too depressed to care. If the others pick up on his vibe, they don’t comment. He drives home listening to sad pan pipe music (a leftover relic from Chanyeol’s hippie days), backseat full of shopping bags.
He has a message from Minseok on his phone when he gets home and this time, it’s easier to press delete without reading, fueled by his irrational anger. He’s being unfair, that much he knows but it’s easier to justify when it feels like his heart is being smashed.
***
Yifan frowns down at his workbook, the foreign letters swimming before his eyelids. Carefully, he reads out the sentence slowly. “Michael wal- walked his dog.” The English sounds foreign to his ears and wrong on his tongue and he groans frustrated with his progress or lack thereof. It’s been almost two months since he and his mother had sold the Guangzhou house and moved to Vancouver and Kris still struggles from the frequent bouts of homesickness that hit him at unexpected times. Having a high school with a large Chinese population had helped but it doesn’t change the fact that this city is foreign, the streets unknown and loud, people around him conversing in a language he doesn’t understand. He tries to hide it, mostly for his mother’s sake but at times his frustration trickles over and it’s all he can do to not curl up on his bed and mope.
“Yifan.” he hears his mother’s soft tones as she knocks on his door, before entering. “You have a phone call.”
“From who?” he mumbles.
“Mansek.” He sits up quickly, glancing over at his smiling mother. She holds the receiver out to him, a small smile of her lips. “You should talk quickly, these calls are expensive.”
He swallows hard. “Can you- can you tell him I’m not here?”
Her smile disappears, replaced by a small frown as she covers the receiver with her palm. “Why? Don’t you want to talk to him? Did you two have a fight?” She looks stricken at the very thought.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” He insists. “Can't you just do it?”
“I’m not lying to him.” His mother frowns.
“Fine.” Yifan stands, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll leave. Then you won’t be lying.”
He’s out the screen door before she can respond, shivering in the cool autumn air. He walks aimlessly around his neighbourhood, trying to distract from the feeling of guilt churning low in his stomach. He’s startled by a voice calling out to him and he turns to see a short, brunette boy waving at him. “Hey, slow down.”
The boy jogs closer and Yifan recognizes him as Henry, one of his neighbours, short with round cheeks and a mischievous grin. They have a few classes together in school and he sometimes catches Henry glancing over at him, giving wide grins when he’s caught but they’ve never actually spoken before. He slaps Yifan on the back and says something in rapid fire English. When he sees the other boy’s blank look, he switches over to clumsy Mandarin. “You’re Kris right? You just moved here.”
He nods, still not quite used to his English name. “From Guangzhou.”
“Cool.” Henry holds up a plastic bag, grin wide. “Wanna have some fun, Kris?”
Henry’s idea of fun consist of them getting drunk in the park off cans of stolen beer, Kris laughing as he watches the other try to communicate his thoughts in increasingly slurred Mandarin. That laughter dies on his lips when Henry climbs into his lap and kisses him full on the mouth.
He’s frozen at first and Henry pulls away to look at him. “Are you not- did I read this wrong?” He shakes his head and leans in again, initiating a kiss that is more enthusiasm than finesse and Henry responds likewise.
That night he goes home and stumbles past his stern-faced mother to his room, all thoughts of Mansek wiped from his head as he relives his rendezvous with Henry, giggling into his pillow at the strange fluttering feeling in his chest.
And over the next few months, as his English improves and his schedule fills up with basketball and school and secret dates with Henry, it becomes easier and easier to forget the best friend he left behind.
***
next →
Kris receives a confirmation letter a week later, confirming his lease split from Chanyeol but for some reason the news doesn’t hit him as hard as he thought, he merely files it away in his “important official shit” folder and heads out to work. He finally acquiesces and lets Tao drag him clubbing with his friends including a poker-faced blonde named Sehun and a permanently smiling bloke named Dongwoo who brings out all of his latent maternal instincts. He ends his almost two month long dry spell, taking home Sohee, an angelic-looking beauty who comes up behind him in the club and slides her hands in his front pockets. She’s stunning, all smooth, pale skin and soft thighs, hair fanning across his pillows. She asks to spend the night afterwards and he’s in a good enough mood to agree.
There was a sticky moment before, when he’d been thrusting into her, watching as she arched and moaned beneath him and he saw Minseok in the curve of her eyes, the alabaster of her skin and it had him coming sooner than he’d thought, moaning brokenly into her hair. Even now as looks at her sleeping face he can spot the similarities and it’s slightly unnerving.
***
“So let me get this straight,” Luhan says over lunch the next day, chewing loudly on a breadstick. “You got laid last night- congratulations by the way- and you think through some subconscious urge you picked a chick who looked exactly like your burlesque teacher-slash-childhood best friend?”
“Why does it sound so much more ridiculous when you say it?” Kris grumbles, taking another bite of his fettuccini. He’s reached a special level of desperation it seems if he’s consulting Luhan, of all people for, help.
“So wait, let’s take it back like, ten years or so.” Luhan takes a large gulp of his wine. “You and Minseok were friends when you were kids?”
“Best friends, yeah.”
“Then how come you fell out of touch?”
“Well…in 9th grade Minseok came out to me and it was okay, I was fine with it. But it made me realise some things that I don’t think I was quite ready to deal with.”
“You liked him.” Luhan states bluntly.
“I did.” Kris admits, staring at his fork, sun glinting off the tines. “I just didn’t know what to do about it. I liked girls too but after Minseok came out, I started noticing him more and then checking out other guys and it freaked me out. I had been ‘normal’ up till then so I didn’t know what to do.”
“So naturally you blamed it all on Minseok.” Luhan takes a large bites of his chicken, speaking with his mouth full. “Wow, you’re kind of a dick, Kris.”
“Your encouragement keep me going, Luhan.” He signals the waiter to bring the check, yanking the wine bottle away from his co-worker. “I was young and stupid, I reacted the only way I knew how.”
“Amazing he still thinks well of you after that.” They exit the restaurant and start walking. Luhan jabs his elbow into his side. “So you still have a thing for Minseok?”
“I don’t think it ever really went away, in all honesty.”
Luhan slings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to his level. “You should tell him. Otherwise it’s always going to be this weird sort of tension in your friendship. Bad juju.”
“No way. The man’s in a relationship and I just got out of one.” Kris bows to the doorman as they enter the lobby. “Plus there’s also the teensy little issue that he thinks I’m straight.”
Luhan snorts derisively as they board the elevator. ”You really like overcomplicating things don't you?”
“Shut up.”
“But seriously Kris.” Luhan stops him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t let yourself like him too much if he’s unavailable. I can tell by the way you talk about him. You're smitten and that’s bad because you get hurt too easily.”
“I’m an adult Luhan, I can handle myself.” He snaps and Luhan places his hands up backing away from him.They split up, heading to their respective offices. Kris doesn’t really want to admit that Luhan has a point but he’s self aware enough to know that he’s starting to fall for Minseok again, the feelings he’d dismissed as childhood remnants manifesting into something much bigger.The natural ease in their relationship from years of friendship combined with Minseok’s almost persistent need to initiate some form of skinship can almost fool Kris into thinking they're together. Just as Kris is about to enter, he hears his name being called. He turns to see the owner of the company coming down the hallway, a gaggle of suit clad associates following behind him. He bows low, wincing when the gray-haired man slaps him on the back jovially.
“How is the new product launch going, Mr. Wu?”
“Everything's on schedule, sir. We expect to launch in Korea by the end of the month and have it on shelves in China by the end of the year.”
“Excellent, excellent.” His boss turns to his herd of minions. “Pay close attention boys, Wu here,” he jabs Kris in the chest with a bony finger. “Is the type of worker you should all aspire to being.”
“You're very kind, Sir.” Kris tries not to grimace.
“You know what, Wu? You should take a few weeks off after the product launch. Go on vacation, maybe meet a nice girl. A man your age needs to start thinking long term plans, eh?” He gets another thump on the back before his boss moves down the hall to harass his next hapless employee.
Yixing massages his shoulders when he gets back inside, skilled fingers prodding at a knot between his shoulder blades and Kris makes a mental note to see what he can do about a raise for the man. “You had a call while you were out.”
“Who was it?” His sentence tapers off in a groan as Yixing presses hard.
“A gentlemen by the name of Kim Minseok. Apologized for bothering you at work but you weren't picking up your cell. He’s polite, I like him.”
“Glad he has your seal of approval, umma, but what did he want?” Kris stretches, cracking his neck from left to right.
“He wanted to invite you to his burlesque show this weekend.” Yixing casually stacks some files on his desk, seemingly oblivious to Kris’ internal hysterics. “Sounds interesting.”
“Oh that. It’s- uh- Minseok’s little hobby.” He laughs nervously.
“And yours too it seems. How’s class going?”
Kris chokes on oxygen, staring at Yixing wide-eyed. “H-how?”
Yixing tuts, shaking his head. “I take care of all your finances Kris, I saw the payments you made to the studio. And you need to stop ordering from Bed, Bath and Beyond when you’re drunk, no one needs that many towels.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.” Kris begs, mentally shrieking at the thought of the news getting out in his workplace. He was sure his conservative, right-wing boss would really take well to the news that his senior associate liked to prance around in heels.
“Don’t be silly, ge , I wouldn’t say anything.” Yixing leans on his desk. “So should I meet you at your apartment before the show?”
“Wait, you want to come with me?”
Yixing shrugs. “It sounds fun. Plus he said you could bring a friend.” He leans close, batting his eyelashes at Kris. “We’re friends , aren’t we boss?”
Kris knows when he’s being threatened and he agrees with a sigh. Yixing sings Mandarin ballads at the top of his lungs for the rest of the day and Kris wonders how someone so sweet can be so surprisingly sadistic.
They get to the club early Saturday evening, Kris eschewing driving for the subway. Yixing is already at the club, nursing a drink at a table near the front. Kris weaves his way through the smoky interior, dodging a man in a platinum blonde wig and a leopard print dress. The club is definitely not his usual scene.
Yixing flags down a waitress and orders another round of shots. They’re both on their third when the stage lights finally dim and a drag queen struts on stage to loud cheers. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know you’re all dying to see what our fabulous act has in store for you tonight so I won’t run my mouth for too long.” The queen trills into the microphone. “Everyone give it up for Seoul’s own Minx!”
There’s loud applause from the audience before the lights dim and everyone goes quiet. A spotlight shines on stage and Minseok walks out.
Except this isn’t Minseok, this is Minx , an ethereal, otherworldly looking being with black lined eyes and painted lips, body clad in a corset and obscenely tiny shorts. He smirks as he walks closer to the edge of the stage, hips swaying in time with the music and Kris realises he’s holding his breath as he watches him draw closer. The beat gets faster and Minx begins to sing, voice low and sultry as it carries across the room. His movements are controlled and sharp, every gesture calculated to get a reaction from the audience as he undulates to the rhythm, teasing his audience with small flashes of skin as he bends over low, ass on display.
Kris is unprepared for when the stripping begins, choking on his drink as Minx undoes his corset, tossing it to the other side of the stage. There’s suddenly a lot of porcelain skin on display, cherry red pasties providing a striking contrast and he can’t draw his eyes away. Yixing thumps him on the back as he sputters.
The routine is short, Minx ending the song with a flourish. There’s applause and he curtsies before pulling a chair onto stage. “I’m going to have a special guest join me on stage for this next number.” He purrs into the mike, voice higher than his normal tone and fuck if it doesn’t go straight to Kris’ crotch. He crosses his legs tightly.
The song that starts up this time has a faster beat and Kris recognizes it as “Love, Sex, Magic.” He mutters into his glass and Yixing glances over at him. They both start when Minseok begins to sing, using the chair as a prop for his dancing and if Kris thought the last routine had been sexually charged, this one is nuclear. Minseok writhes atop the chair, body fluid and sinuous in its movements as he sings, voice echoing across the room. During the second verse he’s joined onstage by a man, clad in a leather jacket and tight jeans who delivers his verse while seated on the chair as Minseok crawls over his lap. There’s an easy familiarity between the two, chemistry evident as they sing to each other and Kris feels something bitter in his throat as he watches the unknown man lean in and lick a slow stripe up his neck, both their voices melding in a seductive harmony. Minseok lets the other strip him out of his shorts to raucous cheers as he stand onstage in just a tiny leather thong and Kris is really, really regretting not bringing the camera but it’s hard to fully enjoy the display when the other man is the one who gets to lean over and touch, run his hands down the curve of Minseok’s waist. The routine ends with Minseok climbing onto the other man’s lap, back facing the audience as he wraps his legs around the other, yanking his head to the side. There’s thunderous applause as the stage goes dark and the drag queen hobbles back onstage, purple lipstick now a bit smeared.
“Wasn’t he phenomenal, folks? Give it up once again for Minx!” The queen waits for applause to die down before continuing. “Our next act has a real talent for both contortionism and body paint. Song Qian will be up in 5 so get your drinks before you miss all the good stuff.”
“So how’d you like the act?” Yixing nudges him in the side. “He was amazing wasn’t he?”
“He was, I had no idea he could dance so well.”
“I was talking about the other one. Your friend was okay too.”
Kris is about to valiantly defend Minseok’s honour when he feels himself get pulled into a backhug and a voice slurs in his ear. “You made it!”
He tips his head back to see Minseok, now dressed, grinning up at him. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He assures him, poking Minseok under the chin. “I guess showgirls really made an impact on you, huh?”
“Kids are so impressionable. Hey, come with me, I want to introduce you to someone.” Minseok tugs at his arm, stopping when he sees Yixing staring at him. “Who’s this?”
“Yixing, I’m Kris’ personal assistant slash secretary slash mother.” Yixing leans forward to shake hands with Minseok. “You were phenomenal.”
Minseok preens under the attention and for the first time Kris notices how he’s wobbling slightly. “Are you drunk?”
“He always has a few shots before shows and when you’re as much of a lightweight as he is, this happens.” An arm wraps around Minseok’s waist, steadying him and the man smiles down at him. “Amazing he can keep his balance at all.”
“Oi, I’m not a lightweight.” Minseok bats at the other man’s chest before turning to Kris. “Kris, this is Jongdae, my boyfriend. Jongdae, this is Kris, the one I’ve told you so much about.”
Ah, that would explain Minseok’s easy intimacy with his stage partner. Kris shakes Jongdae’s hand, taking in his sharp, chiselled features and kitten-ish grin. He’s handsome, that’s for certain and talented too. But I’m taller, Kris thinks pettily.
“It’s great meeting you.” Jongdae says, hands sliding to cup Minseok’s waist and Kris follows the movement, wanting to yank it off. “Seok’s been really excited ever since you guys met up again, I’ve been curious to see the reason.” He tilts his head appraisingly. “Your hands really are huge.”
All the better to slap you with, my dear. Yixing seems to pick up on the tone of his thoughts as he smoothly inserts himself into the conversation.
“Those hands are always knocking things over at the office, we’ve learnt to place all vases on higher shelves.” He and Jongdae shake hands. “You were great up there, your voice is amazing.” If Kris didn’t know better, he’d think Yixing was flirting. Minseok disentangles himself from Jongdae, flopping onto the chair besides Kris. “Jongie, go get more drinks.”
“I’ll come with you.” Yixing pipes up and the two disappear in the direction of the bar. The second show begins and Kris watches a pretty Chinese girl contort herself into terrifying positions all while wearing nothing as he sneaks peeks at Minseok from time to time. The shorter man is making a small stack of toothpicks, singing nursery rhymes to himself and Kris smiles, leaning forward to knock over the toothpick tower. “You’re cute when you’re drunk.”
“I’m always cute.” Minseok puffs his cheeks out. “Your grandma once said I was cuter than any of her grandchildren.”
“I’m her only grandkid.”
“Exactly.” Minseok giggles behind his palm at Kris’ affronted look. “She used to have a nickname for me too, right?”
“ Baozi. Because you were as white as a steam bun. And chubby like one too.” Kris pokes at Minseok’s waist, feeling his heartbeat pick up when Minseok takes his hand and starts drawing on it with an eyeliner pen he pulls out of his pocket.
“Whatever, I wasn’t chubby, I was cuddly, there’s a difference.” Minseok draws a steamed bun on his palm. “Jongdae calls me Mandu.”
The mention of Jongdae is like a bucket of ice water being thrown over him and he withdraws his hand, wiping it at the front of his jeans. “I didn’t know you two did shows together.”
“Not always, only when I can convince him to join me. He’s a terrible dancer so it’s mostly sit, sing and look pretty.” Minseok suddenly leans in, clasping his face. “Let me do your eyeliner.”
“What- no, wait.” Kris freezes when they hear footsteps approach the table and he pulls away to see Jongdae and Yixing staring at them.
“Are we interrupting something? ” Jongdae jokes, but his voice comes out steely and Kris doesn’t miss the flash behind his eyes. He shakes his head, moving away from Minseok who glares up at Jongdae before reaching over for a shot glass.
It’s tenser at the table after that, Yixing and Jongdae mostly carrying the conversation and Kris makes an excuse to leave not long after. Minseok walks him to the entrance of the club. Kris pulls a small gift bag from the backseat, passing it to Minseok. “Here, this is for you.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Minseok smiles up at him.
Kris shrugs, feeling bashful. “Well, I wasn’t at your first ever performance so this is me making up for that I guess.”
Minseok laughs before frowning, a small wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “Thank you so much Yifan but is there any way you could give this to me after class or something?” he indicates the club. “Jongdae can be a bit... hot-headed and I’d rather not try to explain any gifts to him. I’ve told him you’re straight but he sometimes overreacts.”
“That’s fine.” Kris takes the bag back, fiddling with the strings as he looks down at the pavement. It’s the perfect opportunity to come clean to Minseok about his sexuality but he withdraws. “I’ll see you in class.”
“See you then.” Minseok’s hug is longer this time and as he pulls away he leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Kris stares after him long after he’s walked back into the club, lost in thought. He yelps when someone snaps his fingers in his ear and he turns to see the drag queen from stage staring at him.
“You okay there?” the queen asks, tilting his head to appraise him.
“I’m fine.” He says, trying not to stare too hard at the mountain of cleavage the queen has on display.
“Like hell you are, you look like someone just pissed in your soup.” The queen pulls his passenger seat door open and sits inside. “Now you tell me all about it on the way to Tesco.”
“Why are we going to Tesco? Any why are you in my car?”
“Because I work night shifts.” The drag queen fixes his wig. “And just think of me as your fairy dragmother.”
And because his life apparently can’t get any stranger, Kris finds himself driving down the streets of Seoul, venting his relationship troubles to a man in a dress.
“So what I’m getting from this is-” The queen pulls his wig off, revealing a bald cap. “Is that this dude is the one you’ve been after from the beginning and now that you finally have the balls to admit you like balls and go after him, he’s out of your hands.” They stop at a red light and the man turns to the side. “Unzip me.”
“So what’s your advice for me?” Kris ducks down to avoid the judgmental stares of other drivers, presumably aimed at the man shimmying out of a dress on his other side. “He and Jongdae- that’s the boyfriend- don’t seem all that great together. I could be better.”
“Honey, please.” The queen, looking decidedly less ostentatious in black dress pants and a red polo, snorts as he starts wiping at his makeup. “You’re projecting what you want onto their relationship. The dude is happy and you’d be an ass to try to stop that.” The queen turns to fix him with a stern look, one side of his face still made up and the effect is terrifying. “My advice is to move on. You’re a good-looking guy, you’ll find someone else.”
“I’ve tried that but I can’t stop thinking about him.” Kris pounds his fists against the steering wheel.
“If you want to stop thinking about him, you have to quit him, cold turkey. No talking, no hanging out, zip, zilch, nada.” He fixes a nametag to his polo and Kris squints to make out the characters.
“Joonm-” the queen quickly covers his nametag with his palm.
“Can it, you only know me as Fairy Dragmother. Or Sue Hoe, that’s my stage name.” They pull up outside Tesco and his passenger disembarks.
Kris sticks his head through the window to call after him. “So I completely stop seeing him?”
“Completely. Trust me, you’ll be happier for it.” The drag queen blows him a kiss before walking away and Kris wonders whether he should point out the man still had his heels on. Nah.
***
He puts plan No More Minseok into effect once he gets home, hesitating for several minutes before finally deleting his number from his contacts. Yixing gives him a
strange look when he tells him to refuse any calls from Minseok but he’s too
busy giggling in the corner and staring at his phone under the desk to pry and
Kris is glad for it. He throws himself into his work to distract from the
overwhelming desire to see Minseok, text him when something funny happens or
his employees are driving him crazy. He’s pulling all-nighters, sleeping on the
sofa in his office and it isn’t until he cracks his eyes open to see Luhan and
Yixing staring down at him, identical looks of concern on both their faces. He
opens his mouth to speak but ends up coughing instead.
“Shit.” Luhan squats down, pressing a hand to Kris’ forehead. “He has a fever.”
“He hasn’t gone home in the past two days, probably hasn’t eaten either.” Yixing tugs on Kris’ arm until he’s up in a sitting position, head lolling to the side as he stares woozily at his secretary. “We need to take him home.”
“I can’t just ditch work, can you do it?” Yixing frowns at Luhan’s statement, pursing his lips. “I can’t either, I have a dat- appointment to get to. I think I know someone we can call though. Stay here, make him drink something. Try not to breathe in too deeply, he reeks.”
“Hey.” Kris slurs out before a glass of water is shoved at him, some sloshing down his front. Luhan stands above him, nose pinched shut between his thumb and forefinger.
“Down the hatch, princess.” He orders and Kris complies, draining the glass. Luhan squints at him. “What happened to you, mate? I’ve never seen you this bad before. Did something happen with Chanyeol?”
“No, it’s nothing like that, just busy with work. Speaking of which, I need to get down to the studio, they’re filming the first round of advertisements today.” He sniffs himself, recoiling from the stench. Maybe he can douse himself in cologne and hope for the best.
“Sit down, you’re in no shape to be supervising anything today.” Luhan pushes him back onto sofa and Kris is too weak to resist, lying back and staring at the ceiling. Luhan sits at the foot of the sofa, absentmindedly tapping at his thigh. “So, how’s burlesque going?”
“It’s good. The people are nice. I’m not completely hopeless with the fans.” Kris yawns, eyelids drooping.
“So no stripping yet? How boring.” Luhan grins at him. “I always felt like that portion of burlesque would be good for you. Release yourself from physical restraints and all that.”
“Clothes are not chains, Luhan.” Kris kicks out at him, foot missing and landing in Luhan’s lap. “We’re supposed to start stripping next class. To prepare for our solos.”
“Solos?” If Luhan had cat ears they would have perked up upon hearing this piece of information and if Kris was in a better state of mind he would’ve immediately changed the topic.
“Yeah, we have to perform solos and the really good ones get to be in the showcase at the end of the month.”
“Is this showcase open to the public?”
“Not sure.” Kris turns to stare at him. “Why do you care?”
Before Luhan an answer, the door opens and Yixing walks in followed by literally the last person Kris wants to see him like this. Minseok shakes his head as he walks over, taking his face in his hands and inspecting him. “He’s definitely feverish. Any other symptoms? “
“He was coughing for a bit.” Yixing fishes around in Kris’ desk drawer before tossing a set of keys to Minseok. “The second one’s the key to his apartment.”
“Wait, what?” Kris tries to stand up but the world starts spinning. Minseok places an arm around his waist, letting him lean on him. “Why does Minseok need my apartment key?”
“He’s taking you home.” Yixing says and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he and Luhan share a look and Kris should’ve seen this coming and he just probably try to put a stop to this because this is not at all what fairy dragmother Sue Hoe said to do but Minseok is soft against him and smells like oranges and Kris has really, really missed him. So he lets himself be led to the elevators and down to the parking garage. Minseok makes him lie down in the backseat, covering him with his wrinkled suit jacket. “I need to make a stop at my apartment and the pharmacy before I take you home, okay.”
“S’ fine.” He mumbles. He falls asleep once they start driving, lulled by the rocking motions of the car. He wakes up to a voracious, toy poodle gleefully licking his face and Minseok puttering around his kitchen. The other man turns when he hears the commotion, laughing at the sight of Kris with a poodle in his hair. “I see you’ve met Jojo.”
“She’s very affectionate.” He responds, voice hoarse. He pulls the dog away from him, scratching it behind the ears. “How’d she get into my apartment?”
“I brought her, couldn’t leave her alone back at my place.” Minseok brings him a glass of water, bending down to pick up the poodle. “I had a hell of a time trying to get both of you upstairs especially while you were asleep. Your doorman had to step in.” He brushes Kris’ fringe back, pressing his palm flat against his temple. “You’re still burning up.”
“It’s not that bad.” Kris’s face is warm and he’s pretty sure it’s not just from the fever. Minseok’s palm is cool against his skin and he leans into the touch, suppressing a groan. Minseok pets his head soothingly, almost lulling him back to sleep before pulling away. “I’d better check on the soup.”
“Soup?” He sniffs the air but his nose is too congested to be of much use. Minseok is stirring something on the stove, adding salt and it’s almost eerie how domestic the entire scenario is.
“You and your girlfriend must not cook a lot. Half your pots are dusty.” Minseok carries a tray over to him, placing it gently in his lap. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thank you. And, um, yeah, Chanmi used to do most of the cooking, I can’t be trusted around fire.”
“Used to?” Minseok looks at him concerned.
“She and I broke up.” Kris mumbles, picking up his soup spoon, too tired to think of another explanation.
“Ah. I’m so sorry.” Minseok’s hands squeezes his comfortingly and Kris drops the spoon from the sudden contact. Minseok retrieves it. “Is that why you were so unresponsive all week? I thought you were mad at me or something.”
“No, that wasn’t it at all.” Kris chokes out, and he has a mental image of his fairy dragmother facepalming because this was not part of the plan. Minseok is pressed up against his side, absentmindedly fanning the bowl of soup and if Kris was to turn his head just a little to the left, he could easily lean in and press a kiss to those pink lips.
His mental fantasy is interrupted by a white hot flash of pain and he cries out, yanking his fingers away from where they’d strayed to the soup bowl, tips a bright red from the hot liquid. Minseok pulls him off the couch, dragging him over to the sink. “You’re such an idiot.” He chides, holding his hand under the cold water. “How do you manage to be such a klutz, Fanzi?” He turns the water off, inspecting the skin. “The burn doesn’t look too bad. I think we’ll hold off on the soup for now. You should go shower.”
The poodle follows him into the bathroom and he doesn’t have the heart to kick her out, letting her chew up his bath mat as he washes. He finds Minseok in his bedroom when he exits, staring at the picture frames on his bookshelf. He turns, smiling when he sees him.
“Your mom looks exactly the same.” He says tapping on the framed picture of them on his graduation day. He holds up a picture of Kris and Chanyeol, a photo of the two of them on a ferry, arms linked. “You have a lot of pictures with this guy.”
“That was Chany- Chanhyun. A good friend of mine. We were roommates back in college and he helped me out a lot when I first came to Korea.”
“That’s sweet.” Minseok puts the frame back. “No pictures of me though? I’m insulted.”
Kris flops belly-first on the bed, Jojo letting out a disgruntled yelp from being jostled. “It’s on the topmost shelf.”
He’s treated to the incredibly amusing sight of Minseok trying to reach the top shelf before sighing and gesturing for him to retrieve it. The picture is slightly faded, taken on an old film camera but it’s one of his favorites, him and Minseok seated together on a bench at the same park they’d met in, Minseok holding him in a headlock as both of them wear matching grins. Minseok traces the edge of the frame delicately. “This was taken the week before you left for Canada, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, you took Minwoo’s camera and dragged me around Guangzhou for a photoshoot.”
“I lost most of those pictures when we moved to Korea, the rest are back in my mom’s house, god knows what she’s done with them. I’m glad at least one survived.” Minseok squints at the frame. “God, I was an unfortunate looking kid.”
“You were beautiful.” It slips past his lips unexpectedly and he wants to withdraw it, the admission too honest. Minseok gives him a surprised look before cocking an eyebrow. “Why the past tense?”
“Stop fishing for compliments, Min.” He stretches out on the bed, pulling the quilt over him, dog cuddled to his chest. It’s warm and comfortable and he wants to sleep but his stomach growls loudly, echoing around the room and startling his canine companion. Minseok snorts, pointing to a plate on the sidetable.
“I made you a sandwich, figured even you couldn’t hurt yourself with that. I’ll get your medicine too.” He leaves and Kris sighs, tapping Jojo on the chin.
“Your master would make a great housewife.” The dog gives him a baleful look, before trying to steal a bite of his sandwich. He pushes her away. “Bad girl.”
“Don’t talk to my daughter like that.” Minseok climbs into the bed from the other side. “Open up.” He shoves a thermometer under his tongue, ignoring his disgruntled yelp. He checks the reading. “Yep, still high. You need to start taking better care of yourself Yifan, immune systems tend to weaken with age.”
“You’re older than me.” He points out. Minseok snorts, handing him some pills. He swallows them dry, turning to prop himself up on one arm. ‘Hey, don’t you have to go home soon? Jongdae’s probably waiting for you.” He feels fairy dragmother Sue Hoe give him an approving thumbs up in his head. He’s indulged in far too much Minseok already today.
“Jongdae’s gone, weekend conference in Shanghai.” Minseok tugs the corner of the quilt over himself, pressing close against him. “Mind if I stay the night?”
“O-of course.” Kris chokes out and really, fate is having a good laugh at the fact that right as he decides to get over Minseok, he ends up with him in his bed (although unfortunately not in the context he’d like). He stiffens, lying plank straight as Minseok adjusts beside him and shit, he’d forgotten his friend was a cuddler. Minseok pokes him in the side.
“You okay? You seem kind of tense.” He props himself up on his elbows. “I could give you a massage. I got real good at those from burlesque.”
“Maybe later.” Kris chokes out, mental images of Minseok as a masseuse with a lot of hot oil and very little clothing flashing through his head and these are not the kinds of thoughts to be having when there is someone not quite three inches away from you. He flops onto his side. “I’m just gonna sleep now.”
“That’s fine, I’ll probably read or something.” Minseok leans over him to switch the lamp off, bending down to press an exaggeratedly wet kiss to his forehead. “Rest well, Fanzi.” He coos in Cantonese and Kris mimes blowing a kiss back to him. His dreams that night consist of toy poodles and disappointed drag queens.
He wakes up fairly early, sun not yet risen outside. His head’s a bit clearer and he looks a lot better. Minseok is curled up next to him, one arm thrown over his waist as he snuffles softly, twisting in his sleep and burrowing himself closer. Kris lets himself have this, let’s himself pull Minseok closer and study his face in the early morning light, trace fingertips over his jawline, let himself pretend, even for a few hours, that Minseok is his and he’s holding him like a lover.
He falls asleep again, only stirring when he feels movement from the other side of the bed. He cracks an eyelid open, squinting as he makes out Minseok staring at him, head propped up on his palm. “Morning.” he whispers, poking Kris in the cheek softly. He looks so beautiful like this, hair mussed and eyes still half lidded, sunlight shining through the cracks in the curtains and illuminating his skin and Kris wants, he wants so badly to just lean over and press their lips together.
The moment is broken when Minseok sits up, blankets rustling as he leans over to press his palm to Kris’ forehead, letting out an approving hum. “Seems lower. How do you feel?”
“Less like shit.” Kris has to struggle to not get distracted by the huskiness off Minseok’s just-woken-up voice and focus on the other’s words. Minseok stretches, muscles flexing under pale skin and Kris groans, thunking his head back against the pillow. He feels something tickle his side and he turns his head to find Jojo snuggled up by his arm. Minseok follows his gaze, laughing when he sees the tiny dog.
“Good luck, she won’t let you leave the bed now. She needs her personal heaters when she’s sleeping.”
“My kind of girl.” Kris scratches the puppy behind the ears, earning a soft whine. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
He gets a pillow to the face in response. “I’m not your maid Wu.”
“Wow, is this any way to treat an invalid, Kim Minseok?” Kris lets out a bout of incredibly fake-sounding coughing, earning an eye roll from the other who still gets up and heads out of the room, presumably to the kitchen. Kris stretches out against the sheets, sighing softly. He hears a small beeping noise and rolls over to search for the source. Minseok’s phone is on the side table, green message light blinking and he knows it’s wrong and he shouldn’t but he reaches over and swipes the lock screen, programming in the password (Mae West’s birthday- Minseok was a bit too predictable at times) and pulling up the message. It’s from Jongdae and he sticks his tongue out at the screen childishly, before squinting to make out the message.
“Hey, Min, there was a change of plans and I’m flying back early tonight. Meet me at the Park Hyatt at seven, I’ve got dinner reservations.”
He scowls at the phone. Fucking Jongdae the jetsetter with his expensive taste. He nearly drops the phone when it beeps again, a new message loading on the screen.
There’s something I want to ask you.
He hears footsteps coming down the hall and he scrambles to replace the phone and school his features into something less incriminating. Minseok carries in a tray with bowls, milk and cereal on it, dumping the whole thing unceremoniously on Kris’ lap. “Your feast, m’ lord.”
“Servants these days.” he grumbles, rubbing his midsection before pouring himself some frosted flakes. “Your phone beeped by the way.”
“Oh?” He watches as Minseok turns his phone on, reading through his messages. “Seems like we’ll have to cut this playdate short, Jongdae’s back from Shanghai early.” He gives Kris an apologetic look. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” he assures him. “ You’ve already gone through so much trouble for me.”
Minseok shrugs. “What are friends for?”
Yep. Friends. Kris hates that word right about now. He watches Minseok putter about the room, collecting his belonging and eventually his very cranky puppy. He gets pushed back down when he tries to stand up to see him out. “No, stay and rest. I’ll lock up one my way out. If you get bored, practice your fan dance or something, showcase is in two weeks!” Minseok uses one of Jojo’s paws to wave at him before leaving with a loud, “Bye.” echoing in his wake. Kris lies there for a little while longer before deciding sleep is a reasonable course of action.
The next time he’s woken up, it’s by two voices overhead and something poking at his face. Groaning, he tries to pull away only for someone to hold his head in place. He opens his eyes to see Luhan and a short, blonde man staring down at him, the man holding a lipstick tube. Luhan holds up a small hand mirror for him. “Look how pretty you are!”
Kris lets out a small screech when he sees the unholy mess they’ve made of his face. He sits up, pushing their heads away to get a better look. “What the hell did you do to my eyes?”
“Eyeliner.” the blond man says, holding up a tube. “Except you kept moving so it got a bit smeared. Here, let me fix that.” He licks his thumb and moves to sweep it under Kris’ eye.
Kris bats his hand away, glowering at him. “And who the heck are you?”
The man frowns, placing one hand on his hip. “For someone who came grovelling after me like a pathetic mouse, you seems to have gained a bit more sass since the last time I saw you.”
Kris stares until it finally clicks. “Dragmama?” He gapes.
“The one and only.” Sue Hoe preens, pushing his bangs to the side. “Your pretty friend over there let me in. I accidentally took these from your glovebox, thought they were mine.” He chucks a small, black garter belt on the bed and Kris scrambles to cover it from Luhan’s prying eyes. The other flops down on the bed beside him and Sue Hoe comes on his other side, pushing him to the middle.
“So, how’s everything go with Minseok?” Luhan leers at him from his other side.
“Oh is this the boy he was going on about? The ballet instructor?” Sue Hoe picks up the cereal box still sitting by the floor, shoving a handful in his mouth.
“Burlesque.” Kris corrects. “And nothing happened. He made me food, we talked and slept.”
“Together?” Luhan and Sue Hoe intone simultaneously and Kris drops his head into his hands, flustered.
“No! I mean, yes- in the same bed but nothing happened.” He insists.
“Pity. You should go after him, from what you told me his boyfriend isn’t much to speak off. You should seduce him away.”
“He had to leave early because of his boyfriend.” Kris punches a pillow. “Hey, what do you think it means when someone invites you to dinner in a fancy restaurant and says they have to ask you something?”
There’s silence before Luhan speaks. “Someone?”
“Jongdae texted Minseok saying that, it’s why he left.”
“Shiiiiiiiiiit.” Sue Hoe stretches out the word. “How long did you say they’ve been dating?”
“3 years I think.”
Luhan and Sue Hoe look at each other before nodding simultaneously. “Proposal.”
Kris chokes on the handful of cereal he’d just consumed. “What?!”
“It makes sense. Either that or he has cancer.” Luhan says. He pats Kris on the back. “Ah well. You win some, you lose some, I guess.”
Kris leans against the headboard, unsure why he suddenly feels like crying. “This sucks.”
“Poor baby.” Sue Hoe pulls him into his bosom, petting his head. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”
“What?” Kris aks, voice muffled.
“Booze, pizza and show music.”
It is a fun night to be fair, Luhan and Sue Hoe getting progressively wilder with each shot. They make him demonstrate his burlesque solo, hooting as Kris does his fan moves, nearly knocking over a vase in the process. Burlesque leads to talks of stripping which leads to a game of strip poker which leads to Kris falling asleep on the couch in his boxers while Luhan and Sue Hoe furiously make out in the corner.
***
He’s quiet during the next burlesque class, giving a strained greeting to Minseok when he greets him. The other looks peppier than usual, going about class with a cheery grin and it further aggravates his bad mood. He sulks in the corner of the class as one by one students get up to demonstrate their progress to the teachers, receiving critique on things to adjust in their routine as they go along. Tao, whose routine makes great use of his flexibility, finishes up and Kai beckons Kris over.
“Alright Yifan-teasy, let’s see what you’ve done so far. What are you using for your routine?”
“Chair and fans.” Kris holds up the large feathered implements and Kyungsoo pushes a chair to the center of the floor.
He’d spent the past few classes choreographing the routine with Kai. It’s nothing too complicated, just fan tricks and the chair, set to a slow saxophone number. Kai had watched him do a run through the last class, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “It’s good but it still needs something.” He’d said. “Maybe you could incorporate another element into it. How about some stripping?” Upon seeing the bright red of Kris’ face, he backed off. “Okay fine, keep your clothes on, Big K.”
Kris had mulled the thought over in secret later, clumsily practicing the moves in his living room. He’d been a mess at the stripping segment when they’d had those classes . He remembers Minseok having to leave the room to laugh hysterically when he’d attempted to do the spin-and-remove-corset move and ended up nailing Ho-Ya in the face. The pants moves were easier but in class those had been done with clothes on underneath, he’d never actually had to be semi-naked in front of anyone. The thought is marginally terrifying; he knows his body isn’t horrifying but he’s not going to make money on the pole any time soon. Still, it seems wrong to half-ass what he’s worked so hard at and he resolves to at least try stripping during rehearsals.
He begins his routine with a slow walk, aiming for a slow, teasing gait in time with the beat of the song. He has a boa over his shoulders, and he proceeds to remove it slowly while standing near the chair, taking his time in pulling the tie loose, shrugging it down his shoulders in a slow, practised gesture. He fumbles through the small dance portion, messing up his kick segment but he manages to pull it off well enough. He then begins the fan tricks, his favourite part of the routine and the one that comes easiest to him. He spins, moving them gracefully, throwing one up in the air and catching it with ease in his other hand to a small smattering of applause. He sees Kai giving him an approving nod out of the corner of his eyes and notes the surprise on the other man’s face when Kris deviates from the planned choreography, setting his fans down as he sits on the chair. He kicks his legs up, easing his pants off slowly, trying to make it more seductive and less awkward. He hears the cheers as his thighs come into focus and it gives him the boost he needs to kick his sweatpants all the way off.
The sight of the stocking, clipped to the garter belt which he’d worn with black boxers in lieu of anything else send his classmates into hysterics. He flushes as he hears the hooting and cheers along with a yell of “Take it all off, Big K!” (He was going to have to do something about that damned nickname.) He finishes the routine with the fans, slipping a little in the stockings as he uses the fans to tease the class with small, barely-there glimpses of his (barely-there) ass, before ending with a spread-legged pose into the chair, which is becoming something of a signature for him. There’s clapping and Kai is grinning as he watches Kris fumble to cover his crotch with the fans, face red.
“That was unexpected but good job. I’m glad you got over your little bout of modesty. The garter was a nice touch.” Kai turns to face the front of the room, wide grin still on his face. “He’s come a long way, hasn’t he, Min?”
Minseok nods, looking almost proud. “So much better. You look less like a drunk goose now.”
Kris smiles in response before clearing the floor for the next performer. He can see Minseok looking over at him out of the corner of his eye and he stares straight ahead, studiously avoiding the other’s gaze. The other students perform, Kyungsoo doing spectacularly well in his pole routine. Kai ends the class with stretches, before letting them go. “Okay everyone, showcase is next week so please, be consistent in coming to class and with practices.”
He’s about to head out when Tao pulls him to the side. “Hey, a bunch of us were going to go out to this specialty store to look for costumes. Wanna come with?”
He doesn’t have anything better to do and he does need a costume. “Sure.”
“Great, wait here, I’m gonna round up the others.” Kris sits on the bench outside the classroom as Tao runs off down the hall. He hears familiar voices from inside and he peeks his head in.
Minseok and Kai are huddled together, Minseok showing Kai something in his hand that Kris can’t make out. Kai lets out a low whistle. “Wow, that looks really expensive.”
“Seriously, I can’t believe Jongdae went to these lengths. Between the resteraunt and the flowers, it must have cost him a lot.”
“So, you weren’t expecting it at all?”
“Not at all. I wasn’t really surprised to tell you the truth, he’s been giving me the vies for a while. But he was still pretty nervous.” Minseok is smiling and Kris feels a small lurch in his chest as he stands up and stomps away. So that basically confirms the proposal.
Tao and his classmates go nuts in the small speciality store in Insadong, stocked to the rafters with lingerie and jewellery and other implements that Kris can’t even explain. Tao drags him here and there, making him check out different outfits until he eventually gets suckered into buying one, for an obscenely high cost but he’s too depressed to care. If the others pick up on his vibe, they don’t comment. He drives home listening to sad pan pipe music (a leftover relic from Chanyeol’s hippie days), backseat full of shopping bags.
He has a message from Minseok on his phone when he gets home and this time, it’s easier to press delete without reading, fueled by his irrational anger. He’s being unfair, that much he knows but it’s easier to justify when it feels like his heart is being smashed.
***
Yifan frowns down at his workbook, the foreign letters swimming before his eyelids. Carefully, he reads out the sentence slowly. “Michael wal- walked his dog.” The English sounds foreign to his ears and wrong on his tongue and he groans frustrated with his progress or lack thereof. It’s been almost two months since he and his mother had sold the Guangzhou house and moved to Vancouver and Kris still struggles from the frequent bouts of homesickness that hit him at unexpected times. Having a high school with a large Chinese population had helped but it doesn’t change the fact that this city is foreign, the streets unknown and loud, people around him conversing in a language he doesn’t understand. He tries to hide it, mostly for his mother’s sake but at times his frustration trickles over and it’s all he can do to not curl up on his bed and mope.
“Yifan.” he hears his mother’s soft tones as she knocks on his door, before entering. “You have a phone call.”
“From who?” he mumbles.
“Mansek.” He sits up quickly, glancing over at his smiling mother. She holds the receiver out to him, a small smile of her lips. “You should talk quickly, these calls are expensive.”
He swallows hard. “Can you- can you tell him I’m not here?”
Her smile disappears, replaced by a small frown as she covers the receiver with her palm. “Why? Don’t you want to talk to him? Did you two have a fight?” She looks stricken at the very thought.
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” He insists. “Can't you just do it?”
“I’m not lying to him.” His mother frowns.
“Fine.” Yifan stands, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll leave. Then you won’t be lying.”
He’s out the screen door before she can respond, shivering in the cool autumn air. He walks aimlessly around his neighbourhood, trying to distract from the feeling of guilt churning low in his stomach. He’s startled by a voice calling out to him and he turns to see a short, brunette boy waving at him. “Hey, slow down.”
The boy jogs closer and Yifan recognizes him as Henry, one of his neighbours, short with round cheeks and a mischievous grin. They have a few classes together in school and he sometimes catches Henry glancing over at him, giving wide grins when he’s caught but they’ve never actually spoken before. He slaps Yifan on the back and says something in rapid fire English. When he sees the other boy’s blank look, he switches over to clumsy Mandarin. “You’re Kris right? You just moved here.”
He nods, still not quite used to his English name. “From Guangzhou.”
“Cool.” Henry holds up a plastic bag, grin wide. “Wanna have some fun, Kris?”
Henry’s idea of fun consist of them getting drunk in the park off cans of stolen beer, Kris laughing as he watches the other try to communicate his thoughts in increasingly slurred Mandarin. That laughter dies on his lips when Henry climbs into his lap and kisses him full on the mouth.
He’s frozen at first and Henry pulls away to look at him. “Are you not- did I read this wrong?” He shakes his head and leans in again, initiating a kiss that is more enthusiasm than finesse and Henry responds likewise.
That night he goes home and stumbles past his stern-faced mother to his room, all thoughts of Mansek wiped from his head as he relives his rendezvous with Henry, giggling into his pillow at the strange fluttering feeling in his chest.
And over the next few months, as his English improves and his schedule fills up with basketball and school and secret dates with Henry, it becomes easier and easier to forget the best friend he left behind.
***
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