Gate 48 for everyone
Title: gate 48
Pairing: xiumin/luhan, m bandfic
Rating: r
Length: 4000
Summary: exo-m miss the last flight back to seoul and have to spend the night at the airport. kris goes mia. xiumin and luhan thinks he’s old enough to take care of himself, chen and tao are sleepy, and lay hears voices.
It’s raining.
The rain spits onto the car with all the wrath of an angry manager punishing an idol for talking out of turn. It’s loud, almost terrifyingly deafening, that Tao hides his face in Luhan’s neck and blasts heavy metal from his headphones.
“Must he do that?” Chen whispers, frowning at the muted bass that echoes through the van.
Xiumin shrugs, not breaking his combo on Cytus, and Chen lets out a low groan and leans his head against the window, pressing his cheek against the cold glass. Xiumin knows he’s eager to get home soon; two weeks of non-stop, daily promotions in Beijing was too long and too taxing for them. The language and cultural barriers were still alienating them and they were almost desperate to return to the familiarity of Seoul.
“There’s a jam on the bridge up ahead,” Hyunkyun hyung tells them. “A car totaled and it’s too late for us to turn to an alternative route.”
Chen groans again. “We’re going to miss the flight at this rate.”
Hyunkyun hyung gives him a sympathetic look. He, too, was looking forward to going home, but the current weather made it difficult to drive safely.
“Let’s just hope the weather at the airport’s the same, and our flight will be delayed too,” he says, patting Chen on the knee before turning back to the front.
Xiumin pauses his game to imitate the manager’s sympathetic grin and pat-on-the-knee, only to have Chen bat him away with annoyed hands, which unpauses his game by accident and breaks his 685 combo streak on Halcyon. He pouts at Chen, only to be ignored in favour of watching rain droplets race one another down the windowpane, so he increases the volume, leans back in his seat, and restarts the song.
*
They reach Beijing Capital International Airport at 1am, an hour and a half later than planned. It’s still raining heavily, and the crowd of fans that’s usually present had thinned out significantly because of the delay. Their fanbase, does, after all, consist of mainly students in their mid-teens who have school the next morning.
“Breath of fresh air,” Lay comments when he hops off, swinging his torso from side to side to stretch after two hours of being stuck in a cramped van. He blinks, confused, at the relatively empty space between them and the departure area. “What happened to the fans?”
“Probably went home,” Kris replies, imitating Lay’s stretching. “Thank God.”
Hyunkyun hyung whacks him over the head with their passports. “You have an image to keep up,” he reminds Kris, then. “Listen up. I have bad news. Our flight’s taken off, and the next flight’s at 6am, so we have to spend the night at the airport.”
Xiumin lets out a groan, only to have it swallowed by Tao’s torrent of complaints.
“That’s not fair! It wasn’t even our fault we got stuck on the bridge!”
There’s another twack as Hyunkyun hyung whacks Tao over the head as well. “The world continues spinning even if we die, Zitao,” he says apathetically before pressing his passport into Tao’s hands. “I’ve gotten us all tickets for the morning flight and checked our luggage in, so all we have to do is hang around and wait.”
“For five hours?” Luhan mutters, kicking at a stray pebble. “What are we supposed to do?”
“You can grab a bite, get a drink or whatever,” the manager hands Luhan his passport. “Treat it as free time.”
*
The fans that remain are harmless, following them from a respectable distance and then waving them off as they reach the departure gates. Xiumin waves enthusiastically back at them as he heads towards immigration. Next to him, Kris does so as well, his shining grin bedazzling them all and making Xiumin snort.
“Can you be any less of an idol?” He whispers as they line up in front of the immigration counters.
“It’s my princely image,” Kris replies blandly. “You should be telling your precious Luhan that too.” He nods at their subject, who’s walking slowly in order to wave at every fan who has their face pressed against the glass window.
Xiumin frowns again. “He’s prettier than you,” he says, then steps up to the counter with his passport.
He joins Chen and Tao on the other side. The maknaes are grumpy; Tao’s still hooked up to his headphones and Chen has his hands deep into his parka and a frown etched so deep between his eyebrows, Xiumin thinks it might be permanent. Nonetheless, he hooks his arms in theirs and swings them.
“Let’s go get coffee. My treat,” he says to cheer them up.
Tao pulls off his headphones and nods energetically, a huge grin etched on his face. Next to him, Chen looks up from the ground and relaxes a little. His frown lines shallow.
Luhan bounds up to them a while later, sneaking an arm around Xiumin’s waist, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. Lay, the managers, and a stylist noona join them too. Hyunkyun hyung makes a quick headcount, which Xiumin doesn’t really pay attention to, until -
“Where’s Kris?” He asks, standing on tiptoes to be sure he’s gotten everyone.
“He was right behind me,” Xiumin says, looking around. But there was no trace of the tall blonde anywhere.
“I’ll call him,” Tao volunteers, already scrolling through his iPhone for Kris’s number. He presses the phone to his ear, then. “That’s weird. No dial tone.”
Yongmin hyung tosses his head back in frustration. “This can’t be happening. Again.”
Xiumin does a 360, scanning the area for Kris. “I swear he was right behind me in the queue.”
“Maybe he went to the bathroom,” Lay offers brightly. Chen tosses him a look.
“Tao would probably join him if he did,” he points out, jabbing a bony elbow into Tao’s ribs.
“Ow,” Tao whines. “I haven’t seen him since we left the van.”
“We should split up to find him!” Luhan offers brightly, his arm tightening its hold on Xiumin’s waist. “We’ll go this way!”
Yongmin hyung tugs him back by the collar, and Xiumin almost falls back on Luhan if he hadn’t grabbed Luhan’s arm to stable himself. “We’ll wait for him here first,” he says. “He might have gotten stuck at customs again with whatever rotting food he’s left in his bag.”
*
Half an hour later, there’s still no sign of Kris. Tao paces back and forth impatiently, itching to do something other than just dial Kris’s number repeatedly, only to get a recorded message. Hyunkyun hyung and Luhan had gone off to see if Kris was really in Customs’ custody for some rotten bao he’d forgotten about in the corner of his bag, so Xiumin lets Chen drape himself all over him instead.
“Hyung, I’m hungry,” he complains, leaning down to lean his cheek on Xiumin’s shoulder. “I want cake.”
“We’ll get it later,” Xiumin says absentmindedly as he fiddles with his phone. He half-wishes he hadn’t replied his group of high school friends on KakaoTalk in the van, since he’s left with nothing to do but stare at the pictures he’d taken during their two weeks in Beijing.
Chen snuggles closer, spotting a picture of himself holding skewer of grilled scorpion. “That was delicious,” he says wistfully. “We should eat it again when we come back.”
Xiumin remembers the taste of sawdust and the feel sandpaper scraping his tongue dry. “You can have it again. I’ll hold the camera.”
The weight on his shoulder disappears. “That sounds like a plan,” Chen says brightly. He bounces on the balls of his feet, waving his arms from side to side excitedly.
Hyunkyun hyung comes back then, Luhan in tow, both of them looking mildly annoyed. “Customs said he passed around the same time we did,” he says. “Maybe we should split up to find him.”
Luhan’s face brightens up then, and he snatches Xiumin away from Chen in a vicious armlock. “We’ll go this way,” he volunteers, already turning on his heel to head to said direction. Xiumin follows, half relieved to be separated from Chen and Tao. He feels his wallet thanking him in his back pocket.
Yongmin hyung tells Lay, Chen and Tao to go in another direction whilst they cover another area, and with the usual reminders (don’t do anything you don’t want to jeopardise your career with, stay clear of fangirls, etc), they head off. Luhan loops his arm in Xiumin’s the second he knows they’re out of sight, his footsteps slowing, lightening, with every step he takes.
“Kris can take care of himself,” Xiumin says. “We don’t really need to look for him.”
Luhan hums in agreement. “He’s as old as we are.” There’s a manic glint in his eyes, that Xiumin returns with a grin.
After a few glances for security cameras and nosy fans, he pulls Luhan into the next wheelchair-accessible toilet he sees.
*
Two weeks of close to no privacy has them both coming quickly. They lean against one another for a while, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch their breath. Luhan nips at Xiumin’s nose, his upper lip, before pressing a chaste kiss on his mouth, and Xiumin kisses back, hard.
But then Luhan pulls away. “We should go find the lost dragon,” he’s grinning, lips swollen and eyes a little dazed and unfocused. Xiumin loves him like this, and pecks at the corner of his lips just to show it, before reaching down to tuck Luhan back into his undies and zip up his jeans. He buckles Luhan’s belt, pulls down his t-shirt and pats his crotch when he’s done, earning him a chuckle and his actions reciprocated.
“Till we meet again,” Luhan says as he pats Xiumin’s clothed crotch.
“You’re so weird,” Xiumin comments.
“But you like me anyway,” Luhan points out.
Xiumin hums non-committedly. “Maybe,” he says, coyly tilting his head.
“Stop denying it,” Luhan’s close now, their noses touching. “Admit it, you like me.”
Whenever Luhan’s this close Xiumin feels like he’s back to being Minseok. It’s comfortable, familiar, warm. Xiumin closes his eyes and feels Luhan’s lips brush against his, Luhan’s breath warm on his chin, Luhan’s pulse steady and strong under his fingertips.
He opens his eyes. Luhan’s pulled away, and his smile is all kinds of bright and fond and everything that Xiumin would describe love to be.
“Yeah, I guess I do like you,” he whispers, reaching up to press a finger on the scar on Luhan’s lower lip.
*
The mushy romantic exchange between them results in a second round of hasty handjobs in the spacious cubicle that ends with Luhan going down on his knees to suck on the head of Xiumin’s dick.
“God, you taste…” Luhan stands up, leaning into Xiumin’s space to kiss him, and in his post-coital daze Xiumin successfully bangs his head against the wall trying to get away.
“Gargle first please,” he says firmly, pressing a hand on Luhan’s chest to keep him away, and Luhan does, waddling over to the sink with his jeans and undies pooled around his ankles and his limp cock hanging in between his legs. He gargles twice, each time bending over to spit into the sink and giving Xiumin a glorious view of his ass.
It’s not perky, but it’s full enough for him to grab and knead with his hands, and like every other aspect of Luhan, Xiumin’s deeply fond of it as well.
“Admiring my ass?” Luhan waggles his eyebrows as he pulls his undies and jeans up and straightens his clothes. “I like yours better though,” he reaches around to cup Xiumin’s bare ass, and Xiumin lets him have one squeeze before pushing his hand away.
“Don’t we all,” he grins, pulling his own pants up as well.
*
It’s almost 2:30am when they finally realise that they have a band and managers to return to. After meticulously preening in front of the mirror until they’re convinced their appearances have been fixed to its pre-tryst state, they open the door and peer out. Xiumin leaves first, checks that the coast is clear, and knocks twice to let Luhan know that he can come out.
Luhan checks his phone while they walk. “Looks like they haven’t found Kris yet,” he says, scrolling through the chats on KakaoTalk. “No one’s seems to be freaking out, though. Hyunkyun hyung texted fifteen minutes ago saying that they’re gonna grab a bite, and the kids are at Coffee Bean.”
“Let’s go find them, then,” Xiumin grabs his hand and heads towards the direction he remembers Coffee Bean is in.
“Isn’t it that way?” Luhan points towards another direction. Gates 40-50. “Remember that time we flew to Changsha? We grabbed coffee on the way to gate 48.”
*
Something was off. There were very few people around them, but not enough for it to be suspicious, just puzzling. The air around them was still, heavy, and the lack of signs was worrying. At first Xiumin thought that they had wandered into a section of the terminal they were not familiar with, but as they continued walking they realised that it was much more than that.
“Something feels strange,” Xiumin tells Luhan.
“So it wasn’t just me,” Luhan says softly. He was pressed close to Xiumin out of fear. “I thought I was just hallucinating things but… there’s something really strange about this place.”
“We should turn back,” Xiumin suggests, stopping in his step.
Luhan grabs his arm and turns them both towards the direction they came from.
That’s when they see Lay, Chen and Tao walking towards them.
“Hyung!” Chen calls out, bounding over to them in quick steps. “Where did you guys go? Any sign of Kris hyung?”
“No,” Xiumin replies. “We were just walking around, but we didn’t see him.”
Tao was sipping silently at a cup of green tea latte, and Luhan, out of sheer playfulness to spite the youngest, grabs his cup to steal a gulp.
“Hey!” Tao exclaims, but it is weak, and Luhan pays him no mind, knowing he’ll attack again once he thinks Luhan’s had enough. But he’s rubbing at his eyes instead, his eyelids drooping heavily.
“Zitao, you okay?” Xiumin asks.
“Sleepy,” Tao mumbles. He mutters something else in Mandarin that Xiumin doesn’t catch, so he turns to Lay for a translation.
“He says we need to find Kris hyung,” Lay shrugs. “He’ll be back when he wants to, though.”
“He’s big enough,” Luhan pokes the straw through the ice, trying to get whatever’s left of the drink. “Not just size-wise.”
Chen snorts. “How can a guy his height go missing anyway? And it’s not even the first time he’s pulled this on us.”
“Where did you look before coming here?” Xiumin directs the question to Lay, but it’s Chen who answers.
“Everywhere but here, really. We grabbed drinks and then decided to come here,” and with that, he walks past Xiumin to the strange part of the airport. Lay follows suit, and Tao tags along, hiding a yawn behind his hand.
“We should tell them this place is strange,” Luhan sounds a little worried.
“What if it’s just our imagination?” Xiumin asks. “They look fine.”
“Maybe,” Luhan says softly. His hand slides up Xiumin’s arm to cup his elbow, giving it a squeeze that Xiumin knows was more for himself than it was for him.
“Let’s go,” he says, taking Luhan’s hand in his and tugging him towards the other three.
*
The walkway is unusually long, even more so than usual. There’s also a heavy silence in the air that sits hangs densely above their heads. The usual airport announcements seem almost muted, and the calming music that usually fills the space is nonexistent.
A chill runs through Xiumin’s spine, but as always, he doesn’t let his fear show, especially not when he has a sleepy Tao attached to his left arm and a cowardly Luhan glued to his right.
“I’m tired,” Tao whines, tugging on Xiumin’s sleeve.
“Just a little bit more, Tao, you can see the end of the wing just there in the distance,” Xiumin says. It’s a half-lie. He can’t, not really, since the walkway seems to stretch forever. But there’s a familiar landmark in the distance that he hopes is part of the main atrium, so he nudges Tao to look in that direction.
“But I’m really sleepy,” Tao insists, leaning down to rest his head on Xiumin’s shoulder. It’s an awkward position, since his knees and back are half bent to match Xiumin’s height. He shifts his weight a little, and nuzzles into Xiumin’s neck.
Xiumin almost falls over, but shifts his weight as well to take Tao’s weight on his shoulder. They walk attached that way for a while, until Chen stops abruptly in front of them, rubbing his eyes with his fists.
“I’m sleepy too,” he says. Tao looks up slowly and gives him a sympathetic expression before letting go of Xiumin to cling onto Chen’s arm instead. The pair blink sleepily at Xiumin, before Chen tugs them both over to a row of chairs.
“What-” Lay bites out.
Chen plops onto the seat and tugs Tao down as well. They look a little dazed, their eyes clouded over and distant. Lay strides over to them and tries to pull Chen to his feet, but Chen shrugs him away and leans on Tao's shoulder.
“Uh, Jongdae, this is not the time,” Lay says, pulling at Chen’s parka, only to be shrugged away again.
“Hey get up,” Xiumin adds, walking over to them. He tugs onto Tao's arm, but the younger boy bats him away as well, his eyes fluttering shut and his head lolling and to rest against Chen's.
“Did they just-” Lay begins.
“Fall asleep,” Xiumin says. “Yeah.”
“Oh come on,” Luhan exclaims. He goes over to them and shakes Chen’s shoulders first, the Tao’s. “Zhongda, Zitao, wake up!” After a few rounds of alternating between the two and eliciting close to no response, he gives up.
“We could splash water on their faces,” Lay says, already swinging his backpack to the front to grab his bottle. He pulls it out victoriously and steps forward, unscrewing the cap.
“Tao will attack if you mess up his hair,” Xiumin reminds him, and his hand withdraws.
“We can’t just stand here,” Luhan’s voice was getting increasingly desperate. He was scared and didn’t want to stay in the strange area any longer.
“We could carry them,” Xiumin suggests. “I think we’ll be able to manage.”
Lay takes a step away from them. “I can’t. My back,” he gestures furiously to said body part.
Luhan rolls his eyes. “No one told you you needed to dance from 6pm to 6am but you and yourself.”
*
After a slight tousle over Chen, who is significantly lighter and shorter, Luhan agrees to carry Tao, but not before leaning in close to Xiumin’s ear and whispering:
“You owe me a blowjob for this,” he pulls away just before Xiumin can reply to haul Tao over his back. Xiumin settles for a scowl, which Luhan returns with a smirk.
“You know I hate the taste of dick,” he hisses as he pulls Chen roughly onto his back.
“But it’s my dick,” Luhan says, and Xiumin whacks him, hard, on his side. The force of it has Chen slipping down his back, so he does a little jump to make sure Chen doesn’t fall off.
There’s completely no response from Chen from the harsh treatment, and if Xiumin hadn’t felt the rise and fall of his chest he’d think Chen was dead. He turns to Luhan to tell him this, but Luhan’s gripping one of Tao’s hands, rubbing a thumb across Tao’s knuckles, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“I’m scared,” he says softly, and Xiumin reaches out to squeeze his hand as comfortingly as he could. He was terrified too, since both Chen and Tao had fallen asleep so quickly and suddenly, and were now like dead weights on their backs.
“…then why don’t you tell them?” Xiumin hears Lay say softly in Mandarin. At first he thinks he is hallucinating, but then Lay tilts his head, as though talking to someone beside him, and repeats himself.
“Yixing?” Luhan says, resting a hand on Lay’s shoulder. Xiumin could tell that he, too, was getting increasingly terrified by the recent turn of events.
“Ah,” Lay smiles at his invisible companion on his right, then turns to grin at them both. “He’s here. Let’s go back.” And with that, he starts walking again, his pace a little quicker. Xiumin watches as he turns occasionally to the side to say something, or laugh, or nod.
“What the fuck,” Luhan curses, the fear in his voice making it shaky. His cheeks were paling, the colour fading from the rest of his face as well. “Who is he talking to?”
“I don’t want to know,” Xiumin says. He can feel goosebumps his arms rising every time he looks at Lay. He wants make him stop, make him shut up and just walk silently with his head facing forward, but he doesn’t dare to step closer to Lay, so he keeps a distance, letting Luhan press himself close to him.
His arms are aching from Chen’s weight, but he keeps walking. He can tell Luhan was getting tired as well, struggling under Tao’s weight, his footsteps lagging and the gap between them and Lay increasing.
Lay was oblivious to them both, ducking his head sheepishly instead from whatever the unseen being he’s having a conversation with had said.
Xiumin focuses on walking instead. Right foot, then left, arms under Chen’s knees, back slightly curved. Right. Left. Right. Left.
*
There’s a very familiar sight in the distance, high counters with long queues snaking in front of them. The heaviness in the air lightens, as though the weight’s been lifted off their shoulders. The announcements grow louder, as though someone’s turned up the volume, and the soothing background music can be heard again. Luhan’s steps get lighter, faster, as they get closer to the counter. Lay reaches first, of course, and starts talking animatedly with someone behind the manager.
Someone tall with blond hair.
“Kris,” Xiumin greets, his voice a little shaky from fatigue and fear. He slides Chen off his back onto a nearby chair, then walks up to Kris. “Where did you go? We were looking everywhere for you.”
The look that Kris has on his face is of genuine confusion.
“What do you mean?” He asks, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. “I was always with you guys, right next to Lay.”
a/n: i’m sorry it’s so short T-T but somehow i guess these kinds of things are better left short so people won’t be tortured i do hope you enjoyed it (or the xiuhan, at least) anyway!
Pairing: xiumin/luhan, m bandfic
Rating: r
Length: 4000
Summary: exo-m miss the last flight back to seoul and have to spend the night at the airport. kris goes mia. xiumin and luhan thinks he’s old enough to take care of himself, chen and tao are sleepy, and lay hears voices.
It’s raining.
The rain spits onto the car with all the wrath of an angry manager punishing an idol for talking out of turn. It’s loud, almost terrifyingly deafening, that Tao hides his face in Luhan’s neck and blasts heavy metal from his headphones.
“Must he do that?” Chen whispers, frowning at the muted bass that echoes through the van.
Xiumin shrugs, not breaking his combo on Cytus, and Chen lets out a low groan and leans his head against the window, pressing his cheek against the cold glass. Xiumin knows he’s eager to get home soon; two weeks of non-stop, daily promotions in Beijing was too long and too taxing for them. The language and cultural barriers were still alienating them and they were almost desperate to return to the familiarity of Seoul.
“There’s a jam on the bridge up ahead,” Hyunkyun hyung tells them. “A car totaled and it’s too late for us to turn to an alternative route.”
Chen groans again. “We’re going to miss the flight at this rate.”
Hyunkyun hyung gives him a sympathetic look. He, too, was looking forward to going home, but the current weather made it difficult to drive safely.
“Let’s just hope the weather at the airport’s the same, and our flight will be delayed too,” he says, patting Chen on the knee before turning back to the front.
Xiumin pauses his game to imitate the manager’s sympathetic grin and pat-on-the-knee, only to have Chen bat him away with annoyed hands, which unpauses his game by accident and breaks his 685 combo streak on Halcyon. He pouts at Chen, only to be ignored in favour of watching rain droplets race one another down the windowpane, so he increases the volume, leans back in his seat, and restarts the song.
*
They reach Beijing Capital International Airport at 1am, an hour and a half later than planned. It’s still raining heavily, and the crowd of fans that’s usually present had thinned out significantly because of the delay. Their fanbase, does, after all, consist of mainly students in their mid-teens who have school the next morning.
“Breath of fresh air,” Lay comments when he hops off, swinging his torso from side to side to stretch after two hours of being stuck in a cramped van. He blinks, confused, at the relatively empty space between them and the departure area. “What happened to the fans?”
“Probably went home,” Kris replies, imitating Lay’s stretching. “Thank God.”
Hyunkyun hyung whacks him over the head with their passports. “You have an image to keep up,” he reminds Kris, then. “Listen up. I have bad news. Our flight’s taken off, and the next flight’s at 6am, so we have to spend the night at the airport.”
Xiumin lets out a groan, only to have it swallowed by Tao’s torrent of complaints.
“That’s not fair! It wasn’t even our fault we got stuck on the bridge!”
There’s another twack as Hyunkyun hyung whacks Tao over the head as well. “The world continues spinning even if we die, Zitao,” he says apathetically before pressing his passport into Tao’s hands. “I’ve gotten us all tickets for the morning flight and checked our luggage in, so all we have to do is hang around and wait.”
“For five hours?” Luhan mutters, kicking at a stray pebble. “What are we supposed to do?”
“You can grab a bite, get a drink or whatever,” the manager hands Luhan his passport. “Treat it as free time.”
*
The fans that remain are harmless, following them from a respectable distance and then waving them off as they reach the departure gates. Xiumin waves enthusiastically back at them as he heads towards immigration. Next to him, Kris does so as well, his shining grin bedazzling them all and making Xiumin snort.
“Can you be any less of an idol?” He whispers as they line up in front of the immigration counters.
“It’s my princely image,” Kris replies blandly. “You should be telling your precious Luhan that too.” He nods at their subject, who’s walking slowly in order to wave at every fan who has their face pressed against the glass window.
Xiumin frowns again. “He’s prettier than you,” he says, then steps up to the counter with his passport.
He joins Chen and Tao on the other side. The maknaes are grumpy; Tao’s still hooked up to his headphones and Chen has his hands deep into his parka and a frown etched so deep between his eyebrows, Xiumin thinks it might be permanent. Nonetheless, he hooks his arms in theirs and swings them.
“Let’s go get coffee. My treat,” he says to cheer them up.
Tao pulls off his headphones and nods energetically, a huge grin etched on his face. Next to him, Chen looks up from the ground and relaxes a little. His frown lines shallow.
Luhan bounds up to them a while later, sneaking an arm around Xiumin’s waist, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. Lay, the managers, and a stylist noona join them too. Hyunkyun hyung makes a quick headcount, which Xiumin doesn’t really pay attention to, until -
“Where’s Kris?” He asks, standing on tiptoes to be sure he’s gotten everyone.
“He was right behind me,” Xiumin says, looking around. But there was no trace of the tall blonde anywhere.
“I’ll call him,” Tao volunteers, already scrolling through his iPhone for Kris’s number. He presses the phone to his ear, then. “That’s weird. No dial tone.”
Yongmin hyung tosses his head back in frustration. “This can’t be happening. Again.”
Xiumin does a 360, scanning the area for Kris. “I swear he was right behind me in the queue.”
“Maybe he went to the bathroom,” Lay offers brightly. Chen tosses him a look.
“Tao would probably join him if he did,” he points out, jabbing a bony elbow into Tao’s ribs.
“Ow,” Tao whines. “I haven’t seen him since we left the van.”
“We should split up to find him!” Luhan offers brightly, his arm tightening its hold on Xiumin’s waist. “We’ll go this way!”
Yongmin hyung tugs him back by the collar, and Xiumin almost falls back on Luhan if he hadn’t grabbed Luhan’s arm to stable himself. “We’ll wait for him here first,” he says. “He might have gotten stuck at customs again with whatever rotting food he’s left in his bag.”
*
Half an hour later, there’s still no sign of Kris. Tao paces back and forth impatiently, itching to do something other than just dial Kris’s number repeatedly, only to get a recorded message. Hyunkyun hyung and Luhan had gone off to see if Kris was really in Customs’ custody for some rotten bao he’d forgotten about in the corner of his bag, so Xiumin lets Chen drape himself all over him instead.
“Hyung, I’m hungry,” he complains, leaning down to lean his cheek on Xiumin’s shoulder. “I want cake.”
“We’ll get it later,” Xiumin says absentmindedly as he fiddles with his phone. He half-wishes he hadn’t replied his group of high school friends on KakaoTalk in the van, since he’s left with nothing to do but stare at the pictures he’d taken during their two weeks in Beijing.
Chen snuggles closer, spotting a picture of himself holding skewer of grilled scorpion. “That was delicious,” he says wistfully. “We should eat it again when we come back.”
Xiumin remembers the taste of sawdust and the feel sandpaper scraping his tongue dry. “You can have it again. I’ll hold the camera.”
The weight on his shoulder disappears. “That sounds like a plan,” Chen says brightly. He bounces on the balls of his feet, waving his arms from side to side excitedly.
Hyunkyun hyung comes back then, Luhan in tow, both of them looking mildly annoyed. “Customs said he passed around the same time we did,” he says. “Maybe we should split up to find him.”
Luhan’s face brightens up then, and he snatches Xiumin away from Chen in a vicious armlock. “We’ll go this way,” he volunteers, already turning on his heel to head to said direction. Xiumin follows, half relieved to be separated from Chen and Tao. He feels his wallet thanking him in his back pocket.
Yongmin hyung tells Lay, Chen and Tao to go in another direction whilst they cover another area, and with the usual reminders (don’t do anything you don’t want to jeopardise your career with, stay clear of fangirls, etc), they head off. Luhan loops his arm in Xiumin’s the second he knows they’re out of sight, his footsteps slowing, lightening, with every step he takes.
“Kris can take care of himself,” Xiumin says. “We don’t really need to look for him.”
Luhan hums in agreement. “He’s as old as we are.” There’s a manic glint in his eyes, that Xiumin returns with a grin.
After a few glances for security cameras and nosy fans, he pulls Luhan into the next wheelchair-accessible toilet he sees.
*
Two weeks of close to no privacy has them both coming quickly. They lean against one another for a while, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch their breath. Luhan nips at Xiumin’s nose, his upper lip, before pressing a chaste kiss on his mouth, and Xiumin kisses back, hard.
But then Luhan pulls away. “We should go find the lost dragon,” he’s grinning, lips swollen and eyes a little dazed and unfocused. Xiumin loves him like this, and pecks at the corner of his lips just to show it, before reaching down to tuck Luhan back into his undies and zip up his jeans. He buckles Luhan’s belt, pulls down his t-shirt and pats his crotch when he’s done, earning him a chuckle and his actions reciprocated.
“Till we meet again,” Luhan says as he pats Xiumin’s clothed crotch.
“You’re so weird,” Xiumin comments.
“But you like me anyway,” Luhan points out.
Xiumin hums non-committedly. “Maybe,” he says, coyly tilting his head.
“Stop denying it,” Luhan’s close now, their noses touching. “Admit it, you like me.”
Whenever Luhan’s this close Xiumin feels like he’s back to being Minseok. It’s comfortable, familiar, warm. Xiumin closes his eyes and feels Luhan’s lips brush against his, Luhan’s breath warm on his chin, Luhan’s pulse steady and strong under his fingertips.
He opens his eyes. Luhan’s pulled away, and his smile is all kinds of bright and fond and everything that Xiumin would describe love to be.
“Yeah, I guess I do like you,” he whispers, reaching up to press a finger on the scar on Luhan’s lower lip.
*
The mushy romantic exchange between them results in a second round of hasty handjobs in the spacious cubicle that ends with Luhan going down on his knees to suck on the head of Xiumin’s dick.
“God, you taste…” Luhan stands up, leaning into Xiumin’s space to kiss him, and in his post-coital daze Xiumin successfully bangs his head against the wall trying to get away.
“Gargle first please,” he says firmly, pressing a hand on Luhan’s chest to keep him away, and Luhan does, waddling over to the sink with his jeans and undies pooled around his ankles and his limp cock hanging in between his legs. He gargles twice, each time bending over to spit into the sink and giving Xiumin a glorious view of his ass.
It’s not perky, but it’s full enough for him to grab and knead with his hands, and like every other aspect of Luhan, Xiumin’s deeply fond of it as well.
“Admiring my ass?” Luhan waggles his eyebrows as he pulls his undies and jeans up and straightens his clothes. “I like yours better though,” he reaches around to cup Xiumin’s bare ass, and Xiumin lets him have one squeeze before pushing his hand away.
“Don’t we all,” he grins, pulling his own pants up as well.
*
It’s almost 2:30am when they finally realise that they have a band and managers to return to. After meticulously preening in front of the mirror until they’re convinced their appearances have been fixed to its pre-tryst state, they open the door and peer out. Xiumin leaves first, checks that the coast is clear, and knocks twice to let Luhan know that he can come out.
Luhan checks his phone while they walk. “Looks like they haven’t found Kris yet,” he says, scrolling through the chats on KakaoTalk. “No one’s seems to be freaking out, though. Hyunkyun hyung texted fifteen minutes ago saying that they’re gonna grab a bite, and the kids are at Coffee Bean.”
“Let’s go find them, then,” Xiumin grabs his hand and heads towards the direction he remembers Coffee Bean is in.
“Isn’t it that way?” Luhan points towards another direction. Gates 40-50. “Remember that time we flew to Changsha? We grabbed coffee on the way to gate 48.”
*
Something was off. There were very few people around them, but not enough for it to be suspicious, just puzzling. The air around them was still, heavy, and the lack of signs was worrying. At first Xiumin thought that they had wandered into a section of the terminal they were not familiar with, but as they continued walking they realised that it was much more than that.
“Something feels strange,” Xiumin tells Luhan.
“So it wasn’t just me,” Luhan says softly. He was pressed close to Xiumin out of fear. “I thought I was just hallucinating things but… there’s something really strange about this place.”
“We should turn back,” Xiumin suggests, stopping in his step.
Luhan grabs his arm and turns them both towards the direction they came from.
That’s when they see Lay, Chen and Tao walking towards them.
“Hyung!” Chen calls out, bounding over to them in quick steps. “Where did you guys go? Any sign of Kris hyung?”
“No,” Xiumin replies. “We were just walking around, but we didn’t see him.”
Tao was sipping silently at a cup of green tea latte, and Luhan, out of sheer playfulness to spite the youngest, grabs his cup to steal a gulp.
“Hey!” Tao exclaims, but it is weak, and Luhan pays him no mind, knowing he’ll attack again once he thinks Luhan’s had enough. But he’s rubbing at his eyes instead, his eyelids drooping heavily.
“Zitao, you okay?” Xiumin asks.
“Sleepy,” Tao mumbles. He mutters something else in Mandarin that Xiumin doesn’t catch, so he turns to Lay for a translation.
“He says we need to find Kris hyung,” Lay shrugs. “He’ll be back when he wants to, though.”
“He’s big enough,” Luhan pokes the straw through the ice, trying to get whatever’s left of the drink. “Not just size-wise.”
Chen snorts. “How can a guy his height go missing anyway? And it’s not even the first time he’s pulled this on us.”
“Where did you look before coming here?” Xiumin directs the question to Lay, but it’s Chen who answers.
“Everywhere but here, really. We grabbed drinks and then decided to come here,” and with that, he walks past Xiumin to the strange part of the airport. Lay follows suit, and Tao tags along, hiding a yawn behind his hand.
“We should tell them this place is strange,” Luhan sounds a little worried.
“What if it’s just our imagination?” Xiumin asks. “They look fine.”
“Maybe,” Luhan says softly. His hand slides up Xiumin’s arm to cup his elbow, giving it a squeeze that Xiumin knows was more for himself than it was for him.
“Let’s go,” he says, taking Luhan’s hand in his and tugging him towards the other three.
*
The walkway is unusually long, even more so than usual. There’s also a heavy silence in the air that sits hangs densely above their heads. The usual airport announcements seem almost muted, and the calming music that usually fills the space is nonexistent.
A chill runs through Xiumin’s spine, but as always, he doesn’t let his fear show, especially not when he has a sleepy Tao attached to his left arm and a cowardly Luhan glued to his right.
“I’m tired,” Tao whines, tugging on Xiumin’s sleeve.
“Just a little bit more, Tao, you can see the end of the wing just there in the distance,” Xiumin says. It’s a half-lie. He can’t, not really, since the walkway seems to stretch forever. But there’s a familiar landmark in the distance that he hopes is part of the main atrium, so he nudges Tao to look in that direction.
“But I’m really sleepy,” Tao insists, leaning down to rest his head on Xiumin’s shoulder. It’s an awkward position, since his knees and back are half bent to match Xiumin’s height. He shifts his weight a little, and nuzzles into Xiumin’s neck.
Xiumin almost falls over, but shifts his weight as well to take Tao’s weight on his shoulder. They walk attached that way for a while, until Chen stops abruptly in front of them, rubbing his eyes with his fists.
“I’m sleepy too,” he says. Tao looks up slowly and gives him a sympathetic expression before letting go of Xiumin to cling onto Chen’s arm instead. The pair blink sleepily at Xiumin, before Chen tugs them both over to a row of chairs.
“What-” Lay bites out.
Chen plops onto the seat and tugs Tao down as well. They look a little dazed, their eyes clouded over and distant. Lay strides over to them and tries to pull Chen to his feet, but Chen shrugs him away and leans on Tao's shoulder.
“Uh, Jongdae, this is not the time,” Lay says, pulling at Chen’s parka, only to be shrugged away again.
“Hey get up,” Xiumin adds, walking over to them. He tugs onto Tao's arm, but the younger boy bats him away as well, his eyes fluttering shut and his head lolling and to rest against Chen's.
“Did they just-” Lay begins.
“Fall asleep,” Xiumin says. “Yeah.”
“Oh come on,” Luhan exclaims. He goes over to them and shakes Chen’s shoulders first, the Tao’s. “Zhongda, Zitao, wake up!” After a few rounds of alternating between the two and eliciting close to no response, he gives up.
“We could splash water on their faces,” Lay says, already swinging his backpack to the front to grab his bottle. He pulls it out victoriously and steps forward, unscrewing the cap.
“Tao will attack if you mess up his hair,” Xiumin reminds him, and his hand withdraws.
“We can’t just stand here,” Luhan’s voice was getting increasingly desperate. He was scared and didn’t want to stay in the strange area any longer.
“We could carry them,” Xiumin suggests. “I think we’ll be able to manage.”
Lay takes a step away from them. “I can’t. My back,” he gestures furiously to said body part.
Luhan rolls his eyes. “No one told you you needed to dance from 6pm to 6am but you and yourself.”
*
After a slight tousle over Chen, who is significantly lighter and shorter, Luhan agrees to carry Tao, but not before leaning in close to Xiumin’s ear and whispering:
“You owe me a blowjob for this,” he pulls away just before Xiumin can reply to haul Tao over his back. Xiumin settles for a scowl, which Luhan returns with a smirk.
“You know I hate the taste of dick,” he hisses as he pulls Chen roughly onto his back.
“But it’s my dick,” Luhan says, and Xiumin whacks him, hard, on his side. The force of it has Chen slipping down his back, so he does a little jump to make sure Chen doesn’t fall off.
There’s completely no response from Chen from the harsh treatment, and if Xiumin hadn’t felt the rise and fall of his chest he’d think Chen was dead. He turns to Luhan to tell him this, but Luhan’s gripping one of Tao’s hands, rubbing a thumb across Tao’s knuckles, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“I’m scared,” he says softly, and Xiumin reaches out to squeeze his hand as comfortingly as he could. He was terrified too, since both Chen and Tao had fallen asleep so quickly and suddenly, and were now like dead weights on their backs.
“…then why don’t you tell them?” Xiumin hears Lay say softly in Mandarin. At first he thinks he is hallucinating, but then Lay tilts his head, as though talking to someone beside him, and repeats himself.
“Yixing?” Luhan says, resting a hand on Lay’s shoulder. Xiumin could tell that he, too, was getting increasingly terrified by the recent turn of events.
“Ah,” Lay smiles at his invisible companion on his right, then turns to grin at them both. “He’s here. Let’s go back.” And with that, he starts walking again, his pace a little quicker. Xiumin watches as he turns occasionally to the side to say something, or laugh, or nod.
“What the fuck,” Luhan curses, the fear in his voice making it shaky. His cheeks were paling, the colour fading from the rest of his face as well. “Who is he talking to?”
“I don’t want to know,” Xiumin says. He can feel goosebumps his arms rising every time he looks at Lay. He wants make him stop, make him shut up and just walk silently with his head facing forward, but he doesn’t dare to step closer to Lay, so he keeps a distance, letting Luhan press himself close to him.
His arms are aching from Chen’s weight, but he keeps walking. He can tell Luhan was getting tired as well, struggling under Tao’s weight, his footsteps lagging and the gap between them and Lay increasing.
Lay was oblivious to them both, ducking his head sheepishly instead from whatever the unseen being he’s having a conversation with had said.
Xiumin focuses on walking instead. Right foot, then left, arms under Chen’s knees, back slightly curved. Right. Left. Right. Left.
*
There’s a very familiar sight in the distance, high counters with long queues snaking in front of them. The heaviness in the air lightens, as though the weight’s been lifted off their shoulders. The announcements grow louder, as though someone’s turned up the volume, and the soothing background music can be heard again. Luhan’s steps get lighter, faster, as they get closer to the counter. Lay reaches first, of course, and starts talking animatedly with someone behind the manager.
Someone tall with blond hair.
“Kris,” Xiumin greets, his voice a little shaky from fatigue and fear. He slides Chen off his back onto a nearby chair, then walks up to Kris. “Where did you go? We were looking everywhere for you.”
The look that Kris has on his face is of genuine confusion.
“What do you mean?” He asks, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. “I was always with you guys, right next to Lay.”
a/n: i’m sorry it’s so short T-T but somehow i guess these kinds of things are better left short so people won’t be tortured i do hope you enjoyed it (or the xiuhan, at least) anyway!