“You are the dancing queen…

Young and sweet…

Only seventeen..."

Kris let out a loud groan, reaching blindly for his phone. It had been buzzing on and off with snapchats and texts for the last hour, but he had been insistent on catching as much sleep as he could and had ignored them, falling back into slumber once the phone had stilled. But now it was ringing infuriatingly loud. And there was only one person that had that song as their ringtone (a request which Kris had only begrudgingly filled when he was threatened that he’d never get his hoodie back.)

“Hello?” Kris grumbled after scrambling for another thirty seconds or so. He sat up blearily, rubbing his eyes, his sheets sliding down over his bare shoulders.

“Sweet baby jesus how long does it take you to answer? I sent you like three text messages; did you not read any of them? I waited like an hour in between each one in case they didn’t send because your phone is such crap, but like three in a row? Honestly, sometimes you act like there are more important things in life than me, it’s…”

By now Kris had fully straightened, holding the phone slightly away from him because the tinny voice was not helping his hangover. “Taozi,” he said patiently when he could finally get a word in edgewise. “I’m sorry, I was sleeping.”

“Well then get up!” Zitao said in what sounded like utter exasperation. “We have a project due on Monday and I don’t know what it’s even about, so…you need to come to my house right now and finish it.”

“I just woke up,” Kris mumbled unevenly. “Give me an hour or so.”

“Kris-ah, it’s almost five p.m. You need to come now.”

“Five p.m?!”

“Yes,” Zitao said impatiently. “You slept in.”

Kris groaned loudly, his head still pounding. It had been a bad idea to challenge Luhan to a drinking game, a bad idea indeed. “Can’t we do this tomorrow?”

“I’m out of town. My mom’s taking me shopping.”

“Ughhh,” Kris moaned again, and then pulled his blankets off him with a forceful growl. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

-

“Luhan?” Junmyeon called.

“Coming,” Luhan grunted, forcing the oven door shut with one last shove. He took in a deep breath before he walked back out front, not wanting to admit that he had broken a sweat over the stupid oven door. “Need something?”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon told him with an apologetic look on his face. “I know I gave you an eight hour shift today and usually you get Sundays off but… Victoria can’t work tomorrow and I’m busy so…you need to come in tomorrow. For another shift. For…eight hours.” He cringed, as if expecting Luhan to attack him.

“Yeah, sure,” Luhan replied offhandedly, and then the sink tap so that he could dampen a towel. He pressed it to his forehead, breathing a sigh of relief (good god that oven door had done a number on him, he needed to start going to the gym) and then noted Junmyeon’s silence. He lowered the towel sheepishly, and then awkwardly began to wipe up the counters with it instead.

“Are you ok?” Junmyeon asked him, concerned.

“Oh yeah, fine,” Luhan answered quickly, wondering if he really looked that bad. Well, he had only gotten an hour’s worth of sleep before coming to work, so it wasn’t like he was that unfit, it was just that he was tired-

“But you’ve never accepted a shift so easily,” Junmyeon said suspiciously, breaking his train of thought. “Least of all eight hour shifts.”

“Oh,” Luhan said, stopping his scrubbing. “That. Yeah. Well, I don’t have any other plans, so.”

Junmyeon raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have any other plans? Last time I asked you to come in fifteen minutes early to check if the new filter parts had been delivered and you told me you couldn’t because you had to fix Sehun’s hair before he went to detention.” He leaned back against the counters. “You always have plans.”

“Okay, first of all,” Luhan answered defensively, “Sehun just dyed his hair and the dye made his hair super stringy and that teacher is a hard-, so you can’t blame me for wanting to make sure it looked decent before he went in to serve his time-” Junmyeon frowned slightly, but Luhan continued before he could contradict. “-I’m a good friend, okay? You never know, the teacher could have a thing about hair. She might think that if you don’t brush it you don’t respect her. Or that you just had or something.”

“Okay…you’re crazy,” Junmyeon said slowly, “but tomorrow is a Sunday. I’ve never seen you without plans on a Sunday.”

Luhan sighed. “Everyone’s working on some dumb English presentation. It’s worth like 20% of their final grade. How is it that they all ended up in the same class? Anyway, Minseok is rehearsing for it tomorrow with Jongin, and Jongin told me I couldn’t come because I make him uncomfortable during rehearsals. Sehun met some sophomore at Kris’s and he’s going to his place, so obviously I’m not gonna stick my nose into that-”

Junmyeon shuddered in agreement.

“-and Jongdae said he’s helping Yixing with that stupid project too, and we both know what ‘helping’ means- it means I really don’t want to be there while they’re face no thanks- Tao’s out of town, Baek isn’t answering any of my texts…basically I’m friendless for the weekend.”

“Well, you still have me,” Junmyeon said with a bright smile.

Luhan glanced at him balefully. “Yay.”

-

“You are not helping,” Yixing told Jongdae, who was perched precariously on the edge of his couch overtop of a hunk of styrofoam, wielding an exacto knife.

“Babe,” Jongdae grunted haughtily, pulling himself awkwardly upward and readjusting his glasses that had slid down his nose, “Let me remind you that I’m the one-”

“-that took English 30 last year, I know. But I brought you over here to help me finish, not start an entirely new project, also I was going to save that styrofoam in case I ever need to repack the speakers-”

“Listen, this is going to be great,” Jongdae ignored him, and began to work the exacto knife down the middle of the styrofoam. “Dioramas. They’re always winners. Who likes boring Power Points? Nobody. I’m basically handing you the A here, you could at least be appreciative-yikes!” The block beneath him had suddenly split into two, toppling downwards from Jongdae’s flailing hands.

“Oh my god,” Yixing groaned. “I am not doing this right now. The project is due tomorrow, I’ve got three quarters of a presentation done and I promised Baekhyun I would finish it because he did like, all of it.” He raised his hands to his temples, still feeling the effects of last night’s fun. If Baekhyun could just pick up his damned phone-

“Look,” Jongdae insisted, way too perky for Yixing’s liking considering the amount of alcohol he had downed the night before, and held up the split pieces of styrofoam. “This will be the base, see? You get the construction paper, and I’ll start gluing, and then we can make little characters to stand up in it out of like, play-doh or something-”

“Jongdae!” Yixing stopped him, exasperated. “I am not making a diorama!”

Jongdae fell quiet. Yixing let out a loud exhale, and then reached for his phone in the silence, checking again if Baekhyun had texted him back yet (he hadn’t.)

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae chimed, his voice ringing sweetly. Yixing glanced up at his cute face begrudgingly, and gave another sigh. “Do you want me to get you some boba instead while you get this done?” Jongdae asked him, sounding genuinely sorry, and he padded over to Yixing to wrap his arms around his shoulders.

“I don’t know how to get this done,” Yixing grumbled, trying really hard to stay mad but not resisting when Jongdae slipped beneath his arm and snuggled into his chest.

“Wait for Baekhyun then,” Jongdae murmured, and then reached up for a kiss. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

I didn’t really bring you here to help me, Yixing thought truthfully, and dodged Jongdae’s pursed lips. “You were supposed to be my motivation to get this done,” he grumbled as his boyfriend curled up into his lap.

“Motivation? What do you mean?” Jongdae laughed in that sweet little voice of his. “Like if you got it done then we’d have time to make out afterward?” he added jokingly. When Yixing didn’t answer a sort of surprised look took over Jongdae’s voice and he laughed again. “That’s exactly what you mean, isn’t it?”

Again, Yixing didn’t answer. Instead he chose to lift his chin coyly, deciding that really, all promises aside, if this project didn’t get finished well then it was Baekhyun’s fault for not texting him back.

“Well why don’t I give you some inspiration?” Jongdae murmured, his voice going husky, and this time when he leaned in for a kiss Yixing gladly accepted.

-

Jongin arrived to English first period that morning fifteen minutes early, nervous as nervous could be. He should be used to it from dancing by now, the stage fright, but this was different. He hated public speaking. Minseok was supposed to meet him so that they could rehearse one last time, but the room was empty, save for Yixing at the back desk.

“Hey,” Jongin greeted him, grateful to at least have someone to keep his mind off his butterflies, and Yixing gave him a rueful glance in response.

“Baekhyun is going to kill me.”

Jongin laughed breathily and set his laptop down. “What did you do?”

“It’s more of what I didn’t do,” Yixing answered sheepishly, and Jongin stared at him, unimpressed.

“You didn’t finish the presentation, did you.”

“Nope,” Yixing said bluntly. “I told him to come early so that I could break the news…”

“What news?” came a cheerful voice, and then Baekhyun walked in, followed by Zitao and Kris.

Yixing got up from his seat hastily, straightening and taking a deep breath. “Well,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “My great, dear, dear, perfect, amazing friend Baekhyun, most honorable of all men, it is with my deepest regrets that I inform you-”

“-You’re ing kidding me, right?” Baekhyun cut him off, already guessing at the situation.

“You were the one who didn’t text me back,” Yixing protested guiltily, slinking back down into his seat, and Baekhyun just rolled his eyes.

“Well, we only have time for half the class to present today anyway. Let’s just go tomorrow.”

“There’s a list up for presentation order already,” Jongin informed him, and motioned to the piece of paper that had been taped up beside the teacher’s desk. He and Minseok were going third, which was fine by him. It was better to just get it over with. Baekhyun in a breath and scrambled up to scrutinize the piece of paper, Kris following suite.

“We’re eleventh,” Yixing told Baekhyun, hovering behind him. “Right after Zitao and Kris.”

“,” Kris said under his breath, mulling over their number ten placement. “We’re probably going today, then. There’re only twenty presentations.”

“Yixing and I might not be, though,” Baekhyun said hopefully.

“Only if the other presentations are slow,” Jongin reminded him. “The teacher’ll probably just try and get as many done as possible, though, so your odds aren’t very good....”

Baekhyun groaned.

“It’s okay,” Zitao comforted him, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. “Kris and I will take as long as possible, if you want. It won't be a problem. If I want the spotlight for longer, then-” here he paused for a dramatic hair toss and a raised sniff of his nose, “-I shall have the spotlight.”

“Taozi, our presentation ,” Kris said bluntly. “We literally have nothing.”

“We have me,” Zitao answered with a coquettish grin. He squeezed Baekhyun’s shoulder, who was still standing in front of the list nervously biting his lip.

“Great, you guys will make us look better,” Yixing said brightly, and gave Baekhyun a thumbs-up.

Baekhyun shook his head with a sigh. “Yixing, I love you,” he told him slowly, “But we need a plan here. There is no way we can present today.” He paused thoughtfully, pushing the others aside so he could observe the teacher’s desk as if hoping he might find something useful. HIs eyes swept critically over the desk and then he suddenly grinned. “Ah hah!” he announced, eyes lighting up.

“What is that,” Zitao was first to demand, and then took the object which Baekhyun had lifted from the desk into his lithe fingers. “A…remote?”

“Yup,” Baekhyun answered smugly.

“And what do you plan on doing with that?” Minseok called as he entered the room holding his presentation notes in one hand and a drink takeout holder with two cups of coffee in the other. Jongin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Minseok! Finally.”

“Sorry,” his partner told him apologetically, and handed him a coffee cup. “The line was longer than I expected, and then Luhan had this really specific order that took extra long- you know how he is about getting his coffee made by other people.”

“This could be our saving grace,” Baekhyun interrupted him, and snatched the remote back from Zitao. “I got a plan."

"What does that remote even do?" Jongin asked skeptically, sipping his coffee between two tense hands.

"You'll see," Baekhyun answered him loftily. "Kris, you guys don’t mind if we slow your presentation down a bit, right?”

“Not at all,” Kris admitted, looking relieved.

-

Kris walked nervously to the front of the room, Zitao on his tail. He could see him in his peripheral fluffing up his hair, and he felt a bloom of affection rise in his chest, which was quickly outweighed by a fresh wave of anxiety. The clock was ticking- ten minutes to the bell. If Baekhyun actually pulled this off (Kris had no idea what he was planning, but right now he needed to trust him), they might actually make it out without completely embarrassing themselves. They had about, well, five minutes of material, all of which was complete bull, and then after that he was at Baekhyun’s mercy. And it hadn’t helped that Minseok and Jongin, who had presented only just before, had been ridiculously good. 

“So, uh,” Kris started after he and Zitao had opened up their power point on the teacher’s laptop screen, which was projected onto the smart board that they now stood on opposite sides of. “Macbeth. By Kris.”

“And Zitao,” his partner added, giving a gracious smile.

“Right,” Kris nodded awkwardly, and then moved on to the next slide.

To his credit, Zitao could actually speak very well when he wanted to. He was, admittedly, a tad dramatic, but Kris figured this actually worked in their favour since he was taking up so much time with hand gestures and intense pauses.

"So, like honestly, this was very triggering for me," Zitao was saying, about a minute into their presentation (Kris had no idea what he was going on about, but he figured the more time wasted the better), and then suddenly the smart board out. For a moment there was a murmur of confusion. Kris and Zitao exchanged twin confused looks, unsure how to proceed. Then suddenly the smartboard lit up again, playing a video of two attractive k-drama actors making out.

Zitao snorted loudly and then immediately began to giggle, but in a snarky sort of way, one perfect hand covering his parted lips in an attempt to hide the sound. The teacher rose from his desk, blushing and spluttering furiously. The class sat in momentary stunned silence, too confused to be amused, and the teacher quickly closed the window on his laptop just as the giggles began to start.

Kris glanced at Baekhyun out of the corner of his eye, who was looking on with a blank expression, and then slowly resumed talking.

"So as Zitao was saying...uh...this was...triggering...?"

But not a minute later-

"Babe, please...!" It was the video again. This time a little more advanced into the scene, the speakers playing at full blast, the actors both groaning like low-paid stars.

This time Zitao didn’t even try to be sneaky, he burst into full out laughter, and Kris couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug into a grin when the teacher let out a screech of indignation and slammed the laptop shut.

“My apologies,” he sputtered, and took a breath before opening the computer once more and closing the window. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

It took another minute or two for the rest of the class to settle down. Even Minseok, who was leaning back with his hands behind his head, looked amused. Only Baekhyun was sitting straight, still with a nonchalant expression, his hands in his lap.

Zitao, who had set his laughter back into a straight face, continued in complete seriousness. His voice fell into a flat monotone, as if by showing even the slightest bit of emotion he might result in bursting into giggles again. Yet, thirty seconds later- 

"More, oh god, I loveeee youuuuu~!!" 

The class rioted. 

“That’s it!” the teacher shouted, now red in the face. “One of you connected to the bluetooth, right? Make it stop!”

The students immediately fell silent.

“How are you doing this?” the teacher demanded, now practically screeching. He glanced around, searching for a solution, and then a thought lit up his eyes and his face scrunched in crazed anger. “It must be one of those fancy i-watches, or apple-watches or whatever, right? Those new, fancy, bastard things.” He nodded to himself, completely convinced that this was the answer, scrambled to his desk in frenzy, and emptied his pencil holder, holding the container out to the class. “All of you! Put your watches in here!” He was met with more silence. “Did you not hear me?” the teacher growled, advancing towards the first row. “Watches in here! Now!”

“Um?” Zitao was the first to brazenly break the silence, and gave the teacher a pointed, disbelieving stare from underneath his fiercly winged eyes. “I'm sorry, but...this cost like, five hundred dollars? I’m not putting it in there.”

“Yes, you are,” the teacher hissed, and stamped his foot violently against the floor, shaking the desks with its force. Someone's binder crashed to the ground, and Zitao let out a yelp, jumping back slightly. “Watch. In here. Right now.”

It probably took another two minutes or so for him to walk around the room and gather everyone's watch from the disgruntled students, and Kris checked the clock fervently. One minute to the bell.  yes.

“So,” Kris cleared his throat once the teacher had sat back down, fuming, his hands hovering protectively over the small container of watches in his lap. “As we were saying-”

“I just can't get enough!” the screen interrupted him. The video was back on again in full, flippant blast, and then the class was howling with laughter and the teacher was screaming incredulously with anger. For a moment he stood up to close the video but then glanced at the mirthful laughing students, gave a wail of resignation and instead sat back down at his desk, head in his arms. There was about thirty seconds of utter chaos before the bell finally rang. Kris and Zitao were out of there in a heartbeat, halfway down the hall before it had even finished ringing.

“Holy !” Yixing exclaimed happily once he, Baekhyun, Minseok and Jongin had joined Kris and Zitao by the stairs. “That was ing awesome!”

Baekhyun smirked, then pulled the remote from his pocket. "Wireless remote for the smartboard, motherers."

“What are you going to do with it?” Jongin inquired doubtfully.

Baekhyun smiled haughtily, and then wound his arm back in a baseball pitch to huck the remote dramatically down the hall. “Don’t want to be caught with the evidence,” he nodded knowingly to the rest of them after they had heard the small clink of the remote against the ground, and grinned cockily.

“My waaatch,” Zitao wailed from beside him, looking forlornly back at the English room.

“No worries,” Baekhyun answered him smoothly, and revealed the pencil holder filled with watches from behind his back. “Nabbed it while the teacher was having a breakdown.”

There was a moment of silence as the rest of the group took this in. Jongin and Minseok stared at him in utter respect. Kris gave a slow clap. “Can’t say I’m not impressed.”

“Honestly, he did most of the work for me,” Baekhyun sniffed, referring to the teacher. “He already had that video up in another window,” he explained further as they passed around the watch container. “I just kept pressing play.”

“Well, you guys better make it worth it,” Minseok said practically after retrieving his watch. “Finish your presentations tonight or you’re doomed.”

“Yeah,” Jongin agreed with a grin. “Nothing to save you now.”

“I could just do that again,” Baekhyun said indignantly. “For like, the whole class.”

“No,” Minseok pointed out. “You threw the remote away.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun said, the cocky grin falling from his face. “Oh. Right. .” He then grabbed Yixing’s arm, eliciting a surprised squeak from the latter. “Alright buddy, let’s get a move on.”

A/N: Back babies! I know this ends super awkwardly but I'm having major writer's block, sorry. But thank you for reading, I love you all so much <3