Author: were1993
Word count: 14257
Rating: PG-13
Warning: un-beta’ed
Summary: "Well, I guess you can say I broke your landing." Sauna owner Park Chanyeol was all smiles for having a broken femur. Feeling guilty, escaped convict Kris Wu offers to help out until Chanyeol's leg heals.
Note: This story was written before and after a very stressful period of time. So there are slight inconsistencies in the writing style and maybe characterization, but I did try my best to look all of that over before submitting. Thank you guys!

Word prompts (5): Pain, Passport, Sauna, Loan, Convict

 

---

 

 

“Oh, dude, we’re chill!”

 

Wu Yifan looks at the man with a raised eyebrow, a stream of sweat trickles down at the action.

 

“Or—er, we’re hot?”

 

It was true. They were more or less sweltering in the large wooden room. As a sauna, it carried out its function beautifully. In fact, it would have been strange for room to be cold if not for the large gaping hole on the ceiling in the middle of a freezing December night.

 

Just a moment ago, Yifan had been flying through the icy air, extremities on the verge of frostbite. A lapse of judgment caused his course to go haywire, and he crashed through the roof of the sauna. It was a miracle Yifan hadn’t broken anything, but the unsuspecting owner of this establishment hadn’t had it so lucky.

 

Park Chanyeol—he learns as the proud owner of the “most popular sauna resort” in the country—was sitting on the wooden planks with his leg in a make shift splint. The red haired man was all smiles for having a broken femur. The way he maneuvered himself and set the splint using the broken ceiling planks made Yifan wonder whether this occurred often.

 

“But no seriously man,” Chanyeol laughs. “I’m really okay. You just caught me off guard that’s all!”

 

“I broke your leg,” Yifan states. He’s starting to feel dizzy with the humid heat, but the guilt was ice cold in his gut.

 

“Well, I guess you can say I broke your landing,” Chanyeol shrugs. “Glad you’re okay. If you had fallen head first, you’d have a broken skull. Much harder to fix than this!”

 

“I broke your leg,” Yifan repeats very slowly. He’s not sure whether it’s due to the disbelief of this must-be alien or whether the dehydration was finally catching up to him. Yifan was perspiring buckets and it didn’t seem like the room was getting any cooler. It was strange to look up and see the dark winter night and feel his skin slick with sweat.

 

“Eh, I have a friend who can fix it,” Chanyeol explains. “He’ll be running over in a bit. Probably.”

 

There was a pregnant pause.

 

“Hopefully.”

 

“Should I go get him?” Yifan offers. He would do anything to get out of this heat, but he doesn’t want to leave the man with a broken leg here all alone. That would be terrible. Breaking the poor guy’s leg and then running off. As though Yifan wasn’t terrible enough. Flying was a tricky thing. Ice cream would melt. He’s melting.

 

“Park Chan—oh my god, what happened?”

 

“Ah! Lay-hyung!” Chanyeol greets the newcomer with the excitement of a child at Christmas.

 

Yifan turns only to see a dark outline of a man, dark hair and dressed appropriately for the winter with a sweater and scarf. Oh, was his hair during blonde or was that just—

 

“Holy , dude are you okay?!”

 

Yifan sees the words on Chanyeol’s lips before he hears it. Not that it would have mattered because it wasn’t a moment later that he collapses onto Chanyeol’s good leg in a dead faint.

 

The last thing he registered was how uncomfortably hot the sauna owner was, but his strength had left him. All he could do was surrender to the blinding darkness.

 

---

 

“What can you give me in return?”

 

Yifan first notices his eyes. Murky but sharp, and they cut into him like everyone had warned. Those eyes would cut into your soul, they had said. He sees everything time touches, and time is everywhere.

 

“I can send you anywhere you want,” he says. It’s quiet, but the world is even quieter. It was as though time itself stopped to listen. “I can give you access to any plane of time you wish, but what’s in it for me?”

 

Yifan then notices his hands. Long and calloused, curled around a wooden staff. They tap against the wood languidly, waiting. Yifan swallows. Those hands have ended men much greater and more powerful than Wu Yifan. After all, no one ever defeats time.

 

“What do you want?” Yifan croaks out.

 

He laughs. It’s light and airy. So very different from the harsh planes of his face and darkness underneath his eyes. When he laughs, Huang Zitao looks human and maybe he had been—years, centuries, eons ago.  

 

“What do you think someone who controls time would want?” Zitao asks. The sound he makes is more or less a giggle, and Yifan doesn’t know how to react.

 

“I don’t know,” Yifan answers honestly. Apparently that had been the right thing to say. Zitao’s expression stays bright as though there’s an inside joke that Yifan was unaware of.

 

“To humans, time is linear” Zitao begins. His voice was now louder and time was moving forward again. “Something you can only go forward in, but never back and never side to side.  However, that’s not true for me.”

 

Zitao smiles like a lazy cat. His eyes were still centuries old, but that smile was childlike. Yifan would be lying to say he wasn’t enchanted.

 

“Time is almost like currency,” Zitao continues. He begins tossing the wooden staff into the air and catching it lightly in the palm of his hand. “I use it to bargain with the rest of the Big Three. There is only so much I can do with time before I need space and gravity.”

 

Yifan stiffens at the mention. The Big Three, the Trinity, the Triforce, the Three Corners of the Universe—there were many names to call them. The three great sect of power users: Time, Space and Gravity. Unlike most physical and elemental powers, these power users were not bound to the laws of any universe. Only to their own limitations.

 

“So what do you think I want?” Huang Zitao, the most feared time manipulator of their universe, asks.

 

“Time,” Yifan whispers. He doesn’t know how much time the manipulator will want, but if he doesn’t leave, he won’t have much time left anyways.

 

“Yes, I want your time,” Zitao smiles. He throws his wooden staff far into the air. It suspends above them, still and waiting. Yifan’s eyes are torn away from the hovering object when Zitao waves something. In his hand, a small booklet, maybe just a couple pages, but Yifan recognizes it immediately. “Very good, so you know what this is.”

 

Yifan nods.

 

“I heard mortals in this world called it the ‘passport to the universe’ or something fancy like that,” Zitao giggles. He opens the booklet, inspecting the scribbled pages. “Here you have a little bit of time, space and gravity. Basically a one-way ticket to anywhere in the universe. Maybe it’ll have enough power for a second trip if you’re lucky.”

 

Yifan nods again. Yes. That is why he came here.

 

“Twenty years of your time and this is yours,” Zitao smiles like a cat that got the cream. It’s almost too smug as though there was a secret only the time manipulator was in on. “No strings attached. I just want twenty years.”

 

“Okay,” Yifan breathes out. He’s willing to gamble that he has more than twenty years on his life, but if he stayed here, he would be lucky to live for another five.

 

“Deal,” Zitao smiles, wide and almost malicious.

 

He throws the tiny booklet at Yifan who barely catches it. Zitao points dramatically at the wooden staff hanging in the air, and a glowing ring of light surrounds it. Yifan stares into what was the largest clock surface he’s ever seen. The staff poised like the hour hand was moving, spinning around and around and around and—

 

“What do you mean you can’t fix it?”

 

Yifan jolts up as the loud scream pierced through his sleep.

 

“It’s exactly what I mean,” a calmer voice says. “I can’t heal injuries caused by certain powers.”

 

“He crashed through the roof and onto me!  My leg broke because of the impact! How is that caused by ‘certain powers’ because I thought that meant the Triforce. Last time I checked, flight was not part of the Big Three—”

 

Yifan was still rather disoriented, but the telltale stirrings of guilt bubbled in his chest. While his power might not have been one of the Big Three, he had just travelled to this universe using the powers of the Big Three. It wasn’t hard to put one and one together.

 

“Well, I don’t know!” the calmer voice was starting to become more and more agitated. “I can’t heal it.”

 

“What use are you here then!?”

 

Yifan finally recognizes the voice. Chen-er, Chan-something, the guy who’s leg he broke, was swearing at the calmer-now-not-so-calm voice. There was more yelling before a door slammed and everything was quiet other than the dragging sounds of footsteps.  

 

It was rather dark where Yifan was lying. The sheets were rough but warm underneath his fingertips, and everything smelled like some kind of wood. It looked like some kind of resting room of some sort, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. He slowly got up and fumbled for the door. Yifan opened up the door to a very surprised Chan-something.

 

“Woah! You’re awake!” Chan-something smiled, full of teeth. He shoves a cup of water into Yifan’s chest. The action causes the other man to wobble a bit on his crutches, but he stabilizes himself rather quickly. “Here, drink some! You passed out because of the heat. Not that I blame you, it was getting pretty warm in there. Not that I could feel it though, but I imagine it wasn’t too comfortable for you.”

 

Yifan tries to follow the words, but he’s still too groggy to keep up. He nods as pieces of information floats in one ear and out the other. Yifan grips the cup with shaky hands and brings the liquid up to his lips. It’s lukewarm but still refreshing.

 

“Sorry about that, when I’m injured, my powers just kind of go haywire,” Chanyeol—right! That was his name—continued rambling. Yifan didn’t really get a good look at the red haired man beforehand so he just silently observes. Tall, probably taller if it weren’t for the crutches, animated, bright eyes, blood red hair, blinding white teeth, smiles and ears. “I think it’s something like it doesn’t want me to feel pain, which I don’t by the way, so if you were freaked out about why I was so chill, there you go.”

 

The entire time Chanyeol is leaning further and further backwards. Yifan wonders if he should mention anything, but Chanyeol keeps talking, “So everything around me gets super hot and I pretty much can burn anything I touch. Which is why I’m glad I was wearing long pants back there because I could have totally burned you badly.”

 

Chanyeol was balances quite precariously on the balls of his heels and still going back. One of the crutches slip, and just on pure instinct, Yifan reaches out. He wasn’t ready for the loud NO and the sudden movement that really did send Chanyeol clattering to the floor.

 

From the nonstop chatter, everything was now silent.

 

Yifan stares down at the fallen man in confusion. Chanyeol looks up at him with wide eyed fear? Apprehension? Relief?, chest heaving with stuttering breaths. Chanyeol looks down and takes a couple of deep breaths. When he looks back up at Yifan, Chanyeol is smiling again.

 

“You…don’t want to do that,” Chanyeol says slowly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. “My powers go haywire when I’m injured and Lay-hyung wasn’t able to heal me so. Well, let’s just say touching me right now would burn your entire hand off.”

 

Chanyeol looks down again and Yifan finally processes the situation.

 

“I’m sorry,” Yifan blurted out. He didn’t know what else to say. He literally dropped out of the sky, broke this poor man’s leg and threw this guy’s powers off kilter.

 

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to take a head dive out of the air,” Chanyeol laughs. This smile was much more genuine and Yifan would be lying if his breath didn’t catch.

 

“Can…can you still control your powers otherwise?” Yifan asks. He clenches the water cup a little harder. Guilt was an awful thing.

 

“I haven’t tried to be honest,” Chanyeol shrugs. He pats the floor next to him in an open invitation. Yifan gingerly gets down next to the injured man, careful not to accidentally bump into him. “I stored enough power to keep the sauna running for at least the next couple weeks, but I don’t know whether I could keep the temperature regulated correctly.”

 

“Wait, you what?” Yifan blinks. “Your powers run this sauna?”

 

“Park Chanyeol, fire power extraordinaire!” Chanyeol introduces himself with a flourish of a hand. Yifan dodged the flung arm by a hairs width, and the heat radiating from just that passing stung like hot iron. “I run the best saunas in this entire country. Each room regulated and personalized by yours truly. As long as I’m breathing, this place is open for business. Completely environmental friendly as the only source of power is me!”

 

“But if you can’t control your powers…” Yifan trails off. The guilt tasting more and more bitter. He takes a swig of water, but it burns going down.

 

“Eh, I store energy here and there just in case I’m out of commission like this,” Chanyeol sighs. He taps the cast on his broken leg sadly. “Although this is the first time I’ll be out for more than a couple hours and that I can’t move around freely.”

 

Yifan closes his eyes and weighs his options. He’s definitely not far away enough from his home universe to be safe, but he might be far away enough to avoid detection for a little while. He was the one who lost control of his own powers and crashed into Park Chanyeol, breaking his leg and causing all of this disturbance. He broke the other man’s leg. He threw the other man’s power off when that was his way of making a living.

 

Yes, he feared the chains of the Capitol, but he was even more fearful of his own conscious.

 

“Can I help?”

 

“Hm?” Chanyeol turns to him with pursed lips.

 

“I mean,” Yifan begins. He starts off looking Chanyeol straight in the eyes, but those curious large eyes were just staring too intently back. So he looks down at his own crossed legs.  “I’m the reason you can’t move around freely and that you can’t really control your powers. So, I would be willing to stick around and help you out until you get better.”

 

Yifan trails off towards the end hesitantly. He starts running a hand through his hair nervously out of habit, even if there wasn’t much left of it. That’s what they did to convicts, reducing anything defining and personal until all that was left was a carbon shell with a number.  And he has one of those too, a number, a code—

 

“That would be wonderful!”

 

Yifan is shaken out of his reverie from Chanyeol’s sudden exclamation. He turns toward the red hair man only to see the largest set of grateful teary eyes that have ever been directed at him. Yifan has always been a er for beautiful smiles, but he wasn’t ready for how Chanyeol’s earsplitting smile made his heart race.

 

“It’ll be at least six weeks according to Lay-hyung, but that’ll go by real fast!” Chanyeol blabbers. “If you could just help me check the temperatures of the rooms every four hours or so and just make sure that the power storage has enough juice to keep it running and oh, do you think you can work at the front? My receptionist is on a long vacation, but you’ll meet Beakhyunnie soon enough, and—”

 

Yifan isn’t really following what Chanyeol is saying, but he feels the enthusiasm bleed into him. He’s never worked in a sauna or any kind of service establishment like this before so he has his own fair shares of worries. However, a tiny part of him whispered: If I get to spend it with someone like him, it can’t be too bad.

 

“Oh, sorry, I totally got ahead of myself,” Chanyeol laughs. “What’s your name?”

 

Yifan pauses and thinks about Wu Yifan, the convict, the runaway, the past. He looks at Chanyeol and thinks about a future.

 

“Kris,” Yifan says, thinking of his home and his mother. “Kris Wu.”

 

---

 

“You are really bad at this,” Byun Baekhyun observes. He’s sitting at the reception desk and watching Kris attempt to hover. “For a flyer, you really can’t fly.”

 

“I got my powers late okay,” Kris scowls. In order to learn how to control his powers, Kris had an hour of practice time every day. Something Chanyeol was adamant that Kris keep up.

 

“Yeah, but it’s been like more than a month since you started this,” Baekhyun says. He peers over the table to stare at Kris’ fallen figure. The taller man had given up, lying on his back and staring listlessly at the ceiling. “Lay-hyung literally gave you the child’s edition of power control. That man’s been teaching kids for the past six years, and he’s never had someone who didn’t learn control in a month until you.”

 

“Well, I’m a sad adult,” Kris mumbles, closing his eyes. He wasn’t too sure why he couldn’t control his powers either. Flight was not the hardest power to get a hold of. Hell, there were kids in this town who zipped back and forth in the air. Lay said it might have been something to do with him being such a late bloomer. Baekhyun seemed to be convinced he wasn’t a flyer at all.

 

“I’m telling you,” Baekhyun insists. Kris groans immediately. He knows where this is going and no. “You aren’t a flyer! I’m pretty sure your powers have something to do with like magnetism or wind or something like that.”

 

“Sehun said I wasn’t a wind controller,” Kris fires back. “Chen said my powers had nothing to do with electricity.”

 

“And I’m pretty sure you’re not a flyer,” Baekhyun responds stubbornly. “Screw what Sehun said, that kid doesn’t know anything.”

 

“Excuse you,” said wind controller scoffed. Walking into the reception room, Oh Sehun looked exasperated and offended. Behind him, Kim Jongin looked just as sleepy as he did when he got off his graveyard shift earlier that day. “I don’t even know what you were talking about, but excuse you. And Kris-hyung, what are you doing on the floor?”

 

“Probably gave up on practice time again,” Jongin yawned, stretching out his arms. He ended his stretch routine with an even larger yawn.

 

“Woah, neither of you are late,” Baekhyun blinks.

 

“Miracles do happen,” Kris shrugs from the floor.

 

“Yeah, miracles really do fall out of the sky,” Baekhyun sniggers. Kris sits up and gives Baekhyun a pointed look, but the younger man doesn’t even notice, too busy snickering behind his hand.

 

It has been almost a week since Chanyeol had made a loud announcement in the middle of the staff room that Kris was a miracle—‘my miracle’, Baekhyun corrects—because Kris put together their finances in a coherent manner. Since then, Baekhyun has not shut up about it.

 

“Ha ha, very funny,” Kris scoffs, glaring at Baekhyun who was now doubled over.  

 

“What? The fact that Chanyeol-hyung is crushing on you so hard it’s embarrassing to watch? Or the fact you’re either denser than Jongin or in denial?” Sehun quips. This sets Baekhyun into a louder fit of laughter. Kris can only be satisfied with the loud thud as Beakhyun falls off his chair and onto the floor.

 

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Jongin grumbles and shoves Sehun. The other man merely regains his balance and smiles sweetly. Jongin scowls and punches Sehun in the arm, but there no power or malice behind the action.

 

“What are you guys doing loitering here?” Chanyeol asks, popping his head through the doorway curtains. He hobbles his way into the front lobby on his crutches. Kris is off the floor in an instance and steadying the red haired man’s steps. “Thanks Kris-hyung.”

 

Behind Chanyeol, Baekhyun is miming Thanks Kris-hyung while exaggeratedly fluttering his eyes and scrunching up his shoulder cutely. Kris glares with his eyebrows furrowed, but none of that seems to intimidate Baekhyun anymore. Actually, he doesn’t seem to intimidate any of the staff anymore much to his chagrin. Back in the day, he had been the most intimidating manager of his sector. Someone that no one wanted to cross even on a good day.

 

“Hyung, have you actually been practicing?” Chanyeol pouts. Kris is way too close to comfortably look at Chanyeol when he’s making that face.

 

“He has been,” Baekhyun pips in. Even though the shorter man seems to find glee in throwing Kris under the bus for everything else, he actively helps Kris get out of practice time. “He’s just a horrible flyer. One of the worst.”

 

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol reassures. His hand finds Kris’s upper arm and squeezes. “You’ll get a hang of it. It might just mean your powers are just so much stronger than everyone else’s! You might be able to fly out into space!”

 

“Yeah, and die of the lack of oxygen,” Sehun mumbles loudly. He slings an arm over Jongin’s shoulder and leads them towards the staff room. “Alright, let’s get to work before I feel too nauseated and have to take a day off.”

 

“I’m not flirting!” Chanyeol whines at the younger man.

 

“Flirting? What flirting?” Sehun smirks. He manhandles Jongin in between Kris and Chanyeol, forcing the two apart, and continues on. “I just ate something bad I think.”

 

“Oh Sehun,” Chanyeol yells after them. There is no response but the sound of a door opening and closing.

 

“Well then,” Baekhyun hums. He stands up and begins walking in the same direction as the other two. “I’m just going to leave so you can, ah, continue not flirting.”

 

Chanyeol makes some sort of unintelligible noise at the back of his throat, unable to even get the words out. Kris listens for the telltale sound of the staff room door opening and closing. Now they were alone.

 

“Sorry,” Kris starts, running a hand through his growing hair. “It was a slow day so I decided to practice out here for some company. That’s the only thing Baekhyun is good at because we both know he’s a ty receptionist.”

 

That usually got a few laughs from the red haired man both because Baekhyun was one of Chanyeol’s best friends and because Baekhyun was probably the best receptionist ever. But today, Chanyeol chuckles weakly and avoids Kris’ eyes.

 

“The regulars know you so I doubt they’d really care,” Chanyeol shrugs. For someone who was so animated most of the time, Chanyeol looked out of place with his forced nonchalance.

 

“You know that I don’t mind them right?” Kris asks quietly. “I don’t mind their teasing. It’s annoying but it honestly doesn’t bother me.”

 

This gets Chanyeol’s attention.

 

“What about me?” Chanyeol asks gently. Kris his lips. He’s noticed that whenever Chanyeol spoke quietly his voice always dropped to a lower tone, and it sends shivers down his spine every time. “Do you mind that…I am flirting with you?”

 

Kris opens his mouth—no, I don’t mind, I think I might like to flirt with you too was at the tip of his tongue, but Yifan thinks of the Capitol, his home, his mother, his crime. And he closes his mouth. Chanyeol doesn’t deserve to get caught up in all of that.

 

He fights to stay silent, even as he watches Chanyeol’s hopeful expression fall with each passing second.

 

Finally, Chanyeol laughs. It’s strained but he powers through it.

 

“Sorry,” Chanyeol chokes. He talks louder to compensate for his shaking voice. “I just made it awkward huh? Don’t worry about it, hyung. My leg’s almost healed and you’ll be heading off soon right? Don’t worry, it really didn’t mean anything.”

 

Kris doesn’t do anything as Chanyeol fumbles on his crutches down the hall. He wasn’t headed towards the staff room or any of the sauna rooms. Kris watches as Chanyeol races into the boiler room which powered the entire sauna. Also, the only place Chanyeol goes when he’s upset, the only place that can handle an upset Chanyeol.

 

Later, Kris can only pretend to be clueless when Sehun complains about the temperature increase throughout the entire establishment.

 

---

 

There are only two doctors in town: Lay who deals with physical ailments—his powers allow him to mend anything organic whether it be human or not, and Suho who deals with everything else.

 

No one is too sure what Suho’s power is. On the surface, he’s a water user. He can take any moisture in the air and move it in any way he wants. However, all those who’ve sought him out know that Suho does something more. Chanyeol tried to explain it to Kris once:

 

“It’s like he uses water as a surface to look into your soul. He can just tell what’s wrong. It’s something that has to do with water being able to show the clarity of the mind and soul or something—yah, hyung, just go ask Suho yourself!”

 

Kris has meet the other doctor here and there, but he’s never gone to Suho for any of his mind healing or whatever the townspeople called it. He had always figured it was a glorified counseling session and that Suho was just very talented at reading people. Even with his skepticism, Kris could not deny that Suho exuded an aura of trustworthiness. His smile just seems to say, I’ll keep your deepest, darkest secrets, promise.

 

He wasn’t too surprised when that day, Suho swept into the sauna and headed straight to the boiler room. Still, it had twisted his stomach to think he upset Chanyeol enough to needed Suho’s help. Kris busied himself with work—he had become their unofficial records keeper and accountant, and didn’t even notice that Suho had left. Chanyeol had come out of the boiler room looking much brighter than before, and it had felt like everything went back to normal.

 

But Kris knew it hadn’t.

 

Today, Chanyeol greeted him the same but refused his help. Something Chanyeol never did. Chanyeol found every reason to stick to Kris’ side, and most of those reasons revolved around his healing leg. But today, Chanyeol insisted he got it. Kris really didn’t know what to feel when Chanyeol hobbled away to complete his own tasks. He tried to convince himself that this was normal. Chanyeol was getting better. He didn’t need his help. This was a natural progression.

 

For the rest of the day, Kris tried not to miss the longing gazes and fond smiles. He didn’t want to look up from his books because there would be no surprised Chanyeol, embarrassed he got caught staring. He didn’t even want to each lunch with the rest of the staff because there probably would be no giggly Chanyeol who tried to steal food from Kris’ standard staff issued lunchbox. Kris didn’t want to practice his flight control but he would because, well, Chanyeol really wanted him to.

 

“What did you do?” Baekhyun hisses, shoving Kris into the empty staff room. Kris didn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned that the smaller man was much stronger than he expected. “I’ve known Chanyeol for years and I’ve never seen him depressed to the point he couldn’t conjure a fire! He can feel pain now!”

 

“He what?” Kris mumbles. He blinks rapidly, processing the information. Elemental users were known to lose their powers completely in times of great distress or grief. Kris remembers when his mother lost her light. His father had just been executed and Kris had been too young to really understand. All of a sudden, Kris found it difficult to breath. “He likes me.”

 

“You dip,” Baekhyun breathes. His fists are clenched at his sides. It’s obvious the smaller man is holding back a punch. “Chanyeol loves you. I don’t know how he ing fell in love in a month but he did. I was so sure you at least liked him, but I guess I was off. Now I just want to know what the you did.”

 

“I—I can’t, we can’t be,” Kris stutters. He really tries not to think of the Capitol, but everything flood into his mind at once. His crime, his crime, his mother, his crime, his number, his sentence, if I get to spend it with, his crime, someone like him, his crime, Chanyeol, a criminal. “We can never be.”

 

Baekhyun was glistening with liquid light. Chanyeol had warned him of this. When his eyes disappeared into orbs of light, the light user was mad, furious even. Right now, Baekhyun’s eyes were exploding stars, light pouring out of the sockets.

 

“Just tell me,” Baekhyun says quietly. He closes his eyes, and it barely blocks the blinding lights behind his eyelids. “Do you like Chanyeol or not?”

 

Kris chokes on absolutely nothing. He likes Chanyeol. He really does. He really really likes Chanyeol. There was just something about the red haired man that was just so endearing—maybe it was because their personalities matched, maybe it was because Chanyeol brought out the child in Kris, maybe it was because Chanyeol embraced everything, even when bits and pieces of Yifan came to the surface. From strangers to friends to someone who made the colors in the world brighter.

 

Chanyeol painted over the grey and blacks in Yifan’s mind. Now, Kris saw so much more in the world. He saw a future. And in his dreams, he saw a future here at the sauna, here in this town, here with Chanyeol.

 

“Then why?” Baekhyun growls. Kris hadn’t even said anything, but for Baekhyun, the look on Kris’ face said everything he needed to know.

 

“They’d never let me go,” Yifan blurted out before he could stop himself. Kris hated how scared and small he sounded. He was still so fearful of the Capitol. “I’m a wanted man. They’ll stop at nothing to see me dead.”

 

Kris blinks and Baekhyun’s eyes were dark again. They were furrowed with concern and his lips pressed in a thin line. Kris has never seen Baekhyun so still and quiet. It’s unsettling.

 

“You know he wouldn’t care,” Baekhyun finally says.

 

“But I do,” Kris breathes. “He deserves so much better.”

 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and Kris feels all the tension leave his shoulders. This was the Baekhyun he was familiar with. This meant they were okay.

 

“You two deserve each other,” Baekhyun says. His tone is light but serious. “Kris-hyung, go see Suho-hyung okay? Preferably soon.”

 

“I don’t need a shrink—”

 

“Suho-hyung isn’t a shrink,” Baekhyun states. He stares Kris down in a way that makes the taller man tense up again. “He can help. I think, he’s the only one who can help.”

 

Baekhyun walks forward and places a comforting hand on Kris’ arm. His eyes were soft again and lips curled into that typical Baekhyun smile. Baekhyun squeezes Kris’ arm briefly before thumping him hard on the back. The smaller man laughs loudly and obnoxiously like there’s some inside joke. Maybe there was. Either way, Baekhyun walked out of the staff room chuckling, leaving Kris in the dark.

 

He hadn’t even realized that the staff room’s lights were off. Byun Baekhyun was not a light user to be taken lightly, Kris notes. He takes a shaky breath. Maybe he shouldn’t take Suho so lightly either.

 

By the time he’s run into the table at least twice, Kris decided he was going to see Suho.

 

---

 

Suho and Lay co-inhabited the upstairs apartment of their medical clinic. The large clinic had a surprisingly small staff, but no one took care of people as quickly as Lay. So their tiny medical team consisted of Lay and his assistant, an earth user by the name of D.O.; Suho and his assistant, a quiet but very strong man called Xiumin; and their talkative receptionist, Chen.

 

“Tripped over nothing again, Kris-hyung?” Chen greets as Kris walks in. The fifteen minute walk from the sauna froze every part of him exposed to the frigid air. Usually, he would try to talk over Chen and cut straight to the chase, but his lips were still numb. “Or did you fail to hover correctly and fall on your head again?”

 

“Charming as usual,” Kris mutters under his breath. In the empty reception room, Chen picks up on it just fine and that smile just got wider.

 

“Or are you not here to see Lay-hyung, but rather,” Chen pauses dramatically. He smiles like the cat that caught the canary. “But rather Suho-hyung, hm? About the owner of a particular sauna?”

 

“What do you guys do here?” Kris scowls. “Gossip all day?”

 

“You forget I’m friends with Baekhyun and Chanyeol,” Chen laughs. “In fact, after our last exchange, I’m surprised you’re alive. I thought Baekhyun was going to blind you for life.”

 

“Yes, I thought so too,” Kris snaps. He’s already agitated to be here, and while he usually enjoys bantering with Chen, he really just wants to get in and out quickly. “Well, yes, I am here to see Suho. Is he available?”

 

“He’s waiting for you.”

 

Kris stares at the newcomer in shock. He’s probably seen Xiumin more than Suho at the sauna, but he’s never heard the man talk. Ever.

 

Xiumin is soft spoken, but there’s nothing shy about the way he held himself. He’s confident and sure, staring straight at Kris with a steady gaze. He’s smiling but Kris feels something frigid about the man. Maybe it was those frosted eyes or the stiff shoulders or maybe all ice specialists were like their powers. Xiumin smiles and beckons him over towards the left of Chen’s receptionist desk.

 

Kris had always gone down the right hallway. It was a stark, sterile looking passage that goes to Lay’s office. The walls were a blinding white, and the entire area smelled of antiseptics. It was clearly a clinic, and Kris has been in there more than he would like to admit. But the left hallway looked more like the entrance to someone’s home.

 

Kris follows Xiumin down the beige hallway. It smelled like some sort of scented candle—maybe pine or sand wood or apple pie—and the longer he walked down the corridor, the more homely items he saw. A cabinet with little trinkets and toys, a coat hanger with some worn hats, and here was a couple picture frames. He sees one with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, another one with all the hospital staff, and he even sees one with him.

 

Kris pauses in front of the picture. It looked like he belonged, in the picture and on this wall with all the other pictures of the townspeople. Yifan never felt like he belonged at the Capitol, and he had tried so hard. He became a Capitol man, someone at the peak of success and respect. Yet, it all came crashing down because he just didn’t belong. He didn’t know how much he wanted that—to belong, until now. Seeing his picture amongst all the rest. His belonging here, in this town, with Chanyeol.

 

“Kris?” Xiumin’s voice snaps him out of his reverie.

 

The taller man had been so preoccupied with the picture that he didn’t realize that they were already at the end of the hallway. Under the warm glow from an overhead light, the door looked like any other door in someone’s house. Nothing about it looked like any kind of clinic or facility.

 

“Suho’s waiting for you,” Xiumin says with an amused smile. He tips his head toward the door.

 

“Okay,” Kris responds. He’s not too sure what else to say.

 

“Don’t be nervous,” Xiumin chuckles. It’s warm and homely. “Suho only tells you what you need to know. He’s not the type to pry.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Kris smiles wryly. He reaches out and twists the brass doorknob. The door opens without any resistance. He turns to say farewell or something to Xiumin, but the other man is gone. Kris blinks. There was only one door at the end of the hallway and no windows anywhere.

 

The light above him flickers and Kris takes it as a cue to enter the room. He’s not sure what he’s expecting with Xiumin’s sudden disappearance—maybe some kind of deranged counseling room, crazy fortune teller’s tent, but instead, he finds Suho sitting at a little table in a kitchen. There is a stove to the right, a refrigerated besides it and a pantry a little further down.  

 

The water user looks up and smiles brightly, “I was waiting for you.”

 

“Good to know,” Kris greets back. He tries to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, but it comes out more obviously than he would have liked. “Not creepy at all.”

 

Suho’s smile falters a little and Kris feels all sorts of guilt.

 

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t necessary of me,” Kris amends. He really is. Suho was a nice guy, and he couldn’t barge in asking for help only to be rude.

 

“It’s okay Yifan,” Suho sighs. “The Capitol doesn’t really acknowledge my kind so I’m not really surprised. Just a little taken aback.”  

 

Kris gapes at the sitting man in horror. How? Every fiber of his body was telling him to run, escape, get out of this pleasant little town. If one person knew, then the Capitol must know. All he could hear was the loud beating of his frantic heart. Suho’s mouth was moving but Kris felt like the ground was moving with it. There was no way. He had to leave. He had to leave Chanyeol.

 

“Wu Yifan, breathe,” was the last thing he heard before he was splashed with ice cold water.

 

Yifan yelps at the impact. He makes the unfortunate mistake of taking his first great inhale as the water collides with his skin. Coughing and hacking into his arm, Yifan miserably accepts the towel Suho throws at him. He’s almost thankful for all the water. His choking fit hid the sobs clawing at his chest and the water mingled with his tears, dripping off his chin. After suddenly being soaked, it was normal to look as miserable as he did, eyes watering and breaths heaving.

 

“It’s all going to be okay,” Suho said slowly. He stands up to pull out a chair for the wet man. “The Capitol is powerful, but not that powerful.”

 

“How are you so sure?” Yifan asks. His voice was still hoarse with panic. The Capitol was not called that for no reason. They were as powerful as powerful could be. No one escaped the Capitol. No one.

 

“Kim Joonmyeon,” Suho said. He has a bitter smile. “Division E, Serial 001.”

 

Wu Yifan. Division S, Serial 00.

 

Yifan stares. Suho—no, Joonmyeon also does the little half salute they were required to make every time they walked past a prison warden. Division E does jog his memory a little. There had been someone, someone who did not belong in the Capitol. They tried to escape, but the Capitol had said—

 

“They said they killed you,” Yifan exclaims before he could stop himself. And it’s true. He had seen the news go on and on about it for days. They had killed the treacherous Division E criminal who thought they could flee the Capitol. There was no escape from the justice of the Capitol.

 

“I’m sure after you escaped, they said the same about you,” Joonmyeon shrugs. As though he could read Yifan’s doubt, maybe he could, Joonmyeon pulled off his sweater over his head, revealing a thin short sleeved shirt. On his left arm, an eagle was poised in flight. The insigna of Division E in the Capitol city.

 

Yifan wants to laugh. All this time, someone knew exactly what he was going through. In this town, he thought he was all alone. No one who could understand.

 

“So no, the Capitol is not as powerful as they want you to think,” Joonmyeon smiles. This smile is giddy, like a child who managed to sneak off with the cookie jar. “In fact, our entire clinic staff are runaways.”

 

“What?” Yifan asks dumbly.

 

“On a planet with a very stringent three syllable naming system, didn’t you find it strange that there was someone called Lay? Or even Chen?” Joonmyeon asks. He walks to the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of orange juice. The shorter man continues talking as he pulls out the glasses and pours the juice. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that no one in this medical center has a family name?”

 

Yifan furrows his brows. Well, to be honest, he just thought that he never heard their full names. He wasn’t sure whether the three syllable system was implemented here very strictly like it was in the Capitol so he just assumed—it was actually sort of weird. Every townsperson he’s met had a primary power—earth, fire, water, wind, and light but no specialties. No one can manipulate organic material like Lay does. No one works on metal the same way D.O. does. No one manipulated water beyond the basics like Xiumin and Suho did.

 

“It’s okay,” Joonmyeon laughs. “You were just too preoccupied at the sauna to have noticed anything else.”

 

Yifan flushes at the implication, but he could find no lie in it. He had been so swept up in trying to assist Chaneyol that he really didn’t notice anything else. He didn’t even know Jongin was a teleporter until maybe last week, and he had been working with that boy since the beginning!

 

“May I ask what your serial number is?” Joonmyeon asks. He holds out the cup of orange juice and Yifan takes it gingerly in his hand. “So far in this facility, I’m the highest rank. You wouldn’t tell that I was one of the worst criminals of the Capitol.”

 

“Wu Yifan. Division S, Serial 00,” Yifan mumbles, staring into his cup. He hates it. He hates everything about it. Yifan runs a hand through his still short hair. It was growing back. Slowly but surely, he was going to leave the Capitol prisons behind him.

 

“You were a double zero?” Joonmyeon gasps loudly. Yifan looks up to Joonmyeons troubled expression. “I’m not sure I can help you.”

 

Yifan frowns. Prisoner classification was never something his division was in charge of. So he had a very basic understanding of what the serial numbers meant. The lower the number, the worst the crime. It made sense that double zeroes were probably the worst of the worst, but Joonmyeon was 1. How much worse could zero be?

 

“Division D and E were in charge of the administrative side of the criminal systems,” Joonmyeon explains. He probably didn’t need any of his water powers to see the confusion on Yifan’s face. “Single digits were the bad ones. The ones the Capitol tried to execute as soon as possible. But the double zeroes were less of criminals and just people the Capitol could not control. The ones that the Capitol used to draw their power from. In fact, anyone who were found to be a part of the Big Three would be given a double zero.”

 

Yifan frowns even harder. Someone the Capitol could not control? Yifan had been a sector manager who supported his mother through his job. He was the very definition of a Capitol brownnoser, a Capitol lap dog! He didn’t even come to his powers until maybe three months ago! Delayed power users were usually useless! Opposite of strong, opposite of powerful, Wu Yifan is so weak.

 

“I can’t help you,” Joonmyeon repeats. His face scrunched into one of concern and frustration. “They never let go double zeroes. Especially one that’s not too far away. You’re barely two worlds across from the Capitol.”

 

“So I should leave,” Yifan says. The panic was starting to rise in his throat. He had no idea that’s what being a double zero meant. He just thought he was branded as a terrible criminal—for what crime, to this day, Yifan still doesn’t really know.

 

“I can’t help you,” Joonmyeon emphasizes. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know someone who can.”

 

“Who?” Yifan asks. He despises the way he’s trembling. The idea of bringing the Capitol to this town and to Chanyeol was terrifying. He grew up in fear of the Capitol and the way his father’s feet never touched the floor again. He knows what the Capitol is capable of.

 

“Kris-hyung,” Joonmyeon says resolutely. There’s a flicker of determination in Suho’s dark eyes. “I think you should go see Luhan.”

 

“Luhan?” Kris echoes. He’s never heard of anyone by that name.

 

“He can help you for a very steep price,” Suho continues. He takes a swig of his orange juice. “You have to know you want this.”

 

Kris thinks of Chanyeol—Chanyeol loves you—and he wants that. He wants to love Park Chanyeol without fear. And while he’s only known Chanyeol for a little more than a month, stupid idiot who the falls in love in a month, Kris found himself willing to give anything.

 

“Looks like you have your answer,” Suho says. His smile is sad. “I suppose your lives are your own.”

 

Kris is pretty sure he’s heard Suho wrong because just as the water user says that, Kris chokes on his orange juice.

 

---

 

Apparently Luhan doesn’t live in this world. And apparently, there are only two people in this town Luhan will see—Xiumin and Oh Sehun.

 

“You want to meet Luhan-hyung?” Sehun asks. He stops mopping the sauna floors and stares at Kris questioningly. “How did you even hear about him?”

 

“Suho told me to look for him,” Kris admitted. Sehun was a surprisingly perceptive kid, and it would only backfire to try and lie. “Apparently, he’s the only one who can help me.”

 

“Why would you need Luhan-hyung’s help? Are you a convict or something?” Sehun snorts, returning to his task. Then he stops and turns to Kris with large eyes. “You are, aren’t you.”

 

Kris looks down at the hem of his staff uniform. He didn’t answer affirmative nor did he deny.

 

“, that’s why,” Sehun groans, throwing his head back in exasperation. “I was so sure you and Chanyeol-hyung had something going on! I was confused on why it ended like that and this is why.”

 

Kris wanted to laugh. He had thought he controlled himself quite well, but apparently everyone saw it. This thought made him pause a little. Did this mean Chanyeol saw it too? Kris’ fondness of him, the hopefulness that maybe they could be? Did it hurt Chanyeol so much more when they were shot down in silence?

 

“You actually like Chanyeol-hyung. I was still right!” Sehun pouts angrily. He points an accusing finger at Kris. “You know hyung wouldn’t care. At this point, you could be a giant seagull and Chanyeol-hyung would still love you the same.”

 

“I’m sure,” Kris hums, rolling his eyes. Sehun had abandoned the mop and flopped to the sauna bench to rant. Kris still maneuvered around him to clean. Unlike the younger, he remembers that he still has a job to do.

 

“No, don’t I’m sure me Kris-hyung!” Sehun whines. He flings his arms up in surrender. “You two really deserve each other. Stupid to the core.”

 

“Hey!” Kris scowls. He forces himself to remember—he was asking Sehun a favor. Let the brat rant all he wants. And Sehun does. He rants and whines about Chanyeol’s depressed self and of Kris’ stupidity. Kris manages to finish cleaning the whole sauna room by himself when Sehun finally runs out of steam.

 

“What was your crime?” Sehun asks. He looked mad but he sounded tired.

 

“I’m not like the others,” Kris shrugs. It was true. He never really knew the crime he committed other than awakening his powers. His powers must have been something unacceptable to the Capitol. There must have been something special about his flight, but he can’t even grasp the basics.

 

“Huh, so there are world that would punish you for being different,” Sehun muses. He stares at Kris contemplating. And finally, “I’ll ask Luhan-hyung to see you. He might not, but I’ll ask.”

 

“Thanks,” Kris smiles. He’s not prepared for the sudden upper cut. Next thing he knows, he’s sitting on the floor cradling his chin. Kris winces, he probably deserves it. Sehun stands over him with a stern look.

 

“Chanyeol-hyung has been through a lot as well,” Sehun says. The air in the room swirls around them slowly, almost threateningly. “He deserves to be happy. Whether it’s with you or not.”

 

“Woah! What’s going on here?” Chanyeol exclaims, walking into the sauna room. The wind disperses. He quickly hobbles in between Kris and Sehun. “I don’t know what happened but violence is never the answer!”

 

“Nothing hyung,” Sehun smiles oh so innocently. “I’m just making sure Kris-hyung knows what he’s doing.”

 

“What?” Chanyeol asks, raising an eyebrow. He looks even more confused than before. “He’s cleaning the sauna rooms like you’re supposed to be?”

 

“Ah, right,” Sehun claps. He turns to grab the mop and rags before meandering his way to the next sauna room. “Kris-hyung, I’ll let you know if he’ll see you!”

 

Chanyeol stares at the door Sehun left through bewildered. He then slowly turns toward Kris and asks softly, “Hyung, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I am,” Kris replies. He rubs his smarting chin and hears Chanyeol sigh deeply. Kris was suddenly aware that they were alone. It’s been a couple days since they’ve even talked for more than simple work checkups. He’s almost scared to look up because he’s not sure what face Chanyeol is making. Before, Kris knew of that permanently fond smile Chanyeol had, but now—a large clatter startles him out of his thoughts.

 

Chanyeol had thrown his clutches aside and was lowering himself onto the floor using the sauna benches as leverage. The red haired man hisses in pain as the cast catches in the grooves of the floor boards. Automatically, Kris scrambled up to help. It was startling to see Chanyeol’s face scrunched up in pain, and Kris feels--is responsible for that pain.  Stabilizing the other man with a hand on his back and another underneath his armpit, Kris eased Chanyeol onto the floor. After making sure Chanyeol was seated comfortably, Kris sits down next to him out of habit.

 

Kris freezes and awkwardly shifts to get up, but Chanyeol pulls him back down by his elbow. Now they were sitting flush next to each other. Kris can feel Chanyeol’s body heat from every place they touched, and honestly, he just wants to lean into it. Instead, he has his arms clamped to his sides, leaning away from the younger man.

 

“Hyung,” Chanyeol says loudly. Kris almost jumps. The shock causes him to face Chanyeol. Bad, bad idea. The red haired man was staring at him with defiant eyes. Their noses almost bumping. Chanyeol his lips and Kris tries so hard not to stare. “I think you like me.”

 

Kris can only manage to breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth. He needs to move back, but Chanyeol has always managed to captivate him. Even now, the soft light of the sauna room casted a glow on his bright hair and wet lips.

 

“I think you do,” Chanyeol says, softer this time. His voice deepens and Kris fights the shivers. “But I need to know if you do. I need to know whether there’s something else keeping you from me. I can wait.”

 

At this, Kris stares into earnest eyes. Chanyeol looked a little desperate, and he probably look pretty desperate himself. Kris takes a shaky breath, Chanyeol does too. The action causes their noses to bump. They share a small smile. Neither move away.

 

“I just need to know if you like me at all,” Chanyeol whispers. He leans in a little closer and Kris can feel the other’s breath ghost over his lips. “Because I think I love you.”

 

Chanyeol tilts his head and lets his lips rest just a hairbreadths away from Kris’. He was giving Kris the opportunity to stop him, to push him away, to reject him. Yifan thinks of the Capitol, his mother, his crime, and—Kris pushes forward, connecting their lips.

 

The red haired man moans as Kris surges forward, so desperate and impatient. So ing overdue. Their lips locked in shallow open mouthed kisses. Again and again and again. Their lips nipped at each other, tasting, feeling, loving. Kris might have initiated the kiss, but Chanyeol chased. Every time Kris tried to break their kiss to breathe, Chanyeol would steel his hold on the other’s neck, not letting Kris go. It wasn’t too long before Kris forced them apart, gasping for air.

 

“Please, please, please don’t leave,” Chanyeol whines. His eyes were shining and wet. He was breathing just as hard as Kris was through swollen lips.

 

Kris laughs, breathlessly. Cupping the other man’s face with his hand, Kris leans in for slow kisses, just innocent presses of lips against lips. Chanyeol chuckles, the movement causing a couple tears to tumble down. Kris kisses those away, catching the salt on his lips. He leans back to kiss Chanyeol’s nose, both his eye lids, his forehead and the underside of his chin. The last one caused Chanyeol to giggle and squirm away from his hold.  

 

“I won’t,” Kris promises. It’s the closest to an I love you he’ll allow himself.

 

Chanyeol accepts it with an earsplitting smile. He lunges forward and buries his nose into the crook of Kris’ neck. Chanyeol was so warm, and unlike earlier, Kris allows himself to curl around the other man.

 

Kris thinks he can get used to this—their hearts racing against each other. And he feels, no, he knows he can give up anything for this.

 

---

 

After lots of bargaining and aegyo, Luhan agrees to meet Kris.  

 

Sehun complains about it whenever Kris is in earshot. He sacrificed so much, he had to do the gwiyomi song twice, can you believe the trauma he went through?

 

“I even loaned some of my mind matter to him,” Sehun blabbers on. They were sitting in the inventory room, sorting through all the new towels and bath robes. Jongin had his earphone in, completely ignoring his friend and leaving Kris to suffer alone. “The things I do to help my ungrateful hyungs. To think I bartered with a Big Three for you—”

 

“Wait, Luhan is a Triforce?” Kris exclaims. Sehun flinches at the volume, and Jongin continues on with his work, earphone snug in his ears.

 

“Yeah,” Sehun answers deadpan. “Why do you think he’s so exclusive? If he lived down the block, you could go and knock on his door yourself.”

 

“I just thought it was more respectful or something like that,” Kris mumbles.

 

“Hah, yeah no,” Sehun laughs. He shoves the box of new towels in a lower shelf. “Luhan-hyung manipulates matter. He can get down to the electron levels of anything in the world. Which is why most people call them just ‘space controllers’ because they can control anything that exists, even space. To be honest, I think that sounds lame.”

 

“How is that different from Lay’s powers?” Kris asks. He frowns at Sehun’s handiwork. The new towels did not go on this shelf. “Is it just because he controls organic matter?”

 

“Yep,” Jongin pipes in. He pushes past Kris to grab Sehun’s wrongly shelved boxes before disappearing into thin air. Kris hears Jongin’s voice from two shelves down where the new towel were supposed to go. “Lay-hyung is organic only, but Luhan-hyung can do anything. Space controllers are the origins of alchemy. They can change anything from one matter to another. Dirt to gold, flesh to stone, heck, he’s even made milk tea out of lightening.”

 

“Show off,” Sehun scoffs. “He was just trying to impress Xiumin-hyung. I can’t believe Chen-hyung went along with that.”

 

“Sounds terrifying,” Kris mumbles. The Capitol never really educated their people on the capabilities of the Big Three. It had always been a vague, oh, they controlled time, space and gravity. Time and gravity were easy enough to understand, but space? Luhan was starting to sound like some kind of monster.

 

“He’s got his limitations too,” Sehun shrugs. He’s putting the new towel boxes in the space Jongin had just vacated on the shelf. The wrong spot, Kris sighs. But Sehun was already walking away.

 

“Luhan-hyung can’t move between worlds on his own,” Jongin says, popping in right in front of Kris. The taller man actually backs into the other shelf in surprise. Jongin slides out the new towel boxes and teleports away, two shelves down. “He needs time and gravity for that.”

 

“It ends up being an equal exchange amongst the Triforce,” Sehun continues. He comes back with another box of new towels and fits them in the wrong spot again. “Time doesn’t mean much without matter and gravity; Matter cannot move in between worlds without time and gravity; and Gravity is the middle pulling force of matter and time. So basically, they can all stand on their own but then be absolutely useless.”

 

“Woah, someone actually sounds smart,” Jongin laughs. He had decided to walk over to their aisle. “Although, this genius over here still can’t figure out that there’s a tag on this shelf that say old towels.”

 

“I didn’t see it!” Sehun huffs, pulling out the box he had just put down. “And neither of you bothered to tell me either!”

 

“I guess your eyes are just accessories,” Jongin teases. He disappears just as Sehun is about to shove him. Sehun yelps as he crashes into a shelf. Jongin’s voice was muffled but Kris heard the teleporter’s laughter in the other room.

 

“He’s no longer my friend,” Sehun grumbles, steadying himself with the large box in hand. He hobbles off into the wrong section and shoves the box into a different wrong shelf. “Stupid Kim Jongin.”

 

“I’m sure,” Kris hums. Sehun pushes by him with a pout. Kris doesn’t say anything as he watches Jongin pop in, grab the box and disappear again. Probably to shelve the box in its right spot.

 

Kris doesn’t try to contain the smile on his face, but he does worry. Last time he met Tao, the time manipulator, the man had asked for twenty years. What would Luhan ask for?

 

---

 

“Your life,” was Luhan’s answer.

 

Yifan swallowed. He would be lying if he didn’t find Luhan intimidating. It was hard to explain, but Luhan was so good looking that Yifan found it unnatural. He thinks of Tao and the time manipulator’s unnaturally handsome features. If it weren’t for the fact he really was a little terrified, Yifan would have laughed at the Big Three stereotype that popped up in his mind. He would need to meet a gravity controller to ascertain his pretty boy theory.

 

But he was quite terrified of the space manipulator. Not a very tall man and slight in frame, Luhan still managed to look like he could easily tear Yifan a part. The only reason he hadn’t yet was the bubble tea he slurped.

 

“It’s pretty simple really,” Luhan shrugs, chewing on the tapioca pearls. The cheery music of the bubble tea shop sounded like a world away. So far away from Luhan’s chilling presence. “You give me your life, or one of your lives, and I seal this world from the Capitol.”

 

“One of my lives,” Yifan repeats slowly. He suddenly remembers something Suho had said—I suppose your lives are your own, and wonders.

 

“Oh, did Suho not explain this to you?” Luhan asks. His expression hasn’t changed once, but the man hadn’t stopped moving. He was either tapping his fingers against his thigh or shaking his leg or just poking around. Yifan’s never met someone so fidgety before. “We all have ‘different lives’ in different dimensions and alternate universes. Somewhere out there, there is another you. The only difference is that you are in this world and they are somewhere else.”

 

Luhan stops and crinkles his nose.

 

“That’s a lie,” Luhan continues, waving a dismissing hand. “Everyone except the Big Three have different lives in different places. The Big Three—I’m sure you’ve met Tao if you’re from the Capitol, there’s only one of us. There’s only one Huang Zitao in entire system and there’s only one of me. But you, there might be hundreds, thousands of you.”

 

It all clicks. Yifan doesn’t like the heavy feeling that curls in his stomach. Luhan wanted his life, and his life really wasn’t his only one. However, that meant him from somewhere else—

 

“Yep,” Luhan hums. He takes another slurp of his bubble tea and smiles. “I want the matter of a life you have somewhere else. I’m guessing you’re not going to give me this one.”

 

Yifan clenches his fists on the table and stares at his knuckles. He was going to kill himself somewhere else so that he here could live freely.

 

“I hope you do understand that I can’t make something from absolutely nothing,” Luhan says in between drinks. He reaches the bottom of the cup and on his straw a couple more times, chasing the last couple of tapioca pearls. “Using the matter and energy of a different life of yours, I can create a barrier between this world and the Capitol. I can create the barrier to specifically react to the Capitol’s attempts to find you as well. Because well, it’s you that I’m going to be making this from.”

 

Maybe somewhere else, Wu Yifan was free and happy. That Wu Yifan might belong somewhere and belong with someone. Was his peace of mind worth ripping that from someone else, well, him-else or something like that? Could he do this to himself of another place?

 

“Suho refused the deal,” Luhan says. He places the empty up to the side and finally focuses all his attention on Yifan. “He said that he never wanted to step on someone else to get what he wanted. Now the question is, are you willing to?”

 

Yifan frowns. Did his fear of the Capitol really warrant killing him-else? Suho had lived here for almost six years with no problems.

 

“I told Suho only to send me those who were sure,” Luhan scoffs. He gives Yifan a pointed look. Something shifts in the air, but Yifan had no idea what. It was like the air itself had changed. “This is wasting my time.”

 

“Wait, I—” Yifan starts, and Luhan silences him with a look.

 

“Wu Yifan, just tell me,” Luhan says. His lips smiled but his eyes were red, literally red. “Why did you come looking for me?”

 

Chanyeol. That’s why Yifan was sitting here. He doesn’t want to see the Capitol hurt Chanyeol. It doesn’t matter that the fire user felt no physical pain. Chanyeol would despair seeing any of his family or friends hurt, and the Capitol would definitely try destroy anyone who dared help their double zero convict.  The red-haired man would die of heartbreak to see the town go down in flames like Yifan knows the Capitol would do.

 

And for himself. Yifan wanted to stay besides Chanyeol. He wanted to belong to this town. He wanted to be Kris Wu and Wu Yifan. For once, he wanted to talk about his hometown and his mother. Maybe even share the story of his father’s crime and execution. Thinking of the sauna staff, Yifan really wants to be honest with them. And he would if and only if the threat of the Capitol didn’t hang over his head like it did. It was selfish, but Yifan really thinks he can sacrifice him-else for this.

 

Luhan laughs. Something in the air shifts again, and for the first time since sitting down with the other man, Yifan feels like their actually in the bubble tea shop. The cheery music was less far away and the sunlight filtering through the windows was warm.

 

“Ah, being in love must be nice,” Luhan chuckles. Instead of soft and elegant, Luhan’s laugh is quite boyish and loud. The unnatural beauty was softened by his silly smile. It was almost like talking to another Luhan. “You’ll do it.”

 

“Yeah,” Yifan croaks. The insides of his mouth felt like cotton, and he regrets not getting anything to drink. “I’ll do it.”

 

“Lovely,” Luhan chirps. He slams his hand palm up onto the table, attracting the eyes of all the customers. “Give me your hand.”

 

Yifan slowly reaches for Luhan’s hand and hesitates. His picture on the wall of Suho’s clinic corridor flashes in his mind, and Yifan slaps his hand palm down onto Luhan’s.

 

“This will only take a second,” Luhan says giddily. “I’m not the best for nothing.”

 

Yifan watches curiously as Luhan’s eyes slid close and his entire body stills. He is too still. It was almost like every single particle in his body decided to freeze. An utterly impossible feat, according to his primary science lessons, but it seems too feasible with a perfect example right in front of him. The cheery music ends and the radio anchor was going on about unexpected surprises.

 

Luhan’s pretty face twists into something ugly, and Yifan resists the urge to retract his hand. The space manipulator looked like he was about to kill something the moment he opened his eyes. And when Luhan opened his eyes, they were a bright scarlet.

 

“It’s done,” Luhan snarls. Yifan stares wide eyes at the other man. He doesn’t dare move his hand, but he really doesn’t want any part of his body in contact with Luhan right now. Luckily he didn’t have to make that choice because Luhan slides his hand from out under his. “It’s finished. This world is safe for you.”

 

“That’s it?” Yifan whispers. He quickly puts both hands in his lap.

 

“Yes, did you not—goddammit,” Luhan exclaims. For the second time, the smaller man got all eyes on them. This time, quiet whispers accompanied those stares. Luhan breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. Running a hand through his hair, Luhan sighs deeply. His eyes were a more natural shade of brown again. “I’m not upset because of you—okay, that’s a lie. I’m not upset at you.”

 

“Okay,” Yifan agrees. He would politely agree with anything Luhan said at this point.

 

“Wu Yifan,” Luhan sighs. “You’re lucky. I usually don’t do favors like these, but I’m forced to make an exception. Stupid Tao probably knew. That’s probably why he sent you here.”

 

“Thank you,” Yifan thanks. He’s not too sure where Luhan was going with this. If the space manipulator did seal this world, he had taken Yifan’s him-else. He had paid the price.

 

“Hah,” Luhan snorts unattractively. He stands up, pushing the chair back loudly. The chair catches on a groove in the floor and Luhan stumbles as the chair tips. Yifan doesn’t know how to react to the 180 degree change in Luhan’s demeanor. “It’s just a loan. You’ll probably be paying it back really soon.”

 

Yifan doesn’t get a chance to ask how before Luhan gets out of his seat and sweeps out of the shop. No one notices the man walk through the door, and only through the shop window did Yifan notice, Luhan didn’t have a shadow. The space manipulator walks down the street with brisk steps and disappears around the corner.

 

Alone and much calmer, Yifan lets everything sink in. He just killed him-else for himself. His throat is thick and choked up. He’ll never know whether him-else was happy wherever he was, but he knows himself.

 

Kris laughs at his own selfishness. They sound like choked sobs, but Kris would never admit to it.

 

---

 

“You saw Luhan-ge?” Lay frowns. It was the final checkup before they took of Chanyeol’s cast. The doctor had said it was healing well and would soon be good as new. Chanyeol could no longer feel pain again and Lay had complained that it made his job so much harder. “And he just did it? Didn’t tell you anything?”

 

“Nope,” Kris shrugs. He’s tracing Chanyeol’s veins on the inside of his wrist. Sitting on the clinic bed, Chanyeol was trying but failing to keep a stoic face. “He just said it was safe now.”

 

“Hm, I wouldn’t have cared either way,” Chanyeol smiles. If Kris had thought the other man’s smiles were beautiful before, they were now utterly captivating. Kris can only smile back, bringing the other’s hand up and kissing the inside of his wrist. “I was never scared of the Capitol.”

 

“That’s because you’ve never had to be,” Kris chuckles. He’s given up on convincing the younger man of the terrors of the Capitol. It was difficult to explain the loneliness, the fear and the collective neglect people had for each other. Especially since Chanyeol grew up loving so much and so hard.

 

“Kris-hyung, how has your practice been going?” Lay asks. He’s cleaning up the area slowly. Lay looked like he was deep in thought, but then again the man always was a little spaced out.

 

“He can barely hover off the ground,” Chanyeol teases. Kris scowls, but it looks more like an ugly pout. “Aw, it’s okay. It might actually be safer if you never leave the ground. Who knows if you’d crash through a ceiling and break some poor guy’s leg again?”

 

“You’d rather me never control my powers?” Kris huffs. He knows his pouting is ugly. After all, it’s not like he spent time in the Capitol practicing. Somehow Chanyeol loves it. “One of these day’s I’m going to blast out into outer space because I can’t control this.”

 

Chanyeol pulls Kris down for a quick and loud smack of lips.

 

“No gross stuff in my office,” Lay pipes up, not looking at the couple—Kris feels ridiculously giddy, a couple. Lay tilts his head like he’s confused about something and turns towards Kris. “Can you try something different when you practice? Actually can you try it right now?”

 

“What?” Kris asks.

 

“I told you to focus on leaving the ground,” Lay says slowly. He seems hesitant and unsure. “Instead try, well, try pulling a ground away from you.”

 

Chanyeol stops smiling. Kris doesn’t know why the red-hair man looked so apprehensive, and it doesn’t make him feel good about the situation. What was the difference?

 

“So instead of leaving the ground,” Kris repeats. “Get the ground to leave me?”

 

“Basically,” Lay confirms. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and stares uneasily at Kris. “Try it now. I just have a little theory I want to test.”

 

Kris lets go of Chanyeol’s hand, full expecting it to drop back to the other’s side, but Chanyeol hooks their fingers together. He looks down questioningly only to find a shock of red hair in his vision. Keeping his head down, the younger man entwines their fingers tighter.

 

“Just to anchor you,” Chanyeol says. He’s still not looking Kris in the eye. “You know, in case you really fly off to the galaxy or something like that.”

 

“Just do exactly what I taught you before,” Lay says. “The only difference is—”

 

“To get the ground to leave me,” Kris talks over the doctor. The worried furrow of Lay’s brow and Chanyeol’s stubborn refusal to look at him made Kris nervous.

 

Close your eyes, Kris remembers. Find your core, where you know your power sits.

 

Everyone’s core was somewhere different. The closer to your heart, the stronger it was they said. Chanyeol’s core was right where his heart was, Baekhyun’s were in his eyes, Suho’s were the palms of his hands, and Kris’ was right around his bellybutton. Something Chanyeol took full advantage of, blowing raspberry kisses there whenever he got the chance.

 

The memories tickle his core and his powers slowly shake off the rust of inactivity. Kris pulls at his core, looking for the familiar connection. This time, instead of pulling away from the ground, Kris focuses on the image of the ground leaving him. It was strange and a little reversed, but he feels his powers responding. They were actually responding. It actually felt right.

 

Kris opens his eyes in glee, he actually felt like he was fly—but he had not moved. Chanyeol was stilling sitting in that position on the clinic bed, Lay was still a little lower than eye level, but both were staring at him in horror.

 

“Don’t stop,” Lay demands. He quickly glanced at Kris’ feet before maintaining eye contact. “Keep focus, don’t let go of that feeling.”

 

Chanyeol shifts to grab both of Kris’ arms and pulled until Kris collapsed onto the bed next to him. Kris looks to Chanyeol for answers, why did they look so terrified? But Chanyeol’s eyes were glued to the floor where Kris had been standing. He follows the other’s line of sight and felt his mouth drop.

 

Right where he had been standing, there was a hole. A perfectly circular hole, just the right size for Kris to fall through. He leans over the side of the bed to peer into opening. Kris could see the different layers of flooring, concrete and finally dirt, but he couldn’t see an end to the long tunnel.

 

“No wonder you couldn’t fly,” Lay laughs dryly. He holds a hand up to his head and tips his chin back. “It’s not that my teaching methods were wrong. I was teaching you the wrong things.”

 

“Lay-hyung, please,” Chanyeol interrupts. The red hair man was shaking and Kris swears he sees those dark eyes water. “Don’t—”

 

“Chanyeol, he needs to know,” Lay says firmly. “He doesn’t need to live with the guilt that he might have killed himself in another world when there is no other Kris Wu than the one we see here.”

 

“I thought everyone had alternative lives,” Kris comments bewildered at all this strange unexplained behavior. He was pretty sure Luhan wouldn’t have lied to him or maybe the space manipulator did. Actually, Kris wasn’t sure anymore. Yifan grew up with minimal knowledge of the Big Three thanks to the Capitol. He had no idea whether the Big Three were actually trustworthy people or chronic liars or knowledgeable or just confident. “Everyone except for the—”

 

“The Big Three themselves,” Lay finishes. He gives Kris a crooked smile. “Congratulations, Kris Wu. You are a gravity controller. You control a cornerstone of the Triforce.”

 

"I, wait what?”

 

---

 

Lay had spent another hour explaining exactly what he needed to practice now. It was similar to flyers, only in the opposite direction. He doesn’t need to adjust himself to gravity but rather adjust gravity to him. In his full control, Kris should be able to change entire gravitational fields and tear open pockets in the universe. With a little help of time and space, Kris should be able to travel where ever and whenever he wished.

 

“Oh don’t worry about the hole in the floor, D.O. will get it,” Lay says as he waves them out of the clinic. The doctor is physically restraining his receptionist to let them leave. Chen was bubbling with questions and comments, but honestly all Kris wanted to do was go home.

 

He wanted to go home, cuddle with Chanyeol and figure out exactly what all of this meant. But Chanyeol was being distant. He hobbles two steps ahead of him and shrugs off any of Kris’ attempts of helping.  

 

“Chanyeol,” Kris says. He repeats the other’s name until Chanyeol grunts in response. “Are you upset at me?”

 

“Why would I be?” Chanyeol asks. His words are short and clipped. His shuffled steps becoming faster. “My friend is one of the Big Three! What an honor!”

 

Kris sighs and walks a little faster to match Chanyeol’s steps. They had just talk about them. Yifan had confessed to everything, his background, his crime, his fears and his love. And just like everyone told him, Chanyeol accepted it all and then some. That night they talked about a more and a future and us? They had walked to the clinic in such high spirits. Pretending to forget how to use his crutches, Chanyeol leaned against him the entire time. It had been a lot of shy exchanges and embarrassing one liners whispered in each other’s ear.

 

All of a sudden, they were at this standoff and Kris really had no idea why.

 

“Chanyeol, I need you to talk to me,” Kris pleads. He grabs one of the crutches, but Chanyeol merely shoves it at him. Using only one of his crutches, the red hair man continues on his way. “I’m not a mind reader.”

 

“No, but you’re one of the Big Three,” Chanyeol spits. He pivots on his good leg, finally facing Kris. His brows were furrowed and lips pressed into an angry line, but Chanyeol’s eyes were sadder than mad. “Not bound by the laws of any universe but their own. Never staying in one place because they can travel where ever, whenever. Always on the go. Always leaving people behind.”

 

Kris blinks. He hadn’t even thought of it like that.

 

“Since you’re here, you’ve met Tao,” Chanyeol rambles on.  “Did you know that Suho-hyung waits for Tao? Because Tao can’t settle? Why settle in one space and one time when you can literally go anywhere? For someone who can control time, he doesn’t spend much of it with Suho-hyung. And what does hyung do? Sit in his lonely office and show other’s the cracks in their hearts! What about him? Who’s helping him through the cracks of his heart?”

 

Kris smiles. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky. Someone who loves others so much decided Kris was worth being with. Someone so bright and just radiant, ah, he was being sappy again.

 

“Don’t just smile at me,” Chanyeol growls. He hops over and pulls the other crutch from Kris’ hands. “Say something! Anything.”

 

“I love you,” Kris complies. Even though Chanyeol makes daily, almost hourly declarations, Kris never said this before. The older man always preferred to kiss the top of Chanyeol’s head or flick him on the nose than make proclamations of love. Kris grins at the red flush that spreads from Chanyeol’s cheeks. “I really really love you Park Chanyeol.”

 

“What kind of idiot falls in love in a month?” Chanyeol gripes, but he’s suppressing a smile.

 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Since I control gravity,” Kris winks, poking his own cheek with his index finger. “I guess it makes sense that you fell for me.”

 

They stare at each other. Each trying not to be the first to cave, but the laughter comes tumbling out. They laugh, loud and uncontrollably, in the middle of the street. Those who know the two merely shake their heads in fondness, and those who didn’t, well, there weren’t many people in town who didn’t know of the two.

 

“Oh my god, that was so bad?” Chanyeol wheezes. He tries to mimic Kris’ actions, but Chanyeol couldn’t even get his hand up to his face. “Where did you learn this ? Chen?”

 

“Please, I have better taste than Chen,” Kris scoffs, but he couldn’t keep up his straight face. Once again, he was doubled over laughing.

 

It takes them a good minute, but they both collect themselves other than the little giggles here and there. Chanyeol was once again pressed against Kris’ side, leaning his head on the taller man’s shoulder. The imbalance made them stumble their way back to the sauna, yet Kris wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

 

“The lovebirds are back,” Baekhyun announces when they stumble through the front doors. Embarrassed, Chanyeol moves to pull away, but Kris sneaks his hand around the other’s waist and keeps him there. It was so much bolder and more forward than Kris has ever been, and the attention makes Chanyeol glow.

 

Ignoring Baekhyun’s loud cooing, Kris pulls Chanyeol through the reception room and through the service facilities. He doesn’t stop until they’re in the living area and in their bedroom. The door swings shut behind them, but neither even twitch at the loud slam.

 

Kris is quick to crowd into Chanyeol’s space, cradling the red-haired man’s face in his hands. He presses a quick kiss against Chanyeol’s lips, then forehead, then nose, and even on both eyelids. The younger man looked so content, just letting the gravity controller shower him with affection. And so that’s exactly what Kris does. Oh so innocent kisses and nose bumps, soothing caresses and quiet sighs.

 

“So Mr. Triforce,” Chanyeol hums against Kris’ cheek. The red-haired man brings his hands up to lay atop of Kris’, nuzzling into the gravity user’s palms. “Any plans after controlling your powers?”

 

“Let’s see. What does one do as a Big Three?” Kris wonders, pulling back and squinting at the other man. He tilts his head forwards to their foreheads touched.

 

He counts Chanyeol’s eyelashes for several moments, just to leave the other man in suspense. Kris was tempted to drag it out even more, just to tease, but Chanyeol looks up through those lashes and Kris couldn’t. Not when Chanyeol’s eyes were just acceptance—whatever you choose, I’d support and love you.

 

“I’d stay,” Kris confesses. “My center of gravity is you. I don’t have anywhere else I’d want to go.”

 

At this, Kris flushes pink. He didn’t expect those words to leave his mouth so raw and earnest. Quickly and most definitely as a distraction, Kris tilts Chanyeol’s chin up. The younger man knows what’s going to happen and tries to squirm out of it, but Kris’ almost always wins. He blows a raspberry kiss on the underside of fire user’s chin and keeps going obnoxiously until Chanyeol shoves him away.

 

“That was foul play,” Chanyeol pouts, cute and endearing. He wipes the bottom of his chin with an exaggerated grimace. “Gross.”

 

“You still love me though,” Kris sing songs. He wiggles his arms underneath the crutches, pulling Chanyeol into a loose embrace. Chanyeol stills and looks up at Kris. There’s something soft in the younger man’s eyes that makes Kris’ heart skip a beat.

 

“Yeah, I do,” Chanyeol beams. He leans up to kiss Kris, short and sweet. “I guess I am the one who fell for this gross person.”

 

---

 

----

 

---

 

“Your Big Three stereotype was right. All of you guys are pretty boys.”

 

Kris makes an ugly face at him, and Chanyeol just mimics it back.

 

---

 

----

 

---

 

Epilogue of Sorts:

 

“Welcome to the sixth meeting of ‘My Partner is a Triforce So I’m Practically Single’,” Chen begins solemnly. “We’re here today to discuss more of our missing partners and support each other in our struggles.”

 

Chanyeol blinks rapidly in confusion.

 

“So our group lead, Suho, will talk about coping methods to deal the continuous absence of a time manipulator,” Chen introduces. He passes on the microphone to Suho and steps to the side.

 

“It’s difficult and hard,” Suho sighs. “Let me reassure you that it has nothing to do with whether they love you or not though. That transcends time, space or gravity. They love you. They just might not be there all the time.”

 

Leaning to the person to his right, Chanyeol whispers as quietly as he could manage, “Kris-hyung, why are we here?”

 

“You said you wanted to help Suho out and so here’s what everyone organized,” Kris whispered back, gesturing at the small but attentive audience. Taking a sweeping glance, Chanyeol spots Luhan playing some handheld game in the front row. Or maybe not that attentive.

 

“Yeah, but I’m not practically single,” Chanyeol snorts. This causes Lay to turn around and shush them loudly—“Suho-hyung brings up a very good point here, please listen!”

 

“Neither is he,” Kris whispers back once he’s sure Lay was preoccupied. “Tao is around. Just not permanently like I am.”

 

“Can we leave?” Chanyeol whines. “I’m bored already! It’s not like all of this is anything new from what he usually complains to me about!”

 

“Yoh, Tao, do you think you could stop by more often?” Kris asks in a low voice. Chanyeol looks around confused. The time manipulator was nowhere in sight. “Suho’s taking up my boyfriend’s time.”

 

“Whatever,” came the sudden voice behind them. Startled, Chanyeol turns around completely to see Tao in the seat behind them, staring at the stage adoringly. “I think I like this little tribute dedicated to me.”

 

“Oh dear lord,” Kris mutters under his breath.

 

“Oh!” Tao suddenly exclaims. He stand up so suddenly that he shoves Kris’ chair forward a little. “No, Joonmyeon-hyung, don’t cry!”

 

“Tao? Is that you?”  

 

Kris gives Chanyeol a long suffering look. Chanyeol smiles and settles comfortably into his seat, ignoring his boyfriend’s outright plea. He pretends that the heartwarming reunion had his full attention as though it didn’t happen the previous five ‘My Partner is a Triforce So I’m Practically Single’ meetings.