No matter how cool it seemed to Jongin when he was just a little boy, being on a wheelchair .

He now appreciates the beauty of walking as he uses his hands on the chair’s wheels to push himself forward and through the suffocating sea that is the screaming mob of EXO-Ls surrounding him. Fortunately, one of his hyungs took the initiative to maneuver the wheelchair, and he put his hands back on his lap as he sat their silently. It was slightly humiliating for him, and kind of awkward—imagine having to sit on a chair that is being wheeled through a bunch of people, cameras and their flashes going off every now and then, fangirl voices going through your head, ranging from obnoxious squeals to quiet mumbles. He felt like Babe, the pig in the city—an animal being showcased in front of the press.

“Hang in there, Jong,” he hears from beside him. He looks up from his current head-hanging state and sees behind his bangs the owner of the voice. It was his Kyungsoo, walking beside him and resting a warm hand on his shoulder. Both of them were wearing face masks, but from gazing into Kyungsoo’s eyes, he could tell that the latter was smiling at him reassuringly.

Jongin could feel his heart swell with every emotion imaginable: joyous, because his hyung was such a sweetheart; proud, because he was the boyfriend of this precious human being; hurt, because he couldn’t hold Kyungsoo’s hand; and frustrated, because he couldn’t grab Kyungsoo and express his love using a maybe-a-little-too-passionate kiss.

The younger smiles back at his hyung, and pats the hand on his shoulder thankfully. He tries his best to make it look like a brotherly gesture, but in the background he could hear all the KaDi shippers chanting like they’re having a prayer vigil for the two of them.

When they had to stop for a while to wait for a few documents, Jongin was muttering his thanks to the gods everywhere. His head was spinning; probably because he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep after their concert. They stayed at the side, where no fans were capable of getting anywhere too close.

Jongin feels like he was about to faint. He was sleepy and tired and hungry and hot. He wanted to maybe die. He leans forward unconsciously, and he grips the armrests of his wheelchair to keep his balance. Kyungsoo immediately jolts closer to his aid, eyes widening in utter worry. “Jongin!”

His heart swells again, and now he’s filled with dizziness and giddiness. Ugh, stop it, Soo, he thinks.

“Jongin, are you alright?” the smaller of the two asks before turning to their manager. “Hyung, can we have a bottle of water or two?” Judging from Kyungsoo’s tone, Jongin could tell that his hyung was already panicking.

The taller forces himself to speak, with little difficulty because his head was hung low. “Soo,” he rasps. “Soo, I’m fine.”

He knows his hyung won’t buy it, and he was right, because the next thing he sees is a bottle of water and a wrapped chicken sandwich gently shoved onto his lap. “You are not fine,” Kyungsoo mutters, and only then did Jongin realize that his boyfriend was crouching down in front of him to level with his eyes.

Jongin resists the urge to pull down his and Kyungsoo’s face masks and pull him into a kiss.

“Airport food?” he jokingly asks, weakly examining the chicken sandwich in his hand.

“Yes,” the older answers, yanking the sandwich from Jongin and unwrapping it for him, “but it’s food nonetheless, so eat it, you idiot.”

The younger chuckles at the remark, as he takes back the sandwich from his penguin’s stubby hands. “Thanks, Soo.” He looks into Kyungsoo’s eyes and communicates as much I-love-you’s as he can. The petite male pulls down his face mask, mouthing a quick I love you before standing back up to return to his previous position beside Jongin. Kyungsoo was smart, he knew that if he crouched down in front of Jongin for too long, their (not so) delusional fans would start getting the (not so) wrong idea. He rearranges his mask back properly before massaging his boyfriend’s nape just the way he likes it.

The taller of the two can now say that he’s a lot better, as he feels his hyung’s world’s best massaging hand on his nape. He purses his lips to bite back a stupid grin, pulls down his face mask, and starts devouring the sandwich.

Jongin changes his mind.

Maybe getting stuck in a wheelchair wasn’t so bad after all.