Zitao reminded him of home.  Or, at least that’s what Kris thought he was feeling.  Truthfully, if Kris thought too hard about it, he didn’t know what that word even meant.

Home.

Kris was used to being the new kid, and being immersed in a language he didn’t know was nothing new to him.  He had been in Korea, training under SM Entertainment for the past three years. And he knew that eventually, he would be back in China.  But that thought stirred no nostalgia in him.  He would never be back home with his parents, living a normal life ever again.  So no, he could not go home.  He could never have home.

But that didn’t stop the ache in his chest and the twisting of his gut every time he was around Zitao.

Zitao was a tough nut to crack.  He intimidated everyone with his sharp glares and sulking.  He had to be tough if he wanted to survive the competition.  But underneath it all, Kris could see that it was an act.  He hoped it was, anyway, because he didn’t want to deal with that side of Zitao forever.  And yet, at the same time he hoped that he was the only one who could see it.  Kris wanted to protect him, but he didn’t know why and he didn’t know what that meant, so he let it go.  He pushed it out of his mind and practiced harder.

Kris was the late-to-bed-early-to-rise type, and only one half of that equation fit his life at SM.  As a result, he was always the last one to bed, silently creeping down the hall so as not to disturb his slumbering roommates.  It had been about three months since Zitao had arrived, and Kris couldn’t help but find himself spacing out, thinking about him.  It was stupid, really, because the only time Zitao ever really spoke to him (or anyone, for that matter) was when he needed help communicating.  The extent of his Korean appeared to be, “oppa” and “annyeonghaseyo” – something they all had a good laugh about when Zitao had first blurted out the inappropriate greeting to Xiumin.  He didn’t really seem to be making much of an effort, either.  But lately, the previously unfriendly Zitao had gotten even worse.  He was ignoring everyone and keeping to himself.  Any progress Kris thought he had made with him had quickly been reversed.

That night, Kris had been laying in their living room floor, going over past conversations he had had with the young boy, wondering what it was that had happened to turn his mood so sour.  Unable to come up with anything, he decided to call it a night and stumbled through the dark to his room.  As he passed the room Zitao shared with Xiumin, Luhan, and Chen, he paused for just a moment, knowing that the boy who had captivated his thoughts was just on the other side of the door.  It was then that he heard a heartbreaking sob, quickly choked off and muffled.

Normally, Kris would have ignored it and let it go.  They all gave into the stress and pressure and broke down, and it was kind of an unspoken rule that if you were crying in bed at night, it meant that you had wanted it to be left alone.  Despite this, even the thought that the cry’s owner could be Zitao was enough to spur Kris to slip into the room.

He quickly scanned the dark room, determining that the sniffling was coming from one of the bottom bunks.  And as he drew closer, he felt like someone had shot him through the heart.  It was quite a pathetic sight to see – Zitao curled into the fetal position, worrying his lip painfully between his teeth, pale hands grasping his blanket in a death-grip.  Kris found himself at his side, a hand the younger’s back gently, afraid of rejection.

“Shhh,” he tried to sooth him, growing bolder when he wasn’t pushed away.  “It’ll be okay, Zitao.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I miss my family.”  He choked out, voice syrupy thick with tears.  “I miss home and I can’t go back.”

And then Kris understood.  Zitao was realizing something that all of them had had to realize before: there was no going back.  And there was absolutely nothing Kris could do except murmur words of comfort and his hair as he cried his heart out, face buried against Kris’ thigh.

+++

Kris was confused.  He was confused about a lot of things, a lot of the time, and all of these things seemed to come from Tao – that was to be his new stage name, after all, so they had all taken to calling him that for short.

Kris had had best friends before – friends who he considered close enough to be brothers.  But he had never felt this way about anyone before.  He wasn’t gay, right?  Or maybe he was.  Kris wasn’t even sure if he cared about that because to him, whatever ‘this’ was with Tao was beyond that, somehow.  So Kris tried a new approach: he would stop trying to think about it, and just feel it.  It was probably just a phase, anyway.

It was like a dam had broken between Tao and he after that night.  Though still quiet and reserved, Tao had begun making small talk with him and the others, and had cut down on all the glaring.  It had taken a lot off tension out of the air, but Kris had to admit that seeing him warming up to the others as well brought forth a feeling akin to jealousy.

That day, group had gotten done with practice a bit earlier than expected, so the pair had made their way to the nearest convenience store to pick up some snacks before heading back the dorm.  And like usual, Kris got roped into paying for it all when Tao had to suddenly step outside to “take a call.”  Right.

By the time Kris joined Tao out on the sidewalk, the overcast skies had finally given way to rain as icy cold raindrops began to litter the ground.  Luckily, Kris had thrown an umbrella in his backpack, which he pulled out to shield the two from the shower.

The two made their way back towards their dorm as the rain picked up, coming down like icy daggers as the air around them cooled considerably.  They had come to wait for the streetlights to change at a crosswalk when Kris looked over to Tao and noticed that he was shivering.  Unconsciously, he took a half step towards him and shuddered when he felt Tao’s jacket brush against his arm.

“Gege, I’m cold.”  Tao whined, surprising them both when he turned towards Kris and buried his nose in the crook of his neck.  “My nose is cold.”

Kris thought that if he could have melted into a puddle and been washed away with the rainwater right then and there, he would have.  The light changed and people flowed around them, busily crossing the street.  And then it changed again.  And again.  But it didn’t really matter because the only thing that really existed was Tao’s soft breath against Kris’ neck.

And then, as if someone had flicked a switch in Kris’ brain, he remembered to breathe again.  And he thought, disjointedly, that he should probably stop being such a creep and say something.  ‘Act normal!’ his brain shouted.

“That’s because your nose is so big.”  He dead-panned, earning him a bruising jab in his side.  But it was worth it when Tao looked up at him, gracing Kris with the first honest smile he had seen on him.  And when Kris took in his adorable scrunched up nose and beautifully shaped mouth, he knew he was done for.

+++

Kris remembered reading once that some languages had single, simple words that described painfully intense feelings that could not be expressed in any of the languages he knew.  He wondered if there was a way to describe how he had come to feel about Tao.  Kris figured that he could sit down and write an entire book about Tao and the things he did to Kris, but at the end he still wouldn’t be able to make sense of how he felt.

But it went a little like this:  When Tao wasn’t around, Kris ached for just a glimpse of him.  And when Kris touched him – just an accidental brush of hands or thighs as they sat next to each other in the van – he thought he was going to explode.  Exactly how many butterflies lived in his stomach, he wondered?

Whatever it was, it was the most irrationally painful and intensely hopeful feeling he had ever felt. 

Months went by and the group trained harder, readying for their nearing debut.  Tao had really opened up to the group, and to Kris in particular.  The two spent a lot of time together, and Kris had begun to see more of Tao’s smiles.  The only downside was that with Kris by his side, Tao had completely given up any attempt to learn any Korean.  Though he still jokingly called Xiumin “oppa”.

“The fans are going to love you two.”  Suho commented one afternoon as they were just coming back to the studio from their lunch break after watching Tao and Kris joke around with each other. 

“Huh?”  Kris asked, genuinely confused.

“You and Tao.  Every fangirl from here to Canada is going to sail that ship.  Hell, even I’m a fan.”  He tried to explain with a laugh before walking ahead to catch up with Chanyeol and Kai.

Ships?  Kris couldn’t understand half of what Suho was saying so he shrugged and let it go.

+++

The night found Xiumin, Luhan, Tao and he at food stand near their dorm.  The night air was crisp and the smell of winter was in the air.  It was the night before their half day off, as their schedule had been packed full to prepare them for debut, which was only a few short weeks away.  The others had called it a night and had gone home, but the four had made a merry group, sipping alcohol to ease the aches and pains of their overworked muscles.  It was a curious feeling, though – knowing that it was one of their last nights as free men.

Tao had declined any sort of alcoholic drink, and Kris wondered if he was even old enough in Korea.  But he was kind of glad for it, anyway – Tao just didn’t seem the type.  Kris, on the other hand, had had a few.  Enough for him to take Tao’s hand and drag him away from the other two towards a railing that overlooked the river.  Xiumin and Luhan, who recently had grown quite close, ignored them, too engrossed in each other to notice.

“The stars look so much brighter when it’s cold out.”  Tao observed, his husky voice cutting through any haze of alcohol that Kris had been feeling, reminding him of that familiar pain.

“An apt observation, peaches.”  He joked, using the nickname that Tao hated the most.  It earned him a half-hearted poke in the ribs and a lopsided grin.

The two stood, side by side, gazing at the stars.  As the wind blew and the silence grew longer, Kris could feel a dark mood take Tao over.

“I’m scared, gege.”  He said in a quiet, careful voice.

“Of what?”

“Of debut.  Everything is going to change.”

“It’ll be okay.”  Kris echoed the first words of comfort he had ever uttered to the boy, but he wasn’t sure if that was true.  He understood what he meant.  It was a thought that he had done his best to ignore.  He knew that when they debuted, things would be different.  Forced to confront it, anxiety suddenly clawed at his chest.  What would happen to Tao and he?  What did that even mean?  It wasn’t like ‘this’ was anything, but Kris suddenly felt like he had to tell him.  Tell him something. 

“Tao, I…”  His voice cracked and he lost his nerve. 

He what?  Loved him?  Wanted him?  Wanted to do something to up their friendship for life and make everything awkward forever and ever?

Tao turned to him, placing his warm hand over Kris’, which had been gripping the railing so hard that his knuckles had turned white.  Balancing on the balls of his feet, he reached up and planted a kiss on his leader’s cheek, allowing his lips to linger on his smooth skin as his breath rushed out in uneven pants, betraying his outward calm.

“I love you too, gege.”

Kris could have sworn that he heard something break in him.  Like a balloon being popped, all the tension rushed out of him to be replaced with warmth and happiness.  The aching pain in his chest was gone, but the butterflies were as active as ever. 

He took a deep breath and released his death-grip on the railing, turning his hand over to intertwine his fingers with Tao’s, and he knew that it was going to be okay.  He was home.