“You’re ruining my mood,” Baekhyun says. He smoothes out a fingerprint imprinted at the base of his newest project — a statue of ballerinas conjoined at the waist. He imagines the finished product to be stick thin, with one twin in fourth position and the other with her leg raised in an arabesque a demi hauteur. At the moment he only has a standing platform shaped and the beginning of one leg but he has time to finish. This one isn’t for school but for himself. It’s been so long since he’s crafted anything just for leisure.

“I doubt it. You’re always in a bad mood.”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes at his cell phone sitting on the table off to the right, between various clay tools, a ratty paintbrush, and a red plastic cup half filled with murky water. “That’s a lie.”

“No, it isn’t.” Sehun chuckles and Baekhyun presses harder into the clay, distracting himself from thinking about how sweet the dancer’s voice sounds. “What are you doing after your studio time tomorrow?”

“Avoiding you.”

“You can’t avoid me, Peppercorn. I know your schedule better than you do.”

And Baekhyun is still confused as to why that is so. He’s never sure if he should be creeped out or flattered when he walks out of class and Sehun is there, playing with his phone, waiting for him. Even on days when his professors send out a class email last minute about a room change, the dancer still knows where to go as if he schemes with Baekhyun’s professors to find out his schedule.

“That’s because you’re a freak.”

“Only for you, babe.”

Accidentally squishing the small foot he had managed to make, Baekhyun curses. “Do not call me ‘babe’ ever again.” He hears Sehun hum amusedly through the speaker phone.

“You’re right. It doesn’t sound as good as some of the other pet names I’ve given you, Passionfruit.”

“Why don’t you ever call me by my name?”

“Are you trying to tell me that your name really isn’t Cottage Cheese?”

“Sehun…”

“I don’t have a reason to. It’s not like we’re close or anything. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Confused, Baekhyun glances at his phone. “What kind of relationship do we have then?”

Sehun’s silent for longer than Baekhyun feels comfortable with. Finding himself losing focus on his project, he cleans up, covering the clay so it isn’t contaminated and tossing his tools into a plastic container with the rest of his supplies. Picking up a towel by his feet, he wipes his hands of most of the excess from the clay. Just as he takes his phone and turns off the speaker function, pressing it to his ear, there is a knock at the front door.

“I am expecting an answer, you know,” he says when Sehun still doesn’t reply.

Opening the door, Baekhyun doesn’t expect to be tackled into a hug. He refrains from screaming as soon as he recognizes the wide eyes staring into his.

“ing hell Kyungsoo, don’t scare me like that.” As soon as he wriggles out of the hug, he hits the equally short man in the chest.

Kyungsoo raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, gorgeous. I couldn’t help myself.”

Baekhyun looks at Kyungsoo, unamused, for a short second before remembering the phone in his hand. “Sehun?” He thinks the younger has hung up on him but then he hears the small sound of acknowledgment. “You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well then repeat what you said. I didn’t hear it.” Baekhyun stiffens when Kyungsoo invades his personal space again, trying to hear the conversation from the other side of the phone. He pushes the singer away.

“Actually, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay.”

The phone beeps twice and Baekhyun pulls the device away from his ear in time to catch the call ended message flash across the screen. Frowning, he slips the phone into his pocket.

“Who was that?”

“No one. What are you doing here?”

Kyungsoo perks up, grabbing Baekhyun by the arm. “Let’s go out.”

They end up sitting at a cute, square table in some cafe Baekhyun’s never heard of before with neutral tan walls and a lingering fragrance of cinnamon. To say he’s impressed is an understatement. He was sure Kyungsoo was going to take him to the cheap fast food restaurant around the corner from their apartment building. It’s surprisingly refreshing to know Kyungsoo isn’t totally tasteless and barbaric.

As Baekhyun picks through the tiny words of one of the inspirational quotes painted in midnight black on the wall beside him, Kyungsoo slides the single rectangular menu over to him. Turning his attention to the singer across the table, he takes the menu gingerly.

“I come here all the time,” Kyungsoo says. Baekhyun assumed that with how quickly he chose what to get. “Go on and pick whatever you want. It’s on me.”

About to protest how he is capable of paying for himself, Baekhyun is interrupted before he can even begin.

“That’s code for I’m going to run out on the bill and if you don’t follow when I do, you’re on your own.”

Baekhyun starts, his flinching hand knocking a napkin dispenser to the floor. That man was not standing by their table two seconds ago. What is he, a phantom? Baekhyun didn’t even notice him coming. God, one day he’s going to kill someone for surprising him and then he’s going to go to jail and waste away without his eyeliner and his clay and his bi-monthly manicure. He glares at the stranger and his red polo shirt and his tan slacks and his angry face. If anyone should be angry, it should be Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo laughs. “How nice of you to be working, Jongdae. I could have sworn you were off today.” He bares his teeth, the spread of his lips too strained to be considered a smile.

“Where is my money, Kyungsoo?”

This so-called Jongdae has a jawline that looks like it was cut right out of the side of mountain. Baekhyun’s never seen such a lovely bone structure. He wonders if the waiter will agree to model for him once.

“You see, I would pay you back what I owe you but —”

“Don’t screw with me. I still haven’t gotten payment for those three semi-automatics you sold or the second half of the installment for your Deagle.” Jongdae says, leaning in close to Kyungsoo. “I know people, Kyungsoo. I know people who wouldn’t hesitate to put you in the hospital if I don’t get my money.”

Jongdae releases him and turns to Baekhyun with the sweetest smile. “What can I get for you?” He pulls out a small pad of paper from his back pocket and plucks his pen from behind his ear. “I recommend the chocolate coconut crepe if you’re in the mood for something sweet.”

A little intimidated, Baekhyun nods, agreeing to the scary man’s suggestion. How can someone so handsome be so completely terrifying?

Jongdae notes down the order on his pad. He sends Kyungsoo a glare before retreating in the direction of the kitchen.

Baekhyun finally leans over to pick up the fallen napkin dispenser. Setting it back on the table, he raises an eyebrow at the man across from him. “Should I even ask what the context of that whole confrontation was?”

Kyungsoo plays with the menu, turning it over and bending the corners. “On occasion I work for Jongdae who works for his father who works on the black market. Jongdae’s father is a scary man, Jongdae is his scary son, and I’m the innocent and precious victim.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re the innocent and precious victim.”

“That’s because he’s not.”

The napkin dispenser is accidentally pushed off the table again and Baekhyun curses. He glares at the man placing his crepe carefully in front of him and sliding a poppy seed bagel slathered with cream cheese to Kyungsoo. “Can’t you announce your presence or something so I don’t die of shock?”

“Kim Jongdae has arrived?”

Any fear he has over Jongdae dissolves and Baekhyun narrows his eyes at the waiter.

Jongdae shrugs and slips his hands into his pockets. “In my opinion, it doesn’t matter if I warn you or not. You’re gonna get scared either way.” He fakes a punch, just barely lifting a fist, and laughs when Baekhyun flinches.

Baekhyun mutters under his breath about how the world is filled with nothing but stupid people and jerks. He turns to his crepe and picks it up, folding it over to take a bite. He glares again when Jongdae pulls up a chair from an empty table and sits down next to him.

“I like this kid, Kyungsoo,” he says, patting Baekhyun on the shoulder. “You should keep him around.”

Baekhyun ignores him, looking around the place as he eats his crepe. It’s such a sweet shop. He doesn’t understand how he never knew about it before. As someone who used to rarely leave his apartment before Lu Han and his stalker ways invaded his once peaceful life, he used to know about every store and restaurant in the neighborhood. It's sad he didn't know about this place. It’s two doors down from the salon where he gets his hair dyed. There are a few couples seated at the small tables littered around — actually, that’s probably the reason. Single men like him don’t like places frequented by cute, sweet, loving couples.

He’s pulled away from admiring the dimmed lights surrounded by tan drum shades hanging above each table and the white cushioned but still elegant wire chairs when a finger presses into his cheek. a bit of chocolate off his finger, he stares at Kyungsoo. The wide eyed man nods at the door and tells them they should get going before Jongdae starts making up lies about what they did as kids like he always does when Kyungsoo introduces him to someone new. Baekhyun, mildly amused, turns to Jongdae and asks what Kyungsoo was like when he was small. Kyungsoo grabs his elbow and pulls him out of his chair before Jongdae can finish the first sentence of his story.

Minseok has absolutely no problem killing a man with his bare hands and if that man knocks one more time, he's going to die as soon as this is over.

“Xiumin,” Kris calls again, knocking from the other side of the bathroom door for the umpteenth time, “are you alright?”

His head feels like it’s undergoing surgery and a sketchy surgeon is cutting out squares of his brain like it’s strawberry gelatin. No, no he’s not alright. But if his other half’s crazy boyfriend wants to give him instructions on how to be alright, Minseok would take them with no hesitation. He has half a mind to glare but immediately disposes of the idea. Kris wouldn’t be able to see it and Minseok is afraid of turning away from the toilet. Instead he yells back, telling Kris to leave him alone as politely as he can because the Kris thinks Xiumin is the one in here experiencing the pain of a killer migraine and feeling like he’s going to vomit out his internal organs.

“Do you want me to pull your hair back or whatever?”

Hitting his forehead with his palm, Minseok feels all of his patience leave him. “I don’t have hair to be pulled back, you —” He swallows without thinking when the little remains of his small breakfast snake up into his esophagus but ends up hunched and heaving over the toilet anyway. Blindly, he reaches up and flushes the toilet when he's done. Falling back to sit on folded legs, he wipes at his mouth with the heel of his hand. He sits there for another two minutes until the headache lessens to just a dull throbbing before he stands to wash his hands and rinse out his mouth.

He stares into the mirror. He has no idea what’s going on with their body — they’re not feverish or otherwise sickly — but it can’t possibly be anything good. The headaches are nothing to worry about, usually, because they’re a minor symptom of the disorder but the random vomiting is not okay. He wipes his slightly damp hands on the side of his jeans. He opens the door to the bathroom and steps back instinctively when Kris falls through the doorway.

Kris looks at him, both confused and worried. “Minseok?”

Xiumin smiles lightly and shakes his head. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Do you mind slowing down?” Lu Han puffs, bent over with one hand on his right knee and the other wrist in Sehun’s right hand. After they missed the bus to downtown, Sehun decided they would walk instead of waiting for fifteen minutes for another bus to come. Lu Han hasn’t had this much physical exercise in months. In those cheap workout videos the instructor always asks if you can feel the burn. Well, he is definitely feeling the burn. He’s feeling it so much he’s lost all feeling in his left leg. That doesn’t stop Sehun. Then again, Sehun’s never cared about anyone but himself. Especially when there is bubble tea involved.

Sehun doesn’t say anything and keeps walking, tossing a struggling Lu Han off balance. The blond stumbles over his feet. He thinks that if he didn’t catch his balance Sehun would just drag him the rest of the way to the boba shop even if it caused Lu Han bodily harm.

“If you let me go, I’ll tell you where Baekhyun lives,” Lu Han offers. He sighs in relief when Sehun’s grip around his wrist slackens but then it tightens. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d cry. “Hey! Why are you using more strength than before?”

The dancer still doesn’t reply.

“Oh Sehun, as your elder I command you to release me this instant!”

Xiumin and Minseok get along with each other decently enough, as much as two personalities in one shared body can. He gets the idea that Kris doesn’t understand this from how he treats them so differently. Even if Kris beats them with the same amount of anger and force, Kris only really shows remorse to Xiumin and that’s always bothered him; how Kris favors one of them over the other. Chanyeol does it but Xiumin can live with that because he isn’t dating Chanyeol. But Kris…Kris is a big factor of his life and no matter how much Minseok’s thoughts are interfering with his own (like how sleeping with Kris suddenly feels strange and how walking with their hands clasped doesn’t give him the same happiness it did a few months ago), he’ll always be important to Xiumin. That’s why Xiumin wants to be treated equally with his other half. With no idea if they’ll share this body for the rest of their lives or if one of them will eventually leave, Xiumin only wants the best for Minseok. That’s why he respects Minseok and the other’s affection for Lu Han. He just hopes his other half won’t get hurt by Kris or Lu Han.

(What Xiumin is mostly worried about is hurting Minseok himself. Because Xiumin has lived his past. Minseok is only the product of it).

Kris squeezes his hand and Xiumin looks up at him. “I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything?” He asks, pointing to the convenience store across the street.

Xiumin shakes his head. He watches as Kris runs across to the store. Looking at his boyfriend’s back, his fingers trail across his wrist and he realizes he isn’t wearing long sleeves. Frowning, he resorts to pulling at the hem of his t-shirt.

“Minseok!”

Xiumin looks up from his shirt to the person waving at him from the other end of the sidewalk. His eyes drift toward the convenience store Kris is in before going back to the one jogging up to him, another familiar face by their side. Hopefully if the conversation goes quick enough, nothing will go wrong.

I tried to make a cliffhanger and then I remembered I at writing cliffhangers so enjoy that crappy ending to this chapter because I'm too lazy to make it better. Get at me bro. Thug life.

I'm also too lazy to write another poem but next time you guise, next time. (All of your comments about my poem were so funny because I started out writing poetry before fiction lolol none of you will believe me)

We meet Jongdae, learn a little bit more about Kyungsoo, and we're coming up on a couple climactic parts of the story~~ Oh oh and we're at 51000 words you guise. We're not very close to the end but I feel like when this story does end I'm just going to cry ;A; I don't even want to think about it T_T

And I'm rambling again. Until next time my loves~~

WHOA WHOA WHOA WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT D:

I REACHED 200 SUBS HOWEVER MANY DAYS AGO THAT WAS. I never thought the day would come. I thought no one would like this fic and everyone would think it was stupid and gross and I was just going to be writing to myself. Like what do I say? I've already offered you my heart, my soul, and my first born child. I don't have anything else to give you guys for being so awesome. JUST JUST LEAVE ME TO DIE ;A;

(you like my dramatic speech? i like it too. okay bye bye for real now)