- -

            Wu Fan wouldn’t call himself a bookworm. Sure, he enjoys two or three (thousand, Zitao’s voice adds in his head) reads a week, and sure, he houses an extensive collection of English classics including F. Scott Fitzgerald and scattered Dickens’ novels which take up half of his room’s space, which really only equates to a quarter of the room, the other half kept spotless by Jongdae. He remembers Jongdae’s sorry face when he asked if he could, perhaps, leave a book or two on his roommate’s side table. “Really, hyung,” he said. “I’d love to help, but… I’ve got a gardening project coming up and I really can’t afford to waste any amount of space which God is giving me the opportunity to fill with glorious green.”

            That was two months ago. And that still doesn’t make him a bookworm.

            Also, Wu Fan doesn’t recall seeing any amount of soil or terracotta pot in their room since then.

            His band mates often ask him where he finds the time to clear a novel from start to finish, and usually when they do, he forgets to give them a decent answer because “Sorry, I’ll get to you later, it’s just that I’m almost at the end and it’s the and—oh, so that’s what happened…”

            The conversation is left unfinished and eventually, Wu Fan is left alone.

            There is one member, though, who doesn’t seem to get the idea no matter how many times Wu Fan has subtly attempted to shoo him off. For some reason, he decides to bother Wu Fan at the most important part of each novel, too. And as much as Wu Fan loves Chanyeol, he wouldn’t object to the other boy shutting his mouth for more than a minute when they were together.

            “Hey hyung, what’cha doing?” Chanyeol says while Wu Fan is in the middle of Into the Wild, reading glasses rested at the tip of his nose. The sound of their new single echoes in the distance, Lu Han’s voice barely reaching his ears. Wu Fan peers upwards, taking a short glance at his band mate and cocking an eyebrow, saying nothing before he returns to his book. He hears Chanyeol huff and all of a sudden, there’s extra weight leaning on his shoulder. He turns his head to find Chanyeol’s face merely inches away, teeth barren in an exaggerated smile.

            “Hi!” he says, and Wu Fan understands why people find it unimaginable for a boy like Chanyeol to have a voice that deep. It’s alright though, he thinks. It’s alright, because you’re still taller than him.

            “Hi Chanyeol, I’m reading, now if you don't mind I’d li—“

            “What are you reading?” Chanyeol presses on, leaning a few centimeters forward. “How can you read in such uncomfortable clothes?”

            The questions keep coming, but Wu Fan learnt how to shut them out a few months ago, after learning that scolding him a. only results in guilty feelings, and b. doesn’t get him to stop anyways so you really shouldn't bother.

            He’s beginning chapter 16, getting one step closer to the end of the book, when suddenly, a blue piece of fabric that ends in a gold-and-silver tassel is shoved onto its pages. He looks up to find Chanyeol, still smiling at him, pressing the             bookmark deeper in to the page.

            “Here!” he says. “I bought this for you!”

            Wu Fan pauses, then takes the bookmark into his fingers. Silk, he thinks. Nice.

            “Thank you, Chanyeol. Where’d you find this?”

            “Some bookstore somewhere. I was walking around, saw it, and thought of you! So I said to myself ‘Hey, why not, all good friends buy gifts for each other at random, right?’ and I bought it. So? Do you like it? Besides,” Chanyeol’s right hand moves to the top right corner of his book, and he drags his finger through the pages. It’s the first time Wu Fan notices the creases and his eyes widen at the poor condition of his pages. That’s how many times he’s stopped reading, interrupted by work or other activities. “I heard that it’s bad to fold the pages of your books too often. This one isn’t in very good shape, either.”

            Wu Fan smiles. “Thanks Chanyeol, I’ll start using this from now on.” He flips the flimsy bookmark around, and finds his name embroidered in tiny gold lettering at the bottom. ‘KRIS’. His eyes widen in surprise, and he looks to Chanyeol, who has his tongue held between his teeth.

            “So you won’t lose it,” he says cheekily. At that moment, somebody calles Wu Fan’s name. It’s Luhan.

            “Hey, Duizhang, your turn. The set’s pretty awesome this time,” he says, out of breath and smiling. Wu Fan looks to his book and is about to fold the page’s corner before he realizes the bookmark in his hands. Chanyeol watches him intently, clearing his throat. Wu Fan smiles, and places the bookmark in between the pages, closing it slowly and handing it to Chanyeol.

            “Okay,” he says. “Thanks again. Take care of this for me?”

            Chanyeol nods. “Leave it to me. I’ll make sure no one lays a finger on it!”

            “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that!” Wu Fan hears Lu Han retort as he walks away. He smiles, almost reaching the end of the hall before he hears the clatter of a metal stool falling to the ground and the muffled grunts and ‘ow’s of two people who have fallen to the ground. The corner of his lips twitch slightly in irritation, and he doesn’t turn around.

He also decides to forget the sound of paper ripping.

- -

            Wu Fan returns to his room later that night to find three more bookmarks and a new copy of Into the Wild lying on his bed. A hurriedly scribbled post-it note is stuck to its cover, reading “sOrrY” in messy English. Wu Fan smiles, dropping the book to pick up the three bookmarks. They’re the same kind of bookmark as the one he received before, skinny silk strips with tassels at their ends, although each of them is a different color: Purple, Green, and Red. He fans them out and turns them around, only to find his name embroidered in the same style with the same golden thread.

            “Baekhyun dropped that off earlier,” Jongdae says from his own bed. He’s lying on his stomach, legs swinging back and forth. Wu Fan catches his Chinese edition of Waiting by Ha Jin in Jongdae’s hands. “Didn’t say what they were for, though. I’m guessing shenanigans ensued earlier today? Probably had to do with one of the maknaes?”

            Wu Fan shrugs, placing the bookmarks neatly next to the new book. It smells of newly pressed pages and too much cologne, probably Lu Han’s. He turns to his closet, grabbing the nearest pieces of clothing in preparation for a shower. “Maybe I’ll ask Baekhyun tomorrow.” He lies. “Hey, have you seen my one shirt with the union ja—“ Wu Fan turns around to find Jongdae snoring loudly, faking his sleep. Strips of blue, white and red peek out from underneath his chest, and he’s hugging the edges bed excessively tightly. Wu Fan pauses for a moment before walking out of the room. He decides to make a rulebook that applies to his belongings, and writes the first two rules in his head.

1)Do not borrow Duizhang’s clothes without permission. No, make that do not borrow Duizhang’s anything without permission.

2)Do not touch Duizhang’s books unless you are Jongdae, Junmyeon, Minseok, or the cleaning lady.

3)Do not RIP Duizhang’s books. Ripping books results in penalties so terrible they cannot be written down. Reimbursements as an apology are accepted.

- -

            Ever since the ‘List of rules regarding Wu Fan’s stuff’ had been tacked onto the M dorm’s wall, Wu Fan has received a bookmark quickly shoved into his hands by Chanyeol every other day. The boy would mutter a “sorry” in accented English before scurrying away, and Wu Fan didn’t know whether to cringe or say thank you.

            The rules were revealed two months ago. Wu Fan is pretty sure that he has enough bookmarks to sew a small quilt with.

            The bookmarks he receives are different everyday. The silk strips came in every color of the rainbow for the first two weeks, followed by paper ones with childish illustrations on their fronts, then an assortment of cardboard and leather rectangles of odd sizes with random words and quotes splayed on their faces. He goes to Baekhyun one day, hands carrying a pile of multicolored bookmarks Chanyeol had suddenly shoved into his chest before running away, and asks tiredly,

            “What is he doing?”

            Baekhyun looks up from his computer, sat next to a sewing machine (since when did Baekhyun sew?), eyes moving from Wu Fan’s face to the pile of bookmarks in his arms to the open door. He stands up and walks past Wu Fan, crossing his arms.

            “First, how did you get in here? Did Kyungsoo leave the door unlocked again? I swear, if that man calls himself the most responsible member again I will… You know what, let’s leave that for later. What do you mean?”

            “I mean,” Wu Fan turns around slowly to face the door. “What is this?! I don’t even know if I have enough books for each one of these, I don’t need this many, I… What is going on?”

            Baekhyun smiles and walks to Chanyeol’s bed, sitting in an Indian seat at its end and crumpling its covers. Wu Fan’s mind dawdles for a moment and he wonders if Jongdae ever does that on his bed. Baekhyun pats a space beside him, and Wu Fan hesitates before he sits down.

            “He’s probably just scared that you’re angry at him, or something.”

            “Why would I be angry at him?”

            “I don’t know, I’m pretty sure that rule list thing, whatever you want to call it, scared him though. I remember hearing him whimper apologies to you in his sleep for a few nights after that came out. Something about you not burning him with your superhuman pyromagicks, or something like that. It’s probably a video game thing.”

            Wu Fan pauses. “Chanyeol dreams about me? And I was kidding about the ‘unspeakable punishment’, you know that right.”

            Baekhyun scoffs. “Oh, please. Anybody can tell that you of all people aren’t capable of hurting anyone, let alone someone you care about. But you do have to remember that Chanyeol’s more of a kid than Sehun will probably ever be. Which is pretty sad, actually…”

            “You know,” Wu Fan says, holding up the bookmarks. “I still don’t know what to do with these.”

            “I don’t know, keep them to give away secretly as gifts? Start a collection?  Make a mosaic? These things are yours, not mine.” Baekhyun shrugs as he bends down and picks up two felt bookmarks which had fallen to the ground. He places them distastefully at the top of Wu Fan’s messy pile. “Oh, and if you want them to stop coming, you might as well try talking to Chanyeol. I’m sure he’d like that.”

            “I talk to him everyday. Well, when I can catch him, that is… Alright, I guess that’s not everyday.”

            “Sit him down, make him a coffee, talk for longer than just four or five seconds. Oh, and don’t chase him away. That will never stop the infinite amount of bookmarks.” Baekhyun stands up and helps Wu Fan to his feet, hands reinforcing the others’ arms.

            “Thank you, Baekhyun. I don't exactly know for what, but I’ll try talking to him.”

            Baekhyun winks and Wu Fan shivers. “No problem. Now get out, I’m in the middle of something important. Shoo, shoo!” A pair of hands force Wu Fan out of the room and he has the door slammed in his face. He calls out for Baekhyun but decides not to persist after he hears queer giggles from behind the door. He turns around and walks away, and decides that he really doesn’t want to know.

- -

            Wu Fan decides that he will catch Chanyeol and not let him go until he gets the bookmarks to stop the next time the boy approaches him with one of the strips in his hands. The wait isn’t long, though. Only two days after Wu Fan’s talk with Baekhyun, Chanyeol knocks on Wu Fan and Jongdae’s door, nervously clutching a bookmark between sweaty palms. Wu Fan opens the door because Jongdae is who knows where, and before Chanyeol can dash off before dropping a sweat-stained bookmark in Wu Fan’s hands (which will eventually fall to the floor due to either him missing his mark entirely or Wu Fan being grossed out by the soiled piece of fabric), Wu Fan grabs his wrist and pulls him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

            Chanyeol turns, stiff as a plank, eyes wide and fearful, and he chuckles nervously.

            “H—hi hyung I hope you like the bookmarks I got them especially for you please don’t kill me.”

            Wu Fan stops, blinks once or twice, and smiles slightly.

            “I’m not going to kill you.”

            Chanyeol’s body relaxes instantly.

            “You’re not.”

            “Nope.”

            “You’re not?”

            This is when Wu Fan laughs, and it reminds Chanyeol of the first time he heard an ice cream truck or the sound of the bell signaling the end of school. Happiness, Chanyeol thinks, and he smiles. Wu Fan redeems himself, clutching his stomach, before taking a seat on his bed. He looks to Chanyeol, still standing beside the door, smiling awkwardly, and pats the space next to him. Chanyeol approaches him slowly, cautiously, and Wu Fan wonders if he’s really that intimidating. All of a sudden the boy hops onto the bed beside him, and moves into an Indian seat. Kris smirks, that looks familiar.

            “So,” he begins. Chanyeol stares at him, curious. “Baekhyun told me.”

            Chanyeol’s eyes widen and his lips part slightly. “Um. What?”

            “He told me about why—“

            “HE TOLD YOU?”

            “What?” Wu Fan is taken aback as Chanyeol stands up all of a sudden, pacing in between Jongdae’s bed and his own.  “Yeah, he told me you’re—“

            “I don’t like you.”

            “—a bit intimidated by. Wait. What?”

            “I d—don’t… like you, hyung. He’s lying.”

            There’s an awkward silence. Chanyeol stands with his hands in fists, eyes on the floor, and Wu Fan wonders if the world is playing with his ears.

            “Um, that’s not what I. Was going to say but. I.

            Okay.”

            Obviously, Baekhyun is not the one lying here. Obviously, this is why Baekhyun winked creepily after suggesting that Wu Fan talk to Chanyeol for a longer period of time. Obviously, Wu Fan concludes, Chanyeol likes me.

            Wu Fan watches as Chanyeol inches slowly towards the door, feet shifting backwards awkwardly, making rough noises against the carpet floor. Wu Fan waits for it, for the awkward stumble or for the banging of his heel against Jongdae’s bed.

            It comes sooner than he expected.

            Wu Fan helps Chanyeol, who was hissing accented English curse words in pain, up and onto his bed, kneeling in front of him to survey his injury. A purple shade in the shape of a deformed Moby had appeared on Chanyeol’s skin. Wu Fan clicks his tongue, and looks up at Chanyeol, who was one eye closed, teeth clenched.

            “It’s a small bruise. But it’ll heal fast. You’ll be fine.”

            “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spring this up on you. Not like this…” Chanyeol sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Why do I always mess things up?”

            Wu Fan smiles, standing to ruffle chocolate brown hair. “You’re not a screw up.”

            “Yeah, I kind of am. I had this moment planned out in my head, you know? I’d give you a bunch of bookmarks and in the end we’d sort them into colors together and I’d spell out the words ‘I ♥ U’ in red and black and blue because you like blue and I like black and red is mandatory…”

            Wu Fan would say he was surprised, but if anything, something like this wouldn’t be surprising if coming from Chanyeol. Not at all. In fact, Wu Fan actually finds it kind of sweet, like that one moment in Romeo and Juliette where they meet on the balcony and all is perfect if only for a moment. Then again, Romeo and Juliette is a tragedy, so he probably shouldn’t compare them to something like that. For once, Wu Fan thinks, he’d like to believe in a happy ending before the story comes to a close.

            “Well,” he says, resting a hand on Chanyeol’s knee. “Lets get to it, shall we?”

            Chanyeol looks up and smiles, messy hair and all, and Wu Fan comes to a realization that “Hey, you really look like Huckleberry Finn.” The one in my imagination, at least, Wu Fan decides to leave out.

            “Like Huckawho what?”

            Wu Fan shakes his head, and smiles. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

- -

            “Here they are. All of them.”

            “Holy .”

            Chanyeol and Wu Fan are hovering above a cardboard box, filled to the brim with small strips of paper and fabric, decorated by English phrases, words and pictures, half of which make absolutely no sense (“It’s all I could get, we live in Korea!” Chanyeol defended himself earlier)

            “This is… all of them?”

            “Every single one.”

            “Wow. I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t know I was that excessive. I still find it a wonder that you actually agreed to us being. You know.” Chanyeol giggles.

            “Actually,” Wu Fan interrupts, “I’m missing one. You remember the first one you ever gave to me? That blue silk one. I still don’t have that one. I’m afraid I lost it.”

            “Oh!” Chanyeol grins mischeviously, fishing into the back of his jeans pocket. “I was saving that one for a special occasion.”

            He pulls it out, the silk slightly wrinkled and the tassel messy and loose, but it’s the one, and Wu Fan reminisces as he feels the fabric against his skin.

            “Special occasion?” he asks, and Chanyeol takes his hand, turning it around to show the embroidered bottom.

            The gold thread has kept its luster, although slightly loose and flimsy for his name. However, something has been added beside it, in the same thread, shifted slightly upwards in it’s imperfection.

            “I worked hard on that,” Chanyeol grins cheekily, and Wu Fan recalls the sewing machine beside Baekhyun’s bed, and oh. I get it.

            “KRIS & CHAnYEoL” has replaced the single name at the bookmark’s bottom, and Wu Fan smiles. He pulls Chanyeol into a headlock, ruffling his hair as the other begs for mercy.

            “You’re stuck with me for now, Huck.”

            “How about forever? And I still don’t get it, who is this Huck guy you keep talking about?! Is he from Canada?”

            Chanyeol is artless; naïve and stupid, clumsy, and smiles too much. Chanyeol is everything Wu Fan is not. That’s probably why he’s so attracted in the first place.

            Either that, or it’s his uncanny resemblance to the Huckleberry Finn of his dreams. Still, he wouldn’t have him any other way.

a.n. omg what is this I don’t even know ;_; I’m sorry if you’ve gotten to the end, 
this is a mess, and it’s my first exo fic and I don’t know what to do T v T;;
krisyeol are perfect and secret lovers and I adore them. I also adore literate
wufan, but unfortunately, I don't find myself to be as smart as him and don't think I
will ever be.

this was inspired by the song aoi shiori, hence the blue bookmark! Ufufufufu.
I don’t even know where the inspiration came from. I guess its because I thought
there really must be something off about Chanyeol, That weirdo.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed! I haven’t written in a long time, and this is super
rusty and not even beta’d but I hope you liked it ;v;!