it is indeed short, but it had to be. i think. all of you who take time reading this, i love you. even if you don't like it. again, i'm sorry for to make you always wait so long for one of these things. 

Speechless in front of such a quick surrender, Zitao is at loss of words for a moment. Jongdae studies his face with a small tired smile and sighs.

“Come on, let's get comfortable while you get your brain cell to work on formulating questions” Jongdae slides off his shoes and lays face up on the bed. Zitao follows him, making sure to leave a comfortable distance between them.

“So... Chanyeol?” Tao starts, eyes fixed on the ceiling. It's not the first thing on the list of 'Things that confuse me about the Life of Kim Jongdae', but it seems the most harmless at the moment.

Jongdae barks out a laugh, it's a bit scratchy and very very unattractive, with the way it makes Jongdae's face scrunch up in a mockery of what a smiling face should look like. “Chanyeol was my boyfriend, the boyfriend. Like the first one I thought I could spend the rest of my life with”

Tao scoots a little further from Jongdae, so that he can see him better, the way he squints at the memories playing out on the ceiling. “He was nice, I guess. The obnoxious kind of nice, but he picked up my mess and could cook pretty well, he was the sun behind the thunderous clouds of my social ineptitude, as someone once said”

The thing, Jongdae explains, was that Chanyeol wanted a big big house in the countryside with a big dog and a big apple tree. He wanted a all round patio and a music room to compose and blue covers on their bed to make them sleep better, because blue it's a calming color and Jongdae was always too wound up on himself to really relax.

“Then we broke up and I got the invitation for this wedding and in the end I couldn't think of coming here alone, so here you are, my handsome caretaker” Jongdae finishes with one of his best smirks, the sadness that was crushing him moments ago seemingly gone.

“What happened?” Tao asks, turning on his side so that he is facing Jongdae. He's stepping inside unknown territory, in a place that he didn't even want to get close to not even two days ago. Jongdae was one piece of sass, irony and full of thorns and that was fine, it kept them at a certain distance, but it's not easy not to want to take a look inside once you see the cracks.

“The kind of boring stuff that gets you hungry” Jongdae says, curling on himself “Call room-service”

“There is no room-service, Jongdae, did you listen to what the receptioni-...”

Jongdae scoffs, clearly displeased, but then his lips curl into a smile and Tao knows that whatever comes next he won't like, but will have to follow anyway.

“Then let's go get food” Jongdae

“We just ate a five course meal, what more do you want to stuff in that poor stomach of yours?”

Jongdae, though, like the selective deaf he is, has already buried his nose inside Tao's suitcase. “I didn't invest so much in your wardrobe to remain coped up in this room, darling”

Not even bothering to put up a fight, Tao just extends his hand ready to catch whatever Jongdae decides to thrown at him, namely leather pants and a flimsy white shirt with a very large neck. Zitao shimmies out of his dress slacks right where he is, trying with all his might not to think about what exactly Jongdae is going to do with all this new information about the 'planes and curves' of his body. He finds strength in the idea of fire coming out of Yifan's nostrils if he were to drop out of this.

“Town is half-an-hour away” Jongdae says. “Go get the car and wait for me at the front”

The reception hall is almost empty, save for a few guests who seem engrossed in a very interesting conversation, that has them whisper lowly. Watching them out of the corner of his eye, Tao straightens his back and marches towards the reception where the nice lady that checked them in has been substituted by an elderly man who looks at him with a lot more judgment that Zitao would have expected.

“I need to get my car” Zitao says, chanting in his head like a mantra remain in character remain in character.

“Your car, sir?” the receptionist rises a brow and Zitao is now sure he is being judged. Very hard. High maintenance fiance is a heavy title, but the silver band on his ring finger makes an honest man out of him, and if Jongdae likes to dote on him and dress him up like a mannequin is none of this man business or Jongdae's family business or anyone's business.

“Yes, please. Room 304. It's... ” he says putting on his best serial killer look.

The receptionist, though, is undeterred and cuts him off by ringing up the garage ordering for Mr. Kim's car to be brought up front.