“Jongin!”

                Jongin turns around and gives a blinding smile as Kyungsoo jogs up to him. “Hey Kyungsoo.”

                “You heading to your next class?” Kyungsoo asks, breath fogging up the crisp morning air.

                “Yeah, I was. You’re going the same way, right?”

                Kyungsoo blushes faintly and nods, falling into step next to Jongin as they begin walking across the courtyard. There’s a few moments silence, and then Kyungsoo glances down. “How come you’ve only got one glove on?”

                “Sehun forgot his and said something about friends sharing stuff before he ripped it off and ran away with it,” Jongin sighs.

                “Isn’t it cold?”

                “Yeah, I—”

                Jongin chokes on the rest of his sentence because he suddenly feels Kyungsoo’s hand slip into his, squeezing his fingers to warm them up. He has to put all of his focus into keeping his legs steady because they were suddenly feeling way too weak to be holding up all of his weight, and he starts overheating despite the cold. In fact, it doesn’t take long before Jongin can feel his palm sweating in Kyungsoo’s grasp, and something between embarrassment and mortification has Jongin retracting his hand from Kyungsoo’s before he tries to wipe it on his jeans as discretely as possible.

                Kyungsoo looks away, but not before Jongin catches the crestfallen look on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t realize…”

                “No, it’s fine!” Jongin shouts hurriedly, then clamps his mouth shut for a moment for yelling so loud. “I mean…I didn’t want you to hold my hand while it was all sweaty and gross.”

                Kyungsoo blinks up at him in surprise for a moment before his face slowly relaxes, relieved, and he reaches out to grab Jongin’s hand again. “I don’t mind,” he says, and the sunlight catches in his eyes as he smiles up at him.

                Jongin melts on the inside.

—∞—

                Halloween for Jongin begins in his nine o’clock lecture on literature and film from 1890 to World War II, when roughly twenty minutes in he hears the doors at the back of the room swing open rather loudly—whoever was entering was making no attempt to be discreet about walking in late. He doesn’t turn around, however, too drowsy to care at first because he had had to get up at six-thirty to be here and too preoccupied with wondering how the hell the girl two rows in front of him managed to get her hands on a Starbucks cup, until he hears a general murmur of surprise rift through the crowd, at which point he instinctively looks up and behind him to see what the commotion is.

                Standing at the very back of the lecture hall in all its fuzzy-brown glory is a huge life-sized Domo. It was an impressive costume, and Jongin could only wonder how much the person inside had to pay for the thing. Domo doesn’t do anything, doesn’t move around or walk down to take a seat, just stands there stoically.

                The professor takes an extraordinary amount of time to notice it; she continues lecturing at first despite the ever-growing noise of giggles and whispers cutting through her words, and Jongin keeps looking back and forth between the teacher and Domo, waiting to see who would make a move first. Eventually the professor, noticing that the much of the attention from her students had been drawn to something else, follows their gazes and spots Domo, and she stares at him open-mouthed for a few seconds, taking in the beady black eyes and wide mouth filled with pointed teeth.

                “Hello,” she calls out finally.

                Domo lifts a hand and waves once.

                “And who might you be?”

                Domo doesn’t respond; instead he turns and slowly begins walking across the back of the lecture hall, not reacting to any calls of his name or hands lifted to give him a high-five. One person actually jumps out of his seat and runs over to Domo with his arms thrown out for a hug, but Domo just keeps walking, until he finally hits the opposite end of the lecture hall and silently exits through the other set of doors.

                Just then Jongin’s phone vibrates with a text, and it’s from Luhan.

                Happy Halloween! Kekekeke~

                Jongin rolls his eyes. Figures.

                “Hey, can I leave for like two seconds and just—”

                “No.”

                “But I really want to—”

                “No. Stay here.”

                “But—”

                “Dude, you are not going over to play Just Dance with the video game club!” Kris snaps.

                “But I would totally pwn them at it,” Chanyeol whines.

                “I know you would, which is why I’m not letting you do it. You have the bloody game at home, play it on your own time. They’re gonna be up soon.”

                There’s an impressive turnout from the clubs today in the Meeting Place, a weird name for the large open square on the east end of the science wing, right before you hit the humanities building. It was commonly used for housing events such as these, where several clubs had tables set up and the landing on the lower part of the wide staircase has been transformed into a stage.

                Jongin is the only one fidgeting. Sehun and Yixing are standing completely relaxed next to him, and everyone minus Kyungsoo, Baekhyun and Luhan (Kyungsoo because he was still unloading the mints from Kris’ car, Luhan because he was still playing Domo and Baekhyun—well no one actually knew where he was) were also hanging around in the general area, scouring the various booths for free candy and the like.

                “These mints actually aren’t that bad,” Chanyeol says as he pops his fifth one, dressed in an entirely-suitable giraffe onesie.

                “Would you stop eating those? They’re supposed to be for the people.”

                “Right now the people are pretty low on my priorities list.”

                “Hey, hey, hey, motherers,” a familiar voice calls then, and everyone turns to see Baekhyun approaching with a wide grin on his face and a large cardboard box clamped between two fabric-covered hands, and it finally hits Jongin as he draws closer that he’s wearing a Sergeant Keroro onesie.

                Joonmyun waves. “Were you helping Kyungsoo with the mints?”

                “Nope, these aren’t mints.” Baekhyun puts the box down at his feet and opens the flaps up before pulling something out of it. “Ta-da! I got us custom-designed sweatshirts!”

                “You what?” Kris snatches the fabric out of Baekhyun’s hands and examines it, while everyone else crowds in to inspect it as well. “When did this happen?”

                “About a week ago?”

                “Wait,” Jongdae looks up, narrowing his eyes, “is that why you randomly started creeping up on all of us a little while ago and started checking our clothes tags? Without giving us any rational explanation for your behaviour, I might add?”

                “Hey, if I’d just asked for your sizes like a normal person, you guys would’ve asked me ‘why’ instead of ‘what,’” Baekhyun argues. “Better to creep you out then get you suspicious.”

                “I really don’t see how that is in any shape or form the better option.”

                Joonmyun slowly looks up at Baekhyun. “You know, Baekhyun, these seem to be some really good quality sweatshirts.”

                “Yep. American Apparel, motherers.”

                “How exactly did you pay for this?”

                Baekhyun shrugs. “Used the club’s deposit.”

                “And you did consult Luhan about this, right?” Yixing demands.

                “Uh, no?”

                Now everyone had their eyes Baekhyun. “Dude,” Jongdae breathes, looking genuinely terrified on Baekhyun’s behalf, “Luhan is going to skin you—”

                “Oh, there’s Kyungsoo,” Sehun says then, and Jongin immediately looks towards where Sehun’s looking, and spots Kyungsoo approaching with another box of the mints they’d ordered. His heart leaps a little bit at the sight of him because Kyungsoo’s got a pair of black cat ears on and someone had painted a pink nose and white whiskers on his face, and he just looked so…so…squishable.

                “Hey guys,” Kyungsoo says, holding up the box. “I’ve got the mints.”

                Jongdae checks his watch. “Luhan should be back any second so hand him the box as soon as he does.”

                “We’re up next,” Minseok calls out then as he walks by in passing.

                Kris throws a glance in Baekhyun’s direction. “We’ll cast a protection spell or something on you later. For now, though, get ready bring the house down,” Kris says, before bounding towards the microphone to introduce the group.

                “UTSC, how’s everyone doing!” he yells, and the crowd responds with surprising enthusiasm.

                “I can’t tell if the crowd is genuinely excited or Kris is just really popular,” Jongin says, tilting his head to one side.

                “It’s definitely Kris. He’s kind of a party animal. You never get this kind of response from crowd hype,” Kyungsoo says, before looking over at Jongin. “You ready?”

                “Kind of have to be.”

                “You’ll be fine. Break a leg,” Kyungsoo says, patting Jongin’s shoulder. “I’ll be here watching.”

                The simple promise brings some ease to Jongin, and he relaxes a bit at the thought. “Okay,” he says, smiling.

                “Wait wait wait, put the sweatshirts on, put the sweatshirts on!” Baekhyun cuts in, tossing one at Jongin, Yixing and Sehun each.

                “How are you not petrified for you safety right now—?”

                “Ladies in gentlemen, I present to you EXO’s very own dancers!”

                The crowd cheers as Kris gives the stage away to the three of them, and Jongin manages to throw on the sweatshirt as he trails after Yixing and Sehun onto the stage, Sehun being the most energetic as he grins and waves out at the large crowd surrounding the hoard of club tables.

                “Come to think of it, have we actually seen Sehun dance?” Minseok asks with a frown, as he joins Kris and the others, trailing Tao behind him.

                “Nope, but I’ve heard he’s good, which had better be true.”

                Wiz Khalifa’s “Word Hard Play Hard” comes over the speakers, and the three boys on stage start warming up into the beat, working into the build-up, and then Sehun steps forward just as Khalifa drops his rap; just like that, Sehun is an explosion of limbs and precision, emanating a kind of power and presence that was completely uncharacteristic of him. And he was good. It was the kind of dancing bred from talent rather than experience; his body moved with a natural fluidity that immediately distinguished the two, leaving no doubt as to which category Sehun belonged to.

                “Holy ,” Jongdae’s eyes nearly fall out. “Where the did that come from?!”

                “YEAH SEHUNNNNN!” Baekhyun screams, and the crowd quickly followed suit to Baekhyun’s fangirling, as a series of whoops and cheers begin to rise out of the crowd.

                Yixing switches over halfway through the rap, and there’s a strange sort of grace that underlies the sturdy hip-hop when he moves, in comparison to Sehun’s heavy deliverance, but he elicits a similar response from the crowd all the same, and then when the chorus comes Jongin and Sehun step forward and the three of them begin to move in sync to the choreography Yixing put together. The crowd’s screams rise in volume and vitality with them.

                “‘Lazy formation’ my , Yixing’s a ing genius,” Chanyeol bursts out, stunned.

                “Yixing can be full of surprises,” Joonmyun agrees. “But their talent is no joke either. You hit the jackpot with those two first-years, Tao.”

                “Damn straight,” Tao responds appreciatively.

                The chorus ends, and Sehun and Yixing step back as the song begins building up to the second verse, and Jongin swaggers to the front, a slow smirk working across his face as he does so. His dark eyes are smouldering from beneath his fringe, body exuding hot waves of uality, and he bites down on his lower lip seductively before the second verse bursts.

                Jongin hip-hopping is nothing like Jongin jazz-freestyling. When he had danced to Yixing’s demo tape, he had been elegant, intense, emotional, a swan in flight. This Jongin was completely different; he seemed to have limbs made of steel one moment and then fluid as water the next, and he exuded such incredible confidence and charisma that it was almost impossible to think that it could be the same person as the boy who blushed and smiled out of awkwardness from the clubroom. He was vigorous, he was demanding, full of force and strength and aggressiveness, and it was incredibly overwhelming to watch but nobody gave a damn.

               “Holy ing —”

               “GO JONGIN!” Baekhyun’s screaming again and this time he’s not alone; Kyungsoo, Jongdae, Tao, and Chanyeol are screaming shamelessly right along with him, creating Jongin’s own personal cheerleading team within seconds, almost drowning out—almost—the screaming that was coming from the crowd.

               When Sehun and Yixing step back in and the three of them finish off the song together, the crowd is absolutely nuts. The three of them stand there, panting, and Jongin shakes off his dancing persona and looks up with his usual dorky Jongin smile.

               “That was like watching a ing werewolf transformation,” Jongdae says in awe. “Jongin’s a total beast on stage.”

               “Too bad it doesn’t transfer to the bed,” Tao says in a low voice so that Kyungsoo wouldn’t hear, and Baekhyun stifles his laughter.

               Just as the three boys began walking offstage, Domo suddenly runs in from out of nowhere with the box of mints Kyungsoo had been holding earlier and began chucking the mints by the handful into the crowd without a care, and Kris steps up to the mic one last time and yells “CHECK OUT OUR WEBSITE CAUSE IT’S SUPER ING DOPE” before running offstage again to avoid being pelted by mints.

              “Wow, great marketing slogan, Kris,” Tao says with excess sarcasm as Kris runs over to join them.

              “Shut the up before I eat you, Tao.”

              “…What?”

              “What?”

              “You guys were ing awesome!” Chanyeol interrupts excitedly as Yixing, Sehun and Jongin join the rest of them.

              “Most of the credit goes to Yixing for that one,” Jongin says, still breathing a bit heavily but the grin is still there.

              Kris slaps Sehun upside the head. “That’ll do, pig.”

              “…That is like the worse praise I’ve ever heard.”

              Everyone takes turns patting the dancers and throwing in their two cents’ praise before Jongin is finally pushed not-so-subtly by the others into Kyungsoo’s direction. “Spiked ,” Jongdae whispers loudly, which Jongin chooses to ignore.

              “How was it? Did I look okay?” Jongin asks sheepishly.

              “You were perfect,” Kyungsoo beams up at him, and Jongin could’ve hugged him for that but he suddenly feels someone—or something—bump into him from behind, and he turns to see Domo towering over him.

              “Alright, Luhan, I know you’re in there, so you can just—”

              “ me,” came the growl from between Domo’s teeth.

              “What?”

              “At the back. me. Do it. Now.”

              And the moment he registers the low murderous tone to Luhan’s muffled voice Jongin remembers the sweatshirts that he, Yixing and Sehun were still donning, with the EXO logo sitting smack in the middle of the back in all of its big fat glory, and in that moment he’s not sure which concerns him more, Baekhyun’s safety or being Luhan’s new target for the near volcanic eruption that was about to ensue.

              Before Jongin could open his mouth, though, Kyungsoo, the only one who had completely missed out on the earlier conversation, reaches out for the zipper without hesitation. “Here, let me get that for you—”

              “KYUNGSOO NO—!”

              “BAEKHYUN YOU LITTLE SPIT,” Luhan screams, bursting out of the Domo costume with record speed, blond hair plastered to his forehead from sweating inside the costume and eyes wild with rage.

              “Oh ” is Baekhyun’s last words before he turns on his heel and bolts into the crowd, and Luhan is right on his tail, screeching at the top of his lungs for all to hear.

              “You blew six hundred ing bucks on a bunch of ing sweatshirts, do you realize that?! Pay it back right now before I chop you up and turn you into chew toys for my mother’s poodle!”

              “My baby!” Chanyeol yells, running after them into the crowd to try and keep Luhan from totally shredding Baekhyun up.

              Kyungsoo turns towards the others, looking horrified. “What’s going on? What did I do?”

              “Dude, control your boyfriend,” Kris shoves on Sehun’s arm.

              Sehun shoves back, “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, !”

              “What the ? I didn’t even insult him—”

              “YOU WANNA GO, HUH?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT—?!”

              Joonmyun reaches out at that moment and deftly pulls on Sehun’s ear, earning a small yelp of pain and Sehun’s immediate submittance. “Sehun,” Joonmyun says calmly, “please go control your boyfriend before we end up with a body to bury underneath Jongin’s kitchen.”

              “Wait, why my kitchen?”

              “Okay, okay!” Sehun wiggles out of Joonmyun’s grip, and within seconds the Meeting Place becomes the scene of a fierce four-way chase with screaming from all parties, amongst the many bystanders who watched with mouths hanging open as they weaved and pushed their way through the many booths scattered in the open space.

              Kyungsoo, still looking concerned, steps forward hesitantly as he starts, “Maybe I should—”

              “No, I really think you shouldn’t,” Jongin says quickly, grabbing Kyungsoo’s arm to prevent him from entering the battlefield.

              “Where did Luhan even buy this thing?” Yixing asks, toeing the abandoned Domo costume as the remainder of the club watches the chase without any indication of moving to stop them anytime soon.

              “Probably lugged it back from China or something. China makes like everything.”

              “I’d say that was racist but it’s actually too true,” Kris says over the three mints he’s thrown into his mouth at once.

              “Dude, take it easy on the mints, your mouth smells like a pine forest.”

              “…”

              “What?” Tao asks as Kris, Minseok, Jongdae and Yixing all turn to look at him.

              “Mints and pine forests are two completely different things, Tao.”

              Tao furrows his brows. “Really?”

              “Yes, really.”

              “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!!”

              “Oh look, Quirrell’s joined in.”

A/N

Okay so here's the thing

The next update might come a little later than it should, partly because I'm going to be busy with summer school papers and dinners and other matters, but also because I'm kind of sensing that this fic is coming to an end soon. I know, definitely not one of the longest chaptered fanfics ever, but it's been a good experience writing this and now that I feel that it's almost over I want to take the time to really plan the ending out well and give it a clean resolution. (But of course it'll have a little epilogue and whatnot)

Well good day everyone pleasedontkillme