“You’ve been staring at that box since you got home,” Yixing points out in a bored drawl from where he’s lazily sprawled across Lu Han’s bed. “A present from your boyfriend?”

Something that feels like the first blooming of flowers in the spring sends butterflies into a frenzy in Lu Han’s gut. It’s uncomfortable to say the least. He’s never had a crush on someone — it was sort of hard to when most of his time as a teen was spent studying and ‘shadowing’ his father’s company staff — and knowing he has more than platonic feelings for someone is weird. He always imagined he would go through life without ever feeling such a thing as affection and die bitter and alone.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he replies without any of the usual acid in his voice. It’s true through. He’s been leaning up against the countertop island for the past thirty minutes, staring at this box as if it’s going to tell him what to do about how his heart beats like he’s running a marathon every time Minseok so much as smiles at him — as if it’s going to tell him what to do about how Minseok may not be his boyfriend but he wants him to be. But the more he looks at it, the more he thinks he’s going to go insane.

Yixing sits up with a curious ‘oh?’, his eyebrows raised. “You sound disappointed. Finally accepted that you want him?”

Finally taking his eyes off the box, Lu Han walks out of the small kitchen and to his closet that sits in the far corner of his room. Extracting a pair of sweatpants, he tosses them over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower. Get the off my bed.”

“A shower, huh?”

Lu Han misses the way Yixing wiggles his brows suggestively but the tone of his voice alone serves to piss him off. Stopping just in front of the door, he takes a breath to steady himself.

It doesn’t work and when he finally locks the bathroom door behind him and starts the showers, his hand aches and the sound of running water doesn’t quite drown out Yixing’s complaints over his new split lip.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Minseok taps the home button on his phone and pushes his lips out the slightest bit when he sees there is still no change from twenty minutes ago. He sighs heavier than he means to as he drops his phone onto the couch for it to be eaten by the cushions and stretches length-wise, head and toes perched on opposite arm rests. He’s bored and would normally be recording games but Jongdae is in the kitchen cooking dinner and he promised he wouldn’t work tonight because it’s been a while since the two of them have ‘spent quality time together’ according to Jongdae. The television channel one of them, he doesn’t remember who, turned to is playing some movie from the 90s he isn’t even vaguely interested in watching.

He wonders what Lu Han is doing, considering he hasn’t replied to his text yet. Does he go back to work today? Minseok doesn’t remember if Lu Han specified what day he started at the club again. It’s been two days since the last time they spoke, since Minseok gifted him the cupcakes, so maybe he is preparing to spend his nights mixing drinks after almost a month of vacation time. Minseok almost wants to send another text to ask but figures that if Lu Han hasn’t responded to the first one he should wait; he doesn’t want to seem like he’s eager to be in contact with Lu Han even if he sort of is. The past three weeks of companionship have spoiled him.

He rolls onto his stomach and groans. He feels like a clingy boyfriend who can’t stand to be apart from his partner for more than an hour before getting lonely. They’re not even that close. How did he even get to be so attached to a random Chinese bartender with a handsome face and a personality that in no way should be compatible with his own? This wouldn’t have happened if Lu Han wasn’t so sweet beneath all of the bitter, didn’t seem so sincere in his efforts to understand and befriend him.

Jongdae wanders out of the kitchen with the announcement that dinner will be finished soon and Minseok grunts in response, half of his face pressed into the couch, still lost in his thoughts about his unanswered text.

“What crawled up your and refused to press all the right buttons?” Jongdae quips as he rounds the couch and pushes Minseok’s feet off the arm rest so he can sit.

Minseok tries to kick him but Jongdae grabs his ankle and trails a finger down the ticklish underside of his foot. He yelps and tries to yank his foot back but Jongdae tugs at his leg with a grin that makes Minseok want to shove his feet in his face.

“Has anyone told you your couch smells like eau de cheeks?” Minseok sighs. He turns on his back and props both his feet on Jongdae’s lap.

Jongdae rolls his eyes and pulls Minseok’s big toe. “No, but that sounds like a compliment to me. I think my smells pretty damn good.”

Minseok gags. “You’re weird.”

“Pot, kettle,” Jongdae replies. “But, seriously, what’s up? You usually watch me like a hawk when I’m cooking.”

“I have enough reason to be worried that you’ll slip something into my food. And —” a series of twinkling sounds that make up Minseok’s notification ringtone start to play and he immediately rolls onto his stomach again, ignoring Jongdae’s panicked ‘watch it!’ When he almost kicks the younger man in the face.

His phone hasn’t quite yet been swallowed by the couch, wedged between a cushion and the back of the couch, and he pulls it out to unlock it. He bites back a smile at the 1 new message notification. Lu Han responded! He initially texted Lu Han to complain about how bored he was and to ask if the cupcakes were any good and he chuckles — he doesn’t giggle because that would be weird — because he can easily see the look of displeasure Lu Han probably had on his face as he reads about how he caught Yixing eating one of his cupcakes. While he’s reading he receives another text from Lu Han that says although the desserts are amazing, Minseok needs to stop giving them to him or else he’s going to drag Minseok to the gym with him the next time he goes. Minseok’s exercise regimen consists of him chasing Jongdae down when his best friend does something annoying and he really hates sweating but he has half a mind to buy Lu Han macarons and tell him to bring it on.

As he replies to Lu Han that one: sharing is caring and two: he isn’t afraid of gym equipment (even though he is), a hand comes down on his and suddenly he remembers Jongdae’s existence.

Looking over his shoulder, Minseok looks at Jongdae blankly before sending the message.

“Who are you texting that they’re so important you can’t wait until after you finish talking to me?”  Jongdae frowns.

Swinging his legs off Jongdae’s lap and sitting up properly, Minseok regards Jongdae again and shrugs. “No one.”

The corners of his frown deepening, Jongdae hums disbelievingly. “You don’t giggle over a text from just no one.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes Minseok raise an eyebrow and tilt his head to the side in mild curiosity.

“It was rude of me to check my messages in the middle of our conversation, yes, and I’m sorry but you don’t need to catch an attitude.” He snorts and reaches over to pinch Jongdae’s thigh and when he draws his arm back, Jongdae grabs his hand.

“Just tell me,” Jongdae presses on but where there’s a slight harshness to his tone, his fingers slot between Minseok’s lightly.

Minseok eyebrows pinch together and he reads Jongdae’s face like a book in dim light. “It was Han. Happy?” He slips his hand from Jongdae’s and stands. “What’s up with you today?”

He walks away to the kitchen because Jongdae hasn’t checked on his food in a while which means it’s probably starting to burn. He can hear Jongdae get up and it only a second later there are arms wrapped around his midsection and Jongdae’s chin on his shoulder.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks and when we are finally together you throw me away as soon as some sends you a text. Can you blame me for not being okay with that?”

“Yes, I can, actually.” Minseok rolls his eyes and continues to the kitchen, used to having to get around with Jongdae hanging all over him. “Because I ignore you all the time and you get back at me by turning into a lap dog and being over affectionate. You get mad at me over a lot of things but the amount of attention I give you is not one of them.”

“Well,” Jongdae his teeth, “when you usually do it you don’t giggle over another guy’s text.”

Minseok peels himself out of Jongdae’s hold to turn the heat on the stove to its lowest setting. “So what you’re saying is: you were jealous,” he concludes as he turns to pick out bowls for their stew. “And I didn’t giggle.”

“You giggled.” Jongdae grumbles. “And pushed me aside for Lu Han of all people.”

“You don’t even know him.” Minseok fills a bowl and hands it to Jongdae.

“He’s rude and gets in fights with everyone. He punched me!”

“If you threw up on me I probably would have swung at you too.” Once he finishes serving his own portion, Minseok nods his head in the direction of the dining table and they sit across from each other. “I already apologized so you need to stop being so pissy just because I like someone you can’t get along with.”

Jongdae’s spoon is halfway to his mouth when he pauses. “You like him,” he repeats.

Minseok looks at him exasperatedly. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Huffing, Minseok pushes aside his untouched dinner and leans over the table on his elbows. Jongdae tries to lean back into his seat but Minseok catches his collar, yanks him forward, and presses their lips together.

“Don’t push it, Jongdae,” he says low under his breath after flattening his hand against Jongdae’s collarbone and pushing him away. “You can’t continuously force me to be more open and social beyond my gaming friends and then get mad at me when I actually try. But I won’t touch my phone for the rest of the night if that makes you feel better even though I know that’s not what’s bothering you.”

Reclaiming his seat, Minseok picks up his bowl and starts eating. He can see Jongdae staring him out of the corner of his eyes but ignores him. The tension in his shoulders only eases when Jongdae turns his attention to his own dinner.

For five minutes there are no words spoken, just the clank of their silverware against their bowls.
 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Buttoning up his shirt, Lu Han glares at Yixing out of the corner of his eye. His cousin’s cracked lip is satisfying even two days later and Lu Han almost smiles at the sight of it. He doesn’t because the way Yixing has been staring at him only means one thing.

“You’re not coming,” he says as he finishes with the last button and tucks his shirt into his pants. Grabbing his tie, a bright red to contrast his black shirt, he loops it around his neck and starts to tie it.

Yixing groans dramatically and reaches out to grab Lu Han by the shoulders but his cousin evades him. “All I do is lay around. I won’t even bother you.”

“That’s a ing lie and we both know it. The reason for your entire existence is to bother me.”

“Only because you’re so fun to rile up.” Yixing breaks into a grin.

Lu Han rolls his eyes. Once he finishes with his tie, he picks up his phone again. Minseok hasn’t texted him back yet and he wonders if he should tell him that he’s going to work tonight and won’t be available until around three in the morning. His mind conjures the image of Minseok waiting for his reply that won’t come until hours later, constantly checking his phone for sign of a new message before he squashes the daydream. There’s no way Minseok would be so restless over him.

Deciding against sending the text, Lu Han pockets his phone. Brushing his hair back with his hand, he turns around and catches eyes with Yixing.

“I’ll stay on the dance floor the entire time,” Yixing tries to bargain again.

Lu Han stares at him for half a second and heads to the kitchen to pick up his keys. “I’m not even going to call you out on your bull.” He nods his head in the direction of the door. “I don’t wanna be late.”

Lu Han walks through the side entrance of the club fifteen minutes before his shift starts — he left Yixing to take the general entrance — already wanting to go home and go to sleep. The music hits him immediately, bass pounding in the bottom of his throat and reverberating in his knees. He honestly forgot how much he hates clubs.

The staff room is just down the hall and he drops by to check in. It’s a small room that houses a few small lockers — Lu Han own locker holds an extra shirt for those occasions when a patron doesn’t know how to hold their liquor —   a two-seat sofa, and Zhou Mi’s desk.

There is no one there when he walks in but that’s as expected. Zhou Mi usually rounds the premises during the night and, while Lu Han sometimes finds himself working half shifts and taking over in the middle of a typical nine hour shift like tonight, there are usually only two bartenders on duty during a regular shift and they don’t share the same break slots.

He runs into Zhou Mi on the way back out.

"Oh, Lu Han, you're here." Zhou Mi offers a cordial smile and pats him on the shoulder. "It’s good to have you back."

Lu Han resists the urge to do anything else but smile and nod with forced politeness. "Good to be back, Mi," he says, leaving out the 'it would have been better if I never had to leave in the first place' hanging on the tip of his tongue. He's supposed to be changed man, one who isn't hateful and confrontational, and he knows an attitude won't do him any favors right now.

"Tao’s shift is going to end in..." he checks the silver plated watch adorning his wrist. "About fifteen minutes or so."

Glancing down the hall toward the staff entrance leading to the club, Lu Han shifts his weight. "Yeah, I was just about to head over."

Zhou Mi nods and pats Lu Han on his shoulder again. "Take it easy alright. You just got back."

Lu Han raises his hands in defense. "No worries, boss man," he says with an aloof smile that was supposed to look more innocent than it actually does.

Nodding his head in a slight bow at his superior, he starts off toward the bar. As soon as his back is turned, a scowl takes over his face. If Zhou Mi was going to expect him to come back and start then he should have never laid him off in the first place. He wasted three weeks of tips just to continue to be mistrusted anyway.

When he pushes open the door leading to the ground level dance floor and it almost slams into the wall behind it, he pauses to watch it slowly drift back to him. Extending his arm to stop it, palm flat against its surface, he sighs to himself. Maybe his anger has been getting a little out of hand lately. He even kind of blew up at Minseok the last time they met and the very last thing he wants is to scare him off with his temper.

Shaking his head, Lu Han closes the door behind him and continues to the bar. He has to weave through the group of buzzed people hanging around the restrooms but, even though he's been gone for three weeks, it's nothing he isn't used to.

Tao is in the middle of mixing a drink and chatting up a woman  when Lu Han slips behind the counter.

He immediately grabs a cloth and wipes down the spilt liquor and residual condensation.

He glances up when a familiar face slips into the open stool in front of him and scowls.

"Nice to see you too, ," Kris quirks his lips into a smirk half full of amusement.

Rolling his eyes, Lu Han drops the cloth and immediately reaches  for a glass.

"I haven't ordered anything yet."

"It’s not for you," Lu Han replies. As he turns around to hunt down the gin, he finally gains Zitao's attention.

The younger man brightens up immediately and drops everything to run over and sling his arm over Lu Han's shoulders. Lu Han shrugs out of the hold and ignores the whine Zitao makes at receiving the cold shoulder.

"When did you get here?" the younger Chinese man makes a noise of distress. "I’m so sad that I have to clock out in a couple minutes. I haven't seen you in forever," he emphasizes as if they are actually friends or something.

"What a shame," Lu Han drawls monotonously. He finds the gin and pours it into the glass before filling it to the top with tonic, forgoeing a garnish. He immediately downs half of the light mix.

"Already drinking on the job?" Kris raises a brow.

"Already feeling like I want to punch someone," Lu Han sighs.

"That’s fast. It usually takes at least an hour," Tao pipes up before a man with sweat dripping down his brow takes a seat and asks for a glass of water.

Kris watches him step off to the side before fixing his gaze on Lu Han again. "You know I talked to you about seeing someone for your anger."

"It’s not a medical condition, dickhole. And I told you to stay the out of my business." Lu Han lifts the glass to his lips again and raises his eyebrow at Kris, daring him to say something else. He hates having this conversation over and over again. It’s pretty much all they talk about and Lu Han is tired of it.

Kris his brow as well but drops the subject. “So how was your vacation?”

Setting the glass on the counter, Lu Han also rests his palms on the surface. “I wouldn’t call it a vacation but it was alright,” he says, mind immediately conjuring thoughts of Minseok. “Some days were better than others. My cousin is visiting from china.”

A small frown tugs at Kris’ lips before it smooths out into mild disinterest. “Oh really?”

Humming, Lu Han glances at Zitao who bounds over to say that he’s going to clock out and he’s glad Lu Han is back. Lu Han is a decent enough person to smile and wish Zitao a good night before nodding at Kris.

He starts to reply but he catches the familiar figure of the devil approaching the bar and groans quietly.

Yixing slides onto the stool next to Kris and smirks at Lu Han who stares at him blankly.

“I thought you said you were going to stay on the dance floor the entire time.”

“I just wanted some water.” Yixing pouts innocently.

Rolling his eyes, Lu Han grabs a glass. “Kris, my cousin Yixing. Yixing, behave,” he introduces the two before leaving to fetch water for his relative.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Propping his elbow on the bar counter, Yixing gives Yifan a smile that’s all teeth and wicked intention. “What’s cooking, good looking?”

Irritation paints itself on Yifan’s face in the form of a frown that creases the skin between his brows. It makes him look intimidating beneath the dim fluorescent lights but Yixing isn’t afraid of anyone anymore.

“Don’t talk to me,” Yifan grumbles, averting his gaze to the dance floor.

“But you’ve been ignoring my Skype calls!” Yixing whines just loud enough for Yifan to hear, sliding into the taller man’s personal space. He laughs when Yifan clamps his large palm around his shoulder and shoves him back.

He doesn’t hear the glass hit the counter as much as he catches the motion out of the corner of his eye.

“What in the fresh hell are you doing?” Lu Han questions, his eyebrow raised in annoyance as if his child just did something he specifically told them not to.

Before Yixing can answer, Yifan stands and adjusts the rolled-up sleeves of his button-up. He glances down at Yixing. “That’s because I’m not interested,” he says and shifts his attention to Lu Han. “I just remembered I have something to prepare for work tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.”

The pout returns to Yixing’s face as he watches Yifan blend into the crowd but he isn’t as put out as he looks. Instead he’s filled with amusement and it takes everything in him not to start laughing. He grabs the glass of water sitting before him and guzzles half of it down, ignoring the way Lu Han is staring him down.

“Your friend is hot,” he comments once he sets the glass down. “Hook us up.”

Lu Han sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I am not helping you get his .”

Snorting, Yixing shrugs and looks over his shoulder in the direction the Yifan left. “That’s alright. I like a challenge.”

sorry if there are any weird typos/mistakes. i typed half of this on my phone and the other half on a japanese keyboard.

so how can yixing skype call yifan if this is the first time they're meeting? is it even the first time? dundundunnnnn