[title song: paris by camille]

will you van gogh out with me?

“You really can’t dance.” Oh Sehun says, taking one of the seats across from Jongdae, a plastic bowl of cereal in his hands. Jongdae looks up from his sketchbook, eyeing Sehun with disdain, mostly because Jongdae still feels personally offended by Sehun’s new rainbow hair. It’s not art. It’s Sehun tripping into a hair dye factory.

“Yes, I can.” Jongdae tells him, forcefully.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes from beside Jongdae, sipping on a cup of coffee before yawning. Jongdae eyes the coffee cup in annoyance because how many times has he told Baekhyun how ed up Starbucks is? How many ing times? “No, you can’t. And that finger snapping bull does not count.” Baekhyun says, pointedly.

“Oh shut up.” Jongdae mutters, turning back to his sketchbook. Jongdae can dance. They just don’t know how to appreciate true art. Everything Jongdae does is true art. Jongdae is true art. Baekhyun eyes Jongdae with a look that makes Jongdae suspect Baekhyun knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“I don’t understand why you just don’t tell Yixing that you like him instead of joining his dance club and spouting out art puns at him—which, by the way, are the lamest things I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.” Baekhyun mutters, “And I was there when you got drunk off your and had to explain to campus security why you were in the fountain with Am—”

“Say another word and I will shove acrylic paint down your throat.” Jongdae hisses.

“Lead poisoning is a serious matter.” Sehun inserts, mouth turned down into a stoic little frown.

“And so is your hair, but do you see me complaining?” Jongdae asks, closing his sketchbook because he really doubts he’ll be getting anything done today, even though it’s almost nine in the morning (he didn’t even know Baekhyun knew days started this early).

“Actually, hyung, you’re always complaining. You hate a lot of things.” Sehun says, pointedly. Jongdae’s pretty sure Sehun’s faking the innocent, punk rock kid thing because the snarky little definitely has some kind of double meaning hidden in his tone.

“I don’t hate a lot of things.”

“There’s only one thing you don’t hate, hyung, and it’s Yixing hyung. That probably means you’re in love with him.” Sehun smirks, eyes shining maliciously as his voice rises.

Jongdae throws him an angry scowl, “I’m not in love with him. Love isn’t real. It’s just a marketing ploy so consumers will—”

“Your conspiracy theories aren’t even fun anymore, Jongdae.” Baekhyun interrupts, ignoring Jongdae’s annoyed frown. Then Baekhyun leans forward on his elbows, eyeing Jongdae curiously, “But you know what is fun? Your crush on Yixing.” Jongdae frowns because with each passing word Baekhyun’s voice gets louder and louder.

Jongdae looks between Sehun and Baekhyun, suspiciously. “What are you two doing?”

Sehun shakes his head, rainbow hair blurring into streaks of color, “No, no, hyung. It’s not about what we’re doing.”

Then Baekhyun grins, sharp teeth showing, and practically shouts, “It’s about what you’re not doing, or rather who you’re not doing.”

“What does that—”

“Yixing hyung!” Sehun shouts, effectively cutting Jongdae off. Jongdae practically freezes in his seat because Yixing. Jongdae doesn’t know what to do when Yixing sits across from him, dressed in a tank top with a nonexistent neckline (for once, Jongdae is silently thanking the gods for ing Hollister) and black skinny jeans that fit him in all the right places. Jongdae doesn’t know what to do when Yixing smiles at him and that goddamned dimple decides to make an unwanted appearance. Jongdae sure as hell does not know what to do when Yixing bites his lip, as he pours milk into his little plastic bowl of cereal.

But Jongdae does know that he doesn’t have a crush on Yixing. He doesn’t. He joined dance club because it’s important for him to explore every genre of art, as an art major. He totally does those art puns because he’s funny and quirky, not because his brain decides to forget how to function whenever he’s in the same room as Yixing. Love leads to rejection and sadness and Jongdae doesn’t want to end up like ing Vincent Van Gogh, thank you very much. Besides love is too mainstream, everybody thinks they have it and everybody wants it. It’s boring.

“So. Yixing hyung. Chanyeol’s throwing a party this weekend. We’re going to get totally blasted, like The Great Gatsby level party . It’s going to be so fun. You in?” Baekhyun asks, eyes twinkling. Jongdae knows Baekhyun only likes Chanyeol’s parties because there’s usually something incredibly dramatic that goes down (apart from Baekhyun inevitably going down on Chanyeol). Then Baekhyun and Zitao spend an entire afternoon gossiping and spreading the news around as fast as they can (they’ve got a record they’ve been trying to beat). Jongdae finds their efficiency pretty impressive although he’d never admit it out loud.

Jongdae frowns at Baekhyun, “Is Chanyeol going to be dead in the pool at the end of the night?”

“Wait. What? No.” Baekhyun looks at Jongdae like Jongdae’s the dumb one.

“Well, someone should kill him. It’s not a true Great Gatsby party until the host ends up dead in the pool.” Yixing suddenly inserts. Jongdae thinks he’s going to break into a million teeny tiny pieces because Yixing reads actual literature. (Jongdae prefers to ignore the fact that every student was forced to read The Great Gatsby in high school because intellectual Yixing). Jongdae even thinks he could possibly ignore the ty brand name clothing and Yixing’s penchant for dancing to Super Junior and One Direction because ing intellectual Yixing.

Jongdae wants to say something but when he actually meets Yixing’s warm eyes his brain turns to mush. Yixing raises his eyebrows, “Did you say something, Jongdae-ah?”

“I…um,” Jongdae didn’t even realize he’d opened his mouth, let alone said things, “Are you Salvador Dali?”

A tiny smile plays across Yixing’s lips, “Huh?”

Jongdae points at the bowl of cereal in front of Yixing, “You must be Salvador Dali because that’s…surreal.”

There’s long moment of silence (where Jongdae is turning progressively redder and redder) before Baekhyun and Sehun groan loudly. Jongdae tries to pretend he totally meant to say that, especially when Yixing giggles a little (which is entirely too cute).

Yixing just looks at Jongdae in amusement, giggling too cutely as he slowly gets out of his seat. Jongdae watches as Yixing mentions something about class and bids them goodbye, still snorting with laughter. Jongdae wants to lock himself in his room for the next year and listen to sad, indie music because how does he up this badly.

“You’re so embarrassing.” Baekhyun says, wrinkling his nose delicately at Jongdae.

~.~.~.~.~

“Jongdae-ah.” Jongdae frowns because Luhan is currently hurrying up to him; salmon-colored shorts making Jongdae cringe outwardly and inwardly.

“Hyung, I don’t want to be seen with you in public.” Jongdae says, slowly, eyeing Luhan in disdain.

Luhan waves a dismissive hand, smiling rather creepily, “Yeah, yeah. We all know you want to be seen with Yixing. I just needed to ask you something.”

Jongdae frowns, “Does everyone think I have a crush on Yixing? Because I don’t.”

Luhan eyes Jongdae like he had just announced that Vanilla Bean Frappucinnos were being discontinued. “Is this hipster talk for ‘I want Yixing to my brains out’?”

“No.”

Luhan crosses his arms, “Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, no, no.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

“No. No. No. No. No.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, no.”

“Yes—wait, what the hell. I mean. No. No!” Jongdae fumbles, flailing a little as Luhan’s eyes twinkle demonically.

Luhan just grins maniacally and Jongdae wonders why exactly everyone thinks Luhan’s actually cute. “Right. Okay. Anyways, I wanted to know if you were coming to that party this weekend.”

“No, I’m not.”

Luhan pouts and Jongdae swears he looks like an eight year old in pale pink pants. “Oh, come on. Yixing’s going to be there.”

Jongdae just glares at Luhan, wishing looks could kill. Luhan places both his hands on Jongdae’s shoulders and speaks in a persuasive tone, “Yixing, little dongsaeng. Yixing.”

Jongdae shakes Luhan off of him, “I’m leaving.”

Jongdae walks away as Luhan continuously shouts Yixing after him. Jongdae decides maybe he’ll go check out the party. Not because of what Luhan is saying, no, but because maybe he’ll be inspired to sketch something new. Yes, he would only go to Chanyeol’s party for educational purposes.

~.~.~.~.~

“What are you drawing?”

Jongdae’s heart feels like it’s going to somersault out of his chest and Jongdae decides it’s because of the burger he’d had for lunch. He recognizes that slightly accented Korean, however. Oh God.

It’s Zhang Yixing.

Jongdae’s going to commit, he is seriously going to drown himself in the new One Direction perfume. Yixing is the last person he wants to see right now.

Jongdae shrugs, noncommittally, “I don’t know. Stuff. Things.”

Jongdae notices Yixing smirk, pink lips twitching upwards, “Very descriptive.” Then Yixing takes a seat beside Jongdae and Jongdae thinks if he doesn’t die from the obvious heartburn that burger is giving him, then he’s probably going to die from excessive stress due to Zhang Yixing, dimpled, blonde, pop music loving tease. Jongdae pretends like he doesn’t notice the way Yixing’s arm brushes against his because nothing will end well if he does.

There’s a faint snap and Jongdae glances down, frowning. The tip of his pencil had snapped in half because Jongdae had been pressing down into the paper too hard. Great. Yixing doesn’t seem to notice, instead he smiles, expression a little blank and a little something else Jongdae doesn’t recognize.  “I heard you’re really good.” Yixing says with a warm smile that makes Jongdae suddenly feel like he’s flying. How ing cheesy.

Jongdae nods, “Maybe.”

“Can you draw me?” Yixing asks.

“I can, but that would be a little pointless at the moment.” Jongdae replies staring at his pencil in dismay. He’s always wanted to draw Yixing.

There’s a moment of silence and then Jongdae realizes that , , he just did it again. . Yixing looks entirely too amused and Jongdae frowns because he is not amusing, he is serious and intimidating and knowledgeable about art.

“I need to get to Bio.” Yixing says, patting Jongdae’s arm, raising goose bumps. “I hope I see you at Chanyeol’s party.”

Yixing doesn’t wait for Jongdae to answer and Jongdae frowns at his retreating back and decides that okay, maybe he does like Zhang Yixing. But who wouldn’t like Zhang Yixing, especially when his jeans fit him like that. Jongdae decides he needs to send American Eagle a thank you note.

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae’s lying in the middle of the hall in the Arts Building, glaring at his sketchbook while some obscure French Indie song plays loudly in his ears. He’s lost it. He’s ing lost it.

He’s got another concept deadline right around the corner and he’s lost all inkling of inspiration. Is this the dreaded Art Block? Oh God. He ing hates this. He doesn’t want to draw, he doesn’t have motivation or inspiration or anything. He flips through song after song in his iPod but there’s nothing. Not a single spark, not a single little moment of oh.

And he knows exactly who to blame for this.

The man who’s taken up constant residence in his brain.

Zhang ing Yixing.

~.~.~.~.~

 “What are you doing?” Baekhyun’s voice interrupts Jongdae’s wallowing. Jongdae just groans into his pillow, rolling over because he is so not in the mood for this, when suddenly the covers are pulled off of him.

Jongdae groans even louder, “Get out, I’m doing art.”

“You’re listening to the hipster equivalent of Linkin Park with all the lights shut off even though it’s nearly two in the afternoon. That’s not art.” Kyungsoo says, pointedly.

“Nobody asked you.” Jongdae mutters.

Then Baekhyun brushes his fingers across Jongdae’s forehead, gently, and Jongdae lets himself relax into his touch for a moment, “What’s this about?” Baekhyun asks, softly.

“Nothing.” Jongdae replies, pulling away.

Baekhyun sighs, loudly. “Is this about Yixin—”

“No, it’s not!” Jongdae shouts, sitting up immediately and glaring at Baekhyun (and Kyungsoo). “Stop talking about Yixing. He’s not important; in fact; don’t ever mention his name ever again. He’s annoying and has terrible taste in music. He listens to Super Junior.”

“You listen to Super Junior.” Kyungsoo says with an eye roll.

Baekhyun nods, thoughtfully, “Yeah, you were even obsessed with Shinee for the longest time. And Girl’s Generation. Also I’m pretty sure you listened to One Direction’s entire Take Me Home album for a whole week straight after it leaked.”

Jongdae blinks, thrown off guard, “I. No. No, I didn’t.”

Kyungsoo looks positively wicked and Jongdae really thinks he needs to keep Kyungsoo away from himself and Baekhyun sometimes. They’re bad influences on him. “You cried every time you listened to They Don’t Know About Us. Something about Zayn’s beautiful voice and —”

“That’s not the point.” Jongdae interrupts, ignoring Kyungsoo’s raised brows. “The point is that I’m experiencing Art Block and it’s all Yixing’s fault. I’m never talking to him ever again.”

Jongdae waits for Baekhyun and Kyungsoo to nod in understanding but instead they both exchange a meaningful look before they burst into laughter. Jongdae opens his mouth to say something but Baekhyun and Kyungsoo laugh even louder, cutting him off. Jongdae glares as they continue to laugh and laugh and laugh.

Jongdae decides he’s never talking to any of them ever again.

~.~.~.~.~

“So I hear you’re never talking to me again?” Jongdae freezes at the studio door and decides he’s going to shave Baekhyun’s head in his sleep.

“I never said that.” Jongdae replies, quickly, hurrying towards the door.

“Jongdae-ah.” Yixing calls before Jongdae has the chance to escape. Jongdae sighs and turns on his heels forcing himself to smile at Yixing, who is currently smirking at him. Jongdae smirks at people, people don’t smirk at Jongdae. “Have you been practicing?”

Jongdae blinks, distractedly, “Um…”

Yixing frowns and Jongdae doesn’t know what to do when Yixing is walking towards him. Yixing wraps gentle fingers around Jongdae’s wrist and pulls him into the dance studio. Jongdae is going to explode into stardust, he really is. “Let me help you. I don’t want you to fall behind.”

Jongdae sighs and drops his bag on the wooden floor. Yixing smiles so warmly, Jongdae momentarily forgets how to breathe.

~.~.~.~.~

It’s getting worse. Jongdae’s Art Block is getting so much worse because all he can seem to think about now is Zhang Yixing.

It’s awful because Yixing won’t leave him alone. Even the most mundane activity reminds Jongdae of Yixing. When he picks up his sketchbook, all he sees is Yixing; that dimple, those arms, that graceful body, those warm eyes. Jongdae hates everything. Since when has his life become an awful unrequited love drama?

“You don’t look like you’re breathing.” Sehun says, with a smile that’s entirely too amused for Jongdae’s taste. Luhan just smiles knowingly from beside Sehun, nudging Minseok, pointedly. Minseok looks like he wants to start laughing. Jongdae decides he needs to find new friends.

“Are you thinking about Yixing-ah?” Luhan singsongs rather obnoxiously. Jongdae glares at the boy.

Jongdae stabs at his kimchi roughly, sighing. “No, I’m just…” He trails off with a frown. What is he doing?

“Doing art?” Minseok finishes for him, raising his eyebrows in that way of his that makes Jongdae wonder if Minseok is just judging him.

Jongdae nods, “Yes, I’m doing art. Leave me alone.” Except he’s not. He can’t. And it’s annoying.

Luhan tilts his head to the side, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “Do you always call it ‘doing art’ when you’re thinking about Yixing or is that just a general art student thing?”

Jongdae nearly chokes on air. Nearly. “You’re gross, hyung. At least stop looking like an eight year old boy if you’re going to make ual innuendos.”

“As long as you stop acting like an eight year old boy whenever you’re around Yixing. Salvador Dali, Jongdae-ah? Really?” Luhan says.

“I’m going to replace your shampoo bottle with red dye, I swear to God I will.” Jongdae mutters, eyeing Luhan with annoyance as he pointedly stabs at his kimchi again.

“Well, someone’s in a mood.” Minseok comments, with a tiny little smirk.

“I think hyung is sad he hasn’t seen Yixing hyung yet.” Sehun inserts, serenely.

Jongdae is about to retort when a familiar voice interrupts from right behind Jongdae. “What about sad hyungs and Yixing?”

Jongdae blinks, freezing mid-bite. Oh no. No, no, no. His expression must be incredibly stricken because Sehun bursts into laughter, making his dark clothes and multiple ear piercings look entirely out of place. Jongdae immediately pushes out of his seat and gathers his things. “Good. Bye.” Jongdae bites out before stomping away, looking at everything except Yixing. He cannot and will not deal with Yixing today. He is not mentally prepared.

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae is currently staring at his sketchbook, desperately, trying to somehow will a sketch to magically appear before him. Not even blasting his entire Nell playlist off of the speakers he had borrowed (stolen) from Chanyeol is working like it usually does. His brain isn’t cooperating with him and it’s so, so annoying. He’s got a deadline on Monday and he can’t afford to miss it. Jongdae won’t ever admit it out loud but he’s afraid of failing. He’s afraid of failing and having to return to his parent’s house empty-handed, only to be told I told you so for the rest of his life. He’s so desperate for inspiration that he’s even contemplating doing drugs. This is so bad.

He’s interrupted from his thoughts by the ringing of the doorbell and Jongdae contemplates whether he should just let Baekhyun spend the night in the hallway for forgetting his keys (seeing as Baekhyun doesn’t know how to keep things to himself) but then decides against it. Because Jongdae is a Good Friend and it’s nearly two in the morning. So Jongdae throws his pencils on top of his sketchbook, glaring at it for good measure, before getting the door.

It’s not Baekhyun at the door, however. It’s Zhang Yixing, eyes gleaming determinedly and smile soft and barely there. Jongdae kind of wants to shut the door and pretend he never opened it, but that’s considered rude, so he doesn’t. “What are you doing here?” Jongdae questions, trying to keep the frown off his face.

“I heard you’ve lost your inspiration.” Yixing murmurs.

Jongdae nods slowly, “Yeah. But that’s my problem, hyung, not yours.”

“I told you I didn’t want you to fall behind, right?” Yixing asks, rolling his eyes. He then grabs Jongdae’s hand, lightly, long fingers wrapping around Jongdae’s. Jongdae blinks owlishly, his heart beating a little franticly. Yixing smiles, “I’m going to help you.”

Jongdae can’t protest and he really doesn’t want to protest. He lets Yixing pull him out of his apartment, sketchbook forgotten.

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae eyes the Performing Arts Building curiously, before glancing at Yixing. He wants to say something but he can’t. The fond little look on Yixing’s face is just so mesmerizing and Jongdae is fascinated by the tiny smile playing on Yixing’s lips. Jongdae frowns, turning his gaze away from Yixing and towards the building. He finds it easier to speak to Yixing when he’s not making eye contact with him. “Are we even allowed to be here? It’s like two in the morning.”

“I don’t know.” Yixing shrugs, glancing at Jongdae with twinkling eyes, “What’s wrong, Jongdae-ah? Aren’t you supposed to be the adventurous type? I know I sure am.” Jongdae blinks distractedly, his mind suddenly preoccupied with this new information regarding Yixing being the adventurous type.

Jongdae smirks, side eyeing Yixing, “Yah, I’m adventurous. I’m so adventurous they call me Indiana Jones.”

Yixing snorts and Jongdae doesn’t miss the amusement and mischievous twinkle in his eyes. At times like this Jongdae is reminded as to why Yixing and Luhan are best friends.

~.~.~.~.~

“Wait, close your eyes.” Yixing says as he pulls Jongdae through the dim corridors. It takes Jongdae a moment to process what Yixing is saying and not because of the fact that Yixing’s fingers are intertwined with Jongdae’s. Nope, not at all.

Jongdae glances at Yixing, suspiciously. “Are you planning on killing me?”

Yixing shrugs, “Maybe.”

Jongdae closes his eyes anyway (because Yixing is looking at Jongdae with wide eyes and a slight pout) and makes a noise when he feels Yixing place his free hand over Jongdae’s eyes, making sure Jongdae doesn’t peek. “I’m not going to peek.” Jongdae mutters, a little breathlessly.

“I’m just making sure.” Yixing breathes and Jongdae is suddenly hyperaware of how close Yixing is, how low his voice is. Jongdae decides Yixing is a tease and Jongdae is about ninety nine point nine percent sure Yixing knows it. He has to. He can’t be that goddamn oblivious.

~.~.~.~.~

Yixing removes his hand and Jongdae glances around the room, curiously, noticing that he’s standing in an old dance studio. It’s musty and outdated compared to the new one the dance club practices in, the wood floors are scratched up and the mirror looks like it needs a good day of cleaning. Jongdae tries to look pleasantly surprised as he stares at the God awful cloud wallpaper plastered across one of the walls. “It’s really, um, nice.” Jongdae says when he meets Yixing’s expectant gaze.

Yixing actually rolls his eyes, “You don’t have to act impressed. This place isn’t impressive. It’s definitely a hole.” Yixing says, fondly, as he steps into the middle of the room and looks around.

Jongdae frowns, confused, “Then why are we here?”

Yixing glances over his shoulder, giving Jongdae that sweet, dimpled smile Jongdae wants to find gross. “This very spot right here is where I first started to take dance seriously. Exactly four months after that, in this very room, I decided I was going to minor in dance.” Yixing sighs, crossing his legs and taking a seat. He leans back on his palms and looks up at Jongdae, “You know Jongin-ah, right?”

Jongdae purses his lips, nodding after a moment, “I think so. He’s the skater kid who does ballet, right?”

Yixing nods and his eyes are so warm and full of adoration that Jongdae’s heart twists a little. “Mmhm. That’s him. He saw me dancing in here, once, and ever since he’s been trying to convince me to major in dance. He was part of the reason why I even thought about minoring in dance. This room is my source of inspiration.” Then Yixing stares at Jongdae and Jongdae suddenly feels as if the room is too small, he feels like he’s suffocating.

“Why did you bring me here, hyung? Why are you trying to help me? This is my problem, not yours.” Jongdae whispers, feeling a wave of overwhelming emotion hit him all at once. This was so confusing, Zhang Yixing is so confusing.

Yixing sighs, shrugging as he lies back on the ground, crossing his arms behind his head. “I guess because I want to help you? You’ve always been everything I’m not, Jongdae-ah. You’ve always had the courage to follow your dreams and do what you want, study what you want, no matter the odds. I’m the opposite. I’m too afraid to major in dance, you know. I’m afraid that I won’t make it. I’m afraid of the fact that one little thing can destroy years of hard work. So I took the safe path. I chose medicine. I think. I think I’m just invested in your success, Jongdae-ah. I believe in you, weird as that sounds, because you’re an art major, minoring in music, and you’re doing what you love. You’re not playing it safe and I like that so much. I know you’ll make it. I don’t want you to lose your inspiration because…because it makes you so sad. And I don’t like that. Maybe I’m just living vicariously through you, Jongdae-ah, but either way I want you to find your inspiration again.”

Jongdae blinks and he really doesn’t know what to say. “Yixing…”

Yixing just laughs a little, “Anyways, I brought you here to show you that maybe your Art Block will stop if you find the source of your inspiration. At least that’s what works with me.”

Jongdae takes a seat beside Yixing, staring at the way Yixing is lying on the ground, the hem of his shirt riding up a little. Jongdae forces his gaze to settle on Yixing’s face, his closed eyes and serene expression. “You’re an amazing dancer, Yixing hyung.” Jongdae says, sincerely.

Yixing opens one eye, chocolate brown boring into Jongdae. “Thanks, but it’s too late for me.”

Jongdae frowns, rolling his eyes, “It’s never too late.”

Yixing just shrugs a little, “Maybe.”

Jongdae lies down beside Yixing and stares up at the ceiling, his brain reeling at the fact that their arms are brushing up against each other, raising goose bumps. Jongdae turns his head to the side and stares at Yixing, an unidentifiable feeling bubbling up in his chest. He feels overwhelmed. Because Yixing believes in him, for whatever reason. It’s really, really nice to know. Jongdae bites his bottom lip suppressing the urge to tackle Yixing into a hug. “Thank you.” Jongdae murmurs, averting his eyes and staring at the ceiling, pointedly. He can feel his face heating up.

“No problem.” Yixing whispers back.

They just lie there, surrounded by a sort of serenity Jongdae had not experienced in a long, long time. They just lay there, on the cold wooden floor, arms barely brushing, and Jongdae wonders if Yixing can hear his pounding heart in the silence. All Jongdae can do is stare up at the ceiling and bite the inside of his cheek, half-frustrated and fully happy, happy because Yixing believes in him and it makes his chest feel all fluttery.

~.~.~.~.~

“So you’re telling me you snuck into a dance studio with him in the middle of the night and you two didn’t do anything?” Baekhyun asks, a little shrilly.

Jongdae winces at Baekhyun’s pitch and frowns at him, “We were having a heart-to-heart.”

“You should have been having a -to—”

“If you say it out loud I am leaving.” Jongdae interrupts with a glare.

Baekhyun just sighs, “I’m disappointed in you.”

“That breaks my heart.” Jongdae deadpans as he turns his attention back to his sketchbook. Yixing had said to find the source of his inspiration but the problem is that Jongdae’s source of inspiration had been his grandmother. She had been the sole reason why he had decided to take up art, but she passed away years ago and Jongdae half wonders if he should just give up. But he doesn’t want to let himself (or Yixing) down.

“Chanyeol, tell him how disappointing he is.” Baekhyun says loudly and Jongdae rolls his eyes at the fact that Baekhyun even thinks he can boss anyone around.

Chanyeol just makes a face, grinning at Baekhyun a little, “Jongdae, you’re a disappointment.”

“A dishonor!” Baekhyun adds, throwing his arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders.

Jongdae just shuts his sketchbook, “I’m leaving. Your flirting is making me uncomfortable.” Jongdae says, pointedly.

Jongdae can practically feel Baekhyun’s glare. “Wait. Before you go off to cry about your embarrassing love life. Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Because of that comment, I’m not answering.” Jongdae says dismissively.

“Come on, Jongdae-ah. My party’s going to be so fun.” Chanyeol responds, holding both of his thumbs up and grinning like a lunatic.

Jongdae copies Chanyeol’s hand gestures and responds sarcastically, “I don’t care.”

Baekhyun throws up his arms in frustration, “I’m going to kick you out of the apartment if you don’t come. I swear I’m going to revoke your ‘Byun Baekhyun’s Best Friend’ card, Jongdae. I swear.” Jongdae just kind of shrugs and walks away, knowing Baekhyun is just bluffing. “I swear!” Baekhyun shouts after him.

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae eyes Yifan curiously. “Did you want something?” Jongdae asks, eventually. Yifan had taken the other seat at Jongdae’s table in the library almost ten minutes ago and hadn’t stopped staring at Jongdae ever since. Jongdae figured if he ignored Yifan long enough, he’d just go away. That was obviously not true.

Yifan taps his chin, blonde hair swept to the side and half of his face obscured by his scarf. Yifan is technically a part of Jongdae’s group of friends (if Jongdae can even call the pricks friends) but he’s usually too busy being mysterious to actually hang out with them the majority of the time. But what bewilders Jongdae most about Yifan is the fact that everyone seems really close to Yifan except for Jongdae. Baekhyun hints at Yifan’s dirty little secrets all the time. All Jongdae knows about Yifan is that he knows three languages, is considered the ‘mysterious one’ of the group, buys Sehun a lot of bubble tea, and has hooked up with most of the university’s female population (including the hot professors). Jongdae’s a little jealous, if he’s being honest.

“I’m here to inspire you, Kim Jongdae.” Yifan says, smirking a little.

Jongdae frowns, taken aback. “Um, what?”

“Inspiration.” Yifan says slowly, as if he’s talking to a child. Jongdae glares at his tone and Yifan’s smirk gets even wider. “I’m here.”

“Are you drunk?” Jongdae asks.

Yifan just places his fingers flat on the table and leans forwards, until he’s about five centimeters away from Jongdae’s face. “If you can’t confront the source of your inspiration then confront what stole it.” Yifan says in a knowing tone.

Jongdae blinks, “How did you—”

“Fortune cookies are great.” Yifan leans back, dropping a tiny slip of paper in front of Jongdae.

“You’re so ing weird, hyung.” Jongdae decides to say, staring at the slip of paper before him.

Yifan just scowls at Jongdae, wrapping his scarf around his neck and pulling on a pair of dark sunglasses (even though they’re indoors) before he gets out of his seat. “You’d better listen to my advice, Jongdae. I don’t hand out advice to just anyone.” Yifan tells him over his shoulder, before turning on his heels and walking away.

Jongdae watches Yifan’s retreating back and is reminded of some kind of runway model. A really ing weird runway model.

Jongdae returns his gaze to the little slip of paper before him and thinks maybe Yifan is right.

If Jongdae can’t confront the source of his inspiration then he’ll have to confront what stole it.

Or rather who stole it.

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae doesn’t know why or how but he’s drunk, like really, really drunk. He leans against Chanyeol, who seems entirely too amused for Jongdae’s taste. “The party barely started and you’re already drunk?” Chanyeol asks, one of his eyes twitching a little.

“I’m gonna confront him tonight, Chanyeol-ah.” Jongdae slurs.

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows, “You mean confess?”

Jongdae shakes his head, “Nope. Confront. It’s his fault I’ve lost my inspiration.”

Chanyeol blinks once, twice, three times before he shoves Jongdae onto the nearest couch and just leaves. Jongdae watches Chanyeol’s retreating back with a pout before getting back on his feet and deciding that it was about time to find Zhang Yixing and end this Art Block bull for good.

~.~.~.~.~

Jongdae pushes past a few irrelevant partygoers, stumbling a little (not because he has two left feet but because it’s crowded) and frowns, turning on his heels because he swears he had just seen Yixing come through here. Jongdae can spot those goddamned dimples from kilometers away.

Jongdae pauses from his incessant spinning because he’s starting to get a bit dizzy and nearly falls flat on his face when someone tackles him. Jongdae stares at the offending person, blankly, putting the face he had learned from Baekhyun to good use. Jongdae’s frown deepens significantly when he realizes it’s Luhan.

“Yoooo.” Luhan calls, throwing his arms around Jongdae’s neck. Jongdae’s hazy mind feels a little offended at the fact that Luhan is actually touching Jongdae while wearing that hideous collared shirt.

“Luhan hyung.” Jongdae mutters, smiling with slight disdain.

Luhan just grins, eyes sparkling, and ignores the fact that Jongdae obviously doesn’t want to talk to him. “I heard you were gonna confess to Xing Xing.”

“No. I was gonna confront him.” Jongdae corrects.

Luhan just pulls back, eyeing Jongdae with wide eyes. “Is that hipster talk for confess? Possibly do the dirty?”

“No, it’s hipster talk for hyung is really ing annoying.” Jongdae replies.

“Well,” Luhan tilts his head, holding out the word, “Yixing-ah is trapped upstairs with Taozi. You should go save him from the Gucci talk before Yixing snaps. That will not be a pretty sight.” Luhan’s slurring and grinning and pushing Jongdae towards the stairs.

Jongdae pauses and raises his eyebrows, curiously, “You’ve seen Yixing—”

“No stalling. Go, go, go. Save my best friend from hell, Jongdae-ah. I’m counting on you.” Luhan interrupts hurriedly practically shoving Jongdae up the stairs which Jongdae eventually obliges to because he’s way too drunk to protest, really.

~.~.~.~.~

“Hyung!” Jongdae flinches at the voice and kind of really wants to claw his eyes out.

“Zitao.” Jongdae says. Jongdae is surprised to see the younger boy looking incredibly panicked. It takes a moment for Jongdae’s hazy mind to realize that he should probably ask what’s wrong. “Um,  you okay?”

“Hyung, Yixing-ge is stuck in there and won’t come out.” Zitao says, his usually sleepy eyes wide with worry.

Jongdae perks up at the mention of Yixing’s name because he is so ready to tell Yixing off for possibly ruining his career before it even started. “Where?”

Zitao points at one of the doors, “There.”

Jongdae stumbles over to the door and pulls it open. He frowns. It’s a tiny coat closet and Zhang Yixing is most definitely not inside of it. Jongdae is about to turn around and question Zitao when he’s suddenly shoved face first into the floor. Jongdae yelps when the door behind him slams shut and his hazy mind is really ing confused. Did Zitao just lock him in a goddamn closet?

Before Jongdae can process the situation any further, he hears Zitao shouting in that same exact worried tone he had used with Jongdae. “Yixing-ge! He’s in here.”

And then there’s someone knocking Jongdae back on the ground and Jongdae realizes that Zhang Yixing is currently sprawled on top of him. Either this is a dream or a nightmare. Jongdae decides it’s a nightmare when Yixing’s face is so close Jongdae could count his eyelashes and the faint click of a lock and Zitao’s muffled snickering reaches Jongdae’s ears. He’s pretty sure he can hear high-fives and congratulations being exchanged outside and Jongdae is definitely getting new friends.

Jongdae’s breathing hitches because Yixing’s touching him and he’s so, so close and Jongdae thinks that for once Hollister perfume can actually smell good. Suddenly Jongdae doesn’t want to confront Yixing anymore. As Jongdae’s gaze focuses on Yixing’s pink lips and blank eyes, Jongdae gets the sudden urge to run away (or kiss Yixing) (or both, Jongdae isn’t too picky).

“Um, Yixing…” Jongdae breathes, forgetting all formalities because Yixing is sprawled on top of him. Jongdae thinks his brain has turned to mush.

Yixing blinks slowly, before breaking into a dimpled smile that makes Jongdae want to punch himself in the face and also kiss Yixing senseless. “Something wrong, Jongdae-ah?”

“I’m…” Jongdae blinks. Yixing is smirking at him. Jongdae thinks he’s going to go insane because Yixing’s damn pink lips are directly in his line of sight, so Jongdae decides to latch onto anger, something, before he does something stupid.

So Jongdae sits up and scoots away from Yixing, which isn’t very far because they’re locked in a goddamn closet, and points at Yixing accusingly. “This is all your fault.”

 Yixing blinks, looking entirely too innocent, “What’s my fault?”

Jongdae gestures around him, “This.”

Yixing sighs a little, “Jongdae-ah.”

“No, don’t ‘Jongdae-ah’ me. You’re the reason I’ve been such a mess. You’re the reason why I’m even at this goddamn party. You’re the reason for my Art Block. You’re the reason why. You’re just a. You’re a problem.” Jongdae says, hurriedly, his frown deepening with each word.

Jongdae expects Yixing to be angry, offended, something negative, but instead he’s met with warm brown eyes and a smirk that could rival Jongdae’s own. “Good.” Yixing says, firmly.

“You’re just—” Jongdae cuts himself off, frowning, realizing what Yixing had just said. “Wait. What.”

“Good. It’s good I’m a problem. You’re a problem, too, Jongdae-ah.” Yixing says, matter-of-factly.

“What?” Jongdae repeats, frowning.

Yixing smiles, dimples showing and eyes twinkling playfully. “But I think this is a problem we can both solve quite easily.”

Jongdae opens his mouth to say something, but immediately loses all train of thought when Yixing starts to lean closer. Jongdae can’t blink or really think because Yixing is so close Jongdae could make ing blueprints of his face. But the damn tease won’t kiss him, no, he’s just smirking and Jongdae thinks pop music is obviously a bad influence on Yixing. Jongdae can’t take it anymore, though, so he closes the distance between them, crashing his lips against Yixing’s. Yixing’s lips are so soft and so giving and Jongdae just wants more, more, more. Jongdae’s fingers thread through Yixing’s soft hair and Jongdae pulls him closer because kissing Yixing is addictive. He tastes likes soju and chips and Zhang Yixing and it’s everything Jongdae had ever imagined and more. Jongdae moans when Yixing trails light, feathery kisses from the corner of Jongdae’s mouth, across his jaw, and down his neck. Jongdae likes this so much. . He likes Yixing so much.

What feels like years later, they finally break apart, gasping for breath, and Jongdae can’t help but laugh, breathlessly. Yixing just smiles and they’re so close and Jongdae thinks he could live with this, he could live with these cheesy romance feelings, mainstream or not, because they feel good. Jongdae’s brain has to be actual mush and he feels like he’s on cloud nine.

Jongdae can’t stop smiling and Yixing just grins and speaks softly, forehead against Jongdae’s. Jongdae is mesmerized by Yixing’s warm eyes. “Jongdae-ah, will you van gogh out with me?”

Jongdae nearly chokes on air and makes a face while Yixing bursts into laughter. “Why?” Jongdae groans, in an (admittedly) slightly whiny voice.

Yixing’s smile reminds Jongdae of sunshine and Jongdae doesn’t care how cheesy that sounds. “Will you?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes and steals a kiss because he can. “Obviously.”

Yixing opens his mouth to say something when he’s interrupting by a loud thump right outside the closet door and a muffled, “It worked!” Jongdae can hear Baekhyun’s distinct laughter along with a Sehun and even Minseok. Those bastards.

“Let’s kill them later.” Yixing says quietly, before catching Jongdae’s lips in his. Jongdae can’t help but smile into the kiss as Yixing traces a light finger along Jongdae’s jaw.

“I’m going to need inspiration, hyung.” Jongdae murmurs against Yixing’s lips. Yixing just chuckles and Jongdae thinks he’ll be alright. Jongdae thinks that maybe mainstream can be good sometimes.

Jongdae thinks he likes Zhang Yixing a lot, and it’s not as terrible as he originally thought it would be.

a/n: haha get it bc salvador dali is a famous surrealist and cereal sounds like surreal haha oh god im sorry

soooo this happened while i was watching 1dday sorry not sorry omg

please upvote, comment and subscribe if you liked it! Tell me what you thought I love thoughts!

Thank you for reading and to all the people who subscribed even before I posted oh man I hope I didn't disappoint bc im not very confident about this oneshot tbh

xoxo