#1

Park Chanyeol is fastest; long limbs snatching a spot before the other two noisy bunch can. With the widest grin, claiming a space beside a forcefully seated Yixing while snaking an arm across Yixing’s shoulder — ultimately adding unnecessary body weight (which isn’t entirely welcomed but not necessarily a bad thing).

An award winning ex-roommate, Kim Jongdae, goes right to protest, playfully pressuring Chanyeol to get his flailing hands off Yixing. Don’t you see hyung’s ded eyes, had been Jongdae’s exact judging words — fast in becoming Yixing’s favourite bandmate of the day, well acquaintanced with Yixing’s habit after all this time.

‘Thought you’re all on schedule,’ says Yixing, face too inexpressive to actually convey anything.

‘Crossed for the day, hyung,’ Chanyeol answers happily, his large foot tapping on the floor in a set rhythm. ‘Wanted to make time for you.’

Then Baekhyun swoops in, ‘Yeol, give it a rest. Hyung’s close to dying. Look at him; totally shares Jongin’s dead fish eyes, now.’

(‘Hey!’ Jongin voices his protest from the kitchen.)

‘None of us got dead fish eyes and I’m not sleepy,’ Yixing quips in protest, then turning to Chanyeol to slightly give more attention because the kid had looked so excited at the prospect of spending the day together — and Yixing only has two and a half days before he’s flying back to China.

‘Hyung, you fainted ,’ Baekhyun steers back Yixing’s attention to him, coming strong with his nag, delicate eyebrows furrowed together in favour of accenting his make-play anger. ‘Not just once — and like, actual fainting, dropping to the ground, whacking your head, ending up in E.R. — you need more rest.’

(But then Jongdae comes up to squeeze the plane of Baekhyun's shoulder from the back. He’s leaning in close and tactfully whispering a soft something in Baekhyun’s ear, easily melting all the gratifying tension away — Yixing thinks a gratitude is in order.)

‘But I’m fine, now.’ Even if it’s still falling straight on deaf ears, Yixing keep insisting. Though a little more quiet now and with less persistence.

Baekhyun means well. When it comes to them, he always does — despite what other people would think — a caring, good brother whose affection and attention are too wasted on Yixing.

It’s never on anyone’s mouth but Yixing knows, has felt it , a thin line of space between him and the rest of them. It’s grown more and more each time they parted. The last thing he wanted is to waste his rare time with them by sleeping the day away.

This time Kyungsoo sags onto the couch, stealing Yixing’s attention with way he’s making himself comfortable by Yixing’s side, pressing his fingers gently around Yixing’s kneecap, thoughtful and amused. Kyungsoo’s laugh is always on of the small list of Yixing’s favourites.

‘Look, hyung, you weren’t here when the bunch of madness over there,’ he pointedly looks at Baekhyun, Chen, and Chanyeol in order, ‘—went bat hysteric over you, but I was. Please, if you could just consider my limited sanity.’

Chanyeol coughs to cover a kind of snorted laughter, shifting around, all uncoordinated and awkward slouching in his too big of a posture. ‘Give it to Kyungsoo... to comfort hyung with underlying threats.’

There is a water bottle flying over Yixing’s head, but Chanyeol honestly had it coming.

Amidst that, their leader quickly intercepts with imbued authority, clearing his throat over the sound of Chanyeol’s play-writhing from Kyungsoo’s physical violation. ‘ What Kyungsoo meant was... we understand you’re working hard. Just please mind your health a little bit more. Kay?’

Junmyeon’s tone had come off like a grown up trying to coerce a child to come down from a fright and Yixing hasn’t yet decided if he’s okay with that. Defensive words hangs by the tip of Yixing’s tongue, but Baekhyun beats him to it, managing to finally read out the telltale of anxiety on how much all this prying attention has got Yixing overwhelmed.

‘Yes, well — first of, I haven’t seen him in months, so all of you back off, yeah?’ Baekhyun says, leaping back to his playful persona, dispelling the moment by hooking both of his arms over Yixing’s with a little force, keeping Yixing for himself and waving away the rowdy crowd. Baekhyun can’t seem to decide between the nagging mother or the clingy puppy now that his nose is rubbing against Yixing’s clothed shoulder, all for show.

A nonsensical argument ensues, especially loud and distinct coming from both Chanyeol and Jongdae.

Yixing burst out in laughter, being reminded of an environment he'd been constantly deprived for a while. By the next hour, he's half considering to tune all these barbaric children out and just walk into his room to admire the peaceful silence in darkness —

But a taunting sight in his peripherals isn’t so easily ignored even if he tried. Yixing could count blessings, even if it poised more like constant torture and awaiting mistakes.

Their eyes meet once and in that brief exchange, Yixing sees him, a pretty pair of crescents, the highlights of his cheeks pulled into prominence when that set of thin lips quirk up into a warm smile, mouthing two simple words.

Welcome home.

____________

Luhan’s strawberry soft cream was starting to drip from the edge of plastic cup and it started to irk Yixing. That, or he was just upset that Luhan was partnered with someone else. Again.

‘Oh Sehun.’

In his bewilderment, Yixing could barely even place a trainee with that name.

But his best friend, Luhan — beautiful, annoying, and arguably the most popular Chinese trainee in the building — elaborated nonetheless, ‘They assigned teams of two for the next monthly evaluation. You got Oh Sehun— the kid who just got to Advance Dance class. Honestly, pay attention, Xing.’

‘But I’m— why can’t I have you instead?’ His lower lip jutted out like that of a child’s.

‘I’m with Kim Jongin. It’s good, right? You should be familiar enough with Oh Sehun. The kid’s always around when you hang with Park Chanyeol after Music class, anyway.’

‘Yes, good,’ Yixing repeated, not really meaning it. Now just catching the very topic walking right into the studio with all the grace a seventeen year old limbs could bring. ‘He dances okay, so alright, yeah, good.’

Luhan laughed, the kind that accentuate those eye wrinkles. ‘Try not to love me too much and be sociable with other people, Xingxing. I’m a busy person.’ And before Yixing could spit out his generic backtalk, Luhan had cut him off with; ‘No, spending time with Yifan isn’t socialising. That dumb oaf is too weak for your princess look and would just cuddle with you to death. No.’

Yixing groaned, walking away from Luhan to where Sehun was standing, but not before he playfully quipped something he had initially meant;

‘Yeah, well, at least Yifan doesn’t talk my ear off about how adorable Kim Minseok‘s cheeks are. Creep.’

An exaggeration of sorts. Yixing never enjoyed a conversation revolving around himself. Anything else would do.

Luhan knew that and indulged anyway.

‘I do not!’

‘Do too!’

____________

After intense debate over the choice of dinner for that evening, Chanyeol ends up sitting between Yixing’s legs by the carpet after switching the channel to a sageuk Yixing has no recollection of ever agreeing to watch. Baekhyun fights everyone else like a possessed dog and claims Yixing’s lap on the couch, while Jongdae sneakily fills the empty space Kyungsoo left (to heat some leftovers for TV nibbles because the others are useless, and it was hopeless to wait on them reaching agreement over what delivery order for the night) on Yixing’s other side. And then there’s a sleepy Minseok, monopolising that one squishiest armchair in the room and nobody protests.

Baekhyun doesn’t shy away from expressing affection nowadays (or ever), which is what drives Yixing into a sandwich between the three loudest humans in their crowd with no way out without being dragged back in or being nagged into it. Yixing is soft like that. Even when Chanyeol digs his perfect white teeth into the surface of Yixing’s washed out jeans for amusement. Even when Baekhyun whines a Jongdae-like aegyo (which Yixing is currently cooing at). Jongdae isn’t too pleased over that and retaliates by going ultrasonic on them until Minseok shushes both dead with a solid whack on each head.

With everyone out in their shared living room, the farthest seated are the two youngest who are having fun inside their own bubble.

Jongin isn’t offering much aside from sharing jokes and giggles into their conversation between the running episode (and occasionally puts up a pout and yells out his protest to counter anyone’s witty remarks thrown at him), but his hand never left Sehun’s; thumb the back surface of the maknae’s palm in the midst of their chatter, their shoulders pressed closely together, leaving no space for anything else, comfortable in each other’s touch.

(Not completely hidden, but enough not to draw attention.)

Yixing stomach churns, and that instinctively led him to print harsh nail shapes onto Baekhyun’s tee, nudging him into sitting a tad higher up so Yixing can wrap his arms around Baekhyun’s tinier frame. It’s something Baekhyun always obliged to without questions — a makeshift comfort, always a source of safe comfort — at least, Yixing prays, until he manages to kill the butterflies.

Just until then.

____________

‘Don't look so sad,’ Luhan murmured to Yixing that one time the former was bedridden with an IV attached to his delicate wrist, their fingers softly linked over the silky blue sheet of Luhan’s bed. ‘I don't like that look on you.’

The sight of Luhan's gaunt cheeks had made something ugly stir in Yixing's stomach. Here, off stage and off camera, without a hint of makeup, Luhan looked unmistakably pitiful — hardly getting better with how so little time they spent out of work. He hated it, the same pattern in his nightmares, over and over again where his brain made up things; a place where Luhan went far — so, so far, until he was out of reach.

(... just like Yifan was.)

‘Quit getting sick, then. I’ll stop looking sad,’ Yixing chided. ‘Sehun is in our dorm all the time now, too, because of you.’

Luhan shifted a little to better his position on the puff mattress, looking straight at Yixing, ‘I’m not sick. Just tired, Xing.’ And there’s that — because Luhan, for whatever reasons, never wanted to look frail and weak even when he looked just that.

‘Sehunnie came to give you the medicine from Seunghwan-hyung when you were asleep.’

Luhan nodded distractedly. ‘He’s such a hopeless goody two-shoes sometimes.’

Yixing’s slight glaring brought about a smile on Luhan’s face. ‘Don’t make fun of him. He’s really worried.’

‘Yes, I wail at his undivided attention over my wellbeing,’ Luhan deadpans, his skinny cold fingers enclosed around Yixing’s palm just out of habit.

‘You do that, but you like it when he gets worried.’ Yixing’s fingers fiddled around Luhan’s, playing with their hold to keep Luhan’s hand warm. ‘You like it when I worry, too — it feeds your stuck up ego.’

‘Wow,’ the corner of Luhan’s mouth upturned mischievously. ‘With that smile you have on, I’m starting to think you actually enjoy feeding my ego. You shouldn’t live to please me, Xing. I mean, imagine you being unable to do anything without me.’

(Thinking back, Yixing should have known that everything Luhan said had never been without meaning.)

‘I can do just about everything easily and live without you,’ Yixing found his voice, swift and unfiltered. When Luhan parted his mouth to throw another jab, Yixing shut him up fast with a grin, ‘Don’t think I ever want to, though.’

A moment of silence before Luhan’s nostrils swell in one exaggerated heave of breath to hike the mock frustration. It failed to serve when the edges of his lips betrayed him and twitched, his throat followed to beat out a melodic ring of laughter. Luhan just ended up coming down with a rough playful slap at Yixing’s cheek.

‘God, so cheesy. Gross. Ew... just off.’

____________

Yixing’s bed creaks again.

The dorm had gone very silent. Most of them had fallen into a coma-like sleep rather fast after the God knows how many bottle of soju they all downed under Baekhyun’s