It starts off when Jongdae’s dad leaves, abandoning him and his mother to fend for themselves. He gets up one day, packs his bags, swipes the emergency stash, and promptly walks out. No note, no sorry. No trace of him is left except for Jongdae and the lines imprinted on his mother’s face.

It’s okay, though, Jongdae tells himself. Even if he comes across his father one day, he wouldn’t need any apologies. It was too late for that—too late the moment Jongdae grabs a loaf of bread and runs—runs and hides behind a dumpster in an alleyway, tears stinging down his cheeks.

His mother doesn’t question him when he brings stuff home, not when she has her hands in her hair in frustration, pouring over bills, after bills, after bills. And when she looks up, looks at Jongdae, her eyes are filled with sadness, sorrow (Jongdae curls into himself when he hears her crying at night).

He doesn’t comment when she sends him off to school with swollen eyes and she doesn’t comment when he comes home with more than he left with.

Jongdae’s in the middle of scoping out his next victim: a middle aged man walking towards him, wallet creating a faint outline in his pocket. Weaving through the crowd, Jongdae keeps his head down as he gets closer to the target, anticipating—

—all of a sudden, a distressed scream pierces through his headpiece, loud enough to shatter his eardrums.

“,” he curses under his breath and yanks it away from his ear for a moment, before putting it back delicately. Another scream comes across the frequency, cutting off prematurely. No one around Jongdae seems to notice and after a moment of deliberation, he reluctantly abandons his target, heading towards the direction of the scream.

The cries and sounds of struggle grow more frantic as Jongdae makes his way down a neighboring alley, getting closer to the source. Looking around and making sure it’s clear, Jongdae closes his eyes and feels himself being pulled into the electric lines above. He travels across the city grid in spurts, along the wires, scoping out the routes and locking onto a certain block.

Jongdae’s all electricity and then he’s human again, deciding to collect himself a street away from the commotion. “Why am I doing this,” he mutters to himself, shaking the buzzing from his limbs.

When he turns the corner, he watches as a little girl determinedly tries to get away from a pair of men. A car idles a few feet away from him and Jongdae grins to himself, snapping his fingers (just to be dramatic) and hearing the engine’s purr dwindle into a sad nothing.

Jongdae presses his earpiece and a holograph flickers across his face, altering it. His jawline becomes less sharp and his eyes become smaller, eyebrows pulling in and growing thicker, rendering him unrecognizable. Satisfied, Jongdae twinkles up to the men, putting a hand on both of their shoulders and startling them. He could definitely get used to this.

“What the fu—“ One of them turns and Jongdae delights in the way the man drops to the ground in the next second, still twitching. Jongdae’s fingers tingle and the other man cowers, throwing his hands up as he whimpers. “What do you want from me?”

The girl breaks away from the man and warily watches Jongdae, who makes no move towards her. Leaning in towards the man, Jongdae says, “Take off your clothes.”

He’s frozen for a second and Jongdae wiggles his fingers at him, sparking electricity between his knuckles. The man yelps and starts stripping, throwing his clothes at Jongdae’s feet and backing away, finally scrambling to run when Jongdae waves him away.

After he’s out of sight, Jongdae crouches down and picks at the discarded trousers, fishing for a wallet and coming out triumphant.

“Mister, aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Hm?” Jongdae looks over.

The girl picks at her skirt and scoots closer to him, tentatively deciding to stand a few feet away. She seems to gather her courage and reaches out, clinging to his sleeve, “Can you take me home?”

Picking out the cash and pocketing it, Jongdae throws the wallet back on the ground and straightens up, taking her hand in his. “Alright princess, we can go once we get you fixed up.” He crouches down and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “Your knight Sir Jongdae has arrived.”

She giggles when he sends out a tiny wave of electricity, tickling her palms. “My name is Seyoon and I’m not a princess!”

“What kind of not-princess has a knight such as myself come to their rescue,” he says, pressing his earpiece and dissipating his hologram, much to Seyoon’s awe.

“Whoa, that’s so cool! How’d you do that?” She asks, tugging at his hand in excitement.

Jongdae winks. “It’s a secret.”

He lets Seyoon lead them through the streets of the city, buying her ice cream along the way with some of the pocketed money.

“It’s the least they can do.” Seyoon nods solemnly and accepts the cone, merrily away at it.

When they arrive at the orphanage, Seyoon hastily crams the rest of the ice cream in and tugs him towards the door. “Lemme show you my brothers, c’mon,” and Jongdae lets her pull him in with a grin.

What he sees inside is a little horrific. The lights flicker and the hallways are unswept. Jongdae frowns as he follows Seyoon through the house and brought to what he assumes is the dining room—except all the kids aren’t seated and there are barely any plates with enough food.

The hand he holds suddenly seems smaller and Jongdae realizes he can most likely count the ribs on everyone in the room. “Here they are!” Seyoon says, unbothered and breaking Jongdae from his thoughts.

Three boys in front of him, huddled around each other, look up warily and dart glances at Seyoon. They all seem older than her and protectively glare at her hand wrapped around Jongdae’s.

She tugs him to sit down and one of them (“Jongin,” Seyoon helpfully whispers) speaks, “Where have you been, Seyoon-ah? You missed lunch.” The other two (“Zitao’s the panda and Yixing’s always looking sleepy”) nod in agreement.

Placidly, she points out Jongdae like he wasn’t the big elephant in the room and recounts the story of what happened earlier. Zitao flares up, “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”

Yixing reaches over the table at her and Seyoon shakes her head, touching Yixing’s hand appreciatively. “Nope, Jongdae saved me, so everything’s okay, don’t worry.” Jongin doesn’t look convinced and Jongdae just sits back, watching the exchange with interest.

He feels a tug at his side and glances over; Yixing shyly ducks his head in a bow and politely mumbles, “Thank you for saving Seyoon. She is very important to us.” At that, Seyoon blushes and grumbles when Jongin and Zitao follow suit.

“Anytime, buddy,” Jongdae says, ruffling Yixing's hair. He looks around and lowers his voice when he sees curious eyes watching. “Do you guys not get enough to eat here?” Jongdae gestures at their plates, “This can't be enough for a meal.”

They all visibly droop and Jongdae wonders if he's said anything wrong. Jongin shakes his head.

“This is the food we saved for Seyoon,” he says and uses his hand to cover a portion of it, “this is what we usually get.”

Seyoon frowns and splits the food back up, giving the boys all an extra portion. “It's okay, Jongdae bought me something so I'm not that hungry.”

Their eyes widen in excitement but Yixing restrains himself and the others, “No, you should still eat—we can always steal something from the kitchen later.”

Jongdae watches as the other two nod slowly in agreement and feels a pang in his chest. He's reminded of the times he's come home and his mother shakily avoids his gaze because of a bare refrigerator. Those are the nights they have late dinners because Jongdae has to find someone to pickpocket or a store to shoplift.

He never takes more than what they need, but the sadness remains in his mother's eyes.

So he leans over the table, catching all of their attention. “Okay guys, if you can promise me you won't steal, I'll come back later and buy you all a big meal. With meat and everything.”

The boys light up, agreeing wholeheartedly and Seyoon wraps her hand around his fingers, twinkling around her missing tooth.

He stays with the kids for a while until his frequency picks up shuffling at the entrance. Pressing a button in his earpiece, Jongdae focuses on the area, listening to the people who have just arrived.

“Thank you, sir, we appreciate it,” a gruff voice says.

There’s more shuffling and another replies, “Just make sure you keep up your side of the deal.”

Jongdae furrows his eyebrows and puts a finger to his lips, flicking on his holographic eye-shield. The display sweeps across his face while he flips through frequencies, bathing the dropped jaws of the boys in blue hues. Seyoon looks on smugly.

Through the security cameras, he watches an exchange progress as money is passed between the two figures. The one wearing a suit leaves shortly after and the other proceeds to make his way towards the dining room. Before he arrives, Jongdae himself up into the lights, watching the room from above.

The chatter that previously permeated the room dies down as the man appears in the doorway. “Have you little s finished your chores yet?” A few kids shy away from him and they all nod timidly. He grumbles to himself and storms out, leaving behind a room of dejected faces.

-

“Xiao Lu has, yet again, saved the day. Earlier this evening, from an overturned bus, Xiao Lu miraculously rescued dozens of civilians from the wreck, moments before the gasoline spread and caused a large explosion—”

-

Jongdae gathers his books under his arm and gets up, getting ready to leave the classroom. He’s almost out the door before he hears, “Oh, before I forget. You’re all going to be assigned a partner for the project next week, so make sure you start thinking about topics.”

A collective groan echoes through the classroom and Jongdae perks up, excited about the mention of something new. Someone brushes past him, almost knocking over his books, and continues without a look back. Their figure disappears into the throng of students and Jongdae’s brow furrows disapprovingly, but he says nothing.

Jongdae makes his way to the courtyard, pulling out his packed lunch, setting the Naruto lunch bag aside. It’s frayed from years of use, but he can’t be bothered to buy a new one. When he’s halfway done his sandwich, someone slings their arm around his shoulders, lodging a piece of meat in his throat.

Pounding his chest, Jongdae makes strangled noises before he clears his throat and squints at the gangly figure. “What the heck, Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol only grins and plops down next to him, “Where were you the other day, man? We missed you at the movies.”

Jongdae swallows the rest of his sandwich, “Oh, right, I—”

He doesn’t notice as a flying projectile moves towards him before it hits him in the face, knocking his glasses askew. Jongdae’s nose throbs and he lifts his hand to touch it, wincing when he sees blood as he pulls away.

“, my bad.” A familiar guy jogs up to them and picks up the soccer ball, “You okay?”

Squawking, Chanyeol unhelpfully stuffs napkins at Jongdae and Jongdae gives the guy an annoyed glance, “Does this look okay to you?”

“Well, if it means anything, I really am sorry,” he says, shifting from one foot to the other. One of the other players shouts something and he lifts his hand sympathetically, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes and holds napkins to his nose, “Why this. Why me.” Chanyeol just laughs.

-

“Oh my god, that stupid soccer guy hit me in the face, again. You’d think he’d know how to aim.” Seyoon hums in agreement as Jongdae runs his fingers through her hair, creating an intricate braid that runs down the length of her back. He secures the braid with an elastic before patting her on the head. “There. All done.”

A light goes out above them, bring the room to an even dimmer state than it was. Flicking his wrist, Jongdae sends a stream of electricity back to all the dead bulbs in an instant. The few other kids in the room coo in amazement and Jongdae sheepishly returns to his task of braiding anything in sight.

“Wait, what do I do next?” Yixing raises the strands of Jongin’s hair questioningly as he tilts his own head forward, hair gathered in the hands of Seyoon. She ties a short braid in the middle of his head and nods in satisfaction. “Unicorn,” she declares delightfully, mostly to herself. Jongin crosses his arms in disgruntlement when Seyoon helps start on the other side of his head.

Zitao splays himself across Jongdae’s lap, forlorn about his hair being too short to mess with, but Jongdae pats his playfully. “And it’s not like I can just zap him or anything, apparently everyone loves him and his stupid face. Even Chanyeol, that traitor.”

“Jongie has a crush,” Seyoon whispers to Jongin conspiringly, fluffing up his bangs in the process. Flailing, Zitao turns and eyes Jongdae, “Do you really?”

“Wha—me? Have a crush? Stop joking,” Jongdae says, narrowing his eyes at Seyoon and the innocent air around her. He almost misses the sound of the front door opening and hurriedly flickers himself into an electrical socket nearby to avoid confrontation.

(“Youngmin,” Jongin sneers, when Jongdae asks them about the man in charge.

Yixing shakes his head sadly, “He uses the orphanage money for favors with a bunch of men. That’s why no one gets enough to eat and sometimes, we have to fight for it.”

Kneeling behind Zitao, Yixing puts his hand on Zitao’s cheek. Much to Jongdae’s surprise, the bruise blossoming underneath Zitao’s skin slowly fades away, blood vessels knitting themselves back together.

“He’s the worst, ever,” Seyoon says, picking at Jongdae’s shirt as he stands there in awe because holy . They others are unbothered and Seyoon pouts, “He takes everything fun away.”

Jongdae looks around because did no one see that? Jesus.)

Jongdae has gone through the records when Youngmin had disappeared and they don’t add up; the money provided for the orphanage is embezzled on a continuous rate and it pains Jongdae to see the kids suffer for it.

Back in his room, he’s looking down at the gadgets he’s been tinkering with and remembers the security cameras, the man in the suit, and Seyoon’s delicate fingers curled around his pinky.

-

“A large group has recently been exposed and arrested due to illegal drug trading and human trafficking. Just last night, Xiao Lu lead authorities to their headquarters and officials are in the process of shutting it down for good—”

-

“Alright, pick a card and find the person with the same one.”

Jongdae eyes his ace of spades and looks around the room, gaze landing on the same card being lazily waved in the air. Making his way over, he deflates when he sees who it is. “Oh, it’s you.”

“What do you even mean, ‘oh it’s you’, we haven’t even officially met yet,” Jongdae’s partner sulks, crestfallen. Sighing, Jongdae turns away and sits down in his new seat, “You made my nose bleed and I hear your name every day on the announcements. We’re good with the introductions.”

Before he can say any more, the intercom crackles to life. “Luhan, please report to Coach Choi’s room immediately. Luhan, please report to Coach Choi’s room.” Jongdae gestures vaguely at the ceiling, “See?”

“I’ll be right back,” Luhan says. Apologetic, he sets his things down on the desk next to Jongdae and quickly leaves the room.

Jongdae spends the rest of the period sketching and laying out his plans, face cupped in his palm as his pen scratches over the paper. Out the window, the skies turn a cloudy grey and he watches the rain start to drizzle down. Class comes to an end and Luhan hasn’t come back, so Jongdae scribbles his number down and tucks it into Luhan’s binder.

When he gets home, his phone vibrates and a notification appears on the screen from an unknown number. Pulling off his wet hoodie, Jongdae taps in his password.

Hey, sorry I bailed, the coach is really passionate about winning the next game.

Jongdae purses his lips and types out a reply, S’cool. Wanna come over later to work on stuff?

The reply is almost immediate and Jongdae hides a laugh at how fast he gets it.

Definitely.

Setting his phone down, Jongdae throws down his backpack and powers on his computer with a flick of his wrist. The monitor fades in and he pulls up his recent research, scrolling down a collection of pictures. Most of them consist of images taken from street cameras, showing Youngmin meeting with a variety of people.

Zooming onto a specific series of photos, Jongdae puts the man in the suit into a facial profiling system. A quick search of the result gives him a basic background of the man. Rising politician. Gives to charities. Overall good image. What a er.

There’s a video of him yelling at a kid for stepping on his shoes somewhere on Jongdae’s desktop. Another one of him smuggling firearms to the mob.

Jongdae pulls up his banking records and scans over the deposits, screenshotting the significant influxes and saving all of the information onto a flashdrive. Disconnecting, Jongdae stuffs the USB into his pocket and heads out, yelling something about a project before the door swings shut.

He walks briskly down the streets and goes in the direction of the library, unperturbed by the sounds of the night life in the city. A few blocks away from his destination, Jongdae hears grunts and sounds of pain coming from behind the next building.

“Just take his wallet and let’s go.”

Without stopping, Jongdae sends out streams of electricity along the puddles, satisfied when he hears bodies dropping to the ground. A boy runs out onto the sidewalk with a fearful expression moments later, but his frame soon sags in relief when he finds nothing.

Jongdae has never really thought about using his powers for something other than himself and his mother, but after the encounter with Seyoon, it almost comes easily to him. He rubs the back of his neck and keeps walking, putting the thought to the side as the library comes into view. His fingers are still tingling.

-

Once he’s in the library, Jongdae plugs in his flashdrive, waiting for everything to upload. Closing his eyes, he seeps a little bit of himself into the mainframe and sends out the uploaded information to any major news companies and the police, making sure to cover his tracks along the way. Being at the library is just another precaution.

When Jongdae’s just about done and is extricating himself from the computer, the library announces their soon approaching closing time.

It’s not his fault a few misplaced videos and pictures landed in the hands of the biggest news outlets of the country. It’s also not his fault that a few hundred grand has been anonymously donated to all the orphanages and pet shelters in the area. (Okay, maybe it is. A little. Jongdae’s sorta smug.)

By the time he arrives at the orphanage, police cars have surrounded the building and Youngmin is being escorted out in handcuffs. The kids are huddled by the doorway and Jongdae spots Seyoon in the middle, bracketed by Jongin and Zitao. Yixing spots him first and the four of them race over, excitedly chattering all at once.

Zitao eyes are wide when he says, “Youngmin is being taken away—”

Clinging to Jongdae, Jongin wrings the first pieces of fabric he can grasp nervously. “Does that mean we won’t—”

“—have a home anymore?” Seyoon looks up at Jongdae, frowning as Yixing holds her hand and rubs her back soothingly. Her voice is small and scared and Jongdae swipes a thumb over her glistening eyes, “‘Course not, princess. We’ll find someone who’ll take good care of you guys.”

-

“Kim Jeongsuk’s blackmailing and embezzling has been brought to light from an evasive hacker, better known as Chen. There has been a change in this particular hacker’s activities and we are all unsure to what has caused this. Kim will be prosecuted along with his accomplices—”

-

Luhan drags himself into his room and throws himself onto his bed. “Great,” he mutters to himself. Just because he’d been checking Jongdae out and Minseok decided to, most helpfully, land the guy with a bloody nose, his new partner already hates him.

Even worse, he’d been called to Coach Choi’s impromptu meeting filled with Fighting Spirit! and Teamwork! and too many overeager freshmen, leaving Jongdae for the whole time. The assistant coach, Jonghyun, had to grumpily drag him away from his own classroom for the meeting to end.

(“On the bright side, you got his digits,” Minseok says, wiggling his eyebrows after they retrieve their bags together and Luhan finds a half-sheet sticking out of his binder.

Luhan whimpers. “He’s so hot, I’d climb him like a tree.”

“Oh, I know you would.”)

Staring at the screen of his phone, Luhan’s surprised when Jongdae texts back and he smiles before tucking his hands under his pillow. He drifts off for a few hours and is startled awake when the front door slams.

Luhan rubs his eyes and clears his throat, walking out of his room to lean over the railing of the stairs, “How was work?” His dad shucks off his uniform and shrugs.

“Arrested a big shot politician who’s been taking money away from little kids. Hell of a lot of paperwork after. The source was probably getting all this info illegally one way or another.” He shakes his head disapprovingly.

Putting his head on his hands, Luhan leans forward in interest, “How so?”

“For one, all of the evidence appeared on everyone’s screen at work today and we couldn’t get rid of it until it appeared on TV on almost every channel. A bunch of foster homes got big amounts of donations electronically, no trace left behind.” He flits a glance at Luhan filled with warning, “Don’t try to get involved yet. We don’t know what this guy is capable of.”

“No promises.” Luhan raises his hands in mock surrender and shrugs, “I could probably take him, though.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, his dad scrubs his hand over his face and ambles towards the kitchen, waving Luhan away dismissively.

The next morning, Luhan arrives to class early, finding his seat in the front of the classroom. Minseok comes in shortly after and ruffles his neatly styled hair, much to his chagrin. “Got a hot date anytime soon?”

“No thanks to you.” Taking an unsuccessful swipe at Minseok with his pencil, Luhan narrows his eyes at Minseok. The window is a terrible mirror, Luhan decides, after trying to fix his hair using the reflection.

“Yeah, if that’s what’ll help you sleep,” Minseok says cheerfully. He takes his seat a few rows away when the bell rings and Jongdae walks in.

Jongdae scans the room and Luhan can feel the tips of his ears heat up when Jongdae’s gaze lands on him. He sits down and unpacks his books, murmuring a “good morning” without giving Luhan another glance.

The lesson begins and Luhan finds himself unable to tear his stare away from Jongdae. It’s just so stupid, forming a crush on someone he barely knows, but Luhan can’t help his inclination to admiring beautiful things. And Jongdae is. Beautiful, that is. With lips curling like they would around—

“Luhan, if you would be so kind to inform us of the answer?” The teacher and the rest of the class looks to him in anticipation, with a mildly patronizing smile coming from the former.

“Uh,” Luhan says dumbly, floundering, before noticing the tick in Jongdae’s eyebrows and his pen tapping a word in the text. He exhales in relief and gives the correct answer, watching as the teacher’s lips straighten and he nods curtly.

Appreciatively, Luhan smiles at Jongdae and he gets a smirk in return. “Next time you want to stare, try closing your mouth. There’s a little drool.” Luhan wipes at his face in alarm and Jongdae snickers, “Kidding.”

“I was not staring,” Luhan protests. “I was admiring.” After a pause, Jongdae furrows his ridiculous(ly attractive) eyebrows and turns away without a word, leaving Luhan confused.

-

What. Jongdae’s in the middle of breaking down because, what. Who says that, who even? Luhan shouldn’t be filling him with some sort of false hope or stringing him along whatever game he’s playing because Jongdae doesn't have time for this .

He refuses to make any kind of eye contact with Luhan no matter how many times Luhan tries. The class drags on and Jongdae becomes increasingly more uncomfortable sitting there, resorting to picking at his paper methodically. By the time the hour is over, his desk is sprinkled with a mess of scrap paper.

Before he gets up to leave, Luhan grabs his arm with a surprising amount of force, prompting him to stand still. “Look, I’m sorry if what I said offended you in any way.”

Deep breaths. Calm down.

Jongdae’s silent for a moment before he sighs and turns back to face Luhan. “No, it’s okay. I just. You caught me off guard; don’t worry about it,” he says, feeling Luhan’s grip loosen in relief.

Clutching the strap of his bag, he starts to walk to his next class. Luhan’s hand drops back to his side and Jongdae mindlessly rubs the place Luhan had gripped. “So, does tonight sound good? Your house?”

It’s not that Jongdae’s embarrassed by his own home, but it would save him from having to answer a lot of personal questions. Luhan pauses to think for a second and slowly nods in agreement.

“Yeah, that sounds cool. I'll text you the address later," Luhan says, walking beside him and falling into a strangely comfortable silence. When they separate to go to their respective classes, Jongdae bites back a smile the whole time.

Right after school, Jongdae heads over to the orphanage, making a stop at the ice cream shop on the way.

Hitching his backpack on his shoulder, Jongdae leisurely moves to cross the street when suddenly, he is shoved to the ground and the weight of his bag is gone. By the time he picks himself up, the person who stole his bag is already a block away.

Looking around, Jongdae realizes there’s too many people around him, some of them watching him with sympathy. He breaks into a jog to get away and, after surveying the area, he slips into an empty alleyway.

“Why me,” Jongdae mutters, before closing his eyes and feeling his whole body disintegrate into electrons and protons. He flits from street camera to street camera, keeping a location on the thief and getting himself ready for confrontation.

When the person runs past a mostly-empty playground, Jongdae gathers himself a few feet away from them, waiting for his body to fully form again. Dumbfounded, the thief freezes. “, man, I just wanted to—”

Jongdae pulls his hood over his head before his face can come into view and sends out a zap, just strong enough to knock the guy in front of him out. Stalking over and taking his bag, Jongdae rolls the man over with his foot, bored.

Jongdae’s earpiece flickers a hologram over his face, rendering him unrecognizable to any person or camera around him. On the way back to the orphanage, Jongdae drops the man a few feet away from the police station’s entrance, wrists zip-tied and still knocked out.

He arrives at the doorstep of the orphanage with a bag of sundaes, ringing the bell and stepping back to wait.

The door opens to reveal a man in his twenties, hair dyed platinum-blonde, smile overtaking his whole face. “Junmyeon,” he says, holding out his hand to Jongdae. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Jongdae shakes his hand and tries to look over Junmyeon’s shoulders, “Likewise. Are Seyoon and the others home?”

“They’re in the middle of an art lesson right now. You’re welcome to join,” Junmyeon says, twinkling. It’s then when Jongdae notices the frilly apron the other man is wearing and how it’s covered in splatters of paint.

Jongdae laughs and follows him to the dining hall, nodding approvingly at the newly installed lights and refurbished interior. The kids are all seated and painting in the room, happily chattering with each other. When Jongdae walks in, he spots Seyoon and the others surrounding a table working on a large poster.

Seyoon looks up and beams at Jongdae as he makes his way over. “Jongdae, look! We painted you.” Zitao nods gravely as he meticulously paints Jongdae’s hair and face onto the poster, squinting at Jongdae every so often when he looks up.

Jongdae sits down and puts his arm around Jongin, who turns his head and pretends to bite Jongdae’s arm. “Whoa, no biting. Not if you want,” Jongdae brandishes his haul of ice cream, “this.”

Jongin stops mid-bite and grins. Handing them each their portions, Jongdae sits back and watches as they continue to paint, taking turns for snack breaks.

Yixing plops down on the table, crossing his legs and away. “Seyoon said we’re her family,” Yixing says softly. “Even though the theme was to paint what we picture our future family to be.”

Jongdae reaches over and wipes Yixing’s cheek, smiling. “You guys are mine, too.”

-

“Recently arrested, the thief in question describes a blur that magically appeared in front of him before everything went black. Local police came out to find him unconscious and when he came to, he was already behind bars—”

-

“You’re really good at computers, aren’t you,” Luhan says, peering over Jongdae’s shoulder to look at the computer screen. Jongdae shrugs, “Just the basics, nothing much, really.”

When Jongdae turns his head, Luhan is hovering a mere inches away. His eyes fall to the dip and curve of Luhan’s lips, perfect except for an almost unnoticeable, flesh-colored, scar. Swallowing hard, Jongdae tears his gaze away and focuses back on his screen, trying to type in simple coding without faltering.

Jongdae feels the tips of his fingers sparking and he clenches his hands into fists, whirling around suddenly in his chair. He needs a distraction. “So. What’s your deal? You’re all friendly to everyone and they all love you, but no one knows anything about you.”

This time, it’s Luhan who shrugs. He walks backwards to sit on his bed and looks at the ceiling. His throat is pale and Jongdae wants to litter it with bruises, just to see the stark contrast of the two.

“Never really had any real friends to talk to, you know? Besides Minseok, but he’s weird,” Luhan says, sighing. “Move to a new country. You’re exotic and nice to look at, but no one wants to touch you.”

Jongdae nods his head in sympathy, recalling all the times his classmates had picked on him for not having a father, or for having too-small clothes. It wasn’t his fault he and his mother had to live paycheck to paycheck, but people weren’t so understanding.

The change in subject causes the tingling in his palms to die down to a faint buzz, but Jongdae can’t stop his eyes from wandering over to Luhan over the course of the night.

-

After Jongdae leaves his house, Luhan rolls over his bed and grabs a remote, flipping open a compartment and pressing the hidden button. A panel in his wall slides open and Luhan throws on a jacket and mask.

A radio is hooked up, designed to listen in on the police frequencies, which crackles to life. There’s a fire six blocks away, with a request put in for multiple ambulances as Luhan finishes gearing up and closes the panel.

When Luhan arrives at the scene, most of the residents of the building have already evacuated. He catches some murmuring about a certain woman still possibly being trapped and runs in, unconcerned by the fire at his feet.

Concentrating, Luhan creates an air bubble around himself, unflinching as he walks through the flames. A beam creaks and he waves a hand, sending it flying to the other side of the fiery room before it collapses.

Making his way to the higher floors, he hears distressed cries coming from a closet and heads over. When he slides it open, a woman shies away from the heat before looking to him in fear.

Luhan holds out a hand. “Let me help you,” he says assuringly, slowing coming forward to envelop her with the bubble as well. She coughs from the smoke and he puts her arm around his shoulders, leading her to the exit.

Before they leave, she shakes her head, “My baby. My baby is still in there.”

“We have to get you out first. I promise I’ll come back for your baby, we just need you to be safe first,” Luhan says, trying to coax her out of the building. She’s intent on going back and Luhan has no other choice than to carry her out wailing, making his exit as quick as possible.

Once she’s safely behind the yellow tape, he’s about to go back in when she cries out in relief, stretching her arms out to a figure behind him. An unfamiliar man steps forth with a baby wrapped securely in his arms and hands it to the mother, nodding only slightly when she thanks him repeatedly.

Narrowing his eyes, Luhan turns to the man. “How did you get out? It’s impossible for anyone to go in there.”

The stranger studies him for a few extended seconds before something seemingly clicks in his head. Disregarding what conclusion he had come to, the stranger smirks, “How did you get out?” As Luhan opens his mouth to retort, the man fades into nothingness, leaving only traces of an amused laugh behind.

-

, Jongdae thinks. Luhan is that famous Xiao Lu who keeps appearing on the news as the mysterious superhero of the city. Of course he had to go and start liking the one guy who would most likely disapprove of his methods and lifestyle. Or the guy who would be the one to land Jongdae behind bars.

Putting his head in his hands, Jongdae lets out an exasperated noise and checks his phone out of frustration. A message from Chanyeol reads Dude, where are you.

Not home yet. Why? Jongdae’s in the middle of considering whether he should stop by and visit Seyoon and the others when his phone vibrates again. I’ll come where you are. Gonna die of boredom.

He texts Chanyeol where to go and he arrives at the orphanage early. Junmyeon opens the door and lets Jongdae in without a question about the soot on his face, only flashing a welcoming smile and waving towards one of the bedrooms.

Chanyeol arrives when Jongdae’s in the middle of rolling on top of Jongin and Zitao, who groan loudly about how heavy he is. Yixing politely drops his building blocks and goes up to Chanyeol, linking their fingers as he leads Chanyeol into the room.

He's bewildered until Jongdae looks up and grins, “I told them you were coming. They like having visitors.”

Letting Yixing drag him over to sit, Chanyeol picks up the blocks and attempts to add to Yixing and Seyoon’s sculpture. “So what's up with you recently?” Chanyeol pouts, “You never have time for me anymore.”

Jongdae grimaces at Chanyeol jokingly before sitting up, serious. “Actually, I have something to tell you.”

At Chanyeol's raised eyebrows, Jongdae recounts all of the recent events. Chanyeol blinks, “Wait, you mean you have powers?”

“Is that all you got from this,” Jongdae deadpans.

Shaking his head, Chanyeol raises his hand in front of his face. “No, but like, same.” Before Jongdae can question him, Chanyeol’s hand is suddenly engulfed in flames, much to everyone’s surprise. In a flicker, it goes out and Chanyeol rubs his neck sheepishly, “Whoops. Got a little too excited there.”

Jongin hops over, eyes starry. “Fire man, do it again!” He looks to Jongdae for help and only gets more distressed when Jongin climbs into his lap.

“Chanyeol, I called you hear for a reason, oh my god. You have to help me; what do I do with Luhan?”

Jongin and Zitao giggle as Chanyeol repeatedly lights a small flame on his fingers. “I don’t know, man. Nothing? He’s a good guy right? You probably should be fine.” He whirls his head around, “But don’t quote me on that. If your life is ruined, nothing’s on me.”

Rolling his eyes, Jongdae flops back down and moans, “I’m so screwed.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Chanyeol ducks when a pillow is thrown at him, almost accidently singeing the fabric. Seyoon and Yixing cry out when he leans back too far and knocks down their carefully constructed empire.

-

“The fire on 12th street has been put out after many hours of work and cooperation from the fire department. Thanks to Xiao Lu and an unknown individual, there were no casualties sustained—”

-

Chanyeol’s eyes are impossibly bigger than usual as he stares unnaturally at Jongdae, who is in the middle of shoving a sandwich in his mouth. They’re eating lunch at the courtyard and Luhan kicks a soccer ball to Minseok a few feet away.

“How do you do it?” Chanyeol whispers conspiringly, to which Jongdae pushes his head away, annoyed. “I mean, yeah, people have powers, but it’s not like we flaunt it and become the city’s most-loved vigilante.”

“Just pretend you don’t know anything.” Moments later, Luhan slides into the seat next to Chanyeol, flashing his teeth. Minseok follows suit, sitting across from them and saluting Jongdae, “Sup.”

Chanyeol freezes before shoveling his lunch into his mouth in a rush, choking a little in the process. Patting his back sympathetically, Luhan turns to Jongdae with a blinding smile. “Did you want to come over this weekend to wrap the project up?”

“Yeah, we can put the finishing touches on the poster and I’ll need a little time to perfect the code. When are you free?”

If Luhan notices Chanyeol eying him in newfound distrust, he doesn’t mention it. “Whenever.” The corner of Jongdae’s mouth ticks up as he crumples his napkin along with his trash, ignoring the loud pulse of his heart.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Jongdae says, standing up to throw away his trash. Chanyeol scrambles after him, mumbling a “see ya” around the food in his mouth. As they walk away, Jongdae stuffs his hands in his jacket, body prickling.

-

“Smooth,” Minseok says, a little impressed. “But that Chanyeol kid was acting weird.”

Luhan shrugs, stretching out his legs on the bench and smiling to himself. Throwing his wooden stirring stick at Luhan, Minseok rolls his eyes in mock disgust before raising his coffee to his lips, “You’re disgusting.”

They go to their next class together and Minseok in his teeth when Luhan almost bumps into a pole on his way there. He shakes his head, exasperated.

Later that day, Luhan bends over to tie his sneakers and leaves his house, breaking into a light jog. He’s a few miles in when people towards him, panic etched on their faces. Pulling out his earphones, he stops one of them. “What’s going on?”

The woman shakes her head and points over a few streets, “Some freak storm came out of nowhere. No one knows what to do or how to stop it.”

Luhan thanks her and runs over, concentrating on putting a spring in his step. What he sees when he rounds the corner should be impossible, but he knows better. Waving his hand, Luhan makes an invisible barrier, protecting himself as he gets closer to the building tornado in the middle of the street.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash that disappears into one of the buildings. Luhan ignores it and keeps going, the wind forcing him to anchor himself to the ground with every step.

Moments later, there is another flash closer to the source of the wind. A person appears and Luhan has to blink a few times—the figure is almost transparent.

Luhan squints and all of a sudden, he can’t feel the air in his lungs. (Metaphorically. Also, literally, because the shock disrupts the formation of his barrier and he can’t catch his breath.)

It’s Jongdae.

-

Jongdae’s in the middle of his homework when his computer flashes, patching through a police report about an emergency near the orphanage. He pulls on a hoodie and turns on his hologram mask before rushing out.

When he arrives at the scene, people are screaming and running away, hiding in neighboring alleys and behind cars. There’s what seems to be a tornado wreaking havoc on the street, picking up stray trash cans and riping bicycles from their secured positions.

The telephone poles sway dangerously and Jongdae makes his way closer to the source of destruction, struggling to stay on the ground.

Jongdae can see Yixing through the orphanage window, waving his hands in panic. Seconds later, Jongdae pulls himself out of the lights in the orphanage, appearing behind Yixing and the two boys.

“What’s going on?”

Jongin turns around, vexed. “One of the older kids kept picking on Seyoon and she got frustrated and suddenly, all this wind kept blowing around her and now she can’t stop!”

“Jongdae, please help her,” Zitao whimpers, teary eyed, with Yixing and Jongin nodding in agreement.

“Alright, just stay here, okay? Don’t try to do anything,” Jongdae says, already letting himself be into the electrical wires weaving back outside.

Instead of fully forming, Jongdae decides to stay holographic and moves closer to the tornado. Through the fray, Jongdae can make out a small silhouette in the middle. He touches his earpiece to dissipate his mask and pulls down his hood, yelling, “Seyoon-ah!”

“Seyoon, please, stop! It’s me, c’mon, you gotta calm down, princess!” A figure shifts next to him, but Jongdae doesn’t turn to look at who it is (though he already has a good idea).

He slowly moves closer, wincing when branches phase through his body. “Seyoon, just breathe! Concentrate on me, concentrate on something, okay? I’m coming to get you, don’t be scared, just calm down!”

Entering the ball of wind, Jongdae can finally make out Seyoon, curled up in a ball in the middle. Reaching out, he materializes and wraps his arms around her body, feeling her flinch against him, tense. She looks up at him with tear-streaked cheeks and finally relaxes.

Jongdae presses his forehead against hers, “It’s okay, Seyoon. I’m here.”

“They said you would leave us. Y—you’d leave me—” Seyoon blubbers in his arms, clinging onto his collar, “Please don’t leave me.”

Jongdae feels his chest pang and he shushes her. The wind around them dies down and Jongdae smiles, holding her closer, “A knight would never leave his princess.”

-

Luhan isn’t freaking out. Luhan may be freaking out. Luhan? He’s definitely freaking out.

He paces around his room and bites at his thumbnail stressfully. His other hand holds his phone, which is in the middle of dialing someone. “Yo.”

“Minseok, you won’t believe—I just—Jongdae has powers—”

Luhan can almost see Minseok smirking over the line. He wants to punch Minseok in the face. “You just put that together?”

Stopping his pacing, Luhan scowls at the wall and kicks his chair lightly. He switches the phone to his other ear. “How did you know?”

“If you didn’t seclude yourself from the supernatural community, you’d know, you know. Chanyeol’s my friend,” Minseok coughs and clears his throat suspiciously. “We tell each other things.”

Luhan sinks into his chair in resignation, “Yeah, post-.”

“I hate you,” Minseok says, hanging up.

Luhan smirks. Small victories.

-

So—Jongdae’s pretty sure Luhan knows about him. Especially since anyone without supernatural powers wouldn’t have been able to get that close to Seyoon.

Still, he it up and appears on Luhan’s front step, nervously picking at a loose string on his shirt. They’ve still got a project to do.

“Hey,” he hears, and he looks up to see Luhan braced against the doorframe, smiling softly at him.

“Hey,” Jongdae says, fidgeting. “About the other day—”

Luhan his head to the side, “So you were that guy who saved the baby at the fire?” Jongdae nods, drooping and getting ready for rejection. “Has there been anything else you’ve done?”

“You know that politician who got caught taking money from kids? And the donation right after his arrest?”

Drawing back, Luhan’s jaw drops. “No. That was you, too? Wait. You’re Chen?”

Nodding again, Jongdae takes a dejected glance at Luhan and is surprised when he sees admiration. Jongdae blinks, “You’re not bothered? That was illegal, you know.”

Luhan laughs and surges forward to grab Jongdae, pulling him close. “That’s hot.”

Moving to close the door, Luhan leans back in and brushes his nose with Jongdae’s. Lashes fluttering, Jongdae holds his breath as Luhan searches his eyes. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” Jongdae mumbles. Luhan closes the space between them and Jongdae sees brightness behind his lids and a stream of electricity runs down his spine. It makes his toes curl and stomach somersault.

When they separate, Luhan looks like he’s been shocked and his mouth stretches into a dopey grin. “I could definitely get used to this.”

-

Jongdae intertwines his fingers with Luhan's and leads him to the building, disregarding Luhan's anxious babbling. “You’ll be fine, relax.”

They arrive and Junmyeon opens the door, beaming, “They’ve been waiting for you.” Just as he says this, four blurs race towards them and Jongdae is almost tackled to the ground.

They break away from him and Seyoon takes a step towards Luhan shyly, “Is this your stupid soccer guy?” Yixing takes Luhan’s other hand and brings them into the orphanage, dimpling.

Ruffled, Luhan gapes at Jongdae, “Stupid soccer guy?” Jongdae innocently looks away as Jongin pokes Luhan in various places, cutting off any other questions.

Suddenly, Jongdae stops in his tracks. “Wait. Does this mean you’ve been cheating during your soccer games or something?” His gasp is scandalized.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I don’t need any powers to play soccer. I’m just naturally that good,” Luhan preens.

Chanyeol and Minseok are already in one of the rooms, playing around with the other kids. Around the room, a small snowman shuffles after one of the toddlers.

“Sanghyukkie, don’t let it catch you!” Zitao shrieks, bouncing in place excitedly. Sanghyuk furrows his eyebrows in concentration and waddles faster towards Chanyeol. Tumbling into Chanyeol’s lap, he giggles.

When Chanyeol lets out a flame, it melts the snowman and the kids look on with conflicted expressions. Sanghyuk marvels at Chanyeol along with the others, eyes sparkling. “Pretty,” he coos, grabbing at Chanyeol’s appendages. Minseok looks on fondly.

Jongdae and Luhan take a seat around the kids as well, fingers still linked. “Seokkie told us you can make us fly,” Seyoon says after planting herself in front of Luhan. Before she can continue, she yelps as Luhan levitates her a few feet off the ground.

A bunch of kids start surrounding Luhan, requesting to be next and poking at him in wonder. Luhan looks to Jongdae for help, but Jongdae can only beam at him encouragingly.

After a while, Luhan has relaxed and easily floats several people at once, Jongdae included. He laughs when Jongdae flails in the air and his smile is the brightest thing Jongdae has ever seen.

Jongdae could get used to this.

(Also: the , unsurprisingly, is amazing.)