if music was a drug, then jongin was absolutely ing hooked. his dealer? wolfgang amadeus mozart.

"ing seriously, jongin," jongdae snarled, throwing open the bedroom door. "will you just let us ing sleep?"

jongin glances over at his speakers, currently blasting the violin concerto in g major (k. 216, 1775). "uhhh..." he hesitates before smiling brightly. "nope, sorry, hyung!"

the last thing he remembers is jongdae's fist flying at his face.

***

"excuse me, sir?"

jongin wakes up with a start. "wha no jongdae no," he mumbles out, bringing up a hand to shield himself. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'll turn it off..."

"sir, we have arrived at mr. mozart's home." jongin opens his eyes to find a somewhat-disgruntled white man staring at him. a closer look tells him that he - and jongin himself - are wearing some sort of red velvet, huge heavy powdered wigs (jongin can feel his on his neck), and terribly unfashionable white stockings and black shoes. the outfit is horrible. oh, and he's sitting in a carriage.

"o-oh, yes." he automatically steps out. "um, we're here for... what again?"

the carriage driver looks at him like he's grown three heads. "sir, you've been talking about his first public concert in three years for at least ten days now. nonstop."

jongin suddenly has a flash of 'what the is going on', but the joy leaps up within his heart. "right!" he exclaims, walking right across the lawn. "let's go!"

but it's not the driver who follows him; it's a shockingly-mute baekhyun. jongin nearly jumps out of his skin. "hyung!" he exclaims, not knowing what to do. "h-hyung, what..."

baekhyun sighs through his nose and shakes his head imperceptibly. jongin looks around. people are staring. quickly, he turns and walks towards the mansion. at the front, a guard stops him. "name and title?"

jongin freezes. his name is kim jongin, but what's his title? thankfully, baekhyun steps forward and announces, "jongin kim, of the korean royal court." jongin's mind blanks out. korean royal court? what the ? oh, and aren't they in austria? how can they suddenly understand austria? jongin doesn't even know if  he can speak austrian.

suddenly, baekhyun grabs his arm and drags him through the gate. "i told you not to call me hyung," baekhyun hisses through clenched teeth. "it's different when we're at home, but here, in public, you do not address me at all."

ahh, that's what's up. baekhyun seems to be jongin's trusted servant or helper, someone he's familiar enough with to call hyung. but rules are different in the outer world, and he's not supposed to address baekhyun familiarly.

"mr. jongin kim!" someone announces loudly, as jongin and baekhyun reach the foot of a fancy staircase. "of the korean royal court!"

***

jongin, apparently, has been granted a private session. he sits outside the room, smiling nervously at everyone who passes. they're all ladies and lords, he thinks, all dressed up fancy in lace and velvet with heavily powdered wigs on their heads. jongin's own wig itches, and he wants to fling it away. but by the stony look on baekhyun's face, jongin thinks it's best to endure.

the sun goes down through the window, and the warm rays fall directly on his face. jongin leans back against the wall, sighing in contentment. the warmth washes over him, and his eyelids flutter shut.

"mr. kim?"

the soft voice has jongin scrambling to his feet. "uh, yes, yes, that's me." he raises his head and meets soft brown eyes. nannerl, mozart's sister.

she laughs softly. "yes, sir." her voice rings like silver bells, and jongin feels himself enchanted. "my brother will see you now."

jongin feels a sharp elbow in his ribs, and he jumps. "y-yes!" face burning, he scurries into the room after nannerl. damn, why must he be such a loser?

as soon as he steps foot into the room, the entire vibe changes. wolfgang amadeus mozart is gorgeous. jongin feels his heart drop from his chest to his toes and then soar up to beyond his head. the young man smiles, and jongin's breath stops.

"hello, sir." holy , even his voice. "i have looked forward to meeting you." he walks forward, and jongin only hopes he doesn't look too much like an idiot. "i'm sure you know who i am." damn right i do. "but you may call me wolfgang if you wish."

jongin feels his face burning. "i-i'm jongin," he stutters, and subconsciously wonders if he's speaking korean or austrian. "you can call me jongin."

"jongin," wolfgang repeats in that angelic voice of his, a slight smile on his face. "well, would you like to sit?"

***

after the private showing, wolfgang takes jongin to the back garden. they've grown quite close during the last hour, and wolfgang seems to be fascinated with jongin. it's only then that jongin realizes that the genius is younger than him by a year. in another world, he would be calling me hyung. the mere thought of it makes him want to giggle, and it seems that wolfgang is much more relaxed after knowing their age difference.

"let's go, i need to show you the peacocks!" he exclaims, taking jongin's hand. jongin can hear his heartbeat thundering, but at the same time, he wants to scream in joy that he's actually friends - friends! - with the most genius composer to have ever lived.

the rest of the afternoon passes in a soft, dreamlike state. wolfgang's eyes, his voice, his laugh. jongin is enchanted by everything about him.

"i think i'm in love with you," he breathes. wolfgang stops in the middle of talking about papa haydn and tilts his head.

"i wouldn't mind that," he says, cheeks flushing dust pink. jongin is out of his seat in a flash, taking his face into his hands, pressing his lips against his. they're soft, like rosebuds, warm and tentative. jongin is so in love with wolfgang.

suddenly, a screech breaks them apart. baekhyun bursts out from the bushes, an african-american man following him. jongin shakes his head and blinks. is that... it can't be... former us president barack obama?

"leave me the alone!" baekhyun screeches, diving behind a flustered wolfgang. "go away, stalker!"

"you must accept yourself for who you are," obama pleads in a deep voice. "baby byun, please, accept your sins."

the is going on? baekhyun drops his jaw and screams, but what comes out is suho's voice. "i've told you again and again, it's rude to clock people out! it's even worse if they're your teammate!"

wolfgang pauses, looking at jongin with lusty eyes, and his lips slowly. jongin feels his tight pants tightening even more. he his own lips and reaches out...

"ING HELL!"

jongin wakes up with a start, only to find suho and jongdae having a full-on fight in the living room, where they are. that's odd since jongin remembers blacking out in his room, where jongdae had punched him, but he's not going to question it. as suho anda jongdae are still fighting, jongin quietly slips away, hands over the tent in his pants. he needs to get rid of this... he'll focus on the feel of wolfgang's satin lips, imagine the way his hands would feel, the sounds he would make...

FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIANLLY FINISHED RHJESKRD this was amazing to write LOL i love crack-- i really really hope you like it!!! because i literally wrote the tiest ever LOL