this is a horrible idea.

back home, jongin can barely count the number of requirements he’d have to hand in by the end of his final junior year semester before he can actually officially declare that he’s free of anything that has to do with the kondratieff wave and keynesian economics (and the ing velocity of circulation).

but baekhyun had insisted on playing a round (or two. or three. four?) of laser tag to celebrate the end of a nerve-wracking academic year. jongin had still been rapping along to “fear the boom and bust” when baekhyun had marched into his dorm holding hands with a very amused and confused (and lovestruck) sehun.

not that jongin is complaining, really. he’d missed his friends terribly as he laughs at chanyeol’s obnoxious jokes and kyungsoo’s impending death threats thrown towards baekhyun and jongdae’s sassy remarks on his lack of social wit. sehun almost snorts his milk tea out through his nose towards zitao’s disgusted protests at yifan’s oddity and twisted humor, while he overhears minseok and junmyeon discuss the looming responsibilities of adulthood in the near future (you’re graduating, not eloping to fiji, he catches yixing grumble).

and then there’s luhan—all bright eyes and varied shades of sunshine and song, giggling through his hands with fondness like he’s as delighted as jongin to have everyone pining over each other in a mess of merrymaking and cheerful noise. but when he catches jongin’s gaze, eyes wide with mirth and a little something like mischief, jongin forgets how to breathe.

this is a horrible, horrible idea.
 

jongin thinks they look rather ridiculous with blinking green lights on their chests, more so with laser guns that shoot off infrared bullets (science, chanyeol gasps geekily with awe). they play a game of black and white, and jongin is grouped with yifan, jongdae, chanyeol, baekhyun, and junmyeon, and he tries to swallow down his disappointment that luhan is in the opposing team.

it’s a first for most of them that even the ever so calm and collected yixing pokes through his equipment with wonder and glee. beside him, luhan looks just amazed and a little anxious. jongin thinks it’s cute, and , he just really wants to ask him out.

it’s been three ing years, sehun had said earlier before leaving, hand still very much laced around baekhyun’s, it’s about time!

jongin tries not to think about it.

an alarm blares, and the gates slowly open to reveal the stadium, ominous but playfully inviting that jongin feels his pulse quicken with excitement. he watches baekhyun steal a kiss from sehun’s pouted lips before dashing through the maze, laughter echoing across the laser lights and smoke-screened arena as sehun gives chase, armed with revenge, a devious smirk, and a gun.

from then on, it becomes mayhem.

somewhere near the exit, junmyeon wails dramatically at zitao’s point blank shot, life vest glaring red at the contact. yixing trips over an erected foam wall, shooting jongdae accidentally in the process of face-planting on the ground, and chanyeol takes this as an opportunity to eliminate yixing himself while zitao is pushed against the wall with a victorious laugh from yifan. the taller man’s smile is wicked with victory under the red lights.

jongin makes a swift turn from behind a pillar to shoot minseok, missing an aim from a now furious kyungsoo, who effectively kills chanyeol and yifan with two clear shots, but falls on his knees as jongin shoots him from behind. sehun manages to catch baekhyun, arms coming in from behind to trap him in until baekhyun goes lax from protesting and the fight comes to a draw with both of their vests glaring red. (jesus ing christ, jongdae shouts from the sidelines, this isn’t some soap opera!)

and it occurs to jongin, as he watches his two friends join the others on the side, that victory is in either his or luhan’s hands. he’s determined to take the crown, moving from pillar to pillar, but there is a certain degree of nervousness knowing that luhan could be lurking somewhere in the shadows. but it comes as a surprise to him that they meet right in the middle of the stadium, guns raised even as their game faces melt into timid smiles.

hi, luhan whispers, and jongin becomes all too aware of the whirring neon lights and the buzzing sound of life from his vest, streaks of red, green, and blue dancing across luhan’s face. hello, jongin responds, confidence waning under luhan’s studious gaze. noticing his apprehension, jongin offers a truce. if i’m going down, you’re coming down with me. but without warning, luhan shoots him to his death—hey, that’s not fair! but jongin really just wants to kiss that smile off his face more than anything.

so he does just that.

luhan’s lips taste like a dream as they move slowly beneath jongin’s like he’d been waiting too long for it to happen. luhan’s eyes remain close when they part, breathing against jongin’s mouth in gentle wisps of air, and it doesn’t matter that their friends are hooting and whining and making obscene sounds of satisfaction and disappointment over the loss, you could’ve had him, jongin, because luhan pressed against him is way better than any other victory he could’ve won.

later, when the victors are rewarded with a free meal jongin doesn’t mind spending on, he holds luhan’s hand tight and hopeful under the table, and in a low, bashful voice, he asks, will you go out with me?

luhan’s smile is all kinds of wonderful. it’s about god damn time.