Yixing has a problem, or at least, that’s what Luhan is convinced. 

            The Changsha Prince doesn’t agree in the slightest, argues his point any time Luhan and him have free time in their shared room to discuss the issue at hand.  Each time he presents his case, the Beijing Boy has an entire arsenal of recent scenarios and slipups where Yixing’s argument is proven false, pulled apart at the seams by a single thread of thin silk.  Every time this happens, that Luhan tears down his denials and knocks down his fallacies, he’s forced to rebuild the walls and put back up the barriers he’s spent months trying to create and fortify.

            It’s through sheer will and determination that he hasn’t given in to the desire to ruthlessly maul Luhan while he sleeps.  But more torturous than leaving the Beijing Boy alive is the way his heart is slowly  but surely falling in on itself and crumbling into a mere figment of his imagination.

            Yixing has but one heart and unfortunately, he had to give it away to somebody—a somebody he can’t help but deny.

            One sly, monstrous and absolutely harmless Kim Jongdae. 

            Just the name causes him unimaginable pain.

            It didn’t start out like this, though.  The merciless pain and endless struggle Yixing faces daily to hide his everlasting infatuation is newfound and only a recent addition to the previous symptoms that one Doctor Lu Han diagnosed as him being royally and brutally ed—word for word diagnosis, oddly enough.  But in the beginning, the obsession was not so much centered on Jongdae and more so on his beautiful voice.  Because Yixing appreciates beautiful things, finds luxury in praising them to the best of their degree, and never lets a chance slip to enjoy the grandeur of something that doesn’t get nearly as much attention as it deserves.  While Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were recognized in Korea immediately for their vocal talents, Jongdae chose to face the challenge of conquering China where his abilities and talent were sadly underrated when compared to the face of Kris or the wushu of Tao.

            So Yixing took the task of informing him just how good he is.  In his opinion, there were no singers in EXO who could out-sing Jongdae.  Baekhyun and Kyungsoo could try, even Joonmyun and Luhan could put up a fight, but there was no contest when it came to the mind of the Changsha Prince.  Not because there was something different about Jongdae that the others didn’t have, but because there was a quality they lacked.  Something about the way his voice rang out on stage or the way he put so much emotion and strain into a single line of chorus automatically out matched the others.  His singing had heart, had soul.  It flooded the ears with sound, feelings that rushed through the body and implored whatever emotions Jongdae wanted you to feel, that the song called for you to feel.  And suddenly, you became a puppet to Jongdae, allowing him to sway you and play with your strings with every note that escaped his sensitive and powerful vocals.

            That kind of appreciation and worship led from one thing to another, from Yixing calmly listening to Jongdae practice his vocals in his room to going out of his way to find the other in a practice room, standing by the door, heart pounding as he hoped to god no one found him snooping and creepily watching the main singer.  He could’ve very easily came up with an excuse—I need help with this note, my range isn’t that high or his pronunciation was a little off with this line last performance, I just want to help—but in the moment his mind is too caught up with the energy and emotion flowing from Jongdae’s voice to think straight or reason out why he’s so desperate to hear a voice he should be damn sick of. 

            And despite the fact he adores his voice, Yixing never makes the choice to tell Jongdae about this.  He keeps it locked away, secretly humming his parts to himself as he lies in bed reading, hearing Jongdae’s voice instead of his own.  Instead, he does his best to do nothing but smile at him encouragingly and be the gege who supports him from the sidelines.  After all, Jongdae has the unanimous support of Kris, Luhan, and Xiumin—the Big Three, as Tao calls them—all of whom know just what to say, just what to do to keep a bright, happy smile on Jongdae’s face before and after a performance.  Yixing lacks the creativity and insight to do that.  He chooses instead to stand by Tao, quietly nodding his head as Luhan and Jongdae once again spend hours memorizing a Chinese melody together.

            And just like that, an appreciation for his voice turned into a quietly odd infatuation.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            The whole band is back in Korea again, not for long, but long enough, Yixing figures, for everyone to get out the mixed feelings and separation anxiety they’ve been feeling for months now.  K is still busy promoting and performing in Korea, but M is taking a break, coming back to meet up for a couple of joint performances.  To be honest, Yixing is nervous for once and very anxious.  He’s not worried about how his Korean will sound—months of speaking Chinese in China and he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten Korean completely—or how M will do on a Korean stage.  Instead, he’s worried about how the fans will perceive them joining together.  He’s nervous not because he feels they won’t do well, he’s nervous because he feels like M won’t be appreciated.

            Chinese fans have come to love them, or most of them.  Variety shows and a host of appearances on music programs have led to the group overtaking many of the native acts that strive to achieve in China, a fact that both breaks Yixing’s heart and yet gives him an odd sense of pride.  He secretly wishes he could reach out to other Chinese performers and extend a hand of truce, but at the same time he is Chinese and he has every right to be shining on the stage alongside Luhan, Kris, Tao, Chen, and Xiumin.  They’ve earned their spot, it wasn’t just given to them.  Especially, Chen and Xiumin.

            And they’re the ones he’s worried about.

            Yixing sneaks a glance at the two Korean members, a smile breaking out on his lips as he sees how excited and giddy they are to finally be back in their homeland.  The two of them would never admit it—Korean pride and whatnot—but they missed home.  There were plenty of nights that Chen would sneak into Xiumin and Tao’s room, cuddling up to the older Korean while the two of them talked with the Korean members.  Not that the Chinese members didn’t miss K, but there was an odd fullness in their chests now that they were back in a place they were comfortable, a serenity about being back in their native country that made it easier to go weeks without talking to K and not feeling somehow lost or distanced.  But Xiumin and Chen needed the reassurance of the K members to remind them that they hadn’t been forgotten, that they would still be welcomed home when they got off that plane and landed back in Seoul.

            Yixing understood a little too well how that felt.

            The giant smiles and laughter that rang from their throats certainly covered up every ounce of pressure and sadness that the Chinese members had witnessed and sympathized with for the past few months.  A weight lifted from Yixing’s heart as he watched Chen and Xiumin part ways to spread their happiness and excitement to the rest of M.  Xiumin chose to spread his influence to Tao and Kris, bounding up to them with eyes wide and cheeks puffed out.  Chen chose to come running up to Luhan and Yixing, sly smirk in place and gait in full appearance.

            Yixing gulped.

            “Are you guys excited?”  He tried to hide the overflowing enthusiasm in his voice, probably because he knew that the two of them would eventually miss China if they were here too long.  Well, Luhan might not. But Yixing certainly would—he kind of already did, but he’d never admit that.  “You know, a little birdie told me that Joonmyun-hyung is planning a little celebration for our return!  The way this birdie put it made it sound like we might be getting a little more than just a round of pizza and a couple hours to chat.”  The hint was emphasized with a wink and a sultry chuckle.  Yixing and Luhan both knew what he meant.

            Suho was letting the members celebrate with alcohol.

            “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Jongdae-ya,” Luhan lightly scolded, a smile and anticipating look on his face, “you know that Joonmyun will always put performance and practice before fun.”  The comment earned a dip in the lips from Jongdae, a frown that pulled at Yixing’s heartstrings like a chord of thick satin, dragging his stomach and intestines down into the backs of his knees.

            He just couldn’t resist that pout.  “Relax, one night of fun won’t put us back.” He reasoned, already thinking of things he could say to Joonmyun to try and convince him that drinking was a completely respectable and responsible decision—even if it was far from either of those.  “I’m sure it’ll be great fun, for all of us!” 

            Luhan scoffed and muttered irritated words in his thick Beijing dialect, but Yixing ignored it in favor of appraising the radiant smile that consumed Jongdae’s face. He took merit in the fact that he was the one who caused that.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            “I told you so,” Luhan spits in bitter, spiteful Chinese as Sehun shifts his arms lower on his waist.  Yixing fights back a malicious, sneering smile because he knows that Luhan kicks hard when he’s angry and that this is just karma making its normal rounds.  He stops himself from stating that aloud, though it doesn’t stop him from remarking to a plastered Sehun how much Luhan missed him while they were away in China.  The way Luhan’s normally wide eyes narrow to slits of hatred leaves Yixing quickly taking his leave, barely able to sway his hips out of the way of a rather dangerous looking punch.  Once out of the way of danger—but still close enough to hear Sehun excitedly ask a purely irate Luhan if he really missed him—he lets out of a stiff chuckle and leans against the unoccupied counter of the kitchen.

            He was able to convince Joonmyun to let them celebrate with a party, an idea that had apparently never been addressed or brought up by any member of the band.  Deep in the back of his mind, Yixing realizes as he says the words that Minseok and Jongdae planned this, knowing that the Chinese members would of course believe their word over their instincts.  After all, Jongdae talks to Joonmyun pretty much every minute of free time either of them has and he should know the plans of the group better than anyone else.  But no matter how much he reassures himself that Jongdae did not use him, it doesn’t erase the shocked look of dread on Joonmyun’s face when Yixing lets slip the idea.

            Kris is nearby when the words come out of his mouth in broken, scrambled Korean and the taller male has the decency to decipher them, though he looks reluctant to do so.  The look he shoots the Changsha Prince makes it rather clear that Minseok posed the same idea to him and Tao.  Of course Kris would be against it, he was the dad of the group.  He’d have to stay responsible and make sure no one tried to set the dorm on fire again…or one of the other members—you think he’s joking.   But yet he proposes it because this is Yixing we’re talking about, not Jongdae.  The Changsha Prince is rational and thoughtful; he wouldn’t be dumb enough to think a drinking party would be a good idea unless he was sure that nothing could go wrong.  And though he had every doubt in the world that everything would go wrong, he couldn’t deny that bright, lingering smile that Jongdae had presented him with every time he turned to see his face in the van ride to the dorm.  Against his better judgment and the whims of his elders, he turns down the flabbergasted expression Suho wears and even rejects the agonized status of Kris’s face in favor of that one memory.

            “It’s only one night, Joonmyun,” he persists with natural aegyo.  “I promise I’ll look out for everyone.  But the members deserve it, you guys deserve it.  Everyone’s been working so hard and it’s been so long since we’ve all been together.  I think a little time off is just what the doctor ordered.” 

            Kris’s eyes narrow again in suspicion as Joonmyun finally manages to take a breath and come out of shock.

            They share a worried, thoughtful look before the both of them sigh with resignation.

            Yixing doesn’t even realize that the rest of the band is behind him until he hears an unmistakable voice shriek with victorious happiness.  He turns just in time for arms to wrap around his neck and a strong weight to crash into his firm frame.  It takes his heart fluttering a couple of times in a fury of unidentified emotions for him to realize that it’s Jongdae that’s hugging him. 

            Time stops for a moment before he feels Chanyeol lifting him out of Jongdae’s arms, Sehun and Jongin refusing to let him out of their grasp as Baekhyun and Jongdae chant his name.  Even Kyungsoo smiles from across the way where Tao is clapping his hands with anticipation, Minseok beside them both with a proud smile on his face. 

            All Yixing feels is the way those arms felt tight around his neck, that weight firm against his chest.

            And he realizes Luhan is right. 

He has a problem.

           

            He snaps out of the memory as someone slides in beside him.  The heat from the alcohol radiates off of the body like fire, burning Yixing if he dares to touch him, but he must admit that it’s not nearly as bad as he makes it sound.  The warmth is comforting in the cold kitchen and the smell of soju on the shorter male’s breath is somehow just a confirmation that Yixing is the one who has this particular Korean member so unwound and happy.

            He turns just in time to see Jongdae smiling at him, white teeth flashing against a bright red face as he inches ever closer.  Yixing’s heart flutters, his body stiffens, his breathing halts.  His eyes are wide and he probably looks like a deer caught in headlights, but this is a drunk Jongdae and Luhan was right, he’s not ready for this, it’s a horrible idea and he secretly hates the fact he believed it was a good idea to convince Joonmyun it was even when it wasn’t.  And oh god, if Jongdae is drunk, then Baekhyun and Chanyeol are probably already ing on the couch and Tao has probably already touched someone’s and Minseok must be about ready to kick his for thinking they had a good idea for once.  He doesn’t even want to think about what kind of unspeakable things Jongin and Sehun have tried to do to Luhan or Kyungsoo or both.  Nor does he want to think about what state of mortification and horror Joonmyun will be in the moment he finds him after finally escaping the kitchen.

            And god why didn’t he listen to Luhan?!

            He isn’t allowed to think more, prohibited from the action as a hand tugs on his rolled up sleeve, a hot body—literally, burning up—flattens itself to his side.  He involuntarily gulps, hesitantly looking down to meet narrowed eyes and a sultry smirk.  The rational side of Yixing thinks logically about pushing the plastered brunette off of him before gets out of hand, but the part of him that has a problem is putting up a rather vicious fight for dominance.  Honestly, it’s all just giving Yixing a terrible, merciless headache.

            A warm hand touches his forehead, clumsily sliding through his bangs and moving them further to the side, out of his black eyes.  Yixing watches with a blank face, unable to really register emotion when he’s in this much confusion.

            “You’re not drinking.”  Jongdae slurs, voice alight with disappointment.  Yixing can’t help but sigh.

            “One of the stipulations: I have to play mom for the night.”  Jongdae snickers.

            “Oh?  Is it because Joon-umma,” Yixing can’t help but snort at the name, “is a bit preoccupied by appa?”  Despite his innocent face and the attempt at an innocent tone, all Yixing sees is disaster and malevolence in the making.  It takes him a couple of seconds to put the pieces together.

            “Oh for s sake,” he curses under his breath, sighing on the next breath.  Jongdae laughs again, pressing closer if that’s even possible.

            “Oh, definitely for s sake.”  His eyebrows wiggle and another sultry, ravenous snicker escapes his smirking lips.  “Minseok convinced them to have a bit of soju.  A little turned into a lot and from there, well…” he paused, eyebrow cocking in a mockingly amused manner, “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

            Not that Yixing didn’t know that Joonmyun and Kris both had something going between them that was well hidden from even the members, but he didn’t expect it to manifest.  The two of them went through great struggle to keep the truth under ropes.  It wasn’t something that the two of them would be careless enough to just show the public eye. 

            And now Yixing is very aware he’ll regret this in the morning.

            He is never more sure than when he feels a fist curl into his ed collar, slowly pulling him to look at Jongdae.  His skin flushes as he sees the way those devilish eyes narrow in a sensual manner, looking up and down the length of Yixing’s torso as he slowly pulls the Changsha Prince closer and closer.

            His hot breath against Yixing’s neck makes the Chinese male shudder, breath hitching as his hands shoot out to grip the counter on either side of the Korean singer.  His head bows, body tightening as he hears the heavy, labored breaths of the drunken youth brush past his ear with every unsteady inhale the male takes.

            A second passes, then another.  

            And finally… “You should probably make sure Luhan doesn’t strangle Sehun, Yixing-ah.  Wouldn’t want to upset Umma and Appa, would you?” 

            The hand is gone from his collar, sultry voice free from his ear.  All he sees is the final, mocking glance from the male as Jongdae casually struts away from the kitchen, fresh soju bottle trapped between wicked fingers.  Yixing watches in bewilderment, still trying to get his body under control as he forces down unwanted feelings in desperation.

            His fist slams hard enough against the kitchen counter to disturb the partying residents, easily bringing them into the kitchen.  When Kris and Joonmyun—both of whom are very ruffled and clearly out of breath—see the bruise forming on his hand, they can’t help but sober up.  But the pain is nothing in comparison to the pain he feels when he sees Jongdae smirking at him, left eye slyly closing in a wink as he takes a quick swig of soju.

            He disappears back into the living room just as Kris and Joonmyun call off the party, fretting over Yixing’s damaged hand.

            The appendage pulsates with pain in the morning, but not as badly as his chest does when he strolls out of his room to see Jongdae casually curled up next to Joonmyun on the couch, both sound asleep and content.

            That day he has to pay to have both of his fists wrapped up in bandages, one bruised, the other cut.

 

~*~*~*~*~

            Everything just gets worse and worse from there.  Yixing expects to return to China for their next promotions, ready to enjoy some time back in his homeland, but he’s sorely disappointed when the company announces that they’ll be promoting as 12 instead of 6 this time around.  Everyone is excited for the news, happy to not be separated again.  Though the schedule shows that they won’t be visiting China often, Yixing can’t complain when he knows that this is his dream, his future and he has no choice in the matter.  He made it through four years of separation and he’s damn sure he can survive a couple more months, but it’s not necessarily the physical separation that’s killing him anymore.  Now it’s all of the emotional mumbo-jumbo that has him banging his head against the wall and wishing for a lot of things he shouldn’t.

            But before he can hate anyone or anything, he first has to sadly adjust to how horrible a number twelve can be in one dorm. 

            Not that he dislikes K or has a thing against any of the members, but twelve people is a lot.  Hell, six people was a lot when they first debuted and now they’ve made it a dozen and Yixing is so confused and trapped he doesn’t know which way is up and which is down anymore.  The first time he realizes how stuffy and cramped the dorm is is when he has to fight to take a shower.  Literally, it’s kill or be killed and he watches Chanyeol casually lift both Kyungsoo and Baekhyun away from the door three times before he realizes it’s not worth it and he might as well wait.

            He waits a total of three hours before Luhan comes into his room and physically drags him to take a shower.  He watches as Jongdae comes running from his room to catch the shower, hand up like someone calling to keep the elevator open, and Yixing is ready and willing to wait another half an hour to shower, but before he can voice this he’s already been shoved into the room, Luhan’s leg out and keeping Jongdae from invading the space.

            Joonmyun later informs them that the residents will all have to share from now on.  The news is horrifying, but despite the horror, he thinks he can handle it. 

 

            The next area of burden is cooking.  Making food for six people was a hassle that Yixing only accomplished because he had free time and people willing to put time aside to actually try and enjoy his cooking.  Though he has willing taste testers in every member who is hungry at the moment, K prefers Kyungsoo’s cooking over his, a testimony to how close they’ve all gotten that Yixing can’t even offer the word food up without the maknaes immediately calling Kyungsoo to go make food in the kitchen.  At first it’s a nice reprieve, but that slowly falls to when he realizes that now Kyungsoo has that burden and if six was bad enough, then twelve must be a horror.

            In secrecy, Yixing starts helping around the kitchen, offering assistance anywhere he can.  It’s appreciated, though, Joonmyun tells him several times that Kyungsoo prefers to cook alone.  Yixing also prefers to shower alone, but that hasn’t stopped Sehun and Jongin from trying to invade his space while he showers, nor any of the other members. So, it comes to an understanding between the three of them that the help is necessary and warranted, but it only lasts so long before the members start to notice something different about the cooking.

            It’s one night when they’re all eating a great big hot pot that one of the K members notices a different taste from the normal one that they all enjoy.  Of course it’s Baekhyun, the chopsticks held out in thought as he looks at the food skeptically.  Kyungsoo shares a wide-eyed look with Yixing, one that Joonmyun returns because if Baekhyun is questioning the food that means that there will probably be an argument soon and no one wants to hear the priss go on for hours about how isn’t perfect around here.

            So Yixing volunteers to throw himself under the bus before anyone else has to face the wrath of an angry, sputtering Baekhyun.   “That’s because I helped make it.” 

            Silence and surprise settle around the group as they all stare at Yixing for his bravery and his straightforwardness.  He’s not known to speak up when issues arise, but really he’s done with a lot of this silent bickering.  Since the group as a whole has moved in together not enough has been said to quell the tension growing between people who aren’t used to all living together.  Sure, they made due back before debut, but things have changed.  The time apart was just enough that there is some relearning that has to take place before the members can all be at peace.  And Yixing is tired of no one else realizing that the only way for that to happen is for someone to say something.

            Baekhyun looks around the table, watching as members slowly settle back into eating the hot pot.  Joonmyun shoots him a look that is full of authority, but all it earns is a challenging look and a mouth opening to start a fight.  Yixing readies himself for the barrage, already welcoming the ball of fury growing in his stomach.

            But it fades away in an instant as Jongdae puts a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder, stopping the male from squawking as he smiles at Kyungsoo and Joonmyun.  “Well, I think the food is just great!  Thank you guys for the food!”  The words slip off with a hint of something close to annoyance, a slight lilt that has the rest of the table dumbly nodding their heads as they dig back in to the food.  Baekhyun reluctantly looks at his partner in crime in defeat, face falling as he returns to eating his dinner without further complaints.

            Kyungsoo puts a hand on Yixing’s shoulder squeezing a second before he smiles and lets go.  Yixing smiles back, but it’s only for the briefest of moments before he is back to finishing off the last few bites of his food.

            He catches Jongdae’s eyes and watches as he smiles.  Yixing nods his head in appreciation.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            Now, things are just getting ridiculous.

            It isn’t bad enough that Yixing has feelings he can’t even explain to himself, but of course Jongdae can’t give him a break about it.  Not that he knows or probably even realizes—or admits to realizing it—but the things he does just change so drastically that Yixing is starting to suspect he might be the next victim of a vicious, awful ploy.  He doesn’t know if he can handle that or the consequences that might come with it.  He’s thought of possible things he can do in such a case and all that come to mind would mean Jongdae probably dying, Yixing most likely going to jail, and Luhan sitting outside the bars with his hands raised in a shrug, face blank of all emotion saying, I told you so…

            What has him so frustrated, you ask?  Easy enough to answer. 

            Jongdae doesn’t really know what personal space means and he likes to pretend that personal bubbles don’t exist between the band when he’s in the zone.  This zone is a point in time where Jongdae is on stage, absorbed in the cries from the crowd and decides against the better judgment of everyone to shamelessly ship himself with whoever is a willing partner.  Normally his main victim is Joonmyun.  And normally Yixing is jealous unbothered by this, but lately Joonmyun has made it pretty clear after performances and the like that Jongdae is being a bit too clingy.  Although the words cut deep—don’t think for a second that Yixing didn’t see the hurt look on the brunette’s face as he watched Joonmyun walk back into the dorm, face stern and eyes looking forward in determination—Jongdae recovers fast and moves his attention to any member of the band he can get his hands on.

            He touches Baekhyun during open radio shows, physically reassures Kris when his pride is tested on Weekly Idol, and even starts to play more with Tao when the fans are looking.  All in all, Luhan and Yixing aren’t the only ones who notice the change in behavior, but it’s not the only thing they notice. If anything, this new behavior has made Jongdae even sassier.   And everyone is a victim of that.

            Minseok and Luhan are the first victims, though.  It happens when Jongdae happens to mention how close Luhan and Minseok have been lately.  Anyone in their right mind in the band knows that the closeness is because the two are barely a month apart in age and share the same hobbies.  They spend all their time together because they’re both cursed with young faces and immeasurable hierarchal power in a band where they are constantly tested by their feisty underlings for dominance.  They stand together on stage because they feel comfortable around each other.  Just like Yixing and Luhan tend to do in China, or how Tao chooses to stand near or around Kris or Luhan so he can have a viable translator when something doesn’t make sense to him during an interview or a show.

            Jongdae knows this, and yet he still says the few words that never cease to drive Minseok and Luhan over a proverbial wall of pure, unadulterated rage.

            But this time, he’s crossed a line.

            “So, when is the wedding, hyung?” The troll casually asks as he slips onto the back of the couch, right where Luhan’s arms were sprawled just seconds ago.  Minseok and Luhan both glare at him, eyes narrow and nostrils flared.

            “After your funeral,” the Korean elder spits, turning back to the Soccer game on the television.  Yixing is only in the living room because he has no choice when the manager is busy napping and he’s wide awake, but seeing the way Jongdae’s face falls at the mention of death makes him a little happier that he chose not to bother one of the other members in favor of spending some quiet time with the sportier boys. 

            Jongdae frowns. “That’s really unfair, though!  I’ve watched you guys grow from strangers to best friends to lovers!  I deserve to be the Best Man, if not the Maid of Honor!  By the way,” he stalls and offers a fake, questioning look, “who’s the bride, anyway?”  This time it’s Luhan who snarls.

            “It’ll be you if you don’t shut that trap of yours!” 

            “Sheesh, no need to get so defensive, hyung!  Though, I think making me bride would be cheating on Minseok, don’t you agree?”  It might look like Minseok and Luhan hit lightly on screen, but the sound of flesh hitting flesh is anything but light as Luhan whacks Jongdae upside the head.  The hit easily dislodges him from the couch, sending him reeling backwards with a look of shocked surprise.

            It takes every ounce of courage in Yixing to stand off his spot on the floor and go to the little troll to make sure he’s okay.  The moment he’s close enough to reach out and rub the knot where Luhan hit him, he freezes as Jongdae is suddenly clung to his shirt, body flat against his as if he will be able to protect him from the vicious wrath of two angry hyungs.  He desperately wants to argue against this, but he has no words to offer when his heart is beating out of control, his breath lost to broken lungs.

            But of course he’s just a scapegoat.  How could he possibly be anything else?

            “Yixing-ah,” he wants to wipe the innocent look off his face to see the real demon hiding down below, but he can’t because his limbs still won’t move, “you agree that Luhan and Minseok would be a cute couple, don’t you?  I mean, fate brought them together from two different countries, right?  They should just let it happen!”  The words are spouted loud enough for the two older males to hear, but neither of them acknowledge the existence of Jongdae.

            Instead, Luhan barely turns his head to glare at Yixing.  “Agree with him, and I swear to god you won’t be able to dance for the rest of your life.”  The threat is spat in venomous Chinese, growled in such a way that both Minseok and Jongdae are aware it probably isn’t pretty, but neither understands a word.   But Jongdae isn’t one to just let things go like that.

            “Yixing-ah,” he tugs on his sleeve, voice overflowing with the natural aegyo that Chen is so good at hiding on stage, “what did he say?  Are you invited to the wedding?” 

            Yixing sighs, rolls his eyes and tries to push Jongdae away unsuccessfully.  He sighs a second time, giving up when he knows that Jongdae won’t budge on the topic.  “I think you’re supposed to call me Yixing-hyung, Jongdae.”  Although there is virtually no emotion behind the words, Yixing sees the impact it has on Jongdae right away.  If he couldn’t see it in his eyes, he feels it in the loosening grip on his sweater.

            His eyes refuse to leave the pouty ones of the younger male even as he’s turning away, walking back towards his room where he can escape from the unwilling participants in another one of his evil schemes.  A piece of his heart breaks, reaching out and following Jongdae back to his room even as Yixing’s feet refuse to let him follow. 

            “Well,” Minseok says on a snort, arm casually sliding behind Luhan’s head on the couch as he makes himself comfortable, “that’s certainly one wedding that’s postponed indefinitely.”  The words are muttered as a joke, and both Luhan and Minseok see it as one, but it doesn’t stop the spread of hurt in Yixing’s chest.

            He doesn’t comment or try to correct them. 

            He just sits back down and goes back to watching the screen without a hint of emotion.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            Jongdae is drunk…again.

            This time, Yixing isn’t sure how any of it happened.  One second, Joonmyun and Kris were scolding the Beagle Line for some prank they had pulled that ended poorly for the Hyungs, the next second there are empty bottles of soju littering the floor and Yixing is once again the only one with a sober enough mind to handle keeping everyone else sane.  Although he accepts—reluctantly—his responsibilities as one of the eldest, it doesn’t mean he wants to be roped into a party he honestly sees no part in.  So instead, he spends his time cleaning up all the spills and empty bottles, sighing as Luhan drops a shot glass on the floor, barely keeping himself upright with a hand gripping the counter.  He laughs, not-so-lightly patting Yixing on the back as he stumbles off to find Minseok or someone.  Yixing sighs, shakes his head and picks up the shards of glass with a heated emotion growing low in his belly.

            He’s honestly never felt as alone as he does in that moment.  Watching the other members ignore and knock passed him, too inebriated to even realize he’s the one cleaning up their mess.  He’s never felt as abandoned as he does when Joonmyun looks at him, eyes glazed and lips open to say something just to close moments later when he spots Kris, following him like a lost puppy.  He’s never felt so out of place than he does when Jongin nearly trips over him, laughing it off and dismissing him, leaving him toppled on the floor in the wake of madness as Chanyeol and Baekhyun come racing through the area, hitting him just as hard.

            By the time Jongdae decides to give a , Yixing is almost to tears with frustration, anger and a lot of hurt.

            “Yixing-ah,” the Brunette calls from the doorway to the kitchen.  Yixing doesn’t even have the will to look up.  He’s on the floor, clothes ruffled and dirty, hair out of place and spirit mangled.  He probably looks pitiful, like he belongs there, close to the bottom.  And he thinks that he should scold Jongdae for once again forgetting to call him Hyung but who gives a anyway?  He’s Chinese, not Korean.  No one gives a whether or not he’s older or wiser or more deserving.  He’s just different and that’s all he’ll ever be.

            “Yixing-ah,” the voice is closer, the slur more noticeable.  He still refuses to look up.  Part of it is his pride at stake, the other part is the part that knows he hurt Jongdae and that Karma is a and likes to bite back at the worst possible moments.  And this, right here, would be the perfect time to rear its ugly head and remind him just how much wrong he’s done in the past couple of days.  While Yixing wouldn’t call himself a coward, he certainly isn’t in the time or place to willingly accept the sting he’s about to get for not being the perfect human being everyone clearly wants him to be.

            “Yixing-ah,” he shudders at the worried, gentle tone that slithers delicately into his ear.  Though the hands touching him are hot with alcohol, they’re light, hesitant.  He expects to be manhandled and mistreated, thrown aside to lie in a bed of nails, but instead, the man beside him runs comforting fingers up and down his arm as if to let him know, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.

            He finally works up the courage to look him in the face.

            He’s surprised by the amount of similar emotions floating in Jongdae’s eyes.  It’s like looking into a mirror and seeing himself reflected in a different face.  But it hurts more, digs deeper, because Yixing deserves to feel alone and forgotten.  Jongdae is the life of the party.  He should be out there dancing terribly and laughing it up with the rest of the band.  He deserved to be the member smiling, tongue sneakily peaking between two perfect lips as he teases the members with the pile of secrets he’s accumulated over the years. 

            But no.   Instead, his hand is resting on Yixing’s shoulder, eyes screaming for attention and praise more than Yixing’s ever seen them beg.  The fingers that were once are now digging in, slowly slipping off the flesh of his shoulders and seeping deep into the fabric of his shirt.  The smell of alcohol is strong on his breath, in the way he moves sluggishly and fluidly, but its somehow not disgusting when it comes from Jongdae’s mouth.   The way it implores him to seek out Yixing for warmth and support, for comfort, makes it the most heavenly scent in the world—even if it does sting his nose when Jongdae leans a bit too close.

            They lock eyes a couple seconds longer before Yixing sighs.  “Jongdae, why aren’t you drinking with everyone else?” 

            “I heard you cry out.”  The answer is both a little shocking and somewhat strange.  Yixing doesn’t remember—

            Oh.  “Don’t worry about that, I just fell.”

            Jongdae’s darkened eyes are quite inquisitive despite the circumstances.  “It didn’t sound like you just fell.” 

            “Well, that’s all it was, I promise.  You don’t need to worry about me, Jongdae.  Now come on,” he made a half-hearted effort to pick the smaller male up off the floor, trying to push him back towards the others who had all ignored him; “you should get back to the party before the others start to worry.” 

            “No one will notice, Yixing-ah.”  His eyes narrow, lips set in a firm line.  “No one noticed that you weren’t there.”  If Yixing weren’t good at masking emotions from these last couple years as an idol, it would’ve been very clear how deep those words cut.  But luckily, he is a master and it makes it much easier to play the words off dismissively.

            “That’s because I told Joonmyun that I was going to bed.  You, on the other hand, will surely be missed.  No one’s jokes are as good as yours, especially when all of you are drunk.” 

            Jongdae dismisses the compliment with nothing more than an uncaring wave of his hand.  “They can wait, this is important.”  Hearing those words immediately terrifies Yixing to the pit of his soul.  He doesn’t know what Jongdae needs to talk about, nor does he want to know.  In that moment, it’s like Karma has taken hold of Jongdae and possessed him, finding a suitable vessel to speak through.  He wonders why it couldn’t have chosen Luhan or Joonmyun, someone who he’s already made a pact to not take the advice of since this whole situation began.

            “What’s important?”  He is probably sweating and he hopes that Jongdae is drunk enough to think it’s because it’s hot.

            “Yixing-ah,” Jongdae leans closer, the fingers threaded in his sleeve tightening as he uses the Changsha Prince to balance his weight in the new position, “do you love anyone?” 

            “No.” Yixing says it so quickly he doesn’t even realize it came out in Chinese.  But Jongdae is well-versed enough now to know what it means and he knows he’s nervous, Yixing can tell by the way his eyes subtly narrow and his eyebrows lift in this questioning manner, like he can’t possibly believe the answer he was just given.  And then his eyebrows knit in suspicion, lips purse in thought, and eyes narrow in accusation.

            “You do.  Who is it?”  Is he the only one who hears…desperation?

            “No one, Jongdae, I don’t like anyone.”  He tries to make it sound real, but the residual tremors from his previous surprise make the words sound so weak and vulnerable and he’s sure that Jongdae knows he’s lying. 

            “You know, I love someone, too.”  Jongdae blurts it out, almost like he forgot that the conversation was supposed to be an interrogation of Yixing’s love life.  But a spark of hope is ignited that for some reason refuses to be put out.

            “Who?”  Yixing probably stumbles on the word, audibly stutters it, but he can’t help it. 

            Silence greets the two of them, growing and expanding as Jongdae leans closer and closer.  Yixing doesn’t think to stop him until there’s breath on his ear and neck and he’s begging to not be trapped, but he is, and Jongdae’s weight is on him again, using him as a pillar of strength as he bears his soul to someone unworthy of such a deep confession.  He hears the struggle of Jongdae’s attempts, hearing intention behind certain intakes of breath and the failed exhale that follows.  He feels the barest tightening of the fingers in his sleeve as Jongdae takes a deep inhale through his nose and steels himself for the next words.

            Yixing isn’t ready for whatever name he is about to—

            “Joonmyun-hyung.”

            —say.

            “I love Joonmyun-hyung.”

            Can’t life take a break from ing with them all?

Just this once?

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Somehow Jongdae getting drunk becomes a regular thing around the dorm.  Sometimes he drinks with the members, inspiring them after a particularly good recording to celebrate with a little bit of alcohol that quickly gets out of hand.  Other times he drinks in secret, sneaking into Yixing’s room when the manager isn’t around because he knows that the Changsha Prince doesn’t have the heart to push him away.  Sometimes Jongdae chooses to drink in pairs, asking Baekhyun or Chanyeol or Minseok or anyone but Yixing and Joonmyun to share some soju with him.  Normally, he keeps control and only drinks a little bit.  Even with the members he is wise enough to stay below the limit.

But never with Yixing. 

            There is something about his presence that makes Jongdae comfortable enough to lose himself in the sharp taste of soju, douse himself in a flame of self-pity and endless hours of sickness the next day.  Yixing hates seeing him in that state, watching him down shots and refusing to stop even after Yixing has taken his drink.  Listening to him moan and groan about his woes while he rests his hot skin on Yixing’s shoulder, cuddling up as close to the Changsha male as he can possibly get.  It’s frustrating, agonizing, but Yixing can’t refuse him.  Not because he lo—likes him, but because Jongdae needs someone.  He needs someone who is willing to watch him disintegrate into nothing more than a puddle of tears every time Joonmyun—no, Suho—refuses to do skinship or chooses to praise another member over him.

            But the time they’ve spent with Yixing as the designated confidant has led to so many changes that Yixing isn’t even ready to face.  Like Jongdae making sure that the fans know he exists.  Not to say that they didn’t see him before, but Yixing always made it a thing to slink to the back during performances.  He made it his spot to be at the back, far enough that every other member could have their time in the spotlight.  Jongdae fixes that habit in a hurry, pulling him by the wrist to stand at the very front any time he even tries to hide himself.  The skinship and recognition is sometimes too much, so much that Yixing spends extra time bowing to the fans just so that he doesn’t have to go back there and see the way Jongdae smiles at him victoriously every time.

            Ultimately, though, Yixing is selfish.

            He’s losing control in a game he should’ve never started.

            And at this point, the only thing holding him back is the very thing that’s stealing his sanity.  Every time he has to sit there and comfort Jongdae, watching him drink himself to piss, he reminds himself that all the times he’s practiced being at the back will pay off in the future.  It will pay off when Jongdae finally gets what he wants and he remembers easily how to just blend back into the shadows hidden behind the rest of the shining members.

            He doesn’t want Joonmyun to have Jongdae, though.   And it’s because he’s selfish that he starts to enact a plan he originally only joked about with Luhan.  He hates himself for it, desperately, but it’s nothing that a couple shots can’t handle.

            He decides it’s time for Umma and Appa to finally seal the deal.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            This time it’s Yixing who’s drunk.  Supremely drunk.  Beyond plastered.  He’s reached a level of low so far down below that he might as well be at the top.  And it’s because he feels like that that he has the courage to stumble his way back from the bar to the dorm without getting caught by flashing cameras or even noticed by the few girls who gingerly walk passed him, thinking he’s just another drunkard on the street.

            He laughs, smirking to himself as he falls against the door, shoulder hitting the piece of wood as his fingers search for the keys he knows he brought with him.  He finds them deep under all the receipts and schedules and other bull he keeps in his pockets, feeling them slip out of his clumsy fingers nearly five times before he finally gets a good enough grip to actually pull them out. 

            He loses that grip as the door is suddenly pulled open, the keys falling with a jingle on their way to the cold, hard ground.  He barely has a chance to look at them before they’re picked up by one hand just as another drags him into the dorm.  The door is slammed behind him, the noise reverberating around the house as someone brings their hand down to meet his face.

            The sting doesn’t sober his mind any, possibly intoxicating it more as he notices that the one who delivered the hit is Joonmyun, looking at him like the Umma he is.  Kris is standing behind him, disappointment in his eyes and a hell of a lot of embarrassment.  But the negative emotions do nothing to him anymore.  When wasn’t he a disappointment?  He’s been one since the moment he entered the company, the moment he was chosen to be the lead dancer in a group that was only made to increase the sales for the main six of the band.  Why should he let their judgments bother him when they’re true?  Facts are facts, that can’t be changed.

            And Yixing is really too drunk to care.

            “Where the have you been?”  Kris asks it in Chinese, probably thinking that Yixing is too gone to understand Korean.  The Changsha Prince rolls his eyes, nonetheless. 

            “Out.”  He answers, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it carelessly on the floor.  “Is that a problem?”

            “Yes, it’s a problem!  Do you understand what you could’ve done for our reputation if the fans saw you?  We would’ve been the laughing stock of SM!  We’d all be lucky if our contracts weren’t revoked!” Yixing snorted, glaring at Joonmyun.  The look seemed to stun everyone. 

            “What do you mean, our contracts?  Yours would be fine.  So would Jongin’s, and Kyungsoo’s, Baekhyun’s, Chanyeol’s, Sehun’s.  And lucky for all of us unlucky few who don’t fit the bill, no one’s going to notice a drunk Chinaman anyway, so what does it matter?”

            This time it was Kris who hit him.  That one hurt a bit more.  “We’re a family Yixing!  You can’t just go off and do stupid by yourself!  Your actions will look bad on all of us.  We are one, remember?” 

            Yixing snorted.  “Right. One.  I’ll keep that in mind the next time you let one member sneak off without giving a until he comes back completely hammered.  Some family we are.” 

The words took everyone by surprise, leaving both leaders sputtering as Yixing let it sink in.  He sighed, rolled his eyes, and pushed passed them.  Everyone one else cleared the way as he made his way to his room, stumbling all the way there.

            After somehow managing to not break the door the two or three times he fell on it, he settled onto his futon, grumbling in slurred Chinese as he got himself ready for sleep.  The alcohol was beginning to settle, making its presence known in the pit of his stomach and forehead.  He groaned, throwing his sweaty, achy body back on the comfortable space as he tried to let darkness consume him.

            Of course, that moment of peace had to be broken by a knock on the door. 

            He sighed, hoisting himself off the mattress and tripping his way over to the door.  He slowly opened it just a crack, though it didn’t remain so for long.  He had barely turned the handle before the door was violently open by Jongdae.  And from the looks of it, he was pissed.

            “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you.”  Yixing apologized though the words had no backing.  He had no intentions of telling anyone where he had gone.  He had planned this night with the hopes that no one would find him.  It was his way of saving himself and the band.  Because no one would recognize him on the street.  In Korea, he was just another foreigner from China, drunk and lost on his feet.  But not the others.  The others certainly would’ve been caught the instant they stepped foot out of the dorm.

            “I gave a !” The brunette snarled, taking his phone from his pocket and throwing it at the futon Yixing was seconds from sleeping on before.  It hit with a nasty thud, staying there as Jongdae his heel and left, making sure to slam the door in his wake.

            Yixing was left in darkness, a black pool almost as deep as the black hole he had just dug for himself.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            “Fine, I’ll admit it.  I love him.”

            “Love who?”

            “You know who!”

            “Say the name or I swear to god, I’ll—”

            “For ’s sakes, I love Kim Jongdae!” 

            Yixing panted for a couple of seconds, staring at a smirking Luhan as he batted pretty eyelashes at him before their next performance.

            “See, was that so hard?”

            “ you.”  Yixing left the bathroom, listening to the sound of Luhan’s obnoxious laughter reverberating in the hallway. 

            It had been weeks since the incident and a lot of work had to be done to fix the chemistry in the group.  Starting with Joonmyun and Kris, each member had been forced to vent some stress they had with the group.  In the end, it turned into a screaming match and Luhan and Minseok, along with a very peeved Tao, had broken up several fights, all of which could’ve ended with someone missing hair or a good chunk of skin.  Luckily, such a disaster had been diverted and the world continued to spin for EXO. 

            But a lot had changed for the entire group.  Like Yixing had said in the beginning, now that everything was out there and in plain sight, the problems were easy to fix.  Just the act of getting the harsh words off their chests had been the step necessary to bringing the group back together as a whole.  Now, they had some place to go with the issues, they weren’t just sweeping them under a rug.  Though, none of these changes helped Yixing in any way.  

            Since that night, Jongdae had made it his job to ignore him.  Not that he didn’t deserve it—oh, did he deserve it—but that didn’t keep him from feeling secluded and lost in a world he had already accepted would never accept him.  And he hated himself more for feeling self-pity and hatred when he should be on his knees begging for forgiveness.  Mainly because Jongdae had sent him a total of one-hundred-twenty-two messages in a single hour, followed by a risky dash to try and find him while in disguise and under the suspicion of all the fans who were camped in and around their dorm.  Really, nothing felt worse than knowing he had betrayed the trust of the one person who he knew trusted him.

            And so he did his best to make Jongdae’s job easier.  That started with slinking back to the shadows and farther away from the main lights of the stage.  But it didn’t include losing the way he would stare at Jongdae in appreciation every time he would hit the high notes and blow the other singers away.  Nothing could stop him from basking in the glow that surrounded Jongdae every time he did what he was best at.  In those moments, when the camera came close and focused only on their main singer, Yixing felt the return of the happiness he had happily thrown away in favor of the happiness of his bandmate.

            It just happened to be in one of these moments that Yixing was finally caught and scolded for his obvious and risky behavior.

            “You should just tell him.”  Tao, of all people, said.  His eyes weren’t the happy, bright panda eyes they all picked on him for.  These were the narrow, fierce wushu eyes he had worn since the Mama era.  They pierced through him, seeing straight into his soul and knowing his every move before he did.  But as cold and calculating as the eyes were, they were also caring and wise.  At least, they were wise enough to know that Yixing was just digging a grave he was soon going to willingly slip into. 

            “It would only make things more complicated.”  Tao snorted at his answer.

            “Practice what you preach, Yixing.”  The challenge in his voice, the bitter way he spat it, was enough to sting at his pride.  Worse still was the way Tao turned, leaving without so much as another word.  He didn’t even give Yixing a chance to defend his case.

            And now he had a much better understanding of how Jongdae must’ve felt, hearing him tell the entire band how little they cared about him when he had done everything in his power to bring Yixing into the spotlight, into the place where everyone else was living in luxury.  And he had just thrown it all back in his face.

            Tao was right.

            He had to tell him.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

            It was crowded and hot, the flashes of cameras blinding them all as they tried to scurry through the small space the fans allowed them with their obnoxious pushing and shoving.  The last time they had gone to an airport, Jongdae was forgotten behind the bouncer, having to force his way into the circle to be secure from the clawing heathens they dared to call fans.  Now, Yixing has a sharp eye on him, watching his every move like a hawk as they quickly—or their attempt at quickly—move towards the entrance, far from the groping, prying hands of fans who have nothing better to do than harass idols.

            He hears the way one girl gasps, hand going between a space to try and grab at someone.  Yixing would normally ignore the grab, but this time he is unable to ignore the plunge when he sees where her hand is directed.  He quickly plays interference, suavely placing himself in her range, hip skillfully bumping her hand out of the way as he wraps an arm possessively around the Brunette’s waist.  He looks at her out of the side of his glasses, a warning and a promise. 

            He forgets his arm is around Jongdae because it feels…right.  So right, that he can’t dare remove it when Jongdae finally wraps his fingers around it, trying to pry him off without tipping it off to the fans.

            “I’m still mad at you.”  Jongdae hisses through a smile just as Yixing wraps his other arm around him.  Not to give him credit or anything, but Jongdae is pretty strong when he wants to be and Yixing is not missing this very crucial moment.

            “I’m mad, too.”  Yixing blurts into his ear, watching the way Jongdae shivers in his grasp.  He looks up through his shades, seeing how close yet far they were from escaping the rabid group of girls trying to pick and pry each of them into a web of terrible, horrible nightmares.  And he knows that it will take forever, but hell, he has no time at all before Jongdae will finally push him away.

            “Oh yeah?  And what are you mad about, huh?” The sass comes out in that same hiss.

            “For,” Yixing corrects, tightening his arms a little bit.

            “What?”  This time, Jongdae looks back at him, meeting eyes as Yixing keeps on his emotionless, careless face.  They’re in front of the fans.  This is natural skinship.  Not a confession or anything…of course not.

            “I’m not mad about anything, but I am mad for something.”  He has to hold back the smirk as Jongdae continues facing forward.

            “Whatever, I don’t care, just get your hands off me.”

            “But Jongdae-ya,” he pauses, voice low and sincere, if not a little teasing.  “I’m mad for you.”  Jongdae snorts.

            “Why would you have to be mad for me?  I can be mad for myself!”  Yixing rolls his eyes, never happier for shades, because only Kim Jongdae would be dumb enough to not figure out the idiom as a native Korean speaker.

            “Because I love you.” 

            He lets his arms fall to his sides as Jongdae’s eyes widen a fraction of an inch before going back to normal.  He adjusts his purple backpack and looks at a couple of the fans, smiling at them a moment before he continues the trek back towards salvation.  A weight is lifted from his chest and he feels it slowly drifting away from them all as he heaves a sigh of relief.

            It’s his turn to hide surprise as Jongdae reaches out and subtly threads his fingers into the cotton of Yixing’s sweater.  This time they’re not heated by alcohol or there to grab his attention in a scheme to annoy Minseok or Luhan.  This time they’re a tad bit cold, a little stiff and rigid, but comfortable and just…there.  The feeling of having them there without intention or purpose is by itself one of the greatest pleasures Yixing has ever felt.

            What’s even better is when Jongdae uses the grip to pull him that subtle inch closer, keeping his smile pointed ahead as he pretends like they’re casually sharing a morning conversation.

            “It took you long enough.”  The Changsha Prince snorts out of habit.

            “So you were waiting all along, huh?”

           “No,” he turns a quick smile to Yixing before his face is once again set in the mask he’s perfected for crowds.  They’re mere feet from being safe from raging fangirls, feet from guards and back into the world where people will have cameras aimed at their backs.  They don’t have much time left for Jongdae to spit out the words, but Yixing is patient enough to wait those last couple steps.  “Only since I fell head over heels for you.”

            Yixing can’t stop the laugh.  He’s glad they make it through the doors before anyone can guess the reason for his sudden and unexpected outburst. 

            He can’t stop smiling now.  And the rest of the members smile, too, because everyone knows what happened.

           

            When the next concert comes around, Yixing isn’t afraid to be the one to approach Jongdae in the spotlight.  He’s not afraid to pull him away from the crowd and show him what it’s like to be on the outskirts of fame. 

            He drags him along and allows himself to be dragged as the two of them fool around, running about the stage in Beijing and letting their happiness soar. 

            Every concert after that, it’s undeniable how close they are. 

            Almost as undeniable as the few words Yixing whispers every time they’re close on stage.

            I love you.