“Okay, so, all preparations for prom are finished, and everything is ready to go, correct?” Junmyeon calls as he paces around the ASB office, going through his itinerary checklist on his clipboard.

“Yup,” Minseok quips, munching on a potato chip as Kyungsoo types away on his lap top, making note of everything that is being said during the meeting.

“We even have a thousand left over in our funds,” Yixing adds, going through the ASB checkbook while taking a sip of his large slurpee.

“Well, then, why don’t you guys be good sports and put the money to good use by booking the dance club a room for our show next month?” Jongin suggests from his perch next to Kyungsoo’s laptop, twirling a finger through Kyungsoo’s hair.

Junmyeon does a double take.

“Jongin? When did you even?” Junmyeon furrows his brows, perplexed. “You’re not ASB. You shouldn’t be in here.”

Jongin shrugs.

“Speaking of which, where’s Zitao?” Junmyeon asks the room at large, glancing around and noticing that the historian is missing.

Yixing snorts, “he still doesn’t know.”

“Know?” Junmyeon asks in confusion. “Know what?”

“Seriously?” Yixing raises a brow. “Zitao? Lunch time? Basketball practice? We all know Zitao has better attendance than Minho. And he’s co-captain.”

Junmyeon is about to retort when a buzzing noise interrupts him, mid-speech.

“I think it’s yours,” Jongin says, tossing the vibrating phone to the ASB president. Junmyeon fumbles with the object before grasping the phone firmly in his hands, pressing the answer button. He points angrily at the door and Jongin, smiling impishly, bounces off the desk, giving Kyungsoo a small peck on the forehead before heading out.

Junmyeon stares after Jongin in disbelief before returning his attention back to his phone.

“Sittin’ on the toilet!” Jongdae’s smiling face pops up onto the screen, swaying back and forth across the little rectangular space. “Sittin’ on the toilet!”

“Jongdae?” Junmyeon frowns, squinting into his phone. “Are you calling from the bathroom?”

“Yup!” Jongdae chirps, still smiling hugely into the phone camera. “I have something important to tell you!”

Junmyeon closes his eyes and counts to ten.

“It was so important that you couldn’t wait to get out of the bathroom?”

“Yup!” Jongdae exclaims again, wiggling around the screen.

“Okay,” Junmyeon exhales through his nose. “What is this important business?”

“Wanna go get ice cream with me after school?”

Junmyeon blinks. “What?”

“You know,” Jongdae grins, his teeth sparkling under the halogen lights of the bathroom. “You, me, the new ice cream parlor that opened a few blocks away?”

“You called me from the bathroom to ask me to go get ice cream with you?”

“Yeah!” Jongdae says, “before I forget! It was really important at the time!”

Junmyeon continues to blink at Jongdae’s grinning face.

“Come on,” Jongdae sings, “let’s go!”

Junmyeon lets out a heavy sigh before giving him a weak grin.

“I suppose. Ice cream sounds nice.”

“Yay!” Jongdae crows, waving his phone around in the air, and all Junmyeon can see is a whir of color. “See you in a bit!”

The phone beeps, indicating that Jongdae had hung up.

“Ooooh, president has a date,” Yixing smirks, taking a large slurp of his drink.

Junmyeon drops down into the seat next to Minseok.

“Why?” he moans, setting his forehead down onto the table and starting up a rhythmic banging against the surface.

Right then, Zitao walks in, hauling with him stacks upon stacks of brown cardboard boxes.

“What’s that?” Minseok enquires, the remainder of his potato chips from his fingers.

“Chocolate,” Zitao answers haughtily, dropping the boxes onto the carpeted office floor. “We’re helping the basketball team raise money for the summer basketball camp.”

“You mean we’re helping Kris raise money for the summer basketball camp,” Yixing corrects, raising a brow as Zitao opens up the brown boxes.

“Same thing,” Zitao sniffs, removing individually packed boxes of assorted chocolates. “Kris is basketball.”

Yixing coughs, wiping the dribble of slushee dripping out of his nose with the back of his sweater sleeve.

“Who says we’re going to help?” Kyungsoo deadpans, packing away his lap top into his backpack.

With a frown, Zitao marches over to Kyungsoo, shoving two boxes of chocolates into his bag.

“Say something,” he challenges, “I dare you.”

“And have you karate chop me?” Kyungsoo raises a brow, zipping up so Zitao can’t stuff anymore into his backpack. “No thanks. I’ll pass.”

“It’s not karate,” Zitao huffs. “It’s wushu. There’s a difference.”

“Same thing,” Kyungsoo waves, tossing his backpack over his shoulder and heading out.

Junmyeon starts banging his forehead even harder. Minseok slips his notebook under his head to cushion the fall.

“The purpose of ASB is to represent and support the entire student body,” Zitao rehearses proudly, passing out more boxes of chocolate to the rest of the team. “And the basketball team is a very large part of our campus’ pride and joy.”

Yixing snorts as Junmyeon whines into Minseok’s spiral bound notebook.

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Jongdae sings, skipping up to Junmyeon, whose carrying so many boxes of assorted chocolates, he can’t exactly see where he’s going. Junmyeon attempts walking out the door, but misses, instead hitting the wall.

“What?” Junmyeon strains, trying to make it through the doorway when Jongdae relieves him of half of his pile, guiding Junmyeon out towards the school exit.

“Ice cream!” Jongdae repeats, skipping along towards the parking lot.

Junmyeon trails after him as Jongdae pops open the trunk of his Mercedes, dropping his and Junmyeon’s piles of boxes before walking Junmyeon to the passenger side.

“Thanks,” Junmyeon smiles as Jongdae helps him in, shutting the door when Junmyeon is safely seated. Jongdae bounces over to his side.

“Let’s go!” Jongdae sings, pulling out of the student parking lot.

“So,” Jongdae continues, smiling at Junmyeon as he stops at a red light. “About prom. What do you want to wear?”

“Eyes on the road,” Junmyeon strains, grasping the sides of his chair as he smiles back nervously. “Please?”

“I’m a safe driver, don’t worry,” Jongdae waves, nevertheless returning his gaze to the road. “Anyways, prom.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon pouts, thinking about it for a second. “I don’t know. You’re the fashion expert. You choose.”

“You’re giving me free reign of our outfits?” Jongdae bounces excitedly in his seat as he pulls into the parking lot of a pink ice cream parlor with a giant ice cream statue on the roof.

“Yeah, go crazy,” Junmyeon smiles, unbuckling his seat belt and sliding out.

“Hey, you go find some seats,“ Jongdae suggests as they enter the parlor. “I’ll get in line for the sundae. There’s a really tasty looking one I want to try.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon replies, heading towards the back to an empty booth. He brushes off a few rainbow sprinkles that the previous patrons had left behind and waits for Jongdae to return with their dessert.

“Tadah!” Jongdae says, placing down a tray carrying a large silver bowl filled with chocolate ice cream and topped with mounds of mini marshmallows and chopped nuts. “Rocky road!”

“Looks good,” Junmyeon smiles as Jongdae slides in next to him, waving a silver spoon into the air.

“Say ahh,” Jongdae sings as he scoops a large mouthful and pushes it towards Junmyeon’s mouth. A light pink blush spreads across his cheeks as he opens his mouth, accepting the proffered ice cream.

“Good?” Jongdae smiles, and Junmyeon nods.

“Yeah, I like it.”

Jongdae smiles even wider. He leans forward, Junmyeon backing up a little, nervously.

“You have something there,” Jongdae points vaguely in the direction of Junmyeon’s bottom lip. Junmyeon tries to wip off whatever it is Jongdae is pointing at when Jongdae himself closes in, his warm mouth pressing against Junmyeon’s surprised, cold lips.

Junmyeon forgets to breathe.

His mind blanks.

Junmyeon panics.

In the blink of an eye, suddenly Junmyeon is standing outside the table, and Jongdae snaps his head over his shoulder.

Junmyeon blinks his eyes rapidly for a few seconds before turning tail and running out of the parlor.

“What?” Jongdae gapes after him. After regaining his motor functions ten minutes later, feeling slightly miffed that he’d been stood up, Jongdae calls Luhan.

“I’m busy,” is how Luhan greets him.

“I’m in dire need of your assistance,” Jongdae says impatiently.

“Luhan is busy with Yixing at the moment. Please leave  a message after the tone, or to leave a numeric page, press two. Beep.”

Luhan hangs up.

Jongdae stares at his phone with wide eyes.

Jongdae contemplates dropping his phone into the ice cream. But that would only affect him. So he thinks better of it.

Now, more than just slightly miffed, Jongdae sighs, heading back to his car.

He continues to plan out all the colorful, imaginative ways he can torture Luhan in his mind as he drives home when he passes Sehun and Minseok walking along the sidewalk. Screeching his car to a halt, Jongdae jumps out of his car, grabbing a flailing Sehun and tossing him into the car before quickly driving off, leaving behind a bemused Minseok.

“What the heck!” Sehun shrieks, trying to grab the steering wheel.

“I need your help!” Jongdae yells back, trying to straighten out the wheel.

“Take me back!” Sehun grabs Jongdae’s hair this time.

“Junmyeon keeps running away from me!” Jongdae ignores Sehun. “Everything I do keeps scaring him off!”

Sehun huffs, sitting back down properly in his seat and crossing his arms.

“Well, you need to talk to him about this, not me,” Sehun grimaces, looking straight forward. “Sit him down. Draw boundaries. Ask him what he’s comfortable with and what you guys need to work on.”

“Huh,” Jongdae responds, thinking this through. “Sehun, I think you may be a genius!”

“I already know that” Sehun frowns, turning back to Jongdae. “Now take me back!”

“So I was thinking about renting a limo for prom,” Jongdae announces to the lunch table the next day.

“I’m down for that,” Jongin nods his head, taking a sip from Jongdae’s orange soda.

“Where’s Sehun?” Jongdae asks, glancing around the table and not finding their youngest friend before snatching back his drink.

“Probably at the library waiting for Minseok. Yixing said they’d join us after meeting ends.”

“By the way,” Jongdae stares pointedly at Chanyeol across the table. “You’re not invited to our limo.”

“YOLO,” Chanyeol smirks, chucking a cheese puff at Jongdae’s head.

“You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself,” he adds sagely, nodding his head as Jongdae brushes specks of cheese crumbs out of his hair.

“Oh my god, are you quoting bible verses at me?”

“Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” Chanyeol aims another cheese puff towards Jongdae’s forehead.

“You are so irritating! Go away!” Jongdae frowns, swatting the offensive snack item away from his face.

Chanyeol shrugs, before reaiming his projectiles toward Baekhyun, who expertly catches the cheese puffs with his mouth.

“You guys are so infantile,” Jongdae sniffs, collecting his backpack and standing up.

“Where you going?” Luhan asks, grabbing a handful of cheese puffs from Chanyeol’s bag.

“I need to talk to Junmyeon, alone.”

“For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from se…”

“Okay, shut up! Shut up!” Jongdae blocks his ears with his fists, running away from the table as Chanyeol cackles with laughter.

“Okay, meeting adjourned,” Junmyeon calls as everyone begins to pack up their belongings.

Zitao rips out of the room first, grumbling about missing the first half hour of practice and something about long legs and torsos.

“So anyways,” Yixing smirks as he watches Zitao disappear. “Lunch with the guys?”

“Yup,” kyungsoo agrees, stuffing his backpack with his belongings as Minseok shakes his head.

“Promised I’d help Sehun with Calc.”

“Seriously man,” Yixing raises a brow. “If you haven’t caught on to what that kid is really doing, you don’t have the right to be tutoring anyone.”

Minseok smiles vaguely as Jongdae comes running through the door, heaving for breath.

“You. All of you. Out. Now.” Jongdae points to the door, indicating that everyone needs to be gone that very instant.

Yixing shrugs as Junmyeon splutters, heat creeping up his face as he remembers the kiss from the day before.

“Wait,” Junmyeon chokes, “don’t leave.”

Too late. Everyone bustles out the door.

“We,” Jongdae breathes heavily, leaning his hands onto the edge of the desk. “Need. To. Talk.”

Junmyeon blinks, dropping back down onto his chair.

Jongdae closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. When his breathing evens out, he walks slowly next to Junmyeon, dropping down in the chair next to him.

“We need to talk,” Jongdae repeats.

“Do you want to buy some chocolate?” Junmyeon squeaks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“What?” Jongdae frowns in confusion.

“Chocolate,” Junmyeon says again, babbling rapidly. “Zitao promised the basketball captain he’d sell chocolate for his summer camp. That’s what all those boxes were yesterday. You want to buy some from me so I can get some out of the way?”

Jongdae holds up a finger.

Junmyeon shushes.

“You are not getting me sidetracked. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Junmyeon whispers, eyes turning as wide as saucers.

“About you,” Jongdae’s frown becomes more pronounced. “About how you always get nervous around me. About how you’re always running away from me at the slightest things I do.”

“Nervous,” Junmyeon says, voice rising higher. “Who’s nervous? I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous?”

Jongdae leans in closer, and Junmyeon jolts back into his chair.

Jongdae sighs, “see?”

Junmyeon shakes his head in denial.

Jongdae gives him a small smile, slowly, very slowly lacing his fingers into Junmyeon’s.

“We really need to work something out here,” Jongdae says, marveling at the texture of Junmyeon’s soft skin. “I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re so afraid of. I promised, remember? Slow?”

Junmyeon continues to shake his head.

Jongdae frowns again.

Junmyeon coughs, trying to find his voice.

“It’s not you I’m afraid of,” he manages in a whisper. “It’s me,” he continues, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to act. I don’t know when I’ll mess up or do something stupid. I just don’t know, okay? And that makes me nervous, and I’m not used to it.”

It’s Jongdae’s turn to shake his head.

“I just can’t with you,” Jongdae smiles, patting Junmyeon’s cheek. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Slow,” Jongdae reiterates, and Junmyeon nods with a small smile.

“So anyways,” Jongdae continues, a bigger grin stretching across his face. “I was thinking about doing a go-cart thing this Saturday. You up for it?”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon breathes, feeling a little bit more at ease. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Jongdae’s returning smile is radiant.

“Where’s Sehun?” Baekhyun asks as Jongin brings out his dad’s smuggled alcohol bottle from his jacket.

“He went to the mall with Minseok,” Luhan replies as Jongin takes a swig first, coughing as he hands the bottle to Jongdae. Jongdae leans away from the front seat, ducking his head as he takes a swig, and passes the bottle over to Yixing, who takes a quick chug and passes it on to Chanyeol.

“Who invited you?” Jongdae raises a brow at him as Chanyeol shrugs, shoving the bottle back into his face. Jongdae splutters, pushing the alcohol back to Baekhyun, who takes a discreet swig. They continue to take turns for the next half hour, waiting for Kyungsoo to arrive with Junmyeon.

“I think I see Kyungsoo’s car," Jongin squints out into the parking lot, hurtling out of Jongdae’s Mercedes and prancing over to Kyungsoo, who screeches to a halt.

“Oh my god, Jongin are you crazy?!” Kyungsoo shouts, as Jongin meekly steps back, allowing Kyungsoo to park his car.

“God, what if I ran you down?”

Jongin smiles like an idiot, bouncing onto Kyungsoo’s shoulders as soon as he steps out of the car.

“Have you been drinking?” Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose, leaning away from Jongin’s face.

“Maybe,” he sings, grabbing Kyungsoo’s cheeks and squishing them, cooing, “you’re so cute.”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol have already run off, not wanting to wait before causing mayhem and destruction on the racetracks.

“Hey,” Jongdae swings an arm around a startled Junmyeon, leaning his head against his shoulder.

“Hey,” Junmyeon smiles weakly, tilting his head away from Jongdae’s. “You’re drunk.”

“Not really,” Jongdae drawls, guiding him to the entrance to pay their fees.

Junmyeon watches in mild anxiety as Chanyeol and Baekhyun drift around the tracks, almost crashing into each other several times, cackling like hyenas.

Yixing and Luhan give them a good head start, only joining the tracks once they’re sure the other two won’t be hurtling towards them in a head on collision of doom.

Junmyeon’s heart stops as Baekhyun crashes head on into the side of Chanyeol’s go-cart, Chanyeol jerking extra hard and nearly popping out of the vehicle.

“I change my mind,” Junmyeon says weakly, “I think I’ll just watch. You can go play.”

“No, no,” Jongdae says slowly, guiding Junmyeon over to a cluster of shaded benches. “I’ll watch with you.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon shudders as Jongdae wraps an arm around his waist, head still leaning on his shoulder.

Junmyeon watches Kyungsoo and Jongin join the fray, those two and Yixing and Luhan keeping a far distance away from the slightly crazed Baekhyun and Chanyeol, still swerving around like maniacs.

“It’s a wonder they even have their licenses,” Junmyeon comments as Jongdae leans into the crook of Junmyeon’s neck, pressing his lips into the soft, tender spot.

Junmyeon freezes.

“What are you doing?” he whispers shakily as Jongdae’s fingers creep slowly under the edges of his shirt.

“You feel nice,” Jongdae hums, lips pressing a little bit harder against Junmyeon’s neck.

Junmyeon shivers, trying ot control his breathing.

Jongdae’s hand reaches all the way in, fingers skimming across a patch of skin on Junmyeon’s waist.

His mind goes blank.

Junmyeon panics.

He does the first thing his mind can think of.

Junmyeon runs.

He runs, and he runs.

Junmyeon keeps on running until his lungs constrict from the lack of oxygen flow.

Even then he keeps on running until Junmyeon no longer knows where he is.

Tears beginning to slide down his cheeks, Junmyeon busts out his phone, dialing the first number at the top of his recent dialed list.

“Okay, that’s perfect,” Zitao calls as Kris leans against a tree, stunner shades on and tilting his chin slightly up. “Stay right there,” Zitao zooms in, focusing his camera, when his phone starts ringing in his pocket.

“Who dares disturb the artistic process of Huang Zitao?!” he barks into the phone, ready to hang up if it sounds even the least bit unimportant.

“Hello?” a voice sniffles, and some of Zitao’s anger ebbs.

“Junmyeon? Are you crying?” Zitao frowns, as Kris pushes away from the tree, walking closer.

“I don’t know where I am,” Junmyeon sobs through the receiver. “I don’t know what to do. I’m lost, I’m scared, and I just don’t know anything anymore.”

Zitao exhales loudly through his nose.

Kris gently removes the phone from Zitao’s grip.

“Hey, this is Kris. Where are you?”

Junmyeon sniffles.

“I think I’m at the intersection of Woodsbury and Junipero,” he sobs.

“Okay, we’ll come pick you up in a little bit.”

“No we are not!” Zitao huffs, frowning even harder. Kris gives him an easy smile, using his free hand to rub away the lines forming on Zitao’s forehead.

“Yes, we are,” Kris states firmly, and Zitao huffs, deflating. “We’re on our way.”

“Okay,” Junymeon shudders, still sounding like he’s crying.

Kris hangs up, handing the phone back to Zitao.

He gently smacks Kris’ chest, before reluctantly smiling.

“You think yourself lucky that I find you too perfect to destroy,” Zitao says conversationally as they head for Kris’ car.

“I find myself feeling very lucky,” Kris laughs, climbing in and heading out in search of the president.

The next morning, Jongdae wakes up with a head full of pain and a heart full of regret.

He calls and calls and calls, blowing up Junmyeon’s phone with over four hundred phone calls and a thousand unopened text messages.

But Junmyeon ignores every single one, not replying once to any of his calls or messages.

At school, on Monday morning, Jongdae waits for Junmyeon outside their first period class, but he doesn’t show. Putout, Jongdae walks into class ten minutes late, not even hearing the scolding their math teacher gives as he stares blankly out the window.

During lunch, Jongdae wails over Junmyeon ignoring him all Sunday and not showing up to school.

“I miss him,” he whines into the table, head cradled inside his arms, as Chanyeol raises a brow at Jongdae’s defeated form.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” Chanyeol states, popping a fry into Baekhyun’s open mouth. “Ask for forgiveness.”

“Ugh!” Jongdae cries into his arms, “Baekhyun! Control your boy toy, or else!”

“Well, he has a point,” Baekhyun shrugs, chewing slowly on the french fry.

Jongdae’s head shoots up, glaring at his friend.

“You think I haven’t tried?! I’ve called him and texted him like a million times! He won’t answer me!”

“Why don’t you try breaking down his door?” Jongin suggests, nicking a fry from Chanyeol’s pile. “Make him sit down and listen to you?”

Sehun tsks, smacking the back of Jongin’s head.

“You just need to stop talking,” Sehun rolls his eyes. “Nothing smart ever comes out of that black hole you call a mouth.”

Jongin raises a brow, swiftly snatching the grilled cheese sandwich from Sehun’s hand taking nearly two thirds of the sandwich in one bite.

Sehun shrieks at him to spit it out, picking up his chemistry textbook and whacking the back of Jongin’s head repeatedly.

“Oh my god, you guys are so loud,” Luhan snaps, picking up his lunch tray and getting up to go bug Yixing at his ASB meeting instead. Before he leaves, he turns to Jongdae. “Just give him time. He’ll come around.”

Jongdae nods, dropping his head back down into his arms as Sehun continues to abuse Jongin, screeching for him to buy him a new lunch.

But by Friday lunch time, Junmyeon has still not shown up for school. Jongdae is getting antsy, and worried, and feeling even more guilty than before.

Jongdae has had enough of waiting.

He barges into the ASB office, interrupting Minseok mid-sentence as he goes over the Prom itinerary one last time in place of the missing president.

“You. Outside. Now,” Jongdae huffs, hunched over the table once again as four sets of disapproving eyes glance over at him. He then straightens up, adding meekly, “please?”

With a heavy sigh, Minseok agrees, excusing himself and following Jongdae out the door. Jongdae leads them to an empty classroom, turning beseeching eyes upon Minseok.

“Please,” Jongdae implores. “I don’t know what to do. I miss him. I need him. I’m useless without him.”

Minseok remains silent for a few moments, crossing his arms and studying Jongdae’s face. He sighs again before opening his mouth.

“Well,” Minseok begins. “I’m only helping you out because Junmyeon is pretty miserable right now, too.”

Jongdae’s eyes go round, listening with rapt attention.

Minseok opens his mouth again to continue when Sehun barges in through the door.

“What are you two doing?” a frown mars Sehun’s features. “Kyungsoo said meeting ended ten minutes ago. You promised you’d help me with Chemistry.” He marches over to Minseok, grabbing his arm and dragging him out the door.

Jongdae stares after them, mouth hanging open.

He continues to stare for the next five minutes before finally shutting his mouth and exiting, himself.

“Stupid, stupid Sehun!” Jongdae moans as he drops himself onto the bleacher next to Baekhyun, burying his face into Baekhyun’s shoulder as they wait for Jongin and Yixing to finish up with their dance club meeting.

“Why?” Baekhyun enquires as Chanyeol raises a brow, “what did he do now?”

“Minseok was about to tell me something important on how to win Junmyeon back, but the little greedy idiot stole him away,” Jongdae cries, stomping his feet on the wooden stands.

Feeling strangely sympathetic, Kyungsoo speaks up, tearing his gaze away from Jongin, who’s making come-hither eyes from across the room.

“I can help you get inside his house, you know, to talk to him.”

Jongdae’s head jerks over his shoulder to glance at Kyungsoo. He moves his head so fast, Jongdae gets whiplash. Wincing in pain, he turns his whole body around, grabbing Kyungsoo’s hands.

“Would you? Oh my god please?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo shrugs, “I’m getting tired of all this drama.”

“Oh my god, I love you!” Jongdae shouts, smiling widely for the first time in days, when all of a sudden, things happen so fast, he’s still not sure what really went down.

One second Kyungsoo is there, the next second, Jongin has Kyungsoo whisked away, marching him towards the middle of the gym where the rest of the dance club is still having their meeting.

“What?” Jongdae says in confusion, still blinking at the spot where Kyungsoo was not even a second ago.

“Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house,” Chanyeol shrugs, and Jongdae let’s that process in his mind for a few seconds. When he finally understands, Jongdae turns to Chanyeol with a growl, Baekhyun throwing himself in between to stop Jongdae from launching himself onto Chanyeol and strangling him to death.

“You open up right now!” Kyungsoo bangs his fist against Junmyeon’s door. “I know you’re in there! You’re mom let me in!”

 Kyungsoo and Jongdae hear a small click as Junmyeon unlatches from the inside, swinging the door open just the slightest. Kyungsoo shoves Jongdae inside, shouting a quick apology to Junmyeon on the way down the stairs.

“Sorry! But this is for your own good!” he calls, almost at the bottom landing. “Thanks for the ride Jongdae!”

Slam!

Junmyeon stares with wide eyes as Jongdae stands before him, in his room, while Junmyeon looks like he hasn’t seen a shower in months. Which isn’t too far from the truth. Junmyeon hasn’t showered in the week that he’s been absent from school, lying in bed in the same pair of sweat pants and bedraggled hairdo the entire time. Junmyeon dives into his bed, hiding under the safety of his covers.

Cautiously, Jongdae enters, perching at the very edge of Junmyeon’s bed.

“I came to apologize,” Jongdae begins slowly, staring at the lump cowering under the blanket. “I’m really, really sorry about what I did to you. I know I can say I was drunk, but that’s still no excuse, after I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” Jongdae sniffs, trying not to cry. “I’m really sorry, Junmyeon. But I really miss you. And I really like you a lot. And I really am sorry.”

Junmyeon remains silent.

For a very long time.

Jongdae sighs, crushed, his heart breaking into a thousand, teeny tiny, miniscule pieces.

“If you want me to leave…”

The lump doesn’t even budge.

Broken heart sinking to the bottom of his feet, and even further down way past the floor, Jongdae drags himself up, leaving behind the silent Junmyeon, walking away from the boy he truly cares about, the boy he hurt.

What’s even the point anymore?

Jongdae stares blankly at his television screen, not really watching The Notebook as he shovels a spoonful of Chunky Monkey into his mouth, surrounded by mountains of blankets and pillows.

He doesn’t even spare a second glance as Baekhyun and Chanyeol waltz through the door, both dressed in back tuxedoes and donning matching lavender bowties. Chanyeol heads for the TV, shutting if off while Baekhyun draws open both curtains.

Jongdae hisses as the light burns into his dark accustomed eyes.

“Get up,” Baekhyun commands. “You are getting ready, and you are going to prom.”

“What’s the point,” Jongdae whines as Baekhyun snatches his pint and spoon away, settling it on top of the night stand. “I don’t even have a date anymore.”

“So?” Baekhyun challenges. “Who says you need a date for prom?”

Jongdae whines even louder, burrowing under his blankets and pillows, hiding from that dreaded sun.

Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol yanks every layer of blanket and pillow, tossing it onto the floor.

“I’ve had it with you,” he states in irritation, grabbing Jongdae’s ankles and pulling him off the bed as well. “Stop moping like a whiney little self-absorbed brat and think about your friends. They want you there. So what if you don’t have a date? Aren’t your friends enough?”

Jongdae stares up, rubbing his aching as Chanyeol towers over him.

“Is Junmyeon someone you can really give up that easily? After, what, one try?”

Jongdae shakes his head.

“Are you willing to fight for him?!”

Jongdae nods, mouth still hanging open.

“Well, then, what are you waiting for?!” Chanyeol frowns, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation. “Go do something about it!”

Jongdae continues to stare, eyes blinking and mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Chanyeol slowly brings his hands down.

Jongdae still stares, eyes turning wider by the second.

Baekhyun watches in amusement as Chanyeol coughs in embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll just… wait outside.” And with that, Chanyeol leaves Jongdae’s room in a flurry of awkward limbs and bouncing curls.

“Isn’t he something special,” Baekhyun coos, watching Chanyeol’s retreating back endearingly.

“He just made nice with me,” Jongdae stares at the empty doorway.

“That’s right,” Baekhyun shrugs, tucking his hands into his suit pocket. “Now, come on, Jongdae. We want you to come. You know, your friends? Please?”

“I change my mind,” Jongdae whines as Baekhyun and Chanyeol frog march him through the door. “I don’t want to go anymore.”

“Too late!” Chanyeol chirps as he opens the door, tossing Jongdae in unceremoniously before climbing in after him, Baekhyun coming in after.

Jongdae glares at Chanyeol. “What happened to all the nice?”

Chanyeol shrugs, turning back to Baekhyun and straightening his bowtie for him.

“Hey Jongdae,” greets a quiet, shy voice as Jongdae straightens up in his seat.

“Hey Junymeon,” Jongdae responds before doing a double take, gaping at the stunningly handsome boy sitting to his right. Junmyeon looks very gorgeous indeed, dressed in black slacks and a white button down, with the same matching ruby red tie as Jongdae’s, his hair swept back in an elegant coif.

Jongdae gapes, and Junmyeon blushes, lightly slapping Jongdae’s arm.

“Stop it.”

Jongdae blinks, trying to form some kind of coherent sentence.

“So we pick up Zitao and Kris next, right?” Luhan does a head count, fingers laced with Yixing next to him. “And that’s it?”

“Yup” Minseok replies as Sehun pats a stray hair back into place. “Then we can head out to the pier.”

“So then, how about we get the party started?” Jongin smiles slyly, pulling out a silver flask from his inner suit pocket.

“Really?” Kyungsoo raises a brow. ”You want to do this now?”

“Hey,” Jongin pouts, shaking the flask. “It’s senior prom! We gotta do it with a bang!”

Sehun snorts. “In the years I’ve known you, Kim Jongin, you do not need a reason to get drunk. Don’t you blame senior prom for your incessant need to include alcohol into every single one of your activities.”

Jongin shrugs, unscrewing the lid.

“Cheers!” he takes a long draught, coughing as he holds it out to Kyungsoo, who stares at it skeptically for a few seconds before allowing Jongin to tip some into his throat.

“That is nasty,” Kyungsoo comments with a grimace. “I don’t know why adults like that stuff.”

The flask takes its round, Minseok frowning in mild disapproval as Sehun takes a dainty drink, but he also allows Sehun to pour some down his throat.

Luhan takes an eager gulp, gagging a little as Yixing taps his back. Yixing then takes his own turn, holding his nose with his thumb and forefinger, taking a smaller sip than Luhan.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol tries to outdrink the other, challenging each other to see who can take the longer chug without coughing or making a weird face.

“You two are just gross,” Yixing says conversationally as the limo stops to allow Kris and Zitao to join in. Baekhyun passes the drink to Zitao, who takes a very small sip before passing it on to Kris.

“Right of passage!” Chanyeol crows, “man up buddy!”

Kris merely raises a brow before knocking it back and taking a decent gulp. Their little group cheers Kris on as Kris hands the flask over to Junmyeon, who hesitates, staring at the silver bottle, before taking a small drink.

Everyone falls silent, eyes trained on Junmyeon as he winces, pushing the flask into Jongdae’s hands.

“What?” Junmyeon whines, shying away into Jongdae’s side.

“When was the last time you did anything rebellious?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes round in amazement. “I’ve known you since fourth grade and I have never once seen you break a rule.”

Junmyeon hides his blushing face into Jongdae’s shoulder.

The silence breaks as laughter fills the limo. They pass the remainder of the ride, taking turns from Jongin’s three flasks, and by the time they finish, the limo pulls into the harbor where their prom is to take place on a nice cruise ship.

Everyone climbs out of the car, feeling just slightly fuzzy in the head and warm in the cheeks. Just the right amount of buzz to have a good time.

Luhan and Yixing run for the docks first, peering out into the ocean, as Baekhyun and Chanyeol race for the ship, trying to see who can get there first.

Kris takes Zitao’s hand, taking their own leisurely pace on board, Sehun and Minseok following behind.

“Come on, let’s go!” Minseok calls over his shoulder, waving with his free hand.

Never one to be left behind, Jongin picks up a flailing Kyungsoo, running towards the rest of the group.

“Put me down, you Neanderthal!” Kyungsoo laughs as Jongin passes the others, running all the way inside.

Jongdae smiles as Junmyeon slides his fingers into Jongdae’s hand.

“Let’s go?” Jongdae asks, leading the way, when his forward motion is met with resistence.

“Wait,” Junmyeon says, a light pink blush dusting across his cheeks.

“What?” Jongdae responds curiously, turning back around. If anything, Junmyeon’s face turns even redder.

Now Jongdae is really curious. “What? Tell me.”

Junmyeon bites his lip nervously, but there is resolution in his eyes. He laces both of their hands together, drawing Jongdae in just a little bit closer.

“Stay still,” Junmyeon breathes, and Jongdae can feel his breath tickling his lips.

Jongdae remains stock still, not moving a muscle. He watches Junmyeon blink rapidly, counting each individual lashes as they flutter, and waits patiently.

With a shuddering breath, Junmyeon leans in the rest of the way.

Jongdae smiles as he feels Junmyeon’s warm, soft lips pressing against his own, smiling even wider as Junmyeon’s shaky hands release his fingers, sliding them around Jongdae’s waist.

In this moment, Jongdae thinks he can die right now, and still die happy and fulfilled.

So this is what perfection feels like.

Everything is right with the world.

Jongdae brings his hands up to cup Junmyeon’s glowing cheeks, pressing a little bit closer into the warmth radiating from the president’s body, when a loud voice interrupts their perfect little sphere of happiness.

“Oh my god, you guys are missing everything!” Jongin laughs like a hyena, waving from the entrance, Kyungsoo leaning around him.

“What” Jongdae calls back distractedly, not wanting to relinquish his hold on the now furiously blushing Junmyeon.

“You missed it! Luhan and Soojung were crowned Prom King and Queen!” Jongin crows as Jongdae reluctantly releases Junmyeon’s face, sliding his hand around his waist instead.

“So? I thought we all knew that would happen?” Jongdae says in confusion as Junmyeon hides his tomato red face into Jongdae’s shoulder.

“No, but,” Jongin snorts, impatiently waving for them to come. “When they went up to receive their crowns, Sooojung just grabs both of them and runs off!”

Kyungsoo laughs as Jongin chokes, patting Jongin on the back to free his blocked airways.

“And,” Jongin coughs, continuing. “She just walks up to Minho, puts it on his head, and glares at Luhan like I dare you to open that mouth. I will slap you. Oh my god, the look on Luhan’s face! I wish someone took a picture!”

Jongdae rolls his eyes, as Jongin continues to shout for them to hurry.

“Shall we?” Jongdae smiles bemusedly at the still pink Junmyeon. “After all the hard work ASB put into it, it would if the president missed prom.”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon manages to choke out, trying very hard to control his inner body temperature. “I guess.”

Jongdae gently pats Junmyeon’s cheek before guiding him towards the entrance.

“You brat! Give me back my crown!” they hear Luhan shrieking from somewhere inside the ship.

a/n: sorry 8) drunk girl is drunk. thats the only way i can describe what happened here. ill probably read through this again and TuT yeah see how it is in the morning when im less drunk off wine. also angry drunk girl is angry because 6000 words and word 2010 crashes, not saving squat. /cries. and types it over. so here it is. my drunken misfortune.

/edit: omfg im going through it right now bcoz cant sleep and so many typos and grammatical errors. T^T fixing now as i go.