Tick … tick … tick …

 

Once upon a time, someone had spun Jongdae’s heart too fast, the hands fell off and the springs popped out. It’s now waiting for something, for someone to open his chest and fix it. It feels like a time bomb counting down from a thousand. It feels too fragile, like it’ll explode under the smallest of pressures.

 

Jongdae had never got that timer started.

 

 

 

 

 

A heavy weight suddenly flumps on the couch, causing Jongdae’s end to fly up a bit before sinking down slowly. “Hey, Jongdae.”

 

Jongdae looks to his right and sees Joonmyun smiling at him. Jongdae smiles too, though it’s patched at the lips and frayed at the corners. “Yes, hyung?”

 

Joonmyun scoots closer and pats Jongdae’s head. “Nothing. I just wanted to know how you’re doing.”

 

Jongdae widens his smile. The corners tear. Joonmyun doesn’t notice. “I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure?” Joonmyun’s hand is now his hair. “You don’t look like you are.”

 

Jongdae glances at Joonmyun and sees that grin of his, teasing and serious at the same time. “I’m fine,” he repeats, smile dropping.

 

Joonmyun’s smile doesn’t falter. He pulls Jongdae closer and makes him rest on his shoulder, resting his head atop Jongdae’s. “That’s good,” he says softly. “I don’t want my favorite member to be sad.”

 

Jongdae swallows and tries to calm time that had suddenly started.

 

One thousand … nine hundred and ninety-nine … nine hundred and ninety-eight …

 

 

 

 

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

Jongdae feels suffocated. He wants a way out. He wants freedom from time. Many a time he had glimpsed a light at the end of the tunnel, just calling for him and beckoning for his touch. Jongdae will run towards it, he always does, hand in front of him and fingers outstretched. But every time the light will go out and Jongdae will be left in the darkness.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

It doesn’t matter for him, though. Even if it takes years, he will find and hold on to that freedom.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

He isn’t Zitao. He won’t easily break and show that delicate, battered heart he had carefully hidden behind stone walls. It had taken him years to fully construct those walls and to cement in the spaces. No, he’s nothing like the boy. Zitao cries over the smallest things and gets emotional too easy.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

Jongdae likes to think of himself as emotionally stable. He likes to think of people like Chanyeol unemotionally stable. He doesn’t know how to control his excitement.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

He lives on control.

 

 

 

 

 

“Jongdae, you need to take a break.”

 

Jongdae doesn’t have to look up to know who it is. “It’s fine, hyung.” The honorific is there, but it leaves a bitter taste on the back of his tongue. “I’m fine.”

 

“You always say that, though,” Joonmyun sighs. “Look, you’ve been through the routine tens of hundreds of times. Even Jongin and Yixing called it quits two hours ago. Why’re you working so hard on this anyway? You’ve never tried so hard on a dance choreo before.”

 

Jongdae pauses, glancing at Joonmyun’s reflection. He doesn’t look up to meet his eyes. He doesn’t want him to see how tired they are. “This is different,” he automatically says. “This … this is proving myself …”

 

Joonmyun goes towards Jongdae and places a hand on the small of his back. “You’ve proven yourself so many times, Jongdae.” His smile is genuine. “Time to step back and let others shine.”

 

Jongdae feels warmth spread from Joonmyun’s fingers to the rest of his body.

 

Nine hundred and seventeen … nine hundred and sixteen … nine hundred and fifteen …

 

 

 

 

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

Jongdae isn’t a robot. No, he doesn’t want to be a robot.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

He needs someone to carefully snip the blue, red, white, green, yellow, black wires wrapped around his heart. It’s been under pressure for far too long.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

He hates that sound.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

He hates it so much.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

It’s like someone’s counting down to his death.

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

He needs someone.

 

Tick.

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae stays motionless on his side. His eyes are staring at the clock, not really looking as the red numbers tick by, watching as seconds pass. He’s so engrossed in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice someone squirming their way into his bed. He starts when an arm places itself over his skinny waist.

 

Joonmyun chuckles. “You’re so jumpy.”

 

Jongdae evidently relaxes when he recognizes the voice. He shuffles back so that he’s cocooned in Joonmyun’s warmth. “I was thinking.”

 

“I can tell,” Joonmyun buries his head into Jongdae’s nape. “You didn’t answer when I knocked on the door.” He peeks at the clock and frowns. “It’s past two, Jongdae. Go to sleep. The rest of the band’s knocked out already.”

 

“And you’re not part of the band?” Jongdae asks, a smile crawling to his lips. It’s becoming more genuine.

 

“As leader, I have privileges,” Joonmyun shrugs. “Your leader’s horrible. He’s already sleeping with your youngest member.”

 

“I sincerely hope you mean that literally.” Jongdae shudders at the thought of Yifan and Zitao together.

 

Joonmyun laughs. “Yes, literally. Zitao has Baby trapped in between them as protection.”

 

“Pity he didn’t make Baby guard our house along with Eureongie,” Jongdae sighs. “It’s not satisfying only kicking around one of them.”

 

Joonmyun smiles and closes his eyes, pulling Jongdae closer and snuggling into him. “You’re mean.”

 

Jongdae doesn’t reply. He can hear the telltale sound of Joonmyun’s light snoring. He just hopes that Joonmyun can’t feel the heavy thudding in his chest.

 

Eight hundred and sixty-five … eight hundred and sixty-four … eight hundred and sixty-three …

 

 

 

 

 

Once upon a time, someone had attached a timer to Jongdae’s heart. They smashed the clock and watched the numbers go in a frenzy, jumping from twenty-three to four hundred and sixty-seven to eighty-five.

 

Jongdae had stared, horrified. “What did you do?!”

 

“Time’s going to start, Jongdae,” the person said, “and your world depends on it. Are you going to look for someone to save your world? Or are you going to wait for someone else to step in and control time again, like how you allowed me to control it?”

 

Jongdae had swallowed, but he had never searched for that person. He doesn’t feel the need to. He just knows that the moment the timer reaches zero, his whole world will collapse.

 

He just needs to survive it.

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae doesn’t remember collapsing in the middle of the dorm. He can only make out Baekhyun’s alarmed squawk and Luhan’s worried face and Jongin crying out his name, but he definitely remembers the warmth that picks him up and brings him to his room. He definitely remembers the gentleness used to lay him on his bed.

 

“Geez …” Joonmyun chuckles, no humor in his tone as he brushes Jongdae’s hair back. “I told you to take it easy, Jongdae, why do you never listen …”

 

Jongdae’s vision is blurry. “Why did they give Zitao the power of Time?”

 

Joonmyun’s hand doesn’t stop.

 

“Is …” Jongdae swallows, “is he the one going to save the timer? Is he the one going to cut the wires?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jongdae,” Joonmyun sounds concerned now.

 

Jongdae blinks at the ceiling, swirls greeting his eyes. “There’s a timer with a smashed clock and wires too fragile. It’s so delicate that with one wrong move, someone’s world can explode. As the one with the power of Time, isn’t it fitting that he fixes the timer?”

 

Joonmyun places a hand over Jongdae’s eyes, ignoring his surprised yelp and forcing them to close. “Just because his power is Time Control, doesn’t mean he can fix things related to time. Zitao’s a clumsy boy. He’ll end up breaking it even more. Now stop talking and go to sleep. Your body’s strained because of your stubbornness.”

 

Jongdae does, but not before entertaining the thought of Jongin being a possible option.

 

Seven hundred and thirty-two … seven hundred and thirty-one … seven hundred and thirty …

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, you.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Hmm?”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“You found someone to fix the timer, didn’t you? And that’s why time started.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Hmm.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Who’s that person? Who did you give the scissors to?”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“What makes you think I gave it to someone? Can’t they find it themselves?”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Stop playing around and tell me.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“… Pliers are used to cut wires, not scissors, Jongdae.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Because if they used scissors, that would be suicide.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Jongin, your power is Teleportation, right?”

 

Jongin sleepily blinks at Jongdae. “Yeah. Why?”

 

Jongdae purses his lips. “When … when you teleported in the MAMA music video, did you rip through time and space or only one of the two?”

 

Jongin gives him a look that clearly says ‘what’. “I don’t ing know, Jongdae, I’m not the director.”

 

“But imagine that you were,” Jongdae presses on because he needs to know. “What do you want to rip through? Time? Space? Both?”

 

Jongin blinks. He furrows his eyebrows, contemplating the thought. It’s been a few moments of silence and Jongdae’s just about to hit something to ease his nerves when Jongin sighs and shrugs. “I would say … space.”

 

Jongdae’s taken aback. He clearly wasn’t expecting that answer. “What? Why not time? Or both?”

 

Jongin sighs again. He’s really tired and just wants to go to sleep, but Jongdae had to suddenly spring on him before he even had the chance to leave for his room. “Because I can’t rip through time only but I can with space. If I ripped through time, I can manipulate it and that’s unfair to Tao and his power. And I don’t want to rip through both because I don’t want to manipulate time. Now leave me alone and let me sleep.”

 

Jongdae stares after the dancer, watching him slam the door behind him. Maybe Jongin’s not the fixer.

 

His timer isn’t counting.

 

 

 

 

 

“You won’t even tell me who the person is?”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Not even a hint?”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“But Jongdae, that defeats the whole purpose of finding that someone.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“But …”

 

Tock.

 

“Someone’s trying to cut the wire. They’re trying to save your heart, Jongdae.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae doesn’t want to get up. It’s 7:09 in the ing morning and their practice starts at eight. How could they expect him to be at practice when he hasn’t even reached home by midnight?

 

“Jongdae,” Luhan’s voice is soft, but it does nothing to calm that throbbing pain in Jongdae’s head. “It’s time to get up. Come on.”

 

Jongdae doesn’t budge.

 

“Come on, Dae,” Minseok’s voice joins in. “Leader demands you to be up.”

 

Jongdae turns over and covers his head with the blankets. “It’s only one leader’s opinion. I need both.”

 

Luhan rolls his eyes. “Joonmyun left early with some of the other K and M members. He isn’t here.”

 

“Who isn’t here?”

 

Jongdae stiffens at the voice and Luhan blinks at the appearance of the other leader who’s supposed to be in the van halfway to SM building. “Joonmyun, Jongdae won’t get up,” Minseok sighs dramatically. “We have practice and he’s being unreasonable.”

 

Joonmyun smiles at the two oldest members then furrows his eyebrows. “Kris didn’t tell him to get up?”

 

Minseok sniggers. “Jongdae said he needed both of the leaders’ opinions.”

 

Joonmyun rolls his eyes and pats Luhan’s back. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll talk to Stubborn Beauty here.”

 

Minseok whisks Luhan away before the Chinese man can ask what that means.

 

Jongdae groans. “Let me lie here and rot, hyung. Go away.”

 

“No way,” Joonmyun grins. “Come on, kitty cat, up and at ’em.” He flips Jongdae over and grabs his arms, pulling him fruitlessly. Jongdae pulls back, forcing Joonmyun to fall forward into his bed. “Ow! You really don’t want to go to practice, do you?” Joonmyun’s voice is muffled against the pillow.

 

Jongdae sighs happily and drapes himself all over Joonmyun. “Not even both the leaders’ opinion can change my mind about that.”

 

Joonmyun wiggles from Jongdae’s body and stretches, resting an arm over Jongdae’s skinny waist. “That’s fine, I guess. I didn’t wanna go to practice anyway, either.”

 

Jongdae cracks an eye open and regards Joonmyun with a hum. “Then why are you here? Aren’t you here to make me get up?”

 

Joonmyun shakes his head. “Nah. You have to do that yourself. It’s your responsibility now when you signed up to be a singer.” He grins cheekily. “I just needed someone to hug.” He buries his face into Jongdae’s chest and Jongdae takes a deep breath.

 

Six hundred and five … six hundred and four … six hundred and three …

 

 

 

 

 

“Talk to me.”

 

Bang.

 

“Why did the sound change?”

 

Bang.

 

“Where did the ticking go?”

 

Bang.

 

“Why … why am I happy about it?”

 

 

 

 

 

曾经的我太过自私只照顾我自己、 yeah

 

“You have a beautiful voice.”

 

Jongdae looks up to see Joonmyun sit on the couch next to him, earphones plugged in. Jongdae smiles, but it’s not as patched as last time. He’s getting better with the whole genuinely smiling thing. “Are you listening to –”

 

“– Miracles in December, yeah,” Joonmyun smiles. “You have a beautiful voice.”

 

曾经的我太傻不懂得你的心

 

Jongdae looks down and tries to focus on not blushing. The color doesn’t show on his cheeks, but he still doesn’t want Joonmyun to see his face.

 

“I wanted to be one of the ones chosen to sing this song, too, you know,” Joonmyun quietly confesses.

 

现在的我一天天在改变明明你不在我身边

 

Jongdae looks at him in shock and surprise. “Then why didn’t you?”

 

Joonmyun chuckles. “Because there’s Baekhyun and Kyungsoo. And that’s enough main vocalists for one subgroup.”

 

却因为你而改变因为你给的爱 。。。

 

“And besides,” Joonmyun scoots closer to Jongdae, grinning brilliantly at him. “I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

 

Jongdae’s sure the timer’s spinning really fast right now.

 

Five hundred and thirty-seven … five hundred and thirty-four … five hundred and twenty-one …

 

 

 

 

 

“He said he thinks my voice is beautiful.”

 

Boom.

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

Boom.

 

“…”

 

Boom.

 

“Jongdae?”

 

Boom.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Boom.

 

“Do you want it to be?”

 

Boom.

 

“…”

 

Boom.

 

“Jongdae.”

 

Boom.

 

“For him, I do.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you think clocks can be fixed?”

 

Joonmyun spares Jongdae a glance before focusing back onto his phone. “I guess it all depends on how broken they are.”

 

Jongdae lays a hand on Joonmyun’s arm, silently pleading him to look at him. Joonmyun does. “Let me tell you a story. Please, please listen.”

 

Joonmyun nods once and puts his phone away. “Okay.”

 

Jongdae swallows. “There’s this person, a boy, if you will. Someone had strapped a time bomb to his heart. They also smashed the timer, so now the boy has no idea how long he has for it to explode.” Joonmyun stays silent. Jongdae looks up at him through his lashes. “The person said that the boy’s world will collapse if it explodes. The boy needs someone to fix it.” He takes Joonmyun’s hand and squeezes it tight. “He needs that someone badly.”

 

Joonmyun gathers Jongdae into his arms and smiles warmly. “I want to be that someone,” he says softly. “Put me in that story and let me fix the boy’s heart.”

 

Jongdae blinks wetly and inhales Joonmyun’s musky scent. “That boy will forever be indebted to you,” he whispers.

 

Joonmyun chuckles. “I don’t want him to be indebted to me. I just want him to be happy.”

 

Jongdae feels so relieved he could cry.

 

Four hundred and seventy-six … four hundred and seventy-five … four hundred and seventy-four …

 

 

 

 

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“W … why is it ticking again? I thought someone was saving my heart!”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Yes, but I did say they were trying to. Maybe they didn’t try hard enough. Maybe they gave up and left because it was too hard to save.”

 

Tick … tick … tick …

 

“Maybe it’s too late.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae can’t breathe.

 

His eyes are open and his chest is heaving and the dark dark dark room is closing in on him. He sits up with a gasp, trying to inhale in sweet, sweet oxygen, throat tightening up when his body refuses to accept his breathing attempts.

 

Jongdae flumps back down on his bed, a strangled whimper escaping him. God, why now? Of all times for his panic attack to return, why now? He was doing so well, so wonderful just trying to survive his breaking world, but no. His body decides to throw a random panic attack into the mix.

 

The door to his bedroom opens and Joonmyun pokes his head in, no doubt checking to see if all his sweet members are asleep before turning in. His jaw drops at the sight of Jongdae writhing on the bed and he wastes no time sprinting in, holding Jongdae and cradling him to his chest.

 

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispers into the younger singer’s ear. “Focus only on my voice, okay? Now take a deep breath, hold it in for three seconds and slowly let it out. Come on, deep breath in …”

 

Jongdae tries to calm his speeding heart, breathing in and letting it out shakily after holding his breath for three seconds. He repeats the process a few more times until his eyes are closed, air passing through his lips slowly.

 

Joonmyun smiles and Jongdae’s head. “Good boy.” He kisses his hair for good measure. “Now, do you know what brought it on this time?”

 

Only Joonmyun is the one person Jongdae had confided his panic attacks in. He only trusts him and no one else. The management doesn’t need to know, s don’t need to know, and he’s sure as hell that his fans are the people who most definitely need not know. Jongdae shakes his head.

 

Joonmyun’s smile softens and he holds Jongdae closer. “It’s fine. Just know that I’m here, okay? Just know that I will always be the one to help you get through these attacks.”

 

Jongdae feels himself tearing up and wills the tears away. Joonmyun is so good to him.

 

Three hundred and five … three hundred and four … three hundred and three …

 

 

 

 

 

Tick … tick … ti— boom.

 

“What happened?”

 

Boom.

 

“I’m impressed, Jongdae. This person must be really keen in saving your heart.”

 

Boom.

 

“What happened?!”

 

Boom.

 

“They went away to get a better pair of ‘scissors’. The old one was too weak and it broke.”

 

Boom.

 

“Is … is that person Joonmyun? Is the one trying to save my heart Joonmyun? I want it to be him.”

 

Boom.

 

“Hmm. Who knows.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae squints at the clouds, head pillowed on Joonmyun’s lap. “What’s your favorite color, Joonmyun?”

 

Joonmyun dog-ears his page (he knows when to listen to Jongdae when the younger man calls him his name instead of using an honorific) and looks skywards. The clouds are big and fluffy, and looking at them had always sent a calm in his heart. “Sky blue.”

 

“Why?”

 

Joonmyun grins lazily. “Because it’s the color of the sky. It’s calming and relaxing. Just looking at the color will melt all my troubles away.” He looks down and his grin grows wider. “It’s also the favorite color of a certain Jongdae, and it makes me feel special for liking it because it feels like we’re sharing something only the two of us like.”

 

Jongdae tries to will away the blush threatening to creep to his cheeks. “How would you know that we’re the only two people who like sky blue?”

 

Joonmyun looks back up and threads his fingers in Jongdae’s hair, idly combing it. “Because right now, those other people who like sky blue are important in other people’s lives, just like how you are the most important person in my life.” His hand stops. “They don’t know you as well as I do, and that makes me feel special.”

 

Jongdae stares at the absent-minded smile forming on Joonmyun’s lips and he sighs, closing his eyes.

 

Maybe just this one time, he’ll allow himself to blush.

 

Two hundred and forty-nine … two hundred and forty-eight … two hundred and forty-seven …

 

 

 

 

 

“Why did you do this?”

 

Click.

 

“Why did you pick me?”

 

Bang.

 

“Why am I the one unfortunate victim being used by you as a pawn in your sick game?”

 

Boom.

 

“Hmm.”

 

Snap.

 

“Who knows.”

 

Crack.

 

“I was bored.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae watches as Joonmyun attempt to form a crown made out of bubbles. He sighs and continues to watch. It’s been months since he’s showered with another man, and with Joonmyun no less. It’s not helping with his sudden conscious thoughts of how skinny he looks right now.

 

Joonmyun grins goofily at him, skin wet and hair plastered to his forehead and Jongdae’s traitorous eyes slip down.

 

The older man’s body is lean and pliant, muscles in the right places and the beginnings of a hard set of muscle shyly peeking from his flat stomach. His collarbones are sharp and his legs are long and shapely. Jongdae doesn’t dare look at his privates and instead focuses on his own body.

 

His body is, to no one’s surprise, more on the lean and lanky side. His stick-thin arms look like toothpicks compared to Joonmyun’s more muscled ones, his stomach is too flat that he can see his ribs, his hipbones are apparent and his chicken legs look like they can break at any moment.

 

Joonmyun taps him on the shoulder and Jongdae looks up, his eyes glassy. Joonmyun smiles at him – something he’s been doing a lot lately, Jongdae realizes – and brushes away the hair from his eyes. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says and Jongdae smiles a bit at that (because he does. He really does), “and you’re wonderful. Your body is perfect just the way it is and you are perfect just the way you are.” He pulls Jongdae into a sudden hug and Jongdae tries not to focus on how close their members are –

 

“You’re beautiful,” Joonmyun breathes into his ear. “Okay?” he adds, as if Jongdae has any say in what he thinks.

 

But Jongdae knows that tone of voice, and that tone of voice holds no room for argument. So he just hugs Joonmyun back and nods.

 

One hundred and one … one hundred … ninety-nine …

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey. You have a hundred seconds left. You might not make it.”

 

Boom.

 

“Thanks for letting me know.”

 

Crash.

 

“Hey. That person has a hundred seconds left to save your heart. They may make it.”

 

Snap.

 

“…”

 

Bang.

 

“Thanks for letting me know.”

 

 

 

 

 

“What would you do if I said that I love you more than a friend should?”

 

Joonmyun spins the swivel chair he’s on and Jongdae takes that as a cue to go into his room. Joonmyun pushes away from his table (they’re filled with notes from the earlier meeting and evaluation forms of the members that he has to send to management along with Yifan’s but Jongdae’s more important right now) and sits on his bed, Jongdae following suit. “What would I do?”

 

Jongdae nods. He doesn’t trust himself to speak.

 

Joonmyun shrugs. “Then I’d just accept it and love you back.”

 

Jongdae blinks, obviously not having expected this answer. “Really? You won’t be disgusted that a boy would confess to you? That a member would confess to you?”

 

Joonmyun shrugs again. “I never really cared for those things. They’re just trivial things people focus on to generate their disgust on. I won’t judge you on your ual preference.” He grins. “I’ll just judge you when you’re in one of those dancing moments.”

 

Jongdae lets out an incredulous laugh and shove Joonmyun’s hard.

 

“So, do you love me more than a friend should?” Joonmyun scratches his head.

 

Jongdae’s laugh dies and he carefully studies the other’s face. That same, kind expression that would never leave is still there. There’s no hint of disgust or judgment in those eyes and Jongdae feels like he can tell him everything. He smiles and shakes his head. “No,” he says softly. “It was just a question. I was just asking.”

 

Joonmyun laughs and his eyes crinkle, showing no disappointment or sadness or even any emotion that shows he’s affected by Jongdae’s answer. “Okay then.”

 

Jongdae swallows and wonders if he should’ve listened to his heart that was screaming yes yes yes.

 

Fifty … forty-nine … forty-eight …

 

 

 

 

 

“Jongdae.”

 

Beep.

 

“Jongdae, your timer’s –”

 

Beep.

 

“Yes.”

 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 

“Yes. I know.”

 

 

 

 

 

“If I were a girl, I’d date you,” Jongdae whispers, interlacing his fingers with Joonmyun’s.

 

The two boys had decided last-minute to ditch their warm, cozy beds in favor of camping out in the living room. They had gathered their blankets and pillows and made a fort, one blanket being propped on two of Zitao’s Wushu sticks to serve as a makeshift roof, before snuggling into their fortress of softness and cuddling each other.

 

Yifan had poked his head into the living room earlier on and rolled his eyes when he’s met with the sight of Joonmyun and Jongdae sticking glow-in-the-dark stars, planets and moons all over the living room walls and ceiling.

 

The room is now dark, and the stickers are breathtakingly beautiful.

 

Joonmyun his thumb on the back of Jongdae’s hand. “Really? This coming from the guy who wouldn’t choose me as the most handsome member back when I chose him as the most handsome member?”

 

Jongdae grins and it’s so genuine he could feel himself getting giddy. “You still can’t be hung up over that,” he laughs quietly. “Everyone knows that I love you most, Joonmyun.”

 

Joonmyun hums in contentment. “Uranus is pretty,” he says, eyes trained on the small Uranus sticker somewhere above Jongdae.

 

There’s a dirty innuendo just waiting to be called out by Jongdae, but Jongdae turns his head and stares at the gentle slope of Joonmyun’s nose, the messy tussle of his hair, the pretty curves of his smile and the sparkle in his eyes that never seem to go away. Jongdae can feel himself melting just by admiring his face. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, it really is.”

 

Joonmyun focuses on another planet. It’s Mars this time. “I’d date you, too, even if you were a guy.”

 

“Really?” Jongdae presses teasingly. His heart is threatening to jump out of his chest, but Joonmyun doesn’t need to know that. “Even if I was gay?”

 

Joonmyun turns to look at Jongdae. He has that look on his face, the look that says ‘how dare you not remember what I told you’, though now it’s coupled with a reassuring smile. “If you were still yourself, Jongdae, no matter what you are, bi, gay, lesbian, transual, Mexican, I’d still date you.”

 

Jongdae can sing from happiness. “I’d … I’d still date you, too,” he whispers.

 

Joonmyun’s grip on his hand doesn’t falter even for a second.

 

 

 

 

 

Ten … nine … eight …

 

“You’re almost out of time.”

 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 

“What? No, that can’t be true! It was half a minute just a few seconds ago!”

 

Seven … six … five …

 

“Maybe Joonmyun isn’t the one meant to save your heart after all. He started the timer, but maybe he wasn’t the one meant to fix it.”

 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 

“No! No, I was so close! He was so close!”

 

Four …

 

“Tick tock, Jongdae. Your time’s almost up. How’re you gonna survive this?”

 

Beep.

 

“Shut up!”

 

Three …

 

“He can do it … he can do it!”

 

Beep.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Two …

 

“I … I …”

 

Beep.

 

“Time’s up.”

 

One …

 

“Goodbye, Jongdae.”

 

Bee— snip.

 

Jongdae stays still, heart pounding as the sound of something being cut is registered. He glances up and his mouth drops open as he sees Joonmyun grinning brilliantly at him, waving a pair of pliers in his hand.

 

“Oh hey,” he says brightly. “Looks like I was just in time, huh?”

 

Jongdae doesn’t stop staring.

 

“Man, you have no idea how long it took for me to figure out which wire to cut,” Joonmyun laughs, wiping away the perspiration forming on his forehead. “And then when I tried to cut it, the pliers broke, so I had to get a new one. I was only able to come back now. It was brutal.”

 

Jongdae doesn’t close his mouth.

 

Joonmyun’s smile fades and a thin line of concern takes its place. “Jongdae?” He takes a hesitant step forward, brows furrowing in worry. “Jongdae, are you okay?”

 

A cry escapes Jongdae’s lip and he falls forward, tears already running down his cheeks. “Thank you, Joonmyun,” he sobs in relief, a huge burden being lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you so much.”

 

Joonmyun smiles and sinks to his knees in front of Jongdae. He collects the boy into a hug and kisses the top of his hair. “I told you to put me in that story, Jongdae. I told you I wanted to save the boy’s heart. I wanted to save your heart. Why didn’t you put me in earlier?”

 

“I didn’t know,” Jongdae sobs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. They hurt a lot, but Jongdae’s so relieved the pain doesn’t matter. “I didn’t know it would be you. I wasn’t expecting it to be you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

 

Joonmyun lifts Jongdae’s face up and wipes away his tears, smiling kindly at Jongdae’s drenched face, red nose and puffy eyes. He kisses the tip of that nose and grins. “I just want that boy to be happy.”

 

Jongdae dissolves into another bout of sobs and Joonmyun laughs as he hugs him close.

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re evil, you know that?”

 

The corner of Zitao’s lips pulls up. He’s sitting on the dining table, legs crossed and doesn’t tear his gaze away from where Jongdae’s asleep and resting his head on Joonmyun’s shoulder, the latter reading a novel and occasionally reaching up to pat Jongdae’s hair or his cheek.

 

Yifan sighs and stretches an arm forward, patting Zitao’s head. “Why did you do that to Jongdae, you little .”

 

Zitao’s grin grows wider and absentmindedly stirs his coffee. “Because it was fun,” he admits. “It’s been years since he first heard my voice, but I don’t know why he didn’t realize that the person was me all along. He made the game very interesting. It was fun playing with him.”

 

“You’re evil, you know that?” Yifan repeats, though now there’s an amused smile on his face.

 

“And that’s why I control Time,” Zitao hums and stands up, pushing his coffee into Yifan’s fingers. “I wanna play a new game. Who should be the new player?”

 

Yifan grins. “Well, I recently heard Jongin muttering to Sehun about how he wanted to rip through time and space …”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

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- To those who don’t understand, let’s just think of the time bomb as Jongdae’s feelings. If you read it properly and carefully, you would see that the timer only starts counting when he’s around Joonmyun. It paused when he was with Jongin.
- Some of you might also be wondering “but how can the time bomb be Jongdae’s feelings if Joonmyun was there to cut the wires?” You know those times where you’re so stressed and troubled that you sometimes imagine someone you love helping you out of your problems? … No? … Just me then? … Okay ; ;
- Here are someJoonDae yes, i call it JoonDae; I think it’s cuter compared to SuChen for you to enjoy \o/