"Um, Yifan," Yixing starts, voice careful. "Why is your face green?" He asks and Yifan snorts because this is just pathetic. Yixing’s been trying to get on his’s nerves for awhile now, and he really needs to pick up his game if he wants to go somewhere.

 

“My face isn’t green, Yixing, but nice try.” Yifan responds, lips twitching. “Better luck next time.” And he’s back to reading his magazine (InStyle is the best) while comfortably sprawled on his bed, legs crossed at the ankles. The fifth symphony is playing softly on the background on his phone, volume turned down to the lowest setting to make the atmosphere all the more relaxing.

 

“I’m not joking this time, though,” The dancer remarks. “Your face is green. Like, gross, alien green.” It’s not hard to miss, even without looking, that Yixing is trying not to laugh. The little snorts and deep breaths he takes to calm himself down are enough of an indicator for that.

 

Yifan sighs and closes his magazine, putting it under his pillow after unsuccessfully trying to read the same page for the second time. Yixing is distracting, and not in a good way.

 

“Stop it, Yixing, my face is not green.” All it takes is a look from the taller for Yixing to explode into an annoying fit of laughter. He trips and falls over himself, his face growing red with the lack of oxygen. He even snorts once while trying to inhale the much needed air for his lungs. Not attractive.

 

Yifan is not amused. He crosses his arms and waits, but when he realizes that the dancer won’t be stopping anytime soon he is forced to leave the room and lock the door (yes he can lock the door because he’s the leader and the leader has every damn key used in the dorm because he’s special like that), successfully managing to tune out Yixing’s annoying laugh.

 

Without much of a choice Exo-M’s leader makes his way to the living area to watch some television-- something he hasn’t done in awhile due to the many schedules and practices they have. For all he knows half of the world could be underwater.

 

Upon entering their poor excuse of a living room (SM should invest in a better dorm for Exo-M), Yifan is not surprised to see Jongdae sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, massive books  and papers strewn over the whole surface. Those are probably his ‘Learning Mandarin’ books because the younger looks very absorbed and concentrated, his brows furrowed slightly. It's kind of cute, really, how hard Jongdae works and tries to learn such a dificult language. Yifan is so proud.

 

He looks over Jongdae’s shoulder, reading one of the titles of the many books, and in thick, bold letters ‘How to Make Steamed Buns’ is written across the front cover. That is not Mandarin.

 

“You’re making steamed buns?” The leader asks, taking a seat on the couch. He tries to relax again, after being so rudely interrupted Yixing, but has a feeling he won’t be able to no matter how much he tries.

 

Jongdae shrugs and responds over the pen that’s between his lips. Understanding him is even more difficult that way, but Yifan’s the leader so he manages. “Minseok loves ‘em, and he’s been bragging about how Luhan always makes him steamed buns,” Jongdae sounds casual, but he’s really not. Yifan’s the leader and he knows when something is up. He also knows about the semi-war that’s going on between Luhan and Jongdae for Minseok’s heart (). Yifan bets his skin care products on Jongdae because Luhan is a moron without a copy and wouldn’t even know if he had Minseok (which he does, sort of).

 

“Good luck, then. I have my bets on you so you better get Minseok’s , or heart, whichever you prefer,” After a short second of thought, Yifan adds, “I’d go for the if I was you. Damn, that’s one fine , if you ask me.” Jongdae just hums, paying him no attention.

 

Yifan leans back against the couch and turns on the TV, which, unsurprisingly, is on a fashion chanel and , he was right. Half of the world might not be underwater, but Gucci has a new collection. That’s worse than the world being underwater. Thank god he didn’t miss this or else Zitao would...yeah, he’s glad he didn’t miss it.

 

The leader is in deep thought, trying to remember how much money he has in his bank account, and how much he will be lacking by the end of today, when suddenly, “!” Jongdae screams, successfully flipping over the table while trying to crawl away from Yifan.

 

Yifan rolls his eyes. Really now? “I know I’m sometimes too hot to handle, but you don’t have to flip , literally, when you see me, Chenchen.” He chuckles.

 

“Why in the world are you walking around the dorm like this? Are you trying to give us a heart attack?” Jongdae shrieks.

 

“Like what?” Yifan asks, eyebrow raised. “A normal person?”

 

“Normal people don’t have green faces!” Okay, this is strange. Why is Jongdae telling him this? Maybe he’s in it with Yixing. Yeah. He’s definitely in it with Yixing, trying to make fun of Yifan. Everyone’s in it with Yixing. Damn that cute unicorn and his unresistant face.

 

“For ’s sake,” The leader groans, rubbing his eyes. “My face is not green.”

 

“Um, yes. Yes, it is.” Jongdae argues.

 

“No, it is not.” Yifan is stubborn, because leaders have to stand their ground and not back down no matter what. Even if they’re wrong. Even if the world is falling apart and--

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

“No, it’s--”

 

“Shut up and go the bathroom. See for yourself. God.” It’s decided-- Yifan does not like Jongdae. He’s too bossy and his job is not to be bossy. His job is to sing. Yifan’s job is to be bossy because he is the damn leader and a leader’s job is to be bossy.

 

“Fine,” With a huff, Yifan stands up from the couch and goes to the bathroom, rolling his eyes. Not childish, not at all.

 

Before entering the bathroom, he makes sure to knock three times for good measures. The first knock is to check if someone is occupying the bathroom. Second is to make sure that whoever is occupying it (if anyone’s in there, that is) hears him knocking. And the third is for just in case, because Yifan does not want to witness Luhan with his fingers up his while having phone with Sehun, who on the other hand is having a video chat with Jongin (Yifan really didn’t want to know any of that but apparently Chanyeol doesn’t know that people’s lives should be kept a secret, and Baekhyun has no shame), ever again

 

When he receives no answer the three times he knocks, the leader opens the door and walks inside the small bathroom, carefully closing it behind him out of instinct (you just pick up those kinds of instincts when you live with five other guys. Five other hormonal guys that just need a single pretty sight to keep them every night in a row for a whole month. Yifan is a pretty damn good sight, so he doesn’t want to risk it).

 

He stands in front of the mirror for a good minute, then another one just in case (he likes to be sure of things, okay) before taking a deep breath, holding it in, and exhaling. He repeats the motion seven times.

 

Yifan, the calm person he is, quietly leaves the bathroom, but instead of returning to the living room and finishing watching the fashion show (he knows he’ll regret not doing so later), he makes a sharp turn to the left where the bedrooms are located.

 

He passes his own room, ignoring the angry shouts of, “I swear to god, leader or not, I will shave off your hair and take pictures and I will upload them on the internet if you don’t unlock this door right now!” and loud banging coming from Yixing (it’s his own fault for being locked in there, and if it isn’t, it has something to do with him, Yifan is sure of it).

 

He stops in front of the second door to the right. He doesn’t know for sure who’s room this is, but after looking at the countless panda stickers and awfully shaped baseballs? he’s sure he’s standing in front of Minseok’s and Zitao’s room. Only Zitao would take his time to decorate a door.

 

He knocks once, and opens the door, taking a step inside the brightly lit room. He then closes and locks the door, because if this doesn’t go as planned Zitao will need all the extra time he can get to run away from the crime scene (after killing Yifan in coldblood for getting blamed for something he didn’t do, that is).

 

“Duizhang, what are you doing here?” Minseok’s the one who asks the question, hesitation in his voice. He’s probably looking at Yifan’s back (gorgeous, hot, y back), his head tilted slightly to the right, because the leader is too busy marveling the human-sized poster of Big Bang’s Seungri that is taped to the door. Honestly, Yifan’s afraid to look at them.

 

With his face still facing away from his two bandmates, the leader speaks, “Have you two touched my skin care products?”

 

“Your skin care products?” Zitao repeats. “Um, no. I think you made it pretty clear last time that you don’t want anyone touching them. You sent us all to a ty hotel,” He kindly reminds. Ah, good memories, those were.Yifan remembers everyone’s shocked, panicked and scared faces, their eyes begging him to not send them away, like it happened just last week. “Which was like, last week, so the memory’s still pretty fresh.” Oh.

 

“Well,” Yifan grumbles. “Apparently someone didn’t learn their lesson,” And then he turns around to face Minseok and Zitao. Poor souls, having to witness this.

 

“Oh…” The two of them exclaim, the corners of their mouths twitching upwards.

 

“Laugh and I promise you it will be the last thing you’ll be able to do before you are nailed to a hospital bed for the rest of your days, yours eyes the only functioning part of your whole body, got it?” Leaders have to be strict, sometimes, show everyone who’s in charge. Yifan takes that task at heart. Because if he only ever spoils and babies them they’ll think of him as a weakling and a bad leader. Yifan is not a weakling and he is not a bad leader. “Now, did you or did you not have anything to do with this?” He points at his face, scowling.

 

“We didn’t do it, we swear!” Zitao blurts out, eyes wide and frightened. He looks so cute Yifan feels his smile. But no, Yifan cannot think of his ual urges right now. He has responsibilities and they come first, before anything else. Responsibilities like finding who the made his face a hideous shade of green that makes him look like an alien (but not that kind of an alien, not an Exo one, because Exo aliens are hot and y and to die for. An alien from Mars), because no one messes with the leader’s face, that’s just not how things work.

 

“Oh, I believe you,” Yifan coos at Zitao, unable to resist his cuteness at the end. He gets his act together right after, though, and nods curtly at Minseok before unlocking the door and walking out of the room.

 

Yifan chooses to ignore the sounds of dying hyenas the moment he closes the door.

 

He heads for the next room, which belongs to Luhan and Yixing, and stands in front of it for a second, gathering his thoughts and getting his emotions under control. He has this feeling that whatever (or whoever) is behind that door is the reason behind all of this (and it’s Yixing’s room so therefore it is linked to Yixing. It’s always YixingYixngYixng).

 

He takes a deep breath and twists the doorknob, and as quietly as he possibly can pushes the door open.

 

“Please,” Someone moans, making Yifan freeze. He’s stuck, a half of him inside the room and the other half still outside. He holds his breath because, , that sounds like Jongin.

 

“Don’t worry, Nini,” Luhan purrs. He ing purrs and for a moment Yifan thinks he’s going to faint. Luhan is having a video chat (video chat ?) with Jongin, again, as if the phone with Sehun isn’t enough.

 

It’s not that this whole situation isn’t completely y, because it is, it’s really y and -hardening, but at the same time it’s very...disturbing, to say the least. And awkward. But to be fair Yifan isn’t supposed to witness this…

 

Luhan is on his bed, back turned to the door. His legs are spread as wide as they possibly can and his laptop is sitting innocently between them. Yifan can’t see all that much from where he’s standing, but it’s not hard to miss Luhan’s erratic breathing and the quick moves of his hand...and what’s that buzzing he’s hearing? Oh, god, is that a --

 

“You like it when I torture little Jongin, don’t you, Lu?” Another voice says, a voice that sounds strangely like Sehun’s and Yifan should really leave, like, right now, because this is so, so wrong. Interfering with your bandmate’s and possibly even friend’s (Luhan isn’t Yifan’s friend because he is evil and deserves no friends, but on the other hand he has nothing against Sehun and Jongin, quite the opposite, actually) video--session is not cool, but the way Sehun speaks in his broken Mandarin is too hot to miss out on.

 

He’ll just stay for a second, Yifan decides, just a second longer and he'll leave and come back later.

 

“I do,” Luhan moans. “But I like it more when you’re torturing me. When you make me beg,” He gasps, leaning forward slightly. “Make him beg, Daddy.”

 

“You heard Luhan, Jongin,” Shame, Yifan thinks, that he can't see the laptop’s screen. But by the noises, the little broken whimpers and high pitched moans, it isn’t hard to guess that on the other end Sehun is balls deep in Jongin and is refusing to move unless the older beggs for it. It’s okay, though, Yifan doesn’t judge that, because if it was him in Sehun’s place he’d probably make Jongin beg for his , too. It’s an honor to have Yifan’s in you, so naturally, you have to beg for it.

 

But wait, did Luhan call Sehun Daddy--

 

There’s a slapping noise, sudden and sharp. “Oh, my god,” Oh, my god indeed, Yifan thinks, leaning against the wall. “Is that Yifan?” Wait, what?

 

Luhan turns to Yifan fast and sharp, locking eyes with him. Awkward.

 

The older boy (man? Luhan is no man) smirks. “You face is green, I see.”

 

“And I can see you , or the lack of one, so shut up.” Yifan snaps, forgetting for a moment why he even came here. Not that the video chat distracted him or anything. “It was you, wasn’t it?” The grin on Luhan’s face speaks in volumes. Surprisingly, Yifan lets out a sigh of happiness.

 

“Great,” He smiles, or tries to, anyway. “Finish up your...uh...that,” He motions to the general direction of the bed. “Then go to the kitchen. We’re having a meeting in 30 minutes.” Yifan doesn’t wait for an answer.

 

He finds himself returning to the bathroom, shoulders slumped and lips pulled down in a frown. Jongin and Sehun are both y, especially when and his is hard. Judgment is unnecessary and unneeded.

 

--

 

“That,” Yifan points at the display window of The Body Shop where Nutriganics™ Drops Of Youth sits innocently in a corner, shining and in all its glory. It’s beautiful. “I definitely want that.” He repeats, nodding. Turning around, he looks at Yixing. “Pleasure’s all yours.”

 

The dancer grumbles under his breath about how this isn’t fair at all and that they have the crappiest leader ever. Yifan begs to differ, because they have the best leader and Yixing’s just overreacting (like he always is).

 

“You know,” Luhan starts, trying to adjust the too many bags of clothing, shoes and different kinds of skin care products he’s holding. “I think I would have preffered it if you just sent us to a hotel again. This is pure torture.”

 

Yifan just shrugs. “Maybe now you and Yixing won’t touch my stuff again,” He says. “Since you bought them with your own money this time. Payback’s a , isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow, lips twitching up in a smirk.

 

Yixing comes out just as Luhan is about to throw all the bags in the fountain next to him, and he hisses at him. “Do that and I swear I’ll tell Baekhyun who’ll tell everyone.” And Yifan doesn’t even care what Yixing means by that because he’s enjoying himself too much.

 

Today is a good day. A very good, refreshing and nerve-free day. Yifan just loves being the leader.

 

--

 

“Sehun came to me today,” Junmyeon beams. They’re having a video chat on LINE between schedules because there’s nothing better to do other than that, not when they’re both so exhausted and worn out. “He hugged me tightly and said: I’m glad you’re K’s leader.” Junmyeon looks so happy as he says that, eyes shining, but all Yifan can do is snort in amusement.

 

 

 

 

 

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a/n: that's it. i'm so, so sorry. thank you for reading and for making it to the end.

 

someone should really ban be from writing.