shall i grant it all?
Title: Shall I Grant It All?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Everyone/Lay, Baekhyun/Lay
Word Count: 4,500
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and the characters are not mine.
Summary: In which the members discover that Yixing’s dimple grants wishes, and now he has to give each of them one.
Of course, it’s Baekhyun who blows his secret.
They’re coming back from dinner. He’s hanging off of Yixing’s back, as usual, he’s had a little too much to drink, and he’s mumbling something about, “Why do you always look so good hyung? I bet it’s your hair.” He pitches forward on unsteady legs, and Yixing nearly stumbles with his weight. And then he reaches up, and clumsily pokes Yixing’s dimple. “I wish I had your hair.”
Bam.
In an instant, Baekhyun’s hair darkens to black, and shrinks at the bottom to match Yixing’s undercut. Jongdae witnesses its transformation and starts shrieking. Baekhyun catches on and starts to shriek as well, something along the lines of, “I wasn’t serious, I wasn’t serious, change it back!”
Yixing rolls his eyes, hard. He glares at them both until they quiet, slings Baekhyun’s arm around his shoulder again, and continues the journey back home with eight pairs of eyes trained uncomfortably on him.
--
“Yixing’s dimple grants wishes,” Sehun says, stunned, which is in itself a feat.
Yixing scowls. “It’s not supposed to be used for hairstyling.”
“What is it supposed to be used for?” Minseok asks, sounding genuinely curious. Yixing relaxes minutely; he’s always been extra cautious to hide this ability of his, wary of what people might want from him when they find out, but his members seem more impressed than anything.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But definitely not hairstyling.”
Junmyeon massages his temple. “Can you use it for hairstyling again, just this once? Change Baekhyun’s hair back to what it was? The stylist noonas will throw a fit otherwise.”
“Fine,” he huffs, stabbing his cheek with his finger, “I wish Baekhyun’s hair returns to normal.”
It does, shifting to brown and elongating in a spectacularly flamboyant fashion. A chorus of oohs goes around. Jongdae petitions God. Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun and examines his hair with his mouth agape, muttering faintly about magic. The rest stare at Yixing.
He sighs. “I try to be fair. So since Baekhyun got a wish, you all get one too.” There’s a whoop of excitement, and even Kyungsoo looks interested. “But there are rules.”
“I can work with that,” Sehun chimes in. “Name them.”
“One, no wishing for things like superpowers. Wish for something reasonable-yes, Chanyeol, I’m looking at you.”
Jongin snorts with laughter at Chanyeol’s dejected face. “No magic either, hyung.”
“Two, no wishing for things that would give you an unfair advantage.”
“What do you mean?”
Yixing hesitates, unsure of how best to word this. “You can’t ask to be a better… swimmer, for example. You can only do that through practice, not this. Or you can’t ask to grow five inches in height, or add five pounds in muscle. That kinda thing.”
Yixing sees them mull it over. Good, they’re taking this seriously. Or about as seriously as they can at this point. Chanyeol’s still clutching Baekhyun’s head, lifting locks of hair up to the light to check their colour. Baekhyun looks too dazed to protest Chanyeol’s manhandling.
“Three, your wish shouldn’t impact or influence another person. Not in a big way, at least. Like, you can’t make someone fall in love with you obviously.”
“What a shame,” Jongdae says, waggling his eyebrows at Baekhyun.
Baekhyun mimes strangling Jongdae’s neck with his hands.
“Uh,” Yixing says, nonplussed, “does that sound fair?”
“Sounds fair,” Junmyeon agrees, and the rest of the members nod, some more enthusiastically than others.
Yixing’s half interested, half terrified of what they might throw at him. “Then have at me guys.”
--
Minseok’s one is easy.
“Are you sure,” Yixing says dubiously. “That’s it?”
“Positive.”
“Which model do you want?”
“Oh, I didn’t think about that.”
Yixing has to smile; Minseok probably hadn’t wanted to be a bother. “Come on, if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right.” Yixing grabs his laptop, and pulls up the website. “Oh my. These are fancy.”
Minseok wrinkles his nose. “And pricey.”
“Well it’s a good thing that’s not an issue here. Pick one.”
Minseok squeezes into the chair beside him. “I may or may not be an indecisive person,” he says, but he sounds eager, pleased.
The next morning, the members wake up to a lustrous, new coffee machine, complete with a milk frother, and a few other parts that none of them know how to operate, humming and ready to go, looking as if it had come straight out of George Clooney’s advertisements. Kyungsoo staggers to the machine and drops to his knees in front of it, reverent. Jongdae power walks to the kitchen and beats a sleep-addled Junmyeon to the line.
When Yixing finally stumbles in, he feels steady hands around his waist, guiding him to the counter. It is a nice way to start the day, surrounded by the smell of fresh coffee and soft chatter. Minseok’s eyes are bright and alert. “Sit down,” he says. “Hyung will make you a cup.”
--
It’s been awhile since they’ve done this, and he’s missed it, terribly. But having conflicting schedules means that he and Jongin barely have time to practice their choreography together, let alone dance for fun. Yixing’s grinning, euphoric, despite his aching muscles protesting.
Jongin’s sprawled out like a starfish on the studio floor, hair matted with sweat. “We went for it, huh?”
“Sure did,” Yixing groans, his knees creaking as he gets up to grab his bottle.
“You okay, hyung?”
“Just sore, it’s all good.” Actually, he’ll probably hurt tomorrow, but Jongin doesn’t need to know.
There’s a pause, and then, “I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“Is wishing for no injuries for all of us breaking a rule?”
Yixing’s back is turned to him, so Jongin doesn’t see his grimace. “Yeah. That’s an unfair advantage.”
“I see.”
Yixing sighs, settling next to Jongin. “Sorry. I didn’t want to have to turn you down.”
Jongin’s shaking his head. “No, I expected that,” he says, sounding fond-proud, even. “It’s just like you.”
Yixing tilts his head in question. “What do you mean?”
“I know… all those times you were injured, you just bore it. You never wished yourself better. Even back when we were trainees and you nearly broke your back dancing. You could’ve put yourself in a much better position than the rest of us, but you never did.”
“It’s crossed my mind,” Yixing says, small. It feels good to admit that to someone. “But it would’ve been wrong. Even if I achieved everything, if I did it through this,” he points at his cheek, “it would’ve been wrong. I didn’t want that.”
Jongin smiles. “I know that. I know you.”
He says it so earnest and confident that Yixing flushes. He’s wondered on occasion what the others think now that they’ve discovered this. Did they assume he’s had it easy? It made him feel sick.
“You know,” Jongin sits up, as if he heard him, “don’t think for one second that we doubt you. Everything you’ve done, we know you’ve done through hard work.”
Little Jongin, assuaging a fear he’s never once disclosed; it makes his eyes sting. “Thank you,” he mumbles.
“Ah, hyung.” Jongin curls an arm around him and pulls him closer, letting Yixing’s head fall on his shoulder. He massages Yixing’s bicep, all gentle and comforting. “You shouldn’t worry. Not with us.”
“Yeah. I got it.”
Jongin hums, satisfied. “Good.”
“You still have your wish.”
“I haven’t had time to go Christmas shopping. Not even for my babies.” Trust Jongin to refer to his dogs as such. “Could I wish for three new collars for them?”
“Please. I can tailor them to your every liking-colour, material, you name it. I can even get them to say, Kim Jongin is the best owner ever.”
Jongin laughs, delighted. “That’s exactly what they should say.”
--
“No.”
“Why not,” Chanyeol whines.
Yixing just stares at him.
“Please?” He gives Yixing his most potent hopeful look.
“I can’t believe you would use that against me.”
“But I really, really wanna be Beyoncé’s friend.”
“Oh my god,” Yixing groans. “What if she doesn’t want to be yours? You’re breaking all three rules!”
“Are you sure?” Chanyeol pouts, trying very much to look forlorn, but Yixing sees the beginnings of a grin appearing on his face.
“Pretty sure, Chanyeolie. But you know that already, don’t you?”
Chanyeol laughs, loud and amused, draping himself over Yixing. “Yeah. Just thought I’d try my luck. At least I didn’t wish for my MAMA power.”
Thank heavens for small mercies. He nudges Chanyeol’s side. “So? What was it you actually wanted?”
“Could I get a Flying V?”
“I… really should’ve seen that coming.”
“Actually, make that two Flying Vs.”
“Two? What are you going to do with two?”
“You’ll see,” Chanyeol nods sagely, and Yixing maybe wants to throttle him. “Make one red, and one purple.”
Yixing sighs, rubbing his dimple. Two Gibson Flying V electric guitars appear in the room. They look impressive. Sleek and shiny. Yixing’s glad he went for a high gloss finish. Chanyeol claps wildly, beside himself in glee.
“Hyung is the best!” he gushes, grabbing the red one. “I feel like my cool factor just tripled. Go on, give yours a go.”
“What?”
“Purple one’s for you. You didn’t think I wanted both for myself, did you?”
Yixing blinks, flabbergasted, because yes, he actually did think that. He reaches for the other guitar dumbly. “Chanyeol-ah,” is all he manages, fingers hovering above the fret uncertainly.
“Try it.”
Yixing does, strumming a chord experimentally. It resonates round and full, with a slightly brighter timbre than the guitar he currently uses. It’s gorgeous.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, I-of course.”
Chanyeol smiles, his cheeks faintly pink. “I noticed that even with this thing of yours, you don’t treat yourself much, hyung.”
He thinks of explaining how he doesn’t like the idea of frivolously wishing any item he wants into existence, because then working for it or having the means to afford it or even receiving a gift would lose all meaning, but Chanyeol is looking at him knowingly. “Thank you,” Yixing says instead, touched, “that’s very thoughtful of you.”
Chanyeol’s laugh is sheepish this time. “I mean, you kinda got it for the both of us, so it’s not that big of a deal-”
“You spoil your hyung.” Yixing reaches over and plants a kiss on Chanyeol’s cheek, beaming when the raspberry flush spreads to his ears. “Now play us something.”
--
Junmyeon’s far too polite. Yixing knows that if he doesn’t pressure Junmyeon into divulging his wish, he’d let Yixing off the hook and eventually forget about it. So Yixing corners him in the living room when it’s just the two of them, and demands he wishes for something in the name of fairness.
“The others all get one. You have to get one too.”
“Oh,” Junmyeon says helplessly. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything worth wasting your time for.”
“It’s not wasted if it’s for you.”
“Oh,” Junmyeon says again, sounding touched. “That’s sweet of you Yixing.”
Yixing smiles. “Not as sweet as you.”
“Stop flirting,” Junmyeon admonishes, swatting at him. “Save it for Baekhyun.”
“Baekhyun?”
“Never mind. I don’t suppose I can wish to become a better leader?”
“Junmyeon!” Yixing frowns. “You’re already the best leader there is. We couldn’t possibly ask for better.” He hugs Junmyeon to him, feels warmth bubble in his chest when he hears Junmyeon laugh sheepishly.
“Well, can I wish for a great year ahead for us?”
“It’s going to be a great year ahead for us,” Yixing says resolutely. “With or without the wishing.”
Junmyeon laughs again, winding his arms around Yixing’s waist and clutching tightly. There’s something in his grip, relief maybe, and Yixing’s reminded that they all need reassurance from time to time. That there’s still so much more to see, to do, to reach for.
“Can I wish for a wider vocal range?”
“You already have the mellowest, loveliest voice, even I’m jealous.”
“Stop, stop it,” Junmyeon collapses against him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “You’re the worst.”
Yixing grins, giddy upon seeing Junmyeon so tickled. If it were within the rules, he’d withhold nothing, really, from this man.
“I have it. It’s a good one, I promise. And one that I’m pretty sure you can grant.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“The living room’s looking pretty sad. And it shouldn’t, especially at this time of the year. Can I get a Christmas tree?”
Yixing gives him a look, then lets out a bark of laughter when he realizes Junmyeon’s being serious. Honestly, only their leader. “Real or fake?”
“Fake. But with the smell of fresh pine.”
“Star or angel at the top?”
Junmyeon makes a derisive sound. “Star, obviously.”
“Decorations?”
“Multi-coloured. And add as many lights as you possibly can.”
“One unbelievably gaudy looking tree coming right up.”
--
“Surprise me,” is Jongdae’s request.
They’re in the kitchen, making dinner for the others. Yixing frowns at the carrot he’s in the midst of cutting. “You can’t do that. You’re wasting your wish.” Actually, that seems to be the trend with them. It’s frustrating, but at the same time, it reminds Yixing of the many reasons why he loves his members. They could wish for an island situated in the middle of nowhere with a private yacht but they go for coffee and Christmas lights instead.
“It doesn’t have to be expensive or big or anything. Just something you think I’ll like.”
“But.” Yixing slices his carrot hesitantly, carefully measure his next cube, slices again. “What if you don’t?”
“I will.”
“How can you be sure?” Yixing whines.
“Because it’s a gift from you.” Yixing whips his gaze away from the chopping board to stare at him. Jongdae’s peering in the pot, nonchalant.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I said. It’s a gift from you, hyung. Of course I’d like it.”
Yixing falters. “Can’t you give me a clue? I don’t want to…” Disappoint you, he means to say, but Jongdae sidles up close to him, a reassuring line pressed against his side. The smile playing on his lips is fond.
“Don’t overthink this,” he tells Yixing, amused. “I’m simply wishing for a gift from you.”
Yixing nods, returns to his chopping.
The next day, Jongdae finds his bed covered in what has to be at least fifty different sized, colourfully wrapped parcels. Baekhyun huffs and complains about favouritism. Jongdae looks smug for a minute, then apprehensive at the thought of what they might be. Yixing feels oddly nervous.
“Sex toys,” Chanyeol decides, eyeing the oddly shaped parcels. Sehun snorts, but doesn’t disagree. “Fifty kinds of sex toys.”
Jongdae warily reaches for the one closest next to him, and peels off the wrapper. Something round and bright yellow peaks out. Yixing grins at Jongdae’s delighted gasp. “There’s more,” he gestures to the rest of the packages. “Open them.”
“Gudetama doll,” Chanyeol lists with growing wonder, “Gudetama keychain, Gudetama T-shirt, Gudetama watch, Gudetama doll number two...”
“Very creative,” Baekhyun observes.
“… Gudetama mug, Gudetama socks, Gudetama tent and sleeping bag?”
“For when Jongdae ever goes camping,” Sehun says dryly. “Of course.”
“I love them,” Jongdae declares, eyes crinkled happily. He launches himself at Yixing, crushing him in a bear-hug. The anxious tickling in Yixing’s chest settles into something warm and comfortable. “Hyung knows me best.”
--
There’s a knock on his door, and Sehun pokes his head in. “Hi, hyung.”
“Hi,” he returns easily, but something seems off. Yixing pats the space beside him on the bed. “Come here.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Sehun begins, playing with the fabric of the comforter. There’re lines drawn on his face, anxious and pinched. Yixing recalls a time when Sehun came to him nightly, looking like this, holding on to him so tightly as if Yixing would disappear otherwise. Yixing feels his heart sink. “Can we wish them back?”
“Baby,” Yixing says, strained. “I’m sorry.”
“I know it breaks your rules.”
“Yes.”
“But. It’s them.”
Yixing’s silent for a moment. Then, “Do you know why I made these rules?”
Sehun shakes his head, no.
“Without them, it’d be so very easy to bend the world to my design. To bend people to my will.” Yixing stops, and thinks about the instances he’s been tempted to do so. Out of anger, fear, loneliness or heartache. He wonders if he’ll succumb one day, and he wonders what that says of him. “I’ve thought about doing what you’re asking. Many times. I miss them so much it hurts to breathe sometimes. But I have no right, you understand?”
Sehun sighs, watery. His face is resigned. Yixing knows he was expecting this answer, but it doesn’t make turning him down any easier. He wraps both arms around the younger. Something wet slips down his cheeks, and he curses the burden of his ability. “I’m sorry,” Yixing whispers, the guilt like glass shards in his throat. “I’m sorry I can’t.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Sehun twists in his embrace, trying to wipe away Yixing’s tears. “Sorry for asking. Don’t cry, hyung.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Okay,” Sehun says, burying his face into Yixing’s shoulder. It feels wet. “Don’t cry.”
Yixing absently rubs his dimple, and wishes that nobody disturbs them for a while. They stay like that, Yixing running his hand through Sehun’s hair, until Sehun clears his throat and meets his eyes, trying to be brave.
“Your wish?” Yixing asks.
“I want them to be surrounded by warmth and love this Christmas. Is that allowed?”
“Of course.”
Sehun nods, satisfied. “Thanks, hyung.” Yixing watches as he pads softly out of the room, feeling nothing but protectiveness and affection for a heart so tender.
Later, in the wee hours of the morning, Yixing finds his phone. Do you have any wishes this Christmas?
Tao’s reply is quick. I want new boots. And for all of us to be happy!
His phone beeps again fifteen minutes later. You should be sleeping, Yifan tells him. Go to sleep Yixing. And then, Good health.
Luhan’s answer comes in the morning. How about dinner together sometime, you miserable excuse for a didi.
Yixing smiles. It’s something he can grant.
--
If he’s willing to admit, Yixing’s nervous about Kyungsoo. He imagines it might be the most complicated wish yet, since Kyungsoo always considers things so carefully. And after what happened with Sehun, Yixing doesn’t think he can handle rejecting another one.
Kyungsoo finds him in the living room, and Yixing’s pulse thuds staccato fast. Anticipation weighs heavily on his brow. Kyungsoo looks at him, concerned.
“Are you alright, hyung?”
He plasters on a smile. “Yeah.”
Kyungsoo frowns, ever observant. “Are you sure?”
He must look a mess. Yixing mentally berates himself for fretting over an unfounded fear. “I’m fine. Just… have you given any thought to your wish?”
“Oh,” Kyungsoo taps his chin thoughtfully, and then he smiles. “Were you worried about that?”
“No,” he says, a little defensively. And then, because Kyungsoo’s glance is knowing, “Maybe.”
“Honestly, hyung.” Kyungsoo joins him on the couch. He leans into Yixing, who unthinkingly wriggles closer. “If you can’t grant a wish, don’t.”
“I want to,” Yixing says stubbornly. “I want to, for you guys.”
“You already do so much.”
“I can do more,” he insists. He feels selfish, having this ridiculous ability and keeping it to himself. Perhaps he should have let the others in on it sooner.
Kyungsoo’s hand finds his knee, his touch kind but firm. “You don’t owe us anything,” he says gently. “Maybe that,” he points to Yixing’s dimple, “was simply meant to sit on your face and look pretty. Nothing more.”
The corner of his lip turns up. “Pretty, hm?”
“Just ask Baekhyun.”
“Baekhyun?” The others have been mentioning him a lot recently.
Kyungsoo shakes his head, exasperated. “About my wish.”
Yixing blinks at the change of subject.
“I’m going for lunch with my mother tomorrow. It’d be nice if the restaurant wasn’t too crowded. Also, could you make it sunny out please?”
“Are you going easy on me? Is this your original wish? Because if it isn’t, and you changed it because I was stressing just now-”
“It is,” Kyungsoo interrupts, laughing. “I promise.”
He’s still suspicious, but Kyungsoo meets his gaze earnestly, and Yixing decides to believe him. “What’s the name of the place? How are you getting there tomorrow?”
Kyungsoo tilts his head at him, confused, but tells him anyway. Yixing slips out of the dorm later, wandering the route. He keeps his finger on his cheek along the way, wishing for the roads to be nice and clear. When he gets to the restaurant, he peers in and wishes that Kyungsoo would get that lovely, cozy table in the corner, and for the food to be exceptionally good.
The sun shines brighter the next morning, and Kyungsoo leaves only after engulfing him in a grateful hug. Yixing allows himself to be dragged out by Chanyeol and Jongin to play, as his dongsaengs put it, his mind settled and calm.
One more to go.
--
The dorm’s unusually quiet. Yixing wanders around the rooms, curious. Perhaps they went out; he doesn’t remember there being anything on their schedule today.
“Hey,” and Yixing jumps, dropping his bag in the hallway.
“You scared me, Baekhyun,” he chides. He lifts his arms in greeting but Baekhyun doesn’t envelop him with a hug as he usually does. Yixing lets his arms fall, hesitant. “Something wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
The wish, then. It always starts with them thinking. Yixing smiles encouragingly. “Go ahead.”
“I’m not sure if it’s something you would want to grant.”
“I would, if it’s within the rules-”
“It’s not.”
Yixing nods slowly. “I see.”
“It breaks your third one. The influencing people bit.”
“Well, do you need more time to think about it? There’s no hurry.”
“No,” Baekhyun interjects hastily. “I’ve done all the thinking I need. This is something I want. Will you hear me out, hyung?”
“Of course,” Yixing says, slightly bewildered. They’re still standing awkwardly in the hallway, in the middle of nowhere, but Baekhyun shows no intention of moving. He looks nervous, stressed out. “Hey,” Yixing tries gently, hoping to soothe, “I’m listening, Baekhyun-ah.”
“There’s this guy.” Baekhyun sighs, meets his gaze unsteadily. “He’s a bit of an idiot.”
Yixing frowns. “That’s not very nice.”
Baekhyun huffs. “I’m not done yet. He’s a bit of an idiot, but I’m hopelessly crazy about him. And I’m sure I’m pretty obvious about it, and everyone else seems to know, but this guy’s a bit of an idiot.”
“Ah,” is all Yixing can say.
“So, upon Jongdae’s advice, which frankly I’m not sure why I’m heeding, I’m going to be so blatantly upfront about it that this guy will finally, have to get the hint.”
Yixing nods, unsure of what else to do. He tracks Baekhyun with his eyes, watches him fidget, take a deep breath, and then say, “I wish you would let me kiss you.”
Yixing opens his mouth, then shuts it with a click.
“I’m kinda hoping you don’t actually need to rub your magic dimple for this wish?” Baekhyun blurts out, embarrassedly. “But if you do, then fine, I get it, I’ll just content myself with one kiss and… be completely heartbroken over Christmas, I guess.”
Yixing’s still staring.
“Not that I’m emotionally blackmailing you or anything,” Baekhyun adds frantically. “Just. Oh my god. Bury me alive already, I actually have to spell it out for you. Hyung, I like you, okay? Is this wish something you can grant?”
Will you let me kiss you, Yixing finally hears, and will you kiss me back. Yixing silently curses his exceptionally slow buffering capacity. Baekhyun’s been trying to tell him since… a long time ago. Looks of longing, broken only when Yixing returns his gaze quizzically. Lingering touches that felt slightly possessive at times, especially when Yixing plays around with the other members too much. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy them. Baekhyun’s so much to him, always there with a hand in the small of his back, guiding him to the van after an exhausting performance, always there with a word of encouragement and an attempt to make him laugh, always there when the doubt and insecurity in his mind roars a little too loudly. Yixing revels in Baekhyun’s company; his steps are always lighter, his shoulders held higher. He’d just been a little too comfortable, never thinking to question why.
“No,” he answers, and Baekhyun’s face crumples. But he moves forward, crowds right up into Baekhyun’s space. “Because the rules are rules. But you should go ahead and kiss me anyway.”
Baekhyun’s gaze snaps back to him. “What?”
Yixing grins. “I actually have to spell it out for you? I’m saying you don’t need a wish to kiss me, Baekhyun-ah.”
Yixing waits, because Baekhyun takes a moment to register that he’s been given explicit permission. Then cautiously, he leans forward and fits their mouths together.
It’s brief at first, but pleasant, Baekhyun jerking back to gauge Yixing’s reaction.
Yixing licks his lips.
Gaining confidence, Baekhyn tugs Yixing closer, leaving barely an inch between them. He curls a hand hungrily around Yixing’s neck, and kisses him generously, warmly, indulgently; exactly how he treats Yixing all the time. Yixing can’t help but melt into it, giddy and breathless.
“Okay?”
“Definitely okay,” Yixing rasps out. His legs feel unsteady; it’s a good excuse to clutch at Baekhyun harder.
Baekhyun beams, and it’s brighter than the sun framed in a cloudless sky. He launches forward and attacks Yixing’s mouth once more, gunning it a little dirty to pull a startled, needy sound from him. And then he smirks, victorious, and proceeds to pepper Yixing’s neck with kisses.
“Stop,” Yixing yelps, squirming in his grasp. “This idiot gets it now.”
Baekhyun takes mercy on him, and pulls away with a lingering kiss on his jaw. “I’m happy, hyung. Really happy.”
“Good.” It was all he wanted, to make them happy with the wishes he gave out. This feels even better, this wave of affection and satisfaction cresting within him. “I’m happy too.”
Baekhyun tips his head in the direction of Yixing’s bedroom. They crabwalk all the way there, unwilling to let go of each other, and then tumble onto Yixing’s bed. And then it’s something they’ve done plenty of times before: Yixing lifts an arm, Baekhyun shifts to his side, and they slot against each other perfectly. Yixing wonders how he never noticed.
There’s a noise from outside.
“That’ll be the rest, back from dinner. I shooed them away for this.”
“Very thoughtful,” Yixing teases.
“I didn’t want them to witness my possible breakdown. You know, just in case you refused.”
“I don’t think I could,” Yixing says, and Baekhyun looks at him carefully. “It’s… a little terrifying, but I don’t think I could refuse you.”
“Sap,” Baekhyun says, but a lovely flush makes its way across his cheeks. “You’re the biggest sap, ever.”
“Says the guy who wished for a kiss-oh. That’s right, you still have your wish.”
Baekhyun hums, thinking. Yixing snuggles closer, unbearably content. The members’ voices grow louder. He can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas, surrounded by them all.
“Nah,” Baekhyun says eventually. “I don’t need it.”
----
“To grant all a man's wishes is to take away his dreams and ambitions.
Life is only worth living if you have something to strive for. To aim at.”
- P.B. Kerr
1. For all you lovelies out there, merry Christmas. ♥ I hope you enjoyed.
2. Jongdae's wish was based on which Japanese celebrity he wanted to meet lol.
3. Yixing has a magic dimple, just ask Baekhyun.
4. Also on AO3.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Everyone/Lay, Baekhyun/Lay
Word Count: 4,500
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and the characters are not mine.
Summary: In which the members discover that Yixing’s dimple grants wishes, and now he has to give each of them one.
Of course, it’s Baekhyun who blows his secret.
They’re coming back from dinner. He’s hanging off of Yixing’s back, as usual, he’s had a little too much to drink, and he’s mumbling something about, “Why do you always look so good hyung? I bet it’s your hair.” He pitches forward on unsteady legs, and Yixing nearly stumbles with his weight. And then he reaches up, and clumsily pokes Yixing’s dimple. “I wish I had your hair.”
Bam.
In an instant, Baekhyun’s hair darkens to black, and shrinks at the bottom to match Yixing’s undercut. Jongdae witnesses its transformation and starts shrieking. Baekhyun catches on and starts to shriek as well, something along the lines of, “I wasn’t serious, I wasn’t serious, change it back!”
Yixing rolls his eyes, hard. He glares at them both until they quiet, slings Baekhyun’s arm around his shoulder again, and continues the journey back home with eight pairs of eyes trained uncomfortably on him.
--
“Yixing’s dimple grants wishes,” Sehun says, stunned, which is in itself a feat.
Yixing scowls. “It’s not supposed to be used for hairstyling.”
“What is it supposed to be used for?” Minseok asks, sounding genuinely curious. Yixing relaxes minutely; he’s always been extra cautious to hide this ability of his, wary of what people might want from him when they find out, but his members seem more impressed than anything.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But definitely not hairstyling.”
Junmyeon massages his temple. “Can you use it for hairstyling again, just this once? Change Baekhyun’s hair back to what it was? The stylist noonas will throw a fit otherwise.”
“Fine,” he huffs, stabbing his cheek with his finger, “I wish Baekhyun’s hair returns to normal.”
It does, shifting to brown and elongating in a spectacularly flamboyant fashion. A chorus of oohs goes around. Jongdae petitions God. Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun and examines his hair with his mouth agape, muttering faintly about magic. The rest stare at Yixing.
He sighs. “I try to be fair. So since Baekhyun got a wish, you all get one too.” There’s a whoop of excitement, and even Kyungsoo looks interested. “But there are rules.”
“I can work with that,” Sehun chimes in. “Name them.”
“One, no wishing for things like superpowers. Wish for something reasonable-yes, Chanyeol, I’m looking at you.”
Jongin snorts with laughter at Chanyeol’s dejected face. “No magic either, hyung.”
“Two, no wishing for things that would give you an unfair advantage.”
“What do you mean?”
Yixing hesitates, unsure of how best to word this. “You can’t ask to be a better… swimmer, for example. You can only do that through practice, not this. Or you can’t ask to grow five inches in height, or add five pounds in muscle. That kinda thing.”
Yixing sees them mull it over. Good, they’re taking this seriously. Or about as seriously as they can at this point. Chanyeol’s still clutching Baekhyun’s head, lifting locks of hair up to the light to check their colour. Baekhyun looks too dazed to protest Chanyeol’s manhandling.
“Three, your wish shouldn’t impact or influence another person. Not in a big way, at least. Like, you can’t make someone fall in love with you obviously.”
“What a shame,” Jongdae says, waggling his eyebrows at Baekhyun.
Baekhyun mimes strangling Jongdae’s neck with his hands.
“Uh,” Yixing says, nonplussed, “does that sound fair?”
“Sounds fair,” Junmyeon agrees, and the rest of the members nod, some more enthusiastically than others.
Yixing’s half interested, half terrified of what they might throw at him. “Then have at me guys.”
--
Minseok’s one is easy.
“Are you sure,” Yixing says dubiously. “That’s it?”
“Positive.”
“Which model do you want?”
“Oh, I didn’t think about that.”
Yixing has to smile; Minseok probably hadn’t wanted to be a bother. “Come on, if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right.” Yixing grabs his laptop, and pulls up the website. “Oh my. These are fancy.”
Minseok wrinkles his nose. “And pricey.”
“Well it’s a good thing that’s not an issue here. Pick one.”
Minseok squeezes into the chair beside him. “I may or may not be an indecisive person,” he says, but he sounds eager, pleased.
The next morning, the members wake up to a lustrous, new coffee machine, complete with a milk frother, and a few other parts that none of them know how to operate, humming and ready to go, looking as if it had come straight out of George Clooney’s advertisements. Kyungsoo staggers to the machine and drops to his knees in front of it, reverent. Jongdae power walks to the kitchen and beats a sleep-addled Junmyeon to the line.
When Yixing finally stumbles in, he feels steady hands around his waist, guiding him to the counter. It is a nice way to start the day, surrounded by the smell of fresh coffee and soft chatter. Minseok’s eyes are bright and alert. “Sit down,” he says. “Hyung will make you a cup.”
--
It’s been awhile since they’ve done this, and he’s missed it, terribly. But having conflicting schedules means that he and Jongin barely have time to practice their choreography together, let alone dance for fun. Yixing’s grinning, euphoric, despite his aching muscles protesting.
Jongin’s sprawled out like a starfish on the studio floor, hair matted with sweat. “We went for it, huh?”
“Sure did,” Yixing groans, his knees creaking as he gets up to grab his bottle.
“You okay, hyung?”
“Just sore, it’s all good.” Actually, he’ll probably hurt tomorrow, but Jongin doesn’t need to know.
There’s a pause, and then, “I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“Is wishing for no injuries for all of us breaking a rule?”
Yixing’s back is turned to him, so Jongin doesn’t see his grimace. “Yeah. That’s an unfair advantage.”
“I see.”
Yixing sighs, settling next to Jongin. “Sorry. I didn’t want to have to turn you down.”
Jongin’s shaking his head. “No, I expected that,” he says, sounding fond-proud, even. “It’s just like you.”
Yixing tilts his head in question. “What do you mean?”
“I know… all those times you were injured, you just bore it. You never wished yourself better. Even back when we were trainees and you nearly broke your back dancing. You could’ve put yourself in a much better position than the rest of us, but you never did.”
“It’s crossed my mind,” Yixing says, small. It feels good to admit that to someone. “But it would’ve been wrong. Even if I achieved everything, if I did it through this,” he points at his cheek, “it would’ve been wrong. I didn’t want that.”
Jongin smiles. “I know that. I know you.”
He says it so earnest and confident that Yixing flushes. He’s wondered on occasion what the others think now that they’ve discovered this. Did they assume he’s had it easy? It made him feel sick.
“You know,” Jongin sits up, as if he heard him, “don’t think for one second that we doubt you. Everything you’ve done, we know you’ve done through hard work.”
Little Jongin, assuaging a fear he’s never once disclosed; it makes his eyes sting. “Thank you,” he mumbles.
“Ah, hyung.” Jongin curls an arm around him and pulls him closer, letting Yixing’s head fall on his shoulder. He massages Yixing’s bicep, all gentle and comforting. “You shouldn’t worry. Not with us.”
“Yeah. I got it.”
Jongin hums, satisfied. “Good.”
“You still have your wish.”
“I haven’t had time to go Christmas shopping. Not even for my babies.” Trust Jongin to refer to his dogs as such. “Could I wish for three new collars for them?”
“Please. I can tailor them to your every liking-colour, material, you name it. I can even get them to say, Kim Jongin is the best owner ever.”
Jongin laughs, delighted. “That’s exactly what they should say.”
--
“No.”
“Why not,” Chanyeol whines.
Yixing just stares at him.
“Please?” He gives Yixing his most potent hopeful look.
“I can’t believe you would use that against me.”
“But I really, really wanna be Beyoncé’s friend.”
“Oh my god,” Yixing groans. “What if she doesn’t want to be yours? You’re breaking all three rules!”
“Are you sure?” Chanyeol pouts, trying very much to look forlorn, but Yixing sees the beginnings of a grin appearing on his face.
“Pretty sure, Chanyeolie. But you know that already, don’t you?”
Chanyeol laughs, loud and amused, draping himself over Yixing. “Yeah. Just thought I’d try my luck. At least I didn’t wish for my MAMA power.”
Thank heavens for small mercies. He nudges Chanyeol’s side. “So? What was it you actually wanted?”
“Could I get a Flying V?”
“I… really should’ve seen that coming.”
“Actually, make that two Flying Vs.”
“Two? What are you going to do with two?”
“You’ll see,” Chanyeol nods sagely, and Yixing maybe wants to throttle him. “Make one red, and one purple.”
Yixing sighs, rubbing his dimple. Two Gibson Flying V electric guitars appear in the room. They look impressive. Sleek and shiny. Yixing’s glad he went for a high gloss finish. Chanyeol claps wildly, beside himself in glee.
“Hyung is the best!” he gushes, grabbing the red one. “I feel like my cool factor just tripled. Go on, give yours a go.”
“What?”
“Purple one’s for you. You didn’t think I wanted both for myself, did you?”
Yixing blinks, flabbergasted, because yes, he actually did think that. He reaches for the other guitar dumbly. “Chanyeol-ah,” is all he manages, fingers hovering above the fret uncertainly.
“Try it.”
Yixing does, strumming a chord experimentally. It resonates round and full, with a slightly brighter timbre than the guitar he currently uses. It’s gorgeous.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, I-of course.”
Chanyeol smiles, his cheeks faintly pink. “I noticed that even with this thing of yours, you don’t treat yourself much, hyung.”
He thinks of explaining how he doesn’t like the idea of frivolously wishing any item he wants into existence, because then working for it or having the means to afford it or even receiving a gift would lose all meaning, but Chanyeol is looking at him knowingly. “Thank you,” Yixing says instead, touched, “that’s very thoughtful of you.”
Chanyeol’s laugh is sheepish this time. “I mean, you kinda got it for the both of us, so it’s not that big of a deal-”
“You spoil your hyung.” Yixing reaches over and plants a kiss on Chanyeol’s cheek, beaming when the raspberry flush spreads to his ears. “Now play us something.”
--
Junmyeon’s far too polite. Yixing knows that if he doesn’t pressure Junmyeon into divulging his wish, he’d let Yixing off the hook and eventually forget about it. So Yixing corners him in the living room when it’s just the two of them, and demands he wishes for something in the name of fairness.
“The others all get one. You have to get one too.”
“Oh,” Junmyeon says helplessly. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything worth wasting your time for.”
“It’s not wasted if it’s for you.”
“Oh,” Junmyeon says again, sounding touched. “That’s sweet of you Yixing.”
Yixing smiles. “Not as sweet as you.”
“Stop flirting,” Junmyeon admonishes, swatting at him. “Save it for Baekhyun.”
“Baekhyun?”
“Never mind. I don’t suppose I can wish to become a better leader?”
“Junmyeon!” Yixing frowns. “You’re already the best leader there is. We couldn’t possibly ask for better.” He hugs Junmyeon to him, feels warmth bubble in his chest when he hears Junmyeon laugh sheepishly.
“Well, can I wish for a great year ahead for us?”
“It’s going to be a great year ahead for us,” Yixing says resolutely. “With or without the wishing.”
Junmyeon laughs again, winding his arms around Yixing’s waist and clutching tightly. There’s something in his grip, relief maybe, and Yixing’s reminded that they all need reassurance from time to time. That there’s still so much more to see, to do, to reach for.
“Can I wish for a wider vocal range?”
“You already have the mellowest, loveliest voice, even I’m jealous.”
“Stop, stop it,” Junmyeon collapses against him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “You’re the worst.”
Yixing grins, giddy upon seeing Junmyeon so tickled. If it were within the rules, he’d withhold nothing, really, from this man.
“I have it. It’s a good one, I promise. And one that I’m pretty sure you can grant.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“The living room’s looking pretty sad. And it shouldn’t, especially at this time of the year. Can I get a Christmas tree?”
Yixing gives him a look, then lets out a bark of laughter when he realizes Junmyeon’s being serious. Honestly, only their leader. “Real or fake?”
“Fake. But with the smell of fresh pine.”
“Star or angel at the top?”
Junmyeon makes a derisive sound. “Star, obviously.”
“Decorations?”
“Multi-coloured. And add as many lights as you possibly can.”
“One unbelievably gaudy looking tree coming right up.”
--
“Surprise me,” is Jongdae’s request.
They’re in the kitchen, making dinner for the others. Yixing frowns at the carrot he’s in the midst of cutting. “You can’t do that. You’re wasting your wish.” Actually, that seems to be the trend with them. It’s frustrating, but at the same time, it reminds Yixing of the many reasons why he loves his members. They could wish for an island situated in the middle of nowhere with a private yacht but they go for coffee and Christmas lights instead.
“It doesn’t have to be expensive or big or anything. Just something you think I’ll like.”
“But.” Yixing slices his carrot hesitantly, carefully measure his next cube, slices again. “What if you don’t?”
“I will.”
“How can you be sure?” Yixing whines.
“Because it’s a gift from you.” Yixing whips his gaze away from the chopping board to stare at him. Jongdae’s peering in the pot, nonchalant.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I said. It’s a gift from you, hyung. Of course I’d like it.”
Yixing falters. “Can’t you give me a clue? I don’t want to…” Disappoint you, he means to say, but Jongdae sidles up close to him, a reassuring line pressed against his side. The smile playing on his lips is fond.
“Don’t overthink this,” he tells Yixing, amused. “I’m simply wishing for a gift from you.”
Yixing nods, returns to his chopping.
The next day, Jongdae finds his bed covered in what has to be at least fifty different sized, colourfully wrapped parcels. Baekhyun huffs and complains about favouritism. Jongdae looks smug for a minute, then apprehensive at the thought of what they might be. Yixing feels oddly nervous.
“Sex toys,” Chanyeol decides, eyeing the oddly shaped parcels. Sehun snorts, but doesn’t disagree. “Fifty kinds of sex toys.”
Jongdae warily reaches for the one closest next to him, and peels off the wrapper. Something round and bright yellow peaks out. Yixing grins at Jongdae’s delighted gasp. “There’s more,” he gestures to the rest of the packages. “Open them.”
“Gudetama doll,” Chanyeol lists with growing wonder, “Gudetama keychain, Gudetama T-shirt, Gudetama watch, Gudetama doll number two...”
“Very creative,” Baekhyun observes.
“… Gudetama mug, Gudetama socks, Gudetama tent and sleeping bag?”
“For when Jongdae ever goes camping,” Sehun says dryly. “Of course.”
“I love them,” Jongdae declares, eyes crinkled happily. He launches himself at Yixing, crushing him in a bear-hug. The anxious tickling in Yixing’s chest settles into something warm and comfortable. “Hyung knows me best.”
--
There’s a knock on his door, and Sehun pokes his head in. “Hi, hyung.”
“Hi,” he returns easily, but something seems off. Yixing pats the space beside him on the bed. “Come here.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Sehun begins, playing with the fabric of the comforter. There’re lines drawn on his face, anxious and pinched. Yixing recalls a time when Sehun came to him nightly, looking like this, holding on to him so tightly as if Yixing would disappear otherwise. Yixing feels his heart sink. “Can we wish them back?”
“Baby,” Yixing says, strained. “I’m sorry.”
“I know it breaks your rules.”
“Yes.”
“But. It’s them.”
Yixing’s silent for a moment. Then, “Do you know why I made these rules?”
Sehun shakes his head, no.
“Without them, it’d be so very easy to bend the world to my design. To bend people to my will.” Yixing stops, and thinks about the instances he’s been tempted to do so. Out of anger, fear, loneliness or heartache. He wonders if he’ll succumb one day, and he wonders what that says of him. “I’ve thought about doing what you’re asking. Many times. I miss them so much it hurts to breathe sometimes. But I have no right, you understand?”
Sehun sighs, watery. His face is resigned. Yixing knows he was expecting this answer, but it doesn’t make turning him down any easier. He wraps both arms around the younger. Something wet slips down his cheeks, and he curses the burden of his ability. “I’m sorry,” Yixing whispers, the guilt like glass shards in his throat. “I’m sorry I can’t.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Sehun twists in his embrace, trying to wipe away Yixing’s tears. “Sorry for asking. Don’t cry, hyung.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Okay,” Sehun says, burying his face into Yixing’s shoulder. It feels wet. “Don’t cry.”
Yixing absently rubs his dimple, and wishes that nobody disturbs them for a while. They stay like that, Yixing running his hand through Sehun’s hair, until Sehun clears his throat and meets his eyes, trying to be brave.
“Your wish?” Yixing asks.
“I want them to be surrounded by warmth and love this Christmas. Is that allowed?”
“Of course.”
Sehun nods, satisfied. “Thanks, hyung.” Yixing watches as he pads softly out of the room, feeling nothing but protectiveness and affection for a heart so tender.
Later, in the wee hours of the morning, Yixing finds his phone. Do you have any wishes this Christmas?
Tao’s reply is quick. I want new boots. And for all of us to be happy!
His phone beeps again fifteen minutes later. You should be sleeping, Yifan tells him. Go to sleep Yixing. And then, Good health.
Luhan’s answer comes in the morning. How about dinner together sometime, you miserable excuse for a didi.
Yixing smiles. It’s something he can grant.
--
If he’s willing to admit, Yixing’s nervous about Kyungsoo. He imagines it might be the most complicated wish yet, since Kyungsoo always considers things so carefully. And after what happened with Sehun, Yixing doesn’t think he can handle rejecting another one.
Kyungsoo finds him in the living room, and Yixing’s pulse thuds staccato fast. Anticipation weighs heavily on his brow. Kyungsoo looks at him, concerned.
“Are you alright, hyung?”
He plasters on a smile. “Yeah.”
Kyungsoo frowns, ever observant. “Are you sure?”
He must look a mess. Yixing mentally berates himself for fretting over an unfounded fear. “I’m fine. Just… have you given any thought to your wish?”
“Oh,” Kyungsoo taps his chin thoughtfully, and then he smiles. “Were you worried about that?”
“No,” he says, a little defensively. And then, because Kyungsoo’s glance is knowing, “Maybe.”
“Honestly, hyung.” Kyungsoo joins him on the couch. He leans into Yixing, who unthinkingly wriggles closer. “If you can’t grant a wish, don’t.”
“I want to,” Yixing says stubbornly. “I want to, for you guys.”
“You already do so much.”
“I can do more,” he insists. He feels selfish, having this ridiculous ability and keeping it to himself. Perhaps he should have let the others in on it sooner.
Kyungsoo’s hand finds his knee, his touch kind but firm. “You don’t owe us anything,” he says gently. “Maybe that,” he points to Yixing’s dimple, “was simply meant to sit on your face and look pretty. Nothing more.”
The corner of his lip turns up. “Pretty, hm?”
“Just ask Baekhyun.”
“Baekhyun?” The others have been mentioning him a lot recently.
Kyungsoo shakes his head, exasperated. “About my wish.”
Yixing blinks at the change of subject.
“I’m going for lunch with my mother tomorrow. It’d be nice if the restaurant wasn’t too crowded. Also, could you make it sunny out please?”
“Are you going easy on me? Is this your original wish? Because if it isn’t, and you changed it because I was stressing just now-”
“It is,” Kyungsoo interrupts, laughing. “I promise.”
He’s still suspicious, but Kyungsoo meets his gaze earnestly, and Yixing decides to believe him. “What’s the name of the place? How are you getting there tomorrow?”
Kyungsoo tilts his head at him, confused, but tells him anyway. Yixing slips out of the dorm later, wandering the route. He keeps his finger on his cheek along the way, wishing for the roads to be nice and clear. When he gets to the restaurant, he peers in and wishes that Kyungsoo would get that lovely, cozy table in the corner, and for the food to be exceptionally good.
The sun shines brighter the next morning, and Kyungsoo leaves only after engulfing him in a grateful hug. Yixing allows himself to be dragged out by Chanyeol and Jongin to play, as his dongsaengs put it, his mind settled and calm.
One more to go.
--
The dorm’s unusually quiet. Yixing wanders around the rooms, curious. Perhaps they went out; he doesn’t remember there being anything on their schedule today.
“Hey,” and Yixing jumps, dropping his bag in the hallway.
“You scared me, Baekhyun,” he chides. He lifts his arms in greeting but Baekhyun doesn’t envelop him with a hug as he usually does. Yixing lets his arms fall, hesitant. “Something wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
The wish, then. It always starts with them thinking. Yixing smiles encouragingly. “Go ahead.”
“I’m not sure if it’s something you would want to grant.”
“I would, if it’s within the rules-”
“It’s not.”
Yixing nods slowly. “I see.”
“It breaks your third one. The influencing people bit.”
“Well, do you need more time to think about it? There’s no hurry.”
“No,” Baekhyun interjects hastily. “I’ve done all the thinking I need. This is something I want. Will you hear me out, hyung?”
“Of course,” Yixing says, slightly bewildered. They’re still standing awkwardly in the hallway, in the middle of nowhere, but Baekhyun shows no intention of moving. He looks nervous, stressed out. “Hey,” Yixing tries gently, hoping to soothe, “I’m listening, Baekhyun-ah.”
“There’s this guy.” Baekhyun sighs, meets his gaze unsteadily. “He’s a bit of an idiot.”
Yixing frowns. “That’s not very nice.”
Baekhyun huffs. “I’m not done yet. He’s a bit of an idiot, but I’m hopelessly crazy about him. And I’m sure I’m pretty obvious about it, and everyone else seems to know, but this guy’s a bit of an idiot.”
“Ah,” is all Yixing can say.
“So, upon Jongdae’s advice, which frankly I’m not sure why I’m heeding, I’m going to be so blatantly upfront about it that this guy will finally, have to get the hint.”
Yixing nods, unsure of what else to do. He tracks Baekhyun with his eyes, watches him fidget, take a deep breath, and then say, “I wish you would let me kiss you.”
Yixing opens his mouth, then shuts it with a click.
“I’m kinda hoping you don’t actually need to rub your magic dimple for this wish?” Baekhyun blurts out, embarrassedly. “But if you do, then fine, I get it, I’ll just content myself with one kiss and… be completely heartbroken over Christmas, I guess.”
Yixing’s still staring.
“Not that I’m emotionally blackmailing you or anything,” Baekhyun adds frantically. “Just. Oh my god. Bury me alive already, I actually have to spell it out for you. Hyung, I like you, okay? Is this wish something you can grant?”
Will you let me kiss you, Yixing finally hears, and will you kiss me back. Yixing silently curses his exceptionally slow buffering capacity. Baekhyun’s been trying to tell him since… a long time ago. Looks of longing, broken only when Yixing returns his gaze quizzically. Lingering touches that felt slightly possessive at times, especially when Yixing plays around with the other members too much. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy them. Baekhyun’s so much to him, always there with a hand in the small of his back, guiding him to the van after an exhausting performance, always there with a word of encouragement and an attempt to make him laugh, always there when the doubt and insecurity in his mind roars a little too loudly. Yixing revels in Baekhyun’s company; his steps are always lighter, his shoulders held higher. He’d just been a little too comfortable, never thinking to question why.
“No,” he answers, and Baekhyun’s face crumples. But he moves forward, crowds right up into Baekhyun’s space. “Because the rules are rules. But you should go ahead and kiss me anyway.”
Baekhyun’s gaze snaps back to him. “What?”
Yixing grins. “I actually have to spell it out for you? I’m saying you don’t need a wish to kiss me, Baekhyun-ah.”
Yixing waits, because Baekhyun takes a moment to register that he’s been given explicit permission. Then cautiously, he leans forward and fits their mouths together.
It’s brief at first, but pleasant, Baekhyun jerking back to gauge Yixing’s reaction.
Yixing licks his lips.
Gaining confidence, Baekhyn tugs Yixing closer, leaving barely an inch between them. He curls a hand hungrily around Yixing’s neck, and kisses him generously, warmly, indulgently; exactly how he treats Yixing all the time. Yixing can’t help but melt into it, giddy and breathless.
“Okay?”
“Definitely okay,” Yixing rasps out. His legs feel unsteady; it’s a good excuse to clutch at Baekhyun harder.
Baekhyun beams, and it’s brighter than the sun framed in a cloudless sky. He launches forward and attacks Yixing’s mouth once more, gunning it a little dirty to pull a startled, needy sound from him. And then he smirks, victorious, and proceeds to pepper Yixing’s neck with kisses.
“Stop,” Yixing yelps, squirming in his grasp. “This idiot gets it now.”
Baekhyun takes mercy on him, and pulls away with a lingering kiss on his jaw. “I’m happy, hyung. Really happy.”
“Good.” It was all he wanted, to make them happy with the wishes he gave out. This feels even better, this wave of affection and satisfaction cresting within him. “I’m happy too.”
Baekhyun tips his head in the direction of Yixing’s bedroom. They crabwalk all the way there, unwilling to let go of each other, and then tumble onto Yixing’s bed. And then it’s something they’ve done plenty of times before: Yixing lifts an arm, Baekhyun shifts to his side, and they slot against each other perfectly. Yixing wonders how he never noticed.
There’s a noise from outside.
“That’ll be the rest, back from dinner. I shooed them away for this.”
“Very thoughtful,” Yixing teases.
“I didn’t want them to witness my possible breakdown. You know, just in case you refused.”
“I don’t think I could,” Yixing says, and Baekhyun looks at him carefully. “It’s… a little terrifying, but I don’t think I could refuse you.”
“Sap,” Baekhyun says, but a lovely flush makes its way across his cheeks. “You’re the biggest sap, ever.”
“Says the guy who wished for a kiss-oh. That’s right, you still have your wish.”
Baekhyun hums, thinking. Yixing snuggles closer, unbearably content. The members’ voices grow louder. He can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas, surrounded by them all.
“Nah,” Baekhyun says eventually. “I don’t need it.”
----
“To grant all a man's wishes is to take away his dreams and ambitions.
Life is only worth living if you have something to strive for. To aim at.”
- P.B. Kerr
1. For all you lovelies out there, merry Christmas. ♥ I hope you enjoyed.
2. Jongdae's wish was based on which Japanese celebrity he wanted to meet lol.
3. Yixing has a magic dimple, just ask Baekhyun.
4. Also on AO3.