taohan high school au ;D part 2 of 3
Details: hinted one-sided Tao/Kris, Kris/Lay, Luhan/Tao; 10,679 words this part; PG-13.
Summary: see previous part.
Notes: More fic! More fluff!! More great art from karedon!!!
Half-court Shot
“FOUL!” Lu Han called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Ref! You’re blind! That was a foul! BOOOO!”
Beside him, Yixing stuck out two thumbs down. The rest of the audience were jeering too, upset that one of the defensemen from the opposing team had knocked Yifan in the ribs when they bumped into each other. But the referee hadn’t called it even though Yifan had fallen down, maybe because it’d looked accidental. On the court, Yifan gave a disappointed shake of his head, laying a careful hand on his side. Soryoung ran by, slapping him on the back and saying something in his ear, and Yifan nodded, wincing. He looked back towards their bench.
Coach Youngmin waved him in. Yifan frowned, but trotted over just as Zitao stood up.
“They’re subbing Yifan for Tao?” a student nearby asked. “We’re screwed.”
Lu Han whipped around, frowning at the person. “We’ll be fine! Zitao’s good! He’s been pulling his weight the entire time!”
“He’s not nearly as good as Yifan though,” the guy said.
“Yifan has been playing over half the game,” Yixing said. “You can tell he’s tired. And they probably want to check if he’s actually injured.”
“Hope he isn’t, because I don’t think a rookie’s going to pull us ahead before the game’s over.”
“Just watch,” Lu Han argued. “Zitao’s going to surprise you.”
Zitao took that moment to look up to the benches. He seemed a bit nervous, eyes darting around, and it pushed Lu Han to stand up and scream, “HUANG ZITAO! YOU’RE GOING TO BE GREAT!”
Yixing raised a thumb to press against his left ear. Lu Han wasn’t sorry. Zitao heard him, waving one bendy arm up at Lu Han, a grin splitting his face.
Lu Han sat back down, breathless.
This was the most exciting basketball game he’d ever sat in. Usually he’d only bother to attend if it was a playoff game, or if he was truly desperate for a reason to get out of the house, but this season seemed especially intense right from the get-go. He didn't used to get this much into it, screaming his lungs out at every opportunity, clapping his hands raw, but it was fun. Yifan always rolled his eyes when Lu Han and Yixing cheered for him, but Zitao soaked it up the attention like an actor on a stage. The few times he’d been sent into the game, Lu Han had made sure that every play he’d made was met with obnoxious applause, and he could tell that it was really boosting Zitao’s spirits.
Their team was losing 90-86, but that was okay. Lu Han would obviously prefer it if they won, but a defeat here wasn’t the end of the world. They were still leading their school district in overall points. Last year’s team had started low and ended high, but this year they seemed to have exploded out of the stables with the intent to dominate and take no mercy. Lu Han wasn’t sure if it was their coach pushing them this hard because of his own emotional agenda, striving for one last championship before his star player got snatched away to university, but the end result was good sport entertainment.
Even Minseok was tied to the game. The opposing team fouled again, but they were caught this time, and as soon as a whistle blew for a penalty shot, Lu Han yanked out his cell phone to update Minseok on the score.
subbed Yifan out for tao. down 4 pts. 8 min left!!!!!!
Minseok immediately replied, we’ll win
“Minseok says we’ll win!” Lu Han crowed, hitting Yixing’s shoulder.
“Why wouldn’t he? It’s an easy thing to say when you’re not watching the game,” said Yixing.
“Are you saying we won’t win?” Lu Han accused.
Yixing shrugged complacently. “It was a good game either way.”
“You’re the most boring spectator on the planet. I can’t believe I dragged you with me.”
“I can’t really believe it either,” said Yixing. “You should have sat with the cheerleaders. If you borrowed a uniform you’d fit right in.” He cast a sly glance at Lu Han’s bright yellow top and equally garish sneakers. “Actually…”
“Of course I’d wear school colours!” Lu Han cried, and nearly missed seeing the next shot.
The whistle sounded.
Daeryoung had scored a three-pointer.
Their entire side of the gym erupted. “YES!” Lu Han screamed, ecstatic. Daeryoung high-fived with Soryoung and the two of them did their weird celebratory shoulder dance, to the audience’s raucous approval.
WE GOT 3 PTS! 4 MIN LEFTTT Lu Han furiously texted Minseok. When he looked back up, Daeryoung was jogging to the bench, and exchanging a fistbump with Yifan.
“Oh,” said Yixing. “Guess they’re letting him back on? Is this good or not?”
“I don’t know,” said Lu Han. Yifan was noticeably tired. Grim-faced and heavy-jawed, a few strands of hair had escaped his tiny ponytail, flopping over his sweatband, and Yifan was too preoccupied to even push them back. Youngmin called for a time-out, gathering the entire team close to lay out one last plan of attack. Zitao automatically slid in beside Yifan, resting one arm around Yifan's shoulders. Yifan turned to whisper something to him, pointing at the gameplay diagram their coach was holding out, and Zitao grimaced, shaking his head. Yifan said something else, and Zitao pouted.
Lu Han was tense. What were they talking about? Were they going to try something Zitao didn’t want to do?
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “HEY! TAOZI!”
Zitao’s head jerked up and he caught Lu Han’s eye, surprised.
Lu Han aimed his best, most cheesy thumbs up and Zitao burst out laughing. Yifan looked up at them too, so Lu Han gestured to his own head and said, “YOUR PONYTAIL IS UGLY.” Yifan frowned, but that just made Zitao laugh harder.
The huddle broke and Zitao walked to his position still smiling.
“Let’s do this!” Lu Han heard Yifan roar in English, and the whistle blew to restart the game.
The timer started counting down. Minute one passed in a mass collision of angry limbs and squeaking sneakers. The second minute ticked through and the gym started swelling with noise, not just from the shouting players, but the crowds, encouraging their home team, taunting the rivals. By the third minute, sweat was running down Yifan's and Zitao’s faces, their mouths open and panting. Yifan was pointing his team left and right, spinning crazily whenever he had the ball, shoving his way through the opposing defensemen, a tornado concentrated in 186cm of skinny arms and thick legs. The opponents gathered on him, like hyenas swarming over a carcass, and Yifan burst through underneath, running up to the net-
Less than one minute on the clock. He pivoted and tossed the ball back-
Zitao caught it. Jumped up. Shot from the three-point line.
The ball went in.
The whistle blew. The gym cracked open with renewed screams. Zitao jumped again, punching the air in triumph. He ran towards Yifan, and they slammed into each other, smiles a mile wide, before bouncing back to half-court. The game wasn’t over, but there were only thirty seconds left and they managed to hang on for a final score of 91-90.
When the game-ending buzzer sounded, Lu Han thought he would tear his throat open from screaming so loudly. Even Yixing was on his feet, stomping and whooping, spinning his fist in a circle. The team all leapt on Zitao, ruffling his hair and patting his back, hooking sweaty arms around his neck and tugging him all over the place like a rag doll. Yifan hung back a little, trying to tamper down his own smile, and was caught off guard when Zitao slipped out of the mass of hysterical bodies to practically collide into him, arms going around Yifan's neck, gleeful face tucking into Yifan's shoulder. Yifan froze for a second before his own arms circled Zitao’s waist, and he rubbed Zitao’s back gently.
They must have stood like that for two, three, maybe four seconds. Eons, really. Even while the rest of the gym around him was going of its collective mind about the great game that had just finished, Lu Han felt something inside him fall quiet, shrivel up, and drop heavily to the bottom of his stomach.
He sank back down to his seat slowly. Yifan and Zitao walked off the court together, Zitao’s arm still glued to Yifan's shoulders.
Fingers touched Lu Han’s wrist.
“So, about that non-existent crush,” Yixing said. He wasn’t teasing. He looked worried.
“Yeah, about that,” Lu Han muttered.
His pocket buzzed.
did we win?? Minseok had texted, along with a fainting hamster sticker.
yep, Lu Han wrote back. He added a line of cheering dogs, punctuated with a weeping girl, but his heart wasn’t really in it.
-
So things had taken a bit of a U-turn.
The problem with stomping down a burgeoning crush was that it was easier said than done. Especially when the target of your affections kept on presenting himself to you, day after day, doing cute things like giggle behind his hand, stuff too many dumplings into his mouth to close it properly, or lean over your shoulder to pull ugly faces right by your own. It was like trying to keep to a diet in the middle of a Parisian bakery. How was Lu Han expected to estrange his interest when Zitao kept on hanging around, doing interesting things? Even when he was just sitting there, batting at Yifan's shoulders like a bratty child, Lu Han couldn't help being amused. And as a result of attempting emotionally detachment, Lu Han found himself more attuned to shallow things, like how well Zitao's uniform always fit his body-there were no loose shoulders like Lu Han’s, no baggy pant legs like Yixing’s, no slightly-too-short cuffs like Yifan's. Zitao’s body was a marvel of human biology, and the confidence with which he carried himself was the icing on the cake. Lu Han’s now go-to mantra of “just a friend, just a friend” was pointless against the attraction to Zitao’s physicality that had pulled Lu Han’s eye to Zitao in the first place.
And it wasn’t just Lu Han who was noticing it these days.
Spurred on by netting the game-winning point at the most recent heart-stopping win of the school’s basketball team, Zitao’s popularity among the student population skyrocketed to crazy heights. He’d been recognized before as the martial arts kid who had an extreme fashion sense, but now that he’d aligned himself with Yifan and his team, people knew his name, not just his face. Now it wasn’t Yifan the basketball captain and Yixing the musical prodigy and Lu Han the soccer star anymore. It was Yifan, Yixing, Lu Han, and Zitao too, the new kid on the block who everyone was keeping an eye on, consciously or not. An unexpected fourth in their long-standing trifecta.
Zitao loved it, of course. And Lu Han loved seeing him happy, but-it was a strange feeling, to be jealous of everybody, and at the same time, nobody.
Lu Han felt possessive, and he felt ridiculous that he felt possessive, and he tried everything he could to convince himself out of his possessiveness in the spirit of unpolluted friendship-but he’d found Zitao first. Before Zitao had even stepped foot into the halls of their school, he was screwing up Lu Han’s bubble tea orders behind the counter of Rainbow Café and having trouble meeting Lu Han’s eyes when he inevitably spilt something again. Lu Han wanted to be the one to be able to touch Zitao casually, make Zitao turn towards him just by calling his name. He already had to hold himself back from bullying Zitao just to instigate him-he had this compulsive need to confirm that Zitao thought of Lu Han specially because he would laugh, not sneer, whenever Lu Han gave him a punch to the shoulder.
But however much Zitao liked Lu Han, he still liked Yifan more. The ocean currents that ran through the school seemed to have swept Zitao firmly into Yifan's borders, so that during lunch break, after school, at club meetings, wherever one of them was, the other one was sure to be nearby-two tryhards fond of wearing pretentious shades despite how much of a poser it made them look. They encouraged each other's most eye-roll-worthy habits; they seemed lost in their own little world most days.
Why on earth did Lu Han want either of their company again?
The thought made an image of Zitao’s curling grin slam through his mind like an avalanche. Oh yeah.
“I think Yifan is breaking up with us,” sighed Lu Han, kicking at Yixing’s piano bench. “He never returns my pokes anymore.”
“Maybe he is,” Yixing said, “but can’t this maudlin discussion wait until I’m done practise?”
Lu Han gestured to the encompassing music practise room and its brown-padded walls. “No way! I need you to play a bunch of pop songs to hype up my mood. Otherwise I’m going to go on a sugar spree.”
“Oh no,” deadpanned Yixing. “You’re so annoying when you’re on a sugar high.”
“You know what to do then! How about some DBSK? Balloons? Can you play Zion on your guitar?”
Yixing sighed, and tapped out the first few notes of Love in the Ice.
“But that's so sad, I don't want that,” said Lu Han.
“I don’t want you here very much either, but I’m dealing with you anyway,” said Yixing. He took his hands off the keys and spun around to face Lu Han dead on. He slapped his palms on Lu Han’s knees. “What’s going on? You reassured me-very vehemently-after that game that you were totally, one hundred and ten thousand percent-your words-fine and not interested in Zitao romantically.”
“So?” Lu Han whined.
“And, just to remind you, in the two weeks after our dinner with Zitao, both Yifan and I asked you multiple times if you were really not going to make a move on Zitao, and you told us that you had no intention of pursuing him.”
“Why can you remember details about my life so well but you can’t find your cell phone when it’s right in your lap?”
“The point is,” Yixing continued, “that you’re either in deep denial about wanting to be with Zitao, or you’ve been harbouring the hots for Yifan for however many years we’ve known him. Alternatively,” he added, when Lu Han pretended to vomit at the Yifan suggestion, “you could also just be losing your mind. So.” He slowed down his words, the same way Lu Han once heard him speak to a very lost toddler. “Why is Zitao and Yifan's friendship bothering you so much?
“But why doesn’t it bother you?!” Lu Han exploded, jabbing a finger at Yixing. “Yifan is your boyfriend and he’s spending all his time with this hot new guy! Don’t you care?”
Yixing’s face turned slightly pained. “Yifan isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Not this again. You love him a disgusting amount. He’s your boyfriend.”
“By that definition, you’re my boyfriend too.”
Lu Han shook his head. “Aw, Xing Xing,” he chided, ruffling Yixing’s hair. “We’ve had this conversation. You lost your chance with me when you asked me if Manchester United was a political party.”
Yixing quickly pecked Lu Han on the lips, just to see him recoil. Lu Han recoiled. “Ew! Your mouth has touched Yifan's dick!”
“The reason that I’m not jealous of Zitao and Yifan,” Yixing said, “is because I know Yifan isn’t interested in Zitao like that. He’s just flattered that someone looks up to him as much as Zitao seems to, even though I think he’s a bit overwhelmed with all the attention.”
“What if you’re wrong and they elope,” suggested Lu Han. “Hasn’t Yifan always wanted to elope?”
Yixing didn’t take the bait. “You and I have grown up with that idiot. Just because I’ve seen him naked more times than you have doesn’t mean you don’t know him as well as I do. You can tell he doesn’t like Zitao like that, right?”
Lu Han lowered his eyes to Yixing’s calm hands, cupping his jittery knees. “Yeah.”
“So what’s really bothering you here is that Zitao is spending so much time with Yifan, right?”
Lu Han said nothing.
“Lu Han.”
“He really likes Yifan,” Lu Han heard himself say. “I’m not envious of that. I’m happy Yifan is helping Zitao fit in and do well in school and stuff. But Zitao seems to like him so much. What if he doesn’t grow out of Yifanitis?”
Yixing’s eyes were very warm, and very sad. “That’s not something you can control, unfortunately. Zitao’s feelings are his own business.” He gently squeezed Lu Han’s thighs.
“I don’t want to see him hurt,” admitted Lu Han.
“Yeah. I get that.”
“Yifan is a loser. Zitao’s going to be disappointed when he finally figures that out.”
“Probably.”
Lu Han's voice quieted. He mumbled, “And-and I think I do like him, but I don’t know what to do about that.”
Yixing sighed in sympathy. "If you’d like Yifan and I to make out in front of Zitao or something,” he offered.
“Really? That’s a great idea,” said Lu Han, blinking.
“I was kidding. We’re not going to do that.”
“You should! It’d get the point across right away.”
Yixing took a while to answer. He said carefully, “I don’t think Yifan would be very comfortable with that. Besides, I don’t think that he knows that Zitao has a crush on him. I’m pretty sure he thinks they’re just good friends.”
Lu Han groaned. “And he calls me the idiot? He’s always like this! He won’t admit that other people like him until they’re, like, stuffing Valentine chocolates into his locker or something in the middle of November. He’s so stubborn.”
“He’s not very smart, no,” agreed Yixing. “But it might be purposeful on his part. He can claim ignorance for a lot of stuff this way.”
“That’s so selfish. When is he going to get the fuck over himself and just admit it already that he’s only into you? It’d solve so many of his issues.”
“We’re getting back to the complications of other people’s feelings,” said Yixing. He sounded weary. “I can’t control Yifan anymore than you can control Zitao. We’ve just got to trust that they’ll figure themselves out some day.”
Yixing’s smile was encouraging, but slightly weighed down at the edges-maybe by his own insecurities. The tangled yarn ball of his and Yifan's not-really-a-non-relationship had so many frayed ends-missed opportunities, unspoken truths, easy way outs-that Lu Han wondered how Yixing kept sane with it all. Lu Han was probably the only person on earth to whom those two could admit how much they cared about each other, and they still held back.
Maybe this was why Yixing was so undisturbed in the face of Zitao and Yifan's cheesy after-school romance: he was used to not being demonstrative, to putting others’ needs ahead of his own, of not making a fuss. To say Yifan was shy about what the two of them had was a vast understatement, but Yixing trusted in his own understanding of Yifan. So over the years, in lieu of getting reassurances from sappy declarations of devotion or couple rings and matching earrings that normal couples might share, Yixing cultivated an impenetrable conviction inside himself of Yifan's True Feelings based on arm touches and secret glances: that he would always come back to Yixing, in the end.
Which-of course he would. Yifan was barely Yifan without Zhang Yixing’s shoulder to lean on.
Lu Han reached out abruptly, needing to feel Yixing’s solid warmth under his arms, the one real thing he knew he could always count on, no matter what stormy waters the world plunged them into. Yixing hugged back, then reached up a hand to tweak Lu Han’s ear. He said, “Let’s be optimistic. Maybe the better question is, what’s going to happen if Zitao does grow out of Yifanitis?” He looked at Lu Han significantly. “I think he’d appreciate having a friend to help cheer him up, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han said. He cleared the lump in his throat. Back to square one.
-
Two days later, Lu Han emerged from the school after soccer practise and noticed a familiar spiky blond head dotting the bench by the bus stop. Yifan was slouched like a B-grade fashion model; he had one earbud plugged in, shades on, and looked like he could fall asleep right on the bench.
“Did your car break down?” Lu Han asked, walking up behind him. He swung his backpack into Yifan's head.
“It’s fine,” said Yifan, immediately yanking it off and patting down his hair. “I was waiting for you. Want a ride home?”
“What kind of dumbass question is that?” Lu Han grinned. “You could have just texted me.”
“I did,” said Yifan. “You didn’t answer.”
Lu Han took out his phone and blinked at its black screen. “Oh, it died.”
Yifan sighed and stood up with the physical weariness of a ninety-year old. He hooked Lu Han’s bag over his shoulder and Lu Han gave him a little pat on the butt to get him walking.
“So what’s the occasion? This is being awfully hospitable, even for you,” said Lu Han, following Yifan across the street.
Yifan's eyebrows twitched. “Yixing thinks we need to talk.”
Lu Han nearly tripped over himself. “Oh, uh-”
“About Zitao.”
Something stuttered oddly in Lu Han’s chest. He bit his lip. “What’s there to talk about?”
“If you think I’ll care if you guys start going out-” Yifan started.
“I don’t want to go out with Tao!”
“Come on,” said Yifan. “Yixing told me that you wilted like a flower after the basketball game, when Zitao didn’t-”
“I hate it when you compare me to flowers.”
Yifan turned to face him. “Don’t avoid the subject. I’m trying to say that if you’re holding back because you feel any-if you’re nervous about my reaction or something...” he trailed off.
“Why would I be nervous about that?” Lu Han said, gaping. The last time Lu Han saw Yifan look this uncomfortable, Yifan had been trying to make up a plausible excuse for why he was carrying a bunch of porno magazines in his gym bag, while Lu Han and Yixing were ducked around the corner and desperately muffling their laughter. It hadn’t been an intentional prank-Lu Han had gotten dared to buy the magazines but none of the store clerks believed that he was above legal age, so he wheedled Yixing to do it for him. That day it so happened that Yixing was delivering the gym bag Yifan had left at his house over the weekend, and Yixing just automatically stuffed the magazines inside without thinking of the consequences. The whole incident actually ended up raising Yifan's cred amongst his team, but Yifan had been pissed for weeks.
Well, days. The three of them had never been able to stay angry at each other for very long.
Maybe that’s why Yifan was looking distinctly constipated when he said, “Zitao-we hang out a lot and we get along pretty well, so I don’t know if you’re assuming that, uh, I have some authority over him as team captain-because truthfully-”
“Oh my god, stop,” said Lu Han, waving his arms like an airport traffic controller. “As if I'd think stuff like that!”
Yifan's shoulders slumped heavily with relief. “That’s what I told Yixing. But he said that I was being really inconsiderate of your feelings.”
“That nosy do-gooder,” muttered Lu Han. "Shouldn't have told him a thing."
“Just admit it already, Lu Han, there’s no reason to not let yourself-"
“I mean, okay, fine, maybe I like him, but-”
“See, that's good. I don’t see the point of hiding it from us and-”
“And okay! It’s not nerves or anything, but maybe I am a little-just a little-peeved at you. But not at you, really. Just things that you-as a person-choose to... uh. Do.”
Yifan's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “I’m… confused,” he said.
Lu Han couldn’t meet his eyes. “Like… maybe you could stop… leading him on. Um.”
Yifan grabbed his arm. Lu Han winced. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” Yifan asked.
“Not on purpose,” Lu Han protested, pulling away. “I know you’re being nice, because you’re a nice person. But Zitao seems to really be, uh, picking up on that? And responding to it?”
“That’s a good thing,” said Yifan, but he sounded doubtful.
“Yeah,” said Lu Han. “Um. But he’ll think you like him.” Catching the defensiveness on Yifan's face, he added hastily, “Seriously like him.”
“Zitao isn’t even interested in me like that.”
Hearing that was unbelievable. “Are you stupid?” Lu Han said. “It’s so obvious he does.”
Yifan's expression turned a little aggrieved. “I think he admires me a lot. Actually, I know he does. The other day I overheard him telling the other guys on the team that he thought I was cool. It was really very awkward. But it doesn’t mean that he has a crush on me.”
Lu Han wanted to laugh. “I'm pretty sure it’s a good indication he does.”
“Zitao’s weird though. He really feeds off other people’s acknowledgement.”
“So? That means he can't like you?”
“I didn’t say that,” said Yifan. “I’m saying that just because he admires me because I’m his captain and I pay attention to him, you shouldn’t assume that he’s interested in me romantically. Because he’s not. He likes you too, you know.”
Lu Han stared at him. “Don’t be offended, but you’re a shit judge on whether people like you or not. Remember Jongdae?”
Yifan pouted. “That wasn’t my fault. He was mean usually, so of course I noticed it more when he was nice to me.”
“He was like that towards everyone! He didn’t have some special hot-and-cold infatuation with just you! He didn’t even apologize when he stepped on your new high-tops that one time and got them all muddy.”
“Oh yeah,” said Yifan. “I remember that.” He rubbed at his neck.
“And remember Baekhyun? He always acted so cutesy to you, and you thought he was just playing around.”
Yifan scowled a little, then said, “Well, he was, wasn’t he? It wasn’t a serious thing anyway.”
Lu Han shoved him. “If you don’t believe me about Zitao liking you, you should just fucking ask him yourself!”
“I think you need to reconsider Zitao’s behaviour. It’s not like he doesn’t respond well to you, either.”
“It’s different,” Lu Han muttered. Zitao laughed with Lu Han, and they had a good time playing with each other, sure, but it was incomparable to the way that he interacted with Yifan.
“Also. If he liked me, wouldn’t he have asked me out already?” asked Yifan. “He, uh, doesn’t know about Yixing, I don’t think.”
“OH AND ABOUT THAT,” Lu Han said. “Can you stop spending so much time with your boy toy and more with your boyfriend?”
A vague cloud of nausea passed over Yifan's face. “Yixing’s not my boyfriend.”
“Please, not this, anything but this,” moaned Lu Han.
“He’s not,” protested Yifan. “We’re just… I don’t know. We’re not boyfriends.”
“But Zitao is your boy toy?” Lu Han shot back.
They reached Yifan's car. “I changed my mind,” said Yifan. “You can bus home after all.”
Lu Han’s jaw dropped. “Don’t you dare, Wu Yifan!”
Yifan gave him an unimpressed look and opened the driver’s side door, slipping inside. He didn’t unlock the passenger door. Lu Han slapped at the window. “You dick! My bus has probably already left by now! Let me in!”
Yifan put on his sunglasses and checked his hair in the rear view mirror.
“You can’t be mad just because I said you don’t know how to read other people’s feelings!”
Yifan took out his cell phone.
“Fine, oh my god,” said Lu Han. “You’re an awesome judge of character and you’re right about all your delusions and Zitao’s not into you and Yixing isn’t your boyfriend and you’re really handsome and that new sweater you bought last weekend definitely doesn’t make you look like a homeless drug dealer.”
Yifan reached over and unlocked the door. “I would’ve been happy with, ‘Yes I will re-evaluate Zitao’s opinion of me,’ but the other stuff was good too.”
“You make no sense. Who’s even the me in that sentence?” Lu Han grumbled, sitting down with as much petulant indignation as he could manage.
“It’s you,” said Yifan. “Because I’m pretty sure he’s interested in you.”
-
There was admittedly a long list of people from whom Lu Han would solicit advice before he would go to Yifan, not because Yifan gave bad advice, but because their personalities were so different that their opinions never aligned on anything. Sometimes, though, something Yifan said would penetrate through the bubbles in Lu Han’s head and strike a chord in him, like a stuck thorn. Then Lu Han would inevitably find himself following Yifan's suggestion to the tee even though he didn’t particularly want to. There was just some irksome about Yifan taking an authoritative, older-brother-esque role for Lu Han, even though Lu Han had no problem listening to Yixing or Minseok.
This time, he blamed it on his crush. Maybe it was masochistic of him, but he was already invested. Yifan said that Zitao was interested in him and Lu Han doubted that, but what if? What if Yifan was right? The question consumed him; Lu Han had to see for himself. His resolution to not start a relationship with Zitao now felt like an outdated law next to his need to know. This was about understanding. This was about exploring every avenue on the roadmap of Zitao. Lu Han would just have to deal with the disappointment, when it came.
At 6:10 on a school day, the Rainbow Bubble Tea Café was fit to burst. A lot of students swung by in their spare hours between classes and extracurriculars to get a sugar boost before getting to go home for dinner. It meant that Zitao, who was on shift today, barely had the time to toss a grin and a wave at Lu Han before he was swept back into taking customer orders. Lu Han parked himself by the wall where the line-up ended and took out his phone. He passed a few minutes spam-texting Minseok as he shuffled forward in line. After a while, when Minseok still didn’t reply, Lu Han looked up and saw a flip of dark hair as Zitao, all the way at the counter, turned quickly away from Lu Han’s direction.
Lu Han felt a grasshopper leap up in his stomach.
Last year, back when Sehun was still working up the nerve to ask Lu Han out, there had been a cute and slightly embarrassing trend of Lu Han catching Sehun staring at him when he thought Lu Han wasn’t paying attention. Lu Han hadn’t known how to handle that quiet, yet unabashed attraction. Like Yifan, he was used to being admired from a distance from giggling girls, who enjoyed him as an image more than as a person. Sehun, though, although there was a similarly coy side of him, hadn’t been afraid to get close to Lu Han, taking up all of Lu Han’s field of view, usurping Lu Han’s time and energy-but it was during those flash instances, when Lu Han would see the naked affection Sehun had for him marked unmistakeably across Sehun’s often blank face, that it would hit him: that kid really, really liked him.
And there was a genuineness in Sehun that Lu Han had always resonated with.
Maybe that was part of what pulled him towards Zitao, too.
“Ayo, Lu Zi,” Zitao grinned, when Lu Han finally reached the order counter.
Lu Han twitched. “What did you call me?”
“Lu Zi, Lu Zi. That’s your name now.”
“Eat shit,” Lu Han said. “You can call me Lord Lu or nothing.”
Zitao stuck out his tongue. “What drink can I get for you then, Loser Lu? The usual taro with pearls?”
“I’m going to write a complaint about you to Xin jie! And yes. I want a slice of coffee cake too.”
“Coming right up. Go find a table, I’ll bring it to you.”
“Okay.” Lu Han took out his wallet, but Zitao was already turning away.
“You never give me a chance to pay you back for our dinner,” he said. He waved Lu Han off. “My treat for sure today!”
Lu Han smiled, lowering his hands. “All right. Thanks, then.” But he quickly stuffed the money in the tip jar before Zitao noticed.
-
“Taro milk tea with extra pearls, and a large slice of coffee cake.” Zitao put both drink and dish onto the tiny table Lu Han had managed to hoard, then sat himself down too.
“I didn’t order any company,” Lu Han laughed, grabbing the tea and taking a long, satisfying sip.
“You’re lucky to get it!” Zitao said. “I’m on break. You are blessed with my handsome presence for ten minutes.”
“You’re working pretty hard,” Lu Han remarked. “You’ve been on shift practically every day this week.” Not that Lu Han had been stalking Zitao’s schedule or anything. He was just training a lot for soccer, which inevitably brought him by the café a lot. It was totally legitimate.
Zitao leaned back, face smug. “Yep! I need the money. I’m saving up for something.”
“Oh? Intriguing. What is it?”
“A secret,” Zitao said, holding a finger up to his lips. “You’ll find out soon. Very soon, even.”
“Why a secret?”
“Because it’ll be so much cooler if you only see the finished product!”
“Hope it’s not more gaudy jewelry.”
Zitao was dumbstruck. “My jewelry isn’t gaudy!”
“It really is.”
“My jewelry is-it’s fashionable, you know! It’s me making a statement.”
“And that statement is…” Lu Han asked, raising his eyebrows.
“That I’m awesome! Handsome and charismatic Huang Zitao.” Zitao grinned, wiggling his shoulders in delight. “They attract attention, right? And make me look good. Then people can look at me and see how great I am.”
Lu Han coughed out his tea. “Are you kidding me? You of all people don’t need flashy jewelry to prove that!” Zitao blinked and Lu Han froze, one hand catching the liquid dribbling down his chin. “Uh.” Zitao looked as surprised as Lu Han felt.
They stared at each other for a second, stunned, but then Zitao ducked his head and gave an odd-sounding giggle. He covered his face with his hands. “Wow, that almost sounded genuine.”
Lu Han put down his bubble tea. He cleared this throat. “That’s-um, because it was.” His face felt like it was on fire.
“Oh,” said Zitao.
“Mm,” Lu Han grunted.
“Thanks.”
“You’re… welcome,” managed Lu Han without dying. “Anytime.”
Zitao peered at him curiously. He braced an arm on the tiny table keeping the distance between them and leaned in close. “You’re not... are you flirting with me?”
It was as if someone had poured a bucket of lava down the back of Lu Han’s collar. He burst out in nervous laughter, heart jackhammering in his chest. “Hah, what-what? No way! I mean-it wasn’t on purpose, not that I would never want to-anyway, you started this conversation! It’s not like you’re flirting with me.”
Zitao opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, a strange expression dawning across his face. It was half panic, half confusion, but there was a trace of bashfulness in the way he suddenly dropped his gaze. He bit his lip.
“Unless,” Lu Han said, strangled, “you were?”
“So what if I was?” Zitao asked the table, very quietly. Before Lu Han could straighten out his brain to spit out an answer, Zitao had already pushed to his feet. He shot a quick smile at Lu Han, and it was fragile and uncertain in all the ways that Lu Han didn’t associate with Zitao. “I’m kidding,” he said, sounding overly flippant. “I’ve got to get back to work. See you at school tomorrow? Bye.”
He ran across the store and disappeared into the back room before Lu Han could call him to wait.
Lu Han slowly leaned back in his chair. His heart was still thrumming on overtime, as if he’d winded himself running. He stared at the empty seat Zitao had just vacated and slowly felt his cheeks stretch to let out an incredulous laugh.
Fuck. Did this mean he’d have to admit to Yifan that he’d been right?
-
“Ssshhh.” Lips meandered slowly down his chest, kissing every few centimetres. Lu Han shifted, lifting up his hips. There was a giggle. “Stop. Hold still, I said. Be quiet.”
“I am quiet.”
Another giggle. Teeth, nipping at his skin. Lu Han jumped again, but warm hands held him down this time, pinning him heavily to the bed. “Ssshh. Calm down, wow. We’re just getting started.”
Lu Han felt a tongue dip into his belly button, hot like molten steel. He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his moan.
Zitao’s hands dragged down his sides, nails scratching, and dug into the meat of Lu Han’s thighs. He was so low now that if Lu Han bucked up his hips, his crotch would rub against Zitao’s Adam’s apple. Lu Han tried not to whimper. He kept his right hand covering his open mouth, but let the other sink into the dark mess of Zitao’s hair, tugging just enough to make Zitao hum.
Blood was rushing through Lu Han’s ears, blurring his senses. It felt like the world was playing on fast forward and slowed down all at once-every brush of Zitao’s hot skin against his was never long enough, and yet it seemed like centuries were passing between every inch Zitao slid down the bed. Zitao’s weight on Lu Han’s legs were too much of a tease, and his hot breath fanning on the cloth of Lu Han’s briefs was roasting him alive.
“Zitao-” Lu Han moaned.
“No, really, be quiet or you’re going to ruin this,” Zitao said fondly, and nuzzled his face in the dip of Lu Han’s hipbone. Lu Han’s other hand slammed down to clench on the bed sheets.
“Just-right there, I-”
Zitao’s black eyes darted up to meet Lu Han’s.
“Here?” he asked, then laid his lips over right where Lu Han was straining most.
“Ah!” Lu Han cried, grip tightening-
He opened his eyes.
It was dark in his room. He fumbled automatically for his cell phone, turning on the screen to read the time. 5:12 am. Great.
Lu Han sighed. This was getting out of hand. It was the third dirty dream this week, and this one had felt exceptionally real, to the point that he swore he could feel Zitao’s body heat lingering on his skin.
Was it because of today’s abruptly-ended conversation at the café?
By the time Lu Han had returned home that evening, the high of figuring out that his attraction to Zitao wasn’t entirely one-sided had waned, diluting into a giddy sort of nausea. Because what did this mean, now? What was Lu Han supposed to do? It was nearing November, so realistically, they could have quite a few months together if they started going out. But what if Lu Han was never able to think about their relationship without worrying about a deadline?
He’d gotten together with Sehun in December of last year; stupidly, the thought of their time limit hadn’t occurred to him until halfway through March-after that realization, everything had shifted into a sharper focus. Suddenly it felt like every last minute together had the taste of being their last one, even though he logically knew it wasn’t. There had been a bad week when just the sight of Sehun walking away from him had made Lu Han’s guts wrench horribly. He couldn’t help it. When he fell in love, it was falling like a pit-Lu Han went in deep. When he fell in love, he-
Lu Han’s brain caught, then spun back like a broken record.
He’d never actually thought of the word ‘love’ with Zitao before.
But that was it, wasn’t it?
He attended Yifan's basketball games to cheer on Zitao. He thought about Zitao, a lot, about Zitao’s lips and eyes and girly laugh and random violent tendencies, and Zitao’s profile framed by an afternoon-sun-lit window. The first time he had hung out with Zitao for a significant amount of time, the two of them had spent more time competing against each other’s appetites than actually speaking-and it had been really fun. He found Zitao’s immaturity hilarious instead of exasperating. Lu Han’s body always stiffened weirdly whenever Zitao focused the full brunt of his magnetic energy on him.
He’d long forgotten what it was like to visit Rainbow Café solely for the bubble tea.
Lu Han thumped both his palms on his bedspread restlessly. This circling around was stupid, he had to make a decision: either he got over Zitao or not. Repressing his feelings during the day and dreaming about him at night wasn't doing Lu Han any favours, obviously. If anything, it was making things worse, because Lu Han would get flashes of his dreams during the day and then remember all over again that those scenarios were firmly in the realm of fantasy. But after today with Zitao, Lu Han felt sick with hope, like he'd amazingly been granted a key to the door to wonderland, if only he had the courage to unlock it and step through.
He wasn't sure he did. But he really wanted to.
Lu Han closed his eyes again and thought of Zitao's smile.
-
When Yifan sat down beside him with his lunch tray, Lu Han slid it away before Yifan could even open his water bottle.
Yifan pursed his lips. “Yes?” he asked, unenthused. “Is there something wrong, Lu Han?”
“Have you seen Zitao today?”
Yifan grabbed his lunch back. “You do realize the two of us have the exact same classes, right?”
“Answer the question, smart guy.”
“I haven’t,” said Yifan. “No practise today, no other plans. I was thinking of catching a movie, though. Want to go?”
“No,” Lu Han said immediately. “Can you call Zitao? I think he might be sick. Because he’s not answering my texts or anything.”
“Or maybe his phone is dead, like yours always is when I try to get in touch with you.”
“Or maybe he’s dead because he got into a car crash while biking to school and you’re going to regret not taking this seriously!”
Yifan's face was the definition of long-suffering. He flipped out his phone and flicked up Zitao’s name, dialing its number.
Lu Han pressed his ear to the other side of Yifan's phone. Zitao picked up after the fifth ring. “Hey, what’s up?”
Yifan frowned a bit. “You sound out of breath. Are you at school?”
“Not… really.”
“So you’re skipping.”
“It’s lunch time! I’m not skipping.”
“Were you in school this morning?”
“Weeeelll,” said Zitao. “I’m running errands. Very important! An hour of lunch wasn’t enough time, so I left after English.”
“So you left after your first class of the day.”
“But I didn’t skip the entire day, so give me credit for that!”
Yifan sighed. “Are you coming back later? You can’t keep on skipping classes for work. You should focus on grades too, not just money.”
“Thanks for the useless lecture.”
“Look. You’ve got Lu Han worried. He told me you’re not responding to his texts.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “I will!” Zitao blurted. His voice cracked. “I just-I haven’t had time, okay? I’ll reply soon. Tell him not to worry so much about me.”
“That’s not going to work.”
“Then tell him I’ll see him later! I’m coming back as soon as I finish this one thing, okay? Stop nagging me.”
“Good. Text me when you’re here.”
“I just said to stop nagging me!”
“Don’t get into too much trouble.”
“You’re ugly and you smell bad!” Zitao said, and hung up.
Yifan lowered his phone and raised his eyebrows at Lu Han. “Satisfied?”
“I guess,” said Lu Han. So he’d just have to wait, then. That kind of sucked. Not that he was in a rush or anything, but the more time that passed, the more nerve Lu Han lost. This morning he'd made the resolution to confess to Zitao and it was tearing apart his insides with anxiety. Yixing approached the table with his lunch and Lu Han aimed a finger at him. “Hey, buddy. This is on you if I screw up today! Keep that in mind!”
“Screw up what?” Yixing asked.
Lu Han’s eyes widened. Oh yeah. He hadn’t actually told Yixing about his plan yet. He’d carried out an entire imaginary conversation with him on the bus ride to school, complete with debate, name-calling, and hesitant resolution, eventually cementing Lu Han’s decision to confess, but this was the first time he’d seen Yixing all day.
“Um. Nothing?”
Yixing laughed the way he did when something completely flew over his head. “If you say so.”
Lu Han was about to revise himself, but he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He snatched it out.
hey sorry for not replying, Zitao had written. yea let’s meet up after school today ill show u that surprise i talked about ytd!!
Lu Han read through the message twice, then took a deep breath. nw. sounds good, he typed, and his thumb only shook a little when he clicked send.
-
By the time the final bell rang for school, Lu Han was so nervous he could puke. God, what was this aversion he had to being put on the spot? He always did well on the soccer field or when he had to perform for some special school activity, but whenever he had to get overly personal he would freeze up, his voice shrivelling away like water on hot pavement. And there would be no Yixing to hide behind here, no Yifan to pass the microphone to-it'd just be him, Zitao and a dumb, brittle, hopeless moment of truth.
This is okay, he repeated to himself. He could do this. This will be okay.
Oh god. He was really going for it.
“You’ll be fine,” Yixing had assured him, hands pressingly reassuringly on Lu Han’s shoulders. “That’s the nature of this kind of thing, to be a little scared. But whatever Zitao says to you, he won’t be mean about it. He’s way too soft-hearted.”
“You’re soft-hearted and you hurt Yifan's feelings all the time.”
“No he doesn’t,” Yifan had snapped, at the same time Yixing asked, surprised, “Do I?”
“We have to go now,” Yifan had said, winding an arm around Yixing’s shoulders and steering him away. “Good luck, don’t make an idiot of yourself.”
Too bad Lu Han had never quite figured out how to do that.
He was loitering around the school’s main doors, pacing a little, when someone behind him grabbed his elbow.
“Woah, hey-”
“Come this way,” Zitao said, pulling Lu Han back into the school.
Lu Han swallowed down the rock in his throat. “Where are we going?”
“Science lab,” said Zitao.
"What? The science lab?” asked Lu Han. “Why?”
“I need your help with something.”
“Oh. Uh.”
But Zitao’s fingers around Lu Han’s wrist did feel pretty nice, so Lu Han let himself be tugged down one hallway and into another, the two of them weaving through the steady stream of students heading in the opposite direction, until they stopped in front of the classroom in which Lu Han had taken chemistry three years ago. The room was empty, but still lit bright from a wall of windows, and Zitao quickly opened the door to shove Lu Han inside. He pushed it shut behind him and ran over to the supply closet to rifle through its cabinets.
“What’s going on?” Lu Han asked. This wasn’t what he’d been picturing when Zitao had said he’d wanted to show him a surprise.
Amid the mad clinking of their lab apparatus, Zitao took out a pair of forceps with a grin of triumph. “Ah, this.”
“Oh my god?”
“Relax! This will be cool. I read about tips and stuff on the way back to school. Loads of people do it themselves.”
“Tips for what? Do what?”
“Tongue piercings,” said Zitao. He tossed the forceps at Lu Han, who just barely managed to catch them before they took an eye out. “We’re going to give me one right now.”
-
Apparently, Zitao’s “errands” that morning had involved visiting a tattoo and piercing parlour that he’d heard a few guys on the basketball team mentioning before, and asking, with the invincibility only a fifteen-year-old could pull off, to get a tongue piercing. It had been a classy establishment, one of those that even celebrities could visit without worry, which was why Zitao had had to save up quite a bit before he could afford to drop in. It was assumedly also why the tattoo artist working in there at the time had taken one baleful look at Zitao and told him to come back when he was a few years older.
“I mean, don’t I look mature enough?” Zitao whined, dumping a load of rubbing alcohol onto a wad of tissues. He started frenetically polishing one of the needle they used for pinning dissections. “I can’t believe he’d turn down a customer’s money like that. Then, he told me to go back to school! It was unbelievable.”
“Uh, but don’t you think he had a point?” asked Lu Han.
Zitao narrowed his eyes at him. “You want to help me or not?”
“Well I don’t want you to do it yourself! I just don’t get why you can’t find another place if you want to get a piercing so badly!”
“Oh,” Zitao said sheepishly. “Well, on the way back to the subway I passed by a mall so I… went shopping a bit to cheer myself up.”
“I… see,” said Lu Han, all of the sudden noticing a ring around Zitao’s left index finger that he didn’t remember seeing before. “Anyway, shouldn’t you get this taken care of by a professional? It’ll be easier by all accounts.”
“How hard can it be though? You hold out the tongue, then push a needle through it. Stick in the piercing,” Zitao held up the thin, silver barbell in his hand, probably purchased at the same store he got the ring, “and that’s it! Probably there’ll be some blood, but that’s what kleenex is for.” He grabbed a box of tissues off the teacher’s desk.
Lu Han tried not to whimper. He wasn’t the best around blood.
“We’ll have to be careful about not hitting a vein in my tongue, though,” added Zitao. “Or else that might get really messy.”
Lu Han’s stomach flipped unpleasantly. He felt the same way he did when he was about to board an airplane. Heights and blood. His worst nightmares. “Yeah, um. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Pleeeease, Lu Han,” Zitao said. “I really need your help. I don’t want to wait until I have all that money saved up again.”
“You should have thought of that before you blew it all on rings and earrings!”
“And scarves,” sighed Zitao. “But they’re really nice ones. Come on. I’m begging you here. Pleeease?” He held up two hands beseechingly and did something with his face that Lu Han guessed was supposed to be a puppy dog expression. Why did Lu Han have to be so weak to terrible, spoiled people with dark eye bags and really cute smiles?
Although it was really, really flattering that Zitao had come to Lu Han to do this. Out of all the people he could have asked. Not Yifan. Not the twins. Lu Han. He trusted Lu Han enough to stick a needle into his tongue. It might even be sort of romantic, by Zitao’s weird standards.
“Hey, if you really want to back out,” Zitao started to say, sounding disappointed, “I can ask some-”
“No!” Lu Han heard himself cry. He grabbed the forceps and clicked them. “I can do it. Let’s do this.”
Zitao grinned. Lu Han's stomach did another back-flip. Not just because of the nausea.
-
“Ready?”
“‘ee--hy.”
“...really ready?”
“Yeth!”
“Like, really, really, one hundred percent, no taking it back ready?”
“Juth ‘oo i’ ahh’eady!”
“Okay, okay.” Lu Han hovered the needle a centimetre over Zitao’s tongue, right above where the forceps were clamped. Zitao obediently had opened his mouth as widely as possible and seemed to be growing increasingly agitated for each second Lu Han stalled. Or maybe he was just in pain. This grip on his tongue couldn’t be comfortable.
This whole situation was traumatic. Lu Han had had dirty thoughts about this tongue. He didn’t want to be abusing it like this. His hands were shaking. They understood better than Lu Han the pain they were about to inflict.
“‘u ‘an!” slurred Zitao.
Lu Han quickly snatched away needle and forceps. Zitao’s reddened tongue snapped back into his mouth.
“I just-sorry, I’m nervous,” Lu Han said, shaking out his hands. He peeled off the latex gloves; the insides were coated with sweat.
Zitao slumped back on his chair. “You know what, let’s not do this. You’re starting to get me all nervous too.”
“No, no, I can do it! I can.”
“You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I’m not going to faint,” Lu Han said, with more conviction than he felt.
Zitao’s eyebrows pinched together guiltily. “You can say you don’t want to do this, you know. It’s not like I’m going to force you.”
“I-” Lu Han started. “I-don’t not want to do this.”
“Come on, I’m not blind. Let’s forget about it, okay? This is making you uncomfortable, and I shouldn’t have ask-”
“But I was glad you asked!” Lu Han blurted. “I mean. I think it was cool of you to ask me. Even though I’m fucking it up.”
“You’re not, you can’t fuck up if you haven’t done it yet,” Zitao laughed. “And besides, who else would I ask?”
“...Yifan actually has had piercings done. I haven’t.”
“But Yifan is super lame about dumb things and would never let me get away with shit like this.” A grin slowly curled onto Zitao’s lips. “That’s why I keep you around.”
He kicked the bottom of Lu Han’s chair, then kept his leg extended like that, ankle touching Lu Han’s. Lu Han tensed.
Zitao leaned forward and cupped his chin on the heel of his palm. “You always do that. I still can’t make my mind up about if it’s cute or annoying.”
“Do what?” Lu Han mumbled. There was no way he should be able to feel Zitao’s body heat through his pants and yet-
“You look away whenever I compliment you.”
Lu Han’s focus swivelled back to Zitao. “Do I? No I don’t.”
“Yeah, you totally do. It’s like you have trouble believing that I like you.”
For a moment, Lu Han’s throat dried up. With effort, he managed, “But you do, right?”
“What, like you?” Zitao asked. He kicked Lu Han’s chair again. “I trust you enough to pierce my tongue. Shouldn’t that make it super obvious?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han said quietly. He looked down at the forceps and needle, lying neglected on the metal tray. “Let’s try this again?” He picked up the needle carefully and gave himself a not-so-gentle jab on the tip of his left index finger. “Ow!”
“What are you doing?!” Zitao yelled.
“I just wanted to see how much force I needed to pierce it through skin! Wow, this hurts, kind of.”
“You’re bleeding,” Zitao said, grabbing Lu Han’s hand. He examined the drop of blood welling up thickly from the finger and wiped it off with some tissue. Then he sucked the finger into his mouth.
Something very tiny and very dense underwent a semi-controlled explosion within the twisted spools of Lu Han’s gut.
It was maybe two seconds total, of Lu Han’s finger in Zitao’s mouth. But during those two seconds, Lu Han felt the wet lick of Zitao’s tongue, the scrape of Zitao’s top row of teeth against his second knuckle, the gentle hold that Zitao had around his wrist. It was like Zitao was sucking Lu Han’s heart up out of his chest and down his arm-every nerve in his body suddenly felt lit up, with most of the sensation concentrated on his left hand-but there was blood rushing between his ears, too, and down below, lower, he-
Zitao removed the finger and wrapped it up with the tissue. Then he gave the back of Lu Han’s hand a soft kiss. “There.”
“That-wasn’t really sanitary,” Lu Han said, trying not to squeak. Though all his limbs felt loose and rubbery, he gave a feeble pull to take back his arm.
Except Zitao didn’t let go. He allowed himself to be pulled with it, leaning over the desk, until he was almost nose to nose with Lu Han, their hands cupped between them. Lu Han’s eyes dipped, drawn to the cupid’s bow of Zitao’s lips, which were just barely open, as if caught on a silent vowel. Zitao’s breath fanned Lu Han’s face.
“Is this okay?” Zitao whispered.
It was the first time Lu Han remembering Zitao asking permission about anything.
“Yeah,” said Lu Han, swallowing hard. “It’s-” he clutched tight around Zitao’s fingers and lifted his chin, closing the last few centimetres of warm, empty space separating them.
Zitao’s lips were soft, eager. His other hand slid around the back of Lu Han’s neck, pressing him closer, as his mouth moved slowly over Lu Han’s. Lu Han licked gently at Zitao’s lips, and Zitao moaned a little as he opened up to let Lu Han in. The entire world infused with the dulled scent of Zitao’s deodorant; the caress of their mouths sounded softer than in Lu Han’s dreams. Their noses bumped awkwardly as they kissed, and Lu Han’s cheeks were on fire, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his right hand around Zitao’s bicep as an anchor, leaning in even more-
“Don’t!” Zitao said, wrenching away. He swept the stray needle off the desk and threw it on the metal tray. Lu Han had forgotten clean about it.
“Oh,” he said. It could have pierced his elbows. So careless.
Zitao grinned at him. “Wow, we’re kind of dumb, huh?”
“Really dumb.”
“Let’s go make out somewhere that doesn’t smell like rubbing alcohol.”
“Okay,” Lu Han agreed dizzily. He took Zitao's hand.
-
“So it was never about you and Yifan?” Lu Han asked. He gave their pilfered lab tools one last frown and gladly threw them back among their metallic siblings in the supply drawer.
Zitao, stuffing the cleaned metal tray back in the bottom shelf, lifted up his head so fast that he nearly bumped into Lu Han’s elbow. “Yifan?” he said. “What?”
“Oh. I mean, uh. You guys are always hanging out after school, so I thought that you-”
Zitao stared.
“Kind of… had a thing. For him,” Lu Han finished lamely.
Zitao’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he bent over, covering his face with his hands. His shoulders started to shake.
“Woah, no, no, no,” Lu Han rushed to say, “don’t cry, I didn’t mean it, I take it back-”
“I’m not crying,” Zitao yelled, looking up. His eyes were bright, but it really wasn’t because of tears. He was laughing. “You idiot, I got over that dumb crush like, the second week of team practise. Do you know that half his gym bag is filled with lotions and stuff? He also has tinted lip balm.”
“Yeah, he’s always been like that,” Lu Han said awkwardly.
“He’s too into himself,” said Zitao. “Too bad he’s nowhere near as cool as I used to think he was.”
“Don’t pretend you’re any better!” Lu Han blurted without thinking.
Zitao shoved Lu Han to the ground and tackled him. “I’m not saying I’m better!” he grinned. “I really like the Yifan I know now! He’s like a dorky big brother. But I have more fun with you.” He leaned down and pecked Lu Han on the nose.
“Oh,” swallowed Lu Han. His entire body lightened.
Zitao dragged them both to their feet and to the door. “Let’s go get some food,” he said, holding tightly to Lu Han’s arm. "Then afterwards we can talk about how you-" He reached for the doorknob and pressed down. The knob clicked. The door didn’t budge.
“Huh?” said Zitao. He tried again, pushing harder. The door clicked again, and rattled in its frame, but didn’t open.
“Um,” said Lu Han.
“Are we-” Zitao jiggled the doorknob frantically. “This can’t be right?”
“The school has electronic locks, dumbass!” Lu Han cried. “All the unused classrooms get locked after 6:30!”
“How the hell was I supposed to know that?!”
“Oh my god,” said Lu Han. “We’re stuck in here.”
“Don’t freak out. We can just call someone,” said Zitao. “You’re in the student council. Someone’s bound to be still in school.”
Lu Han took out his phone. Its screen was black and didn’t respond to any prodding. “My phone’s dead.” Of course.
“So…” said Zitao.
“So, um,” said Lu Han.
-
They were back to making out by the time help finally arrived. Lu Han sat stupidly, with Zitao on the desk in front of him, craning his neck upwards over and over to meet Zitao’s lips, so preoccupied that he didn’t even hear the lock beep from the outside.
“-orry we’re so late,” said Yixing’s voice, as the door clicked open. “Yifan turned his phone off during the movie so we-” he stopped. “Whoops.”
Lu Han shoved Zitao away from him-their lips made an obscene smacking sound as they broke apart- nearly tipping Zitao off the desk.
“Maybe we should come back later,” said Yifan. He was holding the access card that could unlock the classrooms after regular school hours. And he was laughing.
“No! Sorry, hi,” said Lu Han, combing his fingers hurriedly through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” said Yixing, smiling. “Are you guys all right?”
Zitao wasn’t even trying to suppress his grin. “Yep,” he said.
Lu Han nodded. His lips were numb from their kissing, his clothes were a mess, his neck was stiff, and his stomach was about to eat itself out of hunger, plus he kind of wanted to die of embarrassment because Yifan was looking oh-so-satisfied with himself-but Lu Han felt great. He felt fantastic.
Zitao’s shoulder bumped fondly into his as they made their unimpressive escape from the classroom.
“Sorry about your piercing,” said Lu Han. They’d been stuck inside the lab for a total of three hours and still Lu Han didn’t manage to work up the courage. Although Zitao didn’t really push for it-Lu Han just didn’t want to make him lose out on something he’d been looking forward to.
“Eh,” said Zitao, shrugging. “This was way better, anyway.”
“What was?”
Zitao rolled his eyes, and grabbed Lu Han’s wrist. “So dumb,” he said, shaking his head. But he sounded really happy.
next
Summary: see previous part.
Notes: More fic! More fluff!! More great art from karedon!!!
Half-court Shot
“FOUL!” Lu Han called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Ref! You’re blind! That was a foul! BOOOO!”
Beside him, Yixing stuck out two thumbs down. The rest of the audience were jeering too, upset that one of the defensemen from the opposing team had knocked Yifan in the ribs when they bumped into each other. But the referee hadn’t called it even though Yifan had fallen down, maybe because it’d looked accidental. On the court, Yifan gave a disappointed shake of his head, laying a careful hand on his side. Soryoung ran by, slapping him on the back and saying something in his ear, and Yifan nodded, wincing. He looked back towards their bench.
Coach Youngmin waved him in. Yifan frowned, but trotted over just as Zitao stood up.
“They’re subbing Yifan for Tao?” a student nearby asked. “We’re screwed.”
Lu Han whipped around, frowning at the person. “We’ll be fine! Zitao’s good! He’s been pulling his weight the entire time!”
“He’s not nearly as good as Yifan though,” the guy said.
“Yifan has been playing over half the game,” Yixing said. “You can tell he’s tired. And they probably want to check if he’s actually injured.”
“Hope he isn’t, because I don’t think a rookie’s going to pull us ahead before the game’s over.”
“Just watch,” Lu Han argued. “Zitao’s going to surprise you.”
Zitao took that moment to look up to the benches. He seemed a bit nervous, eyes darting around, and it pushed Lu Han to stand up and scream, “HUANG ZITAO! YOU’RE GOING TO BE GREAT!”
Yixing raised a thumb to press against his left ear. Lu Han wasn’t sorry. Zitao heard him, waving one bendy arm up at Lu Han, a grin splitting his face.
Lu Han sat back down, breathless.
This was the most exciting basketball game he’d ever sat in. Usually he’d only bother to attend if it was a playoff game, or if he was truly desperate for a reason to get out of the house, but this season seemed especially intense right from the get-go. He didn't used to get this much into it, screaming his lungs out at every opportunity, clapping his hands raw, but it was fun. Yifan always rolled his eyes when Lu Han and Yixing cheered for him, but Zitao soaked it up the attention like an actor on a stage. The few times he’d been sent into the game, Lu Han had made sure that every play he’d made was met with obnoxious applause, and he could tell that it was really boosting Zitao’s spirits.
Their team was losing 90-86, but that was okay. Lu Han would obviously prefer it if they won, but a defeat here wasn’t the end of the world. They were still leading their school district in overall points. Last year’s team had started low and ended high, but this year they seemed to have exploded out of the stables with the intent to dominate and take no mercy. Lu Han wasn’t sure if it was their coach pushing them this hard because of his own emotional agenda, striving for one last championship before his star player got snatched away to university, but the end result was good sport entertainment.
Even Minseok was tied to the game. The opposing team fouled again, but they were caught this time, and as soon as a whistle blew for a penalty shot, Lu Han yanked out his cell phone to update Minseok on the score.
subbed Yifan out for tao. down 4 pts. 8 min left!!!!!!
Minseok immediately replied, we’ll win
“Minseok says we’ll win!” Lu Han crowed, hitting Yixing’s shoulder.
“Why wouldn’t he? It’s an easy thing to say when you’re not watching the game,” said Yixing.
“Are you saying we won’t win?” Lu Han accused.
Yixing shrugged complacently. “It was a good game either way.”
“You’re the most boring spectator on the planet. I can’t believe I dragged you with me.”
“I can’t really believe it either,” said Yixing. “You should have sat with the cheerleaders. If you borrowed a uniform you’d fit right in.” He cast a sly glance at Lu Han’s bright yellow top and equally garish sneakers. “Actually…”
“Of course I’d wear school colours!” Lu Han cried, and nearly missed seeing the next shot.
The whistle sounded.
Daeryoung had scored a three-pointer.
Their entire side of the gym erupted. “YES!” Lu Han screamed, ecstatic. Daeryoung high-fived with Soryoung and the two of them did their weird celebratory shoulder dance, to the audience’s raucous approval.
WE GOT 3 PTS! 4 MIN LEFTTT Lu Han furiously texted Minseok. When he looked back up, Daeryoung was jogging to the bench, and exchanging a fistbump with Yifan.
“Oh,” said Yixing. “Guess they’re letting him back on? Is this good or not?”
“I don’t know,” said Lu Han. Yifan was noticeably tired. Grim-faced and heavy-jawed, a few strands of hair had escaped his tiny ponytail, flopping over his sweatband, and Yifan was too preoccupied to even push them back. Youngmin called for a time-out, gathering the entire team close to lay out one last plan of attack. Zitao automatically slid in beside Yifan, resting one arm around Yifan's shoulders. Yifan turned to whisper something to him, pointing at the gameplay diagram their coach was holding out, and Zitao grimaced, shaking his head. Yifan said something else, and Zitao pouted.
Lu Han was tense. What were they talking about? Were they going to try something Zitao didn’t want to do?
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “HEY! TAOZI!”
Zitao’s head jerked up and he caught Lu Han’s eye, surprised.
Lu Han aimed his best, most cheesy thumbs up and Zitao burst out laughing. Yifan looked up at them too, so Lu Han gestured to his own head and said, “YOUR PONYTAIL IS UGLY.” Yifan frowned, but that just made Zitao laugh harder.
The huddle broke and Zitao walked to his position still smiling.
“Let’s do this!” Lu Han heard Yifan roar in English, and the whistle blew to restart the game.
The timer started counting down. Minute one passed in a mass collision of angry limbs and squeaking sneakers. The second minute ticked through and the gym started swelling with noise, not just from the shouting players, but the crowds, encouraging their home team, taunting the rivals. By the third minute, sweat was running down Yifan's and Zitao’s faces, their mouths open and panting. Yifan was pointing his team left and right, spinning crazily whenever he had the ball, shoving his way through the opposing defensemen, a tornado concentrated in 186cm of skinny arms and thick legs. The opponents gathered on him, like hyenas swarming over a carcass, and Yifan burst through underneath, running up to the net-
Less than one minute on the clock. He pivoted and tossed the ball back-
Zitao caught it. Jumped up. Shot from the three-point line.
The ball went in.
The whistle blew. The gym cracked open with renewed screams. Zitao jumped again, punching the air in triumph. He ran towards Yifan, and they slammed into each other, smiles a mile wide, before bouncing back to half-court. The game wasn’t over, but there were only thirty seconds left and they managed to hang on for a final score of 91-90.
When the game-ending buzzer sounded, Lu Han thought he would tear his throat open from screaming so loudly. Even Yixing was on his feet, stomping and whooping, spinning his fist in a circle. The team all leapt on Zitao, ruffling his hair and patting his back, hooking sweaty arms around his neck and tugging him all over the place like a rag doll. Yifan hung back a little, trying to tamper down his own smile, and was caught off guard when Zitao slipped out of the mass of hysterical bodies to practically collide into him, arms going around Yifan's neck, gleeful face tucking into Yifan's shoulder. Yifan froze for a second before his own arms circled Zitao’s waist, and he rubbed Zitao’s back gently.
They must have stood like that for two, three, maybe four seconds. Eons, really. Even while the rest of the gym around him was going of its collective mind about the great game that had just finished, Lu Han felt something inside him fall quiet, shrivel up, and drop heavily to the bottom of his stomach.
He sank back down to his seat slowly. Yifan and Zitao walked off the court together, Zitao’s arm still glued to Yifan's shoulders.
Fingers touched Lu Han’s wrist.
“So, about that non-existent crush,” Yixing said. He wasn’t teasing. He looked worried.
“Yeah, about that,” Lu Han muttered.
His pocket buzzed.
did we win?? Minseok had texted, along with a fainting hamster sticker.
yep, Lu Han wrote back. He added a line of cheering dogs, punctuated with a weeping girl, but his heart wasn’t really in it.
-
So things had taken a bit of a U-turn.
The problem with stomping down a burgeoning crush was that it was easier said than done. Especially when the target of your affections kept on presenting himself to you, day after day, doing cute things like giggle behind his hand, stuff too many dumplings into his mouth to close it properly, or lean over your shoulder to pull ugly faces right by your own. It was like trying to keep to a diet in the middle of a Parisian bakery. How was Lu Han expected to estrange his interest when Zitao kept on hanging around, doing interesting things? Even when he was just sitting there, batting at Yifan's shoulders like a bratty child, Lu Han couldn't help being amused. And as a result of attempting emotionally detachment, Lu Han found himself more attuned to shallow things, like how well Zitao's uniform always fit his body-there were no loose shoulders like Lu Han’s, no baggy pant legs like Yixing’s, no slightly-too-short cuffs like Yifan's. Zitao’s body was a marvel of human biology, and the confidence with which he carried himself was the icing on the cake. Lu Han’s now go-to mantra of “just a friend, just a friend” was pointless against the attraction to Zitao’s physicality that had pulled Lu Han’s eye to Zitao in the first place.
And it wasn’t just Lu Han who was noticing it these days.
Spurred on by netting the game-winning point at the most recent heart-stopping win of the school’s basketball team, Zitao’s popularity among the student population skyrocketed to crazy heights. He’d been recognized before as the martial arts kid who had an extreme fashion sense, but now that he’d aligned himself with Yifan and his team, people knew his name, not just his face. Now it wasn’t Yifan the basketball captain and Yixing the musical prodigy and Lu Han the soccer star anymore. It was Yifan, Yixing, Lu Han, and Zitao too, the new kid on the block who everyone was keeping an eye on, consciously or not. An unexpected fourth in their long-standing trifecta.
Zitao loved it, of course. And Lu Han loved seeing him happy, but-it was a strange feeling, to be jealous of everybody, and at the same time, nobody.
Lu Han felt possessive, and he felt ridiculous that he felt possessive, and he tried everything he could to convince himself out of his possessiveness in the spirit of unpolluted friendship-but he’d found Zitao first. Before Zitao had even stepped foot into the halls of their school, he was screwing up Lu Han’s bubble tea orders behind the counter of Rainbow Café and having trouble meeting Lu Han’s eyes when he inevitably spilt something again. Lu Han wanted to be the one to be able to touch Zitao casually, make Zitao turn towards him just by calling his name. He already had to hold himself back from bullying Zitao just to instigate him-he had this compulsive need to confirm that Zitao thought of Lu Han specially because he would laugh, not sneer, whenever Lu Han gave him a punch to the shoulder.
But however much Zitao liked Lu Han, he still liked Yifan more. The ocean currents that ran through the school seemed to have swept Zitao firmly into Yifan's borders, so that during lunch break, after school, at club meetings, wherever one of them was, the other one was sure to be nearby-two tryhards fond of wearing pretentious shades despite how much of a poser it made them look. They encouraged each other's most eye-roll-worthy habits; they seemed lost in their own little world most days.
Why on earth did Lu Han want either of their company again?
The thought made an image of Zitao’s curling grin slam through his mind like an avalanche. Oh yeah.
“I think Yifan is breaking up with us,” sighed Lu Han, kicking at Yixing’s piano bench. “He never returns my pokes anymore.”
“Maybe he is,” Yixing said, “but can’t this maudlin discussion wait until I’m done practise?”
Lu Han gestured to the encompassing music practise room and its brown-padded walls. “No way! I need you to play a bunch of pop songs to hype up my mood. Otherwise I’m going to go on a sugar spree.”
“Oh no,” deadpanned Yixing. “You’re so annoying when you’re on a sugar high.”
“You know what to do then! How about some DBSK? Balloons? Can you play Zion on your guitar?”
Yixing sighed, and tapped out the first few notes of Love in the Ice.
“But that's so sad, I don't want that,” said Lu Han.
“I don’t want you here very much either, but I’m dealing with you anyway,” said Yixing. He took his hands off the keys and spun around to face Lu Han dead on. He slapped his palms on Lu Han’s knees. “What’s going on? You reassured me-very vehemently-after that game that you were totally, one hundred and ten thousand percent-your words-fine and not interested in Zitao romantically.”
“So?” Lu Han whined.
“And, just to remind you, in the two weeks after our dinner with Zitao, both Yifan and I asked you multiple times if you were really not going to make a move on Zitao, and you told us that you had no intention of pursuing him.”
“Why can you remember details about my life so well but you can’t find your cell phone when it’s right in your lap?”
“The point is,” Yixing continued, “that you’re either in deep denial about wanting to be with Zitao, or you’ve been harbouring the hots for Yifan for however many years we’ve known him. Alternatively,” he added, when Lu Han pretended to vomit at the Yifan suggestion, “you could also just be losing your mind. So.” He slowed down his words, the same way Lu Han once heard him speak to a very lost toddler. “Why is Zitao and Yifan's friendship bothering you so much?
“But why doesn’t it bother you?!” Lu Han exploded, jabbing a finger at Yixing. “Yifan is your boyfriend and he’s spending all his time with this hot new guy! Don’t you care?”
Yixing’s face turned slightly pained. “Yifan isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Not this again. You love him a disgusting amount. He’s your boyfriend.”
“By that definition, you’re my boyfriend too.”
Lu Han shook his head. “Aw, Xing Xing,” he chided, ruffling Yixing’s hair. “We’ve had this conversation. You lost your chance with me when you asked me if Manchester United was a political party.”
Yixing quickly pecked Lu Han on the lips, just to see him recoil. Lu Han recoiled. “Ew! Your mouth has touched Yifan's dick!”
“The reason that I’m not jealous of Zitao and Yifan,” Yixing said, “is because I know Yifan isn’t interested in Zitao like that. He’s just flattered that someone looks up to him as much as Zitao seems to, even though I think he’s a bit overwhelmed with all the attention.”
“What if you’re wrong and they elope,” suggested Lu Han. “Hasn’t Yifan always wanted to elope?”
Yixing didn’t take the bait. “You and I have grown up with that idiot. Just because I’ve seen him naked more times than you have doesn’t mean you don’t know him as well as I do. You can tell he doesn’t like Zitao like that, right?”
Lu Han lowered his eyes to Yixing’s calm hands, cupping his jittery knees. “Yeah.”
“So what’s really bothering you here is that Zitao is spending so much time with Yifan, right?”
Lu Han said nothing.
“Lu Han.”
“He really likes Yifan,” Lu Han heard himself say. “I’m not envious of that. I’m happy Yifan is helping Zitao fit in and do well in school and stuff. But Zitao seems to like him so much. What if he doesn’t grow out of Yifanitis?”
Yixing’s eyes were very warm, and very sad. “That’s not something you can control, unfortunately. Zitao’s feelings are his own business.” He gently squeezed Lu Han’s thighs.
“I don’t want to see him hurt,” admitted Lu Han.
“Yeah. I get that.”
“Yifan is a loser. Zitao’s going to be disappointed when he finally figures that out.”
“Probably.”
Lu Han's voice quieted. He mumbled, “And-and I think I do like him, but I don’t know what to do about that.”
Yixing sighed in sympathy. "If you’d like Yifan and I to make out in front of Zitao or something,” he offered.
“Really? That’s a great idea,” said Lu Han, blinking.
“I was kidding. We’re not going to do that.”
“You should! It’d get the point across right away.”
Yixing took a while to answer. He said carefully, “I don’t think Yifan would be very comfortable with that. Besides, I don’t think that he knows that Zitao has a crush on him. I’m pretty sure he thinks they’re just good friends.”
Lu Han groaned. “And he calls me the idiot? He’s always like this! He won’t admit that other people like him until they’re, like, stuffing Valentine chocolates into his locker or something in the middle of November. He’s so stubborn.”
“He’s not very smart, no,” agreed Yixing. “But it might be purposeful on his part. He can claim ignorance for a lot of stuff this way.”
“That’s so selfish. When is he going to get the fuck over himself and just admit it already that he’s only into you? It’d solve so many of his issues.”
“We’re getting back to the complications of other people’s feelings,” said Yixing. He sounded weary. “I can’t control Yifan anymore than you can control Zitao. We’ve just got to trust that they’ll figure themselves out some day.”
Yixing’s smile was encouraging, but slightly weighed down at the edges-maybe by his own insecurities. The tangled yarn ball of his and Yifan's not-really-a-non-relationship had so many frayed ends-missed opportunities, unspoken truths, easy way outs-that Lu Han wondered how Yixing kept sane with it all. Lu Han was probably the only person on earth to whom those two could admit how much they cared about each other, and they still held back.
Maybe this was why Yixing was so undisturbed in the face of Zitao and Yifan's cheesy after-school romance: he was used to not being demonstrative, to putting others’ needs ahead of his own, of not making a fuss. To say Yifan was shy about what the two of them had was a vast understatement, but Yixing trusted in his own understanding of Yifan. So over the years, in lieu of getting reassurances from sappy declarations of devotion or couple rings and matching earrings that normal couples might share, Yixing cultivated an impenetrable conviction inside himself of Yifan's True Feelings based on arm touches and secret glances: that he would always come back to Yixing, in the end.
Which-of course he would. Yifan was barely Yifan without Zhang Yixing’s shoulder to lean on.
Lu Han reached out abruptly, needing to feel Yixing’s solid warmth under his arms, the one real thing he knew he could always count on, no matter what stormy waters the world plunged them into. Yixing hugged back, then reached up a hand to tweak Lu Han’s ear. He said, “Let’s be optimistic. Maybe the better question is, what’s going to happen if Zitao does grow out of Yifanitis?” He looked at Lu Han significantly. “I think he’d appreciate having a friend to help cheer him up, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han said. He cleared the lump in his throat. Back to square one.
-
Two days later, Lu Han emerged from the school after soccer practise and noticed a familiar spiky blond head dotting the bench by the bus stop. Yifan was slouched like a B-grade fashion model; he had one earbud plugged in, shades on, and looked like he could fall asleep right on the bench.
“Did your car break down?” Lu Han asked, walking up behind him. He swung his backpack into Yifan's head.
“It’s fine,” said Yifan, immediately yanking it off and patting down his hair. “I was waiting for you. Want a ride home?”
“What kind of dumbass question is that?” Lu Han grinned. “You could have just texted me.”
“I did,” said Yifan. “You didn’t answer.”
Lu Han took out his phone and blinked at its black screen. “Oh, it died.”
Yifan sighed and stood up with the physical weariness of a ninety-year old. He hooked Lu Han’s bag over his shoulder and Lu Han gave him a little pat on the butt to get him walking.
“So what’s the occasion? This is being awfully hospitable, even for you,” said Lu Han, following Yifan across the street.
Yifan's eyebrows twitched. “Yixing thinks we need to talk.”
Lu Han nearly tripped over himself. “Oh, uh-”
“About Zitao.”
Something stuttered oddly in Lu Han’s chest. He bit his lip. “What’s there to talk about?”
“If you think I’ll care if you guys start going out-” Yifan started.
“I don’t want to go out with Tao!”
“Come on,” said Yifan. “Yixing told me that you wilted like a flower after the basketball game, when Zitao didn’t-”
“I hate it when you compare me to flowers.”
Yifan turned to face him. “Don’t avoid the subject. I’m trying to say that if you’re holding back because you feel any-if you’re nervous about my reaction or something...” he trailed off.
“Why would I be nervous about that?” Lu Han said, gaping. The last time Lu Han saw Yifan look this uncomfortable, Yifan had been trying to make up a plausible excuse for why he was carrying a bunch of porno magazines in his gym bag, while Lu Han and Yixing were ducked around the corner and desperately muffling their laughter. It hadn’t been an intentional prank-Lu Han had gotten dared to buy the magazines but none of the store clerks believed that he was above legal age, so he wheedled Yixing to do it for him. That day it so happened that Yixing was delivering the gym bag Yifan had left at his house over the weekend, and Yixing just automatically stuffed the magazines inside without thinking of the consequences. The whole incident actually ended up raising Yifan's cred amongst his team, but Yifan had been pissed for weeks.
Well, days. The three of them had never been able to stay angry at each other for very long.
Maybe that’s why Yifan was looking distinctly constipated when he said, “Zitao-we hang out a lot and we get along pretty well, so I don’t know if you’re assuming that, uh, I have some authority over him as team captain-because truthfully-”
“Oh my god, stop,” said Lu Han, waving his arms like an airport traffic controller. “As if I'd think stuff like that!”
Yifan's shoulders slumped heavily with relief. “That’s what I told Yixing. But he said that I was being really inconsiderate of your feelings.”
“That nosy do-gooder,” muttered Lu Han. "Shouldn't have told him a thing."
“Just admit it already, Lu Han, there’s no reason to not let yourself-"
“I mean, okay, fine, maybe I like him, but-”
“See, that's good. I don’t see the point of hiding it from us and-”
“And okay! It’s not nerves or anything, but maybe I am a little-just a little-peeved at you. But not at you, really. Just things that you-as a person-choose to... uh. Do.”
Yifan's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “I’m… confused,” he said.
Lu Han couldn’t meet his eyes. “Like… maybe you could stop… leading him on. Um.”
Yifan grabbed his arm. Lu Han winced. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” Yifan asked.
“Not on purpose,” Lu Han protested, pulling away. “I know you’re being nice, because you’re a nice person. But Zitao seems to really be, uh, picking up on that? And responding to it?”
“That’s a good thing,” said Yifan, but he sounded doubtful.
“Yeah,” said Lu Han. “Um. But he’ll think you like him.” Catching the defensiveness on Yifan's face, he added hastily, “Seriously like him.”
“Zitao isn’t even interested in me like that.”
Hearing that was unbelievable. “Are you stupid?” Lu Han said. “It’s so obvious he does.”
Yifan's expression turned a little aggrieved. “I think he admires me a lot. Actually, I know he does. The other day I overheard him telling the other guys on the team that he thought I was cool. It was really very awkward. But it doesn’t mean that he has a crush on me.”
Lu Han wanted to laugh. “I'm pretty sure it’s a good indication he does.”
“Zitao’s weird though. He really feeds off other people’s acknowledgement.”
“So? That means he can't like you?”
“I didn’t say that,” said Yifan. “I’m saying that just because he admires me because I’m his captain and I pay attention to him, you shouldn’t assume that he’s interested in me romantically. Because he’s not. He likes you too, you know.”
Lu Han stared at him. “Don’t be offended, but you’re a shit judge on whether people like you or not. Remember Jongdae?”
Yifan pouted. “That wasn’t my fault. He was mean usually, so of course I noticed it more when he was nice to me.”
“He was like that towards everyone! He didn’t have some special hot-and-cold infatuation with just you! He didn’t even apologize when he stepped on your new high-tops that one time and got them all muddy.”
“Oh yeah,” said Yifan. “I remember that.” He rubbed at his neck.
“And remember Baekhyun? He always acted so cutesy to you, and you thought he was just playing around.”
Yifan scowled a little, then said, “Well, he was, wasn’t he? It wasn’t a serious thing anyway.”
Lu Han shoved him. “If you don’t believe me about Zitao liking you, you should just fucking ask him yourself!”
“I think you need to reconsider Zitao’s behaviour. It’s not like he doesn’t respond well to you, either.”
“It’s different,” Lu Han muttered. Zitao laughed with Lu Han, and they had a good time playing with each other, sure, but it was incomparable to the way that he interacted with Yifan.
“Also. If he liked me, wouldn’t he have asked me out already?” asked Yifan. “He, uh, doesn’t know about Yixing, I don’t think.”
“OH AND ABOUT THAT,” Lu Han said. “Can you stop spending so much time with your boy toy and more with your boyfriend?”
A vague cloud of nausea passed over Yifan's face. “Yixing’s not my boyfriend.”
“Please, not this, anything but this,” moaned Lu Han.
“He’s not,” protested Yifan. “We’re just… I don’t know. We’re not boyfriends.”
“But Zitao is your boy toy?” Lu Han shot back.
They reached Yifan's car. “I changed my mind,” said Yifan. “You can bus home after all.”
Lu Han’s jaw dropped. “Don’t you dare, Wu Yifan!”
Yifan gave him an unimpressed look and opened the driver’s side door, slipping inside. He didn’t unlock the passenger door. Lu Han slapped at the window. “You dick! My bus has probably already left by now! Let me in!”
Yifan put on his sunglasses and checked his hair in the rear view mirror.
“You can’t be mad just because I said you don’t know how to read other people’s feelings!”
Yifan took out his cell phone.
“Fine, oh my god,” said Lu Han. “You’re an awesome judge of character and you’re right about all your delusions and Zitao’s not into you and Yixing isn’t your boyfriend and you’re really handsome and that new sweater you bought last weekend definitely doesn’t make you look like a homeless drug dealer.”
Yifan reached over and unlocked the door. “I would’ve been happy with, ‘Yes I will re-evaluate Zitao’s opinion of me,’ but the other stuff was good too.”
“You make no sense. Who’s even the me in that sentence?” Lu Han grumbled, sitting down with as much petulant indignation as he could manage.
“It’s you,” said Yifan. “Because I’m pretty sure he’s interested in you.”
-
There was admittedly a long list of people from whom Lu Han would solicit advice before he would go to Yifan, not because Yifan gave bad advice, but because their personalities were so different that their opinions never aligned on anything. Sometimes, though, something Yifan said would penetrate through the bubbles in Lu Han’s head and strike a chord in him, like a stuck thorn. Then Lu Han would inevitably find himself following Yifan's suggestion to the tee even though he didn’t particularly want to. There was just some irksome about Yifan taking an authoritative, older-brother-esque role for Lu Han, even though Lu Han had no problem listening to Yixing or Minseok.
This time, he blamed it on his crush. Maybe it was masochistic of him, but he was already invested. Yifan said that Zitao was interested in him and Lu Han doubted that, but what if? What if Yifan was right? The question consumed him; Lu Han had to see for himself. His resolution to not start a relationship with Zitao now felt like an outdated law next to his need to know. This was about understanding. This was about exploring every avenue on the roadmap of Zitao. Lu Han would just have to deal with the disappointment, when it came.
At 6:10 on a school day, the Rainbow Bubble Tea Café was fit to burst. A lot of students swung by in their spare hours between classes and extracurriculars to get a sugar boost before getting to go home for dinner. It meant that Zitao, who was on shift today, barely had the time to toss a grin and a wave at Lu Han before he was swept back into taking customer orders. Lu Han parked himself by the wall where the line-up ended and took out his phone. He passed a few minutes spam-texting Minseok as he shuffled forward in line. After a while, when Minseok still didn’t reply, Lu Han looked up and saw a flip of dark hair as Zitao, all the way at the counter, turned quickly away from Lu Han’s direction.
Lu Han felt a grasshopper leap up in his stomach.
Last year, back when Sehun was still working up the nerve to ask Lu Han out, there had been a cute and slightly embarrassing trend of Lu Han catching Sehun staring at him when he thought Lu Han wasn’t paying attention. Lu Han hadn’t known how to handle that quiet, yet unabashed attraction. Like Yifan, he was used to being admired from a distance from giggling girls, who enjoyed him as an image more than as a person. Sehun, though, although there was a similarly coy side of him, hadn’t been afraid to get close to Lu Han, taking up all of Lu Han’s field of view, usurping Lu Han’s time and energy-but it was during those flash instances, when Lu Han would see the naked affection Sehun had for him marked unmistakeably across Sehun’s often blank face, that it would hit him: that kid really, really liked him.
And there was a genuineness in Sehun that Lu Han had always resonated with.
Maybe that was part of what pulled him towards Zitao, too.
“Ayo, Lu Zi,” Zitao grinned, when Lu Han finally reached the order counter.
Lu Han twitched. “What did you call me?”
“Lu Zi, Lu Zi. That’s your name now.”
“Eat shit,” Lu Han said. “You can call me Lord Lu or nothing.”
Zitao stuck out his tongue. “What drink can I get for you then, Loser Lu? The usual taro with pearls?”
“I’m going to write a complaint about you to Xin jie! And yes. I want a slice of coffee cake too.”
“Coming right up. Go find a table, I’ll bring it to you.”
“Okay.” Lu Han took out his wallet, but Zitao was already turning away.
“You never give me a chance to pay you back for our dinner,” he said. He waved Lu Han off. “My treat for sure today!”
Lu Han smiled, lowering his hands. “All right. Thanks, then.” But he quickly stuffed the money in the tip jar before Zitao noticed.
-
“Taro milk tea with extra pearls, and a large slice of coffee cake.” Zitao put both drink and dish onto the tiny table Lu Han had managed to hoard, then sat himself down too.
“I didn’t order any company,” Lu Han laughed, grabbing the tea and taking a long, satisfying sip.
“You’re lucky to get it!” Zitao said. “I’m on break. You are blessed with my handsome presence for ten minutes.”
“You’re working pretty hard,” Lu Han remarked. “You’ve been on shift practically every day this week.” Not that Lu Han had been stalking Zitao’s schedule or anything. He was just training a lot for soccer, which inevitably brought him by the café a lot. It was totally legitimate.
Zitao leaned back, face smug. “Yep! I need the money. I’m saving up for something.”
“Oh? Intriguing. What is it?”
“A secret,” Zitao said, holding a finger up to his lips. “You’ll find out soon. Very soon, even.”
“Why a secret?”
“Because it’ll be so much cooler if you only see the finished product!”
“Hope it’s not more gaudy jewelry.”
Zitao was dumbstruck. “My jewelry isn’t gaudy!”
“It really is.”
“My jewelry is-it’s fashionable, you know! It’s me making a statement.”
“And that statement is…” Lu Han asked, raising his eyebrows.
“That I’m awesome! Handsome and charismatic Huang Zitao.” Zitao grinned, wiggling his shoulders in delight. “They attract attention, right? And make me look good. Then people can look at me and see how great I am.”
Lu Han coughed out his tea. “Are you kidding me? You of all people don’t need flashy jewelry to prove that!” Zitao blinked and Lu Han froze, one hand catching the liquid dribbling down his chin. “Uh.” Zitao looked as surprised as Lu Han felt.
They stared at each other for a second, stunned, but then Zitao ducked his head and gave an odd-sounding giggle. He covered his face with his hands. “Wow, that almost sounded genuine.”
Lu Han put down his bubble tea. He cleared this throat. “That’s-um, because it was.” His face felt like it was on fire.
“Oh,” said Zitao.
“Mm,” Lu Han grunted.
“Thanks.”
“You’re… welcome,” managed Lu Han without dying. “Anytime.”
Zitao peered at him curiously. He braced an arm on the tiny table keeping the distance between them and leaned in close. “You’re not... are you flirting with me?”
It was as if someone had poured a bucket of lava down the back of Lu Han’s collar. He burst out in nervous laughter, heart jackhammering in his chest. “Hah, what-what? No way! I mean-it wasn’t on purpose, not that I would never want to-anyway, you started this conversation! It’s not like you’re flirting with me.”
Zitao opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, a strange expression dawning across his face. It was half panic, half confusion, but there was a trace of bashfulness in the way he suddenly dropped his gaze. He bit his lip.
“Unless,” Lu Han said, strangled, “you were?”
“So what if I was?” Zitao asked the table, very quietly. Before Lu Han could straighten out his brain to spit out an answer, Zitao had already pushed to his feet. He shot a quick smile at Lu Han, and it was fragile and uncertain in all the ways that Lu Han didn’t associate with Zitao. “I’m kidding,” he said, sounding overly flippant. “I’ve got to get back to work. See you at school tomorrow? Bye.”
He ran across the store and disappeared into the back room before Lu Han could call him to wait.
Lu Han slowly leaned back in his chair. His heart was still thrumming on overtime, as if he’d winded himself running. He stared at the empty seat Zitao had just vacated and slowly felt his cheeks stretch to let out an incredulous laugh.
Fuck. Did this mean he’d have to admit to Yifan that he’d been right?
-
“Ssshhh.” Lips meandered slowly down his chest, kissing every few centimetres. Lu Han shifted, lifting up his hips. There was a giggle. “Stop. Hold still, I said. Be quiet.”
“I am quiet.”
Another giggle. Teeth, nipping at his skin. Lu Han jumped again, but warm hands held him down this time, pinning him heavily to the bed. “Ssshh. Calm down, wow. We’re just getting started.”
Lu Han felt a tongue dip into his belly button, hot like molten steel. He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his moan.
Zitao’s hands dragged down his sides, nails scratching, and dug into the meat of Lu Han’s thighs. He was so low now that if Lu Han bucked up his hips, his crotch would rub against Zitao’s Adam’s apple. Lu Han tried not to whimper. He kept his right hand covering his open mouth, but let the other sink into the dark mess of Zitao’s hair, tugging just enough to make Zitao hum.
Blood was rushing through Lu Han’s ears, blurring his senses. It felt like the world was playing on fast forward and slowed down all at once-every brush of Zitao’s hot skin against his was never long enough, and yet it seemed like centuries were passing between every inch Zitao slid down the bed. Zitao’s weight on Lu Han’s legs were too much of a tease, and his hot breath fanning on the cloth of Lu Han’s briefs was roasting him alive.
“Zitao-” Lu Han moaned.
“No, really, be quiet or you’re going to ruin this,” Zitao said fondly, and nuzzled his face in the dip of Lu Han’s hipbone. Lu Han’s other hand slammed down to clench on the bed sheets.
“Just-right there, I-”
Zitao’s black eyes darted up to meet Lu Han’s.
“Here?” he asked, then laid his lips over right where Lu Han was straining most.
“Ah!” Lu Han cried, grip tightening-
He opened his eyes.
It was dark in his room. He fumbled automatically for his cell phone, turning on the screen to read the time. 5:12 am. Great.
Lu Han sighed. This was getting out of hand. It was the third dirty dream this week, and this one had felt exceptionally real, to the point that he swore he could feel Zitao’s body heat lingering on his skin.
Was it because of today’s abruptly-ended conversation at the café?
By the time Lu Han had returned home that evening, the high of figuring out that his attraction to Zitao wasn’t entirely one-sided had waned, diluting into a giddy sort of nausea. Because what did this mean, now? What was Lu Han supposed to do? It was nearing November, so realistically, they could have quite a few months together if they started going out. But what if Lu Han was never able to think about their relationship without worrying about a deadline?
He’d gotten together with Sehun in December of last year; stupidly, the thought of their time limit hadn’t occurred to him until halfway through March-after that realization, everything had shifted into a sharper focus. Suddenly it felt like every last minute together had the taste of being their last one, even though he logically knew it wasn’t. There had been a bad week when just the sight of Sehun walking away from him had made Lu Han’s guts wrench horribly. He couldn’t help it. When he fell in love, it was falling like a pit-Lu Han went in deep. When he fell in love, he-
Lu Han’s brain caught, then spun back like a broken record.
He’d never actually thought of the word ‘love’ with Zitao before.
But that was it, wasn’t it?
He attended Yifan's basketball games to cheer on Zitao. He thought about Zitao, a lot, about Zitao’s lips and eyes and girly laugh and random violent tendencies, and Zitao’s profile framed by an afternoon-sun-lit window. The first time he had hung out with Zitao for a significant amount of time, the two of them had spent more time competing against each other’s appetites than actually speaking-and it had been really fun. He found Zitao’s immaturity hilarious instead of exasperating. Lu Han’s body always stiffened weirdly whenever Zitao focused the full brunt of his magnetic energy on him.
He’d long forgotten what it was like to visit Rainbow Café solely for the bubble tea.
Lu Han thumped both his palms on his bedspread restlessly. This circling around was stupid, he had to make a decision: either he got over Zitao or not. Repressing his feelings during the day and dreaming about him at night wasn't doing Lu Han any favours, obviously. If anything, it was making things worse, because Lu Han would get flashes of his dreams during the day and then remember all over again that those scenarios were firmly in the realm of fantasy. But after today with Zitao, Lu Han felt sick with hope, like he'd amazingly been granted a key to the door to wonderland, if only he had the courage to unlock it and step through.
He wasn't sure he did. But he really wanted to.
Lu Han closed his eyes again and thought of Zitao's smile.
-
When Yifan sat down beside him with his lunch tray, Lu Han slid it away before Yifan could even open his water bottle.
Yifan pursed his lips. “Yes?” he asked, unenthused. “Is there something wrong, Lu Han?”
“Have you seen Zitao today?”
Yifan grabbed his lunch back. “You do realize the two of us have the exact same classes, right?”
“Answer the question, smart guy.”
“I haven’t,” said Yifan. “No practise today, no other plans. I was thinking of catching a movie, though. Want to go?”
“No,” Lu Han said immediately. “Can you call Zitao? I think he might be sick. Because he’s not answering my texts or anything.”
“Or maybe his phone is dead, like yours always is when I try to get in touch with you.”
“Or maybe he’s dead because he got into a car crash while biking to school and you’re going to regret not taking this seriously!”
Yifan's face was the definition of long-suffering. He flipped out his phone and flicked up Zitao’s name, dialing its number.
Lu Han pressed his ear to the other side of Yifan's phone. Zitao picked up after the fifth ring. “Hey, what’s up?”
Yifan frowned a bit. “You sound out of breath. Are you at school?”
“Not… really.”
“So you’re skipping.”
“It’s lunch time! I’m not skipping.”
“Were you in school this morning?”
“Weeeelll,” said Zitao. “I’m running errands. Very important! An hour of lunch wasn’t enough time, so I left after English.”
“So you left after your first class of the day.”
“But I didn’t skip the entire day, so give me credit for that!”
Yifan sighed. “Are you coming back later? You can’t keep on skipping classes for work. You should focus on grades too, not just money.”
“Thanks for the useless lecture.”
“Look. You’ve got Lu Han worried. He told me you’re not responding to his texts.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “I will!” Zitao blurted. His voice cracked. “I just-I haven’t had time, okay? I’ll reply soon. Tell him not to worry so much about me.”
“That’s not going to work.”
“Then tell him I’ll see him later! I’m coming back as soon as I finish this one thing, okay? Stop nagging me.”
“Good. Text me when you’re here.”
“I just said to stop nagging me!”
“Don’t get into too much trouble.”
“You’re ugly and you smell bad!” Zitao said, and hung up.
Yifan lowered his phone and raised his eyebrows at Lu Han. “Satisfied?”
“I guess,” said Lu Han. So he’d just have to wait, then. That kind of sucked. Not that he was in a rush or anything, but the more time that passed, the more nerve Lu Han lost. This morning he'd made the resolution to confess to Zitao and it was tearing apart his insides with anxiety. Yixing approached the table with his lunch and Lu Han aimed a finger at him. “Hey, buddy. This is on you if I screw up today! Keep that in mind!”
“Screw up what?” Yixing asked.
Lu Han’s eyes widened. Oh yeah. He hadn’t actually told Yixing about his plan yet. He’d carried out an entire imaginary conversation with him on the bus ride to school, complete with debate, name-calling, and hesitant resolution, eventually cementing Lu Han’s decision to confess, but this was the first time he’d seen Yixing all day.
“Um. Nothing?”
Yixing laughed the way he did when something completely flew over his head. “If you say so.”
Lu Han was about to revise himself, but he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He snatched it out.
hey sorry for not replying, Zitao had written. yea let’s meet up after school today ill show u that surprise i talked about ytd!!
Lu Han read through the message twice, then took a deep breath. nw. sounds good, he typed, and his thumb only shook a little when he clicked send.
-
By the time the final bell rang for school, Lu Han was so nervous he could puke. God, what was this aversion he had to being put on the spot? He always did well on the soccer field or when he had to perform for some special school activity, but whenever he had to get overly personal he would freeze up, his voice shrivelling away like water on hot pavement. And there would be no Yixing to hide behind here, no Yifan to pass the microphone to-it'd just be him, Zitao and a dumb, brittle, hopeless moment of truth.
This is okay, he repeated to himself. He could do this. This will be okay.
Oh god. He was really going for it.
“You’ll be fine,” Yixing had assured him, hands pressingly reassuringly on Lu Han’s shoulders. “That’s the nature of this kind of thing, to be a little scared. But whatever Zitao says to you, he won’t be mean about it. He’s way too soft-hearted.”
“You’re soft-hearted and you hurt Yifan's feelings all the time.”
“No he doesn’t,” Yifan had snapped, at the same time Yixing asked, surprised, “Do I?”
“We have to go now,” Yifan had said, winding an arm around Yixing’s shoulders and steering him away. “Good luck, don’t make an idiot of yourself.”
Too bad Lu Han had never quite figured out how to do that.
He was loitering around the school’s main doors, pacing a little, when someone behind him grabbed his elbow.
“Woah, hey-”
“Come this way,” Zitao said, pulling Lu Han back into the school.
Lu Han swallowed down the rock in his throat. “Where are we going?”
“Science lab,” said Zitao.
"What? The science lab?” asked Lu Han. “Why?”
“I need your help with something.”
“Oh. Uh.”
But Zitao’s fingers around Lu Han’s wrist did feel pretty nice, so Lu Han let himself be tugged down one hallway and into another, the two of them weaving through the steady stream of students heading in the opposite direction, until they stopped in front of the classroom in which Lu Han had taken chemistry three years ago. The room was empty, but still lit bright from a wall of windows, and Zitao quickly opened the door to shove Lu Han inside. He pushed it shut behind him and ran over to the supply closet to rifle through its cabinets.
“What’s going on?” Lu Han asked. This wasn’t what he’d been picturing when Zitao had said he’d wanted to show him a surprise.
Amid the mad clinking of their lab apparatus, Zitao took out a pair of forceps with a grin of triumph. “Ah, this.”
“Oh my god?”
“Relax! This will be cool. I read about tips and stuff on the way back to school. Loads of people do it themselves.”
“Tips for what? Do what?”
“Tongue piercings,” said Zitao. He tossed the forceps at Lu Han, who just barely managed to catch them before they took an eye out. “We’re going to give me one right now.”
-
Apparently, Zitao’s “errands” that morning had involved visiting a tattoo and piercing parlour that he’d heard a few guys on the basketball team mentioning before, and asking, with the invincibility only a fifteen-year-old could pull off, to get a tongue piercing. It had been a classy establishment, one of those that even celebrities could visit without worry, which was why Zitao had had to save up quite a bit before he could afford to drop in. It was assumedly also why the tattoo artist working in there at the time had taken one baleful look at Zitao and told him to come back when he was a few years older.
“I mean, don’t I look mature enough?” Zitao whined, dumping a load of rubbing alcohol onto a wad of tissues. He started frenetically polishing one of the needle they used for pinning dissections. “I can’t believe he’d turn down a customer’s money like that. Then, he told me to go back to school! It was unbelievable.”
“Uh, but don’t you think he had a point?” asked Lu Han.
Zitao narrowed his eyes at him. “You want to help me or not?”
“Well I don’t want you to do it yourself! I just don’t get why you can’t find another place if you want to get a piercing so badly!”
“Oh,” Zitao said sheepishly. “Well, on the way back to the subway I passed by a mall so I… went shopping a bit to cheer myself up.”
“I… see,” said Lu Han, all of the sudden noticing a ring around Zitao’s left index finger that he didn’t remember seeing before. “Anyway, shouldn’t you get this taken care of by a professional? It’ll be easier by all accounts.”
“How hard can it be though? You hold out the tongue, then push a needle through it. Stick in the piercing,” Zitao held up the thin, silver barbell in his hand, probably purchased at the same store he got the ring, “and that’s it! Probably there’ll be some blood, but that’s what kleenex is for.” He grabbed a box of tissues off the teacher’s desk.
Lu Han tried not to whimper. He wasn’t the best around blood.
“We’ll have to be careful about not hitting a vein in my tongue, though,” added Zitao. “Or else that might get really messy.”
Lu Han’s stomach flipped unpleasantly. He felt the same way he did when he was about to board an airplane. Heights and blood. His worst nightmares. “Yeah, um. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Pleeeease, Lu Han,” Zitao said. “I really need your help. I don’t want to wait until I have all that money saved up again.”
“You should have thought of that before you blew it all on rings and earrings!”
“And scarves,” sighed Zitao. “But they’re really nice ones. Come on. I’m begging you here. Pleeease?” He held up two hands beseechingly and did something with his face that Lu Han guessed was supposed to be a puppy dog expression. Why did Lu Han have to be so weak to terrible, spoiled people with dark eye bags and really cute smiles?
Although it was really, really flattering that Zitao had come to Lu Han to do this. Out of all the people he could have asked. Not Yifan. Not the twins. Lu Han. He trusted Lu Han enough to stick a needle into his tongue. It might even be sort of romantic, by Zitao’s weird standards.
“Hey, if you really want to back out,” Zitao started to say, sounding disappointed, “I can ask some-”
“No!” Lu Han heard himself cry. He grabbed the forceps and clicked them. “I can do it. Let’s do this.”
Zitao grinned. Lu Han's stomach did another back-flip. Not just because of the nausea.
-
“Ready?”
“‘ee--hy.”
“...really ready?”
“Yeth!”
“Like, really, really, one hundred percent, no taking it back ready?”
“Juth ‘oo i’ ahh’eady!”
“Okay, okay.” Lu Han hovered the needle a centimetre over Zitao’s tongue, right above where the forceps were clamped. Zitao obediently had opened his mouth as widely as possible and seemed to be growing increasingly agitated for each second Lu Han stalled. Or maybe he was just in pain. This grip on his tongue couldn’t be comfortable.
This whole situation was traumatic. Lu Han had had dirty thoughts about this tongue. He didn’t want to be abusing it like this. His hands were shaking. They understood better than Lu Han the pain they were about to inflict.
“‘u ‘an!” slurred Zitao.
Lu Han quickly snatched away needle and forceps. Zitao’s reddened tongue snapped back into his mouth.
“I just-sorry, I’m nervous,” Lu Han said, shaking out his hands. He peeled off the latex gloves; the insides were coated with sweat.
Zitao slumped back on his chair. “You know what, let’s not do this. You’re starting to get me all nervous too.”
“No, no, I can do it! I can.”
“You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I’m not going to faint,” Lu Han said, with more conviction than he felt.
Zitao’s eyebrows pinched together guiltily. “You can say you don’t want to do this, you know. It’s not like I’m going to force you.”
“I-” Lu Han started. “I-don’t not want to do this.”
“Come on, I’m not blind. Let’s forget about it, okay? This is making you uncomfortable, and I shouldn’t have ask-”
“But I was glad you asked!” Lu Han blurted. “I mean. I think it was cool of you to ask me. Even though I’m fucking it up.”
“You’re not, you can’t fuck up if you haven’t done it yet,” Zitao laughed. “And besides, who else would I ask?”
“...Yifan actually has had piercings done. I haven’t.”
“But Yifan is super lame about dumb things and would never let me get away with shit like this.” A grin slowly curled onto Zitao’s lips. “That’s why I keep you around.”
He kicked the bottom of Lu Han’s chair, then kept his leg extended like that, ankle touching Lu Han’s. Lu Han tensed.
Zitao leaned forward and cupped his chin on the heel of his palm. “You always do that. I still can’t make my mind up about if it’s cute or annoying.”
“Do what?” Lu Han mumbled. There was no way he should be able to feel Zitao’s body heat through his pants and yet-
“You look away whenever I compliment you.”
Lu Han’s focus swivelled back to Zitao. “Do I? No I don’t.”
“Yeah, you totally do. It’s like you have trouble believing that I like you.”
For a moment, Lu Han’s throat dried up. With effort, he managed, “But you do, right?”
“What, like you?” Zitao asked. He kicked Lu Han’s chair again. “I trust you enough to pierce my tongue. Shouldn’t that make it super obvious?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han said quietly. He looked down at the forceps and needle, lying neglected on the metal tray. “Let’s try this again?” He picked up the needle carefully and gave himself a not-so-gentle jab on the tip of his left index finger. “Ow!”
“What are you doing?!” Zitao yelled.
“I just wanted to see how much force I needed to pierce it through skin! Wow, this hurts, kind of.”
“You’re bleeding,” Zitao said, grabbing Lu Han’s hand. He examined the drop of blood welling up thickly from the finger and wiped it off with some tissue. Then he sucked the finger into his mouth.
Something very tiny and very dense underwent a semi-controlled explosion within the twisted spools of Lu Han’s gut.
It was maybe two seconds total, of Lu Han’s finger in Zitao’s mouth. But during those two seconds, Lu Han felt the wet lick of Zitao’s tongue, the scrape of Zitao’s top row of teeth against his second knuckle, the gentle hold that Zitao had around his wrist. It was like Zitao was sucking Lu Han’s heart up out of his chest and down his arm-every nerve in his body suddenly felt lit up, with most of the sensation concentrated on his left hand-but there was blood rushing between his ears, too, and down below, lower, he-
Zitao removed the finger and wrapped it up with the tissue. Then he gave the back of Lu Han’s hand a soft kiss. “There.”
“That-wasn’t really sanitary,” Lu Han said, trying not to squeak. Though all his limbs felt loose and rubbery, he gave a feeble pull to take back his arm.
Except Zitao didn’t let go. He allowed himself to be pulled with it, leaning over the desk, until he was almost nose to nose with Lu Han, their hands cupped between them. Lu Han’s eyes dipped, drawn to the cupid’s bow of Zitao’s lips, which were just barely open, as if caught on a silent vowel. Zitao’s breath fanned Lu Han’s face.
“Is this okay?” Zitao whispered.
It was the first time Lu Han remembering Zitao asking permission about anything.
“Yeah,” said Lu Han, swallowing hard. “It’s-” he clutched tight around Zitao’s fingers and lifted his chin, closing the last few centimetres of warm, empty space separating them.
Zitao’s lips were soft, eager. His other hand slid around the back of Lu Han’s neck, pressing him closer, as his mouth moved slowly over Lu Han’s. Lu Han licked gently at Zitao’s lips, and Zitao moaned a little as he opened up to let Lu Han in. The entire world infused with the dulled scent of Zitao’s deodorant; the caress of their mouths sounded softer than in Lu Han’s dreams. Their noses bumped awkwardly as they kissed, and Lu Han’s cheeks were on fire, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his right hand around Zitao’s bicep as an anchor, leaning in even more-
“Don’t!” Zitao said, wrenching away. He swept the stray needle off the desk and threw it on the metal tray. Lu Han had forgotten clean about it.
“Oh,” he said. It could have pierced his elbows. So careless.
Zitao grinned at him. “Wow, we’re kind of dumb, huh?”
“Really dumb.”
“Let’s go make out somewhere that doesn’t smell like rubbing alcohol.”
“Okay,” Lu Han agreed dizzily. He took Zitao's hand.
-
“So it was never about you and Yifan?” Lu Han asked. He gave their pilfered lab tools one last frown and gladly threw them back among their metallic siblings in the supply drawer.
Zitao, stuffing the cleaned metal tray back in the bottom shelf, lifted up his head so fast that he nearly bumped into Lu Han’s elbow. “Yifan?” he said. “What?”
“Oh. I mean, uh. You guys are always hanging out after school, so I thought that you-”
Zitao stared.
“Kind of… had a thing. For him,” Lu Han finished lamely.
Zitao’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he bent over, covering his face with his hands. His shoulders started to shake.
“Woah, no, no, no,” Lu Han rushed to say, “don’t cry, I didn’t mean it, I take it back-”
“I’m not crying,” Zitao yelled, looking up. His eyes were bright, but it really wasn’t because of tears. He was laughing. “You idiot, I got over that dumb crush like, the second week of team practise. Do you know that half his gym bag is filled with lotions and stuff? He also has tinted lip balm.”
“Yeah, he’s always been like that,” Lu Han said awkwardly.
“He’s too into himself,” said Zitao. “Too bad he’s nowhere near as cool as I used to think he was.”
“Don’t pretend you’re any better!” Lu Han blurted without thinking.
Zitao shoved Lu Han to the ground and tackled him. “I’m not saying I’m better!” he grinned. “I really like the Yifan I know now! He’s like a dorky big brother. But I have more fun with you.” He leaned down and pecked Lu Han on the nose.
“Oh,” swallowed Lu Han. His entire body lightened.
Zitao dragged them both to their feet and to the door. “Let’s go get some food,” he said, holding tightly to Lu Han’s arm. "Then afterwards we can talk about how you-" He reached for the doorknob and pressed down. The knob clicked. The door didn’t budge.
“Huh?” said Zitao. He tried again, pushing harder. The door clicked again, and rattled in its frame, but didn’t open.
“Um,” said Lu Han.
“Are we-” Zitao jiggled the doorknob frantically. “This can’t be right?”
“The school has electronic locks, dumbass!” Lu Han cried. “All the unused classrooms get locked after 6:30!”
“How the hell was I supposed to know that?!”
“Oh my god,” said Lu Han. “We’re stuck in here.”
“Don’t freak out. We can just call someone,” said Zitao. “You’re in the student council. Someone’s bound to be still in school.”
Lu Han took out his phone. Its screen was black and didn’t respond to any prodding. “My phone’s dead.” Of course.
“So…” said Zitao.
“So, um,” said Lu Han.
-
They were back to making out by the time help finally arrived. Lu Han sat stupidly, with Zitao on the desk in front of him, craning his neck upwards over and over to meet Zitao’s lips, so preoccupied that he didn’t even hear the lock beep from the outside.
“-orry we’re so late,” said Yixing’s voice, as the door clicked open. “Yifan turned his phone off during the movie so we-” he stopped. “Whoops.”
Lu Han shoved Zitao away from him-their lips made an obscene smacking sound as they broke apart- nearly tipping Zitao off the desk.
“Maybe we should come back later,” said Yifan. He was holding the access card that could unlock the classrooms after regular school hours. And he was laughing.
“No! Sorry, hi,” said Lu Han, combing his fingers hurriedly through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” said Yixing, smiling. “Are you guys all right?”
Zitao wasn’t even trying to suppress his grin. “Yep,” he said.
Lu Han nodded. His lips were numb from their kissing, his clothes were a mess, his neck was stiff, and his stomach was about to eat itself out of hunger, plus he kind of wanted to die of embarrassment because Yifan was looking oh-so-satisfied with himself-but Lu Han felt great. He felt fantastic.
Zitao’s shoulder bumped fondly into his as they made their unimpressive escape from the classroom.
“Sorry about your piercing,” said Lu Han. They’d been stuck inside the lab for a total of three hours and still Lu Han didn’t manage to work up the courage. Although Zitao didn’t really push for it-Lu Han just didn’t want to make him lose out on something he’d been looking forward to.
“Eh,” said Zitao, shrugging. “This was way better, anyway.”
“What was?”
Zitao rolled his eyes, and grabbed Lu Han’s wrist. “So dumb,” he said, shaking his head. But he sounded really happy.
next