navigate me (1/1)
pairing: chanyeol/kai
rating: G for boytears
wordcount: 3.7k
summary: mama!au. Jongin has some trouble controlling his power and ends up teleporting into a stranger’s apartment and onto his lap.
notes: inspired by this tweet there is no escape from chankai prompt bot
edit: this fic has been translated into thai! you can read here. :D
Of all the rooms in the manor, the training rooms are the only ones that make Jongin nervous. He hasn’t been in them very often since he arrived, but recently Junmyeon offered to teach him there. Jongin had been excited, at first - he’d seen how others in the manor had changed after lessons with Junmyeon.
Sehun, who once almost blew the whole house away with a squall during a temper tantrum, could now focus his power enough to send tiny tornadoes down the halls to do the vacuuming. Jongin was a little too shy to ask for details about what his training was like, but the thought of having that much control, having his power mastered, outweighed all his doubts.
Now, though, a few weeks in, his doubts were returning. As much as he hates it, Jongin can’t ignore the dread that settles in him as soon as he enters the training room.
Junmyeon greets him with a smile as always, ushering him inside. “Hey. Ready to start?”
Jongin nods. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be - they tried this exercise the day before, too. Teleportation from one room to another.
His first lessons had been simpler, smaller jumps, just around the training room to different Xs marked on the floor with tape. Jongin could do those easily enough. Looking at the spots and teleporting there wasn’t so hard, but not being able to see where he’s going makes it a lot more difficult - and sometimes, Jongin doesn’t feel like he has much of a handle on his power in the first place.
They’ve been trying this exercise for the past week, him and Junmyeon, and Jongin still hasn’t managed to do it. When he’s not thinking about it, the jump comes easily, but it’s still not within his direct control - like yesterday morning, when he had ended up back in bed three times, and that time Baekhyun had jumped out at him from around a corner and Jongin had suddenly found himself on the front lawn outside.
It’s just when he’s really trying for it that he can’t seem to make it work, and it frustrates him to no end.
“Jongin.” Junmyeon’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Just relax, okay? You’ll get it.”
But he’s said that every day, and Jongin still hasn’t gotten it yet. He gets into position anyway, shoulders back and feet apart.
“Close your eyes. Think of where you want to go.”
As soon as Jongin’s eyes are shut, images flicker through his mind like flipping pages of a mental photo album, too fast for him to focus on any certain one. He opens his eyes and rubs his forehead with a frown. “I don’t know where I want to go.”
“You can pick anywhere,” Junmyeon says with a kind smile. “Your bedroom, the garden in the yard, even right outside this room, if you want. Just focus on one place. Visualize it.”
Jongin closes his eyes again, holding back a sigh. It’s all things he’s heard before, and none of it ever works. More than anything, he just wants to not be in the training room.
“Are you ready?” Junmyeon asks. Jongin thinks of his bedroom, of the beach in the photo on his wall, of the view from the roof of the manor. He nods uneasily.
He hears Junmyeon stepping back, giving him space. “Take a deep breath,” he reminds Jongin, “and… go.”
The next moment passes slowly in Jongin’s mind. There’s a tug that he’s supposed to latch onto, a split-second pull that will blink him out of one space and bring him to another. Something like instinct that his body already knows.
It’s not there, at first. Jongin isn’t surprised; he’s never been able to find it for this exercise. He’ll just open his eyes like always, and Junmyeon will frown at him like he doesn’t understand why it’s not working. Jongin is so sick of that look, so sick of wondering why his power is defective, why his gift hates him--
With that thought something flares up, and he finally feels it - the tug he’s been trying so hard to find. It’s sharper than he’s used to, but Jongin grabs at it desperately, like it’s a hand pulling him out of some dark sea, and lets it take him.
He lands on something soft. Definitely not the training room floor, at least, but it might not be his bed, and he’s sort of afraid to open his eyes and make sure. He feels entirely intact, though, which is always a relief. Whatever he’s landed on is comfortable and warm, shifting a little, clearing its throat--
Jongin’s eyes snap open. He’s not in his bedroom. There’s a wide-eyed boy blinking down at him, looking about as lost as Jongin feels. It takes Jongin another few seconds to realize that he had landed right in this stranger’s lap.
“Uh,” says the boy, glancing down at the position they’re in before looking back at Jongin’s face. “Hi.”
Jongin scrambles to get off him and backs away, breathing hard. How did he end up here? An unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar house; a couch, a short table, a boy he’s never seen before - Jongin knows he’s never been to this place before, he has no idea where he is, why did his power take him here?
It must really be defective, he thinks bitterly, then startles as the stranger he had landed on starts to stand up from the couch.
“Who--” the boy starts, then stops, furrows his brow, and tries again. “How did you…?”
He takes a step forward and Jongin presses himself back against the wall. “Don’t,” he forces out, making the boy pause. “I-I’ll just-- I’ll go, I’m sorry--”
The boy only looks more confused. “But how--?”
Jongin ignores him and closes his eyes, feeling around for the tug again, but his head is spinning too much for him to focus. He has no idea where he is, or how far he is from the manor - what if he’s ended up in an entirely different city? He knows he doesn’t have the energy to flit around searching for familiar landmarks, especially if he’s really far from home.
It doesn’t help that his hands are starting to shake a little. His whole body feels trembly, and to his horror, Jongin feels tears prickling in his eyes. He squeezes them shut even tighter, trying as hard as he can to turn his frustration into focus-- but the tug just isn’t there.
“Are you alright?” the boy asks hesitantly, breaking through Jongin’s thoughts. “Is there someone I can, uh, call for you? I mean, I don’t really know what’s going on right now, but I can put that aside for a minute if you need--”
“No, I can do it,” Jongin insists, but a few tears escape when he opens his eyes. He reaches up to wipe them away angrily. “I can do it, I can.”
But he can’t, not when he’s so flustered. Crying is the last thing he wanted to be doing in front of a stranger, but here he is, shaking and sniffling and red-faced. When Jongin lowers his hands, the boy’s gaze seems a little softer.
“Hey, uh-- don’t cry, okay?” He starts to reach out a hand to Jongin, but seems to decide against it and starts backing out of the room instead. “Just… stay there for a minute. I’ll be right back, and then we can, uh. Figure this out.”
As soon as he’s gone, Jongin slumps against the wall and slides down to sit on the floor. He didn’t really need to be told to stay put, he thinks sourly, wiping his wet face on his sleeve. His power won’t let him go anywhere, anyway.
He can hear the boy shuffling around in another room, and something like plates clinking together - he’s not calling the police, then, which is a relief. Jongin takes a moment for a more careful look around, noticing the blank-screened TV across from the couch, the tall bookshelves along one wall, the stacks of CDs on the floor next to a cabinet already full of them. On the far wall, there’s an open window. Jongin almost gets up to go look outside, but the fear that he won’t recognize anything he sees holds him back.
He lets himself wonder for a split second about Junmyeon, if he’s worried or angry or disappointed, before the boy comes back into the room carrying two steaming mugs. Jongin pushes the thoughts away, glad for the distraction.
The boy steps closer to Jongin somewhat warily, then sets one mug carefully down on the floor and backs up. Jongin leans forward to pick it up, breathing in the herbal scent wafting off the tea inside. “Thank you,” he says quietly, too shy to look up.
“You’re welcome,” the boy says with a wide grin. He drops down to sit on the floor across from Jongin, but leaves a wide space between them, and Jongin lets himself relax a tiny bit. The tea is still too hot to drink, but holding the warm mug stops his hands from trembling.
They sit quietly for a few minutes, gazing down at their drinks instead of at each other, until the boy chokes on his first sip and startles Jongin into looking up at him.
“Sorry,” he says weakly, trying to smile and fan his burned tongue at the same time. “It’s still a little hot. You should probably blow on it.”
Jongin nods and raises his mug to do so, peeking at the boy over the top of it. He’s put his own mug down on the floor, now leaning back on his palms and watching Jongin with another, less-pained smile.
He seems to be waiting to say something, so Jongin swallows hard and puts his tea down again. The boy smiles a bit wider. “I’m Chanyeol,” he says, bowing his head a little. “What’s your name?”
Jongin hesitates for a moment. It’s probably safe to tell him - Chanyeol didn’t call the police on him, after all. “Jongin.”
“Cool,” Chanyeol says, then clears his throat. “So. How’d you get into my house?”
“I…” Jongin swallows hard and braces himself, gaze dropping back to his tea. “I teleported.”
Chanyeol laughs at first, but Jongin’s wince and frown have him trailing off into confused silence. Jongin can feel the stare Chanyeol fixes on him even with his head down. There’s a few uncomfortable seconds between them before Chanyeol speaks up again. “Wait, like, seriously?”
Jongin nods, peeking up through his bangs to try to gauge Chanyeol’s reaction. He isn’t smiling anymore, but he doesn’t seem angry, either, staring down at his tea with his brow furrowed. Jongin watches various confused expressions flit across Chanyeol’s face until he settles on a vaguely concerned-looking one and looks up at him again.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says hesitantly, and Jongin braces himself once more, “but are you, like… an alien?”
Jongin laughs a little, out of some strange mix of shock and relief. Chanyeol looks surprised but pleased, grinning at him again. “I’m not an alien,” Jongin tells him, giving a tiny smile back. “I’m-- it’s just--”
He pauses, not really sure what to call it. Junmyeon always says they’re special or gifted, but to Jongin, that doesn’t convey it quite right. “It’s just something I have. A part of me.”
“A part of you, huh,” Chanyeol hums, tapping his fingers on the side of his mug. Jongin waits for something bigger, for the inevitable barrage of questions or insistence that he’s making it up, but Chanyeol stays quiet, swirling the tea around in his mug. Jongin is baffled. While he had appeared - literally - right under Chanyeol’s nose, he never expected him to be so… okay with it.
“How does it work?” Chanyeol asks suddenly, catching his gaze again. “I mean, how do you... “ He makes a vague flapping gesture with one arm. Jongin bites his lip to keep from laughing. “What do you do?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Jongin mumbles. “I kind of just… close my eyes and do it?” He frowns down at his tea. “I-I can’t make it work all the time, though. I’m not very good at it.”
Chanyeol snorts. “You got here, didn’t you? That couldn’t have been easy.”
“But I didn’t mean to end up here,” Jongin insists, slumping his shoulders. “And I don’t know how to get back to-- how to get home. I can picture where I want to go, but when I try, it doesn’t work.”
His hands are shaking again, and he tightens them around his mug to hide it. “It’s like, I have all the pieces, but I can’t focus enough to put them together, and then everything gets jumbled up and I lose it, and now I’m stuck here and I don’t even know where here is--”
“Hey,” Chanyeol cuts him off, voice soft. He scoots a little closer and ducks his head to peer up at Jongin, eyes wide with concern. “Slow down, it’s okay. You’re not stuck.”
Jongin tries to glare at him, but it ends up more of a miserable pout. “I am if I can’t control where I go.”
“But you can,” Chanyeol says confidently. “You just need to focus, right? I can help you.”
“How?”
“My old roommate was a yoga instructor,” Chanyeol explains. “He moved out a while ago, but I still remember some stuff. Meditation, and all that.” He grins at Jongin. “You got yourself here. You can get yourself home.”
He sounds so certain about it, so genuinely sure of Jongin’s ability, even if Jongin himself isn’t. It really couldn’t hurt to try one more time, Jongin decides, shyly meeting Chanyeol’s gaze. He gives him a careful nod, and Chanyeol’s smile grows impossibly wider.
“Okay, close your eyes,” he instructs, shifting closer to Jongin and sitting up straight. Jongin follows his lead, moving so he isn’t leaning back against the wall anymore. “Take a deep breath in through your nose. Relax.”
It already sounds like the same things he’s heard a thousand times over from Junmyeon. Jongin tries to hold in his sigh of dismay, but Chanyeol notices his disgruntled expression and laughs. “You’ve gotta start slow,” he says, smiling apologetically. “If we rush, it’ll defeat the purpose.”
He reaches out for Jongin’s hand and gently takes it in both of his own, brushing his thumbs over Jongin’s knuckles. “Just trust me, okay?”
Jongin nods again, still a bit wary, but he does his best to breathe out his uncertainty as he closes his eyes. He focuses on the steadiness of Chanyeol’s hands on his, hoping the feeling can carry over to him.
“In your mind, picture a square,” Chanyeol starts, voice dropping pleasantly low. “Trace over it while you breathe - in when you go up one side, out when you go down the other, and hold your breath in between. Get it?” He strokes lightly over the back of Jongin’s hand again. “So, in… hold… out… hold… in…”
Jongin follows along, letting Chanyeol’s voice lull the nervousness out of him. He’s nice to listen to, the deep lilting tone fitting easily into Jongin’s mind. He almost forgets that he’s supposed to be visualizing home, but even when the walls of the manor sprout up in his imagination, Jongin still finds himself paying more attention to the warmth of Chanyeol in front of him.
“Are you ready?” Chanyeol asks, squeezing his fingers, and Jongin swallows down a spike of doubt. “Focus on where you want to go, build it around you, and go in three… two… “
On one, he lets go of Jongin’s hand.
Jongin’s eyes snap open but the tug is already there, sharper than before and pulling at him insistently, like his body knows it’s time to go. In the moment before he disappears he gets one final glimpse of Chanyeol, looking at him with something like wonder-- and then he’s gone.
The first thing Jongin sees is the familiar hardwood staircase in the front hall, and he very nearly collapses against the nearest wall in relief. He barely registers the footsteps heading his way before Junmyeon is suddenly there, wrapping him in a tight hug.
“You’re back,” he says breathlessly, pulling back after a few seconds to look at his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Jongin mumbles, returning the hug. He wasn’t gone for very long, but the sheer relief from arriving home in one piece hits him like a wave and leaves his knees a little shaky.
The others appear as well, Baekhyun, Minseok, Yixing and Zitao all peeking out from around the corner, but it’s Sehun who pushes past them, and Junmyeon pulls away so Sehun can wrap around Jongin himself. “Where were you?” he asks, sounding more worried than Jongin had expected.
“I don’t really know,” he answers honestly. “Definitely not here.”
“Definitely not in the training room,” Junmyeon sighs, massaging his temple like he’s holding off a headache.
“He should’ve told you to stay within the manor grounds,” Sehun grumbles into Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin tries his best not to snicker.
Junmyeon waits until Sehun unwinds from Jongin before growing serious again. “I’m sorry for pushing you,” he says quietly, a hand on Jongin’s elbow. “We should’ve taken smaller steps--”
“It’s okay,” Jongin cuts him off. “I mean, I did it, didn’t I?”
Junmyeon smiles again. “You did,” he agrees, and he sounds proud.
He pats Jongin’s shoulder before moving off entirely, letting the others crowd around him with their questions. Jongin really is happy to see them, but he wishes he could’ve had a few minutes alone before they all found him - just a little bit of time to process the abrupt changes in scenery, and the strange cold feeling in his fingers.
Much later, when everyone’s finished asking where he went and how he got home and if he’s okay, Jongin is finally free to crawl into bed. Usually he has no problem falling asleep even if he isn’t completely exhausted, but tonight he stares at the ceiling for a long time, trying to organize his thoughts.
They’re mostly about Chanyeol, if he’s honest. Like how his voice sounded, and how, with him, Jongin finally felt like he had control of where he was going. He’s still not entirely confident - ending up in Chanyeol’s house in the first place still happened by accident. What if it was because of another fluke that he managed to get back to the manor?
Or could he do it again?
Once he starts thinking about it, Jongin knows he won’t be able to sleep until he tries. Still, he can’t deny the tiny jolt of excitement that comes when he sits up and closes his eyes, or the stutter in his breath when he tries to inhale calmly. He sits still and imagines the walls folding up around him, revealing another room in another house, and then latches onto a low voice in the back of his mind--
Are you ready? Go in three… two…
When he opens his eyes, the room is still dark, but it’s not his bedroom anymore. Chanyeol’s living room looks different without Chanyeol in it, but Jongin recognizes the couch - and the short table, when he nearly trips over it. He gets a few seconds into celebratory amazement that he had actually gone where he wanted to before he remembers that it’s the middle of the night, when normal people are asleep.
Jongin looks sheepishly around the dark room. It wouldn’t be fair to wake Chanyeol up just to show him that he had barged into his house again. He knows he can get home, at least, so maybe he could just come back tomorrow--
But the light flicks on just then, and Jongin is terrified for a split second before he looks over and sees Chanyeol standing in the doorway. He looks sleepy and confused, but after a few seconds of squinting at the light he seems to realize the figure in his living room is Jongin. “Oh, you’re back.”
“Sorry,” Jongin says quickly. “I know it’s late, I can go--”
“No, it’s fine,” Chanyeol says around a yawn as he crosses the room. “To be honest, I was wondering if you would come back.” He pauses a few steps away, rubbing his eyes. “Hoping you would, I mean.”
Jongin feels his cheeks heating up and looks down at the floor to hide it. “I-I can’t stay long, I just... I wanted to thank you. For helping me.”
“You don’t need to,” Chanyeol says with a shrug. “I barely did anything, it was all you.”
Jongin glances up to frown at him. “We’re complete strangers, but you let me stay even though I teleported into your house.”
Chanyeol laughs. “Okay, you’re welcome for that,” he concedes, moving in again until he’s almost close enough for Jongin to reach out and touch.. “...Are we still strangers, though?”
Jongin looks down again, face hot. “I don’t want to be.”
“Good,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin can tell he’s smiling even if he doesn’t look up. “So we could, like, hang out? Sometime? I mean, you know how to get here now, so…”
“We could,” Jongin agrees, biting his lip to hide a smile of his own. “Just. On purpose, this time.”
“And maybe during the day,” Chanyeol adds.
“Don’t make me feel bad,” Jongin whines at him, but he can’t help returning the grin Chanyeol shoots him. “I should go, we’re both supposed to be asleep.”
Chanyeol nods and steps back, putting a comfortable distance between them. “Alright. Sleep well.”
“You too,” Jongin manages, then hesitates for a moment before stepping closer to Chanyeol again. He ignores the surprised expression on his face and leans up to press his lips to Chanyeol’s cheek - just a tiny peck, but it still turns both their faces bright red.
“Goodnight,” he whispers as he steps back, smiling shyly. Chanyeol reaches out for him just as he disappears, and Jongin takes with him the brief, fleeting feeling of Chanyeol’s hands pulling him in again.
> this fkcin twitter account
rating: G for boytears
wordcount: 3.7k
summary: mama!au. Jongin has some trouble controlling his power and ends up teleporting into a stranger’s apartment and onto his lap.
notes: inspired by this tweet there is no escape from chankai prompt bot
edit: this fic has been translated into thai! you can read here. :D
Of all the rooms in the manor, the training rooms are the only ones that make Jongin nervous. He hasn’t been in them very often since he arrived, but recently Junmyeon offered to teach him there. Jongin had been excited, at first - he’d seen how others in the manor had changed after lessons with Junmyeon.
Sehun, who once almost blew the whole house away with a squall during a temper tantrum, could now focus his power enough to send tiny tornadoes down the halls to do the vacuuming. Jongin was a little too shy to ask for details about what his training was like, but the thought of having that much control, having his power mastered, outweighed all his doubts.
Now, though, a few weeks in, his doubts were returning. As much as he hates it, Jongin can’t ignore the dread that settles in him as soon as he enters the training room.
Junmyeon greets him with a smile as always, ushering him inside. “Hey. Ready to start?”
Jongin nods. He’s as ready as he’ll ever be - they tried this exercise the day before, too. Teleportation from one room to another.
His first lessons had been simpler, smaller jumps, just around the training room to different Xs marked on the floor with tape. Jongin could do those easily enough. Looking at the spots and teleporting there wasn’t so hard, but not being able to see where he’s going makes it a lot more difficult - and sometimes, Jongin doesn’t feel like he has much of a handle on his power in the first place.
They’ve been trying this exercise for the past week, him and Junmyeon, and Jongin still hasn’t managed to do it. When he’s not thinking about it, the jump comes easily, but it’s still not within his direct control - like yesterday morning, when he had ended up back in bed three times, and that time Baekhyun had jumped out at him from around a corner and Jongin had suddenly found himself on the front lawn outside.
It’s just when he’s really trying for it that he can’t seem to make it work, and it frustrates him to no end.
“Jongin.” Junmyeon’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “Just relax, okay? You’ll get it.”
But he’s said that every day, and Jongin still hasn’t gotten it yet. He gets into position anyway, shoulders back and feet apart.
“Close your eyes. Think of where you want to go.”
As soon as Jongin’s eyes are shut, images flicker through his mind like flipping pages of a mental photo album, too fast for him to focus on any certain one. He opens his eyes and rubs his forehead with a frown. “I don’t know where I want to go.”
“You can pick anywhere,” Junmyeon says with a kind smile. “Your bedroom, the garden in the yard, even right outside this room, if you want. Just focus on one place. Visualize it.”
Jongin closes his eyes again, holding back a sigh. It’s all things he’s heard before, and none of it ever works. More than anything, he just wants to not be in the training room.
“Are you ready?” Junmyeon asks. Jongin thinks of his bedroom, of the beach in the photo on his wall, of the view from the roof of the manor. He nods uneasily.
He hears Junmyeon stepping back, giving him space. “Take a deep breath,” he reminds Jongin, “and… go.”
The next moment passes slowly in Jongin’s mind. There’s a tug that he’s supposed to latch onto, a split-second pull that will blink him out of one space and bring him to another. Something like instinct that his body already knows.
It’s not there, at first. Jongin isn’t surprised; he’s never been able to find it for this exercise. He’ll just open his eyes like always, and Junmyeon will frown at him like he doesn’t understand why it’s not working. Jongin is so sick of that look, so sick of wondering why his power is defective, why his gift hates him--
With that thought something flares up, and he finally feels it - the tug he’s been trying so hard to find. It’s sharper than he’s used to, but Jongin grabs at it desperately, like it’s a hand pulling him out of some dark sea, and lets it take him.
He lands on something soft. Definitely not the training room floor, at least, but it might not be his bed, and he’s sort of afraid to open his eyes and make sure. He feels entirely intact, though, which is always a relief. Whatever he’s landed on is comfortable and warm, shifting a little, clearing its throat--
Jongin’s eyes snap open. He’s not in his bedroom. There’s a wide-eyed boy blinking down at him, looking about as lost as Jongin feels. It takes Jongin another few seconds to realize that he had landed right in this stranger’s lap.
“Uh,” says the boy, glancing down at the position they’re in before looking back at Jongin’s face. “Hi.”
Jongin scrambles to get off him and backs away, breathing hard. How did he end up here? An unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar house; a couch, a short table, a boy he’s never seen before - Jongin knows he’s never been to this place before, he has no idea where he is, why did his power take him here?
It must really be defective, he thinks bitterly, then startles as the stranger he had landed on starts to stand up from the couch.
“Who--” the boy starts, then stops, furrows his brow, and tries again. “How did you…?”
He takes a step forward and Jongin presses himself back against the wall. “Don’t,” he forces out, making the boy pause. “I-I’ll just-- I’ll go, I’m sorry--”
The boy only looks more confused. “But how--?”
Jongin ignores him and closes his eyes, feeling around for the tug again, but his head is spinning too much for him to focus. He has no idea where he is, or how far he is from the manor - what if he’s ended up in an entirely different city? He knows he doesn’t have the energy to flit around searching for familiar landmarks, especially if he’s really far from home.
It doesn’t help that his hands are starting to shake a little. His whole body feels trembly, and to his horror, Jongin feels tears prickling in his eyes. He squeezes them shut even tighter, trying as hard as he can to turn his frustration into focus-- but the tug just isn’t there.
“Are you alright?” the boy asks hesitantly, breaking through Jongin’s thoughts. “Is there someone I can, uh, call for you? I mean, I don’t really know what’s going on right now, but I can put that aside for a minute if you need--”
“No, I can do it,” Jongin insists, but a few tears escape when he opens his eyes. He reaches up to wipe them away angrily. “I can do it, I can.”
But he can’t, not when he’s so flustered. Crying is the last thing he wanted to be doing in front of a stranger, but here he is, shaking and sniffling and red-faced. When Jongin lowers his hands, the boy’s gaze seems a little softer.
“Hey, uh-- don’t cry, okay?” He starts to reach out a hand to Jongin, but seems to decide against it and starts backing out of the room instead. “Just… stay there for a minute. I’ll be right back, and then we can, uh. Figure this out.”
As soon as he’s gone, Jongin slumps against the wall and slides down to sit on the floor. He didn’t really need to be told to stay put, he thinks sourly, wiping his wet face on his sleeve. His power won’t let him go anywhere, anyway.
He can hear the boy shuffling around in another room, and something like plates clinking together - he’s not calling the police, then, which is a relief. Jongin takes a moment for a more careful look around, noticing the blank-screened TV across from the couch, the tall bookshelves along one wall, the stacks of CDs on the floor next to a cabinet already full of them. On the far wall, there’s an open window. Jongin almost gets up to go look outside, but the fear that he won’t recognize anything he sees holds him back.
He lets himself wonder for a split second about Junmyeon, if he’s worried or angry or disappointed, before the boy comes back into the room carrying two steaming mugs. Jongin pushes the thoughts away, glad for the distraction.
The boy steps closer to Jongin somewhat warily, then sets one mug carefully down on the floor and backs up. Jongin leans forward to pick it up, breathing in the herbal scent wafting off the tea inside. “Thank you,” he says quietly, too shy to look up.
“You’re welcome,” the boy says with a wide grin. He drops down to sit on the floor across from Jongin, but leaves a wide space between them, and Jongin lets himself relax a tiny bit. The tea is still too hot to drink, but holding the warm mug stops his hands from trembling.
They sit quietly for a few minutes, gazing down at their drinks instead of at each other, until the boy chokes on his first sip and startles Jongin into looking up at him.
“Sorry,” he says weakly, trying to smile and fan his burned tongue at the same time. “It’s still a little hot. You should probably blow on it.”
Jongin nods and raises his mug to do so, peeking at the boy over the top of it. He’s put his own mug down on the floor, now leaning back on his palms and watching Jongin with another, less-pained smile.
He seems to be waiting to say something, so Jongin swallows hard and puts his tea down again. The boy smiles a bit wider. “I’m Chanyeol,” he says, bowing his head a little. “What’s your name?”
Jongin hesitates for a moment. It’s probably safe to tell him - Chanyeol didn’t call the police on him, after all. “Jongin.”
“Cool,” Chanyeol says, then clears his throat. “So. How’d you get into my house?”
“I…” Jongin swallows hard and braces himself, gaze dropping back to his tea. “I teleported.”
Chanyeol laughs at first, but Jongin’s wince and frown have him trailing off into confused silence. Jongin can feel the stare Chanyeol fixes on him even with his head down. There’s a few uncomfortable seconds between them before Chanyeol speaks up again. “Wait, like, seriously?”
Jongin nods, peeking up through his bangs to try to gauge Chanyeol’s reaction. He isn’t smiling anymore, but he doesn’t seem angry, either, staring down at his tea with his brow furrowed. Jongin watches various confused expressions flit across Chanyeol’s face until he settles on a vaguely concerned-looking one and looks up at him again.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says hesitantly, and Jongin braces himself once more, “but are you, like… an alien?”
Jongin laughs a little, out of some strange mix of shock and relief. Chanyeol looks surprised but pleased, grinning at him again. “I’m not an alien,” Jongin tells him, giving a tiny smile back. “I’m-- it’s just--”
He pauses, not really sure what to call it. Junmyeon always says they’re special or gifted, but to Jongin, that doesn’t convey it quite right. “It’s just something I have. A part of me.”
“A part of you, huh,” Chanyeol hums, tapping his fingers on the side of his mug. Jongin waits for something bigger, for the inevitable barrage of questions or insistence that he’s making it up, but Chanyeol stays quiet, swirling the tea around in his mug. Jongin is baffled. While he had appeared - literally - right under Chanyeol’s nose, he never expected him to be so… okay with it.
“How does it work?” Chanyeol asks suddenly, catching his gaze again. “I mean, how do you... “ He makes a vague flapping gesture with one arm. Jongin bites his lip to keep from laughing. “What do you do?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Jongin mumbles. “I kind of just… close my eyes and do it?” He frowns down at his tea. “I-I can’t make it work all the time, though. I’m not very good at it.”
Chanyeol snorts. “You got here, didn’t you? That couldn’t have been easy.”
“But I didn’t mean to end up here,” Jongin insists, slumping his shoulders. “And I don’t know how to get back to-- how to get home. I can picture where I want to go, but when I try, it doesn’t work.”
His hands are shaking again, and he tightens them around his mug to hide it. “It’s like, I have all the pieces, but I can’t focus enough to put them together, and then everything gets jumbled up and I lose it, and now I’m stuck here and I don’t even know where here is--”
“Hey,” Chanyeol cuts him off, voice soft. He scoots a little closer and ducks his head to peer up at Jongin, eyes wide with concern. “Slow down, it’s okay. You’re not stuck.”
Jongin tries to glare at him, but it ends up more of a miserable pout. “I am if I can’t control where I go.”
“But you can,” Chanyeol says confidently. “You just need to focus, right? I can help you.”
“How?”
“My old roommate was a yoga instructor,” Chanyeol explains. “He moved out a while ago, but I still remember some stuff. Meditation, and all that.” He grins at Jongin. “You got yourself here. You can get yourself home.”
He sounds so certain about it, so genuinely sure of Jongin’s ability, even if Jongin himself isn’t. It really couldn’t hurt to try one more time, Jongin decides, shyly meeting Chanyeol’s gaze. He gives him a careful nod, and Chanyeol’s smile grows impossibly wider.
“Okay, close your eyes,” he instructs, shifting closer to Jongin and sitting up straight. Jongin follows his lead, moving so he isn’t leaning back against the wall anymore. “Take a deep breath in through your nose. Relax.”
It already sounds like the same things he’s heard a thousand times over from Junmyeon. Jongin tries to hold in his sigh of dismay, but Chanyeol notices his disgruntled expression and laughs. “You’ve gotta start slow,” he says, smiling apologetically. “If we rush, it’ll defeat the purpose.”
He reaches out for Jongin’s hand and gently takes it in both of his own, brushing his thumbs over Jongin’s knuckles. “Just trust me, okay?”
Jongin nods again, still a bit wary, but he does his best to breathe out his uncertainty as he closes his eyes. He focuses on the steadiness of Chanyeol’s hands on his, hoping the feeling can carry over to him.
“In your mind, picture a square,” Chanyeol starts, voice dropping pleasantly low. “Trace over it while you breathe - in when you go up one side, out when you go down the other, and hold your breath in between. Get it?” He strokes lightly over the back of Jongin’s hand again. “So, in… hold… out… hold… in…”
Jongin follows along, letting Chanyeol’s voice lull the nervousness out of him. He’s nice to listen to, the deep lilting tone fitting easily into Jongin’s mind. He almost forgets that he’s supposed to be visualizing home, but even when the walls of the manor sprout up in his imagination, Jongin still finds himself paying more attention to the warmth of Chanyeol in front of him.
“Are you ready?” Chanyeol asks, squeezing his fingers, and Jongin swallows down a spike of doubt. “Focus on where you want to go, build it around you, and go in three… two… “
On one, he lets go of Jongin’s hand.
Jongin’s eyes snap open but the tug is already there, sharper than before and pulling at him insistently, like his body knows it’s time to go. In the moment before he disappears he gets one final glimpse of Chanyeol, looking at him with something like wonder-- and then he’s gone.
The first thing Jongin sees is the familiar hardwood staircase in the front hall, and he very nearly collapses against the nearest wall in relief. He barely registers the footsteps heading his way before Junmyeon is suddenly there, wrapping him in a tight hug.
“You’re back,” he says breathlessly, pulling back after a few seconds to look at his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” Jongin mumbles, returning the hug. He wasn’t gone for very long, but the sheer relief from arriving home in one piece hits him like a wave and leaves his knees a little shaky.
The others appear as well, Baekhyun, Minseok, Yixing and Zitao all peeking out from around the corner, but it’s Sehun who pushes past them, and Junmyeon pulls away so Sehun can wrap around Jongin himself. “Where were you?” he asks, sounding more worried than Jongin had expected.
“I don’t really know,” he answers honestly. “Definitely not here.”
“Definitely not in the training room,” Junmyeon sighs, massaging his temple like he’s holding off a headache.
“He should’ve told you to stay within the manor grounds,” Sehun grumbles into Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin tries his best not to snicker.
Junmyeon waits until Sehun unwinds from Jongin before growing serious again. “I’m sorry for pushing you,” he says quietly, a hand on Jongin’s elbow. “We should’ve taken smaller steps--”
“It’s okay,” Jongin cuts him off. “I mean, I did it, didn’t I?”
Junmyeon smiles again. “You did,” he agrees, and he sounds proud.
He pats Jongin’s shoulder before moving off entirely, letting the others crowd around him with their questions. Jongin really is happy to see them, but he wishes he could’ve had a few minutes alone before they all found him - just a little bit of time to process the abrupt changes in scenery, and the strange cold feeling in his fingers.
Much later, when everyone’s finished asking where he went and how he got home and if he’s okay, Jongin is finally free to crawl into bed. Usually he has no problem falling asleep even if he isn’t completely exhausted, but tonight he stares at the ceiling for a long time, trying to organize his thoughts.
They’re mostly about Chanyeol, if he’s honest. Like how his voice sounded, and how, with him, Jongin finally felt like he had control of where he was going. He’s still not entirely confident - ending up in Chanyeol’s house in the first place still happened by accident. What if it was because of another fluke that he managed to get back to the manor?
Or could he do it again?
Once he starts thinking about it, Jongin knows he won’t be able to sleep until he tries. Still, he can’t deny the tiny jolt of excitement that comes when he sits up and closes his eyes, or the stutter in his breath when he tries to inhale calmly. He sits still and imagines the walls folding up around him, revealing another room in another house, and then latches onto a low voice in the back of his mind--
Are you ready? Go in three… two…
When he opens his eyes, the room is still dark, but it’s not his bedroom anymore. Chanyeol’s living room looks different without Chanyeol in it, but Jongin recognizes the couch - and the short table, when he nearly trips over it. He gets a few seconds into celebratory amazement that he had actually gone where he wanted to before he remembers that it’s the middle of the night, when normal people are asleep.
Jongin looks sheepishly around the dark room. It wouldn’t be fair to wake Chanyeol up just to show him that he had barged into his house again. He knows he can get home, at least, so maybe he could just come back tomorrow--
But the light flicks on just then, and Jongin is terrified for a split second before he looks over and sees Chanyeol standing in the doorway. He looks sleepy and confused, but after a few seconds of squinting at the light he seems to realize the figure in his living room is Jongin. “Oh, you’re back.”
“Sorry,” Jongin says quickly. “I know it’s late, I can go--”
“No, it’s fine,” Chanyeol says around a yawn as he crosses the room. “To be honest, I was wondering if you would come back.” He pauses a few steps away, rubbing his eyes. “Hoping you would, I mean.”
Jongin feels his cheeks heating up and looks down at the floor to hide it. “I-I can’t stay long, I just... I wanted to thank you. For helping me.”
“You don’t need to,” Chanyeol says with a shrug. “I barely did anything, it was all you.”
Jongin glances up to frown at him. “We’re complete strangers, but you let me stay even though I teleported into your house.”
Chanyeol laughs. “Okay, you’re welcome for that,” he concedes, moving in again until he’s almost close enough for Jongin to reach out and touch.. “...Are we still strangers, though?”
Jongin looks down again, face hot. “I don’t want to be.”
“Good,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin can tell he’s smiling even if he doesn’t look up. “So we could, like, hang out? Sometime? I mean, you know how to get here now, so…”
“We could,” Jongin agrees, biting his lip to hide a smile of his own. “Just. On purpose, this time.”
“And maybe during the day,” Chanyeol adds.
“Don’t make me feel bad,” Jongin whines at him, but he can’t help returning the grin Chanyeol shoots him. “I should go, we’re both supposed to be asleep.”
Chanyeol nods and steps back, putting a comfortable distance between them. “Alright. Sleep well.”
“You too,” Jongin manages, then hesitates for a moment before stepping closer to Chanyeol again. He ignores the surprised expression on his face and leans up to press his lips to Chanyeol’s cheek - just a tiny peck, but it still turns both their faces bright red.
“Goodnight,” he whispers as he steps back, smiling shyly. Chanyeol reaches out for him just as he disappears, and Jongin takes with him the brief, fleeting feeling of Chanyeol’s hands pulling him in again.
> this fkcin twitter account