oh, rats.
the very minute exo-k gets latched onto the newest season of 'hello baby', all hell breaks loose in china.
“this isn’t fair!” screeches minseok, unconsciously revisiting his screamo part in 'mama'. “the only one who will take care of the kid is joonmyun, and that's only because he was practically born a grandpa. chanyeol will just scare it away with his pedophiliac face; baekhyun is practically its size; kyungsoo's eyes will be bigger than the kid's entire body, hence traumatizing it; jongin won't give a fuck about it; and sehun will disrupt its ability to pronounce the letter 's' in the future!”
yifan presses his fingers to his temples. “we'll get to guest-star on an episode or two, so relax, and - “
“ - roll like a buffalo.” zitao interrupts innocently, his lips forming a tiny smirk of self-pride. it disappears within .2 seconds after their leader shoots him a look. “sorry, duizhang.”
“but minseok is right,” protests lu han, nose scrunching up in distaste. “why should we rot here in china while they get all the fun? we have good variety skills, too! i mean, yixing is practically the chinese version of shirley temple - without the curls, obviously - but you don't see any producers rushing up to get him on their show!”
upon hearing his name mentioned, yixing lazily looks up from the couch, where he's playing fruit ninja in zen mode (because it doesn't require a long attention span) avidly.
jongdae, who has been leaning against the doorway from the beginning, debating whether or not to put his two cents in, decides to intervene. “the thing is, hyung,” he begins diplomatically, “there are no such shows here in china, so we can't exactly complain.” yifan emits a sigh of relief and glances at jongdae pointedly, as if to channel his thanks, but he must've gotten it wrong somewhere because the boy just pales.
“it's still not fair, though,” groans zitao, trudging sulkily toward the couch. he lifts yixing's legs up and sits down. the older conveniently places his legs on the younger's lap (while slicing three watermelons in a row and grinning to himself at the sound of the huge splats) but doesn't say much on the matter. as per usual.
his forehead denting with a frown, yifan questions: “well, what the hell am i supposed to do? i'm not lee sooman or kim youngmin. i can fly and all, sure, but i can't change the rules!”
minseok rolls his eyes at the offhand statement (yifan always speaks of his 'power' so offhandedly until the rest of them are starting to worry if he actually believes it) and eventually comments, “your gaze alone can tear sehun away from his bubble tea, so i'm sure you can do something about it.”
a dangerous little smile materializes on lu han's face. “do something, duizhang kris,” he singsongs in a voice that sends chills down jongdae's spine, “or i will make zitao pull out the 'bbuing bbuing'. in full force. all day long.”
that very day, yifan goes to the pet shop and purchases the smallest pet he could find.
“you got us a rodent.”
offended, the leader exclaims, “don't make it sound so disgusting! it's a perfectly harmless little white rat. cute, too, if you ask me.” he affectionately pats the tiny rat on the head but ends up pushing too hard; the rat's head bobs downward with a jerk. lu han leers. “you can't even stroke it properly! this isn't exactly what i had in mind, yifan.”
“then what did you expect him to do? adopt a baby from an orphanage?” challenges yixing, shaking his head. he sticks his finger into the cage and grins a little when the rat tickles his finger with its whiskers. he drawls, “this isn't too bad. it is pretty cute.” he ignores yifan's obvious preening. a long beat of silence followed. “yeah, it's a pretty decent pet,” declares zitao, pulling out his iphone to take a (selca of himself ft. their pet to send to exo-k) photo of their new member.
“what should we name it?” minseok asks, toying with the food and water bowls that yifan has purchased for their pet. he makes the mistake of looking at lu han, and immediately diverts his attention elsewhere when he notices the mischievous flicker in the latter's wide, porcelain-doll eyes. “no!” he splutters before lu han's lips could even form the first syllable of the word. “no, no, no, no, no!”
jongdae's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "hyung...?" he mumbles, looking at minseok, and then lu han. he becomes even more befuddled when he sees yifan chuckling to himself, the lower half of his face hidden behind his gigantic hand, his shoulders moving up and down. even yixing (sm's resident space cadet, for god's sakes) smirks knowingly. dammit, he feels so frustrated when that guy gets a joke that he, exo's dancing machine, doesn't.
“welcome to our home, baozi!” cheers zitao, tickling the rat underneath its chin. lu han nods approvingly and pats the younger boy on the head.
“ah, hyung,” the chirpy voice of exo-k's leader resounds in yifan's ear. “how are you? i called to ask you something on behalf of manager-hyung!”
this makes yifan raise an eyebrow, before quickly stopping himself (his eyebrows may be huge but that doesn't mean they can be seen from seoul) when he realizes that joonmyun can't see him doing so. he settles for a casual comment: “which is?”
“you know how we've just signed onto the newest season of 'hello baby', right? manager-hyung told me to ask you if you guys wanna come over and appear as our special guests sometime! they'll book all the plane tickets and stuff for you. it'll be so much fun,” burbles joonmyun happily, radiating sunshine, glitter and rainbows even from miles and miles away.
yifan considers this. he's sprawled on the couch in the living room at the moment, watching his members play with baozi (the rat, not the human nor the food). they seem to be the very epitome of bliss. currently, the white rat is nestled in jongdae's palm, doing absolutely nothing, and yet everyone is cooing over it.
“oh, baozi, you are the love of my life!” gushes yixing - who has abandoned fruit ninja in favor of their new companion - lovingly patting the rat and ignoring all weird looks from minseok.
“we're having a good time right now,” says yifan finally. “maybe we'll just stay put.”
the apartment is perfectly silent, save for the sound of thunderous footsteps approaching the room that is shared by lu han and yixing. the duo, casually drinking tea in their dimly lighted space, jump (yixing accidentally spills his tea onto his pajama pants) when the door is thrown open so hard it bounces back on its hinges.
“jongdae? what're you doing here?” lu han sets his mug on his bedside table and stands up. he eyes the korean carefully, searching for signs of any possible impending attacks. there are none.
“what the hell was that noi - “
yixing waves his hands violently in front of him - “sssshhhh!” - in an attempt to shut yifan up. the leader complies, but stands in the doorway nonetheless, should anything happen. presently, he is joined by minseok (baozi in his hand) and zitao, who stares at yifan's herbal face mask but chooses not to comment on it. if he does, there're only two options: either yifan would knock him on the head and then proceed to explain the details of his beauty regime before forcing zitao to join him; or yifan would knock him on the head - twice.
“hyung,” begins jongdae, his voice calm and calculated, “according to the duty roster that duizhang has made for us, it is your turn to feed baozi today - and yesterday, and tomorrow - but you're not doing it. i had to do it. this isn't fair.”
visibly relieved, lu han breaks into a pleasant smile. “oh, is that all? whew, i thought you came stomping in here because of some big issue!” he returns to his bed, picks his mug up once more (only after flashing the irritated boy with another rosy grin) and takes a delicate sip. yixing slices six fruits in a row, punctuating the episode in a rather sinister manner. when jongdae - nor the others - doesn't leave the room, lu han sighs. “why're you guys still here?”
“lu han-hyung,” jongdae says pointedly. “feed baozi. now.” never before has he ever spoken in such a manner to lu han, which is why an audible gasp falls over the room. “shit's gonna go down,” whispers zitao to no one in particular, slowly pulling his iphone out from his pocket.
the perfect little smile still in place, lu han responds, “now, now, don't take that tone with me, jongdae-ah. i'm your hyung, remember? you do what i tell you to, dongsaeng.”
sensing the tension in the air (for once), yixing's finger stops mid-slice. he glances at his roommate. “lu - “
“if you don't feed it,” jongdae threatens, and his eyes develop this glazed, half-hysterical look that they have only seen on chanyeol before, "i will sit on your bed. i. will sit. on your. bed. heck, i will sleep in it and drool all over your pillows!”
lu han drops the cherubic façade immediately. “you wouldn't dare, kim jongdae.” his voice lower and more threatening than usual. eyes opening so wide that his mask cracks, yifan takes a step forward.
“chenchen, please - “
without another word, jongdae lunges toward the bed that is currently occupied by lu han with surprising speed. “jongdae! no!” roars minseok, diving after the younger boy and clutching his fingers around thin air. “jongdaeeeee!” zitao remains rooted by the door (phone set to camera mode), just viewing the spectacle unfolding before him without much concern. thanks to his long legs, yifan manages to reach jongdae just in time before the latter could catapult onto lu han's bed.
“kim jongdae! do you have the rabies? you are nuts!” lu han screams, clutching his pillows to his chest. his face is contorted in horror as he stares at his insane band mate, who, despite being retrained by minseok, yifan and even yixing, still refuses to budge.
“feed baozi!” yells jongdae, thrashing against his members' hold. the older boy shouts back: “no!”
flailing (he's too fragile for this, dammit) uncontrollably, yixing yelps, “just go feed the damn rat, lu han!”" his roommate shoots him a dirty look. “i said no to kim jongdae, and now i'm saying no to you, zhang yixing.” what happens next is too quick for them to catch, not until it's much too late and the damage has been done.
jongdae deliberately raises his left foot - clad in a soiled adidas sneaker - and slams it onto lu han's bed, grinding it into the bed sheets.
in the midst of lu han's brawl with jongdae, that now includes yixing (“why am i dragged into this? i will slice you! both of you!”), yifan's phone rings.
“ah, hyung! listen, are you sure you don't wanna - “
“get - off!” pants minseok, attempting to pry jongdae away from the two roommates. although he is supposed to be the strongest of them all, jongdae, in his moment of fury, has increased considerably in strength. “fuck - off - hyung!” he pushes the eldest away, knocking him into lu han's bedside table. the mug teeters dangerously before toppling over, pouring hot tea directly onto lu han's pretty little head. he howls.
meanwhile, zitao has just realized that baozi the rat is still in the hands of baozi the person, and the latter is obviously a little occupied right now. so, without thinking, he makes his way into the wriggling heap of boys and quickly retrieves the rat.
holding it close to his cheek, zitao crows, “say 'cheese', baozi!” he 'bbuing bbuing's to the camera with the rat in his hand. uncomfortable with the position, baozi struggles out of zitao's hand and falls directly into the pit (aka the pile that is made up of lu han, jongdae, yixing and now minseok) below.
“lu han! you sat on baozi! get off! get offfffff!” cries yixing, desperately searching for the tiny rat that has been mercilessly crushed by luhan. devastated, minseok exclaims, “you killed it, you asshole! you killed mini-me!” he slaps lu han across the face, successfully triggering world war iv.
yifan closes his eyes. “shut up already about the stupid tv show, joonmyun! i'm in deeper shit than you are here!” and he hangs up.
“we are gathered here today,” begins yifan morosely, “to mourn the death of baozi the white rat, a friend who has been very dear to us all - except for lu han, its murderer.” lu han snorts.
the six of them are gathered at the playground behind their apartment, set to bury baozi, whose untimely death is caused by what is to be known to exo-m as world war iii; during which jongdae throttled luhan so hard the latter's cheekbones are now ringed with blue bruises.
“yixing? would you like to say a few words?” the younger boy shakes his head tearfully, too traumatized and upset - he was the one who discovered baozi's dead body, kicked under his bed by minseok - by the event.
“now don't you wish you'd fed him, hyung?” spits jongdae, rubbing his sore jaw. he scowls at the chinese boy out of the corner of his (half-closed, black) eye. “shut your yap, chenchen,” warns yifan, before looking at minseok and zitao. “do you guys have anything to say to our late pet?”
“i'll miss you, my selca friend,” zitao murmurs, gently patting the raised ground which has become baozi's resting spot for all eternity. “whenever i take a selca - especially with minseok-gege - i will remember you. bbuing bbuing!” yifan awkwardly pats yixing on the shoulder as the latter wails at zitao's parting message.
clearing his throat, minseok announces, “baozi, although we only had you for - “
yifan's ring tone blares, disrupting their emotional moment. sheepishly, he answers it. “hello?”
“ah, hyung,” says joonmyun, although he sounds a little meek now, “i understand how you feel about this, but manager-hyung - “
“yes! yes, we'll be on the show! please! i take back whatever i said! we agree! 'hello baby' it is!”