(turn me) on
(turn me) on
taoris; layhan; sekaisoo, xiuchen; ot12 basically
2, 903 words;
prologue / ?
tao is a stripper. kris writes to survive. yixing and luhan are drinking buddies. chanyeol and sehun are looking through the classified ads. yeah, this won't end well.
prologue; a bet
trouble stirs the moment six words have been spoken.
"you need to get a life." yixing says for what feels like the one hundred and thirty-eighth time. brown eyes survey kris's room. it's pristine--composed of flattering colors and glistening floorboards not showing a hint of dust. sunlight struggles to get in through the maroon curtains.
the infamous interior designers with their manicured fingers and slick tongues have dubbed kris's apartment as minimalist, futuristic. kris calls his place a paradise. yixing describes it as "the hell hole kris descends into whenever reality bites his ass."
shelves are occupied by a staggering number of books ranging from rusted classics--the ones people praise, but don't read--, to brilliant contemporary works, a handful of children's story books, and of course, an archive of his personal masterpieces. kris loathes half of what he writes, but he writes anyway, hoping to wake up one day and love something he created using only his fingertips and the backpack bulging with experience, ideas and words he'll never run out of.
"are you listening to me? i said, you need to get a life." the sharpness of yixing's voice pierces through the cloud of daydreams hovering just above kris's head. kris groans, wiping disbelief off his face with a hand.
"do we need to get through this again?" kris leans against his favorite leather chair, the one he wasted thousands of won on for the sole reason of comfort. it burned holes in his pocket, but satisfied his back. a fair deal. he stares at his editor and tries to mimic yixing's voice. "kris, you need to get a life. kris, you need to get out of this hell hole. kris, don't do this anymore. kris, you have to take care of yourself. kris, eat this. kris, stop smoking. kris, start exercising. kris, try to be more consistent. kris, be careful of your tenses. kris, be careful of what kind of air you inhale."
yixing's face reddens, irritation peeks through pink blushes. kris exaggerates, adding emphasis to things yixing hadn't exactly said, but only mentioned the vague outlines of. he curls his fingers to a fist, but the courage to punch asshole-kris leaves his system when kris stands up and yixing is reminded of their height difference.
"this is who i am. you don't have to lecture me, you know. i won't change."
"are you challenging me? i'm zhang yixing, of course i can try to change you. i don't care what sort of thing i'll have to do." yixing folds both arms across his chest. "or, what sort of scheme i have to resort to. i won't give up."
♕
"i give up!" yixing wails into his fourth, or is it, fifth cup of alcohol. "i don't think i can do this anymore. i should resign as his editor. he's so hard to manage. i give up!"
luhan sighs beside yixing. yixing claims that bar-hopping and bottles of liquor with brands too foreign to be pronounced are the new passageways to heaven. luhan tries to disagree during nights when they're both too drunk to even sing the alphabet, when they're too busy soaking in the dancing neons of crowded clubs to even contemplate about life.
drinking buddies, we're drinking buddies. yixing will slur out every time he can and then he'll drape an arm over luhan's slender shoulders as to not fall down and trip over a dick, like what he normally does. sleeping with guys is an accident, too. is one of yixing's favorite lines.
"i'm sure you can get through this," luhan manages to choke out. "i mean, you've been whining about this writer since last year and you're still whining now. i don't see how you're going to stop whining any time soon."
luhan swears it's the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream which made the words slip out of his tongue, not the truth itching to be spoken.
"don't you dare discourage me. i will rise through this. do you want to make a bet?" yixing challenges.
luhan knows better than to make a bet with people he only knows the first name of. he's smart enough to consider declining, yet too out of it to listen to the advice of his sanity. luhan nods, saying yes to everything that lies before him tonight. or any night really, as long as yixing is with him, staggering and complaining about the misfortunes of their lives. "go ahead, it's not like a lot of things get you excited."
yixing stares blankly at luhan before his lips stretches over his face in a smile. a fraction of a second, a tiny movement in the hands of a clock, this is how long it took for luhan to realize how great yixing looks when he's smiling. luhan rubs his eyes. yixing is still grinning. luhan is still overwhelmed. luhan drains the glass before him in one shot, as if the burning liquid racing down in his throat can dose out the fire starting somewhere inside him.
"six months. give me six months to find a solution to our kris-problem. if, by six months kris still remains the same hermit, cold and rude bastard that he is, then i'll really resign from my job. but if he doesn't, then can i fuck you?"
luhan's coughs, sputtering out the drink he'd been too shocked to swallow. "excuse me?"
"i'll fuck you. have sex with you. put my ying in your yang. shove my dick up your ass. do you like a chore--"
"i get it! i get it! shhh. you're so loud. maybe you need to go home." the darkness probably doesn't do much to cover the red blotches luhan can feel blooming on his cheeks. hammering, booming sound systems and incoherent conversation fills the bubble of silence yielded by luhan's index finger above yixing's lips. "shhh."
"so, are you up for it because i am." yixing says, syllables muffled by luhan's hand.
luhan observes yixing's profile in the light of the bar, mentally weighing out the pros and cons. something similar to determination is carved into yixing's tight jaw, the unwavering glance, but luhan recalls fragments of evenings splintered by yixing's groaning about kris's stubbornness and he thinks he might actually win this thing.
and so, jammed inside a dim venue reeking of nightlife and booze, luhan and yixing agrees to a bet. one that puts a melancholic writer, yixing's career, and most importantly, luhan's virginity on the line.
♕
kyungsoo became jongin's shadow.
it just happened. sometimes, things fall into place because they should. sometimes, you don't always like where things land. while it's true that kyungsoo's hands are too small to catch all the pain he wants to heal, it's also true that his fingers would never stop reaching for jongin.
this has been going on since an eternity ago.
and he’s used to it; the longing looks and “can you please step asides” jongin mutters whenever he’s working. kyungsoo chides himself into thinking he’s vital in jongin’s life. layers of sheets toast kyungsoo and jongin’s body. resting limbs are splayed out all over the king-sized bed they’ve picked for themselves years before, when jongin wasn’t too occupied, when he still remembers kyungsoo’s favorite color and made sure to purchase any item colored green.
in the protection of their room, kyungsoo searches for the cobwebs where memories of their good days are trapped; swindled in flimsy white ribbon, fragile and fleeting like the moments they hold. kyungsoo threads through this carefully. he blinks back their yesterdays.
“i will love you no matter what.” this was three years ago. han river bridge. the air had been as cold as the tips of their intertwined fingers. kyungsoo can’t forget the shade of red jongin’s cheeks had been, the way jongin’s hips felt under his palms as they waltzed through the night. magic and youth’s blinding allure had wrapped them in an embrace.
“and i will do the same.” kyungsoo had promised, twirling strands of jongin’s hair in hopes he can preserve this in his own little treasure box. hopelessly, recklessly, kyungsoo had fallen in love with the same man over and over again. “i love you and i don’t know how to stop, not that i want to.”
jongin’s groans smacks kyungsoo back down to the present. today’s truth haunts kyungsoo; jongin is lying beside him, on the same bed, nursing similar habits. thick, ebony black lashes cast shadows on the apples of jongin’s cheeks. this is normal. under sleep’s blanket, jongin smiles and this is normal, too.
but when kyungsoo brushes jongin’s jaw line, his nerves prick and kyungsoo gets the feeling that the man before him is now a stranger.
♕
invisible crickets hides in the pockets of darkness. their delightful chorus is swallowed by the lake of beeping horns and footsteps falling out of synch. yixing is enveloped in a babble of butchered korean. bathed in sweat, yixing excuses his way past grinding bodies and walls with their peeling paint.
the exo club might have been a lovely place once, but yixing thinks it’s a tragedy that he only gets to witness the aftermath of a deteriorating business. he sees the club at its final stages of annihilation. there’s still hands gripping metal poles. dirty cash continues to be tucked into the waistband of the dancers’ underwear as they try to hide what’s left of their pride. business goes on as usual, despite flashing evidences of it threatening to go down under.
some people are eager to make ends meet, and yixing is one of them.
he enters quickly, not a drop of alcohol in his system. yixing is planning to think and beat luhan sober. the stench of perspiration and smoke are tangible in the air. all yixing sees is skin; tanned men doing body waves on stage. he isn’t supposed to get all excited, so he blames the high temperature for the heat brewing inside him. he wonders how luhan would look like naked.
yixing gulps when another guy emerges from behind the curtains. he’s definitely younger, cockiness dots the ends of his tilted lips. he glides forward, joints slicked with grace; bare chest glistening under the lights. a stack of flaming red hair frames his sharp face. yixing can’t even begin counting the tattoos etched in the guy’s hips. he dances to the music and touches himself in a way that should have been illegal.
about a few meters away from the stage, yixing smirks. jackpot.
♕
the doorbell of baekhyun’s apartment buzzes unmercifully.
baekhyun whimpers, forcing exhausted legs to unglue themselves from the softness of his bed, just so he could get the unwelcomed noise to stop. he turns back and stares at his crumpled sheets and creased pillows. baekhyun is guilty of treating his bed like the lover he never had. “i’m going to come back for you, darling.”
“i’ll open it! i’ll open it!” baekhyun calls out and walks faster, a ringing feeling on his head. even before consciousness can catch up to him, baekhyun already has a concrete idea who’s standing on the other side of the door. in this floating scope comprised of over seven billion people, there’s only one human being baekhyun knows who would be insane enough to invade his personal space. yes, at this ungodly hour.
“what do you want, chanyeol?” baekhyun greets the moment he pulls the door open. chanyeol’s half-naked profile fills baekhyun’s vision. park chanyeol is a tall man. baekhyun barely reaches chanyeol’s shoulder.
“let me in, quick!” chanyeol panics, voice loud against the friendly silence of baekhyun’s apartment. he rushes inside and locks the door behind him, panting furiously while holding on to the white towel around his waist-the only barrier preventing baekhyun from going batshit crazy. chanyeol’s chest rises and falls heavily; an ear flattened to the wooden surface of baekhyun’s door.
“what are you doing? why are you here? why aren’t you dressed-“ questions after questions are thrown. chanyeol’s eyes widens and he muffles the shorter man by placing a hand over baekhyun’s mouth and pulling him close in an embrace.
wrapped in chanyeol’s arm, something aches in the vicinity of baekhyun’s left lung. but this is something he can handle. he holds his breath to listen to the pounding of chanyeol’s heart. it’s deafening. being this close, baekhyun can smell the aftershave and expensive cologne lingering on chanyeol’s neck.
“there’s a lady after me.” after a while, chanyeol loosens his hold on baekhyun’s waist, molding his hands down his hips. chanyeol’s fingers feel like they could dissimilate the fabric of baekhyun’s shirt into ashes and leave third degree burns from where he’s touching baekhyun. “sehun and i decided to have fun, yeah? so we thought of answering personal ads in those magazines. nothing much, just something to ease boredom. but, bam! my date turned out to be a total nutjob!”
chanyeol guides baekhyun away from the door. large hands now rest on the crook of baekhyun’s elbow and baekhyun is trying to do his best to rise through this catastrophe. “i mean she was hot, don’t get me wrong and she’s a couple of years older. but when we got to a motel and things started to get steamy, she started talking about commitment and marriage and i just had to get out of there as fast as i can!”
“baekbaek,” chanyeol grips baekhyun in place, using the nickname he bestowed on baekhyun one spring afternoon when they were young and baby teeth gleamed when they smiled, back when baekhyun did not yet know what the butterflies on his tummy fluttered for. “you need to help me. i can’t go back to my place because i accidentally told her where i live. she’s bonkers, baekbaek! she threw her shoes at me when i started running away and she even followed me here! well, i almost got her fingers broken when i closed the elevator’s door on her. don’t worry, i stopped two floors below yours and used the stairs of the fire exit. i’m sure she couldn’t track me up here. i think.”
a torrid of events gushes out of chanyeol’s mouth. baekhyun listens as chanyeoi's rash breathing morphs back to normal. he walks behind chanyeol and leans his forehead against the top of chanyeol's spine. "okay. okay. calm down, you're okay now."
baekhyun feels chanyeol relax, his muscles softening. then, in a voice that reminded baekhyun why he's doing this again, chanyeol says, "thank you, baek. you're the best."
"i know," baekhyun replies. chanyeol laughs. "i know."
♕
zitao thinks he's better than anyone else.
the mirror's honest reflection feeds the flames of his vanity. throughout his years of associating with people, zitao has collected a boxful of compliments; from whispered you're so hots to screamed i would kill just you fuck yous. these words makes him feel like he's got the whole world on the curves of his lap, and it isn't a bad thing to feel.
"tao, someone's here to see you. another customer, i think." zitao doesn't miss the tinge of envy in jongdae's voice. no one specifically comes for jongdae, just for zitao. it's a known fact etched in the minds of those who work in this club. "i better let them in."
tao nods, eyes following jongdae as he ushers a man inside. cruel mirrors, glowing bulbs, elaborate costumes and empty bottles of water are scattered all over the dressing room. the thin, wiry man takes all these details into his eyes. the same eyes stop looking around after landing on zitao's chest, snaking up to his face. zitao gets a kick out of seeing the man check him out.
"you must be zitao." his voice is huskier than what zitao thought it would be like. "my name is yixing and i need your, uh, services."
he's an unsure man. zitao nearly rolls his eyes at the uncertainty. "of course you do. everyone needs a piece of me. how much are you willing to pay? i'm not an easy one, you know."
"name your price. i don't care how much, i just need you to pull this off well." in a clipped tone, yixing recites the lines he practiced with luhan earlier. "i need you to seduce this person for me. my friend needs to get out more often and okay, i simply give up. but god knows i tried and i figured he should at least enjoy his life. i'll pay you for as long as i have to."
"you want me to seduce one of those introverted people? no thanks, it's a hard mountain to climb."
yixing thinks of kris; gloomy, depressed, morbid, little fucking kris. the reply hit home; kris is exactly like what zitao might envision him to be. he clenches his fist at his sides, because this is why he can't give up on kris as a person. "i'll pay you half of what you get in this rundown place in a week!"
at this, zitao visibly freezes and yixing thinks he can see the wheels of zitao's brain churning though his eyes. polite, curious and excited, yixing waits silently. he counts the seconds until zitao's lips part open and his world starts rotating again.
"alright, i'll take it. tell me the details and i'll start as soon as i can."
♕♕♕
one; "i know you want the D."
[note: i want you all to pray for me so i can finish this. no really. i don't know where this is going, i just opened word and thought 'i want to write something long and ot12 and wacky' and i started and pretty soon, ideas started coming and i was so riled up okay. maybe all in all, this will extend up to 45+ k? possibly more. anyway, thank you and pls don't kill me bc not koality. see what i did there]
taoris; layhan; sekaisoo, xiuchen; ot12 basically
2, 903 words;
prologue / ?
tao is a stripper. kris writes to survive. yixing and luhan are drinking buddies. chanyeol and sehun are looking through the classified ads. yeah, this won't end well.
prologue; a bet
trouble stirs the moment six words have been spoken.
"you need to get a life." yixing says for what feels like the one hundred and thirty-eighth time. brown eyes survey kris's room. it's pristine--composed of flattering colors and glistening floorboards not showing a hint of dust. sunlight struggles to get in through the maroon curtains.
the infamous interior designers with their manicured fingers and slick tongues have dubbed kris's apartment as minimalist, futuristic. kris calls his place a paradise. yixing describes it as "the hell hole kris descends into whenever reality bites his ass."
shelves are occupied by a staggering number of books ranging from rusted classics--the ones people praise, but don't read--, to brilliant contemporary works, a handful of children's story books, and of course, an archive of his personal masterpieces. kris loathes half of what he writes, but he writes anyway, hoping to wake up one day and love something he created using only his fingertips and the backpack bulging with experience, ideas and words he'll never run out of.
"are you listening to me? i said, you need to get a life." the sharpness of yixing's voice pierces through the cloud of daydreams hovering just above kris's head. kris groans, wiping disbelief off his face with a hand.
"do we need to get through this again?" kris leans against his favorite leather chair, the one he wasted thousands of won on for the sole reason of comfort. it burned holes in his pocket, but satisfied his back. a fair deal. he stares at his editor and tries to mimic yixing's voice. "kris, you need to get a life. kris, you need to get out of this hell hole. kris, don't do this anymore. kris, you have to take care of yourself. kris, eat this. kris, stop smoking. kris, start exercising. kris, try to be more consistent. kris, be careful of your tenses. kris, be careful of what kind of air you inhale."
yixing's face reddens, irritation peeks through pink blushes. kris exaggerates, adding emphasis to things yixing hadn't exactly said, but only mentioned the vague outlines of. he curls his fingers to a fist, but the courage to punch asshole-kris leaves his system when kris stands up and yixing is reminded of their height difference.
"this is who i am. you don't have to lecture me, you know. i won't change."
"are you challenging me? i'm zhang yixing, of course i can try to change you. i don't care what sort of thing i'll have to do." yixing folds both arms across his chest. "or, what sort of scheme i have to resort to. i won't give up."
♕
"i give up!" yixing wails into his fourth, or is it, fifth cup of alcohol. "i don't think i can do this anymore. i should resign as his editor. he's so hard to manage. i give up!"
luhan sighs beside yixing. yixing claims that bar-hopping and bottles of liquor with brands too foreign to be pronounced are the new passageways to heaven. luhan tries to disagree during nights when they're both too drunk to even sing the alphabet, when they're too busy soaking in the dancing neons of crowded clubs to even contemplate about life.
drinking buddies, we're drinking buddies. yixing will slur out every time he can and then he'll drape an arm over luhan's slender shoulders as to not fall down and trip over a dick, like what he normally does. sleeping with guys is an accident, too. is one of yixing's favorite lines.
"i'm sure you can get through this," luhan manages to choke out. "i mean, you've been whining about this writer since last year and you're still whining now. i don't see how you're going to stop whining any time soon."
luhan swears it's the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream which made the words slip out of his tongue, not the truth itching to be spoken.
"don't you dare discourage me. i will rise through this. do you want to make a bet?" yixing challenges.
luhan knows better than to make a bet with people he only knows the first name of. he's smart enough to consider declining, yet too out of it to listen to the advice of his sanity. luhan nods, saying yes to everything that lies before him tonight. or any night really, as long as yixing is with him, staggering and complaining about the misfortunes of their lives. "go ahead, it's not like a lot of things get you excited."
yixing stares blankly at luhan before his lips stretches over his face in a smile. a fraction of a second, a tiny movement in the hands of a clock, this is how long it took for luhan to realize how great yixing looks when he's smiling. luhan rubs his eyes. yixing is still grinning. luhan is still overwhelmed. luhan drains the glass before him in one shot, as if the burning liquid racing down in his throat can dose out the fire starting somewhere inside him.
"six months. give me six months to find a solution to our kris-problem. if, by six months kris still remains the same hermit, cold and rude bastard that he is, then i'll really resign from my job. but if he doesn't, then can i fuck you?"
luhan's coughs, sputtering out the drink he'd been too shocked to swallow. "excuse me?"
"i'll fuck you. have sex with you. put my ying in your yang. shove my dick up your ass. do you like a chore--"
"i get it! i get it! shhh. you're so loud. maybe you need to go home." the darkness probably doesn't do much to cover the red blotches luhan can feel blooming on his cheeks. hammering, booming sound systems and incoherent conversation fills the bubble of silence yielded by luhan's index finger above yixing's lips. "shhh."
"so, are you up for it because i am." yixing says, syllables muffled by luhan's hand.
luhan observes yixing's profile in the light of the bar, mentally weighing out the pros and cons. something similar to determination is carved into yixing's tight jaw, the unwavering glance, but luhan recalls fragments of evenings splintered by yixing's groaning about kris's stubbornness and he thinks he might actually win this thing.
and so, jammed inside a dim venue reeking of nightlife and booze, luhan and yixing agrees to a bet. one that puts a melancholic writer, yixing's career, and most importantly, luhan's virginity on the line.
♕
kyungsoo became jongin's shadow.
it just happened. sometimes, things fall into place because they should. sometimes, you don't always like where things land. while it's true that kyungsoo's hands are too small to catch all the pain he wants to heal, it's also true that his fingers would never stop reaching for jongin.
this has been going on since an eternity ago.
and he’s used to it; the longing looks and “can you please step asides” jongin mutters whenever he’s working. kyungsoo chides himself into thinking he’s vital in jongin’s life. layers of sheets toast kyungsoo and jongin’s body. resting limbs are splayed out all over the king-sized bed they’ve picked for themselves years before, when jongin wasn’t too occupied, when he still remembers kyungsoo’s favorite color and made sure to purchase any item colored green.
in the protection of their room, kyungsoo searches for the cobwebs where memories of their good days are trapped; swindled in flimsy white ribbon, fragile and fleeting like the moments they hold. kyungsoo threads through this carefully. he blinks back their yesterdays.
“i will love you no matter what.” this was three years ago. han river bridge. the air had been as cold as the tips of their intertwined fingers. kyungsoo can’t forget the shade of red jongin’s cheeks had been, the way jongin’s hips felt under his palms as they waltzed through the night. magic and youth’s blinding allure had wrapped them in an embrace.
“and i will do the same.” kyungsoo had promised, twirling strands of jongin’s hair in hopes he can preserve this in his own little treasure box. hopelessly, recklessly, kyungsoo had fallen in love with the same man over and over again. “i love you and i don’t know how to stop, not that i want to.”
jongin’s groans smacks kyungsoo back down to the present. today’s truth haunts kyungsoo; jongin is lying beside him, on the same bed, nursing similar habits. thick, ebony black lashes cast shadows on the apples of jongin’s cheeks. this is normal. under sleep’s blanket, jongin smiles and this is normal, too.
but when kyungsoo brushes jongin’s jaw line, his nerves prick and kyungsoo gets the feeling that the man before him is now a stranger.
♕
invisible crickets hides in the pockets of darkness. their delightful chorus is swallowed by the lake of beeping horns and footsteps falling out of synch. yixing is enveloped in a babble of butchered korean. bathed in sweat, yixing excuses his way past grinding bodies and walls with their peeling paint.
the exo club might have been a lovely place once, but yixing thinks it’s a tragedy that he only gets to witness the aftermath of a deteriorating business. he sees the club at its final stages of annihilation. there’s still hands gripping metal poles. dirty cash continues to be tucked into the waistband of the dancers’ underwear as they try to hide what’s left of their pride. business goes on as usual, despite flashing evidences of it threatening to go down under.
some people are eager to make ends meet, and yixing is one of them.
he enters quickly, not a drop of alcohol in his system. yixing is planning to think and beat luhan sober. the stench of perspiration and smoke are tangible in the air. all yixing sees is skin; tanned men doing body waves on stage. he isn’t supposed to get all excited, so he blames the high temperature for the heat brewing inside him. he wonders how luhan would look like naked.
yixing gulps when another guy emerges from behind the curtains. he’s definitely younger, cockiness dots the ends of his tilted lips. he glides forward, joints slicked with grace; bare chest glistening under the lights. a stack of flaming red hair frames his sharp face. yixing can’t even begin counting the tattoos etched in the guy’s hips. he dances to the music and touches himself in a way that should have been illegal.
about a few meters away from the stage, yixing smirks. jackpot.
♕
the doorbell of baekhyun’s apartment buzzes unmercifully.
baekhyun whimpers, forcing exhausted legs to unglue themselves from the softness of his bed, just so he could get the unwelcomed noise to stop. he turns back and stares at his crumpled sheets and creased pillows. baekhyun is guilty of treating his bed like the lover he never had. “i’m going to come back for you, darling.”
“i’ll open it! i’ll open it!” baekhyun calls out and walks faster, a ringing feeling on his head. even before consciousness can catch up to him, baekhyun already has a concrete idea who’s standing on the other side of the door. in this floating scope comprised of over seven billion people, there’s only one human being baekhyun knows who would be insane enough to invade his personal space. yes, at this ungodly hour.
“what do you want, chanyeol?” baekhyun greets the moment he pulls the door open. chanyeol’s half-naked profile fills baekhyun’s vision. park chanyeol is a tall man. baekhyun barely reaches chanyeol’s shoulder.
“let me in, quick!” chanyeol panics, voice loud against the friendly silence of baekhyun’s apartment. he rushes inside and locks the door behind him, panting furiously while holding on to the white towel around his waist-the only barrier preventing baekhyun from going batshit crazy. chanyeol’s chest rises and falls heavily; an ear flattened to the wooden surface of baekhyun’s door.
“what are you doing? why are you here? why aren’t you dressed-“ questions after questions are thrown. chanyeol’s eyes widens and he muffles the shorter man by placing a hand over baekhyun’s mouth and pulling him close in an embrace.
wrapped in chanyeol’s arm, something aches in the vicinity of baekhyun’s left lung. but this is something he can handle. he holds his breath to listen to the pounding of chanyeol’s heart. it’s deafening. being this close, baekhyun can smell the aftershave and expensive cologne lingering on chanyeol’s neck.
“there’s a lady after me.” after a while, chanyeol loosens his hold on baekhyun’s waist, molding his hands down his hips. chanyeol’s fingers feel like they could dissimilate the fabric of baekhyun’s shirt into ashes and leave third degree burns from where he’s touching baekhyun. “sehun and i decided to have fun, yeah? so we thought of answering personal ads in those magazines. nothing much, just something to ease boredom. but, bam! my date turned out to be a total nutjob!”
chanyeol guides baekhyun away from the door. large hands now rest on the crook of baekhyun’s elbow and baekhyun is trying to do his best to rise through this catastrophe. “i mean she was hot, don’t get me wrong and she’s a couple of years older. but when we got to a motel and things started to get steamy, she started talking about commitment and marriage and i just had to get out of there as fast as i can!”
“baekbaek,” chanyeol grips baekhyun in place, using the nickname he bestowed on baekhyun one spring afternoon when they were young and baby teeth gleamed when they smiled, back when baekhyun did not yet know what the butterflies on his tummy fluttered for. “you need to help me. i can’t go back to my place because i accidentally told her where i live. she’s bonkers, baekbaek! she threw her shoes at me when i started running away and she even followed me here! well, i almost got her fingers broken when i closed the elevator’s door on her. don’t worry, i stopped two floors below yours and used the stairs of the fire exit. i’m sure she couldn’t track me up here. i think.”
a torrid of events gushes out of chanyeol’s mouth. baekhyun listens as chanyeoi's rash breathing morphs back to normal. he walks behind chanyeol and leans his forehead against the top of chanyeol's spine. "okay. okay. calm down, you're okay now."
baekhyun feels chanyeol relax, his muscles softening. then, in a voice that reminded baekhyun why he's doing this again, chanyeol says, "thank you, baek. you're the best."
"i know," baekhyun replies. chanyeol laughs. "i know."
♕
zitao thinks he's better than anyone else.
the mirror's honest reflection feeds the flames of his vanity. throughout his years of associating with people, zitao has collected a boxful of compliments; from whispered you're so hots to screamed i would kill just you fuck yous. these words makes him feel like he's got the whole world on the curves of his lap, and it isn't a bad thing to feel.
"tao, someone's here to see you. another customer, i think." zitao doesn't miss the tinge of envy in jongdae's voice. no one specifically comes for jongdae, just for zitao. it's a known fact etched in the minds of those who work in this club. "i better let them in."
tao nods, eyes following jongdae as he ushers a man inside. cruel mirrors, glowing bulbs, elaborate costumes and empty bottles of water are scattered all over the dressing room. the thin, wiry man takes all these details into his eyes. the same eyes stop looking around after landing on zitao's chest, snaking up to his face. zitao gets a kick out of seeing the man check him out.
"you must be zitao." his voice is huskier than what zitao thought it would be like. "my name is yixing and i need your, uh, services."
he's an unsure man. zitao nearly rolls his eyes at the uncertainty. "of course you do. everyone needs a piece of me. how much are you willing to pay? i'm not an easy one, you know."
"name your price. i don't care how much, i just need you to pull this off well." in a clipped tone, yixing recites the lines he practiced with luhan earlier. "i need you to seduce this person for me. my friend needs to get out more often and okay, i simply give up. but god knows i tried and i figured he should at least enjoy his life. i'll pay you for as long as i have to."
"you want me to seduce one of those introverted people? no thanks, it's a hard mountain to climb."
yixing thinks of kris; gloomy, depressed, morbid, little fucking kris. the reply hit home; kris is exactly like what zitao might envision him to be. he clenches his fist at his sides, because this is why he can't give up on kris as a person. "i'll pay you half of what you get in this rundown place in a week!"
at this, zitao visibly freezes and yixing thinks he can see the wheels of zitao's brain churning though his eyes. polite, curious and excited, yixing waits silently. he counts the seconds until zitao's lips part open and his world starts rotating again.
"alright, i'll take it. tell me the details and i'll start as soon as i can."
♕♕♕
one; "i know you want the D."
[note: i want you all to pray for me so i can finish this. no really. i don't know where this is going, i just opened word and thought 'i want to write something long and ot12 and wacky' and i started and pretty soon, ideas started coming and i was so riled up okay. maybe all in all, this will extend up to 45+ k? possibly more. anyway, thank you and pls don't kill me bc not koality. see what i did there]