Sanctions of imprudence for yuraxchan
For: yuraxchan
Title: Sanctions of Imprudence
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Chen, Chanyeol/Kai
Rating: R for various muted mature situations
Warning(s): Drug abuse, biblical references, sharp plot turn, character death.
Length: 7.4k
Summary: Growing up with Jongin, Chanyeol never thought he would turn this naughty, but everything changes when he reunites with old-time bestie Jongdae.
Author's note: Hi recipient, I hope this fulfills your expectation~ I had a fun time with Jongdae in this fic, and I hope you will, too. Thank you to my cutest nocturnal noodle for being a helpful, albeit unwilling, reader, and to Mod senpai for bearing with this giant excuse of a participant. Please enjoy and give this story lots of love.
Chanyeol is terrified of the idea of college: party. Things worse than party. Free time with nothing to do. Group projects. Bratty seniors. Things worse than bratty seniors. Waking up late to meet failure.
So when Chanyeol steps out of high school and the safe warmth of his painfully devout parents, he tries his best to keep to his roots and stay in his track: Go to school, socialize as necessary, go home. Limit social booze, keep going to church, go home. His years of hard work has earned him a seat in the last letter of the s.k.y-high national dream: the deep-blue party capital of all the colleges in Seoul. Makes his knees wobble and eyes tear up upon realization.
So he walks in, together with his college sweetheart, high school bestie, and fellow nice boy, Jongin, to the wilderness of Yonsei Law-Jongin hoping to become a righteous judge, and Chanyeol a righteous attorney. Chanyeol has grown together with Jongin since Jongin moved in next door in sixth grade: all the bike rides by the river, all the ice cream picnics and occasional coffee (chai tea for Jongin), all the fluttery feelings they always refuse to admit. They kissed once out of joyous spontaneity, followed by awkward silence, when they opened their admission letters in front of each other.
“There’s our law school, Chanyeol. Looks like a prison if you think about it,” Jongin whispers as they walk in, looking at the shiny corridors and tall ceilings with wonder, until they separate for class. Chanyeol’s lecturer’s amazing, of course: Ivy League graduate, work experience at a Global Elite law firm, all that good stuff, all here to spend his elder years at home to teach these young and budding morons that will lead the future of Korea’s justice. Chanyeol’s first day in college easily sweeps him off his feet, until this square-faced guy in his puffy varsity jacket shoves a pamphlet in Chanyeol’s hand, happily yapping, “Hi, Green Leaf! Wanna join the EDM club?”
Chanyeol looks down, brings the pamphlet to his face and reads it thoroughly.
“We are a bunch of enthusiastic, expert connoisseurs of electronic dance music, and we listen to new findings every Friday while we get down around town! We also make our own awesome songs and have free lessons on Reason, Ableton and other programs for DAW enthusiasts!”
Chanyeol’s ears perk at the mention of those brand name softwares, and he looks at the senior before him. Jongin, who fetched Chanyeol when they got out of class, is peeking dispassionately while popping walnut cakes from a paper pouch. Jongin shoves one walnut cake into Chanyeol’s mouth, subtly tugs on Chanyeol’s elbow. Come on, let’s go. The thought of Skrillex’s half-bald head scares Jongin already.
“By any chance, are you Park Chanyeol?” the senior asks. Chanyeol squints. He doesn’t look like anyone he’s introduced himself to today. Chanyeol wonders if he’s already famous on his first day. “It’s me, Jongdae,” the senior says.
Chanyeol gasps. Jongin looks at Chanyeol, and now has to look at them both because they’re brohugging each other so tight. Jongin’s eyesight diverts when he sees a long, arrowed red tail, just like those of the devils from Tom and Jerry, come out of Jongdae’s ass, flicking happily. Jongin gapes in fear, and the devil tail disappears.
Meanwhile, Chanyeol and Jongdae release from their long-awaited brohug. “This is Jongin,” Chanyeol introduces, and Jongin keeps his trembling, stubby hands by his sides when he bows to Jongdae senpai, afraid that his wobbly handshake will meet empty air.
“Hi Jongin, nice to meet you,” Jongdae senpai greets happily, offering a handshake.
Jongin shivers. Should he take the handshake and die?
“Don’t leave me hangin’, Green Leaf.”
Jongin sucks in a deep breath and shakes Jongdae senpai’s hand. To Jongin’s surprise, Jongdae senpai yelps upon contact. His hand glows and sizzles. Jongin shivers in caution.
“Oh no. Are you okay?” Chanyeol and Jongin ask.
Jongdae senpai smiles reassuringly, holding his bright red right hand. “I’m fine. We just seem to catch more… electrical currents, don’t we, Jongin?” Jongin looks at him and sees that look in his eyes.
“Um, Jongdae,” Chanyeol asks, unconsciously breaking the awkward tension. “How can you be promoting a club on your first day of school?”
“I’m a sophomore! They made me skip one year in high school after I left, so here I am, pulling y’all babies to the dark side.”
Chanyeol nods in understanding, while Jongin vigorously tugs Chanyeol’s elbow hoping to get out of there immediately.
“Alright! I think we’ll be leaving for lunch. We’re hungry,” Chanyeol closes up. Jongdae senpai made sure that they exchanged phone numbers and KKT IDs before letting Chanyeol and Jongin leave. “Oh and,” Chanyeol adds, for good measure, “do I call you sunbae now?”
“Nah. Just when we’re around people.” Jongdae shrugs. “Or when we’re not around people,” he adds suggestively.
Chanyeol laughs at the raunchy joke, but Jongin is close to splitting Chanyeol’s arm into two by now. They need to leave right this minute. “Alright, alright,” Chanyeol humors his companion and bids goodbye to Jongdae, “See you!”
They walk away so quickly through the school’s intricate bush arrangements, mostly motored by Jongin’s fear. “He scares me. He’s so different in real life than what you say about him,” Jongin explains as soon as they hear Jongdae resume shouting for more freshman souls to reap. Chanyeol doesn’t understand. Chanyeol’s been telling only nice things about his old friend Jongdae to Jongin. Jongin only shivers. “But his hand sizzles, Chanyeol. No human hand sizzles like that.”
“But he goes to the EDM Club! What kind of college even has an EDM club? Isn’t this exciting? I’m so hyped up for our first meeting.”
Come Friday, Chanyeol leaves class for his dorm and dresses up carefully: casual enough to look cool, nice enough to make a first impression. Jongin asks where he’s headed, and Chanyeol excitedly answers, “EDM Club! We’re gonna have so much fun!”Jongin is sitting on his bed, reading yet another translated novel.
“They make you drink a ton of alcohol for all club initiations. We promised ourselves not to drink in any circumstances, remember?”
“I don’t think I can avoid it, but I’ll be careful.”
“That’s breaking a promise already,” Jongin tries to complain.
“I won’t break it any further.”
Chanyeol does not forget to kiss the top of Jongin’s head goodbye and ruffle Jongin’s cute hair before he leaves.
Upon entering school grounds and arriving at the room appointed for EDM meetings, Chanyeol learns that Jongdae (without surprise) has a swarm of extremely swanky friends. The room is a small, dedicated room at the Student Center, with two specialized PCs armed with professional speakers, just like the ones Chanyeol has seen on YouTube. The club has three active seniors, a few active juniors, eleven sophomores, and twenty new recruits, mostly lured in by Jongdae’s lie of “WE GO CLUBBIN ALL THE TIME”. Only a mere handful of them came in for the craft.
The seniors have to find a clever way to treat so many mouths without killing their own flat pockets, so the freshmen were taken to their ‘real headquarters’ for a night of spiked punches, spicy chicken bites, and clap-based drinking games. The real headquarters, an even more impressive space, is just a short walk outside the campus: it's one of the juniors’ unused compartments, just an empty room with one coffee table, with a population density of one synthesizer and one comforter per square meter.
When given the white styrofoam cup by his old friend Jongdae senpai, of course Chanyeol hesitates, because this seemingly innocent fruit punch will definitely bite like a serpent and make him see weird things, say bad things. He only holds the cup with two hands, stares at the floor.
"Take it and get it over with. Everyone's watching you," Jongdae senpai advises. Chanyeol hesitates. This time, no one sees the crimson glint in Jongdae's eyes, the sharp curl in Jongdae's fingernails.
Chanyeol looks around the room and looks at his new comrades' enthused eyes. He closes his eyes and sips the punch.
"This isn't as weird as I thought," he comments to himself, and finishes the glass. The whole room cheers. He's not even legal yet, thanks to his mom for bearing him in virtually December. From the corner of his eye, Chanyeol watches as Jongdae senpai cackles like a hyena.
Just some three hours later, Chanyeol is hammered after losing bout after bout of the Rabbit Game, downing what possibly is his fifth, eighth, punch. The seniors, worried, start to allow the faint-hearted to either go home or pass out on their floors.
Jongdae senpai pulls a heavy and whining Chanyeol up to walk him to the dorms. In Jongdae's arms, drunken Chanyeol blabbers about a lot of things. "I should have used more fighting agility when I was playing rabbit, Jongdae ya. You know, the pow, pow! I am top notch full of concentration.”
Chanyeol burps, and Jongdae snickers. Chanyeol hums as he thinks. “Do you know how smitten I am with my roommate? You remember? The guy that was with me when you were promoting EDM Club. Yeah. He was the boy who moved into your old apartment. We hung out all the time in high school. Have ice cream after church. Don't you see how precious he is? Cinnamon roll too good for the world. So warm, so pure."
Jongdae repositions Chanyeol and lets his tail flick out and help his tired arms. They manage to get to Chanyeol’s dorm. Jongdae bites back.
“I think you should remember how fucking smitten you were with me when I taught you how to make sandpoop in the sandbox every day.”
“Hehehe. Sandpoop.” Chanyeol giggles heavily. “Jongdae, you funny.”
Jongdae knocks the door only to be greeted by Chanyeol's very scared, precious Jongin--who definitely saw his tail slip-up on the first day of school. Jongdae has to squint-this college boy is literally goddamn bright-but he greets the terrified boy happily as he hands Chanyeol to him. “Hi Jongin-kun! Our Chanyeol kinda drank too much tonight, but at least he didn't barf. He definitely had a lot of fun. You should have joined us!”
"He drank?" Jongin asks in mild shock while receiving Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s tall body almost eclipses Jongin’s glow in Jongdae’s eyes.
"Aw, is he not supposed to? I’m sorry about that. Don't worry, everything will be just fine." Jongdae senpai reassures, and patted Jongin’s shoulder, careful not to touch his skin again. "It’s college: it’s your time in life to learn how to be naughty! Just make sure he’s in good shape to be in school on Monday, okay? See ya!"
Jongin bows and when he lifts his head, Jongdae senpai is gone.
Jongin closes the door, lays the heavy Chanyeol on the bed beside his, and blankets him. Jongin sits on the floor by Chanyeol’s bed and Chanyeol gurgles a, “Jongin, is that you?” and Jongin pays attention to whatever Chanyeol is about to slur away.
“Yes, Chanyeol?”
“Thank you for always taking care of me. I hope I’ll be able to show you how much I care about you back.” Chanyeol yawns, the strange fruity stench crawling warmly to Jongin’s virgin nose. “I’m sleepy. But you’re very lovely. And very cute. And very nice.” Chanyeol yawns again. “Before I go to bed, uh… I love you.”
Jongin doesn’t say anything, but he watches as Chanyeol falls asleep, and ends up sleeping on the floor with his head on Chanyeol’s bed. He duly wakes up to make noodles, and revives a headache-struck Chanyeol the next morning with the smell of extra-spicy ramen with an egg on top. Chanyeol groans in pain and confusion.
“Good morning,” Jongin says, clacking the piping hot bowl on the nightstand separating their narrow beds. He leaves the bedroom and comes back with a big glass of water.
“What is that?” Chanyeol asks.
“Breakfast.” Jongin sits on his own bed and watches Chanyeol sit himself up, hiding his face in his big palms to groan a remorseful, “Gosh, what have I done,” but Jongin goes to Chanyeol’s bed and gives Chanyeol his bowl of noodles.
“Eat up. Before it gets cold,” Jongin says. Chanyeol receives the bowl and slurps up, and Jongin fiddles with his own fingers. He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I know you probably didn’t mean it when you said you love me,” he starts. Chanyeol looks up to Jongin. “But I love you.”
Chanyeol smiles to himself and resumes eating. “Thank you. I love you.”
Jongin takes Chanyeol’s dishes for him as soon as he finishes eating. Chanyeol cannot remember anything past leaving for EDM Club, does not even remember when or how he fell asleep, but Jongin comes back from the kitchen and climbs in his bed, asks him if he feels better now as he caresses his hair. Chanyeol sits himself up and, to Jongin’s surprise, leans on Jongin. Jongin is a smidge too short and narrow for Chanyeol to lean comfortably, but Chanyeol is too absent to sigh any ungrateful complaints.
“I want you to do something for me,” Jongin asks softly. Chanyeol turns his head slightly, waiting for Jongin to continue. “Please stop hanging out with Jongdae-sunbaenim.”
They walk to school as usual the following Monday, only with Jongin reprimanding Chanyeol about the difference between social drinking, forced drinking, and drinking his ass off, and Chanyeol nods obediently to whatever Jongin says. Deep down, Chanyeol likes his adventures with Jongdae more than he will like to admit.
Chanyeol and Jongin part ways to head to their respective buildings for the day, and Chanyeol calmly walks to the prison-shaped Law building, until Jongdae flips down grinning in his face like a new page on a calendar.
“What on earth!” Chanyeol exclaims to Upside-Down Jongdae on a tree.
“Hey there, hi there, ho there! Isn’t studying Law as happy as can be?”
“You scared me!” Chanyeol defends himself.
Jongdae jumps down and puts a friendly arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders. For a fraction of a second, his tail flicks out and his black hair blazes crimson. “What do you wanna be when you get out of here? A judge? A legal advisor? A defense attorney, like me?” Chanyeol blinks at the premature question. School’s only been in for a few weeks. They walk together, or more like, Jongdae walks Chanyeol, toward the Law building. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide now. You’ve got a ton of time,” Jongdae says. “I hope you had fun on Friday.”
“You made me chug one whole jug of that evil juice thing-how do you think am I supposed to remember anything?”
Jongdae senpai cackles at the mention of ‘the evil juice thing’. “No I didn’t,” Jongdae defends himself. “Losing was your own problem, and drinking was your own choice. But judging from how much you hollered, you definitely had a very good time,” Jongdae ponders. Jongdae sighs and put his hands behind his head, like Naruto when walking nonchalantly. “Wanna hang out later tonight?”
Oh, hell yeah. Chanyeol definitely wants to go, especially if it means getting sloshed with Jongdae again.
“I have homework that’s due tomorrow,” Chanyeol reasons. He remembers Jongin asking him not to hang out with Jongdae, but somehow, he does not mind walking further and further away from the general direction of his classroom. Why is Jongdae such a curious and fun person to pass time with? Chanyeol shuts up and does not lecture Jongdae about how good kids are not expected to skip classes. Chanyeol turns his head to face Jongdae. “What are we supposed to do today?”
“You’ll see.” Jongdae runs so that Chanyeol will chase him, and only slows down after he gets to where he wants. “How’s Jongin doing?” Jongdae asks. He stops running, and they end up in a deserted park not too far away from campus.
“He’s doing fine,” Chanyeol answers. “Thank you for asking.”
“Why, of course,” Jongdae replies with a courteous smile. The both of them pant exhaustedly. “I like him. I bet you like him, too.” Jongdae sighs off the conversation, looks up the big tree in front of them, and decidedly climbs it. Once settled on a branch, he looks down at Chanyeol from the place he’s sitting on. He digs into his bag and rips the last page of a syllabus, before using that sheet of paper to wrap the contents of a small resealable package. Chanyeol has never seen those before, but it is too difficult to observe Jongdae’s agile fingers from afar. Jongdae flips himself upside down again, and what he holds between his fingers looks eerily like a distorted, poor-man version of a cigarette.
The possession or misusage of marijuana, or daema, is taboo within society and highly punishable under Korean law.
From down here, Jongdae’s hair looks like a lion’s mane. Being curious, Chanyeol follows Jongdae’s footsteps and climbs up the tree to hang upside down on a branch. Once Chanyeol settles, Jongdae continues. “Precious snowflakes. You know something certain about them?”
“what?”
“They melt.”
Chanyeol shivers as he remains silent, but Jongdae continues his sermon before lighting up and taking a hit. He exhales. “My dear, dear Chanyeol. Yesterday you glutton, today you shirk. Isn’t this world wonderful?”
Chanyeol somehow ends up on an equally sturdy branch of the same tree, hanging upside down with heightened sensitivity on a slower brain. The sparrows that fly by have beautiful, brown feathers, but why is the sky so damn bright? Being upside down feels amazing-so amazing it makes him want to laugh. The sun feels so warm on his skin, although the autumn air too cold for pleasantry. He feels like he’s falling asleep.
But he falls down to the ground. Chanyeol rubs his hurt limbs-at least he fell safely. He rubs his eyes and looks up. Jongdae is gone. There is a son with his mother, and a young couple, who watch the scene he has just made, but he is too confused to feel the shame.
Chanyeol turns his head to the closest walking path. What Chanyeol sees is someone looking like Jongin coming towards him.
“Have you been in the park all afternoon? I’ve just discovered this place,” Jongin says, hugging a painfully thick textbook as he approaches Chanyeol. Jongin easily sits next to him on the dirty ground and looks around. “This place is very pretty. I think it makes a nice place to study.”
Chanyeol does not answer. Jongin is a blurry haze with doe-like, shiny eyes. He doesn't even know what he is thinking. “I wanna go home," Chanyeol slurs.
Jongin doesn’t complain about having just gotten to the park. “You looked like you just woke up. Did you take a nap?” He leads their way back to their shared dorm room, opens and closes the door for Chanyeol. They set themselves at their dining area.
Chanyeol vainly tries to shake his head clear. Jongin enters the kitchen to heat up whatever leftover they have in the fridge. “I hung with Jongdae. We literally hung on a tree.”
Jongin sighs as he punches seconds into the microwave. “Is that why you looked like you just fell from a tree, Chanyeol? I had to stop myself from telling you how silly you looked.”
“He was just there on the other branch of the tree you saw me sitting under, and by the time you found me, he was gone.”
The image forms in Jongin’s mind, and he bursts into his signature short fit of laughter, until Jongin clears his throat and comments (still biting away laughter), “That’s impossible,” putting bandage over hemorrhage, sitting by Chanyeol waiting for the food to spin into warmth. The microwave beeps and Jongin rises. “You don’t understand how much he scares me, Chanyeol. I told you not to be around him,” Jongin says.
“You might be right. He scares me too sometimes,” Chanyeol admits. “It’s more than mischief that I see in his eyes.”
Chanyeol’s phone dings with an IM message. It’s Jongdae.
Hey. Sorry I left. Got business to attend. Isn’t everything I do so much fun? Let’s hang out again this weekend.
Chanyeol immediately kills his screen and looks up to Jongin giving him his shitty microwaved food.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you what happened on the first day of school, when we met him.” Jongin starts. Chanyeol looks up from his food, and Jongin continues. “This is probably the weirdest thing you’re ever going to hear from me,” Jongin inhales, then exhales, “but that day, I saw a devil’s tail come out of Jongdae sunbae’s butt.”
Chanyeol legit roars in laughter this time. He chokes and hits his chest, in hopes of popping out that stray noodle, but the laughter does not cease.
“I’m serious, Chanyeol. You have to believe me,” Jongin tries to defend himself in vain. Chanyeol still laughs. “Come on!” When Jongin is sure Chanyeol has calmed down, he says, “I mean it. I’m really scared of him. That’s why his hand sizzles like spam when he touches me, because he’s not human. Please listen to me. Please stop hanging out with him.”
“Okay, okay.” Chanyeol bites back his laughter and continues eating. “Does your hand, like, detect aliens via sizzles or something?”
“It’s a long story. You’ll learn about it sooner or later,” Jongin fills up an inadequate answer to Chanyeol’s inquiry. “Do you want to go to service this Sunday?” Jongin offers, in relation to Chanyeol having hung out too much with a fiend.
Chanyeol is this close to having his face sink into a bowl of shitty food. What a prudish way to kill a conversation.
“Is it somewhere around school?” Chanyeol clears his throat and asks nicely.
“Yeah.” Jongin answers, almost a murmur. “I’ve been looking around.”
"Sure, let's go. Good of you to have found one nearby. Maybe I should cleanse myself off of some of that bad influence." Chanyeol smiles, and resumes eating.
Jongin is looking at the mirror, buttoning the cuffs of his dark blue dress shirt. It’s too early and Chanyeol has a ton of homework to do. Deep down, Chanyeol is hoping that Jongdae will save him from Jongin this Sunday morning, but of course Jongdae is sly enough to lie: Chanyeol’s phone remains silent until Jongin drags him out of the dorm, forcing Chanyeol to still look happy being Jongin’s +1 to church.
When the two walk past a food stall, Jongdae turns around while eating the snack he’s just bought. Jongdae kindly asks where they are going, and to all their surprise, asks to join them.
Jongin and Chanyeol are left in wonder, but Jongin happily accepts him as his church groupie, even when Chanyeol stands wedged in the middle, unconsciously shielding Jongdae’s electro-conductive body from Jongin’s as they walk on to their destination. They remain in the same lineup when they sit at the velvet-lined bench.
When they are called to stand, Jongdae puts on a white pair of gloves that he takes out of his pocket.
For the Bible.
Chanyeol looks at Jongdae as Jongdae forces himself to look down to the bunch of gibberish squiggles, beads of sweat visibly forming on his temples. Chanyeol whispers a discreet, “Are you ok?”
Jongdae gives a hastened nod to shrug away Chanyeol’s worries. He tries to look normal as he trembles. From the side, Jongin is peeking, but resumes on the communal activity.
The priest is a middle-aged man with glasses sitting at the end of his short nose. He starts his sermon.
“Every day we’ve got to make choices about whether or not we’re going to obey. Sometimes, those choices are hard for us to make. We choose things that appeal to us in the spur of the moment. And then we realize later that it does not satisfy. The guilt will still remain.” The priest lectures. Jongin and Chanyeol listen solemnly, but Jongdae wrinkles his forehead in confusion as he fans himself. None of these make sense to him, and his body temperature is so high Chanyeol can feel the heat emanating from Jongdae’s body. Jongdae’s gradually looking worse than when he came in.
“…People who sin often get angry and put down others around them. They blame people, hoping to alleviate the guilt from their shoulders, until there is no one else to blame but the Devil, created and strayed especially to stray mankind off its course.”
Chanyeol catches a glimpse of Jongdae clenching his fists, and he would take his friend to the nurse or something if this gets worse but he needs to stay put and listen to the sermon.
All of a sudden, Jongdae curls up into a ball and shivers greatly, and Chanyeol and the old lady next to Jongdae stand, trying their best to maybe help the young man. Chanyeol hurriedly picks Jongdae up and he only leaves Jongin a glance before exiting through the side hallways.
Jongdae stays in confusion and pain, even after they’ve exited suffocating sermon and the secular, polluted air of Seoul calms his angry pores. Chanyeol offers to pour water on his body, out of confusion what to do, but Jongdae weakly denies the offer, saying that it will hurt him even more. Jongdae is still trying to wish away the last beads of sweat and blisters. Jongin comes in through the door.
“What happened? Are you alright?” Jongin asks to the both of them. Jongdae shrivels into a tighter curl, and seeing so, Jongin reserves to sitting on the floor by Chanyeol’s feet.
“I was thinking of getting ice cream, Sunbaenim, in hopes that it will make you feel better. That’s what Chanyeol and I liked doing after church when we were in high school. Would you care to join us?”
Jongdae is calming down, and Jongin, suspiciously to Chanyeol, stays as far away from Jongdae as possible. Chanyeol looks at Jongin, then Jongdae, who is collecting enough strength to sit himself up. “Jongin-ah, I’m sorry for making a scene earlier,” Jongdae starts, and coughs. “I need to borrow your Chanyeol for the rest of the day; I have something very important to discuss in private with him.” Jongdae cracks his neck and fingers. He looks so much better in so little time.
"But Chanyeol and I arranged this earlier than Sunbaenim did, so if you would respect our time.”
Jongdae drags Chanyeol by the wrist towards the door and Jongin, and Chanyeol is confused, but he lets Jongdae drag him away. Jongin and Jongdae stand close, and Chanyeol feels the heat coming from the two of them. “All you know how to do is say no to everything. You never risk anything or try to own your actions.” Jongdae spits to the ground by Jongin’s shoes and his dribble crackles like hot oil. “Stop making people believe that you’re always right.”
Jongdae drags Chanyeol out the door and to the closest minimarket he can find. Jongdae snatches two green bottles of alcohol from the open fridge, and slaps bills onto the counter before he dashes out, not caring about his change.
He makes the two of them sit under the tree they hung at the other day, and twists the soju bottle cap open. Jongdae chugs the drink like it’s water, and Chanyeol tries in vain to stop Jongdae’s arm from tipping the bottle higher. Jongdae elbows Chanyeol’s hand away before he gives a refreshed sigh. “Fucking prudes.”
Chanyeol is taken aback by the expletive, but he waits patiently. Jongdae drinks more.
“Why do all of you keep blaming me?” He complains after downing half of the bottle. Chanyeol watches as Jongdae turns red-eyed from liquor and nearly cries, ranting in between. He knows best to remain silent when this happens. “I don’t understand the thinking behind sins and guilt. How can you possibly gain punishment points, and feel bad, for doing things that make you happy? It’s not fair.”
“No one’s blaming you,” Chanyeol answers slowly. “What are we blaming you for? Who’s ‘we’?” Chanyeol asks. One bottle sits untouched next to Jongdae.
“You. Everyone.” Jongdae answers vaguely. “Blaming me for things that you deny liking to do.”
Chanyeol looks at Jongdae. Jongdae’s eyes are wet with anger, and Chanyeol can’t help but feel for him. “I still don’t understand-”
That instant, Jongdae reveals himself in front of Chanyeol, horns splitting out of his skull and tail flicking bright, eyes hungry and canines sharp. Chanyeol jumps in disbelief, and crawls away to save himself, until Jongdae reverts.
It was silent between the two of them when Jongdae looks away.
"I hope you understand now."
Chanyeol hypothesizes quietly. He tries to find the most diplomatic set of words to say, and takes a breath. “Is that why your hand sizzles when you touch Jongin?” he asks. “Why don’t you sizzle when you touch me?”
Jongdae looks at Chanyeol. “He’s a Good Deed. Like an angel, but not quite. Our opposing nature makes us feel extremely uncomfortable around each other.” Jongdae watches as Chanyeol stares at the grass, trying to grasp the load of information. “Now, will you please stop blaming my kin?”
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol offers.
Jongdae smiles to the ground and empties his first green bottle before tumbling it softly down the sturdy roots of the tree. Minimarket sojus are shit-sojus in general are shit-but for times like these, they always do the job. “Do you enjoy my company?” Jongdae asks.
Chanyeol laughs. He looks up to the clear, blue sky, and snatches the second bottle before taking as big of a swig as his unacquainted body can handle. He can’t believe he actually did that. “I actually do,” Chanyeol expresses, still grimacing. He expects it to hit anytime soon.
“Thanks,” Jongdae responds to the honest compliment. “Congratulations on imbibing stolen wine, you punk.”
They laugh and end up leaning on each other under the tree.
“I’m sorry for snatching you away from Jongin like that. Or for, you know, making you try all these things you thought you would never grow up to do. I just get lonely a lot of times,” Jongdae confesses, looking up to the rays filtering through the blushing leaves.
“It’s okay,” Chanyeol answers. “You’re always fun to be around with.”
Jongdae wakes up from his position and faces Chanyeol. Excitedly, he asks, “Do you want to come over and meet my mom? She’s been wanting to see you.”
Chanyeol stops leaning and mimics Jongdae’s excitement. “Oh my god, how has she been? I want to see her, too!”
So they stagger their way to the trains and try their best to hold an intelligible conversation along the journey, easily falling into laughter. The trains are fairly empty, what with it being a lazy Sunday afternoon for people to sleep in. Besides, people will want to go towards Hongdae instead of leaving it at this time of today.
They get off the train and walk to an apartment complex, and Jongdae feels up all the elevator buttons before punching 14. Jongdae and Chanyeol talk about that one time they broke their old apartment complex’s Christmas gnomes and made their parents pay for it. Jongdae reaches his door and presses his door code, letting Chanyeol in while calling, “I’m back!” as he toes off his shoes with difficulty.
“Hi, Sweety,” calls a sweet voice from the kitchen. Jongdae leads the two of them inside. The air is ripe with the smell of baking cookies.
“Mom, look who’s here,” he says. Behind the kitchen island that separates them, Jongdae’s mom turns around, and Chanyeol doesn’t remember her being this beautiful, this young. She has Jongdae’s eyes, and an inkling of his curled lips, her skin ghastly pale and her thick black hair tied in a high ponytail.
“Chanyeol!” she exclaims happily, black eyes glistening auburn. Chanyeol bows politely, but she comes forward to give Chanyeol a tight hug and dear oh dear, how sweet she smells. Chanyeol won’t mind being a devil if he gets to be this captivating. “You’re a handsome young man now! So tall and good-looking. Jongdae tells me that you’re the same major, and club. How exciting!” She ruffles Chanyeol’s hair happily. “We miss you. Now go play with Jongdae. I’ll bring you guys your cookies when they’re ready.”
Jongdae brings Chanyeol to his room and Chanyeol looks around at the big vintage posters lining his maroon walls. Chanyeol’s not even sure if any realties in Seoul would allow such drastic modifications. “How long have you lived here?” Chanyeol asks in wonder.
“This is the house I moved into in 6th grade.” Jongdae points to the bed. “Sit down. Be my guest. I have games and movies on my TV.”
So Chanyeol obliges. The TV bleeps into live to show a menu screen, and Jongdae tosses his other joystick to Chanyeol. “You pick.”
Chanyeol looks at the stack of disks and wonders what he wants to play. He wants to go macho with Tekken but ends up with Mario Kart anyway. He wishes he still has booze around. He puts the disk into the drive and lounges with Jongdae, until Jongdae throws a bomb in Chanyeol’s face and Chanyeol tackles him down in mock anger, and of course they fall out of the game and see the burning passion in each other’s eyes and think about the possibility of kissing while their racecars stop whirring to derail, lose, and die.
So they do, Chanyeol dipping in and kissing eagerly until Jongdae squirms, they pant, and Chanyeol grows wide-eyed at his own brazenness. This feels more than amazing. Chanyeol has been missing out on so much in life.
They both have embarrassingly huge boners for each other, but Chanyeol abruptly draws back and stops, while Jongdae opens his eyes at the loss, hoping Chanyeol’s shame will subside so that his lips will come back. The flush slowly drains away from Jongdae’s face. Chanyeol retracts to his seat.
“I’ll wash my face,” he mumbles, before leaving Jongdae’s room for the bathroom. In the hallway, Chanyeol can clearly hear Jongdae cursing out on him.
Chanyeol closes the bathroom door and looks at his own reflection in the mirror. He wets his face. He has gone so far from the little kid he knows, and he wonders if this is his true self, instead of that good person he keeps trying to be. There are so many good things about being around Jongdae that he can never make himself leave, although deep down, he knows he should flee the old friend he thought he knew. Chanyeol gets out of the bathroom and sees Jongdae’s mom waiting for him while hugging a big porcelain jar of cookies. “Is everything alright, Sweetie?” she asks. “I heard some yelling from the bedroom.”
“Ah, it’s nothing,” he alibis politely, scratching his head. “Jongdae was upset that he lost, and I went to the bathroom while waiting for the round to start again. It’s nothing serious.”
“Okay. Please don’t make me worried like that,” she requests. “Here’s some cookies for you and Jongdae. Would you like some tea, Sweetie? We still have some in the fridge.”
“I’m actually leaving, Mother, I have homework to do,” he smiles, and is relieved that he did not come here with a bag, because he can discreetly follow her to the living area without having to face seeing Jongdae ‘to take his bag because he wants to go home’.
“Are you sure you don’t want some tea, Sweetie? Cookies? You can always take more than nothing.”
The thought of eating food from the mother of a friend he’s not supposed to kiss repels him. His stomach stirs, and he hurries to tie his shoes. “Thank you very much for your offer, Mother, but I will have to leave.”
Jongdae’s mother opens a drawer and comes to shove Chanyeol’s hands with a snackbox filled with her cookies, and a store-bought bottle of tea. “Alright, Dear. You can go home now. We would love it for you to stay a little longer. Come back soon, Chanyeol. We love you.”
Chanyeol shivers. “Thank you, Mother. Please excuse me,” he bows, and leaves.
The ride back home was silent. He watches the tunnel lights in the darkness pass him by.
Chanyeol gets off the train and walks to his dorm, punches his floor number in the elevator. He walks out, guilt packing the containers from Jongdae’s mom with unnecessary emotional weight.
When Chanyeol is walking towards his dorm door, he hears a very loud shatter of breaking glass from the direction of his room. He hurriedly runs and unlocks the door to pressing silence. He toes his shoes off and walks in, only to find Jongin, ghastly gray with sickly dark lips, standing by the sink surrounded by a sea of white shards from their favorite porcelain bowl. His left hand is grasping a porcelain shard, painting the white piece red with blood. Chanyeol stands still by the shoe porch, not knowing what to do.
Jongin looks up to the man at the door, and Chanyeol watches as tears fall from Jongin’s swelling eyes when they meet his. Jongin has been crying. He throws the reddened shard Chanyeol’s way, and exclaims, “Leave!”
Jongin’s knees wobble and his hands try so hard to support his own weight on the kitchen counter. He throws another reddened shard in Chanyeol’s way, and he falls, as if the act makes him weaker. Jongin tries to hold himself up before he could lay flat to the ground, but Chanyeol hurriedly runs towards Jongin and holds the eerily lightweighted boy in his arms. “I said leave me alone,” he cried, weakly pushing another dirtied shard against Chanyeol’s chest.
Chanyeol picks Jongin up and carries him to sit by the bathroom door, before all the water on the bathroom floor can seep cold into Jongin’s pants. Chanyeol stands up to pick the shower head from its place, and runs warm water onto Jongin’s bleeding hand.
“Your blood washes clear,” Chanyeol expresses his wonder, seeing not a blotch of red on the bathroom floor.
Jongin remains silent, not wanting to talk for the time being. A deep, long gash reveals itself on Jongin’s palm.
Chanyeol takes a gauze from behind their bathroom mirror. He wraps Jongin’s hand, and more blood starts to seep, coloring the dry gauze red. Chanyeol sighs and holds Jongin’s hand tightly in hopes to slow the bleeding.
“Your wound is too big to heal on its own. Let’s go get it stitched, okay?” Chanyeol suggests softly. He rubs the back of Jongin’s hand. He tries to hoist Jongin up, but Jongin refuses.
“Is this what it takes for me to get your attention?” Jongin asks silently.
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says. Jongin’s whole body feels feverish to Chanyeol, although he is starting to regain color to his skin. Chanyeol pushes Jongin’s hair back and touches his forehead. “You feel hot. Are you sick, Jongin?”
“You are more of him now than you are of me. I will be feverish to your hands until you repent and come back to what you used to be,” Jongin explains, then he retracts his hand from Chanyeol’s. “I can take care of it. It’ll heal sooner than you think.”
They sit silently across each other by the doorframe, Jongin calming himself down and Chanyeol trying to understand the mess he’s made.
“This is why you never saw me angry,” Jongin starts in the silence. “This is what happens when I fall into the trap of my own anger. Do you know how jealous I am? You never looked at me like that all this time. You keep trying to convince yourself that you love me more than what you really do. But I hold it down, because I know that my body is not made for anger or envy. I turn weak and sickly, like what anger secretly does to the hearts of people. That’s why I take care of you. By loving you. By trying to protect you.” Jongin whispers his frustration, and he becomes skin and bones from the anger eating his body. The gauze is entirely red from internal pressure. “But I can’t. I can’t love you. I can’t save you. Because you don’t want me to.”
Their door buzzer goes off. Jongin weakly turns his head, and Chanyeol excuses himself to open the door, but it is Jongdae he sees on the other side. Chanyeol stays still while holding the doorknob.
“It’s so hot here,” are the first words to come out of Jongdae’s mouth. Chanyeol pushes the door, having decided that it is best not to let the beast in.
“Get out! You fiend!” Jongin screams from inside. “Get out!”
Jongdae peeks behind Chanyeol’s back, and hears weak whimpers, so he steps forward, despite Chanyeol closing the door on him.
“I plead you, don’t come in,” Chanyeol says, while trying to close the door.
Upset, Jongdae gives Chanyeol an extra push and raises his tone once he’s at Chanyeol’s shoe porch. “I only need to know if he’s okay, damn it.”
Jongdae barges into their dorm, not even minding to take off his shoes, marching forth despite Jongin’s pleading him to leave. Chanyeol runs and holds Jongdae back to stop Jongdae from touching Jongin, but Jongdae pushes him away until Chanyeol falls down, and comes in such close contact with Jongin. Jongdae is as rosy as Jongin is dying, and Chanyeol is deathly scared. Jongdae breathes in Jongin’s space, and smoothes Jongin’s sweaty hair as Jongin helplessly looks away. Jongdae asks with dripping sweetness as their bodies crackle against each other, “Are you hurt, Jongin-ah?”
Jongin tries his best to breathe, away from Jongdae, until Jongdae touches his wounded hand and the contact burns them both in extremely different magnitudes. Jongdae closes his eyes to hold the stinging pain, while Jongin screams out loud at the excruciating burn.
Chanyeol crawls back up and punches Jongdae on the cheek hard enough for Jongdae to fall back on the bathroom floor. Chanyeol tries his best to hold Jongin in the confined space and whisper to him comforting words. He carefully holds Jongin to pick Jongin up, but they both stumble and hit the tiled floors hard. Jongdae pulls harder on Chanyeol’s ankle, and Jongin watches in horror as Jongdae slowly circles his arm around Chanyeol’s body from behind. Chanyeol tries to elbow Jongdae away, and his eyes plead Jongin’s, but all of a sudden it’s as if he has lost all the fight within him. Chanyeol’s eyes first look empty, and changes into dead and menacing in one blink. Chanyeol slowly turns around and starts sucking on Jongdae’s neck, while Jongdae smugly watches as Jongin writhe and curl, too hurt to scream his pain, all but a mass of helpless limbs. Jongin does not even have the strength to wish Jongdae away, as he dies slowly from anger and despise, from boiling jealousy.
Both Jongin and Jongdae suddenly burst and disappear, one into soot and the other into jasmine dust, and Chanyeol falls unconscious on the bathroom floor.
Chanyeol does not understand why he is sleeping in the bathroom, but he wakes up nonetheless to an eerily silent apartment. Chanyeol stands up and rubs his eyes, facing the hallway. He feels as if he has something to do that he has forgotten. Everything feels awfully off today-no, it’s nighttime, from the dark windows outside.
Chanyeol checks his bedroom, and both beds are empty, where Jongin would otherwise be sleeping or reading, or be on his Playstation Vita. Chanyeol feels strangely empty. He hears Jongdae’s voice from the living room calling his name.
Chanyeol walks into the living area to see white porcelain shards lying around like rose petals, one red one by the door. Chanyeol looks up from the reddened porcelain shard, and he sees Jongdae, dressed up so well, smiling at him while holding the door. “Come on, Sweetie. We’re running out of time.”
As if charmed, Chanyeol’s footsteps obeys Jongdae’s voice, and Chanyeol walks across the living room towards his door, not minding if he steps on any shard. Tonight, he will not bleed.
Chanyeol walks out the door and leaves an empty home behind.
Final author's note: The EDM club is real, only it’s not called so, and they only make music, not get down around town. To yuraxchan: This has strayed so, so, so far from what you originally wanted, and you have the right to impale me on a steel stake, douse me in gasoline and burn me alive for this fecal piece of text. I changed ideas quite a few times, and know that this isn’t exactly in any of the prompts, but this is where my floozy brain has brought me. I’m really, really sorry. I hope you like it!!!!
Title: Sanctions of Imprudence
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Chen, Chanyeol/Kai
Rating: R for various muted mature situations
Warning(s): Drug abuse, biblical references, sharp plot turn, character death.
Length: 7.4k
Summary: Growing up with Jongin, Chanyeol never thought he would turn this naughty, but everything changes when he reunites with old-time bestie Jongdae.
Author's note: Hi recipient, I hope this fulfills your expectation~ I had a fun time with Jongdae in this fic, and I hope you will, too. Thank you to my cutest nocturnal noodle for being a helpful, albeit unwilling, reader, and to Mod senpai for bearing with this giant excuse of a participant. Please enjoy and give this story lots of love.
Chanyeol is terrified of the idea of college: party. Things worse than party. Free time with nothing to do. Group projects. Bratty seniors. Things worse than bratty seniors. Waking up late to meet failure.
So when Chanyeol steps out of high school and the safe warmth of his painfully devout parents, he tries his best to keep to his roots and stay in his track: Go to school, socialize as necessary, go home. Limit social booze, keep going to church, go home. His years of hard work has earned him a seat in the last letter of the s.k.y-high national dream: the deep-blue party capital of all the colleges in Seoul. Makes his knees wobble and eyes tear up upon realization.
So he walks in, together with his college sweetheart, high school bestie, and fellow nice boy, Jongin, to the wilderness of Yonsei Law-Jongin hoping to become a righteous judge, and Chanyeol a righteous attorney. Chanyeol has grown together with Jongin since Jongin moved in next door in sixth grade: all the bike rides by the river, all the ice cream picnics and occasional coffee (chai tea for Jongin), all the fluttery feelings they always refuse to admit. They kissed once out of joyous spontaneity, followed by awkward silence, when they opened their admission letters in front of each other.
“There’s our law school, Chanyeol. Looks like a prison if you think about it,” Jongin whispers as they walk in, looking at the shiny corridors and tall ceilings with wonder, until they separate for class. Chanyeol’s lecturer’s amazing, of course: Ivy League graduate, work experience at a Global Elite law firm, all that good stuff, all here to spend his elder years at home to teach these young and budding morons that will lead the future of Korea’s justice. Chanyeol’s first day in college easily sweeps him off his feet, until this square-faced guy in his puffy varsity jacket shoves a pamphlet in Chanyeol’s hand, happily yapping, “Hi, Green Leaf! Wanna join the EDM club?”
Chanyeol looks down, brings the pamphlet to his face and reads it thoroughly.
“We are a bunch of enthusiastic, expert connoisseurs of electronic dance music, and we listen to new findings every Friday while we get down around town! We also make our own awesome songs and have free lessons on Reason, Ableton and other programs for DAW enthusiasts!”
Chanyeol’s ears perk at the mention of those brand name softwares, and he looks at the senior before him. Jongin, who fetched Chanyeol when they got out of class, is peeking dispassionately while popping walnut cakes from a paper pouch. Jongin shoves one walnut cake into Chanyeol’s mouth, subtly tugs on Chanyeol’s elbow. Come on, let’s go. The thought of Skrillex’s half-bald head scares Jongin already.
“By any chance, are you Park Chanyeol?” the senior asks. Chanyeol squints. He doesn’t look like anyone he’s introduced himself to today. Chanyeol wonders if he’s already famous on his first day. “It’s me, Jongdae,” the senior says.
Chanyeol gasps. Jongin looks at Chanyeol, and now has to look at them both because they’re brohugging each other so tight. Jongin’s eyesight diverts when he sees a long, arrowed red tail, just like those of the devils from Tom and Jerry, come out of Jongdae’s ass, flicking happily. Jongin gapes in fear, and the devil tail disappears.
Meanwhile, Chanyeol and Jongdae release from their long-awaited brohug. “This is Jongin,” Chanyeol introduces, and Jongin keeps his trembling, stubby hands by his sides when he bows to Jongdae senpai, afraid that his wobbly handshake will meet empty air.
“Hi Jongin, nice to meet you,” Jongdae senpai greets happily, offering a handshake.
Jongin shivers. Should he take the handshake and die?
“Don’t leave me hangin’, Green Leaf.”
Jongin sucks in a deep breath and shakes Jongdae senpai’s hand. To Jongin’s surprise, Jongdae senpai yelps upon contact. His hand glows and sizzles. Jongin shivers in caution.
“Oh no. Are you okay?” Chanyeol and Jongin ask.
Jongdae senpai smiles reassuringly, holding his bright red right hand. “I’m fine. We just seem to catch more… electrical currents, don’t we, Jongin?” Jongin looks at him and sees that look in his eyes.
“Um, Jongdae,” Chanyeol asks, unconsciously breaking the awkward tension. “How can you be promoting a club on your first day of school?”
“I’m a sophomore! They made me skip one year in high school after I left, so here I am, pulling y’all babies to the dark side.”
Chanyeol nods in understanding, while Jongin vigorously tugs Chanyeol’s elbow hoping to get out of there immediately.
“Alright! I think we’ll be leaving for lunch. We’re hungry,” Chanyeol closes up. Jongdae senpai made sure that they exchanged phone numbers and KKT IDs before letting Chanyeol and Jongin leave. “Oh and,” Chanyeol adds, for good measure, “do I call you sunbae now?”
“Nah. Just when we’re around people.” Jongdae shrugs. “Or when we’re not around people,” he adds suggestively.
Chanyeol laughs at the raunchy joke, but Jongin is close to splitting Chanyeol’s arm into two by now. They need to leave right this minute. “Alright, alright,” Chanyeol humors his companion and bids goodbye to Jongdae, “See you!”
They walk away so quickly through the school’s intricate bush arrangements, mostly motored by Jongin’s fear. “He scares me. He’s so different in real life than what you say about him,” Jongin explains as soon as they hear Jongdae resume shouting for more freshman souls to reap. Chanyeol doesn’t understand. Chanyeol’s been telling only nice things about his old friend Jongdae to Jongin. Jongin only shivers. “But his hand sizzles, Chanyeol. No human hand sizzles like that.”
“But he goes to the EDM Club! What kind of college even has an EDM club? Isn’t this exciting? I’m so hyped up for our first meeting.”
Come Friday, Chanyeol leaves class for his dorm and dresses up carefully: casual enough to look cool, nice enough to make a first impression. Jongin asks where he’s headed, and Chanyeol excitedly answers, “EDM Club! We’re gonna have so much fun!”Jongin is sitting on his bed, reading yet another translated novel.
“They make you drink a ton of alcohol for all club initiations. We promised ourselves not to drink in any circumstances, remember?”
“I don’t think I can avoid it, but I’ll be careful.”
“That’s breaking a promise already,” Jongin tries to complain.
“I won’t break it any further.”
Chanyeol does not forget to kiss the top of Jongin’s head goodbye and ruffle Jongin’s cute hair before he leaves.
Upon entering school grounds and arriving at the room appointed for EDM meetings, Chanyeol learns that Jongdae (without surprise) has a swarm of extremely swanky friends. The room is a small, dedicated room at the Student Center, with two specialized PCs armed with professional speakers, just like the ones Chanyeol has seen on YouTube. The club has three active seniors, a few active juniors, eleven sophomores, and twenty new recruits, mostly lured in by Jongdae’s lie of “WE GO CLUBBIN ALL THE TIME”. Only a mere handful of them came in for the craft.
The seniors have to find a clever way to treat so many mouths without killing their own flat pockets, so the freshmen were taken to their ‘real headquarters’ for a night of spiked punches, spicy chicken bites, and clap-based drinking games. The real headquarters, an even more impressive space, is just a short walk outside the campus: it's one of the juniors’ unused compartments, just an empty room with one coffee table, with a population density of one synthesizer and one comforter per square meter.
When given the white styrofoam cup by his old friend Jongdae senpai, of course Chanyeol hesitates, because this seemingly innocent fruit punch will definitely bite like a serpent and make him see weird things, say bad things. He only holds the cup with two hands, stares at the floor.
"Take it and get it over with. Everyone's watching you," Jongdae senpai advises. Chanyeol hesitates. This time, no one sees the crimson glint in Jongdae's eyes, the sharp curl in Jongdae's fingernails.
Chanyeol looks around the room and looks at his new comrades' enthused eyes. He closes his eyes and sips the punch.
"This isn't as weird as I thought," he comments to himself, and finishes the glass. The whole room cheers. He's not even legal yet, thanks to his mom for bearing him in virtually December. From the corner of his eye, Chanyeol watches as Jongdae senpai cackles like a hyena.
Just some three hours later, Chanyeol is hammered after losing bout after bout of the Rabbit Game, downing what possibly is his fifth, eighth, punch. The seniors, worried, start to allow the faint-hearted to either go home or pass out on their floors.
Jongdae senpai pulls a heavy and whining Chanyeol up to walk him to the dorms. In Jongdae's arms, drunken Chanyeol blabbers about a lot of things. "I should have used more fighting agility when I was playing rabbit, Jongdae ya. You know, the pow, pow! I am top notch full of concentration.”
Chanyeol burps, and Jongdae snickers. Chanyeol hums as he thinks. “Do you know how smitten I am with my roommate? You remember? The guy that was with me when you were promoting EDM Club. Yeah. He was the boy who moved into your old apartment. We hung out all the time in high school. Have ice cream after church. Don't you see how precious he is? Cinnamon roll too good for the world. So warm, so pure."
Jongdae repositions Chanyeol and lets his tail flick out and help his tired arms. They manage to get to Chanyeol’s dorm. Jongdae bites back.
“I think you should remember how fucking smitten you were with me when I taught you how to make sandpoop in the sandbox every day.”
“Hehehe. Sandpoop.” Chanyeol giggles heavily. “Jongdae, you funny.”
Jongdae knocks the door only to be greeted by Chanyeol's very scared, precious Jongin--who definitely saw his tail slip-up on the first day of school. Jongdae has to squint-this college boy is literally goddamn bright-but he greets the terrified boy happily as he hands Chanyeol to him. “Hi Jongin-kun! Our Chanyeol kinda drank too much tonight, but at least he didn't barf. He definitely had a lot of fun. You should have joined us!”
"He drank?" Jongin asks in mild shock while receiving Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s tall body almost eclipses Jongin’s glow in Jongdae’s eyes.
"Aw, is he not supposed to? I’m sorry about that. Don't worry, everything will be just fine." Jongdae senpai reassures, and patted Jongin’s shoulder, careful not to touch his skin again. "It’s college: it’s your time in life to learn how to be naughty! Just make sure he’s in good shape to be in school on Monday, okay? See ya!"
Jongin bows and when he lifts his head, Jongdae senpai is gone.
Jongin closes the door, lays the heavy Chanyeol on the bed beside his, and blankets him. Jongin sits on the floor by Chanyeol’s bed and Chanyeol gurgles a, “Jongin, is that you?” and Jongin pays attention to whatever Chanyeol is about to slur away.
“Yes, Chanyeol?”
“Thank you for always taking care of me. I hope I’ll be able to show you how much I care about you back.” Chanyeol yawns, the strange fruity stench crawling warmly to Jongin’s virgin nose. “I’m sleepy. But you’re very lovely. And very cute. And very nice.” Chanyeol yawns again. “Before I go to bed, uh… I love you.”
Jongin doesn’t say anything, but he watches as Chanyeol falls asleep, and ends up sleeping on the floor with his head on Chanyeol’s bed. He duly wakes up to make noodles, and revives a headache-struck Chanyeol the next morning with the smell of extra-spicy ramen with an egg on top. Chanyeol groans in pain and confusion.
“Good morning,” Jongin says, clacking the piping hot bowl on the nightstand separating their narrow beds. He leaves the bedroom and comes back with a big glass of water.
“What is that?” Chanyeol asks.
“Breakfast.” Jongin sits on his own bed and watches Chanyeol sit himself up, hiding his face in his big palms to groan a remorseful, “Gosh, what have I done,” but Jongin goes to Chanyeol’s bed and gives Chanyeol his bowl of noodles.
“Eat up. Before it gets cold,” Jongin says. Chanyeol receives the bowl and slurps up, and Jongin fiddles with his own fingers. He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I know you probably didn’t mean it when you said you love me,” he starts. Chanyeol looks up to Jongin. “But I love you.”
Chanyeol smiles to himself and resumes eating. “Thank you. I love you.”
Jongin takes Chanyeol’s dishes for him as soon as he finishes eating. Chanyeol cannot remember anything past leaving for EDM Club, does not even remember when or how he fell asleep, but Jongin comes back from the kitchen and climbs in his bed, asks him if he feels better now as he caresses his hair. Chanyeol sits himself up and, to Jongin’s surprise, leans on Jongin. Jongin is a smidge too short and narrow for Chanyeol to lean comfortably, but Chanyeol is too absent to sigh any ungrateful complaints.
“I want you to do something for me,” Jongin asks softly. Chanyeol turns his head slightly, waiting for Jongin to continue. “Please stop hanging out with Jongdae-sunbaenim.”
They walk to school as usual the following Monday, only with Jongin reprimanding Chanyeol about the difference between social drinking, forced drinking, and drinking his ass off, and Chanyeol nods obediently to whatever Jongin says. Deep down, Chanyeol likes his adventures with Jongdae more than he will like to admit.
Chanyeol and Jongin part ways to head to their respective buildings for the day, and Chanyeol calmly walks to the prison-shaped Law building, until Jongdae flips down grinning in his face like a new page on a calendar.
“What on earth!” Chanyeol exclaims to Upside-Down Jongdae on a tree.
“Hey there, hi there, ho there! Isn’t studying Law as happy as can be?”
“You scared me!” Chanyeol defends himself.
Jongdae jumps down and puts a friendly arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders. For a fraction of a second, his tail flicks out and his black hair blazes crimson. “What do you wanna be when you get out of here? A judge? A legal advisor? A defense attorney, like me?” Chanyeol blinks at the premature question. School’s only been in for a few weeks. They walk together, or more like, Jongdae walks Chanyeol, toward the Law building. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide now. You’ve got a ton of time,” Jongdae says. “I hope you had fun on Friday.”
“You made me chug one whole jug of that evil juice thing-how do you think am I supposed to remember anything?”
Jongdae senpai cackles at the mention of ‘the evil juice thing’. “No I didn’t,” Jongdae defends himself. “Losing was your own problem, and drinking was your own choice. But judging from how much you hollered, you definitely had a very good time,” Jongdae ponders. Jongdae sighs and put his hands behind his head, like Naruto when walking nonchalantly. “Wanna hang out later tonight?”
Oh, hell yeah. Chanyeol definitely wants to go, especially if it means getting sloshed with Jongdae again.
“I have homework that’s due tomorrow,” Chanyeol reasons. He remembers Jongin asking him not to hang out with Jongdae, but somehow, he does not mind walking further and further away from the general direction of his classroom. Why is Jongdae such a curious and fun person to pass time with? Chanyeol shuts up and does not lecture Jongdae about how good kids are not expected to skip classes. Chanyeol turns his head to face Jongdae. “What are we supposed to do today?”
“You’ll see.” Jongdae runs so that Chanyeol will chase him, and only slows down after he gets to where he wants. “How’s Jongin doing?” Jongdae asks. He stops running, and they end up in a deserted park not too far away from campus.
“He’s doing fine,” Chanyeol answers. “Thank you for asking.”
“Why, of course,” Jongdae replies with a courteous smile. The both of them pant exhaustedly. “I like him. I bet you like him, too.” Jongdae sighs off the conversation, looks up the big tree in front of them, and decidedly climbs it. Once settled on a branch, he looks down at Chanyeol from the place he’s sitting on. He digs into his bag and rips the last page of a syllabus, before using that sheet of paper to wrap the contents of a small resealable package. Chanyeol has never seen those before, but it is too difficult to observe Jongdae’s agile fingers from afar. Jongdae flips himself upside down again, and what he holds between his fingers looks eerily like a distorted, poor-man version of a cigarette.
The possession or misusage of marijuana, or daema, is taboo within society and highly punishable under Korean law.
From down here, Jongdae’s hair looks like a lion’s mane. Being curious, Chanyeol follows Jongdae’s footsteps and climbs up the tree to hang upside down on a branch. Once Chanyeol settles, Jongdae continues. “Precious snowflakes. You know something certain about them?”
“what?”
“They melt.”
Chanyeol shivers as he remains silent, but Jongdae continues his sermon before lighting up and taking a hit. He exhales. “My dear, dear Chanyeol. Yesterday you glutton, today you shirk. Isn’t this world wonderful?”
Chanyeol somehow ends up on an equally sturdy branch of the same tree, hanging upside down with heightened sensitivity on a slower brain. The sparrows that fly by have beautiful, brown feathers, but why is the sky so damn bright? Being upside down feels amazing-so amazing it makes him want to laugh. The sun feels so warm on his skin, although the autumn air too cold for pleasantry. He feels like he’s falling asleep.
But he falls down to the ground. Chanyeol rubs his hurt limbs-at least he fell safely. He rubs his eyes and looks up. Jongdae is gone. There is a son with his mother, and a young couple, who watch the scene he has just made, but he is too confused to feel the shame.
Chanyeol turns his head to the closest walking path. What Chanyeol sees is someone looking like Jongin coming towards him.
“Have you been in the park all afternoon? I’ve just discovered this place,” Jongin says, hugging a painfully thick textbook as he approaches Chanyeol. Jongin easily sits next to him on the dirty ground and looks around. “This place is very pretty. I think it makes a nice place to study.”
Chanyeol does not answer. Jongin is a blurry haze with doe-like, shiny eyes. He doesn't even know what he is thinking. “I wanna go home," Chanyeol slurs.
Jongin doesn’t complain about having just gotten to the park. “You looked like you just woke up. Did you take a nap?” He leads their way back to their shared dorm room, opens and closes the door for Chanyeol. They set themselves at their dining area.
Chanyeol vainly tries to shake his head clear. Jongin enters the kitchen to heat up whatever leftover they have in the fridge. “I hung with Jongdae. We literally hung on a tree.”
Jongin sighs as he punches seconds into the microwave. “Is that why you looked like you just fell from a tree, Chanyeol? I had to stop myself from telling you how silly you looked.”
“He was just there on the other branch of the tree you saw me sitting under, and by the time you found me, he was gone.”
The image forms in Jongin’s mind, and he bursts into his signature short fit of laughter, until Jongin clears his throat and comments (still biting away laughter), “That’s impossible,” putting bandage over hemorrhage, sitting by Chanyeol waiting for the food to spin into warmth. The microwave beeps and Jongin rises. “You don’t understand how much he scares me, Chanyeol. I told you not to be around him,” Jongin says.
“You might be right. He scares me too sometimes,” Chanyeol admits. “It’s more than mischief that I see in his eyes.”
Chanyeol’s phone dings with an IM message. It’s Jongdae.
Hey. Sorry I left. Got business to attend. Isn’t everything I do so much fun? Let’s hang out again this weekend.
Chanyeol immediately kills his screen and looks up to Jongin giving him his shitty microwaved food.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you what happened on the first day of school, when we met him.” Jongin starts. Chanyeol looks up from his food, and Jongin continues. “This is probably the weirdest thing you’re ever going to hear from me,” Jongin inhales, then exhales, “but that day, I saw a devil’s tail come out of Jongdae sunbae’s butt.”
Chanyeol legit roars in laughter this time. He chokes and hits his chest, in hopes of popping out that stray noodle, but the laughter does not cease.
“I’m serious, Chanyeol. You have to believe me,” Jongin tries to defend himself in vain. Chanyeol still laughs. “Come on!” When Jongin is sure Chanyeol has calmed down, he says, “I mean it. I’m really scared of him. That’s why his hand sizzles like spam when he touches me, because he’s not human. Please listen to me. Please stop hanging out with him.”
“Okay, okay.” Chanyeol bites back his laughter and continues eating. “Does your hand, like, detect aliens via sizzles or something?”
“It’s a long story. You’ll learn about it sooner or later,” Jongin fills up an inadequate answer to Chanyeol’s inquiry. “Do you want to go to service this Sunday?” Jongin offers, in relation to Chanyeol having hung out too much with a fiend.
Chanyeol is this close to having his face sink into a bowl of shitty food. What a prudish way to kill a conversation.
“Is it somewhere around school?” Chanyeol clears his throat and asks nicely.
“Yeah.” Jongin answers, almost a murmur. “I’ve been looking around.”
"Sure, let's go. Good of you to have found one nearby. Maybe I should cleanse myself off of some of that bad influence." Chanyeol smiles, and resumes eating.
Jongin is looking at the mirror, buttoning the cuffs of his dark blue dress shirt. It’s too early and Chanyeol has a ton of homework to do. Deep down, Chanyeol is hoping that Jongdae will save him from Jongin this Sunday morning, but of course Jongdae is sly enough to lie: Chanyeol’s phone remains silent until Jongin drags him out of the dorm, forcing Chanyeol to still look happy being Jongin’s +1 to church.
When the two walk past a food stall, Jongdae turns around while eating the snack he’s just bought. Jongdae kindly asks where they are going, and to all their surprise, asks to join them.
Jongin and Chanyeol are left in wonder, but Jongin happily accepts him as his church groupie, even when Chanyeol stands wedged in the middle, unconsciously shielding Jongdae’s electro-conductive body from Jongin’s as they walk on to their destination. They remain in the same lineup when they sit at the velvet-lined bench.
When they are called to stand, Jongdae puts on a white pair of gloves that he takes out of his pocket.
For the Bible.
Chanyeol looks at Jongdae as Jongdae forces himself to look down to the bunch of gibberish squiggles, beads of sweat visibly forming on his temples. Chanyeol whispers a discreet, “Are you ok?”
Jongdae gives a hastened nod to shrug away Chanyeol’s worries. He tries to look normal as he trembles. From the side, Jongin is peeking, but resumes on the communal activity.
The priest is a middle-aged man with glasses sitting at the end of his short nose. He starts his sermon.
“Every day we’ve got to make choices about whether or not we’re going to obey. Sometimes, those choices are hard for us to make. We choose things that appeal to us in the spur of the moment. And then we realize later that it does not satisfy. The guilt will still remain.” The priest lectures. Jongin and Chanyeol listen solemnly, but Jongdae wrinkles his forehead in confusion as he fans himself. None of these make sense to him, and his body temperature is so high Chanyeol can feel the heat emanating from Jongdae’s body. Jongdae’s gradually looking worse than when he came in.
“…People who sin often get angry and put down others around them. They blame people, hoping to alleviate the guilt from their shoulders, until there is no one else to blame but the Devil, created and strayed especially to stray mankind off its course.”
Chanyeol catches a glimpse of Jongdae clenching his fists, and he would take his friend to the nurse or something if this gets worse but he needs to stay put and listen to the sermon.
All of a sudden, Jongdae curls up into a ball and shivers greatly, and Chanyeol and the old lady next to Jongdae stand, trying their best to maybe help the young man. Chanyeol hurriedly picks Jongdae up and he only leaves Jongin a glance before exiting through the side hallways.
Jongdae stays in confusion and pain, even after they’ve exited suffocating sermon and the secular, polluted air of Seoul calms his angry pores. Chanyeol offers to pour water on his body, out of confusion what to do, but Jongdae weakly denies the offer, saying that it will hurt him even more. Jongdae is still trying to wish away the last beads of sweat and blisters. Jongin comes in through the door.
“What happened? Are you alright?” Jongin asks to the both of them. Jongdae shrivels into a tighter curl, and seeing so, Jongin reserves to sitting on the floor by Chanyeol’s feet.
“I was thinking of getting ice cream, Sunbaenim, in hopes that it will make you feel better. That’s what Chanyeol and I liked doing after church when we were in high school. Would you care to join us?”
Jongdae is calming down, and Jongin, suspiciously to Chanyeol, stays as far away from Jongdae as possible. Chanyeol looks at Jongin, then Jongdae, who is collecting enough strength to sit himself up. “Jongin-ah, I’m sorry for making a scene earlier,” Jongdae starts, and coughs. “I need to borrow your Chanyeol for the rest of the day; I have something very important to discuss in private with him.” Jongdae cracks his neck and fingers. He looks so much better in so little time.
"But Chanyeol and I arranged this earlier than Sunbaenim did, so if you would respect our time.”
Jongdae drags Chanyeol by the wrist towards the door and Jongin, and Chanyeol is confused, but he lets Jongdae drag him away. Jongin and Jongdae stand close, and Chanyeol feels the heat coming from the two of them. “All you know how to do is say no to everything. You never risk anything or try to own your actions.” Jongdae spits to the ground by Jongin’s shoes and his dribble crackles like hot oil. “Stop making people believe that you’re always right.”
Jongdae drags Chanyeol out the door and to the closest minimarket he can find. Jongdae snatches two green bottles of alcohol from the open fridge, and slaps bills onto the counter before he dashes out, not caring about his change.
He makes the two of them sit under the tree they hung at the other day, and twists the soju bottle cap open. Jongdae chugs the drink like it’s water, and Chanyeol tries in vain to stop Jongdae’s arm from tipping the bottle higher. Jongdae elbows Chanyeol’s hand away before he gives a refreshed sigh. “Fucking prudes.”
Chanyeol is taken aback by the expletive, but he waits patiently. Jongdae drinks more.
“Why do all of you keep blaming me?” He complains after downing half of the bottle. Chanyeol watches as Jongdae turns red-eyed from liquor and nearly cries, ranting in between. He knows best to remain silent when this happens. “I don’t understand the thinking behind sins and guilt. How can you possibly gain punishment points, and feel bad, for doing things that make you happy? It’s not fair.”
“No one’s blaming you,” Chanyeol answers slowly. “What are we blaming you for? Who’s ‘we’?” Chanyeol asks. One bottle sits untouched next to Jongdae.
“You. Everyone.” Jongdae answers vaguely. “Blaming me for things that you deny liking to do.”
Chanyeol looks at Jongdae. Jongdae’s eyes are wet with anger, and Chanyeol can’t help but feel for him. “I still don’t understand-”
That instant, Jongdae reveals himself in front of Chanyeol, horns splitting out of his skull and tail flicking bright, eyes hungry and canines sharp. Chanyeol jumps in disbelief, and crawls away to save himself, until Jongdae reverts.
It was silent between the two of them when Jongdae looks away.
"I hope you understand now."
Chanyeol hypothesizes quietly. He tries to find the most diplomatic set of words to say, and takes a breath. “Is that why your hand sizzles when you touch Jongin?” he asks. “Why don’t you sizzle when you touch me?”
Jongdae looks at Chanyeol. “He’s a Good Deed. Like an angel, but not quite. Our opposing nature makes us feel extremely uncomfortable around each other.” Jongdae watches as Chanyeol stares at the grass, trying to grasp the load of information. “Now, will you please stop blaming my kin?”
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol offers.
Jongdae smiles to the ground and empties his first green bottle before tumbling it softly down the sturdy roots of the tree. Minimarket sojus are shit-sojus in general are shit-but for times like these, they always do the job. “Do you enjoy my company?” Jongdae asks.
Chanyeol laughs. He looks up to the clear, blue sky, and snatches the second bottle before taking as big of a swig as his unacquainted body can handle. He can’t believe he actually did that. “I actually do,” Chanyeol expresses, still grimacing. He expects it to hit anytime soon.
“Thanks,” Jongdae responds to the honest compliment. “Congratulations on imbibing stolen wine, you punk.”
They laugh and end up leaning on each other under the tree.
“I’m sorry for snatching you away from Jongin like that. Or for, you know, making you try all these things you thought you would never grow up to do. I just get lonely a lot of times,” Jongdae confesses, looking up to the rays filtering through the blushing leaves.
“It’s okay,” Chanyeol answers. “You’re always fun to be around with.”
Jongdae wakes up from his position and faces Chanyeol. Excitedly, he asks, “Do you want to come over and meet my mom? She’s been wanting to see you.”
Chanyeol stops leaning and mimics Jongdae’s excitement. “Oh my god, how has she been? I want to see her, too!”
So they stagger their way to the trains and try their best to hold an intelligible conversation along the journey, easily falling into laughter. The trains are fairly empty, what with it being a lazy Sunday afternoon for people to sleep in. Besides, people will want to go towards Hongdae instead of leaving it at this time of today.
They get off the train and walk to an apartment complex, and Jongdae feels up all the elevator buttons before punching 14. Jongdae and Chanyeol talk about that one time they broke their old apartment complex’s Christmas gnomes and made their parents pay for it. Jongdae reaches his door and presses his door code, letting Chanyeol in while calling, “I’m back!” as he toes off his shoes with difficulty.
“Hi, Sweety,” calls a sweet voice from the kitchen. Jongdae leads the two of them inside. The air is ripe with the smell of baking cookies.
“Mom, look who’s here,” he says. Behind the kitchen island that separates them, Jongdae’s mom turns around, and Chanyeol doesn’t remember her being this beautiful, this young. She has Jongdae’s eyes, and an inkling of his curled lips, her skin ghastly pale and her thick black hair tied in a high ponytail.
“Chanyeol!” she exclaims happily, black eyes glistening auburn. Chanyeol bows politely, but she comes forward to give Chanyeol a tight hug and dear oh dear, how sweet she smells. Chanyeol won’t mind being a devil if he gets to be this captivating. “You’re a handsome young man now! So tall and good-looking. Jongdae tells me that you’re the same major, and club. How exciting!” She ruffles Chanyeol’s hair happily. “We miss you. Now go play with Jongdae. I’ll bring you guys your cookies when they’re ready.”
Jongdae brings Chanyeol to his room and Chanyeol looks around at the big vintage posters lining his maroon walls. Chanyeol’s not even sure if any realties in Seoul would allow such drastic modifications. “How long have you lived here?” Chanyeol asks in wonder.
“This is the house I moved into in 6th grade.” Jongdae points to the bed. “Sit down. Be my guest. I have games and movies on my TV.”
So Chanyeol obliges. The TV bleeps into live to show a menu screen, and Jongdae tosses his other joystick to Chanyeol. “You pick.”
Chanyeol looks at the stack of disks and wonders what he wants to play. He wants to go macho with Tekken but ends up with Mario Kart anyway. He wishes he still has booze around. He puts the disk into the drive and lounges with Jongdae, until Jongdae throws a bomb in Chanyeol’s face and Chanyeol tackles him down in mock anger, and of course they fall out of the game and see the burning passion in each other’s eyes and think about the possibility of kissing while their racecars stop whirring to derail, lose, and die.
So they do, Chanyeol dipping in and kissing eagerly until Jongdae squirms, they pant, and Chanyeol grows wide-eyed at his own brazenness. This feels more than amazing. Chanyeol has been missing out on so much in life.
They both have embarrassingly huge boners for each other, but Chanyeol abruptly draws back and stops, while Jongdae opens his eyes at the loss, hoping Chanyeol’s shame will subside so that his lips will come back. The flush slowly drains away from Jongdae’s face. Chanyeol retracts to his seat.
“I’ll wash my face,” he mumbles, before leaving Jongdae’s room for the bathroom. In the hallway, Chanyeol can clearly hear Jongdae cursing out on him.
Chanyeol closes the bathroom door and looks at his own reflection in the mirror. He wets his face. He has gone so far from the little kid he knows, and he wonders if this is his true self, instead of that good person he keeps trying to be. There are so many good things about being around Jongdae that he can never make himself leave, although deep down, he knows he should flee the old friend he thought he knew. Chanyeol gets out of the bathroom and sees Jongdae’s mom waiting for him while hugging a big porcelain jar of cookies. “Is everything alright, Sweetie?” she asks. “I heard some yelling from the bedroom.”
“Ah, it’s nothing,” he alibis politely, scratching his head. “Jongdae was upset that he lost, and I went to the bathroom while waiting for the round to start again. It’s nothing serious.”
“Okay. Please don’t make me worried like that,” she requests. “Here’s some cookies for you and Jongdae. Would you like some tea, Sweetie? We still have some in the fridge.”
“I’m actually leaving, Mother, I have homework to do,” he smiles, and is relieved that he did not come here with a bag, because he can discreetly follow her to the living area without having to face seeing Jongdae ‘to take his bag because he wants to go home’.
“Are you sure you don’t want some tea, Sweetie? Cookies? You can always take more than nothing.”
The thought of eating food from the mother of a friend he’s not supposed to kiss repels him. His stomach stirs, and he hurries to tie his shoes. “Thank you very much for your offer, Mother, but I will have to leave.”
Jongdae’s mother opens a drawer and comes to shove Chanyeol’s hands with a snackbox filled with her cookies, and a store-bought bottle of tea. “Alright, Dear. You can go home now. We would love it for you to stay a little longer. Come back soon, Chanyeol. We love you.”
Chanyeol shivers. “Thank you, Mother. Please excuse me,” he bows, and leaves.
The ride back home was silent. He watches the tunnel lights in the darkness pass him by.
Chanyeol gets off the train and walks to his dorm, punches his floor number in the elevator. He walks out, guilt packing the containers from Jongdae’s mom with unnecessary emotional weight.
When Chanyeol is walking towards his dorm door, he hears a very loud shatter of breaking glass from the direction of his room. He hurriedly runs and unlocks the door to pressing silence. He toes his shoes off and walks in, only to find Jongin, ghastly gray with sickly dark lips, standing by the sink surrounded by a sea of white shards from their favorite porcelain bowl. His left hand is grasping a porcelain shard, painting the white piece red with blood. Chanyeol stands still by the shoe porch, not knowing what to do.
Jongin looks up to the man at the door, and Chanyeol watches as tears fall from Jongin’s swelling eyes when they meet his. Jongin has been crying. He throws the reddened shard Chanyeol’s way, and exclaims, “Leave!”
Jongin’s knees wobble and his hands try so hard to support his own weight on the kitchen counter. He throws another reddened shard in Chanyeol’s way, and he falls, as if the act makes him weaker. Jongin tries to hold himself up before he could lay flat to the ground, but Chanyeol hurriedly runs towards Jongin and holds the eerily lightweighted boy in his arms. “I said leave me alone,” he cried, weakly pushing another dirtied shard against Chanyeol’s chest.
Chanyeol picks Jongin up and carries him to sit by the bathroom door, before all the water on the bathroom floor can seep cold into Jongin’s pants. Chanyeol stands up to pick the shower head from its place, and runs warm water onto Jongin’s bleeding hand.
“Your blood washes clear,” Chanyeol expresses his wonder, seeing not a blotch of red on the bathroom floor.
Jongin remains silent, not wanting to talk for the time being. A deep, long gash reveals itself on Jongin’s palm.
Chanyeol takes a gauze from behind their bathroom mirror. He wraps Jongin’s hand, and more blood starts to seep, coloring the dry gauze red. Chanyeol sighs and holds Jongin’s hand tightly in hopes to slow the bleeding.
“Your wound is too big to heal on its own. Let’s go get it stitched, okay?” Chanyeol suggests softly. He rubs the back of Jongin’s hand. He tries to hoist Jongin up, but Jongin refuses.
“Is this what it takes for me to get your attention?” Jongin asks silently.
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says. Jongin’s whole body feels feverish to Chanyeol, although he is starting to regain color to his skin. Chanyeol pushes Jongin’s hair back and touches his forehead. “You feel hot. Are you sick, Jongin?”
“You are more of him now than you are of me. I will be feverish to your hands until you repent and come back to what you used to be,” Jongin explains, then he retracts his hand from Chanyeol’s. “I can take care of it. It’ll heal sooner than you think.”
They sit silently across each other by the doorframe, Jongin calming himself down and Chanyeol trying to understand the mess he’s made.
“This is why you never saw me angry,” Jongin starts in the silence. “This is what happens when I fall into the trap of my own anger. Do you know how jealous I am? You never looked at me like that all this time. You keep trying to convince yourself that you love me more than what you really do. But I hold it down, because I know that my body is not made for anger or envy. I turn weak and sickly, like what anger secretly does to the hearts of people. That’s why I take care of you. By loving you. By trying to protect you.” Jongin whispers his frustration, and he becomes skin and bones from the anger eating his body. The gauze is entirely red from internal pressure. “But I can’t. I can’t love you. I can’t save you. Because you don’t want me to.”
Their door buzzer goes off. Jongin weakly turns his head, and Chanyeol excuses himself to open the door, but it is Jongdae he sees on the other side. Chanyeol stays still while holding the doorknob.
“It’s so hot here,” are the first words to come out of Jongdae’s mouth. Chanyeol pushes the door, having decided that it is best not to let the beast in.
“Get out! You fiend!” Jongin screams from inside. “Get out!”
Jongdae peeks behind Chanyeol’s back, and hears weak whimpers, so he steps forward, despite Chanyeol closing the door on him.
“I plead you, don’t come in,” Chanyeol says, while trying to close the door.
Upset, Jongdae gives Chanyeol an extra push and raises his tone once he’s at Chanyeol’s shoe porch. “I only need to know if he’s okay, damn it.”
Jongdae barges into their dorm, not even minding to take off his shoes, marching forth despite Jongin’s pleading him to leave. Chanyeol runs and holds Jongdae back to stop Jongdae from touching Jongin, but Jongdae pushes him away until Chanyeol falls down, and comes in such close contact with Jongin. Jongdae is as rosy as Jongin is dying, and Chanyeol is deathly scared. Jongdae breathes in Jongin’s space, and smoothes Jongin’s sweaty hair as Jongin helplessly looks away. Jongdae asks with dripping sweetness as their bodies crackle against each other, “Are you hurt, Jongin-ah?”
Jongin tries his best to breathe, away from Jongdae, until Jongdae touches his wounded hand and the contact burns them both in extremely different magnitudes. Jongdae closes his eyes to hold the stinging pain, while Jongin screams out loud at the excruciating burn.
Chanyeol crawls back up and punches Jongdae on the cheek hard enough for Jongdae to fall back on the bathroom floor. Chanyeol tries his best to hold Jongin in the confined space and whisper to him comforting words. He carefully holds Jongin to pick Jongin up, but they both stumble and hit the tiled floors hard. Jongdae pulls harder on Chanyeol’s ankle, and Jongin watches in horror as Jongdae slowly circles his arm around Chanyeol’s body from behind. Chanyeol tries to elbow Jongdae away, and his eyes plead Jongin’s, but all of a sudden it’s as if he has lost all the fight within him. Chanyeol’s eyes first look empty, and changes into dead and menacing in one blink. Chanyeol slowly turns around and starts sucking on Jongdae’s neck, while Jongdae smugly watches as Jongin writhe and curl, too hurt to scream his pain, all but a mass of helpless limbs. Jongin does not even have the strength to wish Jongdae away, as he dies slowly from anger and despise, from boiling jealousy.
Both Jongin and Jongdae suddenly burst and disappear, one into soot and the other into jasmine dust, and Chanyeol falls unconscious on the bathroom floor.
Chanyeol does not understand why he is sleeping in the bathroom, but he wakes up nonetheless to an eerily silent apartment. Chanyeol stands up and rubs his eyes, facing the hallway. He feels as if he has something to do that he has forgotten. Everything feels awfully off today-no, it’s nighttime, from the dark windows outside.
Chanyeol checks his bedroom, and both beds are empty, where Jongin would otherwise be sleeping or reading, or be on his Playstation Vita. Chanyeol feels strangely empty. He hears Jongdae’s voice from the living room calling his name.
Chanyeol walks into the living area to see white porcelain shards lying around like rose petals, one red one by the door. Chanyeol looks up from the reddened porcelain shard, and he sees Jongdae, dressed up so well, smiling at him while holding the door. “Come on, Sweetie. We’re running out of time.”
As if charmed, Chanyeol’s footsteps obeys Jongdae’s voice, and Chanyeol walks across the living room towards his door, not minding if he steps on any shard. Tonight, he will not bleed.
Chanyeol walks out the door and leaves an empty home behind.
Final author's note: The EDM club is real, only it’s not called so, and they only make music, not get down around town. To yuraxchan: This has strayed so, so, so far from what you originally wanted, and you have the right to impale me on a steel stake, douse me in gasoline and burn me alive for this fecal piece of text. I changed ideas quite a few times, and know that this isn’t exactly in any of the prompts, but this is where my floozy brain has brought me. I’m really, really sorry. I hope you like it!!!!