welcome to the island of misfit toys - for midnightindomie
Title: welcome to the island of misfit toys
For: midnightindomie
Pairing: Chen/Xiumin
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: inordinate amount of underage drinking
Word count: 2915
Summary: jongdae pees on minseok at the first house party welcoming all new students. from then on, kim minseok is his forever.
one, he’s standing on the upholstery, inebriated and trying to balance three shots of vodka as he pours them one by one into the open mouth of the person laying flat on his back on the floor.
he misses and the liquid stains the slightly off-white carpet like warm piss on fresh snow.
two, there’s a shoving match in the back - who can hit the hardest and make the other fall into the pool. it’s safe to say everyone’s wet. he presses his lips against something moist. it’s sweet and salty at the same time, and he grins against the bumpy texture before inserting it into his mouth and biting down.
chicken always tastes better with beer, he thinks, and nearly drowns as he takes a larger than necessary gulp from the bottle in his hand.
three, he’s mixing drinks and spills half of some foul smelling concoction that was already on the table. someone objects and he glares at them. he stops short his remark because one, he remembers he still doesn’t know how to swear in Chinese and two, how can eyes sparkle like that? that is so abnormal. and he swears something is wrong with his chest because it does some sort of spasm as the other person brushes past him.
he leaves the room before he can collapse from an air shortage.
four, the rest of the night is spent on the makeshift dance floor on the lower level floor, amongst the bodies claimed by alcohol, lampshade over his head and a mannequin around his arms. he doesn’t question where the mannequin came from - this isn’t korea, this is china, things are different.
he barely remembers the rest of the night - having floated towards the kitchen where a wild eyed maniac was pouring drinks for the few remaining survivors - and well, why the hell not. alcohol, he reasoned, would now be his best friend in this foreign land.
five, he stumbles outside of the house for some air. with some sense of drunken conviction, he walks confidently up to a bush nearby and tries to pull down his pants to piss. he’s concentrating on aiming right and not getting wet when the bush moves and he screams because he’s certain he’d made the bush angry when he notices those same bright almond-shaped eyes from before and his breath catches before he blanks out.
the last thing he hears is a slurred version of his name being called out.
“ya, jin zhong da!”
◊◊◊
there’s a scrape on his knee. he can feel it throbbing as his jeans stick to the dried blood, pulling at the scab forming whenever he moves his leg. but it’s okay because he’s lying down anyway and there’s no need for much movement when the ground feels like it’s swaying back and forth. without opening his eyes, he feels around and finds a soft object next to him. a soft, living, breathing - possibly human, object next to him. he breathes in a sharp breath before he exhales and slowly opens his eyes a crack. it’s a boy, and he has chestnut brown hair and puffy cheeks and his tongue is sticking out and he’s breathing in and out in the simplest way, as if the world would shatter should he command it to. he shuts his eyes quickly when he feels movement and stays still until he can feel the other’s breath on his cheek.
trying to restrain the muscles on his face, he tries his best to act as if he’d just naturally woken up in that moment. and then he’s looking up into sunlight - or rather, the most gorgeous chocolate eyes he’s ever seen, and everything gets stuck in that passageway between his nostrils and his lungs and - wow.
those eyes blink once and a smile cracks their confused countenance.
“hi.” he exhales the word carefully, as if anything more than that shy utterance would break the moment.
“wow, you’re gorgeous,” jongdae forgets how to filter his words and the first thing he thinks of comes out in a rush of jumbled words and a whole lot of regret. the other laughs, far more widely and far more beautiful than he imagined - his heart probably skipped a beat somewhere in those titillating sounds.
“my name is kim minseok, what’s yours?”
“um, my name?” he tries to remember but it’s like his brain is on fire - a chaotic mess wherein the charicatures resembling him are frantically searching through every nook and cranny of his skull before realizing they’ve permanently lost his name. he clears his throat and shakes his head and tries again.
“kim jongdae,” he says, and he feels a flush break out all over his cheeks and it’s crawling up his neck and he wants to bury his head into the sheets because wow his voice sounded so lame right now. minseok doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he tilts his head and seems to recall something.
“ah, you’re the one who, um, well, you..” he trails off and points at himself and it takes jongdae a moment to realize that neither of them have a shirt on and jongdae’s only in his boxers and he’s not sure if he wants to know or would rather not know what minseok is wearing underneath the sheets.
“did we..” he clears his throat too many times and coughs into his palm and he’s panicking because he did not remember that and did they use a condom, where did they get the lube, and how did either of them even know how to put what in where or skfgjsdklfgsjakf!!! his mother had always warned him about parties. they mix different alcoholic drinks together, and spike them and next thing you know, you’re in bed with a stranger and the girl you slept with is pregnant and boom - your high school life is over. but minseok’s not a girl and he doesn’t have .. girl parts so he can’t get pregnant and he doesn’t remember if the extensive sexual education class his mum gave him included a set of instructions on what to do if he ever got drunk enough to wake up next to a person with the same.. parts as him.
but the boy next to him doesn’t seem to be too preoccupied, seeing as he’s trying not to laugh too hard at jongdae’s probably horrified face.
“no, we didn’t, so stop looking like i’ve set your cat on fire or something,” minseok giggles throughout his whole sentence and jongdae’s unsure on how to respond to that.
“so..?”
minseok opens his mouth to reply to him when the door opens, slamming so hard against the wall, it bounces back onto the entering person. jongdae nearly jumps out of his skin and decides this is probably the best time to bury minseok and himself underneath the bedsheets because, “holy crap, no we are not here - please look somewhere else!” he finds himself squeaking out.
the person at the door and minseok start laughing because that is almost certainly not the response they were expecting and that only makes jongdae want to bury himself inside of the earth’s core and never come out because that’s where he belongs and not right next to the most gorgeous human being who is laughing at him.
it’s only after a good few seconds of coaxing (and tickling, which is so not fair) from minseok that jongdae comes out from under the sheets and finds himself in front of four impressive looking guys, one of which he recognizes as his moody roommate (named tao, apparently, who talks in a language that is most definitely not chinese as jongdae can only ever pick up mentions of how a panda apocalypse will surely happen in the near future but how remains to be explained as jongdae never listens past the first few sentences).
jongdae looks at his roommate, now questioning why they were there because, despite the panda apocalypse ordeal, he’s actually a nice guy. tao doesn’t look at him, though, and stares at the person next to him and it’s not until he starts speaking in clear chinese to minseok that jongdae realizes he and minseok had been speaking in korean together just a few moments ago. as if finally registering that thought, jongdae’s heart starts beating faster and he breathes out slowly through his nose because that means he’s the first korean person, other than his parents, that he’s met since he’s arrived in china and started his first year of high school. jongdae looks at minseok and watches as he speaks fluent chinese at the others and laughs animatedly as one of them says something funny and his heart throbs because he wonders how long the other has gone without speaking korean at this school and he feels just the bit guiltiest as he’d been moping excessively about having had to start school in a foreign land. that’s why at the first chance he’d gotten, he had defied his parents’ rules about partying and underage drinking and said yes to the first party a senior had invited him to. between all the liquor and the loud music, there had been no need for languages anymore. only body gestures and hand signals that either suggested you drink more or dance more. everything had faded away.
“earth to jongdae,” minseok sing-songs his name, and jongdae snaps out of his reverie.
“what,” he asks, and watches with absolute delight as that makes minseok’s eyes twinkle and the other is silent for a second, just observing jongdae’s face. he starts to speak, though, before jongdae can feel too self-conscious.
“the gang is here to give you something,” and when jongdae sends him a questioning look, minseok gestures at the other four standing in front of them, “you probably know zitao, he’s your roommate,” jongdae nods in greeting and gives tao a little wave in recognition as minseok continues, “then there’s kris, the tall supermodel one. he has a default bitch face, but don’t worry, he wouldn’t even hurt a fly,” (“i would too, i would hurt a fly if it dared to touch my precious face!” kris says over minseok but the other ignores him and prattles on), “and that’s yixing, he’s really cute and quiet, but he’s pretty talkative once you get to know him. finally, there’s luhan, the pretty guy there. he’s pretty much the coolest guy you’ll ever know. he likes football and video games and he can get you into any club in beijing because he has that face,” minseok ends, punctuating his last words by pointing directly at luhan’s button nose and jongdae nods as if he understands.
“and who are you?” jongdae asks without thinking, making the mistake of looking into minseok’s intense stare. the other holds his gaze before he breaks out into a toothy grin.
“me? i’m kim minseok, as i said earlier, and i’m the one you peed on last night and declared i was therefore yours. or something like that. you said it all romantic like, slurring and stumbling and yeah, i don’t know.. i kind of fell for that.” minseok shrugs, a bit of shame reflected in his eyes because he’s probably not sure if jongdae meant anything he said in his drunken state. jongdae, on the other hand, finds it hard to believe he’s talking about him. fourteen year old kim jongdae, peeing on someone, let alone finding the words - romantic words, apparently - to make someone like kim minseok, in all his amazing self fall in love with him? this was surely a prank, it had to be.
jongdae looks in between the other four chinese members in the room and minseok but none of them are smiling anymore and it looks as if they’re expecting an answer.
“who are you?” luhan finally breaks the awkward silence, speaking in stumbling korean and jongdae’s not sure if he’s expected to reply in the same language or in chinese. he ends up trying to reply in a mix.
“my name is kim jongdae, i’m fourteen,” here kris whistles low and yixing laughs really loudly and jongdae’s cheeks flare red, “i’m almost fifteen!” he exclaims and clears his throat before continuing, “and i’m new at this school, and i’m not sure about what happened last night, but whatever happened i, um, well, you’re gorgeous, i don’t think you really want me. i’m .. no one.” he ends in a quiet voice and looks down at his hands.
the one who makes him look back up in luhan, who claps his hands together and announces, “well, that’s that. you guys are cute together. can we put the banner up?” jongdae frowns but minseok nods and the other four start pulling out cups and chips with dip and cola (and is that a bottle of smirnoff?), and a banner with excessive glitter. he’s distracted from the mess they’re making on the other end of the room by minseok’s hand cupping his own.
“hey, you’re one of us now,” minseok gestures at the luhan, yixing, kris and tao before he continues, “we’re all misfits. we’ve never fit in school, and we probably never will. tao’s still in middle school, kris’s parents are always abroad, luhan is too pretty, yixing is too quiet, i’m too korean, etcera etcera,” minseok waves his hands around, “but you’re one of us now. you’re a misfit. so, fourteen year old kim jongdae, welcome to the island of misfits.” he scrunches up his nose and jongdae laughs a bit because he’s sure he’s heard that phrase in a film before.
“so does that mean i’m forgiven for peeing at you - because i swear that was a bush! you were a bush!” jongdae can’t help but laugh at how quickly minseok’s bushy eyebrows disappear under his fringe after his outburst.
“so you do remember!” minseok screams, bumping shoulders before getting up out of the bed and jongdae realizes, rather disappointedly actually, that the other is still wearing his jeans. it takes him a few more minutes of frustratedly trying to figure out what to do about his pantsless situation before recognizing that minseok is actually wearing jongdae’s own jeans. when jongdae protests this, though, all minseok does is nod and then rhythmically bounce his ass as he hums a song jongdae had heard on the radio back home.
“girl’s day, really?” jongdae deadpans.
“yes!” luhan screams excitedly before minseok speaks, waving an exacto knife in front of him, “if you’re going to be minseok’s boyfriend, you have to love girl’s day, okay!”
jongdae nods vigorously and swears to learn all the dances to all the songs by girl’s day and even help in learning new choreography with them because exacto knives are no fucking joke.
minseok snorts at jongdae and tosses him a pair of jeans that fit comfortably and thrill jongdae because he’s inexplicably excited they’re the same size clothes.
“come on,” minseok says, wrapping an arm around jongdae’s shoulder and pulling him into the makeshift party in the short space between the bed bunks on one side and a small plasma tv on the other. above them sits a banner that reads “welcome to the island of misfit toys, kim jongdae,” and even though it takes him several times to read it because the handwriting is atrocious and they spelled his name wrong, he’s completely and utterly elated to be around others who seem to expect nothing from him even when he says all the wrong things in chinese or forgets he’s speaking in korean or addresses them incorrectly. they shrug it off and try to teach him, instead of just ignoring him.
but, most of all, he’s ecstatic because someone is holding his hand and looking at him and only him and this was the last thing jongdae had been expecting but it feels nice and he wants this, this moment to never end.
◊◊◊
jongdae later finds that the bottle had been smirnoff once luhan announces in punctuating exclamations that, “the! party! shall continue!” and pulls it out from the bottom of the fridge. jongdae groans out loud and inwardly and minseok shoots him a sympathetic look, explaining silently that this was sort of their thing on fridays and saturdays. jongdae looks at him, bewildered, because when did they do homework?! minseok wants to explain but he’s pulled into shots and jongdae almost cries as his head gives an awful throb at just the smell of alcohol that he had just sworn off it earlier.
“i’m not drinking,” he announces, declining before anyone offered. and the four chinese members seem to snort simultaneously.
“of course you’re not drinking,” yixing says.
but luhan ends his sentence instead, “our goal this time is to make minseok pee on you. that way it’ll be even, and you’ll both be meant to be or something.”
jongdae chokes on his cola and minseok spits out half a chewed up chip on luhan who screams bloody murder and ensues some kind of ritualistic dance off using all the girl’s day songs they know. and while jongdae would rather be anywhere else but stumbling through the ‘female president’ choreography as kris’s partner in a pseudo-dancing with the stars moment in minseok’s dorm room, seeing minseok’s smiling face makes him push his stiff limbs into a rhythm because he’d rather be a misfit than fit in just right.
Author's note: i’m never sure of anything. thanks to c for helping me and for suffering a lifetime of me.
For: midnightindomie
Pairing: Chen/Xiumin
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: inordinate amount of underage drinking
Word count: 2915
Summary: jongdae pees on minseok at the first house party welcoming all new students. from then on, kim minseok is his forever.
one, he’s standing on the upholstery, inebriated and trying to balance three shots of vodka as he pours them one by one into the open mouth of the person laying flat on his back on the floor.
he misses and the liquid stains the slightly off-white carpet like warm piss on fresh snow.
two, there’s a shoving match in the back - who can hit the hardest and make the other fall into the pool. it’s safe to say everyone’s wet. he presses his lips against something moist. it’s sweet and salty at the same time, and he grins against the bumpy texture before inserting it into his mouth and biting down.
chicken always tastes better with beer, he thinks, and nearly drowns as he takes a larger than necessary gulp from the bottle in his hand.
three, he’s mixing drinks and spills half of some foul smelling concoction that was already on the table. someone objects and he glares at them. he stops short his remark because one, he remembers he still doesn’t know how to swear in Chinese and two, how can eyes sparkle like that? that is so abnormal. and he swears something is wrong with his chest because it does some sort of spasm as the other person brushes past him.
he leaves the room before he can collapse from an air shortage.
four, the rest of the night is spent on the makeshift dance floor on the lower level floor, amongst the bodies claimed by alcohol, lampshade over his head and a mannequin around his arms. he doesn’t question where the mannequin came from - this isn’t korea, this is china, things are different.
he barely remembers the rest of the night - having floated towards the kitchen where a wild eyed maniac was pouring drinks for the few remaining survivors - and well, why the hell not. alcohol, he reasoned, would now be his best friend in this foreign land.
five, he stumbles outside of the house for some air. with some sense of drunken conviction, he walks confidently up to a bush nearby and tries to pull down his pants to piss. he’s concentrating on aiming right and not getting wet when the bush moves and he screams because he’s certain he’d made the bush angry when he notices those same bright almond-shaped eyes from before and his breath catches before he blanks out.
the last thing he hears is a slurred version of his name being called out.
“ya, jin zhong da!”
◊◊◊
there’s a scrape on his knee. he can feel it throbbing as his jeans stick to the dried blood, pulling at the scab forming whenever he moves his leg. but it’s okay because he’s lying down anyway and there’s no need for much movement when the ground feels like it’s swaying back and forth. without opening his eyes, he feels around and finds a soft object next to him. a soft, living, breathing - possibly human, object next to him. he breathes in a sharp breath before he exhales and slowly opens his eyes a crack. it’s a boy, and he has chestnut brown hair and puffy cheeks and his tongue is sticking out and he’s breathing in and out in the simplest way, as if the world would shatter should he command it to. he shuts his eyes quickly when he feels movement and stays still until he can feel the other’s breath on his cheek.
trying to restrain the muscles on his face, he tries his best to act as if he’d just naturally woken up in that moment. and then he’s looking up into sunlight - or rather, the most gorgeous chocolate eyes he’s ever seen, and everything gets stuck in that passageway between his nostrils and his lungs and - wow.
those eyes blink once and a smile cracks their confused countenance.
“hi.” he exhales the word carefully, as if anything more than that shy utterance would break the moment.
“wow, you’re gorgeous,” jongdae forgets how to filter his words and the first thing he thinks of comes out in a rush of jumbled words and a whole lot of regret. the other laughs, far more widely and far more beautiful than he imagined - his heart probably skipped a beat somewhere in those titillating sounds.
“my name is kim minseok, what’s yours?”
“um, my name?” he tries to remember but it’s like his brain is on fire - a chaotic mess wherein the charicatures resembling him are frantically searching through every nook and cranny of his skull before realizing they’ve permanently lost his name. he clears his throat and shakes his head and tries again.
“kim jongdae,” he says, and he feels a flush break out all over his cheeks and it’s crawling up his neck and he wants to bury his head into the sheets because wow his voice sounded so lame right now. minseok doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he tilts his head and seems to recall something.
“ah, you’re the one who, um, well, you..” he trails off and points at himself and it takes jongdae a moment to realize that neither of them have a shirt on and jongdae’s only in his boxers and he’s not sure if he wants to know or would rather not know what minseok is wearing underneath the sheets.
“did we..” he clears his throat too many times and coughs into his palm and he’s panicking because he did not remember that and did they use a condom, where did they get the lube, and how did either of them even know how to put what in where or skfgjsdklfgsjakf!!! his mother had always warned him about parties. they mix different alcoholic drinks together, and spike them and next thing you know, you’re in bed with a stranger and the girl you slept with is pregnant and boom - your high school life is over. but minseok’s not a girl and he doesn’t have .. girl parts so he can’t get pregnant and he doesn’t remember if the extensive sexual education class his mum gave him included a set of instructions on what to do if he ever got drunk enough to wake up next to a person with the same.. parts as him.
but the boy next to him doesn’t seem to be too preoccupied, seeing as he’s trying not to laugh too hard at jongdae’s probably horrified face.
“no, we didn’t, so stop looking like i’ve set your cat on fire or something,” minseok giggles throughout his whole sentence and jongdae’s unsure on how to respond to that.
“so..?”
minseok opens his mouth to reply to him when the door opens, slamming so hard against the wall, it bounces back onto the entering person. jongdae nearly jumps out of his skin and decides this is probably the best time to bury minseok and himself underneath the bedsheets because, “holy crap, no we are not here - please look somewhere else!” he finds himself squeaking out.
the person at the door and minseok start laughing because that is almost certainly not the response they were expecting and that only makes jongdae want to bury himself inside of the earth’s core and never come out because that’s where he belongs and not right next to the most gorgeous human being who is laughing at him.
it’s only after a good few seconds of coaxing (and tickling, which is so not fair) from minseok that jongdae comes out from under the sheets and finds himself in front of four impressive looking guys, one of which he recognizes as his moody roommate (named tao, apparently, who talks in a language that is most definitely not chinese as jongdae can only ever pick up mentions of how a panda apocalypse will surely happen in the near future but how remains to be explained as jongdae never listens past the first few sentences).
jongdae looks at his roommate, now questioning why they were there because, despite the panda apocalypse ordeal, he’s actually a nice guy. tao doesn’t look at him, though, and stares at the person next to him and it’s not until he starts speaking in clear chinese to minseok that jongdae realizes he and minseok had been speaking in korean together just a few moments ago. as if finally registering that thought, jongdae’s heart starts beating faster and he breathes out slowly through his nose because that means he’s the first korean person, other than his parents, that he’s met since he’s arrived in china and started his first year of high school. jongdae looks at minseok and watches as he speaks fluent chinese at the others and laughs animatedly as one of them says something funny and his heart throbs because he wonders how long the other has gone without speaking korean at this school and he feels just the bit guiltiest as he’d been moping excessively about having had to start school in a foreign land. that’s why at the first chance he’d gotten, he had defied his parents’ rules about partying and underage drinking and said yes to the first party a senior had invited him to. between all the liquor and the loud music, there had been no need for languages anymore. only body gestures and hand signals that either suggested you drink more or dance more. everything had faded away.
“earth to jongdae,” minseok sing-songs his name, and jongdae snaps out of his reverie.
“what,” he asks, and watches with absolute delight as that makes minseok’s eyes twinkle and the other is silent for a second, just observing jongdae’s face. he starts to speak, though, before jongdae can feel too self-conscious.
“the gang is here to give you something,” and when jongdae sends him a questioning look, minseok gestures at the other four standing in front of them, “you probably know zitao, he’s your roommate,” jongdae nods in greeting and gives tao a little wave in recognition as minseok continues, “then there’s kris, the tall supermodel one. he has a default bitch face, but don’t worry, he wouldn’t even hurt a fly,” (“i would too, i would hurt a fly if it dared to touch my precious face!” kris says over minseok but the other ignores him and prattles on), “and that’s yixing, he’s really cute and quiet, but he’s pretty talkative once you get to know him. finally, there’s luhan, the pretty guy there. he’s pretty much the coolest guy you’ll ever know. he likes football and video games and he can get you into any club in beijing because he has that face,” minseok ends, punctuating his last words by pointing directly at luhan’s button nose and jongdae nods as if he understands.
“and who are you?” jongdae asks without thinking, making the mistake of looking into minseok’s intense stare. the other holds his gaze before he breaks out into a toothy grin.
“me? i’m kim minseok, as i said earlier, and i’m the one you peed on last night and declared i was therefore yours. or something like that. you said it all romantic like, slurring and stumbling and yeah, i don’t know.. i kind of fell for that.” minseok shrugs, a bit of shame reflected in his eyes because he’s probably not sure if jongdae meant anything he said in his drunken state. jongdae, on the other hand, finds it hard to believe he’s talking about him. fourteen year old kim jongdae, peeing on someone, let alone finding the words - romantic words, apparently - to make someone like kim minseok, in all his amazing self fall in love with him? this was surely a prank, it had to be.
jongdae looks in between the other four chinese members in the room and minseok but none of them are smiling anymore and it looks as if they’re expecting an answer.
“who are you?” luhan finally breaks the awkward silence, speaking in stumbling korean and jongdae’s not sure if he’s expected to reply in the same language or in chinese. he ends up trying to reply in a mix.
“my name is kim jongdae, i’m fourteen,” here kris whistles low and yixing laughs really loudly and jongdae’s cheeks flare red, “i’m almost fifteen!” he exclaims and clears his throat before continuing, “and i’m new at this school, and i’m not sure about what happened last night, but whatever happened i, um, well, you’re gorgeous, i don’t think you really want me. i’m .. no one.” he ends in a quiet voice and looks down at his hands.
the one who makes him look back up in luhan, who claps his hands together and announces, “well, that’s that. you guys are cute together. can we put the banner up?” jongdae frowns but minseok nods and the other four start pulling out cups and chips with dip and cola (and is that a bottle of smirnoff?), and a banner with excessive glitter. he’s distracted from the mess they’re making on the other end of the room by minseok’s hand cupping his own.
“hey, you’re one of us now,” minseok gestures at the luhan, yixing, kris and tao before he continues, “we’re all misfits. we’ve never fit in school, and we probably never will. tao’s still in middle school, kris’s parents are always abroad, luhan is too pretty, yixing is too quiet, i’m too korean, etcera etcera,” minseok waves his hands around, “but you’re one of us now. you’re a misfit. so, fourteen year old kim jongdae, welcome to the island of misfits.” he scrunches up his nose and jongdae laughs a bit because he’s sure he’s heard that phrase in a film before.
“so does that mean i’m forgiven for peeing at you - because i swear that was a bush! you were a bush!” jongdae can’t help but laugh at how quickly minseok’s bushy eyebrows disappear under his fringe after his outburst.
“so you do remember!” minseok screams, bumping shoulders before getting up out of the bed and jongdae realizes, rather disappointedly actually, that the other is still wearing his jeans. it takes him a few more minutes of frustratedly trying to figure out what to do about his pantsless situation before recognizing that minseok is actually wearing jongdae’s own jeans. when jongdae protests this, though, all minseok does is nod and then rhythmically bounce his ass as he hums a song jongdae had heard on the radio back home.
“girl’s day, really?” jongdae deadpans.
“yes!” luhan screams excitedly before minseok speaks, waving an exacto knife in front of him, “if you’re going to be minseok’s boyfriend, you have to love girl’s day, okay!”
jongdae nods vigorously and swears to learn all the dances to all the songs by girl’s day and even help in learning new choreography with them because exacto knives are no fucking joke.
minseok snorts at jongdae and tosses him a pair of jeans that fit comfortably and thrill jongdae because he’s inexplicably excited they’re the same size clothes.
“come on,” minseok says, wrapping an arm around jongdae’s shoulder and pulling him into the makeshift party in the short space between the bed bunks on one side and a small plasma tv on the other. above them sits a banner that reads “welcome to the island of misfit toys, kim jongdae,” and even though it takes him several times to read it because the handwriting is atrocious and they spelled his name wrong, he’s completely and utterly elated to be around others who seem to expect nothing from him even when he says all the wrong things in chinese or forgets he’s speaking in korean or addresses them incorrectly. they shrug it off and try to teach him, instead of just ignoring him.
but, most of all, he’s ecstatic because someone is holding his hand and looking at him and only him and this was the last thing jongdae had been expecting but it feels nice and he wants this, this moment to never end.
◊◊◊
jongdae later finds that the bottle had been smirnoff once luhan announces in punctuating exclamations that, “the! party! shall continue!” and pulls it out from the bottom of the fridge. jongdae groans out loud and inwardly and minseok shoots him a sympathetic look, explaining silently that this was sort of their thing on fridays and saturdays. jongdae looks at him, bewildered, because when did they do homework?! minseok wants to explain but he’s pulled into shots and jongdae almost cries as his head gives an awful throb at just the smell of alcohol that he had just sworn off it earlier.
“i’m not drinking,” he announces, declining before anyone offered. and the four chinese members seem to snort simultaneously.
“of course you’re not drinking,” yixing says.
but luhan ends his sentence instead, “our goal this time is to make minseok pee on you. that way it’ll be even, and you’ll both be meant to be or something.”
jongdae chokes on his cola and minseok spits out half a chewed up chip on luhan who screams bloody murder and ensues some kind of ritualistic dance off using all the girl’s day songs they know. and while jongdae would rather be anywhere else but stumbling through the ‘female president’ choreography as kris’s partner in a pseudo-dancing with the stars moment in minseok’s dorm room, seeing minseok’s smiling face makes him push his stiff limbs into a rhythm because he’d rather be a misfit than fit in just right.
Author's note: i’m never sure of anything. thanks to c for helping me and for suffering a lifetime of me.