#36 You Wanna Pizza This?
Author: rey_iii
Title: You Wanna Pizza This?
Rating: R
Length: 6653 words
Summary: Zhixiang and Yixing work at rival pizza places. They are both the guys sent out during rush hour to stand on the corner with signs and drum up business. Their rivalry is intense - but isn't hate another form of love?
Warnings: Implied sexual content
Notes: Rating is for implied sexual content. This sort of ended up as a one-sided rivalry but ¯\_(-_-)_/¯
DAY 1
"You'll be late!"
There's a banging at Yixing's bedroom door.
"Don't get fired before you start!"
Yixing rolls out of bed with a grumble.
"I'm coming in!" It's all the warning he has before Luhan slams the door open and turns on the lights, partially blinding Yixing.
"Why do you do this to me?" Yixing shields his eyes, voice groggy with sleep.
"Because," Luhan sing-songs, "Your shift starts in an hour, and we need the money. Desperately."
Yixing grabs his towel and trudges past his housemate into the bathroom, not bothering to argue with the truth.
His new job is at one of the local pizza places. If he's being totally honest, he has no idea what the job description actually is. Luhan had gotten him the job through a friend, no interview needed. Really, that should be a red flag.
Yixing hops out of the shower and towels off, semi-miserable at having to leave bed before noon.
"Forty-five minutes!" Luhan shouts from the hallway.
"It's three blocks away!" Yixing calls back, growing exasperated with the constant reminders.
He takes breakfast to go in order to be free of Luhan's micromanaging, opening the cereal bar once he's out the door.
The shop he's been unceremoniously employed at-the Paradise Slice Pizza Company-is notorious for average tasting pizzas, frequented by stoned teenagers and not many others. Yixing really hopes he's not going to have to throw dough in the air because the losses would significantly outweigh the gains.
There's another pizza place directly next door-Little Piggy's Pizzeria-which, so Yixing has heard, takes friendly competition a step too far. He supposes now that he's receiving money from their rivals, he should see them as the obnoxious antagonist.
He finishes his pathetic breakfast and shoves the wrapper into his pocket, glancing through the large front window before he steps inside; they've only just opened.
"Yixing?" he hears, quite literally the second he enters the shop.
He nods in confirmation, scanning the room for the owner of the voice.
"Oh good, you really are pretty."
The man who wanders out from behind the counter looks relieved.
"I… what?" Yixing quirks his head, still standing frozen in the open doorway.
"Come, come. I'll show you around. This way," the man gestures.
He leads Yixing through a door labelled 'Staff Only' before bothering to introduce himself.
"I'm Junmyeon. I'm the manger, nice to meet you."
Yixing bows his head politely, following Junmyeon down a short hallway and into what appears to be the staff room. There's a row of coat hooks and several lockers.
"Put your things anywhere, claim an empty locker if you'd like. You'll be working a half-day shift with ten minutes for break, thirty for lunch. Lunch will be before rush hour."
Yixing tries his best to swallow all the information he's being fed.
"Now," Junmyeon claps, "you need a uniform."
He turns and starts digging in one of the boxes piled carelessly in the corner.
"Here you are."
Yixing catches a neat red shirt, thankfully still wrapped in its original packaging.
"Tell me if it's too small," Junmyeon says, leading him back out of the staff room. "Bathroom is here. You can get changed before I take you back out."
Yixing locks himself into the single stalled washroom, yanking his shirt over his head and replacing it with the company mandated uniform. It's a bit tight, but Yixing supposes it accentuates his figure.
"Lovely," Junmyeon comments when he steps back out.
"New kid!" The door to the kitchen swings open, revealing a smiley man with a singed apron around his waist.
"This is Jongdae," Junmyeon introduces, "He's the head chef."
"You're Luhan's friend, right?"
Does Luhan know everyone in the city?
"Yeah," Yixing nods, slightly wary of working with someone who looks like he's caught fire more than once.
"Good luck out there; you'll need it," Jongdae claps him on the back and pushes past into the staff room.
"Wha-"
"Never mind that," Junmyeon clears his throat, "Anyways, let's meet the rest of the staff, shall we?"
Yixing follows him back out the door and through the kitchen.
"Minseok is our second in command."
At the sound of his name, a small man with wide eyes spins around, abandoning the dough on the counter.
"Oh!" he chirps, "Yixing, right?"
Yixing hums in affirmation.
"I think I've met you before," Minseok purses his lips, "At one of Luhan's parties back when I was in university."
Yixing wracks his brain for any memories of the distinctive face but draws a blank. Minseok shakes his head.
"Don't worry. It's probably better that you don't remember me."
"Uh-"
"Moving on," Junmyeon swings him away, nudging him towards the very back room.
"Kitchenhand. Zitao."
A rather tall man with delicate features glances up at the now occupied doorway from where he is chopping peppers.
"Is he replacing Sehun?"
Zitao speaks to Junmyeon, not bothering to acknowledge Yixing.
Junmyeon sighs.
"Tao, Sehun resigned, we didn't fire him."
Zitao hums, returning to his task without another word. Junmyeon drags Yixing back out and towards the front of the shop.
"Don't mind him, he's really very friendly. Just a bit emotional," Junmyeon murmurs.
The last employee seeming to inhabit the pizza place is resting behind the front counter, whistling to himself.
"And lastly-"
The man whips around.
"Byun Baekhyun," he introduces himself, "You're the fresh meat?"
"I guess so," Yixing replies, shrugging a shoulder.
Baekhyun gives him a once-over.
"…You'll fit in just fine," he concludes with a smirk.
Junmyeon coughs discreetly to draw attention back to himself.
"Well, that's the entire early shift team, I suppose. Now for you," Junmyeon taps Yixing's chest, "I want you to take off-peak hours behind the counter-Baekhyun will supervise you-and rush hours outside with the sign."
"The sign?" Yixing narrows his eyes, tugging at the collar of his new uniform.
Junmyeon reaches behind the counter and lifts an enormous poster board arrow from its hiding place. The front reads: ‘Paradise Slice Pizza Co. Damn good pie!'.
"Seriously?" Yixing scans Junmyeon's face. "I didn't know anybody still used these things. This is an artifact."
Junmyeon pouts.
"Luhan said you have a pretty face, and that you can dance. Both key for a position of this caliber. But if you don't have the spirit-"
"No, no!" Yixing holds up his hands, "I need this job, I'll inject concentrated spirit directly into my bloodstream if I have to."
Junmyeon smiles and nods approvingly. He turns and heads back into the staff room with a spring in his step.
"Oh! One last thing." Junmyeon spins on his heel. "You know that pizza place next door? Little Piggy's Pizzeria?"
Yixing nods.
"Yeah, they have a sign holder too. He's certifiably insane. Have fun!"
Yixing is left with the sounds of Baekhyun’s hysterical laughter.
It's nearly noon and they've had fewer than five customers all day. Yixing can suddenly see why Junmyeon is so desperate for a pretty face to push their pizza.
He leans over to Baekhyun, who's nearly asleep standing up.
"What Junmyeon said about the guy next door being crazy… That was a joke, wasn't it?"
Baekhyun glances back at him with a snort and mutters, "Junmyeon doesn't 'joke'."
"Showtime!" Junmyeon appears from around the corner with an unnecessarily jovial grin.
He holds the sign up towards Yixing.
"Have fun! No swearing or shows of violence, though. Not that much fun," Junmyeon finishes very soberly.
Yixing has the sudden assumption that Junmyeon sets fires for fun during his days off.
"Go get 'em tiger," Baekhyun follows up with a wink.
Outside, Little Piggy's’ sign holder is already at work. He's parked himself just to the right of the entrance and is smiling politely to passersby, occasionally offering a recommendation for his shop. He looks to be in his late twenties, with tanned skin and neatly styled hair. He doesn't look nearly as bad as Junmyeon made him out to be.
Yixing holds his sign up, trying his best to mimic the other man.
"Hi," he coos to a woman passing by, flashing her a dazzling smile, "Would you like to try our pizza today?"
She freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. Her gaze falls and she gives a shy smile, nodding and entering the shop. She glimpses back towards Yixing as she goes.
That was easy.
"You the new guy?"
Yixing looks up to find his fellow human billboard directly across from him. He's quite handsome despite the judgemental frown he's sporting. His shirt is solid black with Little Piggy's Pizzeria in small pink lettering over the breast. He looks Yixing over critically.
"Yeah," Yixing answers casually, offering a lazy smile.
The man narrows his eyes.
"Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
"The… cute little smile," the man motions at Yixing's mouth with a finger.
"Ah," Yixing lifts a hand to cover his mouth, "What kind of look would you prefer I give you?"
"No look. Don't look. I don't want to see your face," the man replies.
"Then you might not want to turn this way for the next two hours or so," Yixing mumbles from behind his hand.
"Don't get sassy with me," the man warns, tossing Yixing a poisonous glare and heading back to his position further down the sidewalk.
"Yes, sir!" Yixing calls back, dropping his hand to his side.
His competitor's shoulders tense for a split-second before relaxing again.
Yixing chuckles; this job is already fun.
The mid-summer sun is sweltering enough to warrant using his company's sign to fan himself.
A young woman passes by on the street and Yixing pipes up, "Hello, beautiful. How about some pizza for lunch? Three dollars a slice, a dozen options." He smiles, working the dimple.
"Yes, please."
The young woman practically throws herself into the shop, already bustling with customers.
His rival sign-holder is watching him with daggers in his eyes. When a woman in a business suit wanders past, he sidles up to her and gives her a sultry smile. Yixing can't hear what he says to her, but whatever it is she seems to like it. She blushes, nodding and following his gesture into their shop. The man throws a sarcastically saucy wink back at Yixing from over his shoulder and he gets the feeling that an unofficial war has just begun.
Yixing tugs at the collar of his uniform to keep it from sticking to his neck with sweat. Popping the first few buttons open to cool himself down inadvertently draws two more customers into Paradise Slice.
"Seriously?" the other sign holder ogles, "We'll be thoroughly screwed if you ever decide to endorse a rebel militia. One flourish of that dimple, a little flash of nipple, and the government is done for."
Yixing struggles to wrap his head around such a strange comment.
"…Was that a compliment?" he mutters, swinging his gaze back to the sidewalk, "Oh! Speaking of compliments, you're looking especially stunning today, miss. How about a slice of pizza from Paradise Slice?"
His competitor rolls his eyes and makes an exaggerated retching sound.
The girl giggles into her hand, nodding and heading inside. The shop is nearly filled to capacity and despite it being his first day, Yixing considers asking for a raise.
He whistles to himself happily, giving his sign an experimental spin by the single strap on the back. The rival sign-holder barks out a laugh and sends him a condescending look.
"That's kid's stuff," the man calls in Yixing's direction, loud enough for the passing hordes to hear, "Watch this."
He draws attention to himself before tossing his sign up above his head. It spins several times in the air before the man catches it flawlessly with one hand. None of the passersby seem particularly in awe of his trick despite his expression of unmatched pride.
Yixing tries spinning it above his head like a helicopter before swinging it down behind his back then around and under his leg. He receives a quick holler from an appreciative pedestrian.
The other man purses his lips in frustration, running a hand through his hair. He rests the sign on top of his foot, kicking it up so that it rotates a few times. He snatches in out of the air and redirects it to his back, letting the momentum spin it around another few times before he gives it a push and it flies up, over his head, and into his waiting arms. There are a few cheers and one shrill congratulatory whistle.
Yixing claps in his direction which instantly sours his mood.
"Shut it, Flower Boy!" he points to Yixing.
"It's 'Yixing', actually," he replies with a grin.
"Get that dimple away from me," the man glowers.
"Your shift is over, Yixing!" Junmyeon calls from the doorway, disappearing just as quickly as he'd shown up. Has it already been two hours?
"Looks like this dimple is heading home now," he says to his grumpy competitor.
"Good riddance!"
"You have a nice afternoon too!" Yixing calls back, waving.
"So, how was your first day?" Luhan asks when Yixing mounts the stairs to the kitchen.
He leans against the railing and considers the question for a moment.
'I don't want to see your face.'
"…I think I made a friend."
DAY 2
"Yixing!"
Junmyeon scrambles up to him while he's on his way to the staff room the next morning.
"We've never had a lunch rush like we had yesterday," he gawks, "Whatever you were doing, do it again. Every day. Forever."
Yixing half shrugs, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face.
"That's what I'm here for."
He shuffles past the manager and hangs his backpack on one of the hooks.
"I'm serious," Junmyeon insists, "It was unbelievable. Thank Luhan for recommending you. While you're at it, tell him thanks for the other stuff, too. He'll know what I mean."
Junmyeon turns and leaves and Yixing gets the suspicious feeling that his manager is not only a pyromaniac, but also a cocaine addict.
Out of the front window, Yixing spots the rival sign holder preparing for his shift early and leans towards Baekhyun.
"Can you give me any more information on the sign holder for Little Piggy's?" Yixing asks in a hushed tone, as if he's requesting government secrets.
Baekhyun breathes out a laugh and cracks his knuckles.
"His name is Luo Zhixiang. He's the resident fucking maniac. He's already thirty-seven, nobody quite knows why he's still so adamant on holding this position. Probably pride. But for what? I don't know."
Yixing nods slowly, feeling as though he should be noting all of this down.
Baekhyun continues, "He's a moron. And what's worse, he's gutsy. Definitely in the running for the next Darwin Award."
Yixing glances out the window just in time to see the man-Zhixiang-trip over his own foot and almost bowl down a family of four.
"…Right."
"Our last guy, Sehun, resigned a week ago because he couldn't handle the pressure. Or maybe he just couldn't stand sharing a ten metre radius with that guy," Baekhyun adds, nodding out the window.
"He can't be that bad," Yixing reasons, "I mean he hasn't run us out of business yet. He's just a bit… immature."
"A demon, I tell you." Baekhyun gives one more punctuating point in Zhixiang's direction.
When Yixing turns around, Junmyeon is waiting for him with the sign in his hands and a grin on his face.
"On my way, boss," Yixing salutes, tucking the sign under his arm and marching out the door. "Good morning, Zhixiang," he greets cheerily.
He receives a skeptical glare in return.
"How do you know my name?"
Yixing pauses. Is it bad that he'd asked Baekhyun? Had he been too intrusive?
When the silence stretches over a few more seconds, Zhixiang chuckles.
"Know your enemy, hm? I'm impressed, Flower Boy. You don't seem like the fighting type."
Yixing isn't sure whether he should consider that a compliment or not.
"We're hardly enemies," Yixing replies and Zhixiang makes a face.
"Whatever you say," he hums, giving his sign a little spin behind his back as he walks away.
"You've got some impressive moves," Yixing comments, knowing he's still listening, "Have you been working here for a while?"
"Four years, but who's counting?" Zhixiang replies.
"Wow. You should teach me some tricks."
Zhixiang sneers, "This isn't that kind of industry."
Yixing almost snorts at the use of the term 'industry' to describe spinning a piece of poster board for hours at a time.
"Not what kind of industry? Apprenticeship-based?"
"No, the kind where we're amicable with each other," Zhixiang hisses, frowning at him, "Now kindly retreat from my designated territory."
Yixing sighs and wanders back to his spot outside the large front window.
Entertaining himself while he waits for customers, Yixing lifts one hand to his mouth and starts beatboxing, rocking his shoulders to the self-made rhythm. Several teenagers begin to congregate around him, some of them grinning, some of them joining in with their own variations and adding on to the beat. They work flawlessly in sync with Yixing, who nearly forgets to hold up his arrow.
The rhythm manages to flow on for another few minutes before eventually tuckering out. Yixing laughs in disbelief, giving each of the teens a high-five and the suggestion of pizza for lunch.
Swivelling around, he finds Zhixiang's usual spot empty. A minute or two passes before he strides out of Little Piggy's with a boombox that looks like it retired back in 1990. Zhixiang pulls a CD from his pocket and slips it into the slot. When he presses play, an obnoxious dubstep beat starts blaring. The singing isn't too bad, Yixing admits, but the hellish combination of autotune and remixing drowns out whatever talent may have originally existed.
Zhixiang crosses his arms, puffing out his chest arrogantly.
"Is this…" Yixing quirks his head in perplexity, "…your mixtape?"
Zhixiang nods once, trying to convey casualness.
"Yeah, I've had so many requests, I had to make one eventually."
He starts spinning his sign to the beat, murmuring along to the lyrics under his breath.
"Impressive," Yixing comments, nodding to the tune.
"Your hollow compliments aren't appreciated here," Zhixiang sniffs in return.
Yixing chuckles.
Wandering back up to the entrance of his shop, he pokes his head in and asks, "Does anybody keep a guitar in the staff room?"
Baekhyun looks up from the order he's taking and replies, "What use would we have for a-"
"I do!" Minseok calls.
Yixing just barely catches his form darting back into the staff room. He returns moments later with an acoustic guitar in hand.
"My housemates hate when I practice at home," he explains, handing it off to Yixing.
Yixing grabs a stool from the counter and drags it back outside with him. He sits and places the guitar on his knee, taking care to prop the Paradise Slice arrow up against his leg. The first strum, just to test the tuning, already draws eyes to him, Zhixiang's being two of them. He hums a little melody before starting to strum an original piece; the tune is quiet without a pick on a busy street. He focusses on the chords, absently singing the lyrics that he hasn't yet solidified. The distant murmurs from passersby provide a soothing backing track to Yixing's song. A gentle breezes sweeps across the block, splaying Yixing's hair across his forehead and over his eyes. He shakes his head a little, mind occupied with remembering the tune.
When he finishes and glances back out to the street, the raucous applause nearly gives him a heart attack. A crowd has formed in a semi-circle around his stool, some of them wielding handfuls of small change to gift to Yixing.
"No, no," Yixing gestures to the entrance of his shop, "Buy yourselves a slice of pizza, instead. Make it a combo for an extra three dollars."
Several people murmur in consent, funnelling into Paradise Slice. When the group thins, Yixing is able to spy Zhixiang sitting cross-legged on the pavement, deep in thought with one hand on his chin.
"Any song requests?" Yixing asks him.
The question is ignored.
Zhixiang quickly hops to his feet and strides inside his pizza shop, appearing again with drum sticks in one hand. He kneels in front of his sign and starts to tap out a skillful rhythm against the board. It grows faster-paced and more impressive as he goes. Several people stop to appreciate his performance, a few of them deciding to try out Little Piggy's Pizzeria while they're there.
A little girl-only about five or six-steps forward with coins in her hand, bashfully holding them out to Zhixiang once he's finished his act. He smiles and shakes his head.
"Tell mummy and daddy to spend their money on some lunch, instead," he leans closer to her and whispers, "You can get a cookie inside if you ask nicely."
He points to the entrance of the pizzeria. Her eyes go wide and she turns back to her parents with a mischievous grin.
"Thank you for the thought," he says to the girl's parents as they pass by him into the shop.
Yixing can't help gaping at Zhixiang. The kindness is such a contrast to everything he's exhibited thus far.
The little flip in his stomach catches Yixing off guard.
"I'm home!" Yixing calls, kicking his shoes off.
He receives a muffled, "Up here!" from the direction of the living room.
Yixing skips up the stairs until his housemate is in view.
"How was your day?" Luhan asks.
"Do you sell drugs?"
Luhan chokes on his sandwich, punching himself in the chest a few times until he can properly swallow.
"No," he rasps, "I don't, why?"
Yixing narrows his eyes.
"Do you lend drugs?"
"No! I've never dealt illegal substances! Why are you asking me this?"
Yixing purses his lips and retreats backwards down the steps and into his room, leaving a stupefied Luhan in his wake.
DAY 3
On Yixing's third day of work, the temperature hits thirty degrees before the clocks strikes eleven.
Yixing and Baekhyun are both sprawled out on the floor behind the counter, fanning themselves with the company caps Junmyeon has provided. Jongdae is weakly kneading dough while Minseok has gifted himself a quick break to stand directly in front of the air conditioner. Zitao is almost definitely soaking his feet.
Despite all of this, Junmyeon is darting about the shop with a permanent smile plastered to his face; it's somewhat disconcerting.
When the lunch rush commences, Yixing has to drag himself out the door. The sun is directly overhead and with minimal shade from the awning, Yixing is already sweating.
"Hello," he greets potential customers with a forced smile, "Pop into Paradise Slice for an ice-blended smoothie. Five flavours, perfect for a hot day."
Not a single person turns down the attractive offer.
Yixing is considering asking Baekhyun to blend him up a smoothie when Zhixiang trudges out the door. He's tied his hair into a fountain ponytail on top of his head and Yixing bites his lip to keep from grinning at how cute it looks.
"It's hot, okay?" Zhixiang sighs when he catches Yixing's expression, "This is effective heat stroke prevention."
He takes a passive-aggressive sip from his water bottle.
"I think it looks good," Yixing admits, shrugging.
Zhixiang exhales sharply, doubtfully believing him.
"I'll go, no need to dismiss me," Yixing smirks, holding his hands up in surrender before the outburst begins.
He takes a few steps back, pressing up against the pizza shop's cool front window.
Yixing lazily spins his sign for what feels like hours, muscles exhausted in the heat.
When the temperature inevitably becomes too much to deal with, Yixing decides stripping his shirt off couldn't hurt business. He drops his uniform top onto the pavement behind him, grabbing his sign and giving it a twirl.
One young woman stops dead in her tracks to blatantly ogle him.
"Pizza, miss?" he takes a step towards the frozen woman.
She snaps out of her stupor and breaks into a mad blush, nodding and darting into the shop.
Zhixiang is openly gaping.
"It's like a damn superpower," he shakes his head in resignation.
"You're really unparalleled in backhanded compliments," Yixing admits, pushing his bangs off of his face.
"I'll take that as a backhanded compliment," Zhixiang hums, grinning cheekily.
He undoes the buttons of his uniform and shrugs his shirt off, mirroring Yixing. His body is surprisingly toned-especially his arms. A few high school girls seem to agree, murmuring to each other as they pass him; one of them looks as though she wants to take a picture.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Can I suggest you visit Little Piggy's Pizzeria? Best pizza in town, you have my guarantee." He flashes them a heartwarming smile.
They giggle, quick to accept his proposition and file into the shop.
Zhixiang gives a celebratory shimmy of his shoulders, skipping back over to where he left his sign after undressing. He spins it behind his back easily and Yixing is in awe of how laid-back he seems when he's not in the midst of striving for petty victories.
Yixing is torn from his thoughts when something hits him in the leg. He glances down and notices a basketball rolling past him. He scoops it up with one hand and circles it around his arms, dribbling it behind his back and through his legs before spinning it on his finger.
Two young children scramble up to Yixing in awe and he assumes the ball belongs to them.
He hands it over to the little girl and says, "Make sure it doesn't roll onto the street, okay? It'll get squished by a car." Yixing's face is solemn, portraying the severity of a squished basketball to the kids.
They nod.
"Sorry about that," a woman says, scurrying up behind the children.
Yixing assumes she's their mother and smiles.
"Nothing to be sorry about. Why don't you stop for some pizza? Or a smoothie, since it's so hot out?"
The woman smiles gratefully, patting her kids on the back, "Great idea."
When Yixing draws his attention back to Zhixiang, he's met with a calculating stare. Yixing strolls towards, pausing when Zhixiang retreats into his shop.
"Wang Xun!" he hears, "Pass me some oranges from the freezer!"
When he steps back out, he's holding two small oranges in his right hand and one in his left.
Yixing perks up.
"You know how to juggle?"
Zhixiang casts him a throwaway glance, "I had a crash course."
"Right," Yixing nods, taking a cautionary step back.
Zhixiang huffs in concentration, readjusting his stance before tossing the first orange.
He does pretty well, at first. The makeshift balls go where he throws them, and he strategically catches them all a moment later. Yixing admires the subconscious smile that flutters onto Zhixiang's face when he realizes the success he’s having.
Then things start to get away from him.
One orange flies too far forwards, one flies too far back, and the other comes down while he's preoccupied, hitting Zhixiang square in the nose and tumbling to the ground innocently.
"Ow, shit," he hisses, grabbing his nose with one hand.
Yixing rushes to side.
"Are you alright? You're not bleeding, are you?"
An almighty sigh escapes Zhixiang, trailing off into an exasperated groan.
"What's wrong?"
"Why don't you hate me?" he squawks, holding his nose tenderly.
Yixing's eyebrows furrow.
"Why would I hate you?"
Zhixiang throws his hand up as if it were obvious.
"Because we're rivals! Fierce competitors! Only one can win!"
Yixing narrows his eyes and replies, "…It's pizza."
Zhixiang looks like he's about to pass out from the understatement.
"You're missing the bigger picture!"
"What? The global impact of consumerism?" Yixing guesses.
"Oh my God, leave. Just leave me." Zhixiang closes his eyes, summoning his inner peace.
Yixing exhales, snatching his shirt and happily returning back inside to mark the end of his shift. After all that, Yixing isn't entirely certain the display of sincerity he had seen yesterday was even from the same person.
"How was work?" Luhan asks when Yixing returns home.
Yixing walks past his friend and into his room, falling face-first onto his bed.
DAY 4
"You're still here," Zhixiang mentions when he notices Yixing the next day, sounding almost congratulatory.
Yixing shrugs. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
"So it seems," he muses.
Zhixiang props his sign up on one end and leans against it casually.
"What otherworldly talents do you have in store for us today? Sword swallowing? Fire breathing, perhaps?" He quirks his head with a sarcastic grin. "How about a dance, Flower Boy? You look like you could annihilate the Cha Cha Slide."
No sooner have the words left his mouth, than does a catchy beat start blaring from the stereo system at Paradise Slice. Yixing glances back in surprise and catches Baekhyun, the eavesdropper, flashing him a thumbs up.
Yixing turns back to Zhixiang and shrugs.
"Sure, I'll dance."
He backs up a few steps and makes sure nobody is close enough to hit before improvising to the music. A group forms quickly, massing around Yixing as he moves. Two girls at the very front of the crowd start cheering when he drops to the ground and rolls his hips down rhythmically. A split-second glance at Zhixiang reveals that his mouth is agape and his arrow is sprawled carelessly beside him.
Yixing tires out quickly, sweating profusely under the summer sun. He takes a break to rehydrate and notices Zhixiang pacing with a flustered expression. Strolling nearer, Yixing hears him muttering to himself, clenching his fists at his sides.
"I don't get it, I don't get it."
"Can you dance?" Yixing asks.
Zhixiang swings around with wide eyes, not expecting Yixing to be beside him.
"Of course I can dance," he snaps.
"Try that, then," Yixing suggests, "It makes people happy."
"Don't try and give me tips like you're a professional, Flower Boy," Zhixiang grimaces.
Yixing cocks an eyebrow.
"A professional human billboard?"
"Zip it."
Zhixiang stalks over to the entrance of Little Piggy's and sticks his head through the doorway. Yixing can clearly hear an agitated shout: "Wang Xun! Put music on the awning speakers!"
A gorgeous adagio piano piece starts to tinkle through.
"Dance music, you human can-opener!"
At least Yixing isn't the only one with a nickname.
Zhixiang pops back out when he detects a sufficiently bass-heavy beat. He shakes out his arms and rolls his neck to loosen his muscles. The improvised hip-hop moves he breaks into quite honestly stun Yixing to stillness. When Zhixiang had said he could dance, Yixing hadn't expected anything of this caliber.
The people crossing along the sidewalk begin to form into a crowd and Yixing claps along with the beat, helping to hype them up. Zhixiang's style is heavy on the locking, naturally staying quite high where Yixing likes to get low; it's different, but entrancing.
When Zhixiang tires out, Yixing steps back in and attempts some breakdancing, conscious that his stage is an unforgiving sidewalk. He only tries out some easy tricks, crowd-pleasers, and finishes off by using his arrow in one hand to prop him up into a handstand.
Zhixiang's fists clench around his signboard out of annoyance when the audience reacts.
"Alright," he murmurs, urging Yixing aside and taking a few steps back in preparation.
He takes a running start before placing the edge of his arrow on the pavement and catapulting his body forward into a flip.
Surprisingly, he lands on his feet.
The victory only lasts a split-second though; Zhixiang rolls over on his ankle, falling to the ground in a jumbled heap.
A collective gasp ripples through the crowd. Despite the concerned whispers, Yixing is the only one who runs to his side.
"Zhixiang! Are you alright?" he kneels down.
Zhixiang coughs and sits up, wiping his hands dismissively on his uniform.
"I'm quite alright, folks, thank you for your concern," he speaks to the strangers rather than to Yixing, "May I suggest you calm your terror with a slice of pizza from Little Piggy's Pizzeria?"
Yixing scoffs, yanking Zhixiang to his feet-foot.
"Ouch, shit," he hisses, lifting his left leg up slightly to keep any weight off his ankle.
Yixing sighs and urges Zhixiang's arm around his shoulder.
"Come on."
Zhixiang freezes.
"What? Where?"
"I'm taking you back to my place."
Zhixiang blows his bangs out of his face. "Please, we hardly know each other."
"To treat your ankle," Yixing specifies with narrowed eyes, "It's only a few blocks away."
Zhixiang sighs, hesitantly leaning his weight into Yixing.
They make the journey in under ten minutes.
Yixing grabs the spare key out from under a flower pot, only just realizing that he'd forgotten to collect his bag.
He'd also forgotten to bring the sign in… and mention that he was leaving early. Oh God, Junmyeon is going to set him on fire.
Pushing all this to the back of his mind, Yixing helps Zhixiang through the doorway and down the hall. His bedroom is favourable to the couch; he doesn't want to make Zhixiang hop up a flight of stairs and injure himself further.
"Lie down," Yixing points to his bed, flicking the lightswitch, "I'll be right back."
He darts down the hall and grabs a bottle of painkillers and a tensor bandage from the medicine cabinet, tucking them into his pockets. From upstairs, he grabs a glass and fills it with water.
When Yixing returns to his room, Zhixiang is sitting on the edge of his bed, hands folded delicately in his lap.
"Lie down," Yixing repeats.
He sits at the end of the bed and urges Zhixiang's legs up; the injured ankle is already starting to swell. Yixing shakes two pills from the bottle and hands them to Zhixiang along with the water.
"Take these, they'll keep the swelling down," he explains.
Zhixiang does as he's told. Yixing gently probes around his ankle, asking which spots are causing him pain.
"No, yes, no, yes, fuck!" Zhixiang curses from between gritted teeth, "Yes, there."
Yixing hums.
"Flex."
He flexes.
"Point."
He points.
"It's not broken," Yixing concludes, "just sprained."
"Wonderful," Zhixiang remarks, exhaling sharply.
Pulling the tensor from his pocket, Yixing eases Zhixiang's foot onto his lap and starts to wrap it. They sit in silence while Yixing concentrates. When he's finished, he grabs two pillows from the head of his bed and props Zhixiang's foot atop them.
"…You didn't have to do this," Zhixiang hums quietly, "I could've just called a cab."
Yixing leans back onto his elbows.
"By which you mean…?"
Zhixiang sighs, slumping over dejectedly and muttering, "Thank you."
There's a drawn out silence.
Yixing takes a deep breath before breaching the subject he can’t leave alone.
"…You know, not everything has to be a competition between us."
The other man makes a face. "Where's the fun in that?"
"The way we're doing it isn't fun, and you know it," Yixing replies, looking up at the ceiling, "You don't have to be so guarded all the time."
Zhixiang doesn't reply.
"At the end of the day, we're both just trying to trick people into eating our shitty pizza."
Zhixiang runs a hand down his face wearily.
"It's not about the pizza," he admits.
Yixing had guessed there was more.
"Then what?" Yixing prompts, sitting up properly on the bed.
Zhixiang pulls his good leg up to his chest and sighs.
"…I just want to be appreciated. Or recognized. Hell, noticed would be an improvement."
He shakes his head, eyes focussed on Yixing's bed sheets.
"I want people to focus on me-for once-instead of just skimming over me," he explains, "I'm good-looking, right? At least kind of talented?"
Yixing nods, realizing the questions aren't rhetorical.
"Then why do people keep overlooking me?" he mutters.
Yixing thinks for a moment.
"…You just need to smile."
Zhixiang looks up at him skeptically.
"Why would I want to smile? Didn't you just hear my pathetic sob-story?"
Yixing chuckles, "I mean you can't be so hard on yourself. Celebrate the little things."
Zhixiang clicks his tongue and drops his head back against the wall.
"I was doing alright until you showed up. You, with your chiseled physique and irresistible dimple and countless talents and… How am I supposed to compete with that?" he groans.
"You can't think of everything as a competition. You'll only end up hurting yourself," Yixing promises, sliding closer.
Zhixiang sticks his tongue out in distaste.
"If it's not a competition, then how am I supposed to win?"
"'Success' and 'winning' aren't necessarily the same thing, Zhixiang. You can succeed without having to beat somebody else," Yixing explains slowly, aware that it's a foreign concept, "As long as you're pleased with the outcome, then you've won. Always."
Yixing pokes Zhixiang in the chest. He's still for a few seconds, digesting the new information.
"…Oh," he murmurs.
They lock eyes and Yixing smiles sincerely.
"…Thank you." Zhixiang looks as though he's not sure what to do with his discovery. "Not just for this," he continues, "Thank you for appreciating what I was doing. I figured that since you were my competition you were just pitying me."
Yixing shakes his head. "I never pitied you."
"Yeah, I know that now. You were too kind to me, I didn't deserve it," Zhixiang drops his gaze to his lap.
Almost instinctively, Yixing leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Zhixiang doesn't move into it, but he doesn't move away either. When Yixing pulls back after a moment, Zhixiang's eyes are wide, searching his face.
"That…was far more homosexual than anything I expected from you."
"Uh," Yixing turns away, face already flaming with regret, "Sorry, I didn't-"
"Do it again."
"Excuse me?" Yixing whips back around.
Zhixiang blinks.
"You heard me, Flower Boy. That gay thing, do it again. I liked it."
Yixing swallows, suddenly nervous. He leans towards Zhixiang, intending for it to be another chaste peck. Zhixiang, however, grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks him forward into a bruising kiss. Their lips move together, Zhixiang moaning into his mouth and dropping one hand to Yixing's hip.
"Holy shit," Yixing gasps when they separate.
Zhixiang studies his expression.
"Good?" he asks carefully.
Yixing nods wordlessly. He barely has time to recover before Zhixiang flips him and presses him down into the bed.
Luhan tosses his duffel bag on the floor beside the coat hook, kicking off his cleats. He takes the stairs to the kitchen two at a time. According to his phone, it's already half past noon which means lunch is overdue.
He’s scouring the fridge for anything edible when he hears a single thump from downstairs, loud and distinct.
He freezes.
Yixing's shift doesn't end for another half an hour.
…So who's in the house?
He gently closes the fridge door and inches back down the stairs. Snatching an umbrella off its hook, Luhan tiptoes down the hall that stretches to his left, pushing open doors while maintaining a fighting stance.
Spare room: clear.
Luhan’s room: clear.
Bathroom: clear.
Yixing's room: …
Thump.
Luhan jumps, hand shaking slightly.
"Ouch!"
That voice… isn't Yixing's.
"My foot, watch my foot! Fuck!" someone hisses in pain.
"Sorry!"
That voice is Yixing's.
"You're so rough," the stranger groans, "I'm going to have to change your name. Wild Boy? Beast Boy? No, that's a cartoon charac-ah!" he breaks off into a moan, "Fuck, Yixing."
Luhan's face heats up and he's suddenly eternally relieved that he never got the chance to kick Yixing's door down. He creeps back up the hall, hangs the umbrella on its hook, and escapes the sounds of muffled pleasure via the front door.
Maybe he'll just buy some pizza for lunch.