i'll be peter pan (and you just be pretty) ; one-shot

[riots]

Title: I'll Be Peter Pan (and You Just Be Pretty)
Author: loudestoflove
Pairing: Suho/Tao
Rating: R
Length: 23.5k words
Summary: When Joonmyun's parents told him to go out, join a club, make contacts, Joonmyun is pretty sure that they never meant EXO, and they certainly never meant Zitao. Somehow, he can't help himself from getting swept into their world, and he may have gotten in over his head. Secret society AU.
A/N: written for feixing for runandgun 2013!! a world of thanks to s and k for hand-holding and betaing.

When his parents told him to go out, join a club, make contacts, Joonmyun is pretty sure that they didn't mean this.

EXO's yearly masquerade party is always the event of the season. It's nigh on impossible to get into, invitations coveted and flaunted. Joonmyun has his connections, but it's sheer luck that he's even here right now. He pulls at his button up shirt uncomfortably, leaning back against the wall. For all of his experience with galas and events, Joonmyun doesn't exactly blend in here. He's small and soft, his suit is borrowed, and even with the plain white mask covering half his face, he feels exposed and awkward.

Baekhyun is the reason he's even here at all. Joonmyun tightens his fingers around his glass as his eyes fall on him across the room. He's laughing, eyes half-closed, one hand delicately curled around the elbow of his companion. Yifan, Baekhyun had said his name was. He'd been talking for weeks about his tall Chinese guy, multilingual, rich, model handsome. Gushing, really. Joonmyun and the rest of his friends had been all but convinced that Baekhyun had made him up, but now here he stands.

Joonmyun has to admit, he can see the attraction. Yifan is tall and broad-shouldered, and well aware of how good he looks, jacket sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He has strong brows, a long, straight nose and a small half-smile on his face, every inch of it directed down at Baekhyun. His dark eyes, mostly hidden behind the studded black velvet mask he wears, the one that marks him as a member of EXO, are fixed down on Baekhyun.

Baekhyun, he fits right next to Yifan, hand sliding around Yifan's waist as he tucks himself under his arm. He looks small next to Yifan, dark-rimmed eyes sly behind his silver mask. At least, Joonmyun thinks, the infatuation seems to be mutual.

He does wish, though, that maybe Baekhyun could have introduced him to at least one other person. Joonmyun is a little lost here. He doesn't know anyone. His fingers tap mindlessly against his glass as he surveys the room. Everyone here is so elegantly dressed, faces hidden behind elaborate decorative masks. The suit that Baekhyun has lent him is nice, but it's still no match for the rest of the party. Especially not EXO.

Even in a room full of people, they stand out. Joonmyun's eyes pause on two of them, standing by the door. All of the members of EXO are wearing simple black masks, studded in different patterns, but these two match. It's the feathers that adorn the sides of their masks – one has them on the left, one on the right. They each greet everyone who passes cordially, ever the gracious hosts, but Joonmyun watches the way they turn to each other once their guests have passed. It's hard to see their eyes behind the masks, but the smirk on the taller man's lips is plain, as is the way the other's shoulders hitch with suppressed laughter. Joonmyun isn't sure he likes this party, really.

“They could stand to be more subtle,” comes a voice from Joonmyun's ear. He startles, and he turns to look up to see a smile on bowed lips beneath yet another EXO mask. “Don't you think?”

Joonmyun shifts his glass to his other hand and shrugs carefully. “I don't know,” he says. “They seem to be good hosts.”

The man tips his head, regarding Joonmyun for a long moment, humming noncommittally. He towers over Joonmyun's small frame. “Huang Zitao,” he says. Oh, he's Chinese. His Korean is impeccable, but that explains the soft accent. He offers Joonmyun his hand and his grip is firm, his hand more calloused than Joonmyun would expect. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Kim Joonmyun.”

“Ah, Baekhyun's plus one,” Zitao says, and that smile plays on his lips again. Joonmyun is a little surprised, despite himself, but he supposes that it makes sense that Zitao knows. These parties are very, very exclusive. “Having a good time?”

No, Joonmyun thinks immediately. He looks around the room, at the people in their expensive clothes, at Baekhyun, with his fingers curled possessively around Yifan's wrist. He settles on diplomacy. “The champagne is very good,” he says.

Zitao laughs at that, sharp and genuine, and when he grins at Joonmyun, it's all teeth. “Can I help, then?”

Across the room, Zitao's friends are watching them, and between that and Zitao's scrutiny, the way he leans just a little too close, Joonmyun feels on edge. He grips the stem of his champagne glass tight. “That's very kind of you, but – ”

Zitao's hand closes firmly around his elbow, and Joonmyun realizes that no was never much of an option, after all. “This is our party,” Zitao insists, and he nudges Joonmyun into motion, away from the wall and through the people mingling and talking. “Shouldn't we look after the guests?”

There are eyes on them. Joonmyun's family is well off and he's seen his share of high class parties and fundraisers, of having to dress up and play a role, but he's fairly certain he's never been under this level of scrutiny before. “I suppose,” he agrees, and Zitao rewards him with a friendly squeeze.

They end up out on the balcony. The night air is cool enough that he appreciates Zitao's proximity, the way that his arm brushes up against Joonmyun's as they lean against the railing. “You've never been to one of these, have you?” Zitao says. Joonmyun watches as he idly swirls his champagne around in his glass. “You're all stiff and – ” He turns to Joonmyun, and even behind the mask, Joonmyun can see the way he pointedly widens his eyes. “Like you're scared.” He smiles, teasing, tongue between his teeth.

Who is this guy, to be speaking like this? His arrogance is astounding. “I'm not afraid,” Joonmyun snorts. “I'm just...a bit out of my depth.” He drains the last of his champagne, and shrugs a shoulder, throwing Zitao a sideways look. “Your friends look a bit predatory.”

“Aren't they?” Zitao agrees. The faint light from inside catches on the studs of his mask, two lines arching from where his temples would be down to the bridge of his nose, and on the bow of his lips as he smiles a little.

He doesn't say anything more, though, and it makes Joonmyun fidget. There are a half dozen small-talk platitudes on the tip of his tongue, ready to go, but he bites them back. He can't help but wonder what exactly it was that had caught Zitao's eye. This isn't a small party, and he's sure that everyone here has been carefully picked and vetted before they even walked through the door, himself included. They can't all be boring.

When he glances up again, he sees the twist of Zitao's mouth, an expression that fades after a second, almost like an afterthought. He doesn't like Joonmyun's silence. “You finished your drink,” Zitao says. “Another?”

Joonmyun isn't certain that drinking too much at a party like this is a good idea, but Zitao's already raising a hand, snapping his fingers at a waiter as he passes by the open balcony door. At least, he supposes, he should take advantage of this free champagne. He doesn't forget his manners, though. “Thank you,” he says, and Zitao favours him with a smile, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“So, Kim Joonmyun,” he says, and he leans back against the railing. Like this, he's all clean lines, one long leg stretched out in front of him, his head tipped back. Joonmyun realizes with a start that Zitao isn't wearing anything underneath his dark, tailored jacket, and he flushes and looks away when Zitao shifts, exposing a sliver of tan skin above his belt. “Law major, hmm?” He takes a sip from his champagne flute, not quite delicately, and Joonmyun decides to look out at the lights of the city instead of watching the way that Zitao's throat works when he swallows. “Thinking of following in your father's footsteps?”

It takes Joonmyun a second to reply and he busies himself with his champagne, instead. “Partly,” he admits, and Zitao smiles, smug. He likes being right, Joonmyun thinks. “But I like law, too.”

“Oh?” Zitao turns to face him, and once again, he's just a hair too close, making it so that Joonmyun has to crane his neck to meet his gaze. It's uncomfortable.

“Yes,” Joonmyun says, with enough bite to it that Zitao snorts. “I like law. It can be really rewarding, and I can help out people in need.” He's getting defensive, but it's true. Maybe it's a bit romantic, but getting the chance to fight for justice, in whatever small way he can, he likes that a lot. “And I'm good at it,” he adds, and that gets him a pleasant nod from Zitao. Of course, being good at it doesn't mean much when you can't get a job. He's applied to dozens of law internships this summer and the silence he's gotten in return is deafening. “And since you already know everything there is to know about me, does that mean I get to know a bit about you? What's your major?”

“Economics,” Zitao says lazily. “But I'm minoring in Philosophy, so it's not all boring stuff.”

Joonmyun purses his lips. “Philosophy?” he asks.

“I love it,” Zitao says him, and for a second, it's like he forgets to look so bored. Joonmyun thinks it's the most charming he's been so far tonight. “Classes about how people see things and solve problems? It's – ” His eyes flick over to the open door and his mouth snaps shut, abruptly. “It's interesting.” He shrugs. “It fills the time.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Joonmyun can see Yifan watching them, small mouth pressed into a tight line. He lingers for a second, but when Baekhyun pulls insistently at his elbow, he disappears again into the party. “No, I get it,” Joonmyun says. “It's always easier to study something that actually interests you.”

“Like fighting the good fight? A knight in shining armour.”

Joonmyun isn't sure he likes the teasing tone to Zitao's voice, but he decides to let it slide. “Yeah,” he says. “Something like that.” Zitao laughs again, that same honest one and Joonmyun finds he's smiling, despite himself.

“Hyung!” Joonmyun turns to see Baekhyun, leaning against the doorframe. “Time to head out.” Behind him, Yifan stands with his big hands planted on Baekhyun's shoulders, and he bends to nose at Baekhyun's throat and whisper something. Baekhyun frowns, squirming out from under the touch, and the look on Yifan's face, an odd mix of irritation and straight-up confusion, makes Joonmyun want to laugh out loud. Yifan is clearly not a man familiar with being told no.

“Better go,” Zitao says. He plucks Joonmyun's glass out of his hands and nudges him forward with a very firm hand against the small of his back. “Your ride awaits.”

He does his best not to frown. He'd wanted to finish his drink, but he supposes it's a bit rude to try to snatch a glass out of your host's hand. “It was nice meeting you, Huang Zitao,” he says, and he tugs his mask off and inclines his head.

“Maybe I'll see you around?” Zitao asks, although it's not quite a question, a half-smile playing on his lips. He pushes his mask up, giving Joonmyun a quick glimpse of high cheekbones and slanted eyes before Baekhyun pulls him away.

He spends the car ride home listening to Baekhyun share gossip about EXO's elite circle and making noises in the right places, but somehow his head's stuck on dark eyes and the perfect bow of Zitao's lips.



♛



“An EXO party?” Sehun asks, taking a sip of his giant, sugar-laden drink. “Swanky.” His expression is studiously uninterested, but Joonmyun knows far better than to trust it. Sehun is chewing too vengefully on his straw for real boredom.

“What about an EXO party?” Joonmyun tips his head back as Kyungsoo comes up behind him, two mugs of coffee in his hands. He sets one down in front of Joonmyun and Joonmyun smiles at him gratefully, catching his wrist for a second and squeezing. He needed this today.

Sehun gestures at Joonmyun lazily. “This guy got in. One of his buddies is banging the society head.”

Raising his eyebrows over his coffee, Kyungsoo hums a little, his expression unreadable.

“It was an experience,” Joonmyun says, after a second. “I felt like the suits they were wearing cost more than my tuition.” He shrugs a shoulder, curling his fingers around his warm mug. “They seemed nice enough, though.” It's not entirely a lie, really.

Sehun leans in close at that. “Wait, you were talking to them?” He props his chin up on one hand, eyebrows disappearing underneath his bright pink bangs. “Does this mean you have an in? Can you get them to pay someone to fix my grades? I'm bombing Mandarin.”

“Maybe if you studied, you wouldn't have these problems?” Joonmyun laughs, and when Sehun frowns, he reaches out to tap a finger against Sehun's forehead. “You could use your brain sometimes, I promise it won't hurt.” Sehun bats his hand away. “Besides, it was just the one of them. I guess you'll have to live without the perks.”

“Boring,” Sehun declares, taking a long, noisy sip of his drink.

Kyungsoo hasn't said anything, but his gaze on Joonmyun is heavy. “Nice, huh,” he says, and his voice is carefully neutral. He looks serious, full lips pressed together as he idly taps his fingers against his coffee cup.

“Yes,” Joonmyun says, and he almost winces at how defensive he sounds. “Zitao was nice. He came and talked to me, and he got me a drink.”

“Are we talking like, nice nice, or hot nice?” Sehun asks, tapping his straw against his lips. Joonmyun doesn't bother to answer, choosing instead to to send him a very disparaging look. It doesn't help much. “Ohhh. Hot nice.” He smirks and Joonmyun hates him, just a little.

Kyungsoo silences Sehun with a quick jab to his ribs and Sehun crumples, folding in half and whining. Sehun may have at least a head on both of them, but Kyungsoo has never, ever let it intimidate him. “You know, I hear a lot of things about that club,” Kyungsoo says. “They're not really good things.”

Joonmyun hides the twist of his mouth behind his coffee. Kyungsoo isn't the only one who's heard stuff about EXO. A secret society of only the most wealthy and elite, young men with a lot of power and too much time on their hands. They're always at the centre of things, good or bad, and that leads to some very silly stories floating around. Joonmyun has heard middle-aged women gossip about how the members of EXO must have sold their souls to live the charmed lives they do, and they were only half joking. But still, doesn't everyone deserve a fair chance? “Are you warning me away from them?” Joonmyun asks, lips quirking up in a smile. “Who's the hyung here?”

It's not much, but the gentle jibe softens the look in Kyungsoo's big eyes. “I'm just saying,” he protests, holding up a hand.

“I can look after myself,” Joonmyun tells him, and he pats Kyungsoo's knee. “But I appreciate it.”

“Can you look after me, too?” Sehun asks. He holds up his now empty drink, waving the plastic cup under Joonmyun's nose. “I need another.”

“Brat,” Joonmyun chides, but there's no heat behind it. Sehun beams, he knows that Joonmyun's given in, and he tips sideways to rest his head against Joonmyun's shoulder. He's telling Joonmyun what a good hyung he is before Joonmyun even reaches into his jacket pocket for his wallet.

His fingers close around something flat with sharp edges, and he pulls out a black business card, the symbol of EXO's club embossed in silver on it. “What's that?” Kyungsoo asks.

Joonmyun flips it over. There's just a name, Huang Zitao, and a number, written in small, neat print. He stares at it for a second, a smile spreading across his lips. He has no idea how it even got there, and he's actually a little bit impressed. Zitao is something else. “Nothing,” Joonmyun says, finally, and he pockets it again.

Sehun whines until Joonmyun fishes out some cash and hands it over, and Sehun breaks into a pleased smile, patting his back enthusiastically and sliding out from behind the small table to go get his drink. Joonmyun watches him go in silence. Really, the party at EXO is the last thing on his mind right now. He can't stop thinking about the email he got this morning, a quick, three line rejection informing him that unfortunately, all the positions had been filled, but they would keep him on file. That was the last chance he'd had, the last internship, and now Joonmyun is looking at an empty summer filled with odd jobs and his parents' disappointment. This is his last summer, after all, his last chance before his final year of university, and he's dropped the ball. He doesn't even want to think about how hard it will be to find a job with no experience at all. How will he be able to practice law, much less help people with the type of pro bono work he wants to do, if he can't even get an internship? Under the table, he digs his fingers into his thighs.

“Are you alright?” Kyungsoo asks. “You're quiet.”

“I'm fine,” Joonmyun replies immediately, and he has to force his smile a bit. “It just looks like my summer opened up, that's all.”

Kyungsoo grimaces a bit in sympathy. “Another no? I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Oh well,” Joonmyun says, and he makes sure he sounds cheery. “I'll just pick up that tutoring gig with Baekhyun. You can't ever have too many extracurriculars, right?”

Kyungsoo isn't buying it, but he doesn't say anything. “And extra time to hang out with your new friends,” he agrees. “You can go to all the exclusive parties and leave the rest of us peons behind.”

“Stop being so doom and gloom,” Joonmyun says. “They're just some rich kids. I barely even know them!”

“Some really, really rich kids,” Kyungsoo says dryly. He shrugs a shoulder and his smile softens the tension in the air. “Alright. I wash my hands of this. Don't say I didn't warn you.”

“You get first dibs on an I-told-you-so,” Joonmyun agrees easily, and Kyungsoo raises his drink in response, laughing.

When Sehun comes back, he drops his change in Joonmyun's lap and then grabs Kyungsoo's attention, begging for help with his Mandarin coursework. Under the table, Joonmyun runs his fingertips across the embossed text of Zitao's card and he smiles.



♠



It takes Joonmyun a few days to get around to actually calling Zitao. Midterms are approaching and he's got a lot to do, between his own classes, tutoring Sehun and Jongin, and his seat as treasurer on the student council, and he just doesn't have the time. And okay, maybe, maybe nerves have a little something to do with it too.

Thursday afternoon, he finds the time. He's all studied out and he glances at his phone and thinks fuck it. It's as good a time as any.

Zitao sounds groggy when he picks up, and his hello is so slurred with sleep that Joonmyun can barely understand him. “Hey, it's Joonmyun. Is...this a bad time? Did I wake you up?” he asks, idly doodling on a clean page of his notebook. This was a bad idea. He already knows it was a bad idea.

“Joonmyun...” Zitao muses. He sounds like he's trying to place him, and Joonmyun is glad that Zitao can't see him right now. This is a bit humiliating. “Ah. The tiny law student.”

He's not that small. “I guess that's me,” he agrees.

There's rustling on the other end of the line, and Joonmyun feels like he's back in high school again, flustered, uncomfortable, and tongue-tied. Zitao sets him distinctly off his game. “Why are you calling so early?” Zitao asks. His tone is strangely reminiscent of Sehun's early-morning petulance, and it's distinctly too casual for how little they know each other. Still, Joonmyun is a little bit charmed.

“It's two thirty on a Thursday,” he points out, and when Zitao whines again, Joonmyun chuckles. “That was pretty sneaky,” he says. “I didn't even find the card until the next day.”

He likes the way that Zitao laughs at that, sleepy and almost sweet. “Well, I am pretty good,” he says, and he sounds pretty pleased with himself. “I was starting to think too good. It took you a while.”

“I am a busy man, you know.”

“How busy?” Zitao asks, and Joonmyun can hear him smother a yawn. “How does your schedule look for Saturday?”

Joonmyun's pen stalls on the page. “Saturday?” he asks slowly. “I have a tutoring session in the morning, but otherwise, I'm just studying. Why?”

“Dinner?” It's a question, but only nominally one. Zitao sounds pretty certain he knows what kind of answer he'll get, and Joonmyun can't decide if he minds that. “I can pick you up? In a nice car too. Promise.”

Joonmyun bites his lip, frowning at the wall. It's tempting. He could use the break from textbooks and studying and Sehun's perpetually lazy and mispronounced Mandarin. And Zitao...he's something. “That sounds like it could be fun.”

“Could be?” Zitao is almost genuinely affronted. “Please. Give me some credit.”

“I don't even know you yet,” Joonmyun points out, and Zitao scoffs. “Although, you seem to know me pretty well. Do I even need to give you directions to my place?”

“That's a yes,” Zitao says, pleased, and Joonmyun leans back in his chair, his eyes sliding shut. “You can give me directions, if you'd like.”

Joonmyun is being humoured, and he knows it. It's simultaneously irritating and charming. “Let's just skip that step,” he says. “I've got some studying to get back to.” He pauses. “And you've got your nap to return to.”

“Hmm? Nap? Oh, yes,” Zitao says. “Study hard, Joonmyun. I'll see you on Saturday. You should find another suit.”

After Zitao hangs up, Joonmyun sits for a minute, staring down at his notes without reading anything. A suit means some place fancy. Some place expensive. That feels big.

His phone vibrates with a text. and a red tie. let's match? followed by a surprisingly cute emoticon.

Joonmyun digs his teeth into his bottom lip, doing his best to swallow back the smile that's stretching across his face.



♛



Joonmyun is no stranger to fine dining, to dinners with suit jackets required and more cutlery than any one person reasonably needs, but he has never, ever gotten into the restaurant that Zitao is currently steering him into. Zitao has one hand spread across the small of his back as they breeze through the open door. “Will you be needing valet service, sir?” a man at the door inquires, and Zitao favours him with his most disdainful look.

“No, thank you,” he says, barely even pausing to address the valet properly. “My driver will look after it.”

It's probably not appropriate to apologize for your date's behaviour when he's buying you dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in Seoul, but that doesn't mean that Joonmyun doesn't want to. He settles for nodding apologetically as Zitao tugs him inside.

“Zitao,” Joonmyun begins, but Zitao turns to him, raising an elegant eyebrow, and Joonmyun bites it back. “I can't believe that you got reservations on such short notice,” he says instead.

“Reservations?” Zitao asks, and the smile he flashes Joonmyun is toothy and cheeky and sets Joonmyun a little on edge.

They approach the maitre d' and Zitao's smile never slips. He looks so at ease here, and he looks good. Joonmyun had been struck by it as soon as he'd picked him up. Zitao's legs looked miles long in those tailored, dark grey slacks, and the dark red of his pocket square precisely matched the shade of Joonmyun's bowtie. He slides his hand firmly around Joonmyun's hip as he leans in to speak to the man. “Good evening, sir,” the maitre d' inclines his head, and to his credit, he doesn't bat his eye at the two of them.

“Yes, we have a reservation,” Zitao says. Huh. Joonmyun glances up at him, but he doesn't say anything, silenced by the rhythm of Zitao's fingers drumming against his hip. Zitao's eyes keep flicking down to the book on the man's podium. Is he – he's not. He can't be. “Cha, party of two, at eight.”

Joonmyun has to swallow back his urge to laugh. Zitao is smiling serenely, confidently, like he isn't blatantly trying to steal someone else's table, and without the mask, his eyes are dark and even more compelling. “You're a bit early,” the man says, and there isn't the slightest chance he believes Zitao. Up in these higher echelons, everyone knows everyone else, and with his position here, this maitre d' must know the familiar faces. Zitao is recklessly bold.

But just as Joonmyun is tensing himself for the humiliation of being escorted out, the man's face goes oddly lax. “You'll have to excuse us, we need a few minutes to prepare your table,” he says, voice flat, and Zitao smirks.

“Of course,” he says, just shy of gracious. “Take your time.”

They stand back to wait and as the man waves over a server, Joonmyun turns to Zitao. “What was that?” he asks. “Don't you think Mr. Cha might have wanted that table?” He rubs at the back of his neck, lips tight. He feels a little bit like they're in some kind of teen comedy. Any minute now, the real Cha is going to come through the door and then chase them down the street, shouting about those damn kids.

He's not expecting the way that Zitao's bottom lip sticks out, just a little. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he says, a bit wilted, and Joonmyun sighs. It's a poor excuse but that doesn't mean he's not the tiniest bit charmed.

“This is very nice,” Joonmyun admits, and Zitao lights up, pleased as punch. Joonmyun doesn't miss the mask, not one bit. He likes getting to see all of Zitao's face, his sharp cheekbones and prominent nose, the quick flash of his thoughts written across his face. He's open that way, and Joonmyun likes it. “But Zitao, you don't have to impress – ”

“Mr. Cha, if you'll follow me, please,” the maitre d' calls, and then Zitao curls his fingers around Joonmyun's wrist and gently tugs him towards the dining room.

It's a good table. Zitao pulls out Joonmyun's chair with a bit of a little bow. When their waiter comes by with the wine list, Zitao doesn't even bother to ask Joonmyun for his opinion, just orders a bottle for their table and waves the man off. Joonmyun is no expert, but that doesn't mean that he's got no right to input in his own meal.

When Zitao finishes fiddling with his cuffs and looks up, Joonmyun fixes him with an unimpressed eyebrow raise. “What?” he asks, blinking. “Don't you like surprises?”

Joonmyun is no pushover. He's never particularly been interested in being bowled over by his dates like this. But there's no guile in Zitao's eyes. He's just so used to this way of doing things. “I also like to make my own decisions,” he says wryly.

It takes Zitao a few seconds to figure out how to reply to that. “Well,” he says. “You can choose your own food, then.”

“Gosh, really?” Joonmyun says, and Zitao makes a face, knocking one of his excruciatingly expensive shoes against Joonmyun's calf. It's a childish gesture, at odds with the way that Zitao had strong-armed his way into the restaurant, and Joonmyun tips his head to take a look at him as he drinks from his wine glass.

“It's good, isn't it?” Zitao says, and he juts his chin out, looking just shy of smug. It is, but that's really not the point. Joonmyun shrugs a shoulder and Zitao pushes out his bottom lip. “You just don't have taste,” he sniffs.

That surprises Joonmyun into laughing. “Is this always how you treat your dates?” he asks.

“No,” Zitao says. His smile is all teeth. “I don't lie my way into the best restaurant in the city for just anyone.”



♠



“Thank you for squeezing me in,” Zitao says as they meander along the sidewalk. “Since you're so busy and all. With your books and your studying.” He purses his mouth into a tight little smile, the way he does when he's pleased with a joke he's made, and Joonmyun is a little surprised to realize that he's filed this information away, like he'll use it later.

“Am I supposed to be offended by that?” Joonmyun asks, taking a bite of his soft serve. “I study so I can get good grades, and I study so I can learn to be a great lawyer.” He also studies because it's all he's got, right now. He's missed the boat on getting some experience, so he's going to have to ace all of his classes and hope to blind potential employers with his spotless record. Still, Zitao seems to have a particular skill with talking Joonmyun into taking a break and coming out with him, and that should bother Joonmyun far more than it does.

Zitao struggles with his cone. He'd gone for the massively tall one, and it seems to have been a mistake. Joonmyun laughs as he watches Zitao frown down at his ice cream, listing to the side as melting vanilla runs down between his fingers. “You're very earnest,” he says, and then his ice cream is making a break for the ground and his eyes widen in panic. He lunges forward, catching at least part of it in his mouth and making a face as it smears across his lips, steadying it with his free hand. The rest of the soft serve is looking pretty wobbly and Zitao is at a loss, ice cream everywhere.

“Oh my god,” Joonmyun claps a hand over his mouth and takes pity on Zitao. “Come here.”

He steers them over to a bench and sets his own cup carefully down, rummaging in his pocket for extra napkins. He's always prepared for these types of situations. Zitao is still desperately trying to salvage his ice cream, mournfully lapping at what's left of it. He stills when Joonmyun curls a steadying hand around his cheek, and his eyes are oddly gentle as Joonmyun carefully cleans him up. Zitao's tongue darts out to catch some of the ice cream on his top lip and Joonmyun can't help the way that his eyes follow the movement. “You know,” he says softly. “You're definitely not intimidating now.”

“I was intimidating?” Zitao asks with interest, and Joonmyun moves on to cleaning up the ice cream on his hands. Zitao is obedient, letting Joonmyun tug his cone out of his hand and then wipe the soft serve off his fingers. “I like intimidating.” He frowns a little as Joonmyun tosses out the last of his ice cream.

“Of course you do,” Joonmyun says. He stands and Zitao follows, still pouting a little. “Don't make that face. We can share.” Of course, his cup of ice cream isn't really enough to share, especially not when compared to Zitao's melting mountain of it, but he likes the way it makes Zitao puff up, pleased. “But,” he adds, handing the cup over. “I'm not feeding it to you. I think you can handle that.”

“I don't know,” Zitao says around the little plastic spoon. “I wasn't doing so well before.”

As Zitao polishes off the last of the soft serve and abandons the cup on a bench as they pass, Joonmyun reaches for his free hand. His fingers are sticky in Joonmyun's. “You're managing okay,” Joonmyun points out.

Even with the difference in their heights, it feels natural to lace his fingers into Zitao's like this. He glances over and finds Zitao looking down at their hands, eyes soft. “I think,” he says. “I think I would like to be waited on hand and foot.”

Joonmyun snorts. “I'm sure you would,” he agrees. “I'm sure Sehun would say the same. You should meet him sometime.”

Their hands swinging between them, Zitao is silent for a moment, until Joonmyun looks at him. “Yeah, sometime,” Zitao says distantly. Joonmyun is learning that Zitao isn't exactly a subtle person, and it shows now, in the way that he won't meet Joonmyun's eye, and in the sudden subject change. “So. Movie?”

It's a misdirection, but Joonmyun decides to let it go. “Ice cream and a movie? That's it?” he asks. “It's like you set me up with all these expectations just to let me down.”

Zitao rubs his thumb rhythmically across curve of Joonmyun's knuckle. “You said I didn't have to impress you, hyung,” he points out. “Do I have to rent a theatre for you?” It's a joke, but the way Zitao says it makes Joonmyun think that he could make it happen, if that's what Joonmyun wanted. It's kind of heady.

“Don't be silly,” Joonmyun says. “Just one screen is plenty for me.”

When Zitao laughs, loud and sharp, the tension has passed. He squeezes Joonmyun's hand tight and pulls them onwards, and Joonmyun follows willingly.



♛



Joonmyun darts into his third year communications class fifteen minutes late, ducking his head apologetically at the professor. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow as he slides into the seat next to him. “Late again?” he asks.

Humming, Joonmyun digs through his bag for his book. He slaps it down on the table, wincing at the noise it makes and the glare he gets from the front of the room. Where is his pen? He's such a mess this morning. Zitao had called him last night, right as he was planning to get into bed, and he'd found himself powerless to hang up. Instead, he'd laid in bed, phone pressed to his ear, and listened to Zitao talk, voice soft and syllables slurred, until they'd both fallen asleep. He hasn't done something this sappy since he was in high school, but somehow, there's something about Zitao that makes him want to indulge his every whim. Every time Zitao sends him a text and asks him to come over, Joonmyun's studying just seems to fall by the wayside. His parents would not be pleased, he's sure, but Zitao...Zitao definitely is.

Kyungsoo holds out a pen. “Does it have anything to do with your new rich boytoy?”

“I can't believe you just said that with a straight face,” Joonmyun says quietly, glancing at him sideways.

“Sehun's words,” Kyungsoo says, and he shrugs, digging an elbow into Joonmyun's side. “Quit dodging the question.”

Kyungsoo has always been too sharp to let Joonmyun talk his way out of questions he doesn't want to answer. “We were up late,” Joonmyun admits, and he's mortified when he feels himself turning faintly pink. “On the phone.”

“On the phone.” Kyungsoo snorts, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't want to hear it,” Joonmyun warns, and Kyungsoo wisely bites his tongue, but Joonmyun can still see the way he's smiling.

They both bend their heads over their notes, listening to the prof, but it's just review, and Joonmyun's mind wanders. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he ends up texting Zitao under the table. “Look at you,” Kyungsoo says, and when Joonmyun glances over at him, he looks thoughtful. “Do we ever get to meet this guy?”

“Of course,” Joonmyun says immediately, although something about the question makes him bite the inside of his mouth and frown down at his notes. He's been spending a lot of time with Zitao, it's true, but the only time it's not one on one, it's with one of Zitao's friends from EXO. Which isn't a bad thing, really, but it does make Joonmyun wonder. “I want him to meet you guys.”

Kyungsoo nods, but before he can reply, their professor clears his throat aggressively. The two of them exchange quick looks, biting back their laughter, and then turn back to their notes. Joonmyun is diligent, but he can't help but wonder if maybe, he should be concerned.



♠



For all the money that they have, Joonmyun thinks, EXO should probably be able to afford a more comfortable couch. He shifts around a bit, trying to settle down so he can get some studying done, but the leather is stiff and the stuffing is hard. It looks nice, he supposes.

Finally, he manages to wedge himself up against the arm of the couch, legs stretched across the cushions and his books propped up in his lap. This was Zitao's idea, ultimately. A few weeks after their ice cream date, he'd gotten sick of Joonmyun's excuses of studying, so he'd insisted that this time, Joonmyun come to EXO's house to study.

It's a nice place, if a bit oppressive. Everything is dark wood, antique, and vaguely uncomfortable. Joonmyun isn't particularly graceful, and he's always a bit nervous when he's here. He'd be horrified if he broke something.

He's immersed in his economics textbook, pen lid in his mouth, highlighting pertinent passages, when a weight settles on his legs. “Hi,” Zitao says, batting Joonmyun's book out of the way so he can squirm between Joonmyun's legs, resting his chin on Joonmyun's chest. He's not really light, all solid muscle, but Joonmyun finds he likes it. “How is the studying going?”

“It's better when you're not distracting me,” Joonmyun replies dryly, and Zitao smiles at him, pleased. He twists until his ear is pressed up against Joonmyun's chest. “I'm not going to get anything done here with you,” Joonmyun sighs, but he reaches down to stroke Zitao's hair.

Zitao almost purrs at the touch, tipping his head up and sighing happily. “What a shame,” he says.

“Get a room,” Lu Han yawns, throwing himself down on the chair across from them. “This doesn't look like much like studying.” He's teasing them, and Zitao laughs sleepily, unconcerned, but Lu Han's eyes are fixed on Joonmyun and they're not exactly friendly.

Joonmyun reaches fruitlessly for his textbook, now face down on the rug beside the couch. “I can't,” he says, frowning exaggeratedly. “It's out of my hands.” Zitao's weight holds him down. He shows no signs of shifting, but Joonmyun doesn't really mind that at all.

“Doesn't seem like you're trying very hard,” Lu Han shrugs. He's sprawled across the chair, long, wiry limbs arranged in an artfully casual way. It had surprised him to find out that Lu Han is one of the oldest members of the club, between the way he squabbles playfully with Zitao and how sweet and young he looks. He doesn't look so playful now, his gaze disdainful and almost hard. It doesn't seem like Joonmyun's first impression of him, gossiping at the party, was very far off from the truth.

Zitao tugs Joonmyun's highlighter out of his hand and lobs it at Lu Han's head. His aim is impeccable – it pegs Lu Han right in his upturned little nose and makes him flinch and glower. “Be nice,” he says. His voice is sharp enough that it sends a rush of gratification through Joonmyun. Zitao's hand rests warm against his ribs and he rubs his cheek into Joonmyun's chest. “You should treat my guest better.”

“I see him around here a lot these days,” Lu Han says. “He's practically part of the family now.” He doesn't sound particularly pleased about this development, and Joonmyun has to look away from him. Maybe he's been overstaying his welcome lately. Even Baekhyun isn't around this often, and he's been doing his best to climb into Yifan's pants and camp out there.

“He is, isn't he?” Zitao says, and Joonmyun watches Lu Han's eyes shift to Zitao instead. As grateful as he is for the change in focus, he can't decipher the tension that stretches between the two of them. They're saying something that Joonmyun can't read, and now he's really wondering if he should leave.

It's Yixing that breaks the silence. He comes up behind Lu Han's chair and tugs once, hard, on his hair. “Shush, sourpuss,” he says, and he exchanges a glance with Joonmyun, quick and mischievous. It's funny, watching the tightness in Lu Han's expression melt away under Yixing's hands.

He reaches up to curl his hand around Yixing's wrist. “They're all...” He waves a hand vaguely at Joonmyun and Zitao, laying on the couch, and then he's pulling Yixing down hard.

Laughing, Yixing lets him, tumbling down to land in Lu Han's lap. “Come on,” he says, fighting to right himself. Lu Han is thin, but Yixing is thinner, small and soft in Lu Han's grip. “I have dinner at my parents. Let me go.” He's not struggling very hard, though. He finally manages to escape by planting a hand in Lu Han's face and pushing him away.

“Can I come?” Lu Han asks. He's still got a hold on Yixing's thin wrist.

“Of course. I think my mother likes you better than she likes me.” He leans back and Lu Han stands up again, following Yixing's movement. “Nice seeing you again, Joonmyun,” Yixing says, and his smile is sweet and easy.

They leave and Zitao sighs, his eyes sliding shut. “You really make studying hard,” Joonmyun points out. “I don't even have my highlighter anymore.”

“He deserved it,” Zitao says, like he's daring Joonmyun to argue, but he doesn't. He just strokes a hand through Zitao's hair and laughs a little.

“I hope you don't plan on throwing things at my friends,” he says.

Zitao doesn't reply for so long that Joonmyun half wonders if he's fallen asleep, but when he twists to see his face, Zitao's eyes are open, staring forward. “Hey,” Zitao says. “Did you want to go to that gallery opening on Friday? Jongdae's brother organized it, so I should probably make an appearance.”

Another sudden subject change. Joonmyun clenches his jaw. “Are you avoiding answering my question?” he asks.

“No,” Zitao says, but his voice is small. He tilts his head up to meet Joonmyun's eyes. “I'm not. Are you?” Joonmyun can feel the heat of his breath across his collar. “It's okay if you don't get art, nobody does. Just talk about how you feel the truth of what the artist was doing and how it resonates. It's gotten me through so many of these things.”

He offers Joonmyun a smile, one of his sleepy-sweet, catlike ones, but Joonmyun's still a little cold. He is evading Joonmyun's suggestion, and it makes Joonmyun's stomach twist a little, and not in a good way. “You're an expert, huh?”

“One of my many, many talents,” Zitao agrees. He noses at Joonmyun's sternum, hot mouth pressing a ghost of a kiss against his chest. “So you'll go?”

“As your date?” Joonmyun asks.

Zitao doesn't reply, just raises his head to furrow his eyebrows in his very best deeply unimpressed look. Well, that's a 'duh'.

“Alright,” Joonmyun says, finally, although that uneasiness is still shifting around at the back of his head. “I guess I can do that.” He makes a big show of his reluctance and Zitao beams, crawling up so that he can bury his face in Joonmyun's throat.

“I like you the best,” Zitao declares, his voice muffled against Joonmyun's skin, and Joonmyun sighs, tipping his head to rest against Zitao's, the corners of his mouth turning up without his volition. How can he fight something like that?



♛



It's still a little strange for Joonmyun, but after a week or so of study dates at EXO House, he's getting more comfortable here. He's on his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water when he makes a wrong turn and, somehow, ends up down a hallway he's never seen before. He's about to backtrack when he hears the faint sound of music coming from a door at the end of the hall.

Joonmyun carefully opens the door and sticks his head in. It's a small but functional dance practice room, well lit, polished wood floors. Zitao had mentioned in passing that Yixing was minoring in dance, but it's another thing entirely to actually see him in action. He's amazing, Joonmyun thinks. This is clearly a familiar routine, and he hits each move with almost inhuman precision, lips pursed in concentration. His eyes are dark and fixed on his reflection as he moves, and after a minute or so he stops abruptly, frowning at something that Joonmyun must have missed.

“Whoa,” Joonmyun says, and Yixing starts, head jerking up to meet Joonmyun's gaze in the mirror. “You are really good. How long have you been dancing?”

“A few years,” Yixing replies. He tugs at the wide collar of his shirt and rolls his shoulders, stretching. “I kind of stumbled on a class as a freshman and I kind of fell in love with it.”

Joonmyun's eyes widen. He can't have been training for more than three years, how was that even possible? You'd think he practices night and day with how good he was. “You're so talented,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head.

Yixing favours him with a quick smile, tighter and less sincere than Joonmyun is used to seeing. “Thank you,” he says. “But not that talented. I missed that last turn. I just need to work on it a little bit more.” He's red-faced and breathless, his shirt sticking to his thin frame with sweat, he must have been at this for hours.

“Are you kidding?” Joonmyun says. “That was perfect.”

Yixing flinches a little at the word, and he shakes his head. “No,” he says, his voice strangely strained. “Not yet. Not quite. Just a little more.”

At a loss, Joonmyun bites the inside of his mouth. Yixing has always been one of the most welcoming members of EXO, always friendly and smiling, but right now, he's distinctly cold. He stares at his own reflection for so long that Joonmyun wonders if he's forgotten he's not alone, and then jumps into motion again. He starts the song over and spares one brief glance for Joonmyun. “Isn't Zitao waiting for you?” he asks. He doesn't wait for an answer before launching into his routine again.

It's pretty clear that the conversation is over. Joonmyun lingers in the door for a minute or two, but Yixing never looks up from his dancing.



♠



EXO House is strangely empty and quiet when Joonmyun lets himself in a week later, and it's a bit eery. He wonders, not for the first time, how they all stand to live here. He makes his way through the house, checking the rooms, and finally hears voices coming from the large kitchen in the back. “Joonmyun,” Yixing raises his head from where he's bent over the mixing bowl. “Nice to see you again.” His smile is pleasant and it's like their whole conversation the other day never happened. Next to him, Yifan leans against the counter, tall and silent. Somehow, his whole mysterious thing is ruined by the smear of flour across the jut of his nose.

Zitao is leaning over Yixing's shoulder, peering with interest at what's inside. His face falls when he looks up to see Joonmyun standing at the kitchen doorway. “No,” he says, and he throws himself between Joonmyun and whatever Yixing is making. “You're early! Get out.”

Tipping his head, Joonmyun crosses his arms. “You're the one that invited me,” he points out. And he had, as soon as he'd heard that Joonmyun had finished up his final exams for the semester. It surprises Joonmyun a little, seeing them in the kitchen. “Hey, don't you pay someone to do the cooking for you?”

“This is baking,” Yixing points out, peering at Joonmyun from around Zitao's outstretched arm. He gently nudges Zitao until he gets out of the way, wrinkling his nose.

“Did someone let you in?” Yifan asks, rubbing futilely at the flour on his face. He's mostly spreading it around further, unluckily for him. Yixing smiles at him serenely, reaching up with floury fingers to 'help' him, leaving white fingerprints across Yifan's jaw. If Yifan had made Joonmyun a bit uncomfortable at the beginning, the effect is certainly lessened now.

“Zitao gave me the code.” Joonmyun steps into the kitchen and glances down into Yixing's mixing bowl. He's not sure what they're making, but it smells good, at least.

It's warm in the kitchen, but that doesn't stop Zitao from swooping in and wrapping his arms around Joonmyun's middle. He has to practically fold himself in half to manage it, but he seems completely content to rest his chin on Joonmyun's shoulder, swaying them from side to side. “You ruined the surprise,” he complains. “We were going to make you cookies.”

“'We'?” Joonmyun asks, amused. Yixing has flour all over his hands, and even Yifan's a bit messy, but Zitao is spotless. He figures that the flurry of texts and selcas that Joonmyun had gotten on the ride over probably explain that.

“Yes, 'we'.” Zitao stretches out one long arm and dips his finger into the cookie batter. “Cookies taste so much better if you make them yourself. Made with love.”

Yixing aims a swift kick at Zitao's knees. “Whose love?” he asks. Zitao just licks the batter off his finger and grins.

“What is this, the third time you've been here this week?” Yifan asks from where he's bent over, peering at himself in the polish of the glass front of one of the cabinets and cleaning the flour off his face. When he straightens, Joonmyun can still see white in one of his eyebrows. He doesn't bother to tell him. “You're around a lot these days, aren't you?”

“Exams are over,” Joonmyun says slowly, and Zitao squeezes him a little. “And Zitao invited me.” And yeah, maybe he had been around a lot lately. Zitao might be a giant distraction, but every time Joonmyun had had a break between studying or between his last few weeks of class, he'd somehow found himself back at EXO House. The furniture may be uncomfortable, when he fit himself underneath Zitao's long arm, he found he didn't mind that much.

“You're here so often these days, you might as well be one of us.” There's something odd about Yifan's voice, but Joonmyun can't place it. Zitao can, though, and he lets out this little pleased noise and presses his face against Joonmyun's shoulder, and Joonmyun can feel his grin.

“I don't know,” Joonmyun says. “I think I'd need more expensive suits.”

Zitao straightens, reaching again for Yixing's bowl. Yixing bends out of his reach, almost impossibly fast and lithe. He's clearly had practice with this. His smile is deceptively sweet as he thwacks Zitao firmly across the knuckles with his wooden spoon. “The suits are important,” Yixing agrees as Zitao recoils, clutching his hand.

“So, why are you guys baking, anyway?” Joonmyun asks. He reaches for Zitao's injured hand, holding it between his own and rubbing his thumb across his knuckles. “I mean...”

Yixing laughs. “My mother owns a handful of patisseries in Europe,” he says, and he shrugs. “I picked up a few things here and there. It's a nice way to unwind.”

“Yifan doesn't like it,” Zitao murmurs, pitched low so only Joonmyun hears, his lips brushing against Joonmyun's ear. Behind Yixing's shoulder, Yifan is watching them, flour-streaked eyebrows creased. “When Yixing first moved in, Yifan gained like, thirty pounds. He was horrified.”

There's no way that Yifan could have heard him, across the room like that, but his eyes still get hard and dark and Zitao hooks his fingers in Joonmyun's beltloops and tugs him away. “Let's come back when Yixing's done,” he suggests, and as Joonmyun follows him out of the room, he catches a glimpse of Yixing casually stepping in front of Yifan before he can follow them. He's half Yifan's size and Yifan's mouth twists as he looks down at him, but he stops.

Zitao brings him up to his rooms and they settle down on his bed, side by side. “Am I outstaying my welcome?” Joonmyun ventures. “Yifan was – ”

“Leader has things on his mind,” Zitao says firmly. “They like you. Yixing likes you. Jongdae really likes you.” His eyes narrow a little bit, like he's a tiny bit jealous, and Joonmyun melts. Zitao tucks his head under Joonmyun's chin and traps his hand between his.

“Jongdae likes that I'll still treat him to dinner if he asks nicely enough,” Joonmyun says dryly, and Zitao laughs.

“Don't worry,” he says. “I promise, my friends all like you. You should feel comfortable here.”

His friends. Joonmyun exhales and squeezes Zitao's fingers tightly. What about Joonmyun's friends? “I do,” he says. “Even on those couches.”

Zitao groans loudly. “I hate those couches,” he declares, and then he reaches up to hook a hand around the back of Joonmyun's neck, pulling him down. “But I like you,” he murmurs, and Joonmyun smiles, closing the distance between them.



♛



“Mail for you,” Chanyeol calls, sticking his head into Joonmyun's bedroom. It's been a few days since the encounter in the EXO kitchen, and he hasn't been back since. Despite Zitao's assurances, Joonmyun would rather not end up getting on the bad side of some of the most powerful young men in the city. Better to give them a break. “Oooh, fancy. Who's this from?” Along with the handful of bills and junk mail Chanyeol holds out, there's a small black envelope.

“I don't know,” Joonmyun says slowly, turning it over in his hands. There's no return address, it's not even stamped. It must've been hand-delivered – the only thing written on the front is Joonmyun's name.

With Chanyeol hovering in the door, peering at him, Joonmyun carefully opens the letter up. The envelope is thick, feels like something expensive. There's only a single note in the envelope. It says Congratulations, Kim Joonmyun, you are cordially invited to EXO, followed by a date, a Thursday two weeks from now. “Holy shit,” Joonmyun says weakly, his hands dropping into his lap.

“What is it?” Chanyeol asks eagerly, but Joonmyun turns the card over automatically, forcing a smile.

“Uh, nothing,” he says. “Just a note from Zitao.”

“He mails you love notes now? That's kind of gross,” Chanyeol laughs and he ducks out of Joonmyun's room again. Joonmyun is left with the card in his lap, and a bit of a roaring in his ears.

He's been seeing Zitao for a few months now, and yeah, he's been spending a lot of time in EXO House, but he hadn't realized that it was some kind of trial period. That the reason that Zitao was so hellbent on Joonmyun getting along with his friends wasn't nerves, but because he wanted Joonmyun to get a passing grade. It seems to have paid off.

There's something printed on the back of the card, too. Nos Unum Sumus over a watermark of the hexagonal EXO symbol. He can't help but think that that sounds a little bit ominous.

It's tempting, though. Why wouldn't it be? He's gotten a taste of it, over the past few months. He can't say he really minds the way that people stare when they're out, the way that salespeople jump when Zitao waves a hand and bend over backwards to indulge his every whim. There's a lot of power associated with EXO's name, and now, Joonmyun's got a chance to share in it.

Most important, though, are the things that they could do for his career. Interviews would be a formality. If he wanted a job, he could have it. That glaring lack of experience on his resume would be meaningless, and it's oh so tempting.

Joonmyun stares down at the card in his lap, tapping his finger against the sharp corner. He focuses on the embossed date and the shiny letters. He has a lot to think about.



♠



The aquarium, Joonmyun decides, was a great idea. Zitao likes to press right up against the glass like a kid, eyes wide and lips parted as he watches the fish go by. It's like he's never done this before, and Joonmyun can't help the way it makes him smile.

He lets Zitao tug him from exhibit to exhibit, pointing out the rays and the manatees, and they eventually end up in the touch zone. They roll their sleeves up to their elbows and squeeze in next to a couple of school kids and Joonmyun hands Zitao a starfish, laughing at the way that his face scrunches up and he hunches his shoulders. “It's wiggling,” Zitao says, and he sounds halfway between horror and delight. “Take it back. Take it back!” If they weren't surrounded by kids and elbow deep in water, Joonmyun would grab him right now and kiss him. He settles for bumping his arm against Zitao's and grinning.

Gingerly, he takes the starfish back and holds it in his hands, looking down at it. It feels so odd, squirmy and slick. “Don't I take you to all the best places?”

“Yes,” Zitao agrees, immediately, and he leans over to press his face to Joonmyun's shoulder. “You do.”

“You must be easy to please,” he says. There's a kid next to him, he can't be more than seven or eight, and he's eyeing Joonmyun's starfish. Joonmyun bends down until he's on the boy's level and then he holds it out. The kid lights up when he gets the slimy little creature in his hands, eyes going all big and buggy. When he glances over at Zitao again, his eyes are soft and fond on Joonmyun.

They leave the kids to their fish and wipe their hands off on towels before moving on to the next exhibit. Joonmyun lets Zitao tangle their fingers together as he peers into the tanks. Today has been a nice distraction, but that doesn't mean that Joonmyun isn't still thinking about what he'd gotten in the mail.

The moment he'd tucked the card back into the black envelope, his phone had vibrated a few times in a row, almost presciently fast. They were all from Zitao. did you get it????, and are you excited??? It had made Joonmyun laugh a little. Still, it weighs on him. Squeezing Zitao's fingers a little, Joonmyun pauses next to a tank of colourful tropical fish. “Why did you join?” he asks quietly.

It takes Zitao a second to process what Joonmyun is asking about. “Oh, hmm.” He tips his head and rests a hand gently against the glass of the tank. “Lots of reasons, I guess.” He raises his eyebrows and grins that tiny little grin. “I used to really, really want to impress Yifan.”

Joonmyun's laugh is startled and a little choked. “Should I be worried?” he asks, but he's not, not really. He understands that impulse. Yifan inspires that kind of response in most people, he thinks.

He gets a little nudge in response. Zitao shakes his head. “They offered me independence,” he says finally. They meander their way through the room, and Joonmyun lets his heels scuff a little bit against the tile. “My parents are...” He frowns a little, tipping his head. “Overbearing. I got into university and they were still there, telling me which classes to pick, to drop my wushu and do something productive. EXO gave me breathing room.” He snorts. “It's hard for them to tell me I'm not making connections when I'm seen around town with Wu Yifan.”

“I know how that goes,” Joonmyun says with a bit of a laugh.

“But it wasn't just – ” Zitao's mouth tightens and his eyebrows furrow as he searches for the right words. “They're my brothers,” he says finally. “It wasn't easy to make friends when I first came over from China, but they understood. They welcomed me, gave me a place. And now – ” He shrugs and he smiles. “I can't imagine life without them.” He ducks his head a little. “I feel like together, we can do anything,” he says quietly, like it's a confession.

It's just the sort of sentimental thing that Joonmyun should expect by now, but it still makes him roll his eyes fondly and tighten his grip on Zitao's hand. “You're not so tough, are you?” he asks.

“Tough as nails,” Zitao protests. “You should show some respect.”

It's close to closing, and the big rooms are mostly empty. That's why Joonmyun only hesitates for a second before he pulls Zitao into an alcove between fish tanks and cups his face in his hands. “You always say these things,” Joonmyun says softly, and Zitao doesn't even wait for him to finish, just kisses him right then and there. Joonmyun lets him, his eyes sliding shut and his fingers stroking gently at the hinge of Zitao's jaw. “You think I should say yes,” he says when they part.

“Well, yeah,” Zitao says, a bit breathless. He rests his forehead against Joonmyun's. “Think of what you could do with EXO's influence.” His fingertips brush up against Joonmyun's ribs. “Is it that hard to decide?”

A group bustles into the room and Joonmyun pulls away from Zitao quickly, flushing. Zitao shoots him a quick look, grinning, and then they slip out the exit. They loiter in the gift shop for a while, eyeing the souvenirs. “Should we get one for duizhang?” Zitao asks, holding up a massive plush walrus, and Joonmyun has to press his hand to his mouth in order not to shout with laughter.

Zitao pays for the toy and Joonmyun leans back against a display as he waits, thoughtful. Is it really that hard? He's been thinking about that envelope for days, letting it weigh on him, and Zitao makes it sound like there's no real choice at all. EXO could give him a lot, but Joonmyun just doesn't know anymore.

“Yifan's going to be so pleased,” Zitao beams, holding the bag out for Joonmyun to carry. “Don't you think?”

“I think the walrus was a very thoughtful gift,” Joonmyun says.

Zitao grins, all teeth. “I thought so,” he agrees as they head out the door. “Just think, we could torture Yifan together, if you join.”

As nudges go, it's not really subtle, but it makes Joonmyun laugh. “So tempting,” he agrees. Zitao settles his arm over Joonmyun's shoulders and Joonmyun glances over at him. It's not Yifan that's tempting.



♛



Three days later, he gets a text from Yifan. we should talk. A bit ominous, but Joonmyun agrees. He hadn't even known that EXO was recruiting, much less that he was even in the running. He kind of wants someone else to talk it over with, too. He doesn't really have a lot of people. It's a secret society, after all, and he'd like to take that seriously.

He'd talked it over with Zitao, of course, but he'd known the type of response that he'd get before he'd even asked. He needs a bit more perspective before he makes such a big decision, and talking to the head of the society will help.

So Joonmyun cleans himself up, digs out his best collegiate sweater and ignores Chanyeol's funny look as he slips out the door to meet Yifan.

Zitao greets him at the door, and for the first time, he seems nervous. He leads Joonmyun upstairs, to a room he's never been in. It looks like a library, the walls lined with shelves filled with books, and Yifan sits in an armchair, back straight. He strikes an intimidating pose like that. “Please,” he says. “Sit down.”

“You don't have to be so formal,” Joonmyun says, but he settles in the chair across from Yifan. He can see Zitao hovering in the doorway, lips pressed tightly together.

“This is serious,” Yifan says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Yifan is a big guy, broad-shouldered with massive hands, and right now he's using that size. He looks every bit the secret society head right now, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows and a grave look on his face. “We don't extend an invitation like that lightly.”

Joonmyun nods. “I know, I know.”

“We've been considering you for a while,” Yifan says, and before Joonmyun has the chance to ask just how long, Yifan continues. “You come from a good family, you're charming and good-looking, and you're no pushover. You were always a good candidate.”

“Thank you?” Joonmyun says. He glances over at Zitao, but he's silent and still, his expression, for once, unreadable.

“The past couple of months have been kind of a probationary period for you,” Yifan continues, ignoring him. “It gave us a chance to get to know you on a personal level and decide whether or not you were EXO material.”

That hits Joonmyun hard. He supposes that he should be flattered by that, the fact that he had EXO's attention before he even knew he was on their radar, but mostly he keeps circling back to a single, nagging wonder. He can't look Zitao in the eye right now, he can't. “Was all of this, everything, was it manufactured?” he asks carefully, but his voice is less steady than he'd like. He's not certain what he'll do if everything in the last few months was some ploy to get him to join.

“No,” Zitao says immediately, too loudly. Joonmyun's head jerks up to meet his gaze and Zitao's eyes are wide, the back of his hand against his mouth.

“Zitao,” Yifan says in warning, and his voice is so sharp that even Joonmyun finds himself pressing his lips shut to swallow down any complaint. In the doorway, Zitao's jaw works and his eyes narrow, but he stays silent. “No. Zitao's interest in you is what precipitated this.”

Joonmyun leans back in the stiff chair and digs his teeth into his bottom lip. “I appreciate your consideration,” he says. “But you know what you're getting with me as a member. What am I getting?”

Yifan fixes him with a slightly unimpressed look. “I'm sure you've had a taste of it by now,” he says. “But there are some perks. You won't have to worry about your grades any longer which, I'm sure – ” He glances over at Zitao, a faintly amused smile on his face, “ – won't just be good for you.” Zitao turns a little bit red, hand still covering his mouth. “We can assure you that no matter what job you choose, whatever failings you may have, we will get you the career that you want.” This is a bit pointed, and Joonmyun wonders, suddenly, if Yifan knows about how he's been struggling. He shifts a little in his seat.

It's one thing to hear the rumours about EXO's power, but it's another thing entirely to be assured that they're true. Joonmyun swallows and feels a little bit like he's just gotten a glimpse of every door in the world, and they're all open to him.

“But,” Yifan continues. “Let me be clear – this isn't a decision to be made lightly. When you join EXO, you join for life. There is no cancelling your membership. We can do great things for you, but you may be called upon to do things for the good of the club. This is not optional. This is the trade off.” His tone makes it sound like the things that Joonmyun could be asked to do are sinister and possibly illegal, too. It makes him laugh, but somehow, Yifan isn't laughing. Neither is Zitao.

“This feels a little bit like marriage,” Joonmyun jokes, but it falls flat and the room remains silent.

“Nos unum sumus,” Zitao says quietly, defying Yifan's stare. “We are one. For life.”

“You don't have to decide immediately,” Yifan says. “I want you to think it through thoroughly. You're a good match for this club, and I think we could help you achieve big things.” Joonmyun wonders, for a second, if Yifan's given this speech to all of the rest of them, and if he realizes it sounds a bit silly. He clearly means every word of it, though, eyes grave and solemn.

Yifan is also dismissing him. Joonmyun stands again, and he inclines his head respectfully. “Thank you,” he says again. “I'll think on it.”

Zitao trails him out of the room. “So?” he asks.

“Let me think about it,” Joonmyun chides, but when Zitao eyes him warily, he reaches out for his hand. “Let's go get dinner.”

Zitao lights up at that, wrapping his long arm around Joonmyun's waist and talking about where they should go, and Joonmyun does his best not to dwell on what Yifan had said. His doubt is silly, and this, the way that Zitao bends to press a sloppy kiss to his temple and teases him about his bowtie, this is real. It is.



♠



“So,” Joonmyun says, handing Kyungsoo his coffee. “How's the internship going?” It's been a while since the two of them had a chance to catch up, and that's in no small part thanks to the way that Joonmyun had holed up on his own to think over Yifan's proposition. After a few days, he'd come to a conclusion – he needs a second opinion. And there's only one person he'd ask.

“Pretty good,” Kyungsoo says, and he smiles wryly. “Pretty soon, I'll be able to quit running out for coffee and actually touch the machines.” He takes a sip of his drink and he shrugs a shoulder. “It is good though, I'm learning a lot by watching. A lot of watching.”

Joonmyun holds the door open for him and the two of them step outside into the sunlight. “That's progress!” he says, and he nudges Kyungsoo with his elbow. “It sounds good, though.”

“Oh, it is,” Kyungsoo says. “I beat out like, three hundred people for this position. Once they give me a chance to prove how, this is going to open up a lot of doors.”

“I'm happy for you,” Joonmyun says, and he means it. Even if Kyungsoo's success sets off a twinge of jealousy in his gut, he's still Joonmyun's friend. He's glad that he's getting the chances he deserves. “You're going to knock them dead.”

Kyungsoo hums. “How about you?” he asks. He looks at Joonmyun sidelong. “I know that summer tutoring doesn't start for another week. What have you been up to?”

What has he been up to? “I've had some things to think about,” he says. “You remember Zitao.”

“You two are getting pretty serious,” Kyungsoo says. It's not a question. It's not wrong, either. He thinks about Zitao and his sharp, bright smile, and he can't help but turn a little pink.

“You know how he's a member of EXO?” Joonmyun asks.

Kyungsoo's eyes get wide. “You're kidding me.”

“Nope,” Joonmyun admits. He hasn't even said it out loud, but it still feels a little bit surreal. They want him. “I got my invite in the mail last week.”

“So, you're being called up to the big leagues, huh,” Kyungsoo says. He drinks from his coffee and slows his pace, dragging his heels. “What did you say?”

“I haven't decided yet,” Joonmyun says. “I got a sit down with the society head. He was very, very serious about it. Did you know these things are for life?”

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows over his cup. “Well, that sounds a bit ominous,” he says.

“A little,” Joonmyun admits. “I think it's all for the drama.” Kyungsoo nods, but he doesn't say anything. “I can get a lot out of this, though.” Every time he thinks about it, he feels like Yifan is dangling his dream in front of him, just out of reach. He wants it so badly, but he's going to need to make that leap to get it.

Kyungsoo is a small guy, and his face is disarmingly sweet for someone so shrewd and practical. “Like Zitao?” he asks pointedly.

Joonmyun grimaces. “No,” he protests. “Not like Zitao. Give me a little credit, come on.”

“Alright,” Kyungsoo holds up a hand. “Just asking.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “Do you need the EXO hand up, though? What can they give you that you can't get on your own?” Kyungsoo knows about Joonmyun's struggles to find an internship, but he doesn't know the sheer volume of it. He's applied to more than he could count, this year and last, and nothing has come out of it other than a handful of interviews and a week long stint at a firm that was so shady they didn't even have a sign out front. His luck is atrocious.

“A lot,” Joonmyun says, and his fingers tighten infinitesimally around his coffee cup. “They've got a lot of sway.”

Kyungsoo conveys what he thinks of that with a quick derisive jerk of his eyebrows. “And you've got none,” he says. Before Joonmyun can open his mouth to defend them, Kyungsoo is already shaking his head. “I just want you to be careful,” he says. “I hear things.”

“I know,” Joonmyun says. He squeezes Kyungsoo's shoulder for a second. “I appreciate the concern.”

His point made, Kyungsoo nods, but he slides away from the topic, starting in instead on how Jongin and Sehun are doing, working at a summer dance camp. Joonmyun does his best to listen, but he finds it hard to focus. Unease has wound its way into his gut, and Joonmyun doesn't know what to do.



♛



It's cold here, in this room by himself, and being alone with his nerves isn't helping a thing. Joonmyun twists his hands together in his lap and swallows hard, doing his very best to convince himself that this isn't a mistake.

Zitao had told him that the ceremony was mostly a formality, but that doesn't stop Joonmyun from being a little bit terrified. He's been in here alone for so long, looking at the heavy curtains and the thick carpets and shifting in the uncomfortable chair. He's sure it's for effect, Yifan seems to have such a fondness for traditions and the dramatic, but it's working. Kyungsoo's words echo in Joonmyun's head and he clenches his hands into fists in his lap.

He's dressed simply, black pants and a plain black shirt. He doesn't know the details of the ceremony yet, but Zitao had given him a few hints. Blood, he'd mentioned, and laughed when Joonmyun made a face, but just a drop. At the time, it had all sounded so cinematic, but now, alone in a little room, Joonmyun isn't so sure it's all a joke.

His head snaps up as the door swings open, and Zitao steps in. As the youngest, and the last member of EXO to join, it's his job to look after Joonmyun. He's dressed in long, black robes, a single ribbon of silver running around the hem and the hexagonal symbol of EXO embroidered on the breast. “Come,” Zitao says solemnly, holding out a hand to him, and Joonmyun can tell he's fighting back a smile. That, and the way that Zitao squeezes his hand briefly, eases the tight pull of Joonmyun's shoulders.

Joonmyun's never been in the basement of EXO House before, and that seems to be where Zitao is leading him. They head down a small stairwell, one that winds into the depths of basement. The house is almost preternaturally silent and the urge to grab for Zitao's hand is almost overwhelming. That, in itself, is a bit surprising to him. He swallows it back, though.

At the end of the stairwell is a set of double doors, and they swing open as they approach. Joonmyun follows Zitao into a surprisingly large room, empty except for a pedestal set into the floor at the centre, and the other five members of EXO. Yifan is instantly recognizable, standing tall behind the pedestal, shoulders squared. As they reach the centre of the room, Zitao gestures for Joonmyun to approach the pedestal, and then carefully takes his place in the circle.

It's like something out of a movie, and for one brief, hysterical moment, Joonmyun wants to laugh. There's a candle burning on the podium in the middle of their circle, and the flickering light throws ominous shadows across the faces of the guys he's gotten to know over the past few months. Even Zitao looks a bit sinister, his dark eyes almost completely hidden.

“Kim Joonmyun,” Yifan intones, and Joonmyun snaps to attention. “On behalf of EXO, I extend an invitation to you to join our ranks. Do you accept the rights and responsibilities that come with membership?”

There is no warmth in Yifan's face, nor in any of those around Joonmyun. He takes a deep breath and sticks his chin out. “I do,” he says, doing his best to sound more certain than he feels.

“Do you understand that this is not a decision you may renege on? We do not choose lightly.” Yifan's face is all sharp lines in daylight, but by candlelight, he's almost menacing.

“I do,” Joonmyun says again, and he presses his palms flat against his thighs, willing them to steady.

“Hold out your hand.” In front of him, Yifan holds one of his big hands steady over the flame and Joonmyun reaches out to him. Around them, the other members of EXO step forward and Yifan holds tightly on to Joonmyun's wrist. “Blood to blood.” He didn't even see the little blade that Yifan had until he's slicing open the pad of Joonmyun's finger, the pain startling a gasp out of him. Blood wells from the wound and Joonmyun stares at it, a bit transfixed. One by one, each of the other members echo Yifan's motion and words, their murmurs echoing in the room.

“Blood to blood,” Yifan says again, and as one, they all turn their hands over, the blood dripping into the fire. Yifan's grip on Joonmyun's wrist tightens and he is the last to add his to the flames. For a second, he could swear he can see red flash in Yifan's eyes and he shudders, a jolt of something sharp and hot rattling down his spine. “Welcome to EXO,” Yifan says quietly. He pushes something into Joonmyun's hand and when Joonmyun opens his fingers he finds a thick silver ring with a hexagonal symbol engraved in it.

Joonmyun jerks when he feels hands at his shoulders, but it's just Minseok, draping a set of robes on him. “Nos unum sumus,” he says, and the rest repeat the words. “Welcome, brother.”

One by one, they greet him, squeezing his hands and patting his back. Zitao is the last, and he bends his head so that his mouth is at Joonmyun's ear. “Welcome,” he whispers, and he's grinning like his face will break. Joonmyun's finger throbs, but Yifan nods at him, a faint smile on his lips.

There's no going back now. His new brothers sweep him back upstairs to celebrate. Zitao's hand rests against the small of his back, warm and firm, and even Lu Han seems to have warmed to him, slapping him hard on the shoulder. We are one, Joonmyun thinks, and his heart speeds up.



♠



There's something to be said about an EXO party from the other side. They hold the celebration of Joonmyun's joining at Minseok's parents' obscenely large house, and this time, there are no masks. Joonmyun doesn't have a borrowed suit this time, or even one recycled from a family wedding – Yifan took him to have a suit made, and this is tailored and fitted. If the way that Zitao can't keep his hands away from Joonmyun's waist is any sign, he looks good. He looks really good.

It's almost like something has physically changed. Joonmyun feels powerful as he moves through the room, and it's not just the eyes that linger on the ring on his finger. It's the way that he barely has to turn around before a server is darting in with a drink ready for him, it's how instead of being a wallflower, people greet him almost obsequiously, eager to get to know him. It's heady.

He's standing at the top of the stairs when Zitao sweeps up behind him, hands firm against his waist. “Hi,” he murmurs, trailing his nose up the back of Joonmyun's neck. “How are you enjoying your party?”

“It's unreal,” Joonmyun replies. One of Zitao's hands slides under the lapels of his jacket and Joonmyun smiles, leaning back against him. “People are watching,” he points out.

“They always are,” Zitao says, and he closes his teeth lightly on the back of Joonmyun's neck. He's right, though. It's not like the guests stare particularly, it's more that they always seem to be aware of them. The crush of people parts when they move through the house, and Joonmyun's empty glass is plucked from his hand before he can even wonder where to put it down. It's surreal. “Does it bother you?” Zitao asks, his voice soft.

“No,” Joonmyun says. It's not really a lie, he thinks. He's just not used to it. Zitao's fingers tighten on Joonmyun's waist and for a second, it's like everything falls silent except for the sound of Zitao's breathing, loud in Joonmyun's ear. When the noise returns, the din of of the party raising again, it's like they're invisible. No one is looking at them, not even out of the corner of their eyes. They might as well not even be there. “What did you – ?”

“Let's get out of here,” Zitao murmurs. He's doing his best to press himself flush against Joonmyun, folded in half and basically draping himself across Joonmyun's shoulders, and it makes Joonmyun's eyes slide shut, his mouth falling open.

“This party is for me,” Joonmyun says. “I can't just leave.”

“You can,” Zitao says, and his voice hits that precise note of pleading that makes Joonmyun melt into his touch. He never meant to, but Joonmyun finds himself turning around and stretching up to kiss Zitao.

It's not long before they find themselves in a guest bedroom. Joonmyun steadies Zitao with gentle hands as Zitao slides down on his cock, head thrown back as he struggles for air. He rides Joonmyun with a single-minded determination, hands gripping Joonmyun's thighs tightly for balance as he rolls his hips, all practiced ease. When Joonmyun sits up, sliding deeper into Zitao and dragging a slick gasp from his lips, he thinks that Zitao is beautiful. “Mine,” Zitao says, again and again, catching Joonmyun's mouth in a fevered kiss, sloppy and hard. “Mine.”

His hips stutter when he comes, fingers sinking into Joonmyun's shoulders as he shouts. “Yours,” Joonmyun pants, and he buries his face in Zitao's chest as he tips over the edge.

It takes Zitao several long minutes before he moves again, and even then it's not far. Joonmyun can feel the phantom press of Zitao's fingers even after he's shifted away, and he knows that it'll bruise. He likes it, and from the way that Zitao bends to run his tongue over them, he's not the only one.

“Should we go back?” Joonmyun asks, raking a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to fix it.

Zitao makes a face. “I guess,” he says, but he grabs Joonmyun's wrists and drags his hands away. “Leave it,” he says. “I want people to know.” His grin is possessive and feral and Joonmyun laughs. He can't help but lean in to kiss it away.



♛



Joonmyun would be a liar if he said that it's a struggle to adjust to life as a member of EXO. In the past month, he's gotten very used to the way that his thick silver ring opens every door or lets him jump every line. Joonmyun has always done his very best to stay pretty grounded, but he can't pretend that the envious looks aren't nice.

And those restaurants aren't exclusive without reason. Yifan treats them all to dinner one night, ostensibly in honour of Minseok's new position at an ad firm. The food is amazing, and when they're leaving, on the way out of the door, Jongdae disappears for a few minutes. When he emerges, he's holding a dark red jacket in his hands. He tosses it to Joonmyun and he catches it, blinking at Jongdae in confusion. “What's this?” he asks.

“Put it on,” Yifan says casually. He rests one big hand heavily on Joonmyun's shoulder. He glances at the rest of them, and though they're all doing their best to look unconcerned, Joonmyun's mouth is getting dry.

He tightens his fingers in the scratchy fabric of the jacket. “Why?” he asks, although he's fairly certain that he's not going to like the answer.

“You didn't get Minseok a gift for his celebration,” Yifan says. “You're going to get him a car.” Yifan's voice is pleasant, but Joonmyun hears the steel behind it and he goes cold.

He waits for a second, hoping a bit desperately that Minseok will say no, he doesn't need a gift, or maybe Zitao will step in. They don't. Minseok rubs the back of his neck and Zitao bites his lip, avoiding Joonmyun's eyes. The silence is oppressive and Joonmyun licks his lips. “I am?” he says weakly.

“You have a trustworthy face,” Yifan says. He tips his head, and for a second, his eyes flash impossibly black. “Are you questioning me already?” he asks quietly.

Joonmyun swallows and after a moment's hesitation, he pulls the jacket on. “No,” he says.

“Good.” Yifan's hand is back, weighing him down. Joonmyun flinches as his fingers dig into his shoulder. “Act quickly,” he says, and then he's gone, the rest of EXO slipping out of the restaurant after him.

Only Zitao lingers, the smile on his lips tight and forced. “I'll wait for you,” he says softly. “At the bus stop three blocks down. You know which one I mean?” Joonmyun manages a nod. “I'll see you there, then.”

When Zitao leaves, it's just Joonmyun, standing in a doorway with a borrowed coat on his shoulders and sweaty palms. He can't believe that Yifan could ask him to do something like this, like it's not even an issue. Stealing a car. He's never even stolen a pair of socks. He may have been initiated, but Joonmyun still feels like he's being tested.

He could back out, of course. A criminal record would effectively trample his dream to practice law, no matter how petty the crime. And Yifan can't be that scary, Joonmyun has seen the way that he lets Yixing push him around, and Baekhyun too. If he does that, though, Joonmyun knows that he'd be throwing everything away. He rubs a hand over his eyes. Anyone who can afford to get into this restaurant can easily afford to replace their car. Besides, it's not the car that Yifan wants, it's the act itself. He wants to be assured that he can rely on Joonmyun. He can abandon the car later, if he's lucky.

Is it so wrong, to want to make this work? To please Yifan and prove himself worthy of his spot in EXO? Joonmyun takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. It's just a joyride. What's the harm?

Joonmyun pushes a broad, vacant smile onto his face and he carefully makes his way to the front of the restaurant. He watches as a valet takes a patron's car. It's nothing, he tells himself. As long as he pretends he knows what he's doing, he can totally pull this off.

The next car drives up, and the other valet is distracted, speaking with a manager. He needs to go now. He rushes over and draws himself up as tall as he can get. “Will you be needing valet service tonight?” he asks breathlessly. The man doesn't even look at him, just waves a hand backwards at his car and sweeps past, his companion's heels clicking against the tiled entrance way.

Joonmyun wastes no time. He darts around the car and slides in behind the seat. The owner of this car is a man of taste. It's new, it's so new it smells new, and the leather creaks under his weight. Joonmyun is certain he's never been in control of this much money in his life. There are goosebumps springing up across the back of his neck and he takes a shaky breath. It's so surreal. He turns the key in the ignition, settles his hands on the wheel, and he pulls out.

The silence in the car is deafening, and all Joonmyun hears is the rattle of his own breath in his lungs and the pounding of his heart. He's never felt a rush like this. He makes it a block from the restaurant, two, and he realizes he's smiling, like he can't help it. He's done it. He's done it.

He's laughing when he screeches to a halt in front of the bus stop, and Zitao hauls the door open, jumping in. Joonmyun is ready to stomp on the gas but Zitao lunges at him, catching his face in both of his hands and kissing him until they're both breathless and giddy. “You're amazing,” Zitao declares, and he slams the car door shut as they race away.

Joonmyun abandons the car halfway across town, but not until after Zitao crawls into his lap and licks his way into Joonmyun's mouth. It's only fair, Joonmyun thinks. Someone has to christen the new car.



♠



Joonmyun's never really been the type to go out and party. It's not any particular anxiety about crowds or anything like that, it's just not really his scene. It doesn't help that he's a terrible dancer, too.

Still, there's something different about it, he thinks, when he's with EXO. It's only been a month since initiation, a week or two since Yifan had asked him to swipe the car, and now he feels like all the pieces have clicked into place. When Yixing drags him out on the dance floor, Lu Han joins them, and the smiles he throws Joonmyun's way are real and bright. It's nice enough that Joonmyun doesn't even mind that the way that Lu Han laughs, ugly and genuine, is because of his dancing.

He makes his way off the dance floor to find Zitao and Yifan standing at the bar. “Look at you,” Zitao says fondly, reeling him in with a hand on his waist.

“You're giving our dance machine a run for his money,” Yifan says dryly.

Joonmyun glances out to where Lu Han and Yixing are still dancing, and Jongdae has joined them. He's possibly the only person on the planet more rhythmically challenged than Joonmyun is. At least he seems to be having fun. “I think he's still got his crown,” he laughs.

He turns back to the bar and blinks when the bartender sets a drink down right in front of him. “Compliments of your new friend,” she says, and she gestures down to the end of the bar to where a guy sits. He's cute, in a boy-next-door kind of way, with a sweet smile, but he's got nothing on Zitao. He waves at Joonmyun, a bit hesitant. This isn't the first time that Joonmyun's been in this situation, and he can feel Zitao's eyes on him. Normally he would just refuse the drink. It seems unfair to give someone false hope. This time, though... he waves back, and even throws in a wink.

Zitao watches him steadily. “What?” Joonmyun asks. He shrugs. “A free drink is a free drink.” Yifan ducks his head and snorts and Zitao relaxes, hooking his fingers into Joonmyun's beltloops. When Joonmyun looks back at the kid, he's smiling into his drink, and he can see him flush from here. It sends this icy little rush down Joonmyun's spine, and he smirks. He's getting used to having this power.

He forgets about the guy for the rest of the night, instead getting caught up in helping talk Yifan into dancing. Still, he finds Joonmyun again as they're heading out the door to another club, settling a gentle hand on Joonmyun's elbow and asking for a minute. Joonmyun gives the kid a very slow, deliberate once-over, and then snorts, pulling his arm out of his grasp. The guy's face falls and something about that thrills Joonmyun, makes him grin as he speeds up to catch up with Zitao and laces their fingers together.

They're standing at the curb, waiting for their cars, when Lu Han wraps an arm around Joonmyun's shoulders. “You know,” he says. “I like the new you.” He pats the back of Joonmyun's neck and then Yixing pulls him away, shoving him into the waiting car.

The new you. Joonmyun blinks at that, stunned. “Hey, c'mon,” Zitao murmurs, and he brackets Joonmyun's hips with his hands, nudging him towards their car. “Are you okay?”

Joonmyun closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head briskly, like he's trying to knock something loose. “I'm fine,” he says. “A-okay.”



♛



Joonmyun finds dinner with his parents much easier to handle when they aren't too busy being concerned about his future to hold a decent conversation. They're so pleased with his new crowd of friends that for the first time in a while, when he leaves them at the restaurant, he's not upset and hurt. It's a nice change.

The day is nice, so Joonmyun takes his time getting home. He doesn't have any plans for the evening, and he wanders around, window-shopping and enjoying the day. He's about ready to head home when a hand closes around his elbow and stops him dead. “Kim Joonmyun?” the man asks. He's an older man, and well-dressed with a briefcase in hand. It takes Joonmyun a few seconds to place him. The night of his initiation celebration is a bit of a blur, but he vaguely remembers being introduced to a few lawyers at the beginning of the night. “I thought that was you.”

“Yang Jaesung,” Joonmyun says, and he bows deeply. “It's nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” the man says, smiling. “And what a fortuitous meeting,” he adds. “Yifan tells me you study law, is that correct?”

“Yes?” Joonmyun replies, a bit hesitant. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but if this meeting was lucky? That does sound like a good thing.

“Excellent.” Jaesung takes a few seconds to rummage in his pocket, eventually coming up with his wallet. He hands Joonmyun a card. “If you're looking for an internship, one of ours was just called back to Busan because of some family troubles. Yifan tells me you're a bright young man, I look forward to your call.”

They exchange pleasantries for a few more minutes, and then Jaesung bids him goodbye. Joonmyun finds himself standing in the middle of the sidewalk, card clutched in his hand, mind running a million miles an hour. When Yifan had told him that EXO would open doors for him, he'd never imagined it would be this fast. This is it. Everything he's worked so hard for, and now it's right here. He almost feels like laughing out loud.

He tucks the card back into his pocket and grins to himself. He can't wait to tell Zitao.



♠



A few weeks later, Joonmyun is gathering the last of his things up to bring to his new room in EXO when he hears a knock at the door. He opens the door to find Kyungsoo standing there, hands tucked in his pockets. “Oh, wow, hey,” Joonmyun says, and he holds open the door and steps aside. “Come on in.”

Kyungsoo trails after him as he heads back into his room to finish packing things up. “You're lucky you caught me,” he says, tucking a book into a box. “I'm not gonna be here for too much longer.”

“So Chanyeol told me,” Kyungsoo says, a bit sharply, and Joonmyun pauses. He deserves that, he supposes. He's gotten a little caught up in things, and he doesn't remember the last time he really talked to Kyungsoo. Or Sehun, or anyone else for that matter. That realization surprises him. “You're moving into EXO House, huh.”

It's not really a question. Joonmyun sits down on his bed, fingers curled around a hardcover book. “Yeah,” he says. “It's just easier, you know?”

Kyungsoo snorts a little, but he nods. “I bet,” he says. He crosses his arms and leans back against Joonmyun's desk.

When he doesn't say anything, Joonmyun sighs. “It's been a while, huh?”

“I haven't seen you in over a month,” Kyungsoo says. “You must be pretty busy with things over there.” He shifts his weight a little, his eyes fixed on Joonmyun. “Especially since you begged out of doing summer tutoring this year.”

He should've known that Baekhyun would rat him out. “I've done it every summer, I just thought that maybe this year, I'd take a break for myself.” He smiles. “I have enough extracurriculars on my record, don't you think?”

“I guess you must,” Kyungsoo agrees. Joonmyun can tell by the set of his jaw that Kyungsoo is clenching his teeth, and the guilt hits him hard. He balls up his hands against his thighs.

“I'm sorry,” Joonmyun says, and the hard expression on Kyungsoo's face softens, at least a little. “I've been kind of a crappy friend lately. I'm sorry I got so caught up with things, everything is so...new.”

It's not much of an excuse, but Kyungsoo nods again anyway. “Shiny and new and handsome,” he says. “I get it.” He still doesn't look pleased, though, and Joonmyun doesn't blame him.

He rubs at the back of his head. “Look, I – ”

“You disappeared,” Kyungsoo says. Joonmyun can see Kyungsoo's throat work and he swallows down his protests. “You're talking about some ominous initiation and you flat out vanished, except for a handful of texts. You practically moved out, Chanyeol didn't even know what happened to you.” He shakes his head. “It was like some fucking cult just swallowed you up.”

“They're not a cult,” Joonmyun says, and Kyungsoo's mouth twists. “I promise. It's just – it's easy, to get swept up in things with them.”

“With Zitao?” Kyungsoo asks, and all Joonmyun can do is shrug and nod. Why come home to his empty apartment when he can wake up next to Zitao's sleepy smile? They're both silent for a long minute, and then Kyungsoo rubs a hand down his arm. “You're crazy about him, aren't you?”

“Head over heels,” Joonmyun admits, smiling weakly.

The tension stretches between them, and it's awkward and uncomfortable and damn near unbearable, but Kyungsoo takes pity on him. “Did he do that?” he asks, gesturing at Joonmyun's neck, and Joonmyun instinctively slaps his hand over the mark he knows is there. “You're turning red,” Kyungsoo says, smiling crookedly.

Joonmyun's ears are hot. “I am not,” he protests.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, and he raises an eyebrow.

Joonmyun waves him off, trying to will away his blush. “I owe you,” he says after a few seconds. “Big time.”

“You really do,” Kyungsoo agrees seriously.

Joonmyun jerks back into motion, puts the book in his lap in one of the boxes. “Coffee tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Coffee for the rest of your life, more like,” Kyungsoo says dryly, pointing a finger at Joonmyun. “Don't think I'm going to let you forget, either.”

“I won't,” Joonmyun says, sincerely enough that it makes Kyungsoo laugh. He really does mean it, though. Just because he's joined EXO doesn't mean he can't still have other friends too. Joonmyun draws an x over his heart. “Promise.”

“Good.”

Joonmyun allows a beat to pass, then holds up a couple of books. “Does this mean you'll help me pack?” he asks.

The look that Kyungsoo gives him is pure derision. “No,” he says. “Don't you have someone you can pay to do that?” When Joonmyun makes a face, Kyungsoo levers himself up again and comes to sit next to him. “But I'll watch.”

As Joonmyun folds a box shut, Kyungsoo nudges him in the side and smiles at him a little, and he thinks maybe they'll be okay.



♛



If someone had invited Joonmyun to this soiree a few months ago, he would have been even more out of place than at EXO's masquerade. Yifan's parents are throwing a soiree, some big charity thing where being seen is more important than the cause that everyone is supposedly supports, and he's surrounded by wealthy business people and their spouses, all in fancy dress.

He's also got Zitao and the rest of the society, though. “I thought we were wearing blue tonight?” Yifan asks, reaching out to tug at Joonmyun's bowtie. Unlike the rest of EXO, his is a dark, emerald green, matching the necktie that Zitao wears. “Did you miss the call?”

“No,” Zitao says serenely, coming up behind Joonmyun and pushing Yifan's hand away. “I wanted us to match.”

“I think you're missing the point,” Yifan frowns, and Yixing pats his elbow, looking amused.

“Easy, duizhang,” Jongdae says, shaking his head. “It's just a tie. I'm sure that people can figure out who we are easily enough.” Looking around for a second, his eyes alight on a nearby waiter. “Ugh, this guy again? I thought your father didn't tolerate incompetence, Yifan.” He raises a hand and snaps imperiously, barely even making eye contact with the man. “Champagne,” he says, and he gestures around the group. “For all of us. Quickly, please, before I die of boredom. I know you're fond of taking your time.”

The man doesn't even get a chance to respond. As soon as Jongdae finishes speaking, he waves the waiter away again. “Are we the only people in the room who aren't gainfully employed?” he asks, turning back to them.

Minseok knocks his elbow against Jongdae's ribs. “Excuse me,” he says, all mock-affront.

“You haven't started yet,” Jongdae says, wiggling his hand at Minseok. “Doesn't count.”

The two of them are still squabbling good-naturedly when the waiter returns with his tray of drinks. “Oh, good,” Jongdae sighs, not looking at the man. “You didn't take a year, it's a miracle. Hallelujah.” The drinks are handed out, and Jongdae doesn't let the waiter linger. “Thanks, we're done,” he says, fixing the man with a pointed stare.

The waiter clenches his teeth and tucks his tray under his arm. “You fucking rich kids,” he spits. “You think you can treat the rest of us like dirt.” If he's expecting to intimidate Jongdae, it's not working. Jongdae raises one of his eyebrows, crossing his arms and squaring his shoulders. Behind him, Yifan steps up, eyes narrowed, and Joonmyun could swear that the air turns cold. “I'm just doing my job,” the man says, and Joonmyun wonders how old he is. He looks young. “What gives you the right to speak to me like that? You rich fuck assholes disgust me.”

“Hey,” Joonmyun says. He holds up a hand. “C'mon. Relax.”

“Relax?” the waiter snaps. He grabs a handful of Jongdae's shirt and shakes him. “This jerk is the worst of them all. Always mouthy, and he never even looks at me. Like I'm a piece of the furniture.”

Jongdae slaps the man's hand down, sneering. “You've dirtied my nice shirt,” he says.

The man lets out a strangled noise. “I quit,” he says, and he drops his tray. It rattles noisily against the stone tile as he turns on his heel and pushes through the crowd to leave.

Yifan watches him go. “Joonmyun,” he says, and Joonmyun finds himself pivoting to face Yifan almost without his own volition. “I think that waiter needs to go for a little trip, don't you?” Yifan's eyes are almost entirely black. Joonmyun can't be imagining it.

“I'm sorry, what?” he asks, bewildered. The waiter is standing at the top of one of the main staircases, a phone pressed to his ear. Calling for a ride, Joonmyun assumes.

“A trip,” Jongdae says disdainfully. “A fall.” He gestures at the man and the staircase and Joonmyun goes cold.

“I don't understand,” Joonmyun protests, but he does, he understands far too well. Yifan's dark eyes are fixed on Joonmyun and his knees feel weak. They can't be asking him to do this. There's no way.

Yifan doesn't buy it. “No one speaks to one of ours like that,” he says, quietly, deadly. “We can't let this slide.”

“He's going to leave,” Lu Han says, and Joonmyun turns his gaze on him, eyes wide. “Better move quickly.” They're serious about this.

If Joonmyun had been scared when they'd asked him to steal the car, he's terrified now. “You've got to be joking,” he says, and Yifan narrows his eyes.

“Is that a no?” he asks, and Joonmyun can't bear the weight of his eyes anymore. “Are you telling me no?”

Joonmyun glances up at Zitao. He pleads with Joonmyun with his eyes, and he looks as scared as Joonmyun feels. “You're not, right?” he says, and something crumples in Joonmyun's chest. Zitao is afraid of Joonmyun backing out on EXO, not of what Yifan is asking him to do.

“I can't – ” he begins, and his voices dies in his throat. “I can't do this,” he says. He risks looking up at Yifan. “Please don't ask me to.”

“He's leaving,” Jongdae reminds them all, but Yifan doesn't move. He's staring at Joonmyun, and Joonmyun can almost physically feel the weight pressing down against his shoulders. It makes him crumple in on himself, shoulders hunching up. Zitao has shifted away, he's not even touching him anymore.

“One more chance,” Yifan says softly.

Joonmyun looks at the waiter, pocketing his phone and making moves to leave. How can Joonmyun hurt him? Jongdae had been a jerk, and the man had called him on it. Does that mean he deserves to fall down a flight of stairs? How can they ask him to do this? Weren't they friends? “I can't,” Joonmyun whispers again. “I just – I can't.”

Yifan regards him for one long second, and he shakes his head. “You will regret this, Kim Joonmyun,” he says. His fury and disdain is palpable and Joonmyun thinks he might choke on it. “I can promise you that.” He turns away, heads back into the crush of the party. One by one, they all turn their backs, abandoning him to the strangers of the party, until only Zitao is left.

“Zitao,” Joonmyun says, but Zitao won't look at him. He bites his lip and shakes his head and then finally, he slips away too.

He's lucky he doesn't spill his champagne with how his hand is shaking. Joonmyun has never felt so alone.



♠



He arrives home after all the rest of EXO does, but the house is so, so silent. He's intending to go straight back to his room, but without even noticing, he finds himself making his way to the library where he and Yifan had spoken before his initiation.

He's there again, sitting in the same chair. His tie hangs loose around his neck and he has the first few buttons of his shirt undone. He doesn't say anything to Joonmyun at first, just gestures at the other chair. Joonmyun doesn't think he could disobey if he tried.

“What part of 'not optional' didn't you understand?” Yifan asks him quietly. Joonmyun is used to seeing Yifan completely made up, always impeccably dressed. Even in the mornings, no matter how early, when Joonmyun sees him, he's always entirely dressed, his hair done. Now though, this is something different. His hair is mussed, his shirt rumpled, and his eyes are so, so dark. There's something sinister about it.

“I know,” Joonmyun says, ducking his head. He swallows. “It's just – hurting someone?”

“And stealing a car is a crime that hurts no one?” Yifan raises one thick eyebrow. “What made that okay but not this?”

Joonmyun laughs, stunned. “You asked me to throw someone down a flight of stairs.”

“No,” Yifan says. “I told you to.” He tips his head. “And you refused. Do you understand the gravity of this?” He pushes on before Joonmyun can get a word in. “After all, you just got your internship. It would be a shame to lose it so soon.”

That sends ice down Joonmyun's spine. He's only told Zitao about the offer. There is no way that Yifan should know about this, unless Zitao spilled or – or Yifan organized it. “What are you saying?”

Yifan rolls his eyes. “Enough playing dumb,” he says coldly. “You know exactly what I'm saying.” He leans back in his chair and regards Joonmyun. “This is your one strike,” he says. “I wouldn't even be offering a second chance, but I am a generous man, and Zitao asked me to go easy on you.”

Somewhere, in the rush of panic in his head, Joonmyun finds the space to wonder how Yifan manages to sound simultaneously a bit ridiculous but entirely scary. “Thank you,” Joonmyun says, although part of him resents having to say it. Thanking Yifan for giving him a second chance after he refuses to send a stranger flying down a set of stairs? His life has become incredibly surreal.

Yifan nods. “Remember, Joonmyun,” he says, and in the dim light of the room, his teeth look impossibly sharp. “Nos unum sumus. EXO owns you.” At his words, Joonmyun feels a sharp jolt in his chest, like Yifan has reached in and tugged.

Standing abruptly, Yifan leaves Joonmyun to think this over. He's tired, but Joonmyun sits in that stiff chair until the sky starts to lighten, and he does his best not to think about what he's done.



♛



When Joonmyun emerges from his bedroom that afternoon, after a few fitful hours of sleep, he has to admit it – he admires the way that EXO can make themselves completely scarce. The size of the house can't hurt, of course, but it all just adds up to a meal alone in the large and empty kitchen.

He comes back up to his room and finds Zitao sitting on his bed. Zitao has never had any qualms about invading Joonmyun's space and making it his own, but right now he's all folded in on himself. He's got his knees tucked together and his hands pressed against them, face tight and worried. “Hey,” Joonmyun ventures.

“You can't do that,” Zitao says softly, immediately. “You can't just do that.” Joonmyun closes the door behind him and steps forward, and Zitao grabs his hand tightly. “Please.”

Joonmyun sighs. He's exhausted, and he knows he looks a mess right now, and Zitao looks like he's gotten just as little sleep as he has. “Zitao – ”

“No,” Zitao says. “You don't get it.” He bites his lip. “Didn't you feel it, during initiation? Why do you think we used blood?”

Joonmyun thinks of the way that Yifan had gripped his wrist and the electricty that had run down his spine as his blood hit the fire, and he swallows. “Wasn't it all for the drama?”

Zitao shakes his head. “We're not – money can't buy everything, Joonmyun. You know that there's no way that Yixing could have picked up dancing in two years. You've heard the way Jongdae sings, do you really believe he started vocal training last year?” He squeezes his fingers around Joonmyun's arm, tightly enough that it almost hurts.

“He's very talented,” Joonmyun says slowly.

Zitao closes his eyes, and when he looks up at Joonmyun again, his pupils are bright red. “It wasn't just for show,” he says, and Joonmyun stumbles back, out of his grip. “There are prices to be paid for the things that you want,” he says quietly, and Joonmyun lets out a horrified noise. It's not just lack of sleep, Zitao looks almost monstrous. His teeth are sharp, his eyes set deep in his face, and Joonmyun thinks his heart might hammer out of his chest. It only lasts for a second and then he's just sleepy Zitao again, soft eyes and an uncertain set to his mouth.

“What are you?” Joonmyun asks. Zitao reaches for him and Joonmyun holds himself out of his reach.

“I'm Zitao,” he says, and he sounds so small and hurt. Joonmyun crosses his arms tightly across his chest and tucks his hands under his arms, watching Zitao. “I'm still Zitao. It's just – ”

“Just what?” Joonmyun asks roughly. This feels like a dream, one of those ones that's too real, leaves you sweating and shaking when you jerk awake.

Zitao folds his legs up under himself. “They've been doing it for years,” he says. “Yifan's uncle gave him the book and it told him everything he had to do.” He toys with the hem of his pants, eyes fixed firmly on his hands. “All you have to do is give a little blood, and you can have everything.” He pauses, like he wants to continue, and then bites his lip.

“Zitao,” Joonmyun says. “What aren't you telling me?” He can feel the bite of his nails in his own arms, dread weighing heavy in his gut.

“It's not selling your soul,” Zitao says. “Not really.” His head hangs so low that Joonmyun can't even see his face through his bangs. “Just a little piece, and you can have your wish.” Joonmyun catches a flash of a tight, bitter smile on Zitao's lips. “The problem is, it's hard to stop wishing.”

Joonmyun backs up until his shoulders hit the door, and then he slides to the floor. His soul. His soul. It's so absurd he almost wants to laugh, but all that emerges from his throat is a choked off noise. What has he signed himself up for? His head snaps up and he stares at Zitao, the horror sinking in. Why didn't Zitao tell him? He fumbles with his words for a second, trying to figure out what he's trying to say, but in the end, he just shakes his head.

“You can't do that again,” Zitao says. “You're one of us now. You can't.” He sees the way that Joonmyun is staring at him, and he tucks his chin into his chest. “I just wanted you to have what you want,” Zitao murmurs. “You work so hard. I wanted to give it to you.”

Joonmyun scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Zitao has been a member for a year. How much of his soul has been chipped away? He thinks of Yifan and his cruelty and he wonders, suddenly, how much of Yifan is even left behind his hard eyes. “I think I'm going to go crash at Chanyeol's,” he says. He's unsteady when he climbs to his feet and starts gathering a few things to take with him.

“When will you be back?” Zitao asks carefully.

Joonmyun keeps his back to Zitao when he speaks. “I don't know,” he says. He folds his clothes with more force than it's ever needed, hands nearly trembling.

He jerks when he feels Zitao's hands on his hips, feather-light and hesitant. “I'm sorry,” Zitao says, and he presses his lips to the back of Joonmyun's neck for a second. It's funny, how torn Joonmyun can be with one little gesture. He's a hairsbreadth away from leaning into Zitao's touch and letting all of this go, but he knows he can't. “Leaving the house doesn't mean you leave EXO,” Zitao adds, and that pushes Joonmyun into motion.

He pulls away from Zitao and zips up his bag. “I have to go,” he says. He doesn't look at him as he leaves, he can't. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he makes his way through the big, empty house one last time, and once he's out at the curb he makes a call. “Hey, Chanyeol? Are you busy?”

His throat is tight as he hails a cab, and he stares out the window the whole drive, not seeing a thing. This is one dream he needs to wake up from.



♠



Joonmyun is shaken from his stupor by the slam of Chanyeol's front door. Before he gets a chance to turn around, there's a paper cup being held under his nose. “Tea,” Kyungsoo says briskly. “I've got dinner, too, but I think that can wait.”

His shoulders complain as he sits up. After a night like he's had, even napping on the couch leaves him stiff and sore. “Thanks,” he says, and Kyungsoo nods, taking a seat next to him. Chanyeol hovers behind him, obviously curious but thankfully, not enough to pry. He leans over the back of the couch, resting his long arms on either side of Kyungsoo's head and hooking his chin on his shoulder.

Kyungsoo gently nudges him away. “How are you feeling?” he asks. It takes Chanyeol a few seconds to get the hint, even with Kyungsoo pushing insistently at his face, but he straightens eventually and disappears into his room. He spares one last concerned look at Joonmyun, but Joonmyun waves him off.

“I've been better,” Joonmyun admits. He rolls his shoulders and winces, trying to work out the knots with one hand. “It's been a long day.”

“Looks like it,” Kyungsoo agrees. “Do you want to talk about it?” He snorts. “Can you?”

Joonmyun shoots him a look, and there must be something in it that tells Kyungsoo how serious it is, because the mirth slides right off his face. “It's complicated,” Joonmyun says, and he clings to his tea like it's a lifeline. He likes the warmth of it in his hands.

“That's alright,” Kyungsoo says. “I'm an electrical engineer. Complicated is kind of what I do.” His tone is light and he smiles a little, reassuringly, and Joonmyun is flooded with affection for him. Even after all of this, Kyungsoo is still here. Joonmyun isn't really sure that he deserves that.

Joonmyun runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. Where to start? Quietly, so that Chanyeol doesn't overhear, Joonmyun tells Kyungsoo what's happened to him since EXO turned their eyes on him. He leaves out a few things, like what Zitao had told him earlier, and the way he'd seen Yifan's eyes darken, his teeth get sharp. He's not sure that Kyungsoo would even believe him, anyway.

Kyungsoo is silent for a long time after Joonmyun is done, looking thoughtful. “You stole a car,” he says finally.

“They got it back,” Joonmyun says, exasperated, because they had, he'd made sure of it. And that's not the point. There's so much more going on right now.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, holding up a hand. “They got it back.” It startles Joonmyun to realize that Kyungsoo looks a bit sad. “But they still talked you into it.”

Joonmyun thinks carefully before he speaks. “They...have something on me. Something very, very important.” His soul. Joonmyun doesn't want to believe it, but it's hard not to, when the proof is right there in front of you and when you feel it, too. He thinks about Lu Han, hand heavy on his shoulder, talking about 'the new Joonmyun', and he nearly crumples his coffee cup in his hands. “They got me an internship, too.”

“Is it worth it?” Kyungsoo asks. He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

Joonmyun forces a smile. “See?” he says. “I promised you would be the first one to get to say I told you so.”

“Joonmyun.” Kyungsoo has never been big on physical affection, so it startles Joonmyun when he rests a hand on Joonmyun's shoulder. “That can wait for when you don't look like something that just crawled out from under my couch.”

The laugh that Joonmyun lets out is genuine, if a little bit strangled. “I don't know what to do,” he says, and his hurt hits him like a freight train. It's scary as hell, but he can't help thinking of Zitao and how he didn't even think twice about letting Joonmyun go into EXO blind. Was he that far gone?

“You have to weigh it,” Kyungsoo says. “I know they've got something...big, important, whatever, but the things they're asking you to do...” He shakes his head and rubs his hand down Joonmyun's arm. “Well.”

Joonmyun gets it. He knows what Kyungsoo is saying. He just doesn't think it's that easy, really. How do you walk away from something like EXO when you have literally signed away your soul? He stares down at his hands and exhales in one big gust. He knows that if he goes back, he will be asked to do things he doesn't want to do, and there is no way to escape that.

Standing up, Kyungsoo gives his shoulder a squeeze and then heads into the kitchen to warm up the dinner he'd brought over, and Joonmyun buries his face in his hands. “Nos unum sumus,” he murmurs. “For life.” It feels even heavier now.



♛



Camping out on Chanyeol's couch gives Joonmyun a lot of time to think. He spends his time in his old haunts, wandering around a half-empty campus and drinking too much coffee. He's never been particularly anonymous on campus, he's always done his best to involve himself in things, but it's so nice to be back in a space where he knows the people who know him.

Running away won't solve anything, he knows it. He's gotten a half dozen texts from Zitao, just like he used to, pictures of a puppy he saw on the street and idle complaints about how bored he is, eating alone. They make Joonmyun's heart clench, make him wonder if Zitao has any idea how to live without his phone in his hand. There's silence on the part of the rest of the members, and Joonmyun can read it easily enough. They don't need him. They don't need an initiate who won't play by the rules.

He's been gone from EXO House for three days when he grabs a coffee and finds himself a bench at a park a few blocks from Chanyeol's place. Kyungsoo has his internship and Chanyeol's been working at a record store, so Joonmyun has his days to himself. It gives him time to think, at least.

Too much time. No matter how many times Joonmyun turns it over in his head, he just keeps coming back to the same impasse. He wants out, that much is certain. He just doesn't see how. He twists his thick silver ring between his fingers as he thinks, the metal warm against his skin. He'd known that joining EXO was for life back when he'd started, and that was before he'd known that he'd be handing over his soul, just a little bit at a time. The thought still made his mouth dry and his skin crawl and sometimes he thinks he can physically feel it, this hollow little ache behind his ribs. How much? How much has he lost?

How much has Zitao lost, for that matter? Sometimes, he thinks that that hurts the worst. After Yifan had told him that they'd had their eye on him, he'd had his doubts, but now, now it's worse. He wants to believe so badly that what he and Zitao have is real, but it's so hard to know. Not when Zitao's soul has been chipped away and Yifan has been behind so many things lately. Joonmyun thinks about Zitao, his eyes soft and hurt, and it's impossible to know what's truth and what's a ploy.

That's part of why he wants to leave. It's so hard to even think about Zitao now, how can he return to EXO, return to the uncertainty and the tension? Especially when he knows that it's only a matter of time before Yifan asks him to do something else, something that he can't do. This is not what he wants.

But giving up EXO means giving up so much. His internship, for one, there's no doubt about that. He doesn't mind so much losing the little perks, he can do without those fancy restaurants and cutting the line if it means that no more eyes are on him. He'd have to give up the friendship he's built with all the members of the society, and that hurts a bit. He thinks about Jongdae and Yixing, how friendly they've always been to him, and that one twinges.

The worst is, of course, Zitao. For a second, he fantasizes about taking Zitao with him. Could he even do that? There has to be some Zitao left in there. There's no reason he would've begged Yifan to give him another chance otherwise, no reason he would've told Joonmyun the whole story. There's hope, there's got to be.

He has to try. There is so much that Joonmyun stands to lose, but isn't it worse, staying with EXO? He would have to compromise everything he stands for and watch as they stole his soul in little, bite-sized chunks. He can't do that. He won't.

A vibration in his pocket pulls Joonmyun out of his head and he stands, throwing out his now-cold coffee and checking his phone. There's a message from Zitao that he can't bear to check, and another from Kyungsoo. are you going to be home for dinner?

He looks out thoughtfully at the empty park and drags his feet as he makes his way back to Chanyeol's. One last night. Then he can make his decision.



♠



It's strange, being back in EXO House after a week of being away. He'd gotten used to the dark walls and furniture, the creaky floors, but it's like the break has made it all strange again. There's something ominous about everything now, and it doesn't make this any easier.

He doesn't take any extra time to pack up his things. He makes sure he's got the essentials, the important things he would miss, before he goes looking for Zitao. He's under no illusions that EXO will be gracious about this.

Joonmyun was hoping to find Zitao alone, but no such luck. All of EXO is gathered in the living room, like a meeting had been called and Joonmyun is the last to arrive. Yifan stands in the middle of them all, drawn up to his full height, and there is no doubt now. His eyes are entirely black now, the angles of his face sharp and startling. Next to him, Jongdae shifts, smiles a little, showing off a mouthful of pointed teeth. Only Zitao still looks the way he did when Joonmyun met him, but his eyes are everywhere but on Joonmyun.

“When I gave you a second chance, it was out of the good of my heart,” Yifan says, voice all jagged edges. “It was not so that you could take a break to think about it.”

It takes every bit of Joonmyun's willpower to square his shoulders and speak. “I can't do this,” he says. “You didn't tell me everything when I joined. You never told me about the real cost.”

Yifan shrugs. “Does it matter?” he asks. “Nothing comes for free.”

“I'm leaving,” Joonmyun says. Yifan's expression darkens, and Zitao flinches where he sits at Yifan's side. “Zitao?”

Zitao looks up at him, his mouth working. “What?” he asks finally.

“Will you come with me?” Joonmyun hates the edge of desperation to his question, and he hates more the look of panic he sees on Zitao's face. He remembers what Zitao had told him. No matter what they might have done, EXO are his brothers. He hates that he's making Zitao choose, him or them, but he needs Zitao to know – this isn't about him.

“I – ” Zitao hesitates, looking from Joonmyun to the other members, and finally to Yifan. His face is impassive as he stares down at Zitao, but something about his gaze makes Zitao shrink. “Joonmyun.”

“Please.” He never thought he'd have to beg, but here he is. Zitao is shaking his head, and he looks like he might cry.

Yifan settles one big hand on Zitao's shoulder, and Joonmyun knows that it's done. “I can't,” Zitao says miserably, and Joonmyun hates the way that Yifan smiles then, awful and smug.

“You know what you're choosing, if you walk away, don't you?” Yifan asks. “That dream of yours is dead. There isn't a firm in the world that will take you now, I can promise you that. You'll lucky to get a job at all.” The way that he laughs is ugly and harsh. “You're lucky you're even alive. But, as you know, I'm a generous man.” He looks again at Zitao, and for a second, Joonmyun is grateful. If what Zitao felt for him wasn't real, there was no way he'd even be walking out of this house today. He just wishes it didn't have to end like this.

He knows that arguing with Yifan right now is only going to end poorly, especially with the way the rest of them are watching him. There's something inhuman in their eyes, a kind of idle watchfulness and curiosity. There isn't much of them left anymore. “I know,” Joonmyun says, and it only takes him a second to pull his heavy silver ring off his finger and drop it into Yifan's palm. He hoists his bag up on his shoulder and fixes his eyes on Zitao. “I'm sorry,” he says, and he is. He wishes there were some way to salvage this, but he knows now that Zitao would never choose anyone over EXO. And that cuts him to the quick.

“Me too,” Zitao says. Yifan's hand holds him still, and Joonmyun swallows the lump in his throat and slips out the door.

He waits until he's made it all the way back to Chanyeol's before he cries. He locks himself in the bathroom and presses his sleeve to his mouth and does his best to choke it back. When the summer had started, he'd had everything, but now it's all gone. He's got no internship, no place to live, and no Zitao. His chest aches and aches and he doesn't know what to do.

He's got no idea how long he stays there, staring blankly at the wall, his eyes sore and his head pounding. Eventually, Chanyeol jimmies the door lock open and comes in. He holds out a water glass and eyes Joonmyun carefully. “Hyung?” he asks. “Do you want your old room back?”

Joonmyun buries his face in his knees and lets Chanyeol do his awkward best to comfort him, patting too hard at the back of his neck. He doesn't want this to be real.



♛



It doesn't really get easier. It's comfortable, living with Chanyeol again, even if he leaves his dirty socks everywhere, and Kyungsoo checks in on him all the time, but Joonmyun notices it in little things.

He calls Jaesung about the job he'd offered, and as Joonmyun had expected, the man acts like he's never even heard of him. Every follow-up phone call he makes is met with polite but firm rejection, and it's really all the confirmation that Joonmyun needs to know that Yifan's threats had not been empty. Even law professors who had previously been friendly to him are now cold and distant, and Joonmyun wonders what he's going to do with a law degree now.

Luckily, Baekhyun can still use a tutor, so he's at least keeping busy. He spends his days in the quiet of the school library, teaching freshmen the history that they'd missed during the school year or listening to Baekhyun gossip over lunch. He's sympathetic, at least. “Yifan's a prick,” Baekhyun says knowingly, his feet kicked up on the one of the tables buried deep in the stacks. “Did you know how we broke up? He just dropped me one day, like, out of the blue. Said he was bored.” He shrugs. “Whatever. His loss.” He rubs a hand down Joonmyun's arm. “Zitao's, too.”

Joonmyun just smiles tightly. The last thing he wants to talk about right now is Zitao. The last thing he wants to talk about ever is Zitao. Just the mention of his name sets off an ache in his chest and makes it hard to think. He doesn't think that will ever stop.

Kyungsoo is always there too, and Joonmyun has never been more grateful. He's not a particularly demonstrative friend, nor is he good with the feelings side of things, but Kyungsoo knows when Joonmyun needs to lean on someone and watch some sappy movies, and it helps.

But Joonmyun's phone stays silent, and that hurts. He'd checked, once, called Zitao in a drunken moment of weakness. The recording had politely informed him that this number was out of service and Joonmyun nearly threw his phone at a wall. There's something so final about it, and it makes Joonmyun's head throb.

When school comes back, it eases up, at least a little. Joonmyun can bury himself in his studying, devote himself to his schoolwork and his duties for the student council, and it doesn't bother him so much. He lets his friends drag him out to drink, and it's nice to get loose and lose himself in the crowd. No one recognizes him and no one buys him a drink, and Joonmyun's never been so happy about that.

“Hey, you know what's weird?” Sehun says one day at lunch. “I was talking to Daeun, she says that nobody's seen those rich kids you used to hang out with in like, months. They just up and disappeared.”

Joonmyun digs his teeth into his bottom lip and bends over his food. Disappeared. He doesn't want to think about what that means, about what that means for Zitao. “Like, missing persons and stuff?” Chanyeol asked, looking interested.

Sehun shakes his head. “Their parents don't seem to think they're missing? I don't know, maybe they all went abroad or something.” He nudges Joonmyun in the ribs. “Guess you missed out, huh?”

Joonmyun manages to choke out a laugh. “Guess I did,” he says.

That night, he tries Zitao's number again, just to be sure. He listens to the woman's voice again and closes his eyes, trying to steady his breath. This feels like a loss all over again.



♠



“Jongin,” Joonmyun wheedles, arm firm around Jongin's back. “Jongin, come on. I think you're about ready for bed.”

Jongin's head lolls on his shoulders, eyes half-lidded. “Hyung,” he says, and Joonmyun shakes his head. It's Jongin's birthday and he's stuck on babysitting duty, doing his best to keep him upright and not throwing up on himself. So far, he's doing pretty good. “This has been a very good birthday.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Joonmyun says, amused, and he smiles.

“You're smiling!” Jongin exclaims, and he pats a sweaty palm against Joonmyun's face. “That's good. You don't smile enough anymore, hyung, you need to smile more.”

The cab pulls up, and Joonmyun manages to steer Jongin and prop him up long enough to open the door. “I'll keep that in mind,” he says.

Jongin is an easy drunk, pliant and sweet, and it doesn't take Joonmyun long to fold him up into the backseat of the car. He looks up before he climbs in after Jongin, and his heart stops. Across the street, in a shadowed doorway, he can see a very familiar figure. It's too far away, and it's too dark, but Joonmyun knows it's Zitao. He knows it.

He's not alone. In the shadows around him, Joonmyun can make out the forms of the rest of EXO, their outlines blurring into the shadows of the street. After a second, they fade away, just leaving Zitao and his eyes, glowing red in the dark.

“Joonmyun hyung,” Jongin slurs from the backseat, tugging at his pants. The shadowed figure raises a hand, and Joonmyun waves back, trying to fight back the pang in his chest as he too, melts into the dark of the street. “Hyung. I wanna go home.”

“I'm coming,” Joonmyun says, and he slides in next to Jongin. Jongin topples over to lean on him, soju breath hot and sticky on Joonmyun's throat. “Let's get you home.”

He turns around as the cab drives away, and he could swear he sees a pair of red eyes watching him go. Joonmyun swallows hard and clenches his jaw, listening to Jongin breathe and the hum of the engine, and for a second, he smiles.

Comments

[thesockmonster.livejournal.com]

COMMENTING HERE!

Lovelovelove the humanity in this. The story of a relatively good person falling into the trap of the easy way out and climbing his way out again. I love how vulnerable Joonmyun was and how he was drawn to Zitao and inevitably toward EXO. The internal fights over his own soul, Zitao's soul and the others was wonderfully done, leading to a final decision to leave. And I also adore how this wasn't weak Joonmyun running back to the man he loved no matter what the cost (even his soul). He got out and he stayed out. GOOD BOY!

Also, JONGIN!

Yeah, I think I'm done now. /spews letters all over your fic

[loudestoflove.livejournal.com]

♥♥♥

i always thought that joonmyun must have more strength than a lot of people give him credit for. he was, after all, a trainee for seven years, when he could've given up and done something else, but he was determined to make it happen. i tried to make that inner conviction carry over to his final decision to leave exo. even if i wanted to give them a happy ending ;~;

THANKS BB <3

[playfulmelodies.livejournal.com]

ok so I already told you I loved this on twitter but i need to read again and cry and comment brb <3

[playfulmelodies.livejournal.com]

Baekhyun, he fits right next to Yifan, hand sliding around Yifan's waist as he tucks himself under his arm. He looks small next to Yifan, dark-rimmed eyes sly behind his silver mask. At least, Joonmyun thinks, the infatuation seems to be mutual.
everyone loves Baekhyun tbh

His phone vibrates with a text. and a red tie. let's match? followed by a surprisingly cute emoticon.
“No,” Zitao says. His smile is all teeth. “I don't lie my way into the best restaurant in the city for just anyone.”
sTOP

Kyungsoo holds out a pen. “Does it have anything to do with your new rich boytoy?”

“I can't believe you just said that with a straight face,” Joonmyun says quietly, glancing at him sideways.

“Sehun's words,” Kyungsoo says,

/BOYTOY/ omg sehun

He twists until his ear is pressed up against Joonmyun's chest. “I'm not going to get anything done here with you,” Joonmyun sighs, but he reaches down to stroke Zitao's hair.
DONT DO THIS TO ME

Yixing has flour all over his hands, and even Yifan's a bit messy, but Zitao is spotless. He figures that the flurry of texts and selcas that Joonmyun had gotten on the ride over probably explain that.
i am going to die

“When Yixing first moved in, Yifan gained like, thirty pounds. He was horrified.”
loser kris yes

Zitao likes to press right up against the glass like a kid, eyes wide and lips parted as he watches the fish go by.
HE IS SUCH A BABY I JUST CANNOT WITH BABY PEACH

“It's wiggling,” Zitao says, and he sounds halfway between horror and delight. “Take it back. Take it back!” If they weren't surrounded by kids and elbow deep in water, Joonmyun would grab him right now and kiss him. He settles for bumping his arm against Zitao's and grinning.
FAVORITE PART IN THE ENTIRE FIC IM NOT EVEN KIDDING THIS IS THE CUTEST MOST PRECIOUS /SHRIEKS/

There's a kid next to him, he can't be more than seven or eight, and he's eyeing Joonmyun's starfish. Joonmyun bends down until he's on the boy's level and then he holds it out. The kid lights up when he gets the slimy little creature in his hands, eyes going all big and buggy. When he glances over at Zitao again, his eyes are soft and fond on Joonmyun.
im gonna cry and fall over and die will you come to my funeral

“I feel like together, we can do anything,” he says quietly, like it's a confession.
;_______________________________________________________________;

“Just think, we could torture Yifan together, if you join.”
oh my god this is just really not okay

“Was all of this, everything, was it manufactured?” he asks carefully, but his voice is less steady than he'd like. He's not certain what he'll do if everything in the last few months was some ploy to get him to join.

“No,” Zitao says immediately, too loudly. Joonmyun's head jerks up to meet his gaze and Zitao's eyes are wide, the back of his hand against his mouth.
T A O Z I

the way that Zitao bends to press a sloppy kiss to his temple and teases him about his bowtie, this is real. It is.
i just

“It's not selling your soul,” Zitao says. “Not really.” His head hangs so low that Joonmyun can't even see his face through his bangs. “Just a little piece, and you can have your wish.” Joonmyun catches a flash of a tight, bitter smile on Zitao's lips. “The problem is, it's hard to stop wishing.”
this freaked me out so much

He looks again at Zitao, and for a second, Joonmyun is grateful. If what Zitao felt for him wasn't real, there was no way he'd even be walking out of this house today. He just wishes it didn't have to end like this.
YOU'RE MAKING ME SHIP SOMETHING IVE NEVER EVEN THOUGHT OF

Eventually, Chanyeol jimmies the door lock open and comes in. He holds out a water glass and eyes Joonmyun carefully. “Hyung?” he asks. “Do you want your old room back?”
chanyeol is the cutest i think that can be a fact now

“Yifan's a prick,” Baekhyun says knowingly, his feet kicked up on the one of the tables buried deep in the stacks. “Did you know how we broke up? He just dropped me one day, like, out of the blue. Said he was bored.” He shrugs. “Whatever. His loss.” He rubs a hand down Joonmyun's arm. “Zitao's, too.”
baekhyun is better than everyone tbh

[playfulmelodies.livejournal.com]

He's not alone. In the shadows around him, Joonmyun can make out the forms of the rest of EXO, their outlines blurring into the shadows of the street. After a second, they fade away, just leaving Zitao and his eyes, glowing red in the dark.

okay okay okay


okay so i'm not familiar with secret society at all so i was a bit confused coming into this?? like i didn't know what i was expecting but it certainly wasn't this masterpiece oh my god the first time I read this i was just like hoLY CRAP WHAT JUST HAPPENED BECAUSE I DONT THINK I CAN REMEMBER HOW TO FUNCTION?? FUNCTION WHAT IS THAT

all the little things that you put in there with lu han and yixing were just so cute and it kind of shows that they're human still even though part of their soul is gone and the baking scene with yifan ;___; he actually wasn't terrifying and that was nice C: i feel like other than zitao, lu han and yixing were the most humane (??) ones i mean like lu han is terrifying sometimes but luhan and yixing together is okay c: and then jongdae wow little fucker like i want to like him but he's just such a prick and i just ugh ;__; and minseok there wasn't much about him but i mean he doesn't seem totally monstrous (??)

and then yifan oh my god he scared me so much it was terrifying like at first with the whole thing with baekhyun that was sweet and awwwhhh and etc but then later when yixing+lu han aren't around he litterally scared the living shit out of me like i kept thinking that he was going to lash out of junmyeon or something crazy but of course zitao is there to defend him so i guess i shouldn't have been so worried.

and oh my god zitao zitao was just such a perfect combination he's mysterious but he's also loving and sweet but at the same time intimidating and he gets what he wants but he doesn't get junmyeon and that is just ;__; and i honestly don't think zitao is a bad person he's just lost and he thinks that the only way he'll be able to do anything is by being part of EXO and i would assume after a while it's impossible to leave and even if he left for junmyeon like there would be nothing left for him??

and junmyeon oh my god my perfect boy i love you so very much let me love you and wrap you up in a big fluffy blanket and kiss you on the nose and make you tea and whatever else you could possible want because you are so very precious ;__; i love how you wrote his decision to leave exo because obviously it's a big deal with the whole soul thing and he's just a decent person through and through and it's really just a shame that professors acted coldly towards him after he left exo ;__; and kyungsoo is just a marvelous friend just perfect he's the voice of reason that junmyeon doesn't want to listen to at first but then later realizes that kyungsoo had been right and maybe he should have been more careful. and chanyeol is precious too ofc and sehun and jongin omg brats <3 and baekhyun was adorable too ofc he would catch the eye of the most powerful man in EXO he's perfectly gorgeous ;__;

okay i didn't mean for this to get this long and incoherent but please accept my buckets of love for it this is like all i've ever wanted in life up until now i didn't know until i read it this is just flawless and perfect and [insert all other synonyms] <3 <3 <3

[loudestoflove.livejournal.com]

thank you!! i wanted to make sure that exo came across as human before i started sneaking in the rest of the stuff, because monsters like this are so much scarier when you can relate to them. the only reason jongdae and lu han might seem the worst is because a) lu han has been around nearly as long as yifan has, and b) jongdae has given up so much for his voice. they're also both kind of vocal members irl, so it makes sense that they'd be the most visibly menacing, at least to me.

that's exactly it!! zitao's still very young, and he's also very rich and he's used to getting the things that he wants. he doesn't mean any harm, he just goes about things the wrong way

i'm glad you liked this!! <333 thank you so much!!

[veiledstar.livejournal.com]

how do you manage to do that thing where you provide just enough detail to facilitate a mental image of the place and not enough for it to be overbearing
you are amazing job
<3

btw i hope sehun's grades improved! joonmyun can help him with mandarin right? and assign him extra homework just to help and maybe designate rewards based on how well sehun completes his homework i mean using his brain hurts but sextra credit won't !!!!!!!!!!!!!! refuses to see sukai

[loudestoflove.livejournal.com]

i'm actually not that great with description, so i was trying really hard with this one!! i'm glad you think i did well n___n

sure, sehun's grades improved, with kyungsoo's help. he's dating a nice girl, soojung. lmao sextra credit. thank you so much for reading!!

[shay-rinne.livejournal.com]

HOLY SHIT.
I love how you made a very intricate plot and absolute control of English click

Weeps I have so much feels after this I love how junmyeon adds a sprinkle of humanity into the otherwise ice cold EXO sheesh sutao is a new pairing I ship and I think I'm falling deeper cause of this fic weeps

Brb need to collect my thoughts my mind is spinning THIS WAS AMAZINGGGGG

[loudestoflove.livejournal.com]

sutao is such a great pairing, they're so obviously affectionate it slays me. i'm glad i could show you the light!! thank you so much for reading!!

[bauci.livejournal.com]

I liked the mood here, how you switched between the feelings Sutao had for each other and the eerie 'stuff is not right' and 'stuff is downright scary'. The way you expressed how Suho was unsettled and afraid was quite different from what I usually read. It was from an intelligent persons perspective who is trying to rationalize, which made it such an interesting read. Uh, I don't know how to say what I actually mean here but I felt that you weren't trying to be upfront about wanting to scare a reader but more like worm in the doubt. It worked! I had to search for a smut fic to calm my nerves after because I had the brilliant idea to read your fic already in bed at 2am, uhh. Glowing red eyes in the dark... ;~;

The Sutao was wonderful, or as wonderful it could be under these circumstances. I had a stupid grin on half of the time when reading, they really seemed to be very, very into each other. I almost wanted Suho to go back to him just so I wouldn't have to imagine the heartbreak that would await both of them. But it did make me wonder. In the end, how much of his soul did Tao exchange for Suho? His wants here circled around him quite a bit - pursuing him, getting him into EXO and then getting him out of there...

In the end, both Suho and Tao were very likable. Why did it have to be like this ;~; Why couldn't it have been a Disney movie ;~~~; Kyungsoo could have been an angel and slayed Yifan with his sword of light or something releasing everyone and we would have had a big dance number in the end, led by (also freed) dancing machine...


It was a very interesting read, I enjoyed it immensely.

[loudestoflove.livejournal.com]

i really wanted the sweet parts with sutao to contrast with the creepy vibes from exo and make them that much more unsettling. and you're right!! i wanted it to be subtle, make the reader uneasy without just flat out saying 'exo are bad guys' lmao, so thank you!! (i'm sorry it scared you like that tho :( )

it very much was a vicious cycle for tao by the end. if he kept joonmyun, he wouldn't have been his joonmyun after very long, and if he'd gone with him, yifan would've gone after them. by convincing yifan to let him go, he at least gave joonmyun a chance, even if he wished he could go with him.

this fic was hard for me bc i'm such a sucker for a happy ending, but i felt it had to end this way!! lmao that would be the best alternate ending, but only if yifan gets to survive too (i'm a big fan of duizhang u____u)

thank you so much for reading!!

[baekhoes-garden.livejournal.com]

similar to the people on the x-factor, i have been on an emotional roller-coaster

i will show you some top messages i sent while reading this

the sheer amount of money just makes me want to stop reading
i should just stop reading

don't worry these were empty threats but that was when the turmoil began to get to me. it was very stressful. i think i sweated (but that might also be the burning heat outside)

nothing he's just making bad life decisions
joined a bad group which i was screaming DON'T JOIN at
i feel ill on behalf of his decisions


i actually got to the stage of shouting "nO stop!" at my screen

and then when i got to the end:

jfc if you want out now you should've listened to me in the first place
it got better
in an odd way

i'm glad i read all the way because i just love how this ended.

(((in my head-canon for this fic he decides his affinity with little kids and skills with tutoring means he wants to be a primary school teacher instead. oh and he gets with jongin too because that scene at the end was pretty potent and cute. i hope kris sends to suho's primary school and suho doesn't recognise him because that's what he deserves because poor waiter, man)))

thanks for writing!

[loudestoflove.livejournal.com]

i'm glad you kept reading, even if it made you scream!! it's my headcanon that joonmyun gets with jongin in the end, but it takes him quite a while to move past tao u____u. thank you so much for reading!!

[rosa-elefante.livejournal.com]

I had the terrible idea of starting this yesterday night before going to bed... I obviously had only few hours of sleep because I litterally couldn't stop reading.

When I read 'secret society AU' I really wasn't expecting THIS.
I was expecting fluff and hot secret agents and... well, there actually was fluff (because a Sutao cannot not be fluff~) and yeah the agents were hot but... I really wasn't expecting all this. And I loved it!
I liked a lot the setting and the way you described Joonmyun's dilemma and his relationship with his friends and with Tao and... I BASICALLY LOVED EVERYTHING ;;