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fic advent: day five
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lapereaux ♥
kai/tao
pg-13, 1.7k words
prompt was this song, so naturally it became a high school prom au. this is so self-indulgent, i apologize.
lapereaux ♥kai/tao
pg-13, 1.7k words
prompt was this song, so naturally it became a high school prom au. this is so self-indulgent, i apologize.
It's too tight. He knew it'd be too tight. Jongin shifts uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way that his rented suit jacket pulls taut over his shoulders. His mom had told him, too, but he'd just wanted to get a suit and get the hell out of there, and now he's stuck squirming around and hoping maybe the jacket will stretch a bit. Maybe, if he's lucky, it'll get hot in the gym and then it'll be socially acceptable to take it off.
Jongin stops abruptly when he realizes that Chanyeol is watching him, eyebrows raised. “What's wrong with you?” he asks, and Jongin hates the mocking grin spreading across Chanyeol's face. It's not malicious, but it makes Jongin shove him hard enough that Chanyeol wobbles and his punch slops over his knuckles. “Easy, tiger.” He frowns and bends to lick the sugary drink off his hand.
“Gross,” Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose. “Why don't you wash your hands like a normal person?”
“And waste this?” Chanyeol laughs, deliberately lapping up a drop that had rolled down his forearm. Jongin watches idly, knowing that Chanyeol had half meant for the gesture to be sexy but instead Kyungsoo looks faintly horrified, fishing in his pockets for a tissue or something.
Jongin's given up on making his jacket sit on a shoulder in a way that doesn't bug him, resigned to his fate of discomfort all night. He wonders if that's kind of the point of these things. His own cup of punch is forgotten in his hand, getting warm, but it's not like he really wants to drink it.
There's music playing, but nobody's dancing. To Jongin, that makes no sense. There are a few people here and there, and he wonders what it'd be like if he weren't too self-conscious to go join them. Isn't that the whole reason why he's here? Well, that and –
His eyes slide to the other side of the room. Yifan, expected prom king, holds court over the other Chinese exchange students, and Jongin's jealous of how well his expensive-looking suit fits. But it's not Yifan he's looking for. Or Lu Han and Yixing, thick as thieves, shoulders pressed together while they share a quiet conversation.
Jongin finds him without even trying, his gaze drawn to him like a magnet. Zitao is all long limbs, white button up fitted to the neat line of his waist. He looks good, Jongin thinks wistfully. He always does, really, but that's not the point. He's wearing a little bowtie and smiling at something Jongdae is saying and Jongin is pretty sure he's never looked better.
“You're doing it again,” Sehun tells him. His tie is already half off and he, wisely, probably, had opted for water instead of whatever this punch was.
Jongin raises his cup to his face and squints into it. It's pink. He's pretty sure pink is not a fruit. “Doing what?” he asks, unnecessarily. He knows what Sehun's going to say, but he'd rather pretend that he doesn't.
“The weird staring thing.” Sehun glances over at Zitao, looking him over. He shrugs. “I don't get it, man. What kind of loser wears a bowtie, anyway?”
“Shut up,” Jongin says defensively. He knows it's a mistake as soon as Sehun looks at him sidelong, a knowing smirk spreading across his lips. “It's not – ” Sehun's grin gets wider. “Shut up!” He glares at Sehun and takes a hesitant sip of punch. It's as gross and over-sweet as he'd thought. Seems appropriate.
Sehun doesn't even flinch. “So it's not you standing over here with your shitty punch and trying to make Zitao come make out with you with your brain.” Jongin sputters but ends up just closing his mouth and glaring at Sehun. “Thought so. Dude, you are such a pussy. I'm surprised you even managed to get up the courage to introduce yourself.”
“You suck,” Jongin grumbles. He ditches the gross punch on a table and pulls again at the shoulders of his jacket. Baekhyun barely looks up from his conversation with Taeyeon, but Jongin doesn't even have the energy to dwell on the unfairness that is Baekhyun with his fingers tangled up with the pretty senior noona.
His eyes dart again across the room and this time, when they find Zitao, he's looking back. Jongin's stomach drops out and he looks away immediately, a flush creeping up his cheeks. His heart feels like it's going to beat its way out of his chest. “Pathetic,” Sehun tells him, but there's no edge to it. If Jongin weren't so distracted right now, he'd point out Sehun's equally hopeless crush on their hot young student teacher, Miss Kwon.
As it is, though, he risks another glance up and his heart tries to take a flying leap right out of his chest when he sees that Zitao is smiling at him. It's just as little and hesitant as Jongin feels right now, and something about that sparks up a little hope in his chest. It's just enough to push him into motion. “Shut up,” he says one more time, and slides out of his jacket. Sehun blinks as Jongin shoves it into his hand and strides purposefully out on the dance floor. Jongin's way nervous but the shock on Sehun's face is kind of rewarding.
There still aren't a lot of people dancing, but Jongin is already here, so he might as well just go for it. In the middle of the floor, Hyoyeon beams at him and waves him over. Jongin heads over without objection. He's always liked Hyoyeon, bright and friendly and a great dancer, always willing to help him in his dance classes.
Following her lead, Jongin lets go. The music isn't great, but it's got a catchy beat and dancing is probably the one thing that Jongin likes better than sleeping. Hyoyeon's laughter is infectious and for a few minutes, Jongin doesn't think.
He lets Hyoyeon reel him in and pull out his smile, teasing him about how he's too young to be so grumpy. He loses track of time, and his tie, as the floor fills up. The one thing he doesn't lose track of, even through the crowd of dancers, is Zitao. Sometimes he's watching Jongin, body facing Jongdae but his eyes fixed on Jongin's. The way that he bites his lip makes Jongin's chest tighten, makes it hard to breathe.
Still, though, it's like Jongin exhausted his courage just by getting himself out on the floor. He wants to go ask Zitao to dance, but it's like he can't physically make himself do it. Instead, he dances and he watches, and he feels like a bit of an idiot. He's pretty sure making the first move isn't supposed to be this hard.
“Ooh,” Hyoyeon says, mouth right at his ear between songs. “He's cute.” Jongin chokes and stares at her, wide-eyed. Even when she pulls away again, he can hear her laughing. “What? You're not exactly subtle.” Of course, that's exactly when Sehun slides up beside them and Jongin feels kind of ambushed. “Tell him,” Hyoyeon says to Sehun. “Tell him he should go ask the cute little Chinese exchange student to dance.”
“I've tried,” Sehun says sadly, and Jongin scowls at him. “It turns out that he's useless.”
Jongin can feel himself turning red. “Quit it,” he whines, shrinking down under their scrutiny and twin grins. He licks his lips nervously and glances over his shoulder one more time. He watches Lu Han tip his head back and laugh, shoving Zitao, and Zitao ducks his head with embarrassment, pushing back. Then the two of them are looking up at him. Jongin's, well, he's pretty terrible at reading body language and like, signs and stuff. But this one seems pretty clear to him. “Okay,” he says. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Sehun asks. “What's okay?”
Jongin doesn't hear him. He's too busy pushing his way through the people on the dance floor and doing his best not to lose his nerve. His flush only gets worse when he sees Lu Han's eyes widen, pushing Zitao forward.
When he's finally in front of Zitao, his mouth goes dry and his feet stumble to a stop. Not so graceful now, huh? He swallows and rubs at his neck, grateful that it's a little quieter back here. “Hi,” he says finally. His voice is so weak it's barely audible. He tries again. “Hi!”
There's a lopsided, pleased smile making its way across Zitao's lips. “Hi, Jongin,” he replies, and Jongin would like to think he's strong enough to not get a total rush when Zitao says his name, but he does.
“So,” he says, and behind Zitao, Jongdae snorts. Zitao's head whips around, eyes fierce and hard and Jongdae holds up his hands in apology. An amused smile on his lips, Yifan wraps an arm around Lu Han's waist and then steers the rest of them away. Zitao turns back, his eyes shy and encouraging, and Jongin musters up a bit more courage. “You don't, uh. Come to a lot of these dances.”
“No,” Zitao agrees. He carefully sets down his drink, looking expectant, and that's probably about when Jongin realizes that he has nothing to lose.
“Do you want to dance? With me?” He waves a hand vaguely at the crowd of students dancing. “Over there?”
The grin that Zitao flashes him is bright and sharp, all teeth. “Yes, please,” he agrees, so fast that Jongin's breath catches in his throat.
Jongin grins back. “Awesome,” he says fervently, and Zitao laughs. Hesitantly, he holds out a hand and Zitao takes it. He leads Jongin back out onto the floor, and they find their own space. Zitao never lets go of Jongin's hand, even if they're getting sweaty, and Jongin could swear he feels Zitao's heartbeat against his palm. He's pretty sure this is the best night of his life, shitty punch and all.
Jongin stops abruptly when he realizes that Chanyeol is watching him, eyebrows raised. “What's wrong with you?” he asks, and Jongin hates the mocking grin spreading across Chanyeol's face. It's not malicious, but it makes Jongin shove him hard enough that Chanyeol wobbles and his punch slops over his knuckles. “Easy, tiger.” He frowns and bends to lick the sugary drink off his hand.
“Gross,” Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose. “Why don't you wash your hands like a normal person?”
“And waste this?” Chanyeol laughs, deliberately lapping up a drop that had rolled down his forearm. Jongin watches idly, knowing that Chanyeol had half meant for the gesture to be sexy but instead Kyungsoo looks faintly horrified, fishing in his pockets for a tissue or something.
Jongin's given up on making his jacket sit on a shoulder in a way that doesn't bug him, resigned to his fate of discomfort all night. He wonders if that's kind of the point of these things. His own cup of punch is forgotten in his hand, getting warm, but it's not like he really wants to drink it.
There's music playing, but nobody's dancing. To Jongin, that makes no sense. There are a few people here and there, and he wonders what it'd be like if he weren't too self-conscious to go join them. Isn't that the whole reason why he's here? Well, that and –
His eyes slide to the other side of the room. Yifan, expected prom king, holds court over the other Chinese exchange students, and Jongin's jealous of how well his expensive-looking suit fits. But it's not Yifan he's looking for. Or Lu Han and Yixing, thick as thieves, shoulders pressed together while they share a quiet conversation.
Jongin finds him without even trying, his gaze drawn to him like a magnet. Zitao is all long limbs, white button up fitted to the neat line of his waist. He looks good, Jongin thinks wistfully. He always does, really, but that's not the point. He's wearing a little bowtie and smiling at something Jongdae is saying and Jongin is pretty sure he's never looked better.
“You're doing it again,” Sehun tells him. His tie is already half off and he, wisely, probably, had opted for water instead of whatever this punch was.
Jongin raises his cup to his face and squints into it. It's pink. He's pretty sure pink is not a fruit. “Doing what?” he asks, unnecessarily. He knows what Sehun's going to say, but he'd rather pretend that he doesn't.
“The weird staring thing.” Sehun glances over at Zitao, looking him over. He shrugs. “I don't get it, man. What kind of loser wears a bowtie, anyway?”
“Shut up,” Jongin says defensively. He knows it's a mistake as soon as Sehun looks at him sidelong, a knowing smirk spreading across his lips. “It's not – ” Sehun's grin gets wider. “Shut up!” He glares at Sehun and takes a hesitant sip of punch. It's as gross and over-sweet as he'd thought. Seems appropriate.
Sehun doesn't even flinch. “So it's not you standing over here with your shitty punch and trying to make Zitao come make out with you with your brain.” Jongin sputters but ends up just closing his mouth and glaring at Sehun. “Thought so. Dude, you are such a pussy. I'm surprised you even managed to get up the courage to introduce yourself.”
“You suck,” Jongin grumbles. He ditches the gross punch on a table and pulls again at the shoulders of his jacket. Baekhyun barely looks up from his conversation with Taeyeon, but Jongin doesn't even have the energy to dwell on the unfairness that is Baekhyun with his fingers tangled up with the pretty senior noona.
His eyes dart again across the room and this time, when they find Zitao, he's looking back. Jongin's stomach drops out and he looks away immediately, a flush creeping up his cheeks. His heart feels like it's going to beat its way out of his chest. “Pathetic,” Sehun tells him, but there's no edge to it. If Jongin weren't so distracted right now, he'd point out Sehun's equally hopeless crush on their hot young student teacher, Miss Kwon.
As it is, though, he risks another glance up and his heart tries to take a flying leap right out of his chest when he sees that Zitao is smiling at him. It's just as little and hesitant as Jongin feels right now, and something about that sparks up a little hope in his chest. It's just enough to push him into motion. “Shut up,” he says one more time, and slides out of his jacket. Sehun blinks as Jongin shoves it into his hand and strides purposefully out on the dance floor. Jongin's way nervous but the shock on Sehun's face is kind of rewarding.
There still aren't a lot of people dancing, but Jongin is already here, so he might as well just go for it. In the middle of the floor, Hyoyeon beams at him and waves him over. Jongin heads over without objection. He's always liked Hyoyeon, bright and friendly and a great dancer, always willing to help him in his dance classes.
Following her lead, Jongin lets go. The music isn't great, but it's got a catchy beat and dancing is probably the one thing that Jongin likes better than sleeping. Hyoyeon's laughter is infectious and for a few minutes, Jongin doesn't think.
He lets Hyoyeon reel him in and pull out his smile, teasing him about how he's too young to be so grumpy. He loses track of time, and his tie, as the floor fills up. The one thing he doesn't lose track of, even through the crowd of dancers, is Zitao. Sometimes he's watching Jongin, body facing Jongdae but his eyes fixed on Jongin's. The way that he bites his lip makes Jongin's chest tighten, makes it hard to breathe.
Still, though, it's like Jongin exhausted his courage just by getting himself out on the floor. He wants to go ask Zitao to dance, but it's like he can't physically make himself do it. Instead, he dances and he watches, and he feels like a bit of an idiot. He's pretty sure making the first move isn't supposed to be this hard.
“Ooh,” Hyoyeon says, mouth right at his ear between songs. “He's cute.” Jongin chokes and stares at her, wide-eyed. Even when she pulls away again, he can hear her laughing. “What? You're not exactly subtle.” Of course, that's exactly when Sehun slides up beside them and Jongin feels kind of ambushed. “Tell him,” Hyoyeon says to Sehun. “Tell him he should go ask the cute little Chinese exchange student to dance.”
“I've tried,” Sehun says sadly, and Jongin scowls at him. “It turns out that he's useless.”
Jongin can feel himself turning red. “Quit it,” he whines, shrinking down under their scrutiny and twin grins. He licks his lips nervously and glances over his shoulder one more time. He watches Lu Han tip his head back and laugh, shoving Zitao, and Zitao ducks his head with embarrassment, pushing back. Then the two of them are looking up at him. Jongin's, well, he's pretty terrible at reading body language and like, signs and stuff. But this one seems pretty clear to him. “Okay,” he says. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Sehun asks. “What's okay?”
Jongin doesn't hear him. He's too busy pushing his way through the people on the dance floor and doing his best not to lose his nerve. His flush only gets worse when he sees Lu Han's eyes widen, pushing Zitao forward.
When he's finally in front of Zitao, his mouth goes dry and his feet stumble to a stop. Not so graceful now, huh? He swallows and rubs at his neck, grateful that it's a little quieter back here. “Hi,” he says finally. His voice is so weak it's barely audible. He tries again. “Hi!”
There's a lopsided, pleased smile making its way across Zitao's lips. “Hi, Jongin,” he replies, and Jongin would like to think he's strong enough to not get a total rush when Zitao says his name, but he does.
“So,” he says, and behind Zitao, Jongdae snorts. Zitao's head whips around, eyes fierce and hard and Jongdae holds up his hands in apology. An amused smile on his lips, Yifan wraps an arm around Lu Han's waist and then steers the rest of them away. Zitao turns back, his eyes shy and encouraging, and Jongin musters up a bit more courage. “You don't, uh. Come to a lot of these dances.”
“No,” Zitao agrees. He carefully sets down his drink, looking expectant, and that's probably about when Jongin realizes that he has nothing to lose.
“Do you want to dance? With me?” He waves a hand vaguely at the crowd of students dancing. “Over there?”
The grin that Zitao flashes him is bright and sharp, all teeth. “Yes, please,” he agrees, so fast that Jongin's breath catches in his throat.
Jongin grins back. “Awesome,” he says fervently, and Zitao laughs. Hesitantly, he holds out a hand and Zitao takes it. He leads Jongin back out onto the floor, and they find their own space. Zitao never lets go of Jongin's hand, even if they're getting sweaty, and Jongin could swear he feels Zitao's heartbeat against his palm. He's pretty sure this is the best night of his life, shitty punch and all.
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