take flight (hoaegi ) wrote,

[kris/lay] the games we play

the games we play
yixing/kris
pg-13, 4,000w
yixing blames his long hangover on drinks and this random guy he meets.



yixing doesn't know what came over him but he lets his friends drag him to the empty playground behind their school—bottles of drinks clinking against each other.

he'd never been like that, yixing muses, when they down bottle after bottle, words turning incoherent and they're sprawled across the soft sand on the ground—mumbling illegible sentences along the lines of "we're finally out," and "graduated at last".

"d'you wanna come to the club with us later, yixing-ge," zitao mutters, hair matted with sweat and sand. the rest of their little group is seemingly knocked out perpetually and zitao is rolling about, on the verge of blacking out, too.

they've done this drinking thing a few times—times of celebration, it seems—when they all passed their finals last year, and when lu han managed to hook up with that sehun guy last month.


they'd probably wake up a few hours later and go home.

not today, it seems.

yixing takes a slow swig of the alcohol and nods, "why not?" before zitao grins and snores, digging his face into the sand.



they wake up an hour later—thanks to jongdae's constant whining about the club thing and then zitao drags yixing back home and demands him to dress up decently— "ge, no one will dance with you if you go there in a t-shirt," he'd said, and minseok gives him two thumbs-ups for zitao's thick brown leather jacket donned on him after minutes of bickering.





they arrive at the noisy club after a heavy dinner at the nearby japanese buffet restaurant. the guy guarding the door with his name tag pinned slanted—chanyeol—doesn't even bother to check their ages as he ushers them in with a sleazy "welcome".


fuck. yixing's never felt this nervous. not when he first introduced himself as a chinese student in front of a frightening class of forty koreans. or when he tripped over his own shoelaces gawking at this cute guy across the street.

the booming music invites them in and lu han yells in freedom. zitao begrudgingly pushes yixing in with a snort and yixing yelps. the metal-studded jacket feels thrice as heavy than when he first wore it.

they sit around a table and lu han waves at sehun approaching. drinks come and snacks follow, yixing is moving his body to the loud music and minseok is halfway to drunk again.

jongdae makes it a point to stay sober, it seems, because all he's drinking is plain water now. he eyes yixing and jerks his chin towards lu han and sehun wearily. "i probably need to take them back later," he yells through the bass.

"fancy a dance, yixing-ge?" zitao grins and yanks yixing from his seat. the latter looks down to fix his jeans a bit but the grip on his hand loosens and when he looks up there are all kinds of people but zitao.

holy shit.



yixing looks back the way he'd come and he can't see anything. people are flooding about him and he is practically shoved about by people dancing.

he's still trying to crane his neck to find a certain tall boy with the blazing red jacket until— "oof," yixing mumbles involuntarily, his head colliding with someone else taller.

well, definitely taller because he has to look up and squint his eyes in the blinding disco lights to focus his vision.

"sorry," yixing shouts, which looks sort of unhelpful because the tall person still looks puzzled. he runs a hand through his layered hair and mouths "sorry" over and over.

the other man nods and turns to walk away but there's this woman with a hell of a huge ass bumping into yixing from his back and it sends him stumbling into the back of the tall man.

he hoped otherwise, but he yelps for the second time in the night.



after some mindless searching for zitao, he gives up and sits near the bartender alone. his friends are probably having fun but he's terrified, so he lets the suave bartender give him drinks and he downs them all.

"hey junmyeon? give me a beer here." a man comfortably sits beside yixing and begins to stare at him from head to toe. yixing is too deranged to be bothered, but he's feeling too warm so he bats the double images away with his hands.

the bartender—junmyeon turns back with beer in his hands and sets it down before going back to being busy again.

the man leers at yixing when yixing rests his head on the counter-top, murmuring nonsense and his fingers write smooth cursive on the black surface.

obviously, this is a club and obviously yixing is being watched like prey right now but he's too weak to move away, too weak to say no. he hiccups and from the corner of his eye he almost sees minseok staggering. almost.

his eyes are probably tricking him because the tall man from earlier is walking towards him. yixing chuckles slowly and blinks, willing the illusions away but there are strong arms around his torso and the man opposite looks almost appalled.

"what are you looking at? he's my boyfriend." he covers smoothly. yixing also mentally notes that his voice sounds terribly inviting.

the other man growls but walks away with his drink.

"thank you," yixing does a cheers motion and takes a huge gulp. junmyeon gives a low whistle while wiping shot glasses clean. "usual for you, kris?" the tall man nods.

yixing hiccups and reaches for his glass on the counter until kris grabs his hand, telling him to stop. "i'm kris," he says instead, and yixing's stomach does flips.

"i know," yixing mumbles when junmyeon sets another glass down. he reaches out again but kris hisses in his ears. "you're supposed to reply me with your name."

"yixing," he replies all too easily, and hiccups again. but kris is staring at him so intensely he isn't sure if he really is hiccuping or he just wants to feign drunk.

his arm is slung around kris conveniently as they maneuver through the crowd. "did you come here alone?" kris asks when they sit down in a more secluded area of the club. yixing shakes his head.

"where are your friends? i'll bring you to them." kris presses, his knee jutting painfully into yixing's thigh. "they're gone," yixing yells with lidded eyes. "i only have you," he giggles.

yixing decides it's a good that he came to the club with the guys and that zitao let him wear this stupid jacket because kris curses presses his lips against yixing's. he isn't sure how to react but kris' long legs are rubbing too comfortably against yixing's own and he's pretty sure he moans.

because kris pulls away with glazed eyes and yixing's back pocket vibrates. he pulls out the device with a snarl.

"bed time, yixing?" kris asks.

yixing shoves the phone back into his pocket after typing a quick "i'll be back later" and he gives kris a meaningful look.

"i'm going to take a walk outside."



he really hopes he's sober, but the lamp posts are curves and the world is spinning. his legs aren't obeying him at all and he throws up by the water hydrant. there are footsteps, a sigh, and tissues offered on his left.

"you're hopeless, yixing," kris offers helpfully, as yixing manages to stand up straight.

yixing's back pocket buzzes again and this time he's sober enough to pick up. "hello? mm yes ge, i'll be back soon."

it's probably four in the morning and yixing stirs, awake and is wasted, sitting on a bench with a guy he barely knows. he mentally snorts at the atrocity but kris is softly snoring on his shoulders (he still wonders how it happened—kris is a head taller than him, after all) and he should hurry home soon.

it's amusingly endearing how the other man kept him company, anyway.

"kris," he mutters, shaking his shoulders and yixing watches him flutter his eyelashes and rub at his eyes sleepily.

"five minutes," kris grits out, and wraps an arm around yixing. yixing finds this awfully awkward because kris is too tall for him and this position is not helping—or comfortable at all. he hisses and jabs his elbow harshly into kris' ribs until he wakes up again.

"i have to go home now," yixing explains hurriedly. kris nods and sits up straight.

the weather sort of gets colder and colder when yixing walks home slowly. he sniffs bitterly and remembers the warmth of kris' arms.



yixing almost misses the official "laundry collection" when he steps in. lu han is packing dirty and stained clothes in a bag and asks if yixing has any.

zitao is abandoning all maknae duties, jongdae answers when yixing asks what they were doing.

they stuff clothes into trash bags and it stinks. of alcohol and club things.

sehun offers to help them drop it off at the dry cleaners down the street- since he's going home anyway, and they all thank him with smiles.

"yixing-ge, where did you go yesterday? i almost cried when i lost you in the crowd!" zitao comes bumbling out from his room and sulks at yixing.

"i, uh thought you left me alone so i had a few drinks and didn't wake up until lu han called," he swiftly explains, conveniently leaving kris out.

after a gratifying breakfast yixing takes a shower and wraps himself in his blankets. he's trying not to think about kris. and his long arms. or long legs. or the smooth curve of his upper lip. or maybe his v-shaped brows.

so he almost jumps when minseok flops himself on the couch beside.

"a penny for your thoughts, yixing?" minseok grins, and yixing only groans softly. "just a headache…" he rubs at his temples, and buries his head into minseok's back conveniently.

minseok only pats yixing's back soothingly, lulling him to sleep effectively.




he stirs awake, blanket draped irritatingly over his body and he's drenched in sweat. yixing curses and opens the windows. the sky is a tantalizing shade of purple mixed with orange and he taps his chin without bothering to look at the clock. it must be about dinner-time.

there's a hurriedly scrawled note on the coffee table—the handwriting is so messy yixing can't even deduce who wrote it, but it says something about collecting their clothes from the shop down the street and that they'll bring dinner back for him later.

so he pulls on a pair of painfully striking neon green sneakers and heads out.



the bell dings softly as yixing pushes at the door. his green shoes are a stark difference with the black, polished floor and he sniffs. where is jongin?

speak of the devil. jongin strolls out of the storage room, staring at his clipboard intently without even acknowledging yixing.

"oh hi yixing-hyung, here to collect your clothes? they aren't ready yet… do you want to drop by later or wait here?"

yixing only raises a brow at the question. usually jongin keeps him company and wait for the laundry to be ready for collection but today he looks extra hurried.

"ah. i have a new assistant for the time being because appa and umma are overseas," jongin grins, hand scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"our jongin-ah is a mentor now, when he hasn't even finished learning the basics," yixing comments jokingly and watches jongin turn red in the face.

jongin only growls as a reply and walks back into the storage. there are two voices and yixing can barely remember from the fragments of his memory why the second voice, aside from jongin's, sounds so familiar.

then kris walks out of the storage room and yixing almost screams.


"he's your assistant?" yixing croaks dryly.

"do you know him?" jongin asks, and kris shoots a grin at yixing and jongin goes oh oh oh but he doesn’t really know, anyway. there's a dull ding from the room beside and jongin claps his hands. "well kris go on and get yixing his clothes then!"

jongin practically shoves the both of them away and sits on the couch, occupying himself with a magazine. yixing looks at everything but kris while the latter packs the clothes and hands it over.

"why are you working here?" did you know i send my clothes here?

"school break—plus i have nothing much to do in the day, anyway."

"fancy meeting you here," yixing laughs airily. kris only smiles back and ushers him out.

jongin only waves at yixing half-heartedly from the couch and kris opens the door for him when yixing walks out.

he isn’t even sure why he's sniffing at the clothes but the clothes smell nice and fresh—and then he catches a distinct whiff of kris.

damn it.




they buy food back for yixing—and minseok ruffles his hair before going to his room. yixing also dramatically whines that no one in the world cares about him except minseok-hyung. lu han then throws yixing's pillow out of their room as retaliation.

the apartment seems almost empty—the scary pin-drop silence and whatnot. but yixing blows air over his noodles and that, along with the tapping sounds of jongdae on his laptop—are the only sounds. he also vaguely remembers they're all suffering from the remains of a hangover, so he lets it go.

when jongdae shuts his laptop down, yawns and ask if yixing's heading to bed, he shakes his head and stares at the ceiling. jongdae has a quizzical look on his face but what can yixing answer? i want to stay up and fantasize about the good-looking person who i spent last night with?

he settles for a "i'm still full" with a grin and jongdae happily leaves him alone.




yixing would be lying if he said he made trips to jongin's unintentionally. lu han's sweaters are more occasionally stained by accidental spills of yixing's black coffee and zitao almost cries when yixing trips over a rock wearing his favorite graphic tee—dirtying it with dirt on the road.

jongin makes it a point for kris to personally attend to yixing whenever he comes by because he sees the glint in yixing's eyes all too clearly and it's either kris is blind or that kris doesn't want to reciprocate. he buries his face in a magazine every time anyway.

one time jongin leaves the shop to kris and goes out to attend some birthday party—and yixing visits again for minseok's bedsheets. kris shoves him against a rack filled with clothes and hangers and kisses yixing silly. the smell of kris overpowers the smell of bleach and everything and his head whirls.

when jongin comes back he pats yixing on the shoulder and shoots a knowing glance at kris. yixing only grabs the bedsheets and dashes out of the doors, leaving the bells chiming.

kris and yixing goes out skiving sometimes—when jongin is being nice and not an ass and they spend weekends at the coffee shop just by the turn beside jongin's house and they only snort at each other's choice in coffee. yixing likes black coffee with extra sugar and kris has a blatant hate for bitter things.

one time yixing also makes kris drink his deadly—or sickeningly sweet coffee, as kris says, and he makes this face yixing'll never forget.

they also run to the nearby park when jongin closes the shop at night and takes photos using yixing's blue polaroid camera under the stars. lu han only gives yixing sceptical glances when he returns home in the dead of the night, but says nothing.

"enjoy the sweet things in life," yixing'd tell kris—over and over when kris sulks over something that is too sweet-tasting for his liking—or when yixing sneaks up behind kris to give him a back tackle.



weeks pass without knowing, yixing making frequent trips to the shop and kris always there. it's yixing's birthday tomorrow, though—though kris doesn’t know. it's a sunday and kris is never at jongin's on sundays. he kicks the leg of the computer desk and jongdae glances at him, puzzled.

they sing the birthday song for yixing at midnight sharp—melting candles and smashing of cakes and loud laughter. yixing slips out of the apartment when all of them are asleep—two in the morning? he can't really be bothered, now.

yixing is bad at directions but the flashing neon lights of shops in the dark somewhat lead his way to the stupid club again. chanyeol is chewing on gum and he eyes yixing thoroughly, recognition flicking in his eyes. he opens the door for him.

junmyeon also gives yixing an extra glass of lemon tea because yixing wants lemon tea—"it's my birthday," yixing had said, the second glass of alcohol in his system, "i want lemon tea." junmyeon gives yixing what he wants but his eyes tell a different story from his smile. his eyes seem to tell yixing there's something bad here, but in the heat of the moment yixing strolls—staggers about and flops conveniently on a couch.

just before he falls into slumber though, his eyes widen at the scene before him.
kris. sucking face with a girl.

kris sees him and junmyeon sees him but yixing doesn't see himself.
he runs out before the alcohol comes out of him via where it went in from. there are faint footsteps behind him and he might be hallucinating but someone yells his name. his heartbeats and pants are too loud, though.

he rests against a wall and vomits into a drain. spitting indignantly on the floor, he also curses himself for letting kris twirl him into this stupid trance. kris must've seen yixing as a fling. something more than an one-night thing, but just less than what yixing really wants.

stupid, you're stupid.

he looks back at the stupid memories and laughs at his own idiocy.




"happy birthday yixing, happy birthday, you're pathetic." he tells himself when he gets home. no one really asks why he's gotten this drunk but his eyes only spell pain and minseok does the soothing back-rubbing thing again until yixing falls asleep.

yixing stops dirtying clothes and even offers to wash them himself when the others needed cleaning. he avoids the dry cleaners altogether and jongin whines over phone calls—yixing-hyung where are you why aren't you coming over anymore, and yixing only laughs and tell him he's busy with university admission things.

which is quite true, actually. he wants to enrol in an arts module in the nearest university—he can't remember the name but he'll make a visit later.

he's the only one who's applying for a new school this school year so the rest cheers him on and hope for the best.

he drowns his head inside brochures after brochures of information and his friends routinely drop by to give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder or just to tell him good luck—jongin also sits on his bed and annoys him periodically, and as time goes yixing doesn’t even remember kris anymore.


so he probably looks perplexed when he sees kris outside jongin's shop one day, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. yixing only lets out a resentful sigh and attempts to walk away.

"wait," the low baritone of kris' voice almost gets yixing in jitters again. yixing doesn't turn back, but he then remembers kris' legs are long and no matter how big yixing's strides are—kris will catch up, fast.

then he turns back. his breath catches at the back of his throat when the stunningly sharp features of kris' face spins into his view.

"i'm busy," there's nothing on the road, and yixing kicks at nothing. kris only heaves a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his orange hair. "i know no explanation will make that day sound fathomable—but i'm sorry you had to see that."

his orange hair flies beautifully in the sunlight and yixing clenches his fist to stop himself from catching the strands between his fingers. he squints a little. "i… don't want to hear it. it doesn't concern me anymore."

yixing turns to leave but kris' grip on his wrist is tight and unbelievably strong. "i'm sorry." kris' tongue darts out to wet his lips in the wind and yixing blinks, registering the image in his head.

it'd be a lie to say he'd be able to let kris go, but he'd lie for now because it kind of still hurts.

there is absolute silence when yixing walks, brushing his shoulder against kris' arm. the cologne is strong as ever and sinfully sweet and he quickens his speed because he knows if he slows, he'll stop.




jongdae jokingly comments yixing is studying too hard when they sit around in the optician's. yixing slips his new glasses on and fires his imaginary gun at jongdae.

well, indeed yixing is studying. hard. this university he's trying to get in—seoul school of fine arts—has an entrance exam and it isn't even an exam about how good yixing dances. it's solely academic. so yixing studies.

he studies so hard jongin can't even find a blind spot in his schedule and even lu han doesn't bother to probe about kris anymore.

it might've been an incentive for him to forget about kris. that sounds highly impossible, because one day his shelf falls apart and his stupid polaroid films fall out from a box.

yixing crushes one film where kris and yixing smile under the dark sky against a rock bench, and throws the piece of plastic under his bed. his body racks with pants and memories haunt his head.

calculus becomes a very effective way for him to forget.



of course, yixing gets accepted into the school. he'd made new friends—baekhyun, the snarky shortie and he finds out that chanyeol plans to apply for the school too.

lu han wishes him all the best for school and the rest give him i'll miss you hugs. he isn't going anywhere far—just staying in baekhyun's house because it's nearer to the school.


one day baekhyun goes for vocal lessons and yixing decides to do some research on the ballet module he's about to plunge himself in. momentarily he thinks of jongin because that kid used to do ballet when he was young—that never failed to bring a smile on yixing's face because jongin was so tanned. in fact, yixing already finds it amusing how toned jongin is, while running the shop almost half his life.

he strolls into the shared computer room in the neighborhood library and shuts the door behind. he barely plugs his earphones in before the sassy, cocky batch mate kyungsoo makes his way in and rolls his eyes at yixing.

yixing smiles furtively before concentrating on the computer. he's so absorbed in the theoretical methods of the dance and the videos of the graceful performances he doesn't realize kyungsoo goes and someone else comes.

he pauses the loud booming of swan lake in his ears and stretches in his seat, closing his eyes. there's a soft sound beside him and his eyelashes flutter.

kris. he sets two cups of drinks on the table and the aroma is enough to tell yixing that it's coffee. "black and extra sugar for you," he murmurs. yixing coughs and pulls the earbuds away from his ears, taking a sip of the beverage.

neither speaks for what seemed like eternity but kris almost chokes on the coffee and his face turns red with strain. yixing almost laughs.

then yixing's phone rings and zitao rushes through lines and lines of hurried mandarin—yixing barely catches the whole thing but zitao is worried and he misses yixing—though it hadn't even been a week. "i miss you too, taozi, i'll come home soon, i promise."

he slides the phone into his bag in the next second. "can we… start over again?"

for a moment, yixing looks genuinely perplexed. kris' expression is unreadable but his eyes are dark voids of sincerity and guilt.


yixing takes five breaths and meets kris' eyes.

"i'm wufan—nice to meet you."

"i'm yixing."

they shake hands and the adrenaline in yixing never fades away—never. not yet.

"so… you like bitter coffee?" yixing asks after a moment of comfortable silence.

"someone told me to appreciate the sweet things in life," kris—oh no, wufan smirks and lets yixing take a sip of the sweet coffee.



yixing turns the computer off and drags wufan out by his wrist. the warmth spreads around his body and he remembers all of these.


he's pretty sure he likes this.


a/n: i don't know what got into me. now that's pretty serious. i have exams in three days. now that's really serious. the lay/kris tag on sonyeoncheonji barely gets updated. now that is beyond serious.

excuse me while i weep in a pool of my own tears because of this ridiculous thing
also the title is totally irrelevant to the entire fic
i heart you all though ♥
Tags: *fic, f: exo, p: kris/yixing, w: 3000~5000
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