2015: the return of the demon king slayer (and friends!) (for prompt 49)

[onemorechansoo]

Author: ANONYMOUS until July 15, 2015

Title: the return of the demon king slayer (and friends!)
Rating: PG-13
Other pairings involved: very dumb ambiguously platonic Baekhyun/Chen, equally ambiguous Suho/Xiumin
Length: 10,500 words
Summary: ‘the demon king slayer is back to save the world! now with more action and cheesy romance,’ chanyeol types out.
“that’s horrible,” kyungsoo says. “change it.”
“i’m the creator! i do what i want!” chanyeol retorts.
“yes, well,” kyungsoo murmurs as he goes back to his codes, “i’m the main character, so don’t i get a say?”
chanyeol goes red.
Warnings: it takes about 2k words for kyungsoo to appear and i am Sorry ;___;

Notes: i fell in love with this prompt the moment i read it thank you prompter!! in return i hope this is up to your expectations ; v ; sending my regards to c for being there with me as we wrote, s even though i forgot to update you on my progress, and y because i love you

please enjoy!

"So we have this kid who once slayed the demon king, right? Like one of those kids who went on a quest once to save the world? Yeah, so he's all grown up already, like maybe in his twenties or something, when his country suddenly calls him up and is all like, dude, we need you to go save the world again.” Chanyeol clears his throat. “Let's call this guy the Demon King Slayer, yeah? The Demon King Slayer is all like, 'look, I've had enough danger and mayhem to last me a lifetime', right? 'I just wanna live a normal life' and all that," he says, adjusting his tie with fingers that aren't shaking. "But then they're all like, no way man, you're the only one who can do it! We'll even bring in all your old friends, you know, the ones you saved the world with? The gang's all here again! And the DKS is just like, shucks, fine, because he misses his old friends and was also probably going to say yes anyway from the goodness of his heart or something like that, I don’t know, I haven’t decided but yeah! That’s the gist of how it starts!”  His 'creative supervisors' (though still technically colleagues! he has to keep reminding himself) exchange glances. He hopes his face doesn't look too hopeful. Keep it moderate. He fights the urge to slap his cheeks as a booster, settling for doing it mentally instead. "Well," a rosy-cheeked man begins, steepling his fingers together, "it's a start." "Yes," Chanyeol says. "Yes, it is." "It's, well... So far, it seems..." He scrunches up his face like he's searching for the right words to describe what Chanyeol's project currently is. "Er, Junmyeon? Help me out a little?" Junmyeon--Kim Junmyeon, if Chanyeol isn't utterly and completely wrong, flashes a brilliant smile and says, "It certainly was an interesting idea presentation! Wasn't it, Minseok?" Chanyeol feels his stomach fall to somewhere near the underside of his feet. "Is...is that so?" "No, you stupid idiot, the first sunbae hisses, not-so-subtly elbowing Kim Junmyeon in the ribs. "Let me phrase this a different way, Park-sshi. What your idea currently has is a foundation, it has possibility. It has promise. But what it currently doesn't have is anything to show for it." "That's right. Do you have concept sketches, Park-sshi?" Junmyeon says, rubbing his side. "Worldbuilding and map layouts? Any character designs?" "N-not exactly." Chanyeol worries at his lip with his teeth. "But I could get them done easily enough, I think! Really quick, too!" "That's good, that's good," Minseok says absently, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. "That's what we want to see, really, a good set of visuals. A strong plot is always good, but we need stronger visuals to keep the player's attention. You know that don't you, Park-sshi?" "Yes, yes I do, um," Junmyeon is probably already a Kim, so maybe, "Lee-sshi?" "It's Kim too, actually," Kim, Kim Minseok says dryly, but also easily enough that Chanyeol isn't sent immediately into a nervous frenzy. Chanyeol takes this as a good sign. "Are you working on anything else currently?" “Optimisation of graphics in the roguelike Yixing's in charge of," Chanyeol replies automatically. "That should be it until the next stage of development next month." "Excellent!" Kim Junmyeon says, clapping his hands together. "Do you think you could get map and general gameplay drafts to us by next week?" Next week? "W-well, um, general gameplay, maybe, and basic character sketches, hopefully?" Chanyeol says, hopefully. "Alright, then this consultation is over," Kim Minseok says, shuffling his papers into a stack and snapping a rubber band over them. "We'll see you next week." Kim Junmyeon smiles in the genial way Chanyeol's beginning to recognise as his default expression as they make their way out of the conference room. Chanyeol ejects his thumb drive and takes a deep, deep breath. "Oh, Park-sshi?" Chanyeol takes another deep breath to calm his heart and pretends like he hadn't jumped two feet in the air at the voice. "Y-y-yes!" "You can refer to us both as Minseok and Junmyeon, since we're officially your creative supervisors from now on," Minseok says from the door, lips quirking into a small smile. "'Hyung' will be fine." "Oh," says Chanyeol. Oh. "Please call me Chanyeol!" "We look forward to see your work next week, Chanyeol." "And then they were like, 'Call us hyung,' and I was like, holy freaking shit," Chanyeol gushes. "Seriously?! Holy freaking shit," Jongdae echoes empathetically. "Mind filling me in, boys?" Baekhyun asks dryly as he sets his lunch down beside the other two. "Get this," Jongdae says as he picks up his carton of juice. "Our dear Chanyeol here just went for his consult with his superiors, yeah?" "Still colleagues," Chanyeol points out. "Yeah, yeah, same thing." Jongdae waves his hand airily. "And like, they're Minseok and Junmyeon, right?" "Everyone knows about Minseok and Junmyeon's new protegé, you don't have to tell me that." "Well, now he's actually their protegé, as in, it's no longer a joke." Jongdae takes a long sip of his juice for dramatic effect, and Baekhyun taps the table irritably with his finger as he waits for Jongdae to be done. "They told him to call them seniors," Jongdae finally finishes. Baekhyun immediately flings a cherry tomato out of his salad and into Chanyeol's face. Chanyeol, being Chanyeol, lets out a wail of despair as it bounces feebly off his face and lands neatly in his plate. "What'd you do that for?" "I'm trying to desensitise you, stupid." Baekhyun perches his chin on one perfectly manicured hand. "You're still technically a rookie around these parts, so if anyone's who's been around longer than you finds out about this, you can be certain you'll be getting much more than a baby tomato in your face." "It's called a cherry tomato," Jongdae adds helpfully. "Honey, sugar, cherie, whatever," Baekhyun dismisses. "Jongdae and I will watch your back for you though. Probably. Maybe. Right, Jongdae?" "Uh, yeah? I don't know, bro. What's your schedule looking like, think you can shove an extra 'looking after an overgrown kid' in it?" "Hey, now," Chanyeol says. "I might have, like, half an hour between my pedicure session and my hair appointment, but he might ruin my 'do with his mixture of inherent clumsiness and stupidity, so it's a no from me." "HEY!" Jongdae doubles over laughing, and Chanyeol sends him a sad little glance. "Of course we'll watch your back," Jongdae chokes out, wiping at his eyes. "We're your friends, it's what we do." "As Jongdae so sappily put it," Baekhyun drawls, "yes, we're here for you. So go out there and slay with whatever game you’re going to be making, okay? You've got this." Chanyeol has never felt so motivated in all his life. Chanyeol has never felt so demoralised in all his life. He'd lined his landscape sketches up before him and he actually likes them, is actually proud of his work, of the soft hills and gentle streams of the early levels and the frosty mountains and rushing rivers of some later ones. He's proud of how he's rendered the skies and oceans, and his second pitch would be almost fully prepared for presentation, if not for one thing. "WAAARGH!" Chanyeol screeches as he hurls yet another substandard character design into the wastepaper basket across his room. "Be quiet," his roommate says from behind his textbook. "Unlike some people, I actually need to study." "Well, I'm doing work!" Chanyeol gets up, stalks over to the basket and begins stomping on the paper inside. "Very important work!" Sehun lifts his eyes from his page to stare wordlessly at Chanyeol's angry foot for half a second before going back to his biology. "Yup." "You're! Not! Helping!" Chanyeol yells, each word enunciated with a single stomp. "If you want help, why don't you ask Yixing?" He sighs. "He's spearheading a whole entire project." "Fine. Jongdae or Baekhyun?" "They're busier than I am." Chanyeol plops sadly down beside the wastepaper basket. Sehun sighs. "Then why don't you play more of those games of yours for inspiration?" "But I've been doing exactly that! Look, look at this!" Chanyeol begins rummaging through the balls of paper in the wastepaper basket, sending stray ones flying everywhere. "This one!" he yells triumphantly as he pulls a crumpled piece of paper from all the debris. "See this?" "Yeah," Sehun says, squinting at the piece of paper from the sofa."I'm almost certain this is sketch of Cloud from Final Fantasy." "Now look at this one!" "Link from Zelda?" "And this one here!" "That’s...Ash Ketchum." "Yeah!" All papers are shoved back into the basket with more than a touch of ire. "You know what they all have in common?" "They all went on a journey as part of the plot?" Sehun crosses his arms. "Wrong! Okay, that's an important point too, but for the sake of this discussion, wrong!" Chanyeol points at Sehun in an attempt to be imposing but ends up mostly succeeding in making himself look like a petulant five-year-old. "They all have spiky hair!" Sehun turns wordlessly back to his book. "Don't ignore me! Look, I'm serious, okay! It just...doesn't fit with my impression of this protagonist, you know?" The desk chair from Chanyeol's room drags noisily as he pulls it out into the living room and sits himself on it. "He doesn't feel right with spiky hair, he's. He's not a hot-blooded fighter, or someone who acts impulsively. He'll think it out before he does anything, he didn't get through his first quest on blind luck and by just smashing things. He thinks. And definitely doesn't have spiky hair, because I've played enough games and read enough articles to know that spiky haired protagonists have a high chance of, you know, not thinking." There is a silence. "You sure know your protagonist well, don't you Chanyeol?" Sehun quips. “Are you implying something?” Chanyeol snaps, a little too sharply. Putting his book down gingerly, Sehun steeples his fingers and regards Chanyeol the way he would a cat that had climbed up a tree and couldn’t get itself down. “I’m going to give you a very important piece of advice, Chanyeol,” he says, “So you might want to pay attention.” “Uh, right.” Chanyeol furrows his eyebrows. “I’m listening?” “Follow your heart,” Sehun says. “I can’t be bothered to get up to poke you in the chest to make my point, but surely that’s simple enough to get through your thick skull.” “Such a rude child. No respect towards your elders.” “Like I was saying, it’s your first big project. You might as well make it yours.” Sehun lowers his eyes back down to his book, and flips a page. “Forget looking at other games. You sound like you have something inside you already. You just need to listen.” They share a thoughtful silence as Sehun goes back to his reading, and Chanyeol scribbles a little on his notepad. “You’re a freaking genius, Oh Sehun,” Chanyeol grins. “Glad to know speaking sense equals intelligence now,” Sehun snarks, but he’s smiling anyway, and Chanyeol marks it down in his head as score one for him, score three hundred and thirty-two for Sehun. It’s a start. The morning of his second meeting with the eccentric mentors—his eccentric mentors, now—he wakes up with drool on his keyboard and a string of code interrupted with an uncouth ‘ffgggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’. He rubs groggily at his face, knocking over two empty Red Bulls and one coffee can to the ground, fixes and saves his work, scans quickly through his work emails detailing some nonsense about a new intern and a new coffee machine, then opens his 3D modelling program. He stares. “You’re joking,” Chanyeol says. Finder > Documents > the dks! > mc references > the bestest of bros!!!!! Chanyeol stares at the images in the folder, then at his work. Then at the images again. “Fuck,” he says, with feeling. “Um, what’s with the sunglasses?” Junmyeon asks with some concern in his voice. “Red Bull hangover,” Chanyeol mumbles, adjusting his shades self-consciously. A sagely, understanding nod. “Ah, yes.” “Wow,” Minseok exhales, flipping back and forth between the slides showcasing Chanyeol’s work—a thin bridge hanging between two cliff faces, a lush blue-hued forest with camouflaged dryads, a pair of reptilian eyes glowing from the depths of a cave. “I finally understand why Soo Man spoke so highly of y—” “Shh! Minseok! That was a confidential meeting,” Junmyeon hisses. “Whatever, seriously, I don’t care,” Minseok waves his hand in Junmyeon’s face. “This is some decent work, though I can’t see much of the story in it yet. But I can feel the atmosphere you’re going for, which is a start.” Chanyeol can’t help himself from puffing up a little with pride. “Thank you very much, Minseok-hyung!” “But don’t get too excited yet.” Minseok shuffles Chanyeol’s gameplay notes in his hands. “You’re not getting anywhere with the gameplay. It’s reading just like any other fantasy RPG, stats and weapons and potions and craftables. If you want to follow the classic RPG route, that’s fine, but we’ll need to be seeing some truly stellar visuals if you want to catch any potential player’s interest.” “Oh.” He fiddles with his pen. “I understand.” “Don’t be discouraged already,” Junmyeon pipes up. “You’re just starting! And this is your first big chance, so don’t let it slip away so fast, Chanyeol. Plus, now you’re already feeling the heartbeat of the game.” Junmyeon places his palm on the sheaf of papers Chanyeol’s handed to him. “We can feel it too. “I wouldn’t put it in those exact words, Junmyeon. But true..” Minseok peers critically at a pink post-it on the small sheaf of papers. “What’s this about the main character’s design? Can we take a look?” Junmyeon nods approvingly. “Characters can make or break a game, of course. What does he look like?” “Oh no, he’s not done yet,” Chanyeol breezes. “I do have some concepts for his companions, though! They’re a bit further back beyond the environment sketches...yes, there! Um, let me explain how they’re significant to the story…” The Eccentric Mentor Duo vacates the conference room quickly, as usual, and Chanyeol glances at the booked time slots for the room itself. Free for general use until a meeting for Yixing’s project in twenty minutes, which he needs to be at anyway, so he might as well hang about for a bit. In less than a minute he’s got his laptop hooked up to the projector and his hastily thrown-together slides up on the big white screen. “And here I present to you,” he says grandiosely to the empty room, “The Return Of The Demon King Slayer! No, this isn’t a sequel to any other franchise, it’s a stand-alone game all on its own, but with a twist that’s sure to pique the interest of anyone’s who’s ever been forced into work they didn’t want to do, or who’ve had to sacrifice themselves for the ‘Greater Good’. “And behold! The visage of our great hero, who chooses to be known only as the DKS!” He turns to face his handiwork, displayed in terrifying high quality on the projector screen, despite the image being blown up to twenty times its actual size on the computer screen. Chanyeol exhales slowly. “What a strange, strange man he is, so mundane yet so peculiarly heroic, and for what reason? What is his history with the slain Demon King? No one seems to know, apart from his troupe of loyal friends who set out again on this new quest to save the world. Play the game, visit this world, solve the mystery. Help me solve his mystery.” Chanyeol can’t stop staring at the face on the screen. “This has been, and if all goes well, will continue attempting to be—” He forces himself to turn away and towards the room again, “—The Return Of The Demon King Slayer.” There’s a small man staring at him from the entrance, mouth parted in a small ‘o’ of surprise. Chanyeol reflexively files the memory away in his head for later experimentation with his character model. “Um,” Do Kyungsoo says. “Why is my face on that screen, Park Chanyeol?” “Chanyeol?” “Y-yes! Yes, it’s me Chanyeol, how may I help you? Yes!” Chanyeol babbles as he snaps his head away from his computer screen to the source of the sound. “I was just about to ask if you were feeling tense,” Zhang Yixing says with more than a tinge of amusement in his voice, “But I suppose that question’s been answered for me. The beanbag room is supposed to be a place of relaxation and quiet, and your face isn’t exactly the picture of serenity.” Chanyeol ducks his head to hide his embarrassment. “Sorry, hyung.” “No need to be sorry, Chanyeol.” He perches himself on a baby pink beanbag beside Chanyeol’s favourite obnoxiously purple one, and dimples gently at him. “If you don’t mind my asking, has something happened? You do seem very distracted, apart from just being tense, and you are helping me with my project. I’d like to help too.” Chanyeol takes a couple breaths and regards the kindly Chinese man. “You’re like, a super cool and talented and hardworking person, but I don’t think this is something you can help with, hyung.” “You’d be surprised.” Yixing crosses his arms. “Hyung has seen a lot more shit than you have, and could potentially know something about your problem. And talking always helps a person feel better.” “Fine,” Chanyeol sighs. “But you might wanna sit down for this.” “I am already sitting,” Yixing points out. “Okay.” Chanyeol stares straight on at Yixing and takes a breath. “Okay. So, you know the company’s let me start some project on my own for some reasons that I’m not supposed to know, or at least that’s what Junmyeon-hyung and Minseok-hyung have been telling me, but I was having trouble thinking of what the main character should look like, but then my roommate gave me inspiration and I got so motivated I tried to pull an all-nighter even though I’m horrible without any sleep and turns out I’d put the face of someone I knew back in school as the face of my main character. While I was drunk on Red Bull. And now he’s here interning and I accidentally showed him the entire thing and I’ve never been more embarrassed in all my life.” “Hm,” Yixing says. “Wow,” he adds as an afterthought. “Yeah, same feel,” Chanyeol groans as he drops his hand into his hands. “What am I going to do now?” “I have an idea,” Yixing says. Chanyeol sits back up and stares at Yixing. “You do? Does it involve resigning from this company to hide my shame?” “No,” Yixing says simply. “It involves you explaining the situation to the person in question, who I believe is currently standing at the entrance of this room.” “Oh.” Chanyeol says. “Is he looking at me?” “Yes.” “Fuck” “Watch your damned language, Chanyeol,” Yixing says pleasantly as he vacates his seat. “Now, I trust you not to spontaneously combust if he talks to you?” “Yes, sir,” Chanyeol mutters begrudgingly. Yixing beams at Chanyeol, then gets up and off of his beanbag and dusts down his well-tailored pants, waving as he leaves. Almost immediately Chanyeol sees the powder pink beanbag being shoved unceremoniously aside in favour of a dark grey one. “You’re still into monochrome?” Chanyeol blurts out. Do Kyungsoo settles himself down into the beanbag and cocks an eyebrow. “What, did you think I was in an emo goth phase? Black, white and greys are easy to work with, Park Chanyeol. But you wouldn’t know that.” Chanyeol follows Kyungsoo’s gaze first to his bright purple beanbag and next to the mess of neons on his laptop screen. “Point taken.” He drops his own gaze to his cuticles. “So, uh, what brings you here?” “This is an area for all staff, right? Are interns not allowed in here? They didn’t really mention my access to a room full of beanbags in the briefing.” “Um, yeah, I think interns are, since it’s for all employees. But, uh, I meant like, why are you here right now? I thought you were somewhere in the next city, with another company.” “I was,” Kyungsoo agrees. “But I should be the one asking the questions here, shouldn’t I? Chanyeol gulps. Kyungsoo snaps the cap off a bottle of water and takes a sip. “Alright, let’s start easy.” He raises a single finger. “Question one. Why was my face on the screen in that conference room?” “It’s, u-um, a really long story!” Chanyeol says cheerily. “Surely—” “I’m calling bullshit. I’m pretty sure you explained it to that stoned guy just now in like one long sentence and two short ones.” “Yixing’s not stoned, that’s just his usual expression. Why are you so rude? And why were you listening!” Kyungsoo shrugs. “Not that I wanted to listen, really. It’s a small room.” “Wait,” Chanyeol says suspiciously. “If you heard that much, then why are you asking me again?” Kyungsoo shrugs for the second time in ten seconds. “Wanted to hear you say it yourself, but since we’re already at this point we can probably skip that question. Okay, next.” Kyungsoo raises a second finger. “Question two: why were you pitching your nonexistent game to an empty room?” “Alright, I was bored,” Chanyeol says sheepishly, “And no one was supposed to show up there for like half an hour anyway. Why the hell were you there?” “Got lost, wanted directions. Are we playing Twenty Questions?” The same old snark. It taste familiar, sharp on Chanyeol’s tongue. “Why are you here? At this company?” “Hey, what’s that?” Kyungsoo checks his watch, a slim, elegant strip across his wrist. “Oops, seems like I have an interns’ briefing in two minutes. Busy, busy. Gotta go, see you around!” “Do Kyungsoo! You come back here, you...you jerk!” Chanyeol yells uselessly at Kyungsoo’s back as he calmly gets out of his beanbag and retreats quickly out of the beanbag room as Chanyeol’s still struggling to stop drowning in his own beanbag. Curse the easy, inviting comfort of beanbag chairs. He gives up and spreads himself out on it with a sigh. “You’re my favourite, Chaerin,” he tells the beanbag. “You would never betray me.” “Chanyeol?” Chanyeol shrieks and tries to throw himself off his beanbag, but succeeding to fall back down and hurt his back with the failed momentum instead. “Don’t do that, Hyung! Move like a normal person, you know, with footsteps and stuff!” “I see the conversation went well,” Yixing smiles.”Now, back to work with you. Those ships aren’t going to recolour themselves.” Chanyeol picks up his stylus and spins it easily in his hand. “Yes, sir,” he salutes. The pasta on his plate is drenched in thick tomato and mincemeat sauce. It should look delicious, but it resembles an inedible mess to Chanyeol. He taps his fork on the plate, and it makes a satisfying little ting as metal strikes porcelain. ting ting ting tingting “Didn’t Mama teach you not to play with your food?” Baekhyun chides, setting his salad down next to Chanyeol. “Didn’t know you were ‘Mama’ now.” Jongdae puts down his bowl of ramen and slides into the seat opposite Chanyeol, then slurps up a steaming noodle. “Mind if we sit here?” he asks, mid-chew. “As if you’d leave even if I did mind,” Chanyeol sighs. Jongdae grins like the Cheshire. “You’ve got that right. Baekhyun, why the hell are you eating salad? Today’s fish and chips day. You on a diet or some shit?” “Sure. My nose is looking a little fat.” Jongdae snorts so hard he starts coughing. Chanyeol laughs, and his lunch looks a lot more like carbohydrates than cardboard. “May I sit here?” Do Kyungsoo stands there, dressed in a smart pullover and button-up shirt, with a large plate of carbonara pasta on his tray. Baekhyun and Jongdae, on the other hand, are gaping unceremoniously at him. “Hey, Jongdae. Jongdae, look,” Baekhyun says, slapping Jongdae lightly in the face. “Is that who I’m looking at?” “Baekhyun, hit me harder. I think I’m dreaming.” He adjusts the fake glasses on his face and stares, unabashedly. “This isn’t who I think it is, is it?” “Enough with the stand-up comedy routine,” Kyungsoo says, sounded tired, but amused. “It’s me, I’m working here as an intern, big surprise. Now can I sit down to eat?” Kyungsoo sits himself down onto the seat beside Jongdae, but Jongdae barely waits half a second for Kyungsoo’s tray to settle safely down onto the table before dragging him down for a good old noogie to the head. Kyungsoo makes a loud noise of protest, trying to fight Jongdae off half-heartedly with his fists, but anyone who’s spent enough with Jongdae know there’s no laugh less infectious, and Kyungsoo’s known him for a long time. They all have, really. “So, what’s brought you here, to our humble little company?” Baekhyun coos. “Weren’t you picked up by those people, before you even graduated? That was like, how long ago? Ages, almost.” He shakes his head with a smile. “Two years isn’t an eternity, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo replies, picking out the meat in his food. “In fact, it’s a very, very short time, so I have no idea what you’re going for, here.” “Aw, play along, won’t you? Man, you’re no fun to tease at all. Besides, you know exactly what I'm going for.” Baekhyun finishes the last of his lettuce and sets the bowl aside. Jongdae shoots him a look. “Don’t go there, Baekhyun.” “Huh? What? No!” Baekhyun looks horrified. “I just wanted to know why here, you know? Of all the companies? Jeez, I’m not the one who needs to watch his words all of the time, speak for yourself!” “Anyone would join this company,” Kyungsoo says with a wry smile. “I mean, it has a room full of beanbags. What's to hate?” “Why do oou fink I’m here,” Jongdae mumbles through a mouthful of ramen. “And, even though it’s small, it has potential. Or at least that one gaming magazine said so,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “Aaaaand?” Baekhyun drawls. “And what?” “Nothing else? No other reason you’re here? Really? Be honest to yourself, Do Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun points his fork at Kyungsoo’s chest. “Tell the truth!” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes so hard Chanyeol’s almost afraid they’ll roll back into his head. “Fine,” he says. “And also because you’re all here. Are you happy now?” “Aw, you’re my best bro too!” Jongdae sings, trying to throw his arms around the smaller man but earning himself a fist to the face instead. “Ow, my nose!” Kyungsoo laughs, laughs his full proper heart-shaped smile, and Chanyeol hasn’t seen in it so long that he stares, stares until Kyungsoo catches his eye with a questioning glance and Chanyeol can’t bring himself to say anything apart from a half-hearted, “I’m glad you’re here.” “Me too,” Kyungsoo says, without breaking eye contact. “Me too.” For once, Chanyeol’s actually feeling the urge to work in an environment not entirely dictated by fun and chaos (i.e. the beanbag room), and removes the little sign on his desk reading ‘Look for Park Chanyeol in the beanbag room! >:P’ , placing it into one of his desk drawers instead. He boots up his laptop and it greets him with its cheery startup tune. Chanyeol gives it an affectionate little pat on its monitor. “I’m back, honey,” he tells the laptop. “You never said that to me,” Kyungsoo’s voice says from behind him. “I’ve been jumpscared so many times today my heart rate doesn’t even increase anymore,” Chanyeol groans. “Why are you here?” “Uh, I understand you’re...’working on a personal project potentially beneficial to the company’s interests?’” Kyungsoo regards the sheet on paper in his hand critically. “And management believes it would be good for me to lend my efforts to this project, while I’m here.” “No one told me anything about an assistant!” Chanyeol interjects. “Watch who you’re calling an assistant, Park,” Kyungsoo says, glaring. “They said they emailed you about it.” “I never got any...oh. Oh, I see it.” “Good. Now, can I get some work to do before I snap your neck from boredom, boss?” Kyungsoo crosses his arms. “Uh, you might wanna sit down for this. Grab Hakyeon’s chair, I don’t think he’s in today.” Chanyeol clears his throat as Kyungsoo drags the spare chair over and sits down. “So. What I’m doing now is some animation of the character’s movements.” “Are you done with the graphics for the model?” Kyungsoo cranes his neck, trying to get a good look at the laptop. “Because if you’re done with the graphics, I can finish that up for you.” “Which would be great, if you did! But, um, except for one little problem.” Kyungsoo narrows his eyes. “And what’s that?” Chanyeol sighs, picks up his laptop and passes it to Kyungsoo. “It’s the DKS’s model.” Kyungsoo stares at his doppelganger on the screen. His face twitches a little. “What’re all these animations at the side?” “Uh, wait! Don’t look at those!” Chanyeol makes a desperate grab for his laptop, but Kyungsoo’s already whisked it out of his arm’s reach. “No, give it back!” Kyungsoo gets off of his chair, quickly backstepping away from Chanyeol while maneuvering around other desks and chairs, all with his eyes still glued to the screen. A couple of Chanyeol’s other colleagues throw them curious glances as they zigzag all about the office. He throws them apologetic glances. “I’ve got you now!” Chanyeol yells as he seemingly corners Kyungsoo, then realises the latter hasn’t even been moving. He also realises they’re back at his desk. Kyungsoo lifts his gaze from the laptop to stare seriously at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol feels something seize up in his gut. “These are really good,” Kyungsoo says. “How long did you take to do these?” “U-uh,” Chanyeol stutters out, “maybe about a week? On and off.” Kyungsoo turns back to the laptop. Chanyeol feels his entire body relax considerably, at least until Kyungsoo smiles, softly, at the screen. “You’ve really improved,” Kyungsoo says. Chanyeol’s not sure if he’s speaking to him or the laptop. “I was wrong. Two years is a lot of time.” “Thank...you…?” “Look at this.” He plays the animation ‘laugh’, and pseudo-Kyungsoo throws back his head and laughs a hearty, if silent, roar. ‘angry’ has his face screw up in frustration, brows furrowed at some unseen aggravator, and ‘sad’ causes his eyes to close, and tears fall quietly down his face. “This is amazing work, Chanyeol.” Chanyeol shrugs. “It’s not perfect.” It's generic. It acts nothing like you. “That doesn’t make it any less impressive on a week’s worth of animation work.” “...Thank you.” Chanyeol’s not entirely sure how to react. “High praise, from the class’ best coder.” Kyungsoo is silent. Chanyeol prises the laptop away from Kyungsoo’s hands. “Does this mean you don’t think I’m a creepy weirdo for putting your face on it?” “Of course I think you’re a creepy weirdo,” Kyungsoo scoffs. “But people base characters off the faces of real people all the time, so I’ll let it slide if you…” Chanyeol squints suspiciously at him. “If I what?” “If you take me out for dinner tomorrow.” He seems to greatly enjoy the incredulous look on Chanyeol’s face. “What, living alone in the big city, but you’re still too broke to feed someone?” “I have a roommate, actually, but—seriously? You’re okay with that?” “I’m not adverse to free food, no,” Kyungsoo says, dryly. “That’s not what I mean—” “—I know what you mean.” He taps his finger on the laptop. “But I’ve gotten sort of attached to this little guy. Sort of like uncanny valley, but in an endearing way?” “That’s reassuring,” Chanyeol snarks back on impulse. Kyungsoo shoots him a lopsided grin. “So do you want me to work on myself, or is there anything else you want a hand with?” “Oh, man.” Chanyeol pulls up a second file. “Hand me your hard disk, you’re going to love this.” “Is that... Jongdae? With a ponytail?” Kyungsoo laughs, laughs, a short bark of amusement. “Did you think, ‘hey, I’ve already turned Kyungsoo into a fantasy character, might as well do everyone else?’” Chanyeol grins from ear to ear. “He’s going to be one of the DKS’s old party members. And I want you to make him cry.” Kyungsoo rolls up his sleeves and smiles, a diabolical little one Chanyeol still has an impression of, still recalls from two years ago. “It would be my pleasure.” Chanyeol’s about to doze off on his beanbag chair when a yellow post-it note is shoved into his face. He splutters in shock and flails wildly, throwing himself off and onto the carpet, where he recognises his own handwriting and the words ‘hey kyungsoo! i’m in the beanbag room ;))’ “Good morning,” Kyungsoo tells him. “Don’t any normal people exist in this company?” Chanyeol muses. “Not if you want us to produce any decent work, no.” Kyungsoo drags over his dark grey beanbag and settles into it, folding his legs and putting his Macbook on his lap. “I’m done with pseudo-Jongdae’s expressions. Do you want to take a look?” “Hell yeah! I haven’t seen your stuff in ages, I need to see this.” Kyungsoo looks on worriedly as Chanyeol goes through the animation files. “What do you think? I haven’t touched the software in a long while, so I’m more than a little rusty with the controls.” Chanyeol shakes his head silently. Kyungsoo’s face falls. “Chill out!” Chanyeol laughs, slapping Kyungsoo’s arm. “I really need to up my damn game, this is some pretty good stuff!” He earns a weak smile and an averted gaze from Kyungsoo. He’s not sure if that’s all good, but the soft flush creeping up Kyungsoo’s neck definitely is. “Right, enough about me,” he says, gently retrieving his laptop from Chanyeol’s hands. “What did you get done?” Chanyeol scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Okay, so I didn’t really get anything new done, I just… fine tuned some things that were bothering me. Nothing really of importance.” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. “Really.” “...Yes, really.” Shaking his head, Kyungsoo turns his gaze to his own laptop. “You’re still the worst liar I know, but fine. I’ll let you off on this one.” “What’s to let off if I never even did anything wrong?!” Chanyeol wails. “Yak yak yak, you’re noisy. Get to work.” Huffing to himself, Chanyeol mumbles, “Who’s the one in charge here?” “Excuse me?” “Nothing!” It’s about over an hour later, when Chanyeol’s so engrossed in his work he’s begun to block out all the sights and sounds around him, that Kyungsoo’s hand snakes out and nicks Chanyeol’s laptop from right under his fingers. “Alright, what’s this?” “Kyungsoo, no!” Chanyeol cries. “You can’t just do this to me!” “Is this...game-me? Why is he kneeling?” “He’s about to fall over, actually,” Chanyeol corrects. “This is the death animation?!” Kyungsoo gapes. Chanyeol panics. “How? Where? How did you tell? I didn’t do anything yet!” “It’s in your file name. Look, it says ‘DKS_DEATH’. Very uplifting.” “Don’t question my file names, don’t you know that’s rude,” Chanyeol mutters. “Now I’m interested to see how you’ll kill me,” Kyungsoo says, handing the laptop back to Chanyeol. “Go on, finish it.” “Why are you so bossy? I’m not killing you in front of...you. I refuse!” Kyungsoo rests his chin on his hands. “Why? What’s the problem? Is this some sort of heroic thing? Because I’m pretty sure if I’m the hero here, you should be the villain.” “What? Why?” “I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says, shrugging. “You would probably look good in horns and a long cape.” Chanyeol mulls this over. “Yeah. Yeah, I probably would.” “Yes, so please get to killing me already.” “You can’t just say that so casually! People might misunderstand. Fine, just—just give me a second.” Chanyeol turns around ten minutes later and all but thrusts his laptop into Kyungsoo’s hands. “Happy now?” Pseudo-Kyungsoo appears to be stabbed by an invisible sword, jerking backwards with the momentum of the movement. The sword is pulled out, and pseudo-Kyungsoo falls to his knees before collapsing gracelessly face first to the ground. They both stare at it in silence. “I’m not sure if I’m uncomfortable with this or not,” Kyungsoo says. “I feel like I just committed murder.” Chanyeol looks at his hands. “Will this blood ever wash off?” “I know someone who knows someone who might know of a good handwash,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “Good, because I don’t like losing my appetite, especially if I’m going to take you out for dinner later. It’ll be like...old times.” Chanyeol blinks up at Kyungsoo from his his lashes. “I am, right?” “You promised, not me.” Kyungsoo stares at his screen as he types on his keyboard. “Where are we going?” Chanyeol leans back on Chaerin the beanbag chair and grins. “You’re gonna love it.” Right now, Chanyeol has maybe two favourite places in the whole world—the beanbag room at work, and the Let’s Love cafe. If his instagram weren’t already filled with snapshots of updates on his work, it would probably just be heavily filtered photos of every single drink on the menu. They make the best brownies. By God, they make the best brownies. “I am telling you, this place has the best brownies,” Chanyeol gushes as he pushes open the door to the cafe, nodding to the girl behind the counter. “I tried them one day and I’m gone. A goner. I’m never going anywhere near a normal brownie again. It’s like getting a taste of ambrosia,” he says as he settles into his usual booth. “You’re an addict. You never go back, and nothing else matches up to it.” “This is getting pretty dark for a recommendation on sweet treats,” Kyungsoo comments as he puts his lightly soaked umbrella into a plastic bag. “Do they have anything with cheese?” “Of course they do! What do you think this place is, some lame old cake shop?” Chanyeol wraps his hand around Kyungsoo's wrist as he drags him out of the booth and toward the counter. “I’m about to give you an education. Hey Tiffany! You’re looking great today, as usual.” “Mm-hmm, whatever you say, mister sweet talker. I don’t care what occasion it is today, but you’re not getting any free food from me.” Tiffany tilts her head and smiles curiously at Kyungsoo. “And who’s this?” “An old friend,” Chanyeol says as Kyungsoo reaches out his hand for a polite shake, but gets hit with a high-five from Tiffany instead. He’d been practicing this conversation with Tiffany since last evening, and everything is going to go as planned. He is so sure. “We met back in school, but he got snatched up for his talent before we even graduated.” “I wouldn’t say I’m talented,” Kyungsoo says. “Just a hard worker.” Exactly as he thought Kyungsoo would sa— “—if you’re looking for talented, you already know Chanyeol.” Chanyeol widens his eyes at Tiffany. Abort mission! Unexpected line! ABORT! Tiffany blinks slowly back at him. It’s a tiny useless derail, don’t get your knickers in a twist. “So, what would the two of you like to eat? I do already know Chanyeol, so I already know he’s spewed rainbows and kittens about our brownies. Which arepretty good, I’ll have you know.” “Eh, brownies are available all the time,” Chanyeol says, waving his hand dismissively. “Anything special you got today?” “A special something for a special someone?” Tiffany singsongs, raising one eyebrow. Chanyeol is about to have a meltdown. THIS IS NOT WHAT WE DISCUSSED, TIFFANY Kyungsoo chuckles a little. “I’m sure I’m no one.” He doesn’t look at Chanyeol. “Do you have anything with cheese?” Tiffany stares a little at Chanyeol in alarm before turning her marketing up to full blast on Kyungsoo. “You’re in luck today. We’ve got our sandwich special on the menu, where you get all the usual suspects plus a taste of salmon, some meatballs, topped off with beautifully melted cheddar cheese. What do you think? Sound good?” “You had me at the word ‘cheddar’, so I’m all for this. Chanyeol?” “Wh—huh? Y-yeah, of course! Why are you asking me? You already know I’m eating like fifteen brownies for dinner.” “Unfortunately. Thank you, Tiffany.” “Anytime, Do-sshi. Any friend of Chanyeol’s who sasses him out all the time is a friend of mine. Drop by whenever you like, okay?” “Sure.” Chanyeol turns to Tiffany as they head back to their booth, and the entirety of her pretty face is frowning in concern. Good luck, she mouths. Thanks, he mouths back. Laughter. Shared drinks, cups of bubble tea passed around like shots, stories swapped like penny candy. Jongdae and Baekhyun would swagger off, always in their own world, just the two of them. Chanyeol used to be jealous of what they had, but when he looked at Kyungsoo he knew what he had would always be infinitely better. “What’s up?” Kyungsoo says. Chanyeol feels his eyes crinkle up into a smile before his mind even acknowledges the action. “Thinking about you,” he says. Kyungsoo laughs, a real, genuine one. “But I’m right here.” They say women are most beautiful on their wedding day. Chanyeol thinks his Kyungsoo is the most beautiful when lit with a sunset to his left and the river to his right, all framed with drizzle clouds. “I know,” he says. Kyungsoo’s arm curls around his neck, and pulls him down so he can kiss him. A pickle hits Chanyeol in the face before bouncing off and landing on the table. “Ew,” Chanyeol says, and wipes the goo off his cheek with his hand. “Stop zoning out and finish your food, I’m already done eating,” Kyungsoo scolds. “I don’t have much of an appetite,” Chanyeol says. “Wanna go for a walk?” “Walking off the calories right after you ingest them? I like how you think.” Kyungsoo gathers his things, eyes the light drizzle outside and picks up his umbrella. “I’ll need you to lead me around, though. I’m not familiar with this area anymore.” “I’m not going to push you in the stream or anything, so don’t stress.” Kyungsoo looks up at him as he nods to Tiffany as they leave the cafe. “The stream?” “What we used to call the river. It’s on the way to the train station. You’ll know when we get there.” It’s a short walk to the shallow canal in the centre of the city, and by then the streets are lit only by street lamps and the warm light of an Irish-styled pub. A couple strolls by, accompanied by the pattering feet of two small children. “It’s definitely smaller than I remembered,” Kyungsoo says. “That’s why we call it the stream now,” Chanyeol replies. He kicks his sneakers aside, rolling up his pant legs before sitting down on the edge of the canal and dipping his feet in. “Maybe we’re grown up now, and everything looks smaller. Or it’s always been this small, and we never noticed because we were still kids.” Kyungsoo doesn’t take off his shoes, but sits down cross-legged beside Chanyeol instead, staring into the swirling waters of the stream. “Are you sure we’re grown up now? I still feel like I’m going to mess up any moment, and everyone will leave me when I do.” The water is cold, but the summer night air is still humid, and it’s a welcome relief as Chanyeol kicks his feet about in the water. Splash, splash. Just like back then. “But that’s the thing about being grown up,” Chanyeol says. “It feels like you can’t do anything wrong at all, but you probably make more mistakes the older you get. BIgger ones, too.” The fabric of his pants are getting damp now, but he doesn’t care. “We didn’t leave, Kyungsoo. You did.” Kyungsoo is quiet for a little while. Then he takes off his shoes and socks and sticks his feet into the stream. “I did,” Kyungsoo says. “I thought it was the right thing to do. No one could say for sure, but at the time, it didn’t even feel like it could have been a mistake.” “Did you regret it?” Kyungsoo laughs his short bark of amusement, except it doesn’t feel like he’s finding anything funny right now. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Obviously, I regretted something.” Chanyeol looks up at the sky, and there are clouds streaking past the silver of the moon. He hopes that doesn’t mean even more rain. He’s so sick of grey, waterlogged days. “Me?” Kyungsoo finally turns to look at him. “No,” he says plainly. “I never regretted you.” “Hoo, boy,” Chanyeol says, shuddering theatrically. “That’s so sappy. I never thought you were the sappy type.” “Liar, you know exactly what type I am. Anyway, you did sappy well enough for the both of us, you disgusting kid.” “I’m older than you,” Chanyeol points out. “So—what the hell does all this mean? Why are you suddenly saying this, now?” Kyungsoo sighs deeply. “Do you actually not know, or do you just want me to say it out loud?” “Oh, you know me,” Chanyeol breezes. “I’m slow as a snail on the uptake. You have to spell everything out for me, or have you forgotten?” Kyungsoo swings his legs out of the stream and gets to his feet. Droplets of water splash to the concrete, painting it a darker shade of grey. “Park Chanyeol!” Kyungsoo yells down at him. “Y-y-yes!” Chanyeol shrieks back in indignance. “Will you—!” Kyungsoo pauses, and visibly calms himself. “Will you, and in extension Baekhyun and Jongdae, give me...a second chance.” He looks down at his hands. “I don’t know if I deserve it, but I need it. I really do.” When he meets Chanyeol’s gaze again, his eyes are a clear shade of brown he hasn’t remembered seeing for years. A shade of brown he’s not sure he even wanted to see again, all those years back. He just hopes the way he takes Kyungsoo’s cold fingers and laces his own through them is answer enough. “Alright, I’m almost done. I just need one last piece of information,” Chanyeol says to Kyungsoo, who’s perched atop Chanyeol’s desk with his laptop like a hardworking penguin, laying out maps and spawn points for monsters. “What’re you done with?” Kyungsoo asks and leans over to peer at Chanyeol’s screen. “What’s this?” “Hold up. Stay right there.” Chanyeol holds up a hand, and Kyungsoo goes back to a sitting position, visibly bemused. “Okay. What’s seventy-five times twenty-three?” “Uh.” Kyungsoo’s face goes slack as he thinks, and Chanyeol stares critically at him for a few moments. “I got it! Thanks, Kyungsoo, go back to doing whatever,” he says. “What exactly was the meaning of—” A yelled “HEY! KYUNGSOO!” is all the notice they get before Jongdae comes careening into the office and throws himself onto Kyungsoo. Naturally, Kyungsoo greatly rejects this sudden expected show of skinship, trying to shove Jongdae’s face away from him. “We’re taking Kyungsoo out for brunch,” Baekhyun tells Chanyeol. “Just the three of us, men to man.” “And what does that make me?” Chanyeol asks irritably. “A very good friend,” Baekhyun says consolingly, patting Chanyeol amicably on the shoulder as they watch Jongdae dragging Kyungsoo bodily out of the office. “Save me,” Kyungsoo calls out half-heartedly. “You know you love us!” Baekhyun calls back cheerily. “Don’t be offended,” he says to Chanyeol. “We just haven’t seen him in forever, either, and you’ve been monopolising all of his time—not that that’s a problem, we know it’s for work.” He raises his eyebrows meaningfully. “Among other things, of course.” “Very funny,” Chanyeol says, turning back to his laptop but feeling mollified despite his urge to get mad at his best friends. “Go on, have fun. I’ll just keep working on...what are you staring at?” “Play that again, would you?” Bee points at the animation preview window on Chanyeol’s screen. “I know it doesn’t compare to your work, Mr. I-Specialise-In-Animation-And-Only-Animation,” Chanyeol snarks, but hits the spacebar anyway. Bee lets out a low whistle as the animation plays. “I don’t think you understand what you’re doing here, but this is amazing.” “Is something wrong?” Chanyeol squints at the screen. “It’s just pseudo-Kyungsoo, smiling.” “Exactly.” Bee smiles, but Chanyeol doesn’t understand the rest of his expression. (Maybe he doesn’t want to understand, but hell if he’s going to admit that to himself.) “He’s not just smiling, Chanyeol. That’s not your common, everyday generic smile. That’s something different.” Bee taps the screen lightly. “This is what’s going to make this game different.” “Wow.” Chanyeol doesn’t know what to say. “Thank you, I think.” “You’re welcome,” Bee says, still staring at him with that gaze Chanyeol doesn’t want to comprehend. “Oi! Bee! You’re taking too damn long, and Kyungsoo keeps trying to get away!” Jongdae calls from the corridor. “ He’s stronger than he looks, please help.” “Hold that man still, I’m coming over,” Baekhyun yells back, then puts a hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Good luck, Chanyeol. In more ways than one.” “Thank...you?” Chanyeol trails off as Baekhyun makes his way out of the office. He catches a glimpse of Kyungsoo through the doorway, who sends Chanyeol a small smile as he lets himself get dragged away by old friends to one of Baekhyun’s fancy restaurants. Chanyeol sits there for a bit, watching as pseudo-Kyungsoo smiles gently at him, over and over again. Then he closes his laptop and leaves for the beanbag room. “We’re ba—ack! How’s our favourite mentors’ favourite doing?!” Jongdae hollers at Chanyeol from the entrance to the beanbag room. “How’s my idiot sasquatch?!” “Stop embarrassing me,” Baekhyun intones, laptop under his arm and a venti order of Starbucks in the other hand. “I don’t know who you people are. I’m leaving.” “Aw, nah, come back here,” Jongdae coos, hooking Baekhyun’s coffee-bound arm with his and dragging him over to where Chanyeol’s set up his own laptop. “We were gonna work here anyway, right?” “I was, you just wanted to take a nap.” “Yeah, yeah,” Jongdae dismisses airily. “So, how’s it going? Any hiccups? Huge, irreparable plot holes? Fifty bugs in the code you can’t fix? You know, if you just buy me lunch for a month I could clear that little problem up for y—mrph!” “Bragging and trying to blag free food at the same time? This is a new low, Kim Jongdae.” Baekhyun releases Jongdae from his grip on his jaw, and Jongdae shoots him a wounded look as he turns away to nurse his dignity. “I’m saving up, okay? Not everyone has a trust fund to back them up, you know,” Jongdae shoots back. “Not everyone has a trust fund—hey!” A small, cushion-sized beanbag sails over his head as he ducks, and Jongdae makes a face at the cushion as it bounces harmlessly off the wall. “Rude!” “Chanyeol, my man, won’t you help me grab those pillows...hey? What’s wrong? You’re awful quiet today.” “Yeah, no, I’ve just been thinking,” Chanyeol says distantly. Baekhyun and Jongdae exchange a glance, and before Chanyeol can protest Baekhyun has his hand on his forehead and Jongdae’s pressing his fingers to Chanyeol’s in an attempt to take his pulse. “Are you sick?” Baekhyun half-shrieks. “Do you have a fever? Did you overwork yourself before your main project’s even started?” Jongdae slaps his hands all over Chanyeol’s neck and jabs at his sides, quickly reducing him to a hysterically laughing mess. “Okay, okay, lay off me! I’m not sick!” He leans back and sprawls into his favourite bright purple beanbag. “It’s it so weird for me to be thinking?” “Yeah,” they chorus. “Why are you my friends,” Chanyeol laments. “Speaking of ‘friend’, look who’s here.” Jongdae waves. “Hey, Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol sits up to look at his—friend?—not-friend?—more-than-friend?—his colleague, who smiles weakly back at him. Not a dream, then. But the smile fades as quickly as it came. “Is something wrong?” Chanyeol asks. Kyungsoo holds out a printout of an email. Baekhyun takes it, and Jongdae immediately leans over his shoulder to read. Chanyeol doesn’t trust himself to look. He doesn’t trust himself to know. Kyungsoo hasn’t shifted his gaze from Chanyeol at all. “‘Offered a permanent position with us… New York City… head programmer… look at these figures. Look at this brand name.” Baekhyun’s eyes are wide as dinner plates. “This. This is huge.” Jongdae shakes his head in bewilderment. “How? When? You’ve been here for two weeks, tops, and you’re already being headhunted?” But Kyungsoo isn’t saying anything. Kyungsoo isn’t saying anything because he’s looking to Chanyeol for an answer. Chanyeol doesn’t have an answer. So he does what his mind, his gut, his heart is telling him to do. “Where are you going? Hey! Chanyeol! Chanyeol—” —Yixing attempts to stop him on his way out of the office. “Chanyeol, where—” —the glass door swings shut behind him, and he takes the stairs three at a time— —the bus, rumbling gently along, round and round until he’s home— —”Chanyeol?” Sehun says, putting down his textbook. “Chanyeol, it’s not even four, what are you—” —Lock the door. Bed. Pillow. Darkness. yixing looking 4 u, says the text from Jongdae, blinking petulantly on Chanyeol’s phone. says e double kims got stuff 4 u The only reason Chanyeol even deigns to reply is because, unlike Baekhyun, Jongdae hasn’t tried to call him fifty times a day to try and get him to open up about...whoever. And he also hasn’t called his chosen isolation a ‘tantrum’, or 'sulking'. Which is very cool of him. Chanyeol respects Jongdae, so he’s going to reply. dont care well u shld bc i heard its abt their own proj Jongdae picks up on the first ring. “What do you mean, their own project?” Chanyeol says. “Yeah, I mean the super secret one they refuse to talk about. Seems like they’re gonna give their disciple some info.” “Are you serious?” “Yuh! How awesome is that? But you gotta show up at work.” Chanyeol slumps back down into bed. “Don’t want to. I’m working fine here on the cloud, and you know we technically don’t even have to be in the office daily.” “Yeah, well, they’re not gonna email it to you, so if you consider yourself a cool student, you should probably show up. Or they might ditch you. Who knows.” “Ugh, fuck.” Chanyeol squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again. “Fine. Fine. I’ll show up. But only because the double Kims are cool. That’s it.” When he puts on clothing that isn’t a pair of boxers and a faded tee and leaves his room, the first thing he’s hit by is a flying Sehun with arms. Chanyeol is aware Sehun is still, technically, a growing boy, but a growing boy shouldn’t be allowed to have arms that long without full control over said arms. It takes him a while to figure out that Sehun is, in fact, not trying to kill him. “Sehun,” Chanyeol says. “Are you hugging me?” “I am so glad to see your face,” Sehun machineguns at him. “I am so glad so glad so glad I thought you weren’t ever coming back out I couldn’t find your room key and I wasn’t sure if you were even eating and Jongdae and Baekhyun kept calling and I didn’t know what to say—” “Kid.” Chanyeol puts a hand on Sehun’s bleached-dry hair. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” “You better fucking be, you stupid old person.” Sehun starts disentangling himself from Chanyeol. “Always nothing but trouble—hey, let go of me!” “When did you become so cute, Oh Sehun?” Chanyeol wonders as Sehun struggles to break free from his grasp. “Get out of the flat!” Sehun yelps at him once he’s out of Chanyeol’s overly affectionate arms. “Go do your thing, or whatever got you out. And eat something.” “Alright, kid. I will.” As he closes the door, he sees Sehun turning on the television with a smile on his face, and changes the personal scoreboard to three-hundred and thirty two to Sehun, and three-hundred and thirty-three to himself. “This is what we want you to test out,” Minseok says as he hands Chanyeol a smartphone. “There’s an app in here that we’ve developed, and we need a test subject.” “It’s something like a treasure hunt, as of right now,” Junmyeon explains. “But a treasure hunt through real, actual parts of the city, with you having to play games to unlock the next clue.” “No one told me anything about testing,” Chanyeol says. “Yes, well, we thought you would be the best candidate, being our, ‘disciple’, to quote Kim Jongdae-sshi. Plus, most of the puzzles in this game was thought up by none other than Yixing himself. Beautiful work, really.” Minseok rests his hands in his pockets. “So, what do you think? Will you do it?” Chanyeol looks at the little device in his hands. “Sure,” he says. “Where do I begin?” “You’re joking,” he tells the smartphone. “Tell me you’re joking.” The first checkpoint is, as the game very helpfully tells him, is the company’s beanbag room. “Starting with something familiar, to ease the player in,” Junmyeon had said. What he didn’t expect was for a password to be pinned to one of the big beanbag chairs. An overly familiar-looking, dark grey one. “It’s just a coincidence,” Chanyeol tells himself. “It’s just a little bit of the universe shitting on you. It happens. I’ll deal with it.” He types in the password, the heartbeat of the game!, and the app chimes happily, providing him with another puzzle, and a hint that he’ll have to be walking to reach his next destination. “Alright,” Chanyeol says. “Now I know you people are just fucking with me.” “No swearing in the shop, please, I have a reputation to maintain.” Tiffany puts her hands on her hips. “And where have you been?” “I haven’t been anywhere! Are you a traitor?” Chanyeol accuses. “If by ‘traitor’ you mean ‘the one with the next clue to the weird phone game I’m playing’ then yes, of course I’m the traitor. And I’m not just going to give you the clue. You’re going to have to work for it.” Chanyeol groans. Tiffany smiles. “You’re still insufferable to all hell, but it’s good to see you back. Now, if you’ll just give me a moment…” She disappears into the kitchen, and reappears with a tray of fifteen chocolate brownies. “Is this what I’m thinking?” “Finish all these brownies in ten minutes,” Tiffany says sweetly, completely at odds with the way she’s smiling like an evil little imp. “Then I’ll give you the clue.” Chanyeol narrows his eyes. “I like this deal. We’re on.” “I’m gonna throw up,” Chanyeol moans. “Why does it feel so good but hurt so bad?” “Maybe this will finally discourage you from my brownies and nudge you towards some of my other delicacies instead. Like my mint cookies. And apple-apricot pie.” “Ugh, no, please, don’t talk about food right now.” Chanyeol holds up his hands in surrender. “Not even water, please.” Tiffany shrugs. “Whatever you say, but you did finish those fifteen brownies, so here’s your clue.” She reaches over the counter and sticks a small piece of paper in Chanyeol’s shirt pocket. “Good luck. And get out my cafe if you aren’t gonna buy anything else.” The water in the stream flashes gold and orange and blue in the fading light of day, with the occasional flash of red or green from the nearby street light. The app, upon acknowledging his arrival to the final location, had mostly shut itself down and now only displayed a screen with a simplified credits page on it. He’s not surprised to see Jongdae and Baekhyun there, the two of them were too suspicious to not be involved in this whole shebang, but another name was in there. One which, if he was going to be truthful, was rather expected, but Chanyeol is nothing if not true to himself when it matters. Not. “I coded that, you know.” “Yeah, I know,” Chanyeol says, still staring into the waters of the stream. “Says so right there on the screen.” Do Kyungsoo strides over, picks the phone out of Chanyeol’s hand, nicks Chanyeol’s personal cell from his jacket pocket, takes his own phone out of his own pocket, and places all three beside the stream. Then he kicks Chanyeol into the water. “What the fu—?!” “Are you awake yet, stupid?!” Kyungsoo yells into the stream. “Is it cold? Have you come to your senses, idiot?” Chanyeol’s hands shoot out of the water and pull Kyungsoo in with him. Two grown men splashing about in a small glorified canal would probably attract some stares, but the sun is going down on Kyungsoo’s face, and Chanyeol is sure that if anyone was looking, they’d know how beautiful Do Kyungsoo is in amber light and forgive them both. “I’m not leaving, stupid. I’m not leaving.” Kyungsoo takes a breath, and starts laughing. “I’m not leaving! I’m staying, staying for good. The company offered me a permanent position here, to try and keep me away from the headhunt offer. I took it. I’m staying.” “Why the fuck not? It’s a good offer, you’ll earn big bucks, get yourself a stable job and a better life.” Chanyeol knows he sounds bitter, so bitter, but he doesn’t care. “What’s not to like?” “First of all, I checked. The other company doesn’t have beanbag chairs. And why the hell would I want to build websites for people when I can help other people build entire worlds? And lastly—” “—! Ew. Soo, you taste like icky water.” Chanyeol wipes at his mouth. Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Tactless as ever.” Chanyeol shrugs. “I try my best.” “We should really get out of this water before we either catch a cold or something worse,” Kyungsoo says. “Nah, I say fuck it. I can hear it here.” “Hear what?” “This.” Chanyeol places his hand on his own chest, and his other hand on Kyungsoo’s. “I can hear it. The heartbeat of the game. I can hear it in my ears.” Kyungsoo puts his own hand over Chanyeol’s and laughs, then looks at him with those eyes, and Chanyeol thinks he’s going to put this in his game. Their game. Their own way of freezing this moment forever, so they won’t lose it again. “Right,” Kyungsoo says. “Your brain is frying. We are so getting out of this water.” “Can we get something hot to drink at Let’s Love?” “Tiffany is going to kill us for wetting her floor. But good idea. Brownies?” “...Oh, dear God, no.” YOU'VE REACHED THE END OF THE FIC! Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to leave a comment but don't have a Dreamwidth account, fret not: anonymous commenting is on. If you want to comment on the LJ mirror, you may do so HERE. Thanks! ♥