“The hell happened to you?”

Sehun has spent all night trying to think of a good answer to this question, but he still hasn’t found any. Jongin’s tone is urgent and his hand rough when he grabs Sehun’s chin to get a better look of his face, and Sehun is forced to settle with the truth. Parts of it, anyway.

“I ran into a scuffle.” He says, and pries Jongin’s hand away.

“With whom?” Jongin questions immediately. “One of the tangerines?” Sehun nods, but Jongin’s still not satisfied. “Which one?”

“Uh.” Sehun says. “Tao.”

He regrets his honesty the very next moment as Jongin’s eyes widen to comedic sizes. “You’re fucking with me.” He says, dumbfounded. “How come you aren’t more beaten up?”

Sehun can only shrug, somewhat wondering the same thing. “I guess he went easy on me.”

“Easy!? You shouldn’t even be alive! How did you manage to escape?”

“Uh.” Sehun says, a brief but vivid image of Tao with a tuft of cotton in one hand and a bottle of antiseptic wash in the other flitting before his inner view. “As I said, he went easy on me.”

As expected, Jongin later goes on to recite his story; first once when they meet Suho and Baekhyun, then again when Chanyeol comes in, and finally a last time when Kyungsoo arrives, and it gets louder and more colorful for every round. When he, for the third time, with a face of disbelieving awe praises this hell of a guardian angel Sehun must have, Sehun frowns and speaks up.

“Hey, I landed a few good blows on him as well.” He says because, well, he did.

“I’m sure you did.” Chanyeol says soothingly, fighting to keep a cheeky grin from creeping up over his paternal expression and Sehun gives his shoulder a harsh shove. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun seem impressed at the incident, but Suho’s not amused, and soon he rises from his seat to sweep a firm glare over their faces, halting an extra second at Sehun’s.

“Don’t you guys realize what this means?” he says, tone low and dark. “They didn’t back off. Theyattacked one of our members.”

“Uh.” Sehun says. “Actually…”

“We can’t let them get away with this! We can’t be their personal punching bags!”

“Actually.” Sehun says again, a bit louder this time. “It was I who happened to walk straight into his backyard. Apparently he lives not too far from my place…”

“Still—“

“I also…” Sehun continues, sheepishly scratching at his neck. “…might have thrown the first punch.”

Everybody’s eyes widen with respect, except for Suho who looks at him with a face of utter incredulity. “Are you fucking serious? You could have ended up in the hospital!” he spits out. “Or the morgue. We don’t know how far that guy’d go.”

“He blocked my exit! What was I supposed to do?” Sehun argues.

“You didn’t for once pause to consider that the situation is infected enough as it is?” Suho snaps. “What if they take this as an invitation to war? They could be coming knocking on our turf any fucking second!”

Sehun doubts it, for various reasons, but he doesn’t quite know how to explain why. “He… doesn’t seem like that.” He attempts lamely, and Suho quirks a brow.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“He let me go. He had me on my back, but he let me go.”

Suho scoffs skeptically. “That doesn’t mean anything! We don’t know what’s going on in this freak’s brain, he could be sharpening his shurikens and prepping the wooden board to put your stuffed head on as we speak!”

Sehun can’t help but to roll his eyes. “He’s just a normal guy.”

Suho stares at him for a good while, before throwing his hands up and sinking back into his chair. “I’m not paying for your fucking coffin.”

Although overly dramatic, Suho has a point; Sehun doesn’t know what’s going on inside Tao’s head. But despite himself, he, when going home that night, and the night after that, and the night after that, can’t help but to play with the thought of taking the other route, just passing by Tao’s block. It’s silly, and weird, and he doesn’t know what he expects to happen (doesn’t even know what he wants to happen), but it gnaws on his mind, popping up during all untimely occasions of the day, and before he knows it he, during an especially foul-mooded evening in the basement, has risen from his seat, stretched exaggeratedly and asked Kyungsoo if it isn’t time for them to call it a day. Kyungsoo sends him a confused frown before shrugging and rising as well, and they make their way up the stairs with dark mumbles being the only response to their goodbyes.

Sehun finds himself growing increasingly excited as they walk, and all but sprints down the street when having parted with Kyungsoo. He can’t really process any of the thoughts that clutter up his brain, flying back and forth at mad speed, and he soon gives up on it completely. The closer he gets, the stronger flushes the adrenaline through his body, and he settles with enjoying that.

Not until he reaches the alley leading into Tao’s backyard does he halt, suddenly feeling infinitely silly. What the hell did he plan to do now? Go up and knock on the door? Hang around, hoping for Tao to come out? He may not even be home. Or worse – maybe he is home, and maybe his gang is there with him. Ever rational fiber in Sehun’s body tells him to leave, get home as quick as possible before he makes a complete fool out of himself, or worse; gets beaten to pulp. What does he even fucking want with this? The electric rush of fighting with Tao? The weird horror surging in his chest when meeting his cold eyes? That hot stirring in the pit of his stomach from Tao’s lips on his skin… – wait, what? Sehun blinks, and shakes his head. What the actual fuck. 

“Hey.”

Sehun startles, frantically looking around, but he’s all alone at the street. A couple of seconds pass before he slowly raises his gaze, trailing it up the wall towards an opened window.

Although still blank, there is a clear hint of amusement on Tao’s face. He’s resting his elbows on the windowsill and peering down at Sehun with his upper lip curled into the smallest smirk. Sehun feels his face heating up.

“M! Countdown’s on.” Tao says, short and simple. When getting no reaction, he cocks his head to the side, blinking down at Sehun once before withdrawing and closing the window.

Sehun feels way beyond silly, and a big part of him is more than ready to humor those rational fibers; sprint down the street, rush home, curl up under his blanket and pretend none of this ever happened. But another part of him, (a much stronger part of him, it seems,) is already making his feet move down the alley, and then up the stairs. The door halfway down the balcony is slightly ajar, a stripe of yellow light peeking out from the crack, and Sehun swiftly makes his way in and closes the door behind him.

A good half of the boxes have disappeared, replaced by a bookcase and a sideboard at the sofa with a small TV on it. Tao’s curled up on the couch with a knee drawn up to his chest and he pulls absentmindedly at his earrings while eyeing Sehun under dark bangs.

Sehun lingers awkwardly at the door, gaze sheepishly darting over Tao’s face a few times before he bends over to untie his shoelaces. The bedroom door is open, he notes, and as far as he can tell, they’re alone in the apartment, so he wearily makes his way over to take a seat at Tao’s side.

And there they sit, watching group after group perform with the occasional sniff or cough being the only sound to interrupt the music, and when the show’s over Tao reaches for the remote and shuts the TV off. Sehun tenses in the sudden silence, and when Tao leans back to just eye him quietly, face continuously unreadable, the atmosphere promptly skips past uncomfortable and heads right forexcruciating, and Sehun can’t even meet his gaze.

After a highly unpleasant minute, he clears his throat and gets to his feet. “I--euh.” He says, wiping his hands on his pants. “I should probably get going.” A glance from the corner of his eye informs him of the tiny smile playing on Tao’s lips, and the short nod he gives him.

“Come by some time.” He says, and Sehun shoots him another brief glance before all but running for the door, hurriedly stepping into his shoes before letting himself out.

-

Tao easily blocks both of his fists, but Sehun manages to give his shin a good jab with his foot before receiving a hard kick against the shoulder that almost has him losing his balance. He ducks immediately as Tao spins around and narrowly avoids his shoe flying by in head-level, before exploiting the moment the other needs to straighten back up to aim a loose punch towards his face. He’s close, fingers brushing against Tao’s cheek and eliciting a wry grimace from the older before he grabs on to Sehun’s outstretched arm and directs a firm kick towards his ankles. Sehun squeezes his eyes shut as he plummets down on his ass, groaning out a breathy fuck.

“It was good.” Tao says, panting slightly as he bends over Sehun and extends a hand.

Sehun sends him a glare as he grabs onto Tao’s wrist and gets to his feet. “You got me.”

Tao shrugs. “Better than last time.”

Sehun only growls vaguely and rubs at his shoulder. Tao doesn’t hold back, but Sehun would rather kill himself than complain; especially when it was he who requested this in the first place.

“You gotta work the feet. They’re another set of fists.” Tao continues and swings his leg up in a lithe pirouette, causing Sehun to let out a snort.

“Show-off.”

This is their fifth session already, and although Tao doesn’t say much, Sehun learns a lot from just watching him, and sparring him. He’s starting to memorize Tao’s pattern of movement; what comes before a punch and what comes before a kick, but it’s not of much use if he can’t match him in speed and flexibility. He watches begrudgingly how Tao sinks down on his haunches and easily extends a leg to the side, fingers flitting briefly over his inner thigh.

“Most importantly.” He says, peering up at Sehun through his bangs. “Stretching.”

Sehun lets out a sigh and gets down on the floor as well, mirroring the other’s pose. He winces as muscles and tendons strain to stretch out.

“Do it every day.” Tao advices. He folds his leg back in and sits back to watch Sehun with his chin on his knee, a faint grin spreading on his face when Sehun struggles to switch to the other leg.

“Front too.” He says soon, patting at his hip, and Sehun dutifully stands on one knee, bringing the other up in 90 degrees and tilting his pelvis forward, becoming painfully aware of how stiff he is in comparison to the other. Tao smacks his lips and creeps forward on his haunches, reaching out to hook two fingers in Sehun’s belt-loops. Sehun startles, but doesn’t bother removing his hands.

“Harder.”

“I can’t.” Sehun groans out. Tao looks up, fixing Sehun’s gaze with his own.

“Every day.” He repeats, slipping his fingers out from the hooks to calmly draw his palms down Sehun’s thigh. Sehun stares down at him, trying to make sense of this guy and his weird perception of personal space, but doesn’t get far into his reasoning before Tao has leaned up and pressed their lips together.

Sehun startles again, pulling away just enough to leave some air between them; he didn’t really expect that, and can’t quite figure out how he feels about it. Tao, however, doesn’t remove himself, only stares into Sehun’s eyes and curls his fingers against the fabric of his pants. Soon enough he tries again, darting forward for a peck and when Sehun doesn’t object he quickly grows bolder, parting his lips just enough to envelop one of Sehun’s.

Far too soon Sehun finds himself responding, mouth coaxed open by a nimble tongue while a pair of warm hands keep stroking slowly up and down his thigh. There is that hot swirling in his belly again, steadily seeping up his chest and down his loins, and he lets out an awkward noise from the back of his throat when Tao softly sucks on his lower lip. Before he knows it he’s on his back on the floor, propping himself up on his elbows as Tao swiftly straddles his hips before cupping his face again, frenching him with undivided attention.

It takes a hand gently creeping up under his shirt for any kind of warning bells to go off in Sehun’s head – but when they do, it’s a whole fucking ensemble howling. He blinks rapidly, hand coming down to grip at Tao’s wrist.

“Uh.” He says intelligently and Tao immediately pulls back to look at him; eyes intent and a little flushed to the face, and Sehun strongly suspects he’s donning similar expression. The next moment he becomes blaringly aware that he’s sporting the beginnings of a neat hard-on – and that Tao is sitting on it.

“I really should get going.” He coughs out, voice way too unstable for his liking. Tao makes a vague movement with his head; something that could have been a nod but was far too small and quick for Sehun to tell, and he doesn’t say anything, just eyes Sehun intently when removing himself. Sehun swiftly gets to his feet and uneasily slips his hand into his pocket, shooting a glance down at Tao who’s still on his knees on the floor, face more unreadable than ever.

“Uh.” He says again, before promptly turning on his heel and trying not to run as he makes for the door.

-

“You look different.”

Sehun startles and shoots Jongin a guarded glance. “What do you mean, different?”

Jongin shrugs, eyeing him thoughtfully as they walk. “I don’t know. You move different. Like… graceful.”

Oh. “You mean I didn’t before?”

Jongin grins. “No, you didn’t.”

“Douche.”

Jongin lets out a cackle and trudges on, but suddenly comes to an abrupt halt. Sehun sends him a confused frown but doesn’t have to look far to see what startled him.

They’re right at the outskirts of their territory, and the walls that usually only don a few EXO-tags are practically covered with hexagon stickers. There’s several hundred of them, glued up in a wide, messy trail stretching all the way to the next block in both directions, and Sehun feels something ice-cold spreading through his chest.

Jongin’s staring intently at the stickers, breath growing alarmingly heavy, before he suddenly sets off down the street, making a narrow turn into the alley that has pebble spurting after him.

“Hey! Jongin, wait—“ Sehun tries, before scrambling to follow him. There’s stickers all the way to the basement, and the coldness in Sehun’s chest is joined by an apprehensive surge of nausea; they’ve been here, they’ve been all the way down here, and we… 

Jongin swiftly pulls the door open and hammers down the stairs without even bothering to close it, but Sehun soon follows him and slams it shut. He finds Jongin standing in the middle of the basement, panting, with Suho and Baekhyun watching him warily.

“Have you seen what they’ve done?” he spits out, and Suho heaves a big sigh.

“Yes.”

“Those fucking bastards!”

“Yes.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” Suho’s angry as well, but also tired. He’s slumped forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees, suddenly looking small and fragile.

“I—I can’t…” Jongin sputters, raking a hand through his hair as he slumps down next to Baekhyun on the couch.

“We should just stop.” Baekhyun says, voice low and guarded. “This isn’t worth it. Let them glue their damned stickers wherever they want.”

Jongin stares at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says, tone so harsh and incredulous that it makes Baekhyun shrink back. “We’re just gonna fold? Let them do what the fuck they want? Let them have anything they fucking point at?”

“I—I’m just saying…” Baekhyun stutters, hands coming up.

“If we let them have our blocks they’ll come for the basement next, just out of spite.” Suho mumbles, effectively shutting the other two up. “If we show them that we’re weak, they’ll be even happier to walk right over us. I’d have to fucking move.”

“…But can’t we just…” Baekhyun tries.

“What? Talk to them?” Suho scoffs wearily. “Didn’t really work out last time.”

“But what are we gonna do?” Jongin presses again.

“I said, I don’t know.” Suho snarls out, sending him a glare. Jongin’s upper lip curls up in a scowl, breath coming out heavy through his flaring nostrils. Suddenly he jumps up, heading for the stairs with long, swift steps.

“Hey!” Suho calls out in his most authoritative voice, jumping up as well. “Jongin!” But Jongin’s already out the door and Sehun puts a hand on Suho’s shoulder.

“Let him walk it off.” He says, and soon enough Suho sinks back into his seat with a heavy sigh.

-

Jongin doesn’t return that night, but it’s not until he also doesn’t come to school the next day that Sehun starts feeling a bit worried (not to mention; guilty). He has just finished his last class for the day when his cellphone rings, and he whips it up to see Suho’s number on the screen.

“Sehun-ah.” Suho says, voice low and tight, and anxiety immediately settles in Sehun’s stomach. “You better come over to the basement.”

He stumbles in, sweaty and panting, a rough twenty minutes later during which more and more dreadful scenarios has painted themselves before his eyes; Jongin with his face ruined, Jongin with every bone in his body broken, Jongin in a coma, Jongin dead… And is thus both infinitely relieved and a bit embarrassed at his raging imagination when Jongin looks up and gives him a dark glance from his seat at the couch.

He looks horrible though; a black eye and a cracked lip, face swollen and scratched, and his t-shirt reveals some nasty bruises currently in the process of turning a merry shade of purple on his arms. Sehun swallows thickly and tries to calm his rapid breathing, feeling how the withdrawing anxiety makes way for a good deal of anger, and he suddenly develops a strong urge to produce some bruises of his own on Jongin’s body.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls, striding across the room to take a seat in front of his friend. Jongin only sends him a glare, wincing as he shifts slightly in his seat. “What happened?”

“What the fuck do you think happened.” Jongin retorts lowly, and Sehun rolls his eyes.

“Who was it?”

“Kris and Lay and the girly boy, Luhan.” Jongin grits out, lips pursed. “I had no idea someone so camp could punch that hard.”

“Three of them?” Sehun stares. “On one?” Jongin nods. “Those fucking dickheads!”

The next moment Chanyeol and Kyungsoo barge in, and the process is repeated.

“Three on one? Those fucking dickheads!” Chanyeol snarls out, incredulous. “But how did you know where to find them?”

“I didn’t.” Jongin says, attempting a shrug that has him groaning vaguely. “…Krystal did.”

Chanyeol stares at him, nostrils flaring. “I will fucking kill her.”

“Shut up, Chanyeol.” Suho snaps sharply. “Don’t say shit like that.” Chanyeol sends him a glare, but then sinks back into his seat, muttering to himself. Sehun studies Jongin through narrowed eyes, and then rises to approach him and press a light finger to his collarbone.

“Shit!” Jongin yelps, flinching. “Take it easy!”

“Your shoulder’s all swollen.” Sehun notes, causing Suho’s eyes to widen and Jongin to send him a weary glare. “Can you lift your arm?”

“…Not really.” Jongin admits, flinching again when Suho also reaches out to touch at his clavicle. “Fuck!” he spits out, swatting Suho’s hand away. “I think we already established that it hurts, okay?”

Suho gets to his feet, standing by Sehun’s side and looming darkly over Jongin. “You’re collarbone is fucking broken!” he snaps, tone almost accusing. “That’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital!”

Jongin attempts to protest, but Suho’s already flinging Baekhyun his car keys, nodding for Chanyeol to take a grip of Jongin’s uninjured arm. Sehun stays frozen in his spot, feeling his breathing speeding up again. His head feels strangely cluttered and empty all at the same time, and before he knows it he has turned on his heel and set off towards the stairs.

“Hey!” Suho shouts immediately, diving forward and tugging him back with a firm grip around his arm. “Where the fuck are you going?”

Sehun swallows, not really able to focus his gaze on Suho’s face. “I’m…” he trails.

“You know, this situation seems pretty fucking familiar to me.” Suho snarls, leaning in close, and Sehun struggles to pull himself together.

“I’m just gonna…” he rants, but then realizes that he doesn’t even know what he was planning. Suho scowls at him before turning to Kyungsoo instead.

“Follow him home.” He orders. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

-

They watch the car speeding off down the road before Sehun turns to Kyungsoo. “You’re gonna babysit me?”

“Yes.” Kyungsoo replies immediately, eyeing him obstinately. “You better get used to it.”

He tags along all the way to Sehun’s house, constantly sending him suspicious glances from the corner of his eye, and when reaching the door Sehun takes a deep breath and turns to face him.

“I’m okay.” He says. “Seriously. Go home.”

Kyungsoo gives him a last contemplative once-over before pursing his lips and nodding vaguely, turning on his heel without a word. Sehun rakes through his hair and takes another deep breath before unlocking the door. He takes a shower and tries to eat something but can’t muster an appetite, tries to watch some TV but can’t focus long enough to even register what’s on. After a rough two hours his phone buzzes, and it’s a text from Suho;

broken. waiting for x-ray

Again, Sehun feels his blood start boiling. He takes a few, steadily quickening breaths before jumping from his seat. He’s in his shoes and out the door within a minute, stomping down the road in whatever direction his feet takes him, not even surprised when he soon finds himself outside a familiar alley. The window up to his left is closed, but the lights are on, and Sehun immediately stalks down into the backyard and up the stairs, giving the door halfway down the balcony a good beating.

Tao wears a black tank-top that makes his arms look awfully good, Sehun absentmindedly finds himself noting before getting back on track and sending him a firm glare. Tao doesn’t even flinch at the foul look upon his face, only nods shortly and steps aside grant him passage, and Sehun stomps into the living room without even taking his shoes off.

“Your friends.” He grits out. “They beat the shit out of Jongin.”

Tao sends him a short, blank glance before closing the door and trailing to lean against the wall. “I heard.”

Sehun frowns. “’You heard’? That’s all?”

Tao shrugs, but gains a little bit of depth in his dark eyes.

“They broke his fucking collarbone!”

A muscle twitches in Tao’s face. “He was still whole enough to walk out of there on his own, wasn’t he?”

Sehun can only stare at him. “They… they beat him black and blue!”

Tao smacks his lips. “Last year, a gang back home got a hold of Kris.” He says, looking straight into Sehun’s eyes. “Broke both his legs before throwing him in a ditch. He spent two months in the hospital, and another six on crutches.”

“But…”

“Another time ten guys ganged up on Lay with baseball-bats.” Tao continues mercilessly. “I couldn’t even recognize him afterwards.” He takes a step forward, staring down at Sehun so hard that he subconsciously withdraws. “We’re used to playing rough, you won’t last long otherwise over there. If you show weakness, you’re easy prey. You have to decide on what you want, and then fight with all you’ve got to protect it.”

“I…” Sehun tries, practically feeling himself deflate.

“What would you have done in that situation? One of our guys walking straight into your den, shouting and rumbling around?” Tao presses, eyes narrowing. “You even planned to gang up on Xiu Min and Luhan before, didn’t you?”

“But…” Sehun whines. “It’s not fair…”

Tao releases a scoff, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Fair? What kind of gang are you, not even ready to fight? Maybe you should just go back to kindergarten.”

His words hit a sore spot, and Sehun hears himself growling. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. He didn’t come here to be patronized and humiliated, and although not entirely sure what he did come here for, he feels properly fucking pissed. Pissed at these guys who come out of nowhere and fuck up their world, pissed at this guy who watches him all with eyes all dark and narrowed without ever letting Sehun read anything from them, pissed at himself for thinking about Tao every fucking day since that afternoon a couple of weeks ago, and infinitely pissed at his damned libido which is currently stirring furiously just from being close enough to feel Tao’s scent…

Sehun frowns bitterly, letting out a breathy snarl before grabbing Tao by the neck and smashing their lips together. Tao stumbles forward but quickly regains his composure, arms curling around Sehun’s waist and pushing him up against the wall.

“Fuck…” Sehun manages, this time fully aware of what’s going on but not bothering to stop it. Tao uses his short moment of hesitation to bite down on Sehun’s bottom lip and stick his tongue in his mouth, and Sehun can only groan vaguely and slide a hand up the other’s top. Before long they’re both flushed and aroused, and Tao fumbles with Sehun’s belt, shooting him a brief, searching glance before working it open and sticking his hand down his pants. Sehun can only stare at him, wide-eyed, as he draws in a shaky breath and bucks shamelessly into Tao’s fingers before reaching for his fly to reciprocate.

It’s over in a mere couple of minutes, and then they find themselves just staring blankly into the other’s eyes, chests heaving against each other. Sehun curls his sticky fingers in the air and blinks rapidly, noting with a smug flash of satisfaction that even Tao seems a bit shaken and breathless, before what they just did fully dawns on him and a weird mix of excitement and dread spreads in his chest. He shakily pushes Tao aside and heads up to the sink to wash his hand, clumsily zipping up his pants with his clean one before leaning back against the counter to fix his belt. Tao’s frozen in his spot, mirroring his actions with a wary look.

“Uh.” Sehun says, mostly to break the awkward silence. “Okay.”

Tao blinks.

“So.” Sehun clears his throat. “We… should do this again some time.” He shifts briefly on his feet before promptly marching out into the hallway and leaving with burning cheeks, silently begging for his knees to stop shaking.

-

Jongin’s released from the hospital a few days later and apparently the two nights in solitude got himthinking.

“What about the Super Juniors?”

“Dissolved. Half of them enlisted and the rest got a haircut and a job.”

“What about the… gods of the east, or whatever those pretentious bastards called themselves…?”

“Don’t you remember? They split up. Not even talking anymore, I’ve heard.”

“Those shining dudes, then? With all the pastel pants.”

“I doubt it. They’re still pissed we won a block from them last year.”

“Fuck, you’re right. They’re a whiny bunch. What about those… you know. With the time. Something-PM.”

“2PM? Why would they help us out? They don’t owe us anything.”

“Why, it could be worth a shot?”

Suho groans. “Don’t get us into more trouble than we have already, okay?”

“Fine… What about Krystal? She’s in some kind of gang, isn’t she?”

“We gonna have girls fighting for us? Seriously?” Chanyeol sneers, causing Jongin to pout.

“Why are you like that? It’s not the fifties anymore, you know.”

“Give it up, Jong.” Suho agrees. “I won’t have them on my conscience.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to do something about our situation.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Suho retorts dryly, getting to his feet. “It’s too late for this anyway. Go home and sleep on it, and don’t do anything stupid.” He points a finger into Jongin’s face, eliciting an indignated glare from the younger.

“What would I do in this state anyway?” he croaks, nodding down towards his bandaged shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Suho deadpans. “I never know. My brain cannot fathom the widths of your stupidity. You surpass yourself each time.”

Chanyeol lets out a loud snort, but quickly falls silent as Suho turns to him instead. “Chanyeol, you walk him home.”

“Why me?” Chanyeol argues.

“Because Kyungsoo’s assigned to Sehun and Baekhyun’s not good for anything.” Suho explains, a grin playing on his lips. When Sehun and Baekhyun both let out a simultaneous Hey! he actually throws his head back in a cackle, something Sehun realizes he hasn’t done in weeks (and frankly, Sehun has missed it).

He, however, soon schools his features and gestures Chanyeol towards the door, causing him to (while muttering foul words under his breath) grab onto Jongin’s good shoulder and pull him up. They make their way up the stairs with grumbling farewells, but the other three linger for a while and after a couple of minutes Suho suddenly slaps his hand to his forehead.

“What am I thinking…” he groans. “Put Chanyeol to watch Jongin? That’s like setting a sheep to watch the sheep.” He swirls around and fixes Sehun with his gaze. “You keep an eye on him. Make sure he comes to school tomorrow. And if he doesn’t…” He frowns into the air and lets out a vague growl from the back of his throat.