Touch- ChenMin

Physical contact is important to human beings. It means comfort, security, and sense of belonging. For Kim Jongdae, physical contact was something he never paid attention to, but that did not mean it wasn't important to him. Anyone who followed him around would note his almost compulsive dependence upon his ability to keep in physical contact with his hyung, Kim Minseok, more often known as Xiumin.
It was something that initially rose out of a need for security. For Jongdae who'd never been away from home, being packed off to another country, with five other boys was very close to his worst nightmare. Not being able to speak the language just made the situation even better.... in being worse. So somewhere in between the schedules and walking in the airports through a sea of rabid fans, Jongdae started clinging onto his hyung.
To anyone, Minseok might seem the childish one, however, five minutes into any conversation with him, his caring, kind self emerged. It was this side that led Chen to seek his hyung when he was the least comfortable. Hooking his arm into the older male's, clinging onto his hands, glad for the contact, Chen took to the habit of walking through crowds almost stuck to Xiumin. Though, because of their heights it seemed that Xiumin was the one in need for protection, but everyone in Exo knew that it was just the other way around.
Walking through the crowd, in a foreign country, through a crowd of foreign people, chanting for in words, words he was not sure was meant to praise or hurt him. In that, to be at Xiumn's side, knowing that the older would not let go, made him feel at home. At times Chen wondered if that sentiment made him sound like a love stricken girl, but he really couldn't argue, he needed his Hyung and if it made him sound a little... well, gay, then you could shoot him for all he cared, because it was still the truth.
Somewhere down the line, Minseok, with his sensitivity, realised that he was needed by the younger. That, the younger needed him to be his security blanket. Somewhere down the line, he added Jongdae's Bodygaurd, to his mental list of roles. He ensured that the younger was beside him during interviews, at the airport, on the streets..... not that he needed to, Chen stuck to him like a baby koala.
Eventually, the need for security turned into a need for comfort, on both sides. It wasn't very surprising. The two Koreans were bound to drift together because of their common nationality in a foreign nation. It wasn't very hard either, what with all the clinging Chen did, all the time they spent studying Chinese, and all the time they spent on stage, with the translator behind them, and Chen and Xiumin, always Jongdae and Minseok hyung, to each other, became used to the fact that wherever one was the other would never be too far behind.
It wasn't very hard to notice that the two boys gravitated towards each other, airport or stage. It wasn't very hard to see that Jongdae repaid his hyung by taking care of the older when he himself was unable to. It wasn't very surprising to see him lead his hyung through the airports, while they were blocked by fans, or wrap his hying in a back hug, with a towel, when the older fell into a pool on a show, or crack the world's lamest joked that made his hyujng look like a happy baozi. On Minseok' part, he was grateful for his dongsaeng's care. Not that he wasn't a one hundred percent sure that the other members would not help him, that he knew they would, but he was more than happy to realise that Jongdae cared for him as much as he cared for Jongdae, blissfully unaware when the need for security and comfort, on Jongdae's part, had turned into a sort of compulsion. Jongdae himself did not realise this until he was no longer in possession of the liberty of contact.
It had been an epic argument. An argument that the four Chinese members of Exo-M watched from the sidelines. Tao, because he really had no idea of what was being said, Lay, because he kept spacing out, and Luhan and Kris because they had never seen sweet and kind Baozi look so infuriated. It probably wasn't all of Chen's doing. Sure, he had cracked some pretty bad and lame baozi jokes (so lame, that Luhan would later remark that the jokes couldn't even stand with the help of crutches).... Still it was mostly because Xuimin had been on too many shows and experienced (suffered, to his mind) several Baozi jokes and had really felt the need to retaliate. For something, that would have usually involved Jongdae cracking baozi jokes, Minseok puffing his cheeks with air in irritation, Jongdae pinching his puffed cheeks and hence restoring the normal order of things, it became a bad case of wrong-place-wrong-time with Jongdae cracking baozi jokes, Minseok snapping in anger and then everything spiralling downwards from there on. There had been raised voices (raised enough for Tao to wonder if their group mates in Seoul could her them). Neither had backed down, yelling and shouting every possible fault of the other, until Kris had snapped out of his initial shock and returned to his usual, Duizhang, self, ordering the two to their rooms, which they complied to... after yelling at each other's turned backs.
So, for lack of schedules, interviews or airport runs, Jongdae hadn't spoken to (save the occasional "pass the pepper" or "please move"), laughed with, or, and most importantly, hugged his hyung in two days. On the third, he was on his bed, curled into a ball in a corner, occasionally whining about the uselessness of the world.
"Chen-Chen?" Jongdae knew it was Luhan that poked his head through the door and sat at the end of the bed. "Chennie?" He peeked through his blanket and pillow cocoon (no! It was certainly not a baozi substitute) at the older, doe-eyed male. For a moment Luhan felt like he was looking at a kicked puppy. He patted Chen's head and said, "does your heart hurt Chennie?"
Chen bolted up in bed, flustered and irritated. "Wha-?! What?!? Gege! Seriously!" From the other bed in the room, Kris' heavy laugh filled the air, joined by Luhan's softer one.
"Baby don't cry tonight~!" Half-sang Luhan, and added a wink at the end. Kris was still chortling from his bed and then added, in his rapper's voice,
"My heart be breakin'."
Chen pounded on the bed, like a petulant child, "you guys are so mean! I'm telling Min-" and then he realised that he'd been caught out. Loud laughter exploded in the room and Luhan wiped fake tears from his eyes, while Kris said,
"You've spent the last two days looking like you've been dumped, bro."
"And you're acting like you're hung up over Minnie gege so don't argue with us. Go make up or whatever." Sighed Luhan. Chen opened his mouth twice, like a fish and then closed them both times without saying anything. Kris cleared his throat and Chen realised the Duizhang was standing over his bed with a look that made the members respect him and girls (and Tao) gush all over the place.
"Chen, whatever it is that you need to do, do it. I'm sick of seeing a kicked pup on the other side of the room."
"I can almost feel an aura of negativity from this room every time I pass by," added Luhan, with a solemn nod. Chen dived back into his cocoon (no, it was still not a baozi substitute) and shook his head violently.
Kris looked at Luhan, and in a moment of superb understanding, the leader and the little deer grabbed Chen's arms and legs respectively and hoisted him into the air between them. This was met by a loud yelp of sheer horror and and angry shout of, "what the hell are you doing?" from Chen as he attempted to kick and struggle, to no avail.
"What I should have done two days ago," remarked Kris, through gritted teeth as he attempted to drag Chen out his door and towards Luhan's shared room.
Xiumin had been pouring over his Chinese all morning, with Lay for company, only to be interrupted by a horrified yelp, followed by indistinguishable angry shouts.
"What is that...?" He asked Lay, who looked at him with equally confused eyes and replied,
"Maybe they're murdering someone...?"
"It sounds like Jongdae..." began Xiumin, though he didn't have to wonder for long.
The door to the room flew open and the strange posse of three entered, Chen slung, uncerimoniously, between Luhan and Kris as if on an invisible hammock, still kicking and screaming, which he stopped as soon as he saw Xiumin gaping, wide eyed, at him. Lay covered his mouth with a notebook.
"This, I believe, belongs to you, gege," said Kris, stepping to Xiumin, with Luhan, Chen still in the air between them, as Xiumin looked at them in utter confusion. Lay rose.
"I'm going to get coffee, do you want some gege?" Xiumin shook his head mutely as he looked at Chen, who tried, and failed miserably, to look dignified. Tao poked his head through the door, hoping to catch some of the action, but was pushed outside by Lay, on his way out.
"I think you broke him," said Luhan with a smile that made Chen shiver, "I'll leave the fixing to you." With that ominous note, the two boys dropped Chen onto the floor, at Xiumin's feet, where he curled up into a petulant ball, and walked out.
For a while Jongdae didn't know how to begin a conversation with his hyung. Yes Minseok would always be his hyung. Gege to the others but hyung only to him. It would be an understatement to say that he was shocked when Minseok's voice, next to his ears, asked, "Jongdae.... gaenchana?" He started violently out of his self made ball. Minseok had joined him on the floor.
He looked up in a way that made Minseok see him in the same way that Kris had earlier- a kicked pup. Jongdae looked somewhere between his hyung's feet and the floor and whispered, "Hyung.... I missed you..."
Minseok raised an eyebrow and asked,
"Exactly how did you? I live next door- literally!"
"I erm....." Jongdae did not know how to go on as the older looked at him in confusion. There was a beep that distracted their attentions. Minseok looked at his phone.
"It's from Luhan...?" Warning signals rang in Jongdae's head.
"Hyung!! Andwae!! Don't read it!" But Minseok had already begun to read.
"...ask Chennie if his heart still hurts..?" He looked at his dongsaeng in utter confusion. "Did you breakup with someone? Three days and you get a girl- and break up with her too!"
"What-? Hyung no! There is no girl. Just forget it!" Jongdae started walking towards the door.
"Jongdae-ah. Khajima..." Minseok sat on the bed with pursed lips. "Don't you think maybe we should talk about what happened?"
"What happened!?" Jongdae turned around, the pent-up rage and frustration bubbling up inside him, almost as if someone had turned on a switch. "You want to talk now?! Where were you two days ago?!"
"Are you kidding me!" Minseok threw his arms in the air. "Each time I tried to get near you, you'd say 'move out of my way please' or 'pass the salt'- even if we weren't at the table!- and you looked like you'd been sucker-punched, so I thought you had other things to deal with!" Jongdae's switch had suddenly been turned off. He hung his head.
"Mi-mianhae hyung...." He took a few hesitant steps closer. "Can I hug you?" Minseok raised an eyebrow but rose and put his arms around the younger, yet taller male. It was then that Jongdae started crying. Of cousre it wasn't all of Minseok's fault. Sure, he had hugged the younger after a good forty-eight hours but Jongdae was mostly homesick, tired and frustrated with his lack of Chinese skills. "I hate us not being friends.." Minseok kept quiet and patted his dongsaeng's back. "I feel so lost and alone here... at least you remind me of home.... oh lord! I sound like a freaking girl!" Minseok started laughing.
"No, you sound mostly like Tao."
"Oh holy Lord! I sound like Tao!? That's worse!" Jongdae was still sniffing, but his tears had reduced. But before he had so much as a chance to say another word, the door flew open.
"Hey! I heard that! Not cool bro!" Yelled Tao, but the effect was somewhat destroyed by his wide grin. Behind him, Luhan and Kris were smirking, obviously having been evesdropping, while Lay clutched two mugs, looking very sheepish.
"So no hearts be breakin' tonight and no babies be crying either?" Luhan winked at Chen, who narrowed his eyes and hissed,
"Hyung, get a car, we need to run over a deer." Xiumin laughed and flashed a grateful smile at the others before pushing Chen out of the door.
"Come on, let's get you some ice cream, before you get arrested for animal cruelty towards the deer."
"Animal cruel-?! That deer was cruel to me!" Minseok laughed as they stepped into the chill air of the night. "Besides, I'm not a kid, I want a cappuccino."
"Fine, but you sure do act like one." Jongdae puffed his cheeks out.
"You look like one."
"Your comebacks are getting worse Dae-ah." Jongdae flashed a grin that could only be termed as Jongdae-like to Minseok's mind.

Only when it comes to you hyung.

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For anyone who's notice the way Xiumin and Chen/Minseok and Jongdae are stuck to each other wherever they go, even if the translator isn't present.
This is my take on the relationship between the two boys.. I mean men... :P

From My Dreams

I am blind, for I cannot see. I am mute, for I cannot speak. Through no fault of mine own am I this way, yet the world around me treats me as if it were so. Am I to understand that accident's are my fault? Am I to confess that I intended to lose my vision and voice to become a burden to others? Am I to believe that someone could ever wish to lose their voice, much less their sight? Am I to say that I revel in the eternal darkness that surrounds my every waking hour? Am I to also say that I revel in not being able to seek comfort through voicing my thoughts, thoughts which I have no way to communicate, thoughts which will remain in the deepest crevices of my mind, never to come to light? But do not pity, for I can still touch, taste, smell, hear, but most importantly dream.
I dream the same dream each night. It is only momentous, but those moments leave me with the warmth an comfort that I lack in my waking life. In my dreams, the colours are beautiful- the reds are vivid, the blues sparkle and the whites are the purest. The skies are clear and the wind blows softly across my face. My light summer frock floats lightly about and a man, in a cardigan and jeans, who's face I never remember, walks beside me. We just walk, for as long as the dream lasts, we walk. Each time, we hold hands, smile at each other, and then as the dream fades away, he says something but as I open my eyes to a black world, I never remember what it was. It does not negate the fact that I feel warmth bubbling from the pits of my stomach, that leaves a smile on my lips- of course wiped clean when I'm tipped out of bed onto the floor and orders are barked into the air, in a harsh woman's voice to start being useful to the household. I don't know whether it is shame or hurt that prevents me from calling the said woman my mother.
The dream stays with me trough the day, the bright colours in my minds eye, till I am ready to be enveloped by it again at night. Until, I'm woken one night to the melodious sound of a male voice, next door, that forces me out of my bed and onto the balcony to hear better. The journey is perilous. I grip the wall tight, lest I fall three stories down. But the labour is worth it. The voice is beautiful, with the right amount of husk in it that makes it manly and not just sweet. But footsteps in the hallway cut my momentary elation short. Yes, I am worse kept than a prisoner at my own home. I stumble into the room, my knee catches the corner of the bed. There's a sharp sting and I know I've scraped the skin, but there's nothing much I can do as I bury myself under the covers, falling asleep, cradled by the smooth voice, but not before I hear the last line, that for some reason, brings tears to my eyes-
"Wherever walk together will be paradise..."
That night, for the first time, the man in my dreams says the same thing.
So for the next few nights I sit up in my bed, occasionally peeking out the windows, waiting for the voice to sing me to sleep, not daring to venture out for the fear of being discovered by someone at home and then paying all hell for it. Each night it is the same sing that lulls me to sleep and each night it is the same words that fill my eyes to the brim. Then one night, the voice seems closer. Temptation and curiosity win me over as my legs make their way to the balcony. My hands fumble around the latch before I can slide the door open. There is a gust of fresh air, the unorchestrated symphony of crickets and cicadas, a trip, a fall and then two strong arms wrap around my waist and pulls me straight. The touch is unfamiliar. It's gentle, kind, almost the same feeling as from my dreams. For a moment I turn my face to what I hope would be this person's, till he uses a finger to gently turn my face, with a soft,
"I'm here." For a while I clench and unclench my fists and then, with hesitant fingers reach out to his face, which I miss for sure. Slender fingers wrap around my wrist and and gently pull it to meet a soft cheek. He's real. "You're the girl who was in the accident a few months ago.....?" I nod shakily, letting my hand slip over the slack of his jaw, his soft cheeks and then his lips, which part slightly under the touch. "I-I'm sorry... I saw you out here once and the leaning out every night ever since and then I just had to- not that I'm a creep, or any thing of that sort- I live next door and I stepped over into your bal- and I'll stop talking now..." I cover my mouth in a silent laughter. "Wh-why do you...?" He asks, and I'm standing close enough to feel his breath.
'Your voice,' I mouth silently and wonder if he has understood but it seems he has because he mumbles a soft 'thank you'.
There is a sound from inside the house in the silence of the night and I clutch wildly at the fabric of his shirt. His hands naturally wrap around my waist and pull me close. But panic has overtaken my mind as I struggle to break free from what might be the only ounce of kindness I have experienced in a long time, and scramble towards the door, banging my forehead, my only concern being that it might have awoken the entire house... an arm wraps around my waist and another around my shoulder and leads me to my bed. There's no trip, no fall, no bumps, no scratches, the blanket gently falls over me and a soft hand tenderly caresses my cheek. This is kindness I have not felt in a long time. This is a touch I have not felt before. The desire to keep it rises rapidly and I grab the wrist and look up with wide, unseeing eyes, into what I hope is the face of the person.
Stay.
The hesitation is almost instantaneous. With a jolt of horror, I pull my hand away, having realised that I have just asked an absolute stranger to- but human kindness is almost difficult to comprehend as gentle hands push me further into the bed and the bed sinks under the weight of a body that sits next to me.
As the night grows, he ends up reclining against the wall with me on his chest, an arm around my waist and the other intertwined with the fingers on my left hand, humming the words that still bring tears to my eyes-
"Wherever we walk together will be paradise..."
I am not a fool. I know there is no promise of a 'better tomorrow'. I know there is no promise of a better anything. There is just this moment, wrapped in an inexplicable feeling of warmth, safety and comfort, that comes from a stranger..... but I am content to live with it for now, until day breaks and I am tumbled headlong into my own waking hell.
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I saw a dream in which I was walking along a beautiful garden with a person who's face I don't remember, but I do remember feeling so happy to be there. That, coupled with the fact that I've suddenly begun to cry every time I hear the end of the first chorus of Exo-K's Angel, is what gave birth to this fic. So feel free to imagine your bias as the stranger in the story.
ElfinJoy

My Ballroom Is Bad- TaoiRis/XiuChen

Huang Zhitao buried his face into his knees, praying for the earth to swallow him where he sat. Around him, the other five Exo M members, sat joking, laughing loudly, hitting each other when the aforementioned jokes did not sit well... Luhan sat at the center of the couch, Kris to his left, Lay on the right. At Lay's feet, Tao sat, still hiding his face. Next to Tao, Xiumin sat while Chen rested his head on his hyung's lap, ignoring the other couch.
"Gwaencha Tao-yah?" Xiumin suddenly noticed the maknae's depression. All five pairs of eyes were now on him. Tao shook his head, while it was still between his knees and mumbled something.
"What did he say?" Asked Chen, turning his head upwards at Xiumin who shrugged and turned back to the maknae.
"Kill me," said Kris and four heads turned to him with a very confused look, but he wasn't paying them any attention. "Tao?" He called but received no response from Tao, though Xiumin noted that the maknae had visibly stiffened. "Tao?" Still no response. By now every other member was watching very carefully."Zhitao? Huang Zhitao!" Tao turned slowly to face the leader, with a disgruntled, petulant look. Luhan covered his smile with a cough, Lay put his attention back to the television, tough the corners of his mouth were tugging upwards, Xiumin and Chen looked at each other desperately trying not to break into laughter at Tao's childishness. Kris was unaware of everything but the panda. "Why do you want us to kill you?" Tao narrowed his eyes at Kris and pouted.
This was too much for Chen who broke out in giggles, while Xiumin slapped his hands on to the younger mouth with lightning fast reflexes, which caused Chen to feel like he was being suffocated, so he thrashed his arms and legs like a fish out of water, while still in resting on his hyung, which in turn caused Xiumin to yelp in pain, which caused Lay, who had zoned-out, to jump in his seat, which in turn, caused Luhan to burst out laughing, which caused Kris and Tao to finally register the world around them.
Lay shook his head and asked, ''If we're going to kill you, we need a reason, or we're going to jail."
"If we listen to the panda and kill him, we'll be in jail anyway," sighed Luhan. Kris sighed and looked back at the maknae.
"Myballroomissobad...." mumbled Tao, while the others looked at him with raised eyebrows, except Kris, who said,
"My ballroom is so bad...? Tao why the hell do you think your ballroom is bad-"
"More importantly, why the hell do you care- oww!! Hyung!!" Chen was smacked on the side of the head by Xiumin.
"Ilooklikeanidiot....." mumbled Tao once more and all eyes went on Kris.
"No, Tao, you do not look like an idiot." Said Kris, exasperated.
"And besides," began Chen once more, still resting on Xiumin's crossed legs, "I was dancing with you-owww!!! Hyung that freaking hurts!!" He yelled to Xiumin, who had smacked him on the side of the head again.
"Then stop talking!" Hissed Xiumin, undertone, which shut Chen, who did not want to face an angry Baozi.
"Ignore him Tao, you and the duijjang looked really cool dancing," said Luhan kindly. There was a sharp intake of breath on his left. Tao on the other hand, snorted, and said,
"Cool? A bunch of monkeys could have looked cooler ballroom dancing and a bunch of martial artists trying to kill each other could have looked more romantic..."
Luhan could almost feel an aura of negativity radiating from his left and Lay hastily added," Not at all, very very cool. Didn't you hear the screams?"
"But that's because they like...." began Chen, and then stopped taking a peak above at Xiumin's face, with a half-afraid look. Xiumin on the other hand, looked genuinely interested in what his dongsaeng had to say. "Aren't you going to whack my head?" Asked Chen incredulously.
"Do you want to be hit?" Asked Xiumin, cocking his head to one side. For a moment, Chen wanted to reach up and pinch his hyung's cheeks. But he just turned to face Tao and said, all the while his eyes darting between his Hyung and the maknae,
"I meant, they like the two of them together..... are you sure you won't just ninja attack me?" He demanded  from Xiumin who laughed and pushed him gently to a sitting position.
"Luhan, Lay, you guys, look at the time!" He said sharply. "You guys promised to help clean the rooms. I'm not doing it alone again." Luhan and Lay rose after a customary bit of grumbling. Chen, however, stayed sitting as Xiumin had left him, with a strange lost look on his face.
"Jongdae-ah," called Xiumin and Chen snapped out of his daydream, like he'd been hit again.
"Why are you calling me?!" He demanded incredulously, "I don't even live with you people."
"You owe me," said Xiumin.
"Owe you? What? When? Why? How? Where?" Demanded Chen, still refusing to move.
"Come and I'll tell you," hissed Xiumin, once again and Chen rose, half grudgingly and half willingly.
This left the leader and maknae in an awkward silence from the previous conversation. Finally Kris cleared his throat.
"Sorry, if I made you look like an idiot..." he said. Tao looked at him and shook his head.
"Forget it, I looked like an idiot without your help.... I couldn't waltz to save my life." Tao sighed.
"No you would use Wushu, only an actual idiot would use waltz.... why does it matter to you, anyway?" Kris joined Tao on the floor, seating himself next to the maknae.
"How do I call myself a "romantic" panda when I can't even freaking waltz!!"
"If it makes you feel any better, I can't either," offered Kris. Tao looked at him in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me?! How does it matter if you can, or can't?!" Kris was a little taken aback. "You're THE DUIZHANG!!! You show up singing and knowing nothing but ABCD, and they'll worship you for it!" Kris laughed and Tao looked a little insulted.
"Huang Zhitao, as your duijjang, don't underestimate yourself, if you do nothing but show up, that itself will cause people to worship you, got me?" Tao looked a little flattered at the words.
"You think so...?" Asked Tao, nervously. Kris rose and laughed.
"Now you're talking like an actual idiot." He pulled Tao to his feet and smirked at his dongsaeng. "And as for your original problem. Well just have to get better at waltz then, dui bu dui?"
For the first time in the evening, Tao laughed. "Dui, dui."
Outside the door, Luhan turned to Xiumin and said, " you are a genius!! Letting The Chen loose at the correct moment! And smooth move pulling him out." Xiumin grinned and replied,
"You weren't too bad yourself, bringing it up at the perfect opportunity."
"We make a great team," said Xiumin, as they exchanged a soft high-five. There was a small cough behind them. Chen stood with his arms crossed across his chest. Luhan raised an eyebrow for a second before declaring, "I am expecting a call..." to no one in particular and slipping out. Which caused Xiumin to roll his eyes, obviously having caught onto Luhan's drift.
Once he was out of earshot, Chen turned to Xiumin.
"You weren't too bad yourself," he mimicked, with appropriate faces, and then snorted."Be careful hyung, or you'll have an angry Korean maknae trampling you underfoot for fraternising with his deer, all puns intended." Xiumin laughed and Chen's eyes narrowed at him.
"The angry maknae is not the one I see doing the trampling, at this moment." He's said, paused for a while as heard the music in the living room and then turned toward his room, and spoke once more, "come on."
"I am not cleaning your room and I owe you absolutely NO favours." Excalimed Chen. Xiumin shook his head and replied,
"No, I owe you, come on, I'll get you bubble tea." Chen snorted and called out to the receeding back of his hyung,
"You can't buy me with that. I'm not Sehun! And I'm NOT moving until you tell me what's going on and why the devil do you owe me , now?!" But he followed the older male out of the house, this time, entirely willing.
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Hi guys, sorry if this is OOC, I just had to, I love them so much now :D
Xie xie for reading!
ElfinJoy

Imagine- D.O. and Kyuhyun

(1960s)

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You sit at the Regent Club lounge, waiting for your husband. You're the only single female there, mostly because your husband is the only husband who would leave a woman like this. But then, he's not your husband, is he? You're just the impostor, who looks just like his runaway American wife, brought in to save his public image from shame. You can almost understand why she ran, to begin with. He has eyes for nothing but his work. The senator lives in the limelight, and nothing of that which is his private life, is private. You of course should not mind. The man really isn't your husband. You're an actor, playing a part and very convincingly so.

"She's my bae~~~by."

Your eyes wander across the room, to the small stage across the room from the bar. The music is slow, sultry and drawn out, not uncommon for lounge-bars. There are two microphones. There are two men on them, dressed immaculately, in rented suits, no doubt, from head to toe, complete with felt hats, you can’t see their eyes, only the lower half of their face.

“Nuga beolin choco~late."

You’re walking in through my door…”

The word chocolate makes you gulp. Not so much as the word itself as the way it was said.  Husky, accented slightly, leaving you breathless for a moment, before you catch yourself. You’re the wife of a senator, it would not do you good to be caught drooling over a bar singer. His heavy breathing into the microphone has left you slightly heated around the collar of your dress. The song picks up in pace, the other singer joins in, but you can still hear the huskiness of the first one, against the others.

“Don’t be too la~~ate.”

He steps away from the microphone with a smirk (never mind what it does to your heart). The other singer takes over in another oriental language (Chinese you assume). This one’s voice has none of the hint of the huskiness. It’s clear, nothing very unusual. The first singer joins in again and then, to your massive disappointment, the song ends. The two singers take of their hats and bow. When they stand, you’re surprised at how young they are. The taller one, the one that sang in Chinese, looks very lean but the most surprising is the face of the shorter one, the one you've been staring at. Now that his doe shaped eyes are showing, and he’s not smirking, but smiling brightly, his face radiates innocence. You snap back to the counter, with a jerk. You ask, in a well-bred voice, that you've trained yourself to in all circumstances, the barman for another sherry and slip in a casual question while accepting the said sherry.

“Who were the men singing just a while ago?”

“They’re locals here,” said the bartender with extreme deference. The American wife of a half American senator must be treated so. You nod in acceptance, afraid to ask anymore. Since your husband came into the office, more and more of his native country have been residing in the States. You know what they all say about him, in hushed, reverent whispers, treating him akin to the Lord. The first half American to become a senator. You suppose you should be proud, but you wonder if his real wife ever was. Your thoughts are broken by a husky, voice, with the English just slightly accented with a touch of the orient,

“One Scotch-on-the-rocks please.” The bartender gives it to him, with not an inch of the politeness that he’d shown to you, but this man just flashes him a bright smile and hands him the money. Only then does he notice you. He nearly blinds you with his smile and bows deeply, as is the custom in the orient. “Such an honor to meet you Madam.” You will never get used to the way you’re treated like a queen (you’re an impostor with a crown) but you almost smile coyly at this man, catching yourself in the last moment, instead giving him a tight lipped smile and offering your hand.

“How do you do? It was a pleasure listening to your singing.” It’s very, polite, matter-of-factly, and you’re very proud of your self-control at this very moment.

“You heard us?” His hand flies back to his neck as he rubs it in embarrassment. You nod politely, only reminding yourself that an extremely girlish, vigorous nod would seem out of character (for a while you wish you weren't playing this damned one). “Aish! How embarrassing!” He says.

“Not at all, you were both good.” Actually, you’re thinking that his partner was good, he was better than brilliant. You’re outlook towards “chocolate” has been changed for life, thanks to him. He blushes like a schoolboy and looks at his feet momentarily before thanking you and he looks adorable doing it.

“If I may ask, where is the Senator?” You take a sip of your drink; your throat has dried up considerably, before answering.

“He will be here shortly,” you say while wishing the Senator didn't exist. He smiles at you (there goes your heart again) and says,

“I don’t suppose the Senator himself has time to come to such places, though having Your Ladyship makes up for it more than enough.” You nearly blush beet red at that. He shuffles his feet for a second before asking, “I wonder if it would be impertinent of me to join you.”

“Please do.” You can’t be rude, after all to your husband’s countrymen (but that’s merely the excuse). He sits down next to you and asks.

“It must be wonderful to travel so much.” The accent is very attractive to your ears. You lose yourself in it so much that your control breaks as you sigh and say,

“Are you kidding me?” Your eyes widen in shock as you realize what you've just uttered and look around swiftly, and frantically, to check no one’s heard your slip. He on the other hand laughs.

“Yes I suppose that is a rather silly question to ask.” You wonder if he’s actually understood the implications of your words. He doesn't show any signs so you relax your tensed body (of course just enough to still seem proud and upright). “I've never traveled anywhere but from home to America.”

“What is it like there?” You ask curiously. He furrows his eyebrows rather adorably and shakes his head.

“I don’t remember much of it… but it was very different from here,” there is a sort of faraway look in his eyes and you allow yourself you glance over his features carefully. His milky white skin, the round doe-like eyes, the dazzling smile, the gentle curve of his jawline, you become aware of his voice once more as he talks again, “I was six when I came here, but I remember enough of home to know there was a large garden, that was my favorite part of the house, my grandfather’s fruit trees at one end, his flowers at the other and green grass rolling in between. That I miss here, climbing the trees in summer to eat frits with my cousins, hearing the birds singing at dawn and dusk….  once, I remember, I fell out of a tree and mother-“He stops short of finishing and laughs, the enchantment of his words broken. “I am sorry, I must be boring you.”

“Not the least bit,” you say with abstract politeness. In actuality you could listen to his voice forever. Suddenly he rises from his seat and bows, but you realize his gaze his directed towards someone behind you.

“There you are,” says a smooth, well-bred voice. You can hardly stand to smile at the man who proposes to be your husband. “I hope my wife has not been troubling you Mr.….?” You realize you don’t know his name either.

“Do Kyungsoo,” he bows deeply once more, “it’s a pleasure to meet you Senator Cho.”

“Likewise,” says Cho Kyuhyun and shakes hands. You rise and say,

“It was nice speaking, Do Kyungsoo ssi,” He looks mildly surprised at your knowledge of Korean honorifics but bows deeply and shakes your proffered hand.

“The pleasure was all mine,” he says and you almost curse out loud when your posing husband leads you away.

As you take your coat (and Cho helps you into it, you are in public after all) your eyes wander back to the inside of the bar, where Do Kyungsoo and his fellow singer are lounging in the chairs. Your face heats up rapidly and you turn back to Cho Kyuhyun slightly breathless and walk with him out the door. He looks at you in mild surprise and you wonder if for the first time, the Senator has understood what you feel.

Too bad you’re stuck living this lie, you think you he leads you to the car. Too bad you can’t go back to your old one. Too bad you can’t go back to the club either. Too bad you can’t go back to Do Kyungsoo.

As you sit in the car, you sneak a glance as the man whose wife you claim to be. The honey coloured hair, the Asian eyes, the pink lips that curl into a smirk very easily, the sharp jawline, the pale skin…. Yes, Senator Cho Kyuhyun could very easily be called handsome, very handsome, and very understandably women stared at him as he passed them by, but too bad he couldn't care any less about his looks. Too bad he didn't care about much other than his work.

You're lying on a firm chest, someone is stroking your hair gently and humming the words of a familiar song. You gently open your eyes and lift yourself up, the other person does the same. Suddenly you're too close, your lips are too close. You're shocked-

So shocked that you snap out of your dreams. You know the man from your dreams....
You grudgingly walk down to for breakfast, find your husband seated there and curtly nod at each other. 
"Your face is red." He says, over his news paper. You already know that.
"It's my face," you retort. He shakes his head and returns to the paper. This is your usual form of exchange.
You hide yourself behind a newspaper too, and wait for a few moments before peering across the table. Cho Kyuhyun is handsome, very handsome. Too bad he's not more humane...
But mostly too bad he's not Do Kyungsoo...

Yes too bad.

Your "husband" the Senator....

Or your fleeting acquaintance the bar singer....?

.

.

.

For... no one in particular,

I just had to get this one out of my system! Miya, don't you tease me about this!

And please forgive me Kyu~! You still are my ultimate bias!!!

This is the song DO and Chen were singing in the lounge-bar.