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The rubber soles of Changbin’s worn black vans padded down the hall. The harsh, artificial lighting cast a sickly yellow glow on the stained carpet and cracked plaster—but what could you expect from campus housing?
Changbin is the head RA of dorm building 19, and tonight he’s been sent on a mission. What mission, you ask? One of his henchmen (a freshmen intern) tipped him off that apparently, a kid in his resident building has a stash of illegal hermit crabs in his dorm.
Changbin is usually called to reprimand the typical university housing issues; drunken antics ending in property defacement, dazed stoners locked out of “their rooms” only in actuality to be found staggering about on a completely different floor. But Hermit crabs—along with any other type of animal—are strictly not allowed in campus housing. Hence, the illicit crustaceans and their owner must be dealt with by the firm hand of the law.
The firm hand of the law, in this case, being an exhausted Seo Changbin who just wants to be in bed watching anime.
But obviously the universe had different plans for him, which is why he’s now stood in front of an unassuming door instead of cuddled up in bed with his myriad of pokemon plushies.
Building 19, dorm 9. The last room in the hall, right by the emergency stairway.
Except, sloppily taped in front of the metal 9, is a paper cut out of a number 6. It looks like it was drawn by a child, and a not very artistically inclined one at that.
Dorm 69. How mature.
Changbin didn’t expect anything else from a bunch of dirty hermit crab smugglers.
Already wishing for tonight to be over with, Changbin raised a tiny fist and knocked on the door. The paper “6” vibrated with the force of his fist against the wood, and Changbin had the innate urge to tear it off, coupled with a demerit slip for vandalizing university property.
But he didn’t—because the door in question was suddenly thrown open.
“Welcome to HanLix’s dorm, home of HanLix. This is Han speaking, how can I help you?” Announced a twiggy, lanky kid now stood in the doorway.
A twiggy, lanky kid now only identified as Han.
"Han” couldn't be older than a sophomore, with a head of hopelessly ruffled brown hair—as if he had just rolled out of bed, and it's not well past 7 in the evening. His cheeks are adorably rounded; Changbin can admit that from a completely objective standpoint. His eyes are large and sparkling, and he's looking at Changbin with palpable expectation shining through.
“What?” Changbin could only supply in the wake of that oddly robotic and uncannily practiced...greeting?
Greeting. Of some sort.
“Welcome to HanLix’s dorm, home of HanLix. This is Han speaking, how can I—” the boy started again, not missing a beat. He's like one of those plush toys that speak a single line of dialogue when you press a button on their paw. Or a humanoid-answering machine, save for the wires and chords. Unless he’s hiding some under the oversized, fluffy sweater hanging off his lithe frame.
Changbin’s eye twitched, desperately trying to corral his soul from escaping his body.
Han doesn’t have the fetid stench of convenience store beer on his breath. His hazel eyes aren’t bloodshot, or even heavy-lidded. Their apartment, despite being mostly covered in inky shadow, isn’t brimming with the unmistakable smoky haze or heady scent of weed.
This kid is sober. Almost painfully so.
“I heard you the first time! I don't have time for this—I need to talk to a Lee Felix, I've gotten a tip that he has illegal crabs in this dorm.” Changbin snapped, valiantly trying to keep his temper in check. But that seems like a futile effort when HanLix are involved.
As if on cue, Han’s doe-eyes widened in what can only be described as...offense? Shock? Changbin doesn’t know, and he can already feel his brain cells calyficing with each passing second.
He could feel his annoyance bubbling up in his tummy, like a paper mache volcano filled with too much baking soda—if this kid, this Han pulls anymore tricks, Changbin’s gonna blow.
Speaking of which, Changbin expected the kid still stood coolly in the doorway to...you know... leave. To retrieve Felix. Like a normal person would.
Rookie mistake, Seo Changbin.
“Yo, Felix! This Gerard Way lookin’ ass said you have crabs!” Han hollered over his shoulder, echoing back into the recesses of their apartment.
Changbin slapped a hand to his forehead with a sickening fleshly smack, racking down his skin and desperately attempting to wrench the exasperation from his flesh. He made a point to avoid his eyes, so he didn’t smudge his thick kohl eyeliner into a raccoon-like mess.
Just because Changbin exclusively wears black, perpetually has obsidian liner on his eyes and a mop of jet black hair doesn’t automatically make him a…“ Gerard Way lookin’ ass” ! He just happens to have goth sensibilities! He’s not punk, he’s not alt-rock, and he’s certainly not scene. Seo Changbin is a proud goth. Just ask the hundreds of nubby black eyeliner pencils and pentagram necklaces back at his own dorm.
Call him a Siouxsie and the Banshees lookin’ ass, sure! But does this Han kid even realize My Chemical Romance aren’t goth?! Some people! Changbin can already feel his skin prickle and crawl with irritation under his onyx hoodie. His pale cheeks began to burn with disdain, while his stomach pinched in a physical side-effect of his irritation.
But not even ten seconds later a reply came screaming back, startling Changbin from his internal vexation.
“Hell no! I've never had an STI in my entire life!” shouted an impossibly deep voice. A voice so deep and cavernous, it was as if a black hole suddenly grew vocal cords.
Changbin felt a rush of chills run down his spine, forcing a barely audible gulp down his throat. The shivers instantly cooled off his heated cheeks, leaving them drained alabaster white and ghostly.
Changbin has always been considered relatively “intimidating” by the general student body at his university. That's one of the reasons he was asked to be an RA—his patented resting I-won't-hesitate-to-kill-you face and eternally kohl lined eyes send waves of fear through the majority of unsuspecting freshmen he's sent to deal with.
But this Felix kid? He sounds terrifying. He sounds like a fucking demon; if his voice is anything to go by.
Han shrugged, his dainty shoulders raising noncommittally. “He's coming.” is all he supplied to a now vaguely terrified Changbin; simple and devoid of emotion. And with that... warning? Han padded away, back into the shadowy depths of their dorm. A few seconds ago Changbin would have loved to football-punt Han into the next continent over, but now? Now, he’d do anything to keep the squirrelly boy safely planted in the doorway as backup.
But now he’s alone, so all Changbin could do is steel his nerves and brace for the worst—the worst, being a meaty fist unceremoniously hurled straight into his face. His eyes may always be painted black with eyeliner and artfully smudged shadow, but a black eye isn’t really in the bounds of his gothic aesthetic. He’s never been much of a fan of mottled purple anyways.
As soon as it began, Changbin’s fearful musings for the future of his features grinded to a screeching halt.
“Sup, Welcome to the Black Parade reject.” It's that voice, that unfathomably husky voice that seems even deeper than the Marianas Trench.
Changbin’s gaze darted about the murky apartment barely visible behind the door. There's no demonic muscle head with biceps the size of Antarctica bearing down on him. There’s no 7-foot tall biker dude with glowing red eyes and a snarl curling his lips gazing at Changbin like a lamb to the slaughter.
But there is a kid now leaning casually against the metal doorframe; thin and slight and probably the same age as Han. He has a mop of shimmering blonde hair, the tresses looking incredibly soft and feathery and glittering like threads of gold in the harsh lighting. His lips are plump and vaguely pouty, almost like a cartoon feline. His eyes are heavy-lidded and dark, yet they still harbor a spark of impish mischief.
And—holy shit—are those freckles?! This kid has a splatter of auburn freckles fanning his cheeks and across the bridge of his button nose. A few stray freckles crept up to dot just beneath his eyes, like shooting stars that lost their way during a meteor shower.
“Hello? Hot Topic? Are you the one accusing me of having an STD?” The kid opened his glossed lips once again and—oh no.
This kid has the voice of a demon straight from Hell?! He looks like a fucking fairy for god’s sake!
They really don’t pay Changbin enough for this—he needs a raise after tonight.
The kid with eyes like a magical girl and the voice of a titan is still staring Changbin down; his sharp eyes clearly unimpressed.
Oh right—he should probably respond. Like a normal person.
Oh god, the weirdness from their dorm must be contagious and now it’s infecting poor, unsuspecting Changbin.
The RA shook his head of thick raven locks, willing himself to plummet back to reality.
The contraband hermit crabs, right.
“U-uh, are you—”
“The Lix in HanLix? The one and only. Now what can I help you with, 2006 MySpace page?”
Changbin’s eye twitched again. That takes care of that , then.
“Well, Lix, do you have a tank of hermit crabs in your dorm?” Changbin gritted out, electing to ignore the umpteenth unflattering nickname Felix has assigned him in the measly 30 seconds since they’ve met.
Felix seemed to consider Changbin’s words, his plump lips pursing into a firm line. It was only during this silent contemplation that Changbin’s subconscious decided to drop an atomic bombshell on his brain.
He’s...really pretty, Changbin thought to himself, unconsciously shoveling a heavy gulp down his throat. Whoa...where did that come from?! This Felix kid is not pretty, whatsoever! Sure his features appear sculpted by the gods themselves, his lips look enrobed in pure satin and his skin looks even softer than the richest ream of suede, but he’s not pretty. Also, his chestnut eyes harbor more shimmering stars than the entire universe could hope to contain; but he’s not pretty.
He’s not pretty—he’s fucking gorgeous.
And Changbin still firmly stands by the fact that he needs a goddamn raise.
“Yeah, I do have them. Wanna come see my kids?” Felix abruptly declared, the re-appearance of his cavernous voice effectively shocking Changbin out of his Lix from HanLix- induced trance. There is now a blinding grin stretching Felix’s lips, and Changbin swears it radiated more heat than the autumn sun.
But Changbin forced himself to ignore that beaming, endearingly goofy smile.
Aha! He admitted to it! Now all Changbin has to do is fill out the demerit slip and he’ll be off! Check mate, Lee Felix!
Second rookie mistake, Seo Changbin. Nothing is ever that simple.
“No, I don’t wanna see them, Felix. Do you realize I’m your RA, and you shouldn’t have told me—hey!” Changbin’s rant froze in his throat as a hand suddenly fastened onto his wrist; soft and velvety, and impossibly warm.
“Come on!” Felix exclaimed in delight, cutting Changbin’s words to the quick as he jerked forward to drag Changbin into the bowels of their dorm. Changbin, either too resigned to his fate to care or physically unable to force himself to pry Felix’s hand from his wrist, let himself be towed into the modest apartment. Undoubtedly against his better judgement.
Changbin barely had a moment to take in his newly changed surroundings, but as Felix hauled him deeper into their dorm Changbin spared a quick glance into their living room; Han is draped across the worn sofa, like a lazing house cat. His eyes are gently closed, and his phone is left open and forgotten on his chest. The abandoned device bathed the gentle slopes of Han’s face in blue light, accentuating his already puffy cheeks.
Vaguely cute—Changbin’s just being objective.
Wait a minute, what's that thing in Han’s mouth? There's a long, pure white stick poking from between his lips, and—oh hell no.
“Hey! You're not allowed to smoke in dorms!” Changbin skidded to a stop, and barked the reprimand at a clearly dozing Han.
The boy teetering on the edge of sleep cracked his eyes open, and Changbin could feel the invisible daggers being shot straight into his chest from the glower alone. And then, Han snatched the “cigarette” from his lips, and... bit it. Clean in two. Oh.
“It's candy, you absolute moldy nutsack.” Han drawled, his annoyance on the verge of tangible.
Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be a candy cigarette? As if tonight couldn't get any weirder.
Just another night on the job for Seo “moldy nutsack” Changbin.
Changbin lost the mental energy to respond around 4 sentences ago; which is to his benefit, because Felix took his vacant stare as a cue to restart their journey into the carnival of horrors that is “HanLix’s dorm”.
Felix gave Changbin's wrist a light tug, and pivoted down a simple corridor. Before Changbin knew it he was standing in a bedroom. With Felix’s hand still firmly clamped on his wrist.
It’s a relatively nice bedroom as well; as far as college dorms go. The walls are spotless white and peppered with polaroids, stuck to the plaster with pastel washi tape. Fairy lights slink down the walls, dainty little pinpricks of gilded light seeping into the room. There’s a stack of textbooks on the small side table next to his bed; from his spot in the doorway Changbin could barely make out one from advanced statistics, and one from macro-economics. Not bad, for a hermit crab bootlegger.
And—oh. There it is, on Felix’s desk. The hermit crab tank. Speak of the devil.
He didn’t even attempt to hide it! It’s just... out there! With a heat lamp and gravel and even a toy pirate ship sitting neat and pretty in the center of the tank.
All he has to do now is snap a photo, write out the demerit slip, and then he can—
“Let me introduce you to my babies.” Felix stated with a startling amount of seriousness. Should Changbin be scared?
“No, Felix I don’t—” unsurprisingly, Lee Felix wasn’t hearing it. Literally. He placed a single finger to Changbin’s lips, successfully zipping the stunned RA’s mouth closed. He softly pushed Changbin onto the plush comforter on his bed, the poor RA too taken aback by the contact to react—Changbin mentally buckled himself in for the roller coaster of madness about to embark nonetheless.
He also tried not to linger on the feeling of Felix’s finger ghosting over his lips.
And while Changbin was willing the fevered blush off his cheeks, Felix took it upon himself to open the latch on the top of the tank.
“This is Debbie,” Felix began, gesturing with his chin at a hermit crab snuggly nestled on his palm, like a docile, 10-legged lapdog. In fact, both his hands are now completely covered in the little crustaceans, a tornado of multicolored shells scurrying over the skin of Felix’s palm. How many does this kid have?! How many hermit crabs can one person have?
If Lee Felix is anything to go by, many.
“This is Juanito, Eric, Kkami—he’s named after my friend’s dog—this is Gyu, Toto, CB—he’s named after my friend, Christopher—”
Changbin tuned out the over-eager hermit crab parent after the 6th crustacean introduction. His soul left his body after the 3rd. It’s now free-floating somewhere high above the clouds, spirited away from the personification of nonsense that is Felix and his crabby squad.
Changbin’s eyes are painfully blank and vacant as he dazedly stared at Felix coo and gently pet the iridescent, conical shells of his crabby buddies.
“Wait, that’s only eight! That means I have a crab I forgot to name!” Felix announced in what appeared to be some form of horror, his lips parting in surprise and his eyes widening in his head. Then his eyes shot up to meet Changbin’s detached gaze, and the RA felt his heart careen straight to his toes.
“What’s your name, knock off Gerard Way?”
Changbin was a bit taken aback by the sudden request, but he at least had enough piece of mind left to grumble “Your friend already made that joke,” under his breath. Felix either didn’t hear him, or purposefully ignored him.
He has a feeling it’s the latter.
“My name is Changbin.” The RA announced, voice flat and dry; he’s just surprised Felix didn’t cut him off again.
Changbin could virtually see the gears turning in Felix’s head, and it made him slightly more nervous than it should have.
“Changbin, huh. Ok then, I’ll name this one Binnie!” Felix excitedly proclaimed, as he thrust his hand directly into Changbin’s face. There’s a single crustacean held out in his palm, scuttling about with stilted, jerking movement.
Its shell is polished ebony black, and Changbin couldn’t stop his previously stoic expression from softening. It is kinda cute, he can’t deny that.
“Um..thanks? I guess.” Changbin mumbled, as he inquisitively peaked at his hermit-crab namesake. The poor arthropod looks horribly bored, its beady eyes flitting about the room as it continued to traipse across Felix’s palm.
Felix seems appropriately satisfied, giving a sagely nod of his head in return, before strolling over to place Binnie the hermit crab safely in the tank with his crabby cohorts.
“You do realize you’re not allowed to have those in a dorm though, right?” Changbin doesn’t know why he’s bothering to ask.
“Why not? They’re not hurting anyone!” Felix groused, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest with a huff—confirming Changbin’s previous sentiment.
Changbin rolled his eyes. “Look, Felix, they just aren’t allowed ok? And as your RA I’m legally obligated to either give you a fined demerit slip, or temporarily suspend you from any extracurricular activities you participate in.”
Felix’s scowl deepened; until a sly, all-too mischievous smirk upturned his lips. The expression made a blanket of ice encase Changbin’s heart.
“You can suspend me from the swim team, Binnie. But, I get to take you out on a date in return.” Felix drawled, leveling Changbin with a knowing grin that seemed awfully cat-like. Like the Cheshire Cat, straight from topsy turvy Wonderland.
“I don’t think you understand how this works, Felix— oh.” Changbin’s eyes popped out of his head when Felix’s... offer finally made the agonizingly long journey up to his brain. Changbin felt his heart pound behind his ribs, thrashing and freakishly off-tempo like the often manic music he blasts through his earbuds.
A heated blush the same ruby color as freshly picked cherries painted Changbin’s cheeks, tinging the skin under his his kohl lined eyes a rich burgundy.
Lee Felix, the more than slightly odd Lix half of HanLix, is asking Changbin on a date?
He may be a bit strange—and a dirty hermit crab owning miscreant, at that—but Changbin can't deny the magnetic pull he feels towards Felix. It may be a turn of events just as odd as the blonde boy and his illicit crabby friends, but Changbin suddenly feels very, very lucky to have been sent on tonight's “mission”.
“O-ok…” Changbin pushed through his suddenly tight throat, averting his gaze to his tattered black vans; he could still feel Felix’s gaze trained solely on him.
“Great, meet me here next Wednesday at six.” Felix virtually purred, gesturing to the hall outside his door. The last door in the hall—apartment (6)9. When did Changbin make the modest trek out of Felix’s room and back into the fluorescent light of the hallway? He has no idea; he must have been too hypnotized by Felix asking him out to notice his legs piloting him out of the dorm.
Changbin just nodded, silently and intelligently as ever. Felix smirked, and maybe Changbin jumped the gun by writing off Felix’s possible demonic ancestry.
He seems pretty damn devilish right about now.
Felix left Changbin with a final, wicked wink. And then the door to the apartment shut with a rusty metallic click, leaving Changbin stood in stiff isolation as he racked his brain over what the hell just happened.
Maybe he doesn’t need that raise. Maybe he got all he ever could have wanted—or needed— tonight.
Who would have thought busting a contraband hermit crab owner could end so...wonderfully? Changbin, for one, certainly never did.
But he can admit that he suddenly has a certain fondness for a certain species of shelled crustaceans. What a surprising change of heart—but Changbin is sure stranger things have happened.
Stranger things, like Changbin jotting down “go to HanLix’s dorm next Wednesday at 6” on his calendar.