Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jongdae sings out the closing line of their hit song 'Broken Party' as Suho's voice intertwined with his own. Supporting them is Chanyeol on the bass, his deeper voice filling out their vocals. Slowly they each faded down through the decrescendo until Yixing's piano carries them out.

Claps from their manager rang out. "Great rehearsal!"

The director comes out over the speakers offering some last few notes of feedback but otherwise that is it. The next time they perform this set they'd be in front of the biggest crowd of their lives. Swarms of people piling into the Olympic stadium to watch this award show.

"Hard to believe this is real, don't you think?" Chanyeol shakes out his hair as they leave the stage.

The members, including Jongdae, nod their ascent. Everyone is a bit quieter than usual today; nerves eating at the bottom of their bellies.

Their instruments would be packed up and then another group would be on stage to rehearse. They'd done a technical rehearsal very early this morning but it's nice to do a second one in their costumes and not be worrying about lighting or placement on the stage.

Chanyeol breaks off into a jog, no doubt in a hurry to return to their dressing room. It would still be a few hours before it was their turn on stage.

Jongdae sips a gulp of the iced Americano their manager had given him as soon as they left the stage with relief. He's been up since 3am today and needs all the coffee he could get. At least with music shows you could be done for the day before noon but clearly award shows are a completely different beast.

He slings his arm around Yixing's shoulder, neither of them in a hurry to catch up with Chanyeol. They had plenty of time until it was their turn and with Jongdae's stupid, short legs, he doesn't stand at chance anyways. At least Junmyeon feels his pain.

And Jongdae has his team with him. He's sure they'll play games in their dressing room and that should help wake him up. He's also hoping that as a rookie group the cameras might not focus on them too much for reactions during the actual awards show.

Suddenly Chanyeol comes running back. "Hey do any of you want to stay and watch the next rehearsal? I just found out that AeXon is on next! I've been so obsessed with them lately."

"We know," they all reply as one, Jongdae a beat behind. They must be the group Chanyeol's always listening to and talking about. Some sort of light, girly pop, typical of a certain preference of Chanyeol's. It's… not a preference of Jongdae's.

Chanyeol laughs, rubbing the back of his head. "I can't be sorry for repping great music! Anways, there's no way we'll have time to see Xiumin, Baekhyun and Kai perform during the ceremony with our current schedule."

Yixing gasps and Chanyeol nods and continues, "I just asked and they're performing right after us but Donghae says we can stay if we want and see them now."

The rest of the members are immediately enthusiastic about this idea and soon Jongdae is in seats with the rest of them.

A trio of women walks in, confident in spite of the tall heels. They're in short little dresses of various kinds, one on the left sporty, one on the right elegant. But the one in the middle is cutesy, hair in a bob, blue dress covered in frills and bows. She must see them in the seats in front of the stage because she blows a kiss and Jongdae squirms, trying to control the fluttering in his stomach. Now is really not the time for horny thoughts.

His friends are giggling and warmth swells in Jongdae's cheeks. He knows they're not laughing at him; how could someone notice his reactions when there's someone like her up on stage? They must be giddy at being on the receiving end of fanservice for once and Jongdae tries to tell himself that's all his reaction is. But it's a losing battle. This performance isn't a private show for him, a kiss to the small crowd of his band shouldn't make jealousy curl in his stomach.

The music starts and as Jongdae expected it's dreadful girly pop. Their vocals once they start to sing are unnecessarily high and probably pitch corrected. The lyrics are a mishmash of stock phrases delivered with artificial naïveté that belies the suggestive dancing on stage. But god the dancing. Hip pops that tease, the short hem of her skirt floating up to reveal matching safety shorts; deep squats into a filthy sort of saw motion, one leg out in front; body rolls that push her chest out over and over.

There's a decent belt from one of the other members at one point but then the one in blue is strutting around the stage in her towering heels, easily moving through the fierce choreo. There's some sort of bridge where she sings in a breathy falsetto (needs more support, with the right training she could be much more confident in those high notes) and then the song is somehow over. She catches his eye and puts a hand over the moue of her mouth in an exaggerated impression of a gasp, her full chest heaving and making the ruffles shake. His own chest hurts and he belatedly remembers he should be breathing.

Applause rings out through the ringing in his ears and yes he should be clapping, that's the polite thing to do even if it is trash music.

Trash music, not deserving of the stage, yes that's what he should focus on, not how deeply she bows for their audience of four. His friends are chattering excitedly and the director comes up to the three performers on stage, talking about backing track volume and voice processing and look at they were barely singing, just like he thought! It's apples and oranges what his band does and what they do and frankly it's insulting that they're up for the same award!

There's a moment where he feels like she must be trying to catch his gaze, sweat glazing her skin and making her glow and—

He scowls at the floor, eyes torn away.

Soon enough they're heading back to their dressing room, his friends enthusing about the performance about how sexy Kai is and how jealous they are of Baekhyun's voice, how bewitching Xiumin is. If this is what they plan to talk about until they'll called up, Jongdae will lose his mind. Or spend the whole time listening to music with his noise cancelling headphones.

There's loud noises behind them, some kind of argument and Jongdae turns with the other members, voices now silent, to see what's going on. Only a short distance away is the girl group, whatever they're called, who must also be on their way back from the dressing room.

The girl from before steps between her group members and someone new just as the new person (a sasaeng, a producer, someone else?) is reaching forward as thought to grab–

There's one moment where everything seems to be still and then the girl's right foot slides to the ground, her other leg bending at the knee until her whole body is on her side.

Jongdae's rushing back, reaching out an arm for her to take– which is ridiculous of course because one of her group members is already hauling her up to her feet.

If only she hadn't worn such absurd heels, surely a shove like that wouldn't have made her fall!

Is she okay? The person who was bothering them has already run away but– "Should I call security? If someone's harassing your group or stalking you, they should know!"

Even if he doesn't like their music, no group deserves this kind of treatment backstage where they should be safe from bullshit like this.

The girl who sang best shakes her head just as the girl on the ground takes a step up and swears out a storm in a very deep and almost certainly masculine voice.

Fuck, could it be that she's– like him?

Jongdae looks left and right but it's only them in the hall. Still, if she's in such a state tht she's forgetting her voice training and with some weirdo harassing them, anything could happen!

He looks around frantically but thankfully a door with what he thinks is the group's name isn't far away. "We should get out of the hall!" Jongdae switches to a pressured whisper. "Especially if your member is in so much pain that she's swearing like that! What that person comes back or someone hears her! There could be a scandal!"

There's a pause but after a moment the girl who'd been swearing nods slowly. Each of the other two girls gets into position, her arms going over a shoulder each as thought they've done this time and time again. Maybe they have.

Idols have it hard, he remembers abruptly. All that dancing means a much higher chance of injury than K-rock groups face. They look practiced because they are.

Left without much else to do, Jongdae leads the charge to the dressing room.

Opening someone else's dressing room without them already in it is awkward, the immediate impression of the room something Jongdae doesn't feel he has the permisison to see. He does his best to avert his eyes and focus on holding the door open as they carefully bring the injured member through. She's set down on the couch against the wall, feet up on the leg of the couch, strappy shoes off before Jongdae's thought of something else to say.

"Is it always like that for you?" Not Jongdae's best question but some part of him has to know if there's really someone else like him in the industry and staying is the only way to find out, he can't go asking around about this sort of thing! And judging by the looks they were giving him, ejection had been imminent.

The one with the long dark hair and bangs shrugs. She'd been their best singer by Jongdae's estimation. "Some people have a problem with our group is all, because they don't like the concept mostly. If we couldn't handle that, we'd wouldn't have survived our first year."

Jongdae wonders what concept they could have that would get someone so riled up.

She continues, "Giving them that kind of attention just gives them a story to tell, get the conservative all rilled up. Normally–" she shoves the shoulder of the girl on the couch, "we take it and walk away but some hero named Xiumin decided I couldn't look after myself today."

Xiumin, the girl, shrugs and pokes gently at her legs, wincing every so often. "Between the kendo, taekwondo and the soccer, I can handle a knee slide here or there, Baekhyun."

So she's sporty then, by choice or because that's what she was expected to do when her parents thought she was a boy? It could have been her choice, of course. She probably didn't pick her own costume today but even if she did, liking ruffles and sports aren't incompatible.

Gosh his head feels like it's spinning, like this is a dream or he's on some sort of sugar high. Nothing's making much sense.

"If you can handle a knee slide why were you swearing in the hall as soon as you stepped on the left leg?" When Xiumin doesn't have a response, Baekhyun nods. "At least let Nini check you over. I'm not above calling our manager."

"She'll need to be called anyways, Baekhyun," Xiumin says with a sigh. She must be the responsible one of the three, the rule follower.

"The stylists aren't going to be impressed," Nini says and for the first time Jongdae notices the dust and the small rips to the girl's costume. But surely it's nothing an extra bow can't fix?

Nevertheless, Baekhyun's words must have unlocked something in her because the one called Nini, who must be Kai on stage, runs over. "I'm just glad you're okay! Was it your knee that hurt when you bore weight on it or your ankles? We should get you some painkillers and ice."

"I'm sure I'm fine, it was just a misstep, this has all been an overraction," Xiumin says but she doesn't turn down the painkillers and complies with every exercise Nini demands from her. In the end she agrees to have their manual theapist work on her a bit before their stage and for their stylist to be 'bothered', tasks which send the other two members out the door until it's just Jongdae and Xiumin.

Why Jongdae hasn't been sent out with them he doesn't know but finally he has his chance to talk to her, to ask if she's like him.

He's sweating already, his palms and his underarms damp.

"Some peace and quiet at last. I love my juniors by they can be a bit suffocating."

She leans back on the couch, one pillow propped up behind her back and one propped under under the leg that had seen the worst of the damage from the fall. Her dress has crept up, exposing the matching shorts underneath. There's a small pile of tissues next to her from where she'd dabbed the sweat off of her face and neck. She smiles but it feels more encouraging than seductive and fades down into something soft and quiet.

Why is she giving him so much attention? Why hadn't he been thanked and told to leave?

Does she know that he knew? Is she waiting for him to ask?

"Were you born as a boy?"

She stills completely.

"I was."

"But now you're–"

"Still a boy, I'm afraid."

It's like he was falling through a pit that stretched all the way down to his toes.

Still a boy.

And he's been misgendering her– him this whole time.

He isn't like Jongdae.

Her–his eyes are so big, his face so kind. The kindness feels bad because Jongdae's not some charity case.

Xiumin taps at his mouth. "Well, maybe not 100% a boy. But mostly a boy. Outside of work I dress like one anyways and I like being a man's man."

Right, a man's man. Beautiful and delicate and still manly and recognized as one by his friends. That's– that's good, right? That's idols for you. Worth respecting.

"The thing is, we all are, Jongdae. It's our concept."

If Jongdae had stayed longer, had paid more attention, maybe he would have noticed. Hell, if he'd cared about pop music, he might have heard of the group. He could have come in knowing, never started imagining he could have company in this industry.

Jongdae looks at him, really looks, and maybe he's noticing a few things now under all the makeup. He's still the prettiest person Jongdae thinks he's ever seen.

Of course, the singing! That's why they'd sung so high and why no one had blinked an eye about them needing a bit of extra help to keep their voices in good condition through it.

So basically, Jongdae's been a huge jerk to a bunch of guys who didn't deserve it while everyone but him knew the concept.

Great.

Ice is running through his veins, locking up his heart and all he can think about is escape. He feels the sweat that had pooled all over his body turning cold and clampy, even in his underwear.

He has his hand on the door handle before he's had another conscious thought. "I should go–"

"Wait! Jongdae!"

A small, strong hand holds on to his wrist.

"Please, you can't go! For my sake yes, but for yours too."

What is Xiumin talking about, for Jongdae's sake? He doesn't want to think about the other man again! He wants to go back to his own dressing room, to his friends who knew everything, to his stage! To normalcy!

"Jongdae, the thing is, you're bleeding. And if what I think could be true is, then it's a different kind of emergency."

Jongdae looks down.

He's been wearing gold shinny pants, perfect for the rockstar look but dressed up from his usual black for the award show.

Not that he can wear them now. The dampness he'd felt, it hadn't been sweat down there, it had been blood.

He looks over at the chair he'd been sitting on and there too was a faint tinge of red on the seat.

His gel! He'd forgotten this morning because he'd gone to the event long before his usual application time. And now he's been struck down for it in front of the man he's just humiliated himself in front of.

He's shaking, he realizes. Xiumin's hand is still around his wrist.

"Why don't you switch into my sweatpants, Jongdae? They're a little loose so they should easily fit over your pants."

"But I'll bleed into them!"

Xiumin shudders a little, presumably with distaste about the blood before shaking his head. "Nothing that some deep cleaning can't fix. And if I call someone in to bring you pads or a tampon," he says those words without stuttering, he must have a sister, "Someone else would know. Do you have supplies in your dressing room?"

Jongdae nods and follows the tug of Xiumin's hand back towards the centre of the room. His menstrual supplies are in his dressing room, tucked in the bottom of his bag, 'just in case someone else needs them, Jongdae's such a considerate man'.

How heavily is he flowing? Can he trust that he could make it to his dressing room without bleeding through them?

"They're black if that makes a difference."

Black, that would hide it.

But he'd be bleeding all over this gorgeous man's clothing! He can't do that!

"I really can't do that to your clothes, senior. I'll find another solution," Jongdae says.

Small hand on his shoulder, solid pressure. "I promise, Jongdae, you can. And please, call me hyung. I think after all of this, we can be hyung and dongsaeng."

Because to Xiumin, Jongdae's still a man. Not a girl, a man.

Wait, "You're older than me?"

"1990!" A small, toothy grin that makes his cheeks puff out and de-ages him even further. "It gets everyone. Don't I look like the maknae of the group?"

Xiumin strikes a cute pose, hands agaist the side of his face, hip canted out, dress still as girly as before. He's already youthful looking but when he acts cutesy the years really do melt away. Jongdae hadn't realized how much more comfortable he'd gotten with Xiumin's off stage self until his on stage self made a sudden, heart fluttering, re-appearance.

Jongdae lets out a laugh. "What a crazy day!" He peers at himself in the mirror as he slides on the borrowed sweatpants. "I think the stylists might murder me."

"If they find your body, I'll make sure the police know you named your killer," Xiumin says seriously. "But for now we both have stages to get ready for and I'm sure Baekhyun and Nini will be back soon. Break a leg, okay? I'm excited for the results of our competition and to see you perform."

Jongdae looks down at Xiumin's injured leg. "Will you really be okay after your fall?"

"Well enough for one stage, the physio team can have my guts for garters after that if it's really serious. But even if it takes a few weeks of physiotherapy we'll be back to kicking ass soon."

He walks over to the sofa and while he's not sashaying he isn't limping. Jongdae will just have to trust in his judgement, much as he wants to stay close to fetch and carry whatever Xiumin might like while he waits.

On the sofa, Xiumin props his head up on one hand and closes his eyes. "Close the door behind you when you leave."

"Thank you, hyung." And then Jongdae leaves.

Walking through the corridors is a blur of people but none of them pay him any mind. With his lanyard, he's just another bored idol avoiding getting into his tight costume too early.

He slips into their dressing room with a complete absence of ceremony and goes up to Junmyeon. He hates adding to their leader's plate but he could really use someone else taking the impact for this one.

Trusting that whatever Junmyeon says to management will be suitable, Jongdae leaves to the cordoned off part of the room and gets cleaned up. Without a shower it's not ideal so it takes longer than he'd like but by the time he's done, he has both pants off, fresh underwear and a new, black pair to change into. He carefully sets aside Xiumin's pants with his own things. He'd like to be able to clean them up himself before returning them but he's not sure how to return them. Maybe his manager will be able to get in touch with AeXon's team and be able to coordinate their return. But not right now.

For now he tucks himself into one of the couches, blanket around him. Yixing comes with new song samples he wants Jongdae's opinion of. Then there's food and Junmyeon is not subtle about how much he's loading Jongdae's plate up. Next, Chanyeol has to show Jongdae pictures of his dog from doggy daycare and soon enough the hours have passed by and it's time to hit the stage.

One annoying red carpet later, they line up backstage with all the other idols, everyone in their best glitz and glamour. The overly bright flashes from the photographers on the red carpet have made Jongdae's eyes itch and water and he yearns to rub at them but he has a ton of makeup on and he knows there's no way to touch them without rubbing some of the makeup off. He settles for blinking and hating this part of the job with a passion.

"Man that guy is so sexy in a skirt," Chanyeol says. He's looking over in Aexon's direction, not that there are many other guys in skirts around here. "Do you think he'd let me hit it while he's wearing it?"

Jongdae slugs his friend. "First, those are thoughts meant to stay inside your head, and second, pretty sure he does the hitting."

"Look, Kai can do whatever he wants to me, I'm easy! Honestly, all three of them could and I'd have zero complaints."

Junmyeon appears in front of them. "Is that so, Chanyeol? Why don't we have a conversation about what thoughts are acceptable to have in public and which aren't?"

Chanyeol ducks his head, rubbing at his earlobe as though it hurts, possibly through psychic attack from Junmyeon.

"Can't say you didn't warn him," Yixing says from his other side with a giggle.

"I can't tell if he'll never learn or if he enjoys provoking that reaction in Junmyeon."

They turn to look at the two of them, Junmyeon with his hands on his hips, comically shorter than Chanyeol, Chanyeol folded low, his ears red.

"Both," they say in unison and laugh.

On the other side of the room, Xiumin has started running through some sort of movements, stretches maybe? Why an idol would need to spread his legs so wide, his groin muscles maybe, Jongdae doesn't know, but his legs look very strong and long in this position. As though going in for the kill, Xiumin then puts a hand against the inner thigh of one of them and twists.

Jongdae chokes.

"He's certainly thorough and detail-oriented. Flexible too."

Jongdae whirls to look at Yixing who's looking very innocent for someone who's been whispering filth into his ear, blinking up at him.

Jongdae turns his gaze back to Xiumin who's now touching the floor with his hands? Jongdae's pretty sure that would break his back and the huge, stationary steps forward likewise seem like a torture implement. But Xiumin doesn't look tortured, he looks focused, chatting occasionally with his teammates. Instead it's Jongdae being tortured by those damned safety shorts.

"Flexibility is underestimated in hitters in my opinion."

"How can you look like an angel while saying things like that, Lay-hyung," Jongdae whines. "I'm supposed to be focusing here!"

Yixing shrugs. "What else is there to focus on when we've got nothing to do but wait?"

But he accepts the topic change Jongdae offers and doesn't say anything except to grin knowingly whenever Jongdae gets a bit too distracted.

Finally it's time for them to be let on stage and wow is this dull and yet also terrifying. Jongdae's never enjoyed the surveillance aspect of being a celebrity but normally he's at least doing something as he's being watched. But here his job is to watch and give 'approproiate' reactions, like being in choir at church and knowing his mother would talk to him if she caught him picking his nose for the entire, lengthy mass. He knows there'll be fans and anti-fans both judging every reaction he gives and all he can hope is that nothing will stand out. Having a reaction of his go viral would be such a headache.

In spite of his worries though, there's something special about being an audience member again. When but at an award show would he get to see so many brilliant acts performing and he has a front row seat to watch them from? There are some genuine industry titans here tonight and they're all determined to show the best of what they have to offer. There are special stages, unexpected solos, and a few moments of true genius. There are stumbles too but what's amazing is the recoveries these senior artists pull off, seamlessly turning a moment of failure into a once in a lifetime performance.

There are award announcements too, that's what they're all gathered here for, heartfelt speeches and lots of tears. Chanyeol has just about used up a tissue box crying tears of sympathy for them and Junmyeon's teared up more than once for a friend finally getting the recognition they've worked so hard for.

A crew member catches their eyes and then it's their turn to get up and bow as they're led away from their seats.

Backstage, their team helps them into their in-ear monitors, cords slipping under their costumes and trnsmitor packs into their back pockets. One last check that their in-ears and working and they're left alone.

Junmyeon is running his voice through a vocal warmup, Chanyeol works through stretches for his hands and Yixing bends this way and that way, working out the kinks from his back. They've each turned away, offering each other what privacy they can have in such a small space.

It's achingly familiar.

Jongdae makes the sign of the cross, bows his head and closes his eyes.

'O my God, I love Thee above all things with my while heart and soul. I ask as your humble servant to please look out for us during our performance. Please keep Junmyeon, Yixing and Chanyeol healthy. Please let Xiumin have suffered no injury from his fall and let him perform without pain. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. I ask this through Jesus Christ my Lord.'

He recites, 'In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,' as he moves through the sign of the cross.

He breathes then finishes, 'Amen.'

His chest tingles as the prayer goes up and there's a moment of pure peace.

They each finish their prepartions at a similar time. Seeing that he has their attention, Junmyeon signals to them.

"I know we can do this, team. Lets go rock their socks off. Amaranth Uprising, it's time to rock their socks off!"

They place their hands into the middle of the circle and shout, "One, two, three, rock!" and then they're walking as one onto the stage.

The stage is dark as they take their places and Jongdae settles in to his position up front, standing with the microphone stand. He moves the microphone until it's exactly as he likes it. In the background, Chanyeol, Yixing and Suho are playing a few notes, settling in to their instruments. The curtain is down and they are cocooned, insulated a little from the noise of the crowd.

'Curtain rising in three, two, one," a voice says over their in-ear microphones as a stage hand counts down in front of them on his hand.

The lights are blinding, the sweat instant. Ahead of them is a sea of shimmering lightsticks, some so far way they seem like stars.

And then the intro begins, music filling Jongdae's ears, heart beat rising, hand gripping the microphone.

'This place that's disappeared is gone without a trace

In this cold space, I'm just tracing my memories

In this entangled time, I'm the only one left.'

But while Jongdae is singing his heart out, the full volume of his voice pouring into the microphone and thus the stadium, there's no amplification. And loud as Jongdae is, he can't fill a full open air stadium with his voice.

The boys are playing another round of the intro, riffing a little as though this was all as planned. What a good crew he's a part of.

The tech team must be scrambling to fix it, Jongdae just has to trust and wait. Surely they'll mention something over his in-ears soon.

His band must be scrambling because the music is coming up on his part to sing again and still there's no one saying his microphone's been fixed.

What if people think he doesn't sing live? That it's just a backing track and without it coming on he's just lipsyncing? This is being broadcast across the country, it's not like a performance at a festival or at their own concert where the fans would understand if they told them there was a technical issue, could they please hold. Non-fans and anti-fans are watching, redy for someone to fall apart in a spectacular way. Rookie k-rock group Amaranth Uprising would be the perfect target.

Time's up, they're one bar away. He just has to sing and hope the microphone delivers him a miracle.

'This place that's disappeared is gone without a trace'

But while he's singing, it isn't his voice coming over the sound system.

Xiumin struts out on stage, microphone in hand, towering over Jongdae purely through the heels he's wearing. But where before his voice was high enough to match many women, now he's singing in a deeper voice, with just a hint of lightness creeping in. It's not the most stable voice, but each lyric is delivered crisply and passionately, without any hesitation over the words.

He walks like he own the stage, holding up the microphone with one hand and holding the other at his side, outstretched. As he continues through the first verse, he switches the microphone back and forth, moving his body with the rhythm of the song as though he can't help but want to dance.

The fans in front of them are cheering their hearts out at what must seem like a surprise collab. An award show special. The other members are playing their instruments and singing their harmonies.

He's at the centre of the stage and yet completely unecessary here.

A deep voice says, "Microphone is on," through his in-ears.

Xiumin is shinning in his blue dress, like some kind of Roman god of music unexpectedly at home on a rock.

Jongdae wraps his hand around the microphone and closes his eyes.

'Why, why, tell me why?

I'm left alone'

Jongdae's voice is echoing loud as can be throughout the entire stadium, just as he'd dreamed.

But it's his voice alone. Xiumin's voice has faded away.

Jongdae opens his eyes and locks with Xiumin's upturned, large eyes.

He holds out his arm to indicate that Xiumin should sing and locks eyes with this bewitching, beguiling man, hoping that Xiumin understands.

Jongdae sings out the chorus as passionately as he ever has. And there's a new voice supporting his. One that doesn't compete with his but effortlessly harmonizes with it.

Together they ride through the song, sometimes taking turns, sometimes singing with one or all of the other three members. A whole duet carried out completely on the fly.

Xiumin doesn't seem to check the auto-prompt once, as though he knows the entire song by heart. Even when he isn't holding the microphone up to his mouth, he is mouthing the lyrics. His face expresses the rollercoaster of emotions that the song is about, he belts, he growls, he encourages Jongdae to do some of his own strutting around the stage.

And Jongdae is having fun. On a whim he throws in an adlib, trusting that Xiumin will sing the lead vocal and he does.

The song finishes and Jongdae turns back to the crowd, beaming.

"Thank you AeXon's Xiumin for that surprise duet!" It's Junmyeon because of course it is, speaking to the crowd, controlling the narrative. He gestures to Xiumin who bows, rubbing the back of his head when he gets up.

"It was my pleasure, thank you for being a wonderful crowd! I'll leave you in the hands of these capable hands and see you again for AeXon's set later on!"

Xiumin scurries off the stage leaving without Jongdae having addressed him at all. Instead he says, "Thank you Xiumin for that amazing duet. Next Chanyeol will be joining me up front on the guitar for 'Hasta La Vista'."

And so the show goes on.

Their set finishes and they hurry off the stage. They have to change back in to their costumes from the red carpet and AeXon is going on soon after them so they'll almost certainly miss their performance. There are apologies on behalf of the director conveyed to them through their managers but it's lost in the rush of the quick change, makeup quickly refreshed, hair teased, the four of them being hurried back out to their seats. As expected, they've missed the AeXon set.

Nothing feels quite real. The seat underneath him is real perhaps but has this all been some kind of weird pre-show nerves dream?

What is reality?

Could all of this really happen at one award show?

They're supposed to be slow agonies of despair, not hotbeds of surprise.

He follows along and claps when the others do, standing and sitting as he needs to but he's not taking much in.

Yixing drapes an arm over his back and leans in. "Earth to Jongdae, our award is being aanounced up next." The words puff warm air against his ears. "It's us and AeXon up for it so look alive. Even if we don't win, Junmyeon's counting on us being the best sore losers."

AeXon! Xiumin!

There they are back in their seats, in costumes that somewhat approximate suits. Is that strap of lace peeking out from the jacket on Xiumin's costume?

No! Jongdae has to be profesional here, neither thursting, nor angsting nor bubbling over in jealousy at this perfect, frustrating man!

He takes deep breaths into his diaphragm like he's been taught to while he sings. He can do this. He's been praised for his maturity his whole life. When push comes to shove, Kim Jongdae knows how to behave. For heaven's sake, his family are watching this broadcast. He will be polite, he will be well behaved. No matter the results, it's been anything but boring right? AeXon are worthy competitors, very different but bucking the industry all the same. They have places to improve but so does Amaranth Uprising. And the other nominees in the category are talented as well even if they are from bigger companies who will benefit less from the exposure that winning rookie of the year will bring, he admits.

It's starting, the trailer for each group ahead of the announcement. As Xiumin winks on the big screen, he takes a moment to admire their concept. Masterfully executed to highlight what they are and aren't, to tease the what if. The teens are probably going nuts for them.

Jongdae can't worry now about what people might assume about him in the aftermath of something that's already happened, an incredibly brave gesture that saved their asses and more importantly their reputation.

Junmyeon's probably already making plans to take advantage of the crossover appeal their impromptu duet will have sparked. Jongdae would say Junmyeon needs to get laid more but unfortunately he's very aware of how often rising model Oh Sehun has stayed over recently. Probably Junmyeon is just naturally neurotic.

The joke cheers him up enough to smile. If he keeps overthinking things this much, the makeup noona will scold him for furrows on his brow.

Especially if the reception is good, that could open up room for more. For a public friendship, for showing up at each others concerts down the line. Jongdae could have a celebrity friend.

Even if he maybe wants Xiumin as more than a friend—

"And the award goes to an extraordinary emerging talent… Doh Kyungsoo! Truly reviving interest in trot amongst young people!"

Amaranth Uprising stands and claps as a cute guy in a suit comes up to the mic. His hair reminds Jongdae of styles all the guys he knew wore in high school but Jongdae knows his voice well and it's certainly not something you can find, well, anywhere.

He gives a pretty typical speech, thanking his managers and his company, his family, giving a special shoutout to his mother. He's grinning so hard you can hardly see his eyes and he can hear Chanyeol squeeing under his breath.

The night's almost over and the cameras have moved on to more senior groups which is a relief. By the time they're ushered off stage Jongdae thinks he'll sleep for a million years and wake only for food and a bath. He's also killing for a proper shower and is vaguely achy from the cramps and very hungry. As far as he's concerned it's time to sleep walk to the van and call it there.

So he's in a vulnerable state when someone stuffs him through a doorway. It's a dressing room, AeXon's dressing room and also, Xiumin is there? Okay this shouldn't be that odd because it's his dressing room, but it is odd because Jongdae was just shoved into it! And now the door has been closed behind him? So it's just the two of them in this dressing room and there are giggles and the sounds of feet running away. So no need to guess who shoved them both in here.

"Baekhyun is showering last tonight, I've just decided," Xiumin says. He sounds casuaal but also threatening which is kind of disastrously hot.

But everything about Xiumin is hot in a way which can only herald disaster because the sight of him more of less shuts down the parts of Jongdae's brain that can think about things other than how he's glistening and how all the makeup on his face seems to be saying, 'Look at those beuatiful eyes and never look away!' and how the only thing other than his eyes that Jongdae is looking at is his lips and the thumb that's playing with his bottom lip and–

"Do you kiss? Other guys that is?"

Jongdae thought that the series of events which had led up to this moment might have shown him what surprise looks like on Xiumin. He was wrong because this was true surprise. Xiumin is standing there, in an entirely too sexy red one piece suit and it is lace peeking out from the V of the lapels, and also his eyes are massive, his mouth gently agape.

The view certainly isn't helping the urge to kiss him without asking any other questions.

"Yes!" Xiumin is pulling very hard on his bottom lips now. "I mean, that sounded very eager but yeah, I kiss guys sometimes."

It's like watching a demon take him over as his voice deepens and his hip subtly pops out. "Including you, handsome , if you're interested."

Jongdae doesn't need further invitation to walk over and capture that damned mouth with his own.

It's just as plush as it had looked.

In fact, it turns out Xiumin's mouth is talented on several levels.

There's also a slit right at the low back of Xiumin's suit-romper outfit that means that as soon as Jongdae wraps his arms around Xiumin, he touches the bare, soft skin of Xiumin's back and moans.

That's all Xiumin needs to push him down onto the couch of the dressing room.

"I really wasn't angling for anything like this when I went on stage, I don't want you to think I'm a creepy fanboy," Xiumin— no Minseok says after they finish.

"Creepy fanboy?" Jongdae's never heard something more absurd. "More like my knight in shining armour. Today would have been a complete disaster about you. You really showed me."

Jongdae hesitates. Minseok looks so comfortable laying back on the now somewhat defiled couch, half his makeup rubbed or sweat off. The earlier vitriol of Jongdae's thoughts feels like such a burden to place on this moment.

But at the same time, isn't it dishonest not to tell him how poorly Jongdae thought of him at first.

It feels like it would weigh Jongdae down, destroy them from the inside out fast is Jongdae doesn't tell Minseok here and now.

Jongdae sits up straight, looking straight at Minseok, unwilling to allow himself to look away and miss any reaction from Minseok."I misjudged you the first time I saw you, actually. You were just so attractive to me it kind of overroad all general decency in my brain. If I'd said what I'd been thinking— well I'd have deserved a punch frankly. It really wasn't my shining moment."

The complete bafflement he sees isn't quite what he was expecting.

"What do you mean? But you thought I was– like a girl but a girl like you're a boy when we met. So what sort of thoughts could you have been having if it wasn't like homophobia?"

"I want to emphasize here that I found you like really, really hot and that I respect lots of other genres and styles of music—"

"So you were being a music snob about our music?" Minseok bursts out laughing. "Sorry but I should have guessed you'd be the type to have a pretentious streak and a guilt complex about it."

There's a pause and then he continues more seriously, "Sorry about ruining your song with my voice though. I don't know why I thought that could possibly solve anything when your voice is just— well leagues better than mine."

Wow Jongdae, talk about dick move. Minseok is obviously hurt and of course he is!

But he has to try and rescue this.

"The thing is that I was wrong, Minseok. You and your group do something amazing. Of course every vocalist has places where they can improve but you sang beautifully and it was my honour to do that impromptu duet with you. I can't remember the last time I just let go like that on stage and trusted I could navigate through it all and deliver a good result. But singing with you made it easy because I was having so much fun!"

"Oh! Well that's good then." Minseok shoves him. "What are you trying to do, make me cry or soemthing?"

"So I take it I haven't talked myself out of a date with you sometime?"

"How about this, we trade phone numbers tonight and tell our managers and then we can work on organizing some dates. But first, I want seconds."

Minseok makes a come hither gesture with his finger and who is Jongdae to refuse?

He dives in for more.