26. End of a Game

TWENTY-SIX

On the otherside of the lot, Xiao Yu and Soohyun move swiftly through the empty building.

"It's kind of creepy in here," Xiao Yu says.

"Yeah. Even more reason to get in and get out quickly."

Mouse and the others were doing an excellent job of keeping the pink team busy so they couldn't bother the white team seekers while they ransacked the place looking for their captive comrades.

"Wish that other guy was here," Soohyun frowns. "We could ask him for some advice."

He means Jewel, who'd taken off as soon as the game had started.

"Pfft. We don't need him." Xiao Yu looks around in the blackness where he can see exactly nothing. "Wish we had a flashlight, though."

They'd stuck Yejun on the top floor of their game zone. Although the buildings went up much higher than that, the Gleam production team had limited them to three floors to make the game go quicker. With all the floors, they might be here all night.

Would the pink team have done the same? Or would they put their captives on the first floor to try to lure Soohyun and the others into an ambush at the top?

They're fast, but it would be even faster if they knew where they were keeping Miyong and Meyemi—or if they could search all three floors all at once. Which is why it's a pain that that guy had run off.

"You take the second floor, and I'll search the first floor?" Soohyun suggests in a low tone.

"I'm on it."

He feels the rush of wind of Xiao Yu departing from his side and hears the hushed squeak of his sneakers against the ground, receding as he runs quietly but quickly. The lone wolf energy of their team's Wild Prince.

Once Soohyun is alone, the air conditioner seems to get colder. He notices the way the cold air makes goosebumps prickle on his skin.

The pink team has only four players left in reserve, which means that they can expect at least one per floor. If Soohyun were in charge, he would make sure to put two guards on the door that actually held their captives—which narrows it down.

Soohyun doesn't actually have to get into altercations with any of the pink team defenders in order to find Miyong. He just has to figure out where the guards are doubled.

The Gleam team has stuck glow-in-the-dark tape along the floor and along the frames of doors that are considered "in bounds." It helps and it hurts. It gives Soohyun a little light to see by, but it also can potentially give away his position. If he blocks any of the light from the glow strips, they'll see him coming.

He pauses at a bend in the hallway, flattening himself back against a corner, and listens?—

He thinks he hears something. Without further ado, he pulls a rubber ball about the size of his palm from his side pocket and bounces it along the floor in the direction of the sound.

The closet that they're locked in is pretty small. In order to be polite, Miyong had initially wrapped his arms around his knees in order to make himself smaller so he wouldn't bump into their First Love sunbaenim.

That had failed after a little while, though. He'd gotten so jittery sitting there, full to bursting with the need to move.

First it had been his heels that had rocked against the ground in rhythmic tapping patterns. Then, that hadn't been enough so he'd gotten up to pace.

Meyemi had adopted a lotus-like sitting position as soon as they'd arrived. Being trapped in a closet with a little boy is so dreary. He'd decided to meditate to take his mind off it.

Meyemi is quite good at meditation, and even the minor racket created by the younger boy from Fairytale isn't enough to shake his concentration.

"It's lucky that there are two of us here together, isn't it?" Miyong says after a while.

The silence was starting to make him feel itchy.

Meyemi opens his eyes and pauses. "You don't think they'll hear us if we talk?"

"Nah," Miyong says, rapping gently on the inside of the door with the back of his knuckles. The closet really is very small. He's paced back and forth so many times by now that he's thoroughly mapped the inside of the closet without even trying. He can find the door in an instant. "The door is pretty thick. If we keep it down, I don't think anyone will hear us." He tilts his head. "Besides, if they do, it'll only help our team to find us faster."

Thinking of that, maybe it would actually be better if they yelled for help.

"How do you figure it's lucky?" Meyemi asks.

Miyong is very good, actually, at picking up the thread of dropped conversations. Joonie-hyung doesn't always respond right away when they're talking together, so Miyong is good at both carrying conversations alone and figuring out how disparate statements connect.

He says thoughtfully, "It'd be boring if I was in here alone, and I might be scared."

"But now you're not scared," Meyemi says, a little amused.

"Uh-huh."

In the end, Jewel steals the game.

It's an exciting, chaotic game in the white home base, but the gameplay on the pink side is comparatively boring. Jewel sniffs out their group leader unfailingly. How can he not when he already has Meyemi's scent? And manages to tag them both, even with the pink team defenders streaming behind him.

"Took you long enough," Meyemi says as Jewel extends a hand to haul him up from his seated position on the ground.

He'd somehow found a stack of yoga mats to use as a cushion.

"Well, you know. Had to make it fun for the others," Jewel winks.

He's really dazzling up close. His long, silver hair is really pretty, Miyong thinks. Almost like Charis-hyung's, but more flashy.

Jewel slaps Miyong's hand too, just to be sure to follow the game rules and win the prize.

As soon as the game is over, a loud congratulatory tone sounds from their phones and the intercom speakers in the hallways. The lights click on all at once, and Jewel and Meyemi both wince in pain at the sudden light assaulting their eyes. Even Miyong hisses and squints.

"And the winners are—the white team! Congratulations. You can check the Gleam app on your phones for details about your prize."

The staff comes out from where they're hiding and helps Xiao Yu and Soohyun find their way to Miyong. Xiao Yu had been two floors away, although Soohyun had actually gotten pretty close. They come to greet Miyong and congratulate Jewel on bringing the victory.

Surprisingly, Xiao Yu is the one that ends up checking over Miyong with a critical eye.

"You're okay?" he asks, looking him over from top to toe. "Nothing wrong? You weren't scared?"

"Not scared!" Miyong announces. "Meyemi-sunbaenim kept me company."

He sighs a little wistfully.

"Kinda wish I could've gotten to play, too, though… It looks like fun…" He looks at the exuberant faces of his members, who are still breathing hard. "All I got to do was sit down!" Miyong says, sounding aggrieved.

Xiao Yu barks a laugh.

"You can play the next one," he says, clapping Miyong on the shoulder so hard it knocks him forward.

"Un," Miyong says, a little despondently.

The reunion of First Love members is much more sedate. The guys over in the white team base building make their way over so the cameras can get a group shot of everyone together.

"You did it," Mouse says to Soohyun.

"Actually, Jewel did it."

Jewel grins, and Bo slaps him on the chest. "And you didn't take me with you."

"Needed you to guard home base, didn't we?" Jewel retorts.

"It's true, we caught two of them," Charis says seriously.

Bo humphs.

The winning team gets together and takes some pictures together. Charis ends up standing next to Mouse in the lineup, and somehow, they find a moment to talk with each other while the others are talking about a midnight snack. Mouse tugs Charis into a quiet corner.

"Sorry about earlier," he says. "When you—you know I like holding your hand. I was just pissed."

"I know," says Charis.

Mouse's hand drifts up to Charis' face. With the back of two delicate fingers, he touches the space below Charis' pointed chin. "So pretty, Pocky," he murmurs. "You're so pretty, even in this weird military getup."

Charis' laugh chimes like bells. "The concept really is a lot this time, huh?"

"Yeah," Mouse says. He sighs, drifting closer. They're not in that much privacy, so Mouse can't do what he really wants to do, which is kiss Charis right now. He groans and buries his face into Charis' collarbone.

"Miss you," he says. "Miss our regular life. The practices and the performances. This kind of blows."

"Yeah," Charis says.

He's only taken off-guard for a minute, when Mouse suddenly buries his face into Charis' shoulder and starts nuzzling there. He recovers quickly and starts carding his fingers through Mouse's hair.

It's a little sweaty near his scalp. As he starts to massage it, the light, clean smell of Mouse's shampoo drifts up to him.

"At least we get to be roommates again?" Charis offers. "It's like old times. Nostalgic."

"But you could sleep in my room any time you wanted," Mouse huffs.

He sighs, taking a last drag of Charis' scent, the clean smell of his laundry detergent mixed with the pleasant natural scent of his body. He straightens up, and Charis gets a look at his bright hazel eyes.

Then he leans in and does what Mouse had wanted to do. He wraps his arms around Mouse's lower back and draws him in, gathering him close, and then he kisses him.

Mouse makes a small, startled sound into his mouth. But it isn't a sound that's reproving. It starts out curious and then mutates into a noise that sounds softly pleased.

They're hidden well in the corner, anyway. As long as no cameras turn toward them. Mouse takes a calculated risk and gathers Charis into his arms, pressing closer and sipping sweetly from his mouth.

They nip and kiss at each other, making small sounds of pleasure and contentment as they indulge in one another. Mouse is so soft and pretty in his arms. The long ridge of his nose, the slim planes of his cheeks. Charis just wants to drink him in.

His hands wander a bit, playing with the long ends of Mouse's hair, rubbing over his slender back.

Mouse presses him up against the wall in a way that he likes. It feels good, even as Mouse slides a hand up underneath his shirt and skims the back of his knuckles across Charis' quivering abdomen, just once, before pulling his hand back and smoothing down Charis' clothing before reluctantly stepping back with one last, lingering kiss.

The gesture makes something pool molten in Charis' belly, lighting up his often stagnant desire. He bites softly on his own lip and starts to step forward to chase Mouse back down.

To do what, even he isn't entirely sure. To finish what he started? They're in public and have to stop; of course Charis knows that. No one knows the limits of idol good behavior better than Charis, the perfect, biddable idol.

While all this is going on, Ttalgi glances over. Geez, these guys. They're not as well hidden as they think they are, and they're not very observant if they can't tell there's still a camera on them. Ttalgi flicks a wrist and one of the cameras pointing toward the secluded corner suddenly turns its blank, eye-like face away. Later, the video editors will find a patch of data on that footage unfortunately corrupted.

As soon as he does it, he pretends he didn't.

Seojun picks that moment to come trotting over. He's flushed and a little dewy from the exertion. Fairytale and First Love had given them a real run for their money, putting them through their paces as they gave them the runaround.

"Hey, Mouse. And you're Charis, right?"

Seojun is wearing a charming, easygoing smile as he sticks his hand out. Black stud earrings, little flat disks of metal, glint on both his earlobes. His short, stylishly cut hair still looks good when it's a little sweaty.

Charis is sure something must show on his face—that he must be extraordinarily flushed, or something. He stumbles for a moment, sure he's looking at Seojun like an idiot. It takes a minute for his slow, stunned mind to catch up from the sleepy, syrupy hot place he'd been with Mouse.

"Uh. Yeah." He coughs lightly. "Yeah, I am. Hi. Seojun, right?"

Charis takes Seojun's proffered hand and shakes it. Seojun has a firm handshake.

"In the flesh." He smiles kindly.

He's the type of person that it's very easy to like, so why does Charis have a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, almost like he ate something bad?

"Mouse-ah, we were going to unwind in one of our rooms, and I wanted to invite you. It's been too long, yeah? They're probably going to start eliminations soon, and it'd be nice to have the chance to catch up."

Mouse curves a slim eyebrow. "And you're planning to go home so soon? Because we certainly aren't."

Seojun misses this. He never remembers how much he misses it until he's reminded. The sharp repartees with Mouse, words sharp enough to cut like blades if you get in their way. Mouse is fun.

Seojun grins. "Not on your life."

Charis looks between the two of them, feeling the residual pooled heat in his belly thaw and melt away.

"I'll just see you back at the room later," Charis says in a clear and steady voice.

Seojun turns to Charis, surprised. "Oh! Of course you're invited, too. I didn't mean to leave you out. Sorry, I thought that went without saying." He slants a look at Mouse with his sharp, curved eyes. "It's just that when we get started…"

"You haven't changed," Mouse says drolly.

Seojun grins at Mouse's antics, then turns to Charis, clearly trying to include him. "You know how it is."

"It's okay," Charis says, glancing at Mouse and then quickly away. He pats at his hair to smooth it down and waves a hand. "You guys have fun. I'll see you later."

"You sure? You don't want to come?" Mouse asks him, clearly torn. He bites his lip, thinking of what he and Pocky had just been doing. He likes Seojun, sure, but he's far, far more invested in following after Pocky and finishing what they'd started.

"Nn," Pocky says. "Go have fun."

Seojun is standing there expectantly, and Pocky is as unreadable as ever. Mouse wavers for a second more before relenting. "Okay," he says.

Charis starts to go back to their room like he said he would.

Soohyun catches his eye on the way out. "Hey, can we talk?"

Charis bites his lip. His guts are still churning. His head feels like a subtle mess, like an explosion of color that's just starting to leak out. He really doesn't want to talk to Soohyun right now.

"Can it wait?" Charis asks. He gestures at himself, a little rumpled. Windblown. He'd played the same game the rest of them had, and it had been exhilarating, to run with Bo. To catch people.

Soohyun frowns. "It can…"

He's torn between his desire to make sure Charis rests and the slight sting of guilt—of course Charis is tired. He probably wants to shower like the rest of them do—and his duties as a team leader. This isn't strictly work-related, but no part of their lives are strictly work-related.

No part is completely unrelated either, and there's the rub. They're a team. Everything they do affects each other and affects their work. He isn't imagining it that Charis is avoiding him, he's almost sure of it now, and it's something they need to talk about.

But it's somehow his fault, isn't it? That Charis is avoiding him. Because he couldn't keep his stupid crush to himself. They do need to talk about it, at some point. He wants to reassure Charis that he doesn't have to avoid him, that he'll respect his boundaries.

"Can we talk a little later, then? Please."

Charis pleads with his eyes, and Soohyun can't really help it. He feels like he always did looking at Charis, like he's looking at someone he's meant to protect. He remembers Charis from their debut days, quiet as a mouse and always keeping to himself.

Soohyun isn't happy about it, but he nods helplessly. Charis makes himself absolutely scarce before Soohyun can say anything else or change his mind.

"Ah, tough break." Kiki's voice comes from behind Soohyun unexpectedly.

Kiki drifts over, watching Charis' quickly retreating back with Soohyun. He feels a little sympathy for their fearless leader, but mostly he's coldly—some would say cruelly—impartial.

Maybe he feels a little twinge of affinity for Charis after all. For the weird, unique, but genuine ways Charis has supported him over time. He thinks of the way Mouse and Charis are with each other. Mouse better not say that Kiki never does anything for him after this.

Soohyun rubs the back of his hair, clearing his throat and trying to recover. "Hey, Kiki. Did you need something?"

"No, but I think you need to get a grip. Charis-hyung likes Mouse. You get that, right?"

It's to Soohyun's credit, maybe, that he doesn't visibly deflate. Kiki doesn't know how to gauge things like that.

"I know," Soohyun says quietly. He smiles crookedly, vaguely sad. "But I still want to be his friend."

"Keep your head in the game, soldier," Kiki says, slapping Soohyun on the back.

He's not wrong. Soohyun does have to get his shit together. He just wishes he could work all this out with Charis sooner rather than later. He doesn't want to be another source of Charis' stress—he's been having nightmares lately where Charis tells him that he's quitting the group and it's because of him; in the dreams, he wears the same vague, distant expression that Soohyun so often sees on him in playbacks of interviews, polite and frosty—and it's hard to bear.

It doesn't help that in the waking world, Soohyun has been seeing more of that look on the real Charis' face lately. It feels more and more like they're going back in time; like Charis is a stranger, and Soohyun doesn't know what to do about that. He feels them getting farther apart, and he doesn't know what to do.

It doesn't help that the way Charis looks at Mouse is so different. Awkward and shy and a little sweet. Sometimes fond, sometimes exasperated. He looks at Mouse like Mouse is a real friend, someone he can rely on. Someone he can grow close to.

The honest truth is that Soohyun misses him. He does still want to be a friend to Charis—a real friend. And to Mouse, too.

Charis feels harried facing Soohyun. He can't?—

There's something about still feeling the imprints of Mouse's body on his skin. The taste of Mouse's lip balm in his mouth. It makes it harder to be around Soohyun. It's not that Charis wants to run away, exactly. He just feels like shutting down. Maybe it's better that he just goes back to their room as soon as possible.

Xiao Yu's brow furrows as he looks at Charis coming their way, looking uncomfortable as he hustles his way across the lawn. Xiao Yu steps forward to intercept him. He asks, "Hey. Do you want to hang out?"

Charis has to blink himself out of the tangle of thoughts he's currently tying himself into knots about. He's surprised to find, in a sudden rush, that he does really, really want that. With a desperate ferocity that feels almost overwhelming.

"Yeah," he gasps out.

"Come on, then."

They go to collect Kiki from the crowd. Xiao Yu doesn't coddle him. He kind of just folds Charis into the evening he's having with Kiki, and in its own way, that ends up being more soothing than anything.

They pull away from the crowd.

"C'mon, keep up," Kiki says when Charis starts lagging behind them.

It feels natural, to give them their space.

"You're good to walk?" Kiki makes sure.

"Yeah."

Charis trots to keep up.

He thinks that they'll go back to the dorms, but he doesn't balk when they don't. They cross the lush, blue-green grass. It must have rained sometime while they were playing the game because the grass is slick and wet under their feet. They leave the Gleam lot and step out into the street.

Charis has his hands tucked into his pockets as he walks not behind Kiki and Xiao Yu but beside them. ‘MingKi,' he knows fans call them. They look so beautifully luminous beside each other. Like picturesque beauties, a really good-looking couple.

Charis isn't blind. He knows they're together, even though they're discreet about it and have never announced it.

They don't hold hands like he and Mouse do as they walk. Somehow it seems more intimate, the way they walk close enough that their fingertips brush from time to time. Kiki's jacket is a little too big for him. It hangs down nearly to the ends of his hands, leaving only his clean, white fingertips peering out.

Charis doesn't see how good he looks with them. His mink-colored hair shines prettily where it's draped over his shoulder. The three of them look good as they walk quietly at the end of a long, loud, busy night.

Charis steps off the curb, and they cross the quiet street. The Gleam headquarters are a couple of hours from Seoul, in Gimpo. It's quiet here at night. They still pass people on the streets occasionally, but it's not as madly bustling as Seoul. With their fashionable, reusable cloth masks on, no one recognizes them, and if they do, no one bothers them.

Although he's been running all night, being outside here in the fresh air feels different. Charis pulls his mask down under his chin to breathe in the cold evening air. It's crisp and stinging as it enters his nostrils. He smells the scent of Christmas trees mixed in with the asphalt and oil smell of the city, and when he looks, he can see some pine garlands set up not too far away.

They go to an all-night cafe and take a table near the back. There's a booth set up with golden-orange wood benches and partitions, topped with cushions in a burnt-orange vinyl. Christmas music is playing low over the speakers, and they're buffeted by a rush of warmth as soon as they step inside. While they're still outside, looking into the bustling cafe through the clean glass window, Charis surreptitiously tugs the front of his mask up again.

In the booth, they shuffle while they shuck their outer layers. It's too hot to keep the heavy jackets on. Charis' toes feel warm and snug in his boots, cradled by his woolen socks.

The way the booth is set up, in the round, there's no need for them to sit on opposite sides. They crowd in together, meeting in the middle of the bend.

The table the host chose for them is a good one, and Charis feels grateful as he breathes out a relieved sigh. The partition and indoor potted plants help to screen them from wandering eyes, and they're tucked away in the back of the restaurant. No one will bother them here.

The waitress brings by tea, and Charis warms his hands on the outside of the handleless porcelain cup.

They order Korean food for the table. Bi bim naengmyeon and kimchi jjigae. Charis doesn't feel very hungry, but he still picks up his spoon and chopsticks once the food arrives. Xiao Yu serves for them—Charis first, then Kiki, then himself.

The food is hot enough to make Charis have to suck in a breath to try to cool off the inside of his mouth.

"Ahh—"

It's good, though. He slurps up the rest of his bite of cabbage, chewing thoughtfully before pinching a piece of pork belly between his metal chopsticks. The meat is fatty and flavorful, cooked long enough that it melts in his mouth. The kimchi jjigae is spicy enough to bring tears to his eyes and a warm flush that spreads across his chest and all the way up to his ears, turning them a shade of red.

When it gets too much to bear, he digs into the bi bim naengmyeon. It's just as spicy, but the coolness of the noodles nevertheless slakes the inside of his burning mouth.

They're quiet as they eat, everyone too busy reaching for food in the middle of the table and filling their mouths and stomachs to have much to say. Kiki is left-handed, so his elbow knocks comfortably into Xiao Yu's from time to time. The only time they speak is when they order drinks—a couple of bottles of plum-flavored soju for the table.

Although Charis wasn't very hungry when they started, he eats more than he thought he would. As soon as he starts eating, his body remembers how good food is and what he should do with it.

It's good to see Charis eating so heartily, Kiki thinks; he's not totally heartless.

Charis takes the soju bottle in hand. His usually ice-cold fingertips are warmed from the stew. They're pink at the tips as he cracks the seal and pours. He fills up Kiki's cup and then Xiao Yu's, and then Kiki takes up the bottle and pours for him.

They all shoot their first drinks, and Charis feels a burning line of liquid warmth down his throat.

"Ah—"

They smack their lips as the glass bottoms of their glasses hit the tables. Kiki delicately wipes the moisture off his lips with the back of his hand.

Xiao Yu picks up the bottle and pours for them again, and they go back to eating.

The night is really pleasant. They talk about everything and nothing. The food on the table steadily disappears into their bellies. They'd ordered a lot, but they'd all been very hungry. They're still growing boys who work a very physical job.

The soju bottles on the table pile up more slowly. They drink toasts, and then after that, they simply sip at their cups as the conversation continues to idly flow. The candle in the middle of their table burns down until it's only a stub, a flickering orange flame dancing on top of the creamy butter-colored remnants of a candle left to burn down in a red glass votive holder.

Charis fingers the edge of his cup. His thoughts slowly turn to Mouse. He wonders what Mouse is doing right now. Doubtless, he's still with his friends. The strange stabbing twist he feels in his belly when he thinks of Mouse with Seojun strikes again. Still there, but muted this time. Farther away in the pleasant, unfocused haze from the soju.

The restaurant is warm, and Charis is suddenly glad that he's not alone.

After they finish up their meal, they settle up their tab and head back to the Gleam dorms, and Charis hangs out with Kiki and Xiao Yu in their room for a little while more.

It's interesting to see the personality they've given it. It feels like them, in the way Charis supposes his and Mouse's room feels like them, too. They listen to music for a little while, something soft and soothing that floats through the air. Kiki and Xiao Yu both hang out on Xiao Yu's bed while Charis sits on the other, one leg tucked up underneath him. He's still got his makeup on his face.

"You doing okay?" Xiao Yu asks Charis. "For real. Be straight with me."

It's just the two of them at this point. Charis thinks that Kiki might be asleep.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay."

Charis breathes out a breath and extends both sets of toes. He looks down at his feet in their socks, gathering his thoughts. Maybe deciding what to say, if he decides to say more. How much to say.

"I think I'm with Mouse. We're—" He makes a vague spinning gesture in the air with a finger. "Running circles around each other. Something."

"Yeah, kinda figured."

Charis isn't exactly surprised by Xiao Yu's lack of surprise.

"Did Kiki tell you?"

"Yeah." Xiao Yu admits it easily. He snorts. "But I also have eyes, you know."

Charis nods. "Are you mad?"

Xiao Yu slants a glance at him. "You'd be able to tell if I was." He snorts. "Besides, you'll be doing me a favor, keeping him away from Kiki."

"I don't think he wants Kiki," Charis says seriously.

"No, I know. That was a joke."

They lapse into silence, and the heater hums in the room.

"I'm glad you're okay," Xiao Yu says.

"Thanks," Charis says, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear. "For inviting me."

"It was Kiki's idea."

Kiki is more gone than either of them at this point. It's okay, though, because he's safe here. He's lean and narrow, without much fat on him to absorb the effects of the alcohol. He looks happy and content though, leaning heavily on Xiao Yu's shoulder, wrapped up in Xiao Yu's big, hooded jacket where it looks like he's fast asleep.

At the mention of his name, he cracks his cat-tilted eyes open and dimly waves his fingers at Charis, then goes back to lightly snoring against Xiao Yu's shoulder.

"Kiki?"

Charis is surprised. He's always been pretty sure that Kiki doesn't like him much.

"Mhm," Xiao Yu says.

He looks pretty tired, too. He has the look of a sleepy wolf guarding over its mate. Tired, but also deeply content and satisfied, like a dog licking its chops after a large meal. Looking at them together on the other side of the booth somehow makes Charis' heart ache.

His leg also aches as he pushes himself up from the bench. New tiredness, but also old injury. He's used to it by now. The only thing he has for that feeling is an age-old, familiar resentment and a different kind of exhaustion.

They're all getting tired, and Charis is aware he's intruding on the other two's space.

"I should get going," Charis says. He keeps his voice down to avoid bothering Kiki.

Light snores continue to come from Kiki's lightly parted lips, and his sharply beautiful face is softened a little into something angelic in sleep.

"You need help getting back?" Xiao Yu asks, looking at Charis' slight unsteadiness.

He had had quite a lot to drink, too.

Charis shakes his head. "No, I'm good. Take care of Kiki."

Xiao Yu nods, reaching over and shifting Kiki slightly with one arm to give him a more comfortable resting spot. In a little while, he'll help to lay him out better on the bed.

"I always do."

Charis can hear it in his words, the same comfortable, proprietary satisfaction. There's something that seems very warm about it, tinged with Xiao Yu's own rugged, spicy color. He wonders with a distant ache what it would feel like to have something like that. To protect and be protected like that.

Part of him can't help the way his mind wanders, wondering what kind of color he and Mouse would be.