Iphisyo (iphisto) wrote,
Iphisyo
iphisto

Headed to Hell for Heaven's sakes

Exo, Kris/Xiumin, PG-13
Fratboy dudebros AU 
~800 (+ extra snippets)
Warnings: Swearing, drug use



A/N: fratboy tokers idek??

***
     

“Stop it, you big mum,” Xiumin says, shoving at his arse. “Suho can mind the toddlers for a while.” 

“Excuse me,” Kris says, trying for arch and landing somewhere near “acid reflux playing up again”. He hoists himself up over the gutter and grunts. 

Xiumin gives a hup! and follows him up, dusting off his hands and balancing precariously on the tiles. Kris decides on the south side of the roof, with a better view of the woods that encroach on their backyard.  

“Here,” says Xiumin, producing a spliff from who knows where. 

“I don't-” Kris says weakly, the tiles digging into his palms as he leans back on his arms.

Xiumin rolls his shoulders and lights up. “Seriously, relax.”

“How are we going to get down?” Kris says, but they both know he's mostly just protesting so he can say he did later, for when the others invariably find out and try to give him shit for it. 

Xiumin passes the joint to him and looks over the edge as he lights his own. “I never broke my arm or anything as a kid. Maybe today's my lucky day?” He smiles easily. Kris sighs.

Doing his best to seem put-upon, Kris lies back and takes a hit. It wasn't a habit he indulged often, not when he was meant to be the Responsible President of the frat, but, well. He exhales into Xiumin's face, because he feels like being a dick and because he can. Xiumin just yawns at him and goes to snatch the joint back, but Kris holds it out of reach, laughing. Xiumin pouts until Kris bumps him with his shoulder. 

Kris wasn't best friends with Xiumin; Xiumin wasn't even officially part of the frat. Xiumin had become ingrained in the fraternity without pledging or taking part in the initiation rites, which always struck Kris are particularly unfair, considering that the initiation rites have fire AND chanting AND face paint. It had been a while since the frat had an opportunity to dust off the old ceremonial robes. 

Xiumin interrupts his thoughts with a lazy nudge to his shins. “You’re thinking too hard. I can hear it from here.” 

Kris can feel himself loosening, the tension unwinding like cotton from a reel. His mouth feels cottony too, and so does his mind, spinning faster than he can keep up with. He watches Xiumin watch the sunset and his arm is warm against his and the tiles are warm even though they’re digging into his back, and he feels very full and very empty at once.  Clouds, stained a deep velvet by the sunset, float overhead. 

“Have you ever- like,” he starts, but the words sitting at the back of his throat feel weird and wrong, like the more they want to spill out the more he should hold them in.

Xiumin laughs, probably at him. “C’mon, out with it.”

Kris stays silent, a little petulantly, a little because he can’t be bothered to organise his brain. It’s easier to let it slip away, back into the stream, and instead watch as the sky bleeds out from fiery red to the dark, bruised blue of after dusk. 

Xiumin steals Kris’ joint, and Kris can’t muster the energy to care, watching out of the corner of his eye as he finishes it for him. The ember is a point of light amongst Xiumin's fingers, his strong hands, the line of his forearms propped on his knees-

“What I was saying was,” Kris tries again, even though his tongue feels dry and too big for his mouth, “have you ever- like, have you ever, wanted to, you know, with your friends, like-” his hands move uselessly in the air in front of him.

Xiumin smiles slowly. “I’ve been hit on better by seventeen year olds.”

Kris rolls on him, because he’s a tiny dumb idiot who deserves to be crushed, but at some point he ends up with his hands on Xiumin’s arms, and Xiumin’s face close to his, and when he tries to move off they just sort of drag together with the late humidity and heat. Obviously, he has no option but to kiss him. 

“Sorry, I,” Kris tries as he moves off him, not knowing where to start. How the fuck am I going to get off this roof, he thinks. 

“Okay,” Xiumin says. 

“What?”

Xiumin pinches his arm, only enough to smart a little. “Okay, as in let’s do that again. Asshole.”

Kris tries to sit up on his elbows, but suddenly Xiumin is shuffling closer beside him.  When Xiumin kisses him again it feels like a rubber band is stretching out in his chest, twanging as he catches the smell of Xiumin, mixed in with the damp smell of weed and axe deodorant and laundry detergent. The tiles are still digging into Kris’ butt. 

“Okay,” he manages, voice twisting, “Okay. But seriously. How are we getting down.”

Xiumin pinches him again.

[Extra snippets]
***

When he gets to Chanyeol’s room he’s greeted with the usual scene: Chanyeol passed out on the bed and carnage everywhere else. What’s new, however, is the window open to the early morning and the stranger crouched by the side of Chanyeol’s bed. 

“Can I help you,” Kris says, voice rough with sleep. He leans against the door frame, scratching at his neck. The guy near the bed turns to look at him.

“Oh,” he says, not sounding all that surprised. He gives a quick grin and continues rummaging. “Nope. All good. Just gotta steal-” He gives a victorious grin as he pulls a baggie from under yet another pile of dirty laundry, shoving it up under the pink beanie he’s wearing. He takes a moment to make sure it’s on straight, mussing up his hair, and Kris assesses the situation. Chanyeol probably did deserve it, whatever he did. 

“Yeah, okay. I’m going back to bed,” Kris says, waving goodbye. Chanyeol gives another snore and the guy waves back cheerily, dusting off his hands and ducking out the window again.

***

Xiumin is nothing compared to Chen, who delights in generally making life hell and playing music loudly while everyone else is busy being hungover and hating the world because oh my fucking god Chen if you don’t turn that off by the count of three I’m Going To Fucking Kill You. One- 

Of course, when he finally makes it downstairs he’s greeted with Chen chirping “Pancakes!” and Xiumin shoving a plateful towards him with a smile. Kyungsoo waves a spatula at him from the stove. 

“Thanks,” he says, pulling back a chair to sit and watch them. They’re like really shitty kitchen fairies, Kris realises, watching Xiumin almost set fire to a tea-towel while Chen cackles from the sidelines.

***

Xiumin coasts over to the front lawn, kicking his skateboard up as he hits the grass and catching it easily.  He notices Kris’ look and grins. “Let me guess, you never learnt to-” 

“No,” Kris says, just as casually, already walking inside. Xiumin follows, his backpack bouncing with his stride.

“Aw, c’mon! I bet you were the un-co kid like Chanyeol. Too many joints and knobby parts for your own good, right?” Xiumin says, bouncing around him to walk backwards through the front door.  Kris winces uncomfortably at the memories.

“Nah, his knobby bits are fine,” Luhan says, ducking his head around the corner from the lounge with a giggle. 

***



A/N: Thank you for reading, feedback welcome :) 
Tags: character: kris, character: xiumin, fandom: exo, pairing: kris/xiumin
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  • 16 comments

  • Go Wizzerk (ii)

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