acatwhowrites: (C.A.P♡relaxed)
A Cat Who Writes ([personal profile] acatwhowrites) wrote2015-01-18 11:04 pm

Star in Our Hearts

title: Star in Our Hearts
players: Zhang Yixing/Lay, Kim Jongdae/Chen, Kim Jongin/Kai
word count: 1,480
rating: G
summary: Just being a high school student is hard enough, but trying to balance homework and exams with saving the world is a bit more stressful than Jongin really signed up for.

a.n.: Second fic written for kaixingforyou. (Original post here.)
This was supposed to be a sort of Sailor Moon AU, but it has been too many moons for me to really have accomplished that, but I still liked the idea and did some basic research into the series enough to set a basic scene. Jongin is Sailor Moon, Jondae (as Chen) is Luna, and Yixing is Tuxedo Mask. The brooches would be pendants, because I, personally, don't see too many men wearing brooches. A necklace made more sense. That's my reasoning.

Chen curled up on Jongin's math textbook, tucking his forepaws beneath his chest. It wasn't the most comfortable thing, with the pages of unfinished homework, so he kicked his hind feet a bit to settle on a hip. The rip of paper didn't concern him.

Jongin's silence upon returning from his shower, seeing the mess of papers, and just collapsing face-first onto the bed concerned him.

Sacrificing his own comfortable napping spot, Chen hopped to the pillows and padded to where the teenage hero was trying to smother himself in a fleece blanket. “You didn't comb your hair,” Chen greeted. He sat at Jongin's shoulder and dragged his tongue through the wet locks. It'd be a lot of work to get through the whole head of hair, but Jongin was really incompetent, sometimes, so he was lucky to have a dedicated friend like Chen.

Jongin said something, but it was muffled by the blanket. Chen crouched and rubbed his face against the boy's ear and shoulder, nudging him until he turned his head and breathed properly. “I said to gimme credit for even having the energy to shower.”

“It wasn't that bad of a day.”

You weren't tossed through a wall and half-buried by rubble.”

Chen sat up and swiped a paw over his muzzle, licking the back of the soft black foot and cleaning his forehead, mussing the crescent shape of white. “It hurt enough just watching it happen.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jongin turned his head away from the chatty cat and groaned as the grooming continued. The minute movements of his head aggravated the soreness in his neck and down his back that his shower did little to help.

It had not been an easy day. Thankfully, it wasn't a school day; he and his friends had already missed too many days to not be considered suspicious, although their teachers had yet to pull them all aside for the usual spiel of responsibilities and thinking about their futures. Jongin and Sehun met up with Zitao, an upperclassman friend, at a newly constructed mall. Lo and behold, trouble followed.

“At least you didn't destroy any stores this time.”

“No, just a whole hall of vendors' carts and a glass elevator.” He huffed at Chen's comforting purr.

“It's okay. You're not paying for it.” That made it okay.

They managed to beat the baddie down enough to retreat, so the aching trio made their own disappearing act before police could move in and potentially expose them.

Sometimes, Jongin wondered what would really happen if his identity was discovered. It couldn't be all that bad; he and his friends were doing a lot of good for humanity, not just the community.

“Next time you're getting your butt handed to you, and Tux shows up, you should totally get his number and get him to work his magic.” The cat chuckled at the reddened ears and walked up Jongin's shoulder to stretch over his spine, forepaws in his hair. He tucked is feet beneath him and let his tail hang over Jongin's side.

Jongin eyed the red rose on his desk. “I really don't think he'd be interested.”

“Never know until you ask.”

Jongin sighed and stared blankly at the one wall not covered in posters and photos. A side table sat against it, acting as a bedside table that was big enough for a lava lamp, his phone, a glass, and the pendant from Chen that transformed him into a lean, mean fighting-for-love-and-justice machine.

He reached to the table, ignoring the pull of his muscles and Chen's claws in his shoulder, and grabbed the pendant between his fingers. It wasn't on a very long chain, enough to hide under any shirt he usually wore, and it was rather pretty. Smooth, gold, simple, and really unassuming. It was amazing, Jongin thought, that something so ordinary could hold so much power.

It was a lot of responsibility.

“Why can't I just be normal?”

“You'd complain no matter what,” Chen countered. He climbed off the boy's back and returned to the desk. “Now finish your homework. You can manage the stress of this and school; I know you can. You've done it before.” The last comment was rather quiet, and Jongin didn't hear it with his ear on his mattress. It wasn't important now, anyway.

“I'm tired, Chen.”

“And I'm tired of your whining. C'mon. You don't want to fail. Your mom will take your games away.”

“Or you'll make a nest of my books,” Jongin groaned and sat up on his knees, frowning at his torn work. He crawled off his bed and rummaged through his desk for tape to salvage the papers.

“I like what I like. I can't help that your school has comfy paper.” Chen contorted his body to clean his back.

Jongin set the pendant on the corner of his desk, fixed his homework as best he could, and settled some headphones over his ears to focus all his attention on his textbooks. Chen sat on the windowsill and watched the moon, looking nostalgic. As nostalgic as a cat could, anyway.

Two and a half hours later, Jongin reached a point where he at least answered all the problems. Reading could be done during class. Notes could be borrowed for classmates. Jongin was beyond ready for bed and passed out on the way to his pillow.

It seemed like he'd just fallen asleep when his phone alarm was buzzing, and Chen was rubbing his face along Jongin's jaw, purring louder than the alarm. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

Chen was nice for only so long. “C'mon, sleepy! Up and at 'em. Get dressed, brush your teeth—please, dear Lord, brush your teeth—and feed me.” Jongin stumbled down the hall, stiff in addition to sore, and nearly tripped when Chen nipped the back of his ankle.

Breakfast was simple, toast and eggs. Chen cleaned the crumbs off both their plates.

Jongin stuffed his books and papers into his bag, pulled the pendant chain over his head and dropped it under his uniform shirt, and opened his bedroom window just enough for Chen to wander in and out. He'd taken the birds' affinity for the peak of the Kims' roof personally and made it his mission to return the house to its former birdless glory. He had to do something with his time, after all.

“Have a good day!” Chen called from the roof as Jongin rushed down the cement walk to the street.

A couple stops on the subway and Zhang Yixing, an exchange student, entered the subway car. He always had a smile for people, but Jongin kind of felt like it was friendlier when aimed at him. It could be wishful thinking. They were barely friends, yet.

“Good morning, Jongin.” They did know one another's names, which Jongin took as progress from the beginning of the school year, when his friends teased him about literally dropping to a crouch or covering his face when Yixing looked his way.

“Good morning.” Jongin scooted to his left, giving Yixing room to sit until the stop for school. He cringed at his body's protest.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I'm sore from dance practice.” Another bit of progress was being in the same dance group. Jongin grew up with jazz and ballet, but Yixing joining the freestyle classes might have influenced Jongin a little to branch out.

“Ah.” Yixing nodded. “I know some really good stretches that could help that. They help me, anyway.”

“Can't hurt to try.” He flinched at a particularly rough jostle of the train car. “I hope. I feel really old. I'm too young to feel this old.” He offered a timid smile. Their conversations usually didn't make it farther than classwork and the weather. “How about you? I heard you've been out a few times with migraines.”

“They come and go. I think it'd stress from being in a new place. Unfamiliar language, new people, classes … .” They nodded and fell silent. If Chen had been along, which he sometimes likes to do, he'd keep the conversation going just by himself, but neither Jongin nor Yixing were natural talkers. Yixing already had a reputation of being quiet, sweet, studious, and very reliable, while Jongin was just quiet and shy.

The automated voice crackled through the speakers, indicating their platform, and Jongin and Yixing stood by the door to squeeze out while career men and women pressed in.

A small group of students was already waiting, from other cars, for Yixing and waved. “I'll see you at school, Jongin. Have a good day.”

Jongin grinned and nodded. “You, too,” he said to Yixing's back. He played with the pendant beneath his shirt and sighed. He really didn't have the time to even consider taking on more responsibilities, even if a relationship with Yixing would be perfect.