An entire hour before his curfew, Chanyeol slunk home. He had accumulated a few trophies from the night, bits of costume that hung off his hastily re-tied piggy tails or around his neck or coiled around his wrist as a sort of badge count.
He felt too tired to shower before crawling into bed, so he stripped out of the shreds he called a costume and tugged on cotton pyjama bottoms, pulled the elastic bands from his hair and ruffled it a bit, settled his hard-earned prizes with the others he accumulated throughout his high school career, and finally realised that there was a lump in his bed. He actually put his clothes away that morning, so the lump could only be Minseok, unless his parents decided to surprise him with a dog. He pulled back the covers and exposed a pale back beneath a shirt ridden up from burrowing in the blankets.
It was Minseok.
"Hey," Chanyeol greeted softly. He scooted to lie around his friend, whose habit was to claim the middle of the bed. His nose wrinkled. "Why do you smell like a pool?"
"Lu Han pushed me in at the party."
"What?!" Chanyeol sat up, staring at the back of Minseok's head with wide eyes. "Why?"
"Because he's plastic. The plan worked too well, Chanyeol. He's really turned plastic." Minseok didn't cry, but he sounded like he wanted to, which made Chanyeol want to cry, and he felt comfortable enough with himself and with Minseok to allow himself to indulge in his sympathetic tears as he hugged his friend to sleep.