Chapter Text
The sun beat down with not a cloud in the sky to intervene and allow some relief from the midsummer heat. The crowded smell of sweat and sunblock and baked cement intermingled into what might have otherwise been an unpleasant odor, where it not for where it was that the scent was being smelled. Sure, no one imagined that magic and childhood wonder smelled like that, but it was something that near everyone would put aside for a day of carefree amusement in the magical place on earth.
A man sat under the awning of a shop, the only place in the park that was shaded from the sun where he could also sit down, looking like the typical Disneyland tourist, with a sun visor, backpack, and overpriced water. The all-black ensemble that was paired with it, took away from the image a bit. It looked as though the Grim Reaper had taken a day off, trading in the robe and scythe for a cut out black tank top and a similar shade of black athletic shorts.
To be fair, in another life, said man might’ve been identified by a moniker similar to the Grim Reaper. Maybe the Grim Reaper’s dirt-bag third cousin. But the swarm of sunbaked tourists and underpaid employees wouldn’t know that. They would at most question the man’s choice in attire and move about their day trying to track down signatures or to haul ass to the other side of the park for their favorite ride.
That was all the same to him, having arrived the night before on a flight from Australia, he wasn’t exactly brimming with excitement to discuss his fashion choices with middle-aged, dads in khaki shorts.
“Anybody sitting here?” Sleeping Beauty asked, fanning herself with a brochure and taking a seat on the bench beside him. “Well, I’ll be up in a minute anyway. If the Mouse asks, I was sitting down to get a rock out of my shoe.”
“Naturally,” The man said. “Long day, your Majesty.”
“Always.” She muttered. “You here with anyone? No offense, but you’re not really our typical age demographic. Unless you’ve got kids or something.”
“Nah, all my kids are grown up.”
Sleeping Beauty seemed a little confused.
That was fair enough. The man was only twenty-six, nearly twenty-seven. Not exactly the age one tended to send their offspring out into the world.
“They’re not really mine, I’m just the designated driver, so I’ve resigned myself to my parental role.”
“Ah, sounds like my roommate Di-Cinderella.” Her voice took a sharp uptick at the end as a child approached with a signature book. “We have sleepovers whenever she visits my castle.”
The child seemed pleased enough by the response, turning to the man.
“Who are you?” The child asked.
“Christopher. But most people just shorten it to Chris.”
“Yes, Prince Christopher and I were just discussing the parade tonight. I would love to see many young royals like yourself come and join us.”
“You’re a prince?” The child said, clearly skeptical.
“Um…apparently I am,” The man said, much to Sleeping Beauty’s amusement. “However, I’m in disguise right now because there’s an evil sorcerer running amuck trying to steal my magic. If you see him, don’t tell him that you found me, okay?”
The child’s parents smiled fondly at the interaction from a short distance off.
“Well, if I’m going to keep a secret, can you give me a signature?”
“You drive a hard bargain, my friend, but I think we can make it happen.”
The man signed the book and the child went on their way with their parents.
“Nice improve there,” Sleeping Beauty said, standing up and cracking her neck. “Want my job?”
“I’d have to make alterations to the dress, but otherwise I’d take you up on it.”
Sleeping Beauty snorted. “Yeah, your shoulders are bit broader than mine. It was worth a short to ask. It is hot as Hades in this thing.”
“I’d imagine so.”
“Well, I have to go meet Belle over by the Teacup ride in ten minutes.” She sighed. “ I hope to see you around, Prince Christopher, it was nice talking with you.”
“’Twas my pleasure, your Majesty.” The man said with a little flourish of his hand.
And so, as Sleeping Beauty left, the man was left alone in the shade of the little shop in the most magical place on earth.
That was until he felt a presence standing behind him.
The man looked up to see an employee holding a Mickey Mouse balloon standing behind him.
“Excuse me, the young man over there said to bring this over to you. So…um…here you go.”
Taking the balloon, the man looked over the crowd to the balloon cart across the walkway. A figure in a baseball cap and sunglasses leaned casually against the shop, a drink in their hand.
They waved when he caught sight of them, a smile visible even from that distance.
“Thank you.” The man said distractedly, standing up abruptly.
With a few hasty apologies and some footwork that would make any footballer worth their salt feel put to shame, the man hurried through the swarms. Normally, he might’ve been embarrassed by his own lack of decorum, but it had been three years. And decorum meant next to shit in comparison to that.
There was time in the future to be ashamed. But there wasn’t a second more that he would be willing to wait to see Han Jisung again.
“I’ve been standing over here for like ten minutes it took you-“
Jisung was cut off on impact, breath nearly knocked out of him, as Bang Chan hit him full force with a hug.
“Dude, air, please.” Jisung gasped, holding his drink to the side to avoid spillage. “Don’t kill me. It’s been three years, that would kind of kill the vibe.”
“Shit, Jisung, shut up and let me have this.” Chan murmured, still holding on as if his life depended on it.
He wasn’t crying. Really. It was just hot as hell and eye sweat was a totally real phenomenon.
“You’re getting my shoulder wet.”
“I asked you to shut up.”
Jisung didn’t speak again until Chan pulled back.
“You done now?”
“Yeah.”
“Feel better?”
“Much.”
Jisung grinned, the heart shaped smile still so familiar despite the passage of time. “You look good for being three years older.”
“You too.” Chan said, taking in everything.
Jisung had bulked up a bit in the time they’d spent apart, evident sue to the sleeveless nature of his shirt. He looked healthy. Stronger than Chan had ever seen him.
It looked good on him.
“You’re walking now?” Jisung asked.
“I practically lived with my physical trainer for the first two years. Her and my therapist.” Chan admitted.
As soon as he’d gotten settled, he’d looked into both, finding Nancy, his trainer, and Paula, his therapist shortly thereafter. It had taken a few months to get an appointment with either, but he’d managed to get on their regular rotation. They were both brutal and unyielding with him, people who wouldn’t take any of his bullshit, which was what he needed. After so long of having people fall over backwards for his lies and excuses, it was refreshing. He owed them a lot for the crap they had to deal with on his end.
“And you, Sungie? What have you been up to?” He asked, leaning back against the wall of the shop to watch the crowd.
“I have an apartment. All my neighbors are retirees who’ve forcibly made me the announcer for BINGO night because I’m the only one with a loud enough voice. They don’t really ask about my past all that much, just so long as I don’t play favorites during the games they let me have my secrets. It’s nice and quiet…usually.” Jisung said with a fond smile. “And I have a dog now. Bbami. He’s cute. I’ll have to show you pictures sometime.”
“I’d like that.” Chan said, and he meant it. He was happy that Jisung had found a little quiet corner to call his own.
“Good, because you’re his god-father. It’s officially in the will.”
“It’s too bad you’re not allowed to die before me.” Chan said, nudging Jisung playfully. “So that’ll end up being a moot addition.”
“Yeah, well, the retirees are very into BINGO. One of them might take me out if I make a wrong move.”
“At least I’ll know who to look into.”
“Good luck. I’m pretty sure one of those guys has gotten away with murder. He told me about it when he thought I was his deceased wife when I brought over some containers that I’d borrowed and he hadn’t put on his glasses.” Jisung said, his eyes wide to emphasize how serious he was being. “I had another lock installed just in case.”
“Better to be safe than sorry when around geriatric murderers.” Chan said. “Speaking of, where’s everyone else?”
Jisung made a face. “The hell kind of Segway was that? And what does that make you?”
“King of the Geriatric Murderers. And how would you transition from the two?” Chan asked defensively. “Technically we’ll all be geriatric- criminals at the very least- eventually.”
“Fine. But I get the motorized scooter.”
“Deal. So long as I get first dibs on the prune juice.”
“And as a Segway, usually announcing a left turn before you make it is helpful to avoid conversational whiplash.” Jisung said. “To answer your question.”
Chan rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, I wasn’t exactly well socialized.”
“Neither was I, babe.” Jisung whispered, patting Chan on the shoulder sympathetically. ”Anyway… I was promised Disney and I want the whole experience. The others are in the park somewhere, probably, assuming Jeongin didn’t board the wrong flight or went to the wrong resort. We just have to track them down.”
“How much do you want to bet that you find more of them than me?”
“Rest of this pineapple heaven I have,” Jisung said, shaking his drink. “And the spare change I currently have in my pocket from spending an obscene amount of money on said drink.”
That was as good as anything. Though, Chan had a sneaking suspicion Jisung would finish it early out of spite in case he lost.
“Deal. Meet back here in two hours?”
“Sounds good to me. Try not to miss me too much.”
Chan thought better than to use the unholy finger in the place of childhood dreams but settled for a dirty look that was not very prince-like.
“See you when I win.”
“In your dreams, Christopher.”
It turned out that Jisung had been right in his assertion that hide and seek was a bad idea. Especially when the sun and sweat existed.
And he’d only found Minho.
“I swear on all things holy that if you don’t really have a sprained ankle I will throw you off a rollercoaster.”
Minho clung onto his back even tighter. “That would be a waste of three years. I thought you would miss me.”
“It wasn’t my choice to bring you on. I didn’t even know you.”
“But you love me anyway. Because your favorite child loves me.”
Chan stopped and craned his neck to look at Minho. “How did you two meet anyway? I don’t think either of you mentioned.”
“No, we haven’t,” Minho said. “If you tell Jisung I told you, I’ll throw you off a rollercoaster.”
“Fine.”
He set Minho down on a bench, rolling his shoulders back.
“He was running away from the police. Apparently. he’d cussed them out when they tried to take him back to his foster home.” Minho said, looking off into space, his expression fond. “When they tried to grab him, he kicked one in the shins and took off.”
“That tracks.” Chan said, remembering not so fondly the time after the trials where Jisung had started getting reckless and angry.
Jisung was entitled to his anger, but the recklessness had given Chan his first of many grey hairs.
“I saw him running. I had had a shit day, but for some reason I pulled over. And for some reason he trusted me enough to get it.” Minho said, shaking his head with a wry laugh. “Little shit forced me to drive for nearly half an hour to lose those bastards. I dropped him off at an arcade, gave him some money for food, and told him to call me if he needed me. I didn’t really expect him to, but then two years later the kid had the nerve to rope me into that nonsense.”
“He has a way of worming into people’s hearts. It’s pretty unnerving.”
Minho nodded in agreement. “Remember the threat. I will stick by it.”
“Promise, Jisung won’t be told.”
“Good.”
It was a benign secret. Something mischievous. Not the hateful secrets that had been bought and sold in days past. Chan was fairly sure that Jisung wouldn’t maim one of them for the exchange. At least not in Disneyland. Outside the park was more questionable.
“Well, my time is up, and I’m pretty sure, I lost, so do you want to grab one of those scooter things and make a quick snack and suveniers run before we head back?”
Minho shrugged. “As long as the suveniers are cumbersome to carry around all day.”
“I lost, Minho,” Chan said, standing up. “That level of pettiness is a given.”
Plus, they couldn’t complain about it because social convention ingrained that you don’t get to complain about gifts given to you. And just because Chan was nice by nature didn’t mean he couldn’t lean into the side of him that nurtured him to stoop that low for occasions such as this one.
It was the perfect plan as it turned out.
And Sleeping Beauty was more than happy to enlist some other Princesses to help out in carrying out the plot and the souvenirs. There were perks to having friends in high places. Cinderella even suggested using the secret cast member shortcuts to get there faster without having to compete with the crowd of tourists.
If vacation was this entertaining, perhaps Chan would take some more often.
Seungmin had to cart around a Mickey Mouse suitcase.
Hyunjin got saddled with Disneyland personalized wall Décor.
Jeongin was forced to lug around a giant stuffed Tigger.
Changbin wrestled with a Pizza Planet pizza maker.
Felix got a Frozen themed bedding set.
And Jisung got a Ratatouille themed cheese board.
All the while Chan held onto his Nemo mug, and Minho was playing with the Cheshire Cat bobble head that had so bemused him in the shop, both stealing knowing, impish looks at one another as the others tried to figure out how to react and what they were going to do.
“So, congrats on winning,” Chan said finally, smothering down a smile. “As the losers, Minho and I thought we’d be gracious and gift you all with souvenirs to commemorate your victory and our long-awaited reunion. I’d also like to thank the royalty here with us, without whom these gifts would not have been able to have been bestowed upon you.”
He waved at Sleeping Beauty who was signing autographs with Snow White a short distance away.
She winked at him before going back into character.
While the kids were complaining, Chan couldn’t help but bask in their warmth that he’d been without for what had felt like centuries.
Hyunjin, who still bore the scar on his face, but whose hair and spirit had grown back strong and healthy. Changbin, whose fingers still struggled to grip things, but whose arms stayed strong as they nearly strangled Felix in a hug. Seungmin, who still had a protective eye out in the crowd of strangers, but who’s expression softened into a reluctant smile under Minho’s teasing. Felix, who had to cover the past branded into his skin with fire and knives, but whose laugh was still warm and infectious. And Jeongin, who still strayed off to the side, but who let himself be pulled back again.
His kids were all here. Alive. And happy.
It was more than he’d ever dared hope for them three years ago, yet, there it was, right in front of him. Even if he had imagined a happy ending, he doubted it would have even come close to the beauty of what his eyes took in that moment.
“That was an underhanded move.” Jisung said softly, appearing out of nowhere beside Chan.
Chan shifted between his feet, looking away innocently. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”
“Sure, babe. You just knew I needed this cheese board.”
“Exactly.”
Jisung shook his head. “Some things don’t change, do they?”
“Yeah, but some things do.” Chan said, looking over at Jisung tenderly as he watched the others.
“Such is life, I suppose. Change and stagnation coexisting.” Jisung sighed, finally noticing Chan staring. “What?”
Chan pulled him against his side. “I just missed this.”
“It’s been two hours.” Jisung mumbled.
He didn’t try to escape from Chan’s grasp though.
“You know what I mean, you brat.”
“You realize they’re all going to make you carry that stuff, right?” Jisung said.
Chan laughed. “I took that into consideration. I also paid for a row of lockers for the day.”
“Softie.”
“Guilty.”
“Are we going to do this shit or not?” Minho asked from his scooter, bumping it against Chan’s shin like a toddler. “I’m bored.”
Such was life.
“Let’s go, kids, we’re wasting daylight!” Chan said in his ‘everybody’ voice, gathering the attention of his Strays. “I have some lockers for all that, now let’s go.”
He made a motion with his hand, pointing the kids in the direction of their next destination.
The day was filled with what mattered most: that they were together, and they could see each other again.
It ended off with them watching fireworks light up the sky.
Chan saw the light glimmering in all of the transfixed eyes beside him, staring upward with delight.
Three years.
So long, and yet nothing compared to the years they had ahead of them.
The time had been worth it. They hadn’t changed from the people he had known before. Not in such a simple way. They had become more of what Chan had known them to be. They had grown into their skin, filling out the hallowed places to become more whole.
Life was no longer a terrifying game, but a thrilling adventure.
While they may have started out as simply a team, there was no doubt to be had as to what they were now.
Family.
And Chan couldn’t wait for what was awaiting them as they stared down the future.
Together.