"Hey, Tao could you come over here?" Yifan's voice calls from the other room.
Zitao sets down his cup of tea on the table and walks into the kitchen. He sees Jongdae and Yixing at the stove, tending to some instant ramyun that's come to a rolling boil.
"Hey, have you seen Yifan? I thought I heard his voice in here."
Jongdae looks up and purses his lips as he shakes his head. "I don't think I saw him. Maybe check the yard?" he suggests.
Zitao nods and heads out to the back door where Minseok and Luhan are kicking around a football, outlined in gold by the setting sun behind them.
He intercepts the ball and kicks it around, dodging them both with a laugh. "You guys see Yifan around here?" he asks as he kicks the ball back to Minseok.
"Yifan? I thought he went out to the city with everyone else," Luhan says.
"Huh, I swear I heard him call me earlier," Zitao mumbles.
He heads back inside, looking around the other rooms of the house before admitting defeat, finding them all empty, and settling back down onto the couch.
"Tao, where are you?" Yifan's voice calls again. It's definitely coming from the kitchen so he makes his way there again, frowning when he sees only Jongdae and Yixing again.
"You guys heard Yifan's voice, right? I'm not just starting to hear things?"
Jongdae and Yixing start to giggle, awfully suspect now. He raises an eyebrow at them.
Yixing pats Jongdae's arm. "Chenchen, show him," he urges.
Jongdae takes a deep breath, smoothing out his eyes and lips into a neutral expression. Zitao feels the hairs on his arms start to stand up straight.
"Jongdae, stop singing so loudly. I can't even hear myself think," Jongdae says in a voice that is unmistakably Yifan's.
Zitao bursts out into a fit of laughter, absolutely bewildered at the sight. "What the hell," he cries between breaths. "How did you even do that?! You sound exactly like him!"
"It's a new trick I've learned!" Jongdae proclaims, smile broad. "It seems I can change the pitch of my voice to sound like ones that I've heard before. Probably has to do with the electricity in soundwaves or something."
He clears his throat and furrows his brows in concentration. "My name is Yifan and I have the absolute worst taste in fashion."
Zitao and Yixing laugh loudly, their voices ringing through the high ceilings, but Zitao stops short when he feels a large, familiar hand clap onto his shoulder.
"What's this about me having the worst fashion sense now?" the actual Yifan asks, a seething smile on his lips.
Before anyone has a chance to react, Jongdae is bolting out of the room, leaving behind a steaming pot of ramyun and Zitao and Yixing in stitches.