#fandom:exo

But as soon as the ring of the phone stops, it starts again. Better to just answer it. "Hello?" It’s Yixing’s voice on the other side of the line, “Minseok hyung!” “Mmmm, why are you calling me so early in the morning?” “Ah, about that,” Yixing pauses, “I have a really big favor to ask you.” Minseok sits up, blanket falling down his chest. Yixing doesn’t ask for favors. If he’s calling this early in the morning for one, it must be important. “What is it? Is everyone okay?” “We're fine, but there’s something wrong with Celeste. My mom says we need to get her to the vet’s office as soon as we can.” Minseok winces a bit at the news. He’s always had a soft spot for Yixing’s pet bunny. “Is she going to be okay?” “I’m hoping it's not too serious. The thing is, we’re supposed to pick up Luhan from the airport in a few hours.” Minseok furrows his brows. This Luhan person sounds familiar but he can’t place him. “Who?” “Luhan, my cousin. He’s staying with us for the summer.” So that’s who he is. “Is this you trying to ask me if I can pick him up?" Minseok makes sure to keep his voice light. Yixing probably already feels guilty enough and there's no reason to make it worse. There's the sound of drawers closing on the other line. Yixing breathes a sigh of relief, "Hyung, that would be so amazing. I didn't know who else to call. You're the only person I know with a driver's license." "Yixing-ah, it's fine. Anything to help." "His plane lands at 9:30. My mom said to stop by our house before you leave. Is that okay?" Minseok glances back at the alarm clock, 7:10. “Sure. I can be there in twenty minutes?” “You’re a lifesaver!” The airport terminal bustles with people dragging luggage and a constant underlying hum of chatter. Minseok stands in the middle of it all, holding a cardboard sign printed with Luhan’s name in Yixing’s messy scrawl. He tries to keep it thrust out in front of his body, easier to see. He has no idea what Luhan looks like, the only pictures in Yixing’s house snapshots of the pair as kids, before Yixing’s father uprooted their family from China for a job transfer. Yixing had stuffed the chunky piece of cardboard in his hands unceremoniously, assuring him that Luhan knew some Korean so hopefully things should be okay. Meanwhile Mrs. Zhang had given him about a hundred hugs and a hundred thank yous, only stopping to insist that he take twenty thousand won for gas money and stay for dinner that night. (He refused at first, insisting it was the least he could do to help out and that mostly he hoped Celeste would be okay. But the Zhang family could be pretty unrelenting when they wanted to be.) Minseok looks down at his watch, 9:37. This next wave of people should be from the Beijing flight, so he raises the cardboard sign above his head, keeping watch for anybody who might be headed his way. That’s when he sees him: a boy around his own age with dark hair flopping into his eyes and knobbly knees. The boy searches through the crowd for a few moments before his eyes land on the sign, and confusion washes over his face. “Hello,” he says, bowing slightly towards Minseok. “I’m Luhan. Where are my aunt and cousin? Do you know them?” He’s impressed by the boy’s Korean. It’s a bit too slow to be considered fluent, but his pronunciation is good. Probably better than Yixing’s, if Minseok is being honest. "Something came up and um, Yixing asked if I could pick you up." He makes sure to speak as simply and clearly as he can. Luhan listens intently, digesting the words. His eyebrows furrow, equal parts confusion and concern. "They're okay!" Minseok continues, realizing that he's made it sound much more serious than it actually is. "I'm Yixing's friend. Kim Minseok." A beat passes before Luhan smiles and nods. He has a nice smile, soft and genuine, and his eyes crinkle up at the edges. He's ridiculously pretty. "Yes, okay." Minseok reaches out for the handle on one of the luggage bags. "I'll help?" "Thank you." They're both weaving out of the crowd, Luhan following closely as Minseok leads them out. Then they're in the car, laughing and talking soon enough. (Luhan tentatively asks about soccer, when he notices a pair of dirt covered cleats in the backseat. Minseok can easily talk about soccer all day. Later, when TVXQ comes up in conversation followed by very manly squeals from both boys, Minseok thinks this summer might not be too bad after all.) June, 2018 "Oh god, how do you think they're going to take this?" Luhan asks, playing with his fingers. His eyes flutter faster than a hummingbird's wings. He's been pacing around their apartment for the better part of an hour. Minseok wants to tie him to a chair. "It's going to be fine." Minseok tries not to roll his eyes and bends over to tie his sneakers. "Put your jacket on, we don't want to be late." Luhan doesn't say anything in response, just nods his head. Then they're out the door. "Playing against you guys is no fair," Jongdae whines. Minseok laughs before flopping down on the grass next to Luhan. His shirt clings to his body, damp from exertion. The heave of his lungs feels pleasant and familiar. Yixing's head pops up over Jongdae's shoulder, his mouth set in a firm pout. "It's like you’re sharing a brain or something." "Guess you just can't get on our level," Luhan grins. Minseok throws a palm into the air, smiling at the satisfyingslap of Luhan's hand against his own. The sun burns too bright overhead, so Minseok closes his eyes, swirls of color floating behind the lids. "Better get a move on getting those snacks, losers." "Yeah," Luhan joins. Minseok hears him pat at his stomach. "I'm starving." Jongdae lets out a huff, and Minseok pops one eye open in time to see him grab Yixing by the hand and drag him off the field. They fade further into the distance. A few minutes of silence pass. It's strange how things are quiet now, when the spaces between them had always been so full. "Please tell me you aren't still nervous," Minseok says. Luhan shuffles a bit next to him, turning onto his side. “How can you not be?" “I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal. It’s not like we’re never going to talk to each other again or something.” “But it’s still-” Luhan’s cell phone vibrates, cutting him off. “Hey.” “Luhan hyung!” Minseok hears Jongdae exclaim on the other side of the line. “There’s an open table near the snack stall, so come here instead.” Luhan grunts an agreement before he stands up from the grass. “So what’s this important thing you have to tell us?” Jongdae asks after they’re settled, stuffing half a skewer of odeng into his mouth. Minseok steals a glance at Luhan sitting next to him, face drawn and pale. It’s not surprising, all things considered. Difficult conversations are always his burden to bear. “Well-” “Hold on!” Yixing interrupts. His normally sleepy eyes are still droopy, but bright with excitement. “Can we guess what it is?” “Mmmm,” Jongdae nods excitedly before swallowing. “You guys are adopting, aren’t you?” “And you want us to be the godparents.” Minseok wants to laugh. Luhan looks horrified. “Not exactly,” Luhan manages to choke out. It’s hard to keep a straight face, but Minseok fights the urge to giggle. “We’re getting a divorce.” Both Jongdae and Yixing wrinkle their brows in twin expressions of confusion. The bright excitement in their eyes trickle out, replaced with something duller. Luhan breathes grow ragged as they both wait for some sort of reaction. Minseok braces himself for Jongdae’s short temper, and wants to pat Yixing’s hand in comfort. Jongdae cracks first. “What the fuck? You spent an entire afternoon with us and you’re just telling us now?” “We didn’t know how to tell you,” Luhan’s voice sounds small to Minseok’s ears. “But how you can both act so normal?” Yixing looks calm, but he trips over a few words. Minseok’s known him long enough to know he’s flustered. Minseok inhales deeply, “It’s not going to change anything. At least not much.” He turns to glance at Luhan and grins, bumping his shoulder. “We’re still best friends.” Jongdae looks unconvinced. "That's not possible." The statement is grim and flat, like the set of his lips. “Why are you being so negative about all of this?” Minseok bristles. He knows that some things will change, it’s inevitable, but he expected Jongdae and Yixing to take the news better. “Because I think you’re both making a big mistake.” Yixing folds a hand over Jongdae’s. “It just feels like this is all coming out of nowhere.” “We’ve been fighting so much, for so long,” Minseok feels Luhan’s eyes turn to him, giving him that look, but he ignores it and continues on. “This is for the best.” “It is,” Luhan adds. “We don’t want to end up hating each other.” Jongdae pulls his hand from Yixing's to cross his arms, and raises an eyebrow. “I’m not convinced.” Now small coils of anger unfurl in Minseok’s chest. Jongdae is being so unreasonable about everything. More like a little kid throwing a tantrum than the supportive friend Minseok assumed he would be. “Well, get convinced,” Minseok snaps. “You guys are lucky we aren’t dragging you through some awful breakup.” Luhan places a hand on his shoulder, and like a weight, it grounds him. “This is the best thing for us,” Luhan says. “Just have a little faith?” “I mean it’s weird,” Yixing muses aloud. “But we just want you both to be happy.” Jongdae rolls his eyes and stuffs the rest of the odeng into his mouth. “Yeah,” he agrees begrudgingly. Minseok smiles. “We still have time for another game, if you feel like getting your asses kicked again. What’d you say?” “I got you, under my skin!” Minseok belts out, before losing his balance and tumbling into a heap on top of Luhan. The rain had forced them inside for the day, and when the boredom had gotten to be too much (there’s only so many hours of television they can watch) they decided to fall back on a tried and true pastime: a karaoke battle. It had been going on for the past hour with each of them taking turns singing, trying to outdo the other in how horrible they could sound. But Minseok had just finished deploying his death blow, a flawlessly off key version of Mirotic. “You always win,” Luhan whines. “That’s because my singing is atrocious and your’s is too pretty.” Luhan laughs, mouth wide open like he’s trying to catch flies, and pushes on Minseok's shoulder. “True.” “Ugh, I’m so not in the mood to schmooze with people tonight.” Minseok pouts from the other end of the couch, his feet resting on Luhan’s lap. “Same,” Luhan agrees, “but we have to go. You know we’re half the reason Yixing sells so many paintings.” Minseok runs a hand through his hair. It’s slightly damp with sweat. “We should start charging commission. We’re like the dream team.” “The money would be nice.” Luhan pats at Minseok’s ankle. “But either way we have to get ready.” “I know, I know,” Minseok grumbles, drawing his knees up to his chest and releasing Luhan from his makeshift prison. “I’m gonna shower first. Would you mind ironing the shirt I have hanging on the door of my closet?” “Yeah, but don’t take so long in the bathroom okay? You always use up all the hot water.” Minseok sticks his tongue out behind Luhan’s back. It's not his fault that he hates cold showers. But a comfortable warmth settles in the pit of his stomach as he watches Luhan close the door to the bedroom behind him. A rather large crowd of people mill about the gallery for the opening night of Yixing's latest exhibit. The collection is about the familiar through a foreign eye, or something. Minseok can't really remember. Anyway, he's more interested in the canapés the waiters are serving. Not that Yixing's art isn't stunning, but he figures once you've gone through the whole gallery opening thing once, they're pretty much all the same. "We should find Yixing and Jongdae," Luhan says, pulling Minseok forward by his elbow. "You're right, but first I want some of those crab things. They look delicious." He bends his head down and looks up at Luhan through his lashes, making sure to widen his eyes just enough. It's the sort of puppy dog look he knows Luhan can't resist. He's right. Luhan softens and tries to fight the upward curl of his lips. "Okay fine, grab some on the way." Minseok squeals in victory. The pair winds their way through the crowd, stopping every so often for Minseok to sample one of the appetizers floating around. (The crab is delicious, just like he thought it would be. Some of the other things? Not so much.) They spot Jongdae and Yixing a few minutes later, chatting with a man around their own age. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Kim Junmyeon,” Yixing pushes the man standing next to him forward after introducing both Minseok and Luhan in turn. Minseok takes in the expensive suit, artfully mussed hair. He’s handsome, almost annoyingly so. Like an actor or something. This Junmyeon guy chuckles, demure with a smile hidden behind his hand. “I think you mean your best customer, Yixing-ssi.” “You’re much more than just a bank account to me,” Yixing laughs in return, patting at Junmyeon’s shoulder. Jongdae leans in, a bit conspiratory. “Junmyeon-ssi used to have a very big crush on our Yixing-ah.” He smiles, half mocking and half bemused. “But then I met Jongdae-ssi, and I knew right away I had no chance. They’re perfect for each other.” There’s no hint of sarcasm in Junmyeon’s demeanor, just sincerity, and Minseok fights the urge to roll his eyes. Jongdae on the other hand, preens under the compliment. Luhan fidgets too, smoothing out some non-existent wrinkle in his shirt and toying with his bangs. He has the same look on his face that he gets when he thinks someone’s attractive, but doesn’t want Minseok to notice. Slightly constipated, mixed in with a tilt of the head and sparkling eyes. What’s worse is Junmyeon noticed too, and seems kinda... into it? Yeah, this Junmyeon guy is definitely annoying. "How about I show you around?" Luhan blurts out. "To show you some of my favorite pieces, I mean." A moment passes and Luhan bites his lip, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'd like that very much Luhan-ssi." Junmyeon smiles wide and brilliant, showing off two rows of gleaming, perfectly straight teeth. Then a matching smile blooms across Luhan's face, and the two walk away, leaving Minseok dumbfounded in their wake. "I think it's going to work out," Jongdae wiggles his eyebrows and elbows Yixing's ribs lightly. "I wasn't trying to make anything happen." Yixing shrugs his shoulders. "I just thought they'd get along well.” Betrayal bubbles in Minseok's gut. "Whatever. I'm going to get more food." Rain falls heavy and hard outside, one of those late summer storms that bring the promise of autumn. The overcast sky keeps the living room grey and dreary. It’s the perfect kind of day for laying around on the couch and watching a soccer match, no guilt at the thought of letting the hours waste away unproductively. “Luhan,” Minseok calls out. The past few weeks have seen Luhan basically vanish, like a ghost, from the apartment. Most of his time is spent with Junmyeon now, going out on dates. Just the thought of them talking, laughing, holding hands,kissing, is enough to make sour bile rise up Minseok's throat. So he tries not to think about it much. But it's hard, when days that used to be filled up so much with each other are emptier now. Like his life has become a puzzle piece that no longer fits. He would almost trade back the constant bickering and fighting if it meant he could have Luhan again, too. "What's up?" Luhan asks, walking out of the guest bedroom. He rubs a towel through his damp hair. It’s strange that Luhan hadn’t come out earlier, at the start of the match. Manchester United games had always been their favorites. Luhan would get worked up and yell at the television, Minseok would just laugh. When the game was over the frenzy would spill over into sex. One time they even managed to break the coffee table. "Game's on," Minseok answers, pointing his beer towards the television. "You don't have any plans today, right?" Luhan shakes his head. "Nope, I'm totally free." "Then sit your butt down and watch this with me." Minseok pats at the spot next to him. He tries not to let his glee at Luhan's lack of a date show. He guesses he fails miserably because Luhan gives him a weird look before walking into the kitchen for a beer of his own. Watching the game together feels like old times, something before everything went to shit. They've drank quite a few beers over the course of the game. They're play wrestling on the floor, and Minseok hovers over Luhan, when the world stops. Everything feels the same, but different. Like it’s tilted on its axis. Suddenly the air is charged with electricity and Minseok can’t do anything but stare at the pink of Luhan’s lips, their sheen teasing him from below. It would be so easy to lean down, make Luhan weak and pliable and soft underneath him. So he does. Luhan sighs when Minseok's mouth meets his own, like he's been lost in the desert and this is an oasis. Minseok wonders just how long Luhan's been waiting for this. What sort of torture it must be to live with a constant questioning hope. But Luhan tastes like beer and bubblegum, and something so distinctly Luhan: coffee dates and shopping trips and soccer games and the sunflowers he gives Minseok every anniversary. Luhan feels good, he feels right, he feels like home. Then Minseok isn't thinking at all. He runs a hand over Luhan’s side, fingers tracing the outline of his ribcage under his shirt, marveling at the way it expands in time with Luhan’s shaky inhales. “So beautiful,” Minseok whispers and it sounds like a prayer, muttered into the hollows of Luhan’s clavicle. Fingers slide into Minseok's hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He shivers, nipping at Luhan's neck. He can feel his erection growing, pressing against the expanse of Luhan's stomach. "Hold on," Luhan gasps, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Minseok trails his tongue down the column of Luhan's neck, back up again to place feather light kisses along his jawbone. Then his hands are unbuttoning Luhan's jeans, Luhan's cock half hard as he runs a hand over it. "Everything's still in the bedroom," he mumbles against Luhan's neck as Luhan's hands still his own. "Look at me," Luhan commands, fingers curled around his wrists and voice hoarse with something Minseok can't place. He looks at Luhan, drinks in the sheen of saliva at the corner of his mouth and the way his hair falls into one eye. The bead of sweat that treks a tortuous path down the length of his neck until it disappears under the collar of his shirt. Luhan's eyes practically sparkle. Eyes he’s gazed into a million times, but this time he really looks and it's all almost too much. So he kisses Luhan instead, closing his eyes to something he's not sure he wants to see and letting the heat of Luhan's tongue wipe his mind clean. Luhan's lifting him up and his legs wrap instinctively around Luhan’s waist, like so many times before. They’re stumbling to the bedroom. All heat and tongues and loose limbs. Minseok hasn’t wanted anything this badly in a long time. His back collides against the wall and he lets out a groan, pulling himself tighter against Luhan’s waist. Then they’re both collapsing on the bed. It takes no time at all for Luhan to lift Minseok’s shirt above his head, to pull his athletic shorts down the length of his legs. Warm lips leave a wet trail down Minseok’s abdomen. Minseok runs a hand through Luhan's hair and pulls his face back up towards his. He gets lost in the heat of Luhan's mouth, until Luhan's fingers are around his cock, pumping up and down slowly. It's torture. "More," he moans, throwing his head back into the pillows. Luhan sucks at the crease of his neck, where his shoulder meets. He'll probably have a hickey to hide in the morning. Luhan looks up. "What do you want?" he prompts, voice low and guttural. It sends a shiver down Minseok's body. "Inside of me," Minseok half answers, breathless. He can feel heat bloom across his cheeks. They've done this a thousand times before, figuring out the semantics of who would be doing what, but this time feels different. This time feels like the first time, strange and achingly familiar all at once. It makes Minseok shy and a tiny bit embarrassed. One of Luhan's arms reaches out to fumble in the nightstand drawer, before he pulls out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Then he's getting to work with a fierce look of determination, tearing open the condom package and rolling it onto his own erection, pouring lube onto his fingertips. He's on his knees, one finger slipping into Minseok as his mouth envelopes Minseok's cock. All Minseok can do is groan in pleasure, his own fingers threading through Luhan's hair. It isn't long before Luhan has him open and read, three fingers sliding in and out as Luhan's mouth works steadily at his cock. He stops sometimes, to pepper kisses along Minseok's thigh with something akin to religious fervor. Then he's inside Minseok, and everything feels full and whole and right. Luhan thrusts slowly at first, grinding into him in just the way Minseok likes, hitting that special sweet spot. His hands run up Luhan's sides, his mouth leaves little biting nips at his arms. Luhan's pace increases, and Minseok whines from beneath him. He slips a hand around his cock and pumps; Luhan leans his head down and kisses him, hands on either side of his head. They both come in tandem, Luhan pulling out and flopping down beside him. Minseok can barely open his eyes, thoroughly spent. Luhan's hand is trailing across Minseok’s chest and Luhan buries his face in the crook of his neck. Minseok can't tell if Luhan's shaky breathes are from exhaustion or tears, so he just slips an arm around his shoulders and holds him closer before letting himself slip into sleep. Minseok opens his eyes and there’s a knot in his neck. Luhan is curled into his side, hand splayed over his heart, their legs looped together. His whole body still aches with satisfaction. Luhan stirs beside him, limbs stretching out like a cat. “Hi,” his voice is soft, so soft. Twinged with sleep and affection. Maybe it’s the warmth of the sun peeking through the window blinds, or the heat of Luhan’s body on his, but Minseok thinks he could stay like this forever. “Hi.” The smile that breaks across Luhan’s face shines bright and blinding. His hand comes up to curl around Minseok’s neck, and he peppers kisses along his jawline. “Love you,” Luhan mumbles in his ear. Then everything slams down at once. This is… bad. Worse than bad. They can’t afford a momentary lapse of judgment like this. Not when everything between them hangs by a thin thread. Not when the lines they’ve drawn in the sand are already crooked and blurred. Minseok stiffens under his touch. “This was an accident. It can’t happen again.” The hurt that crosses Luhan’s face is enough to knock the air out of Minseok’s lungs. “How could I be so fucking stupid?” is all Luhan manages to choke out before gathering his clothes and slamming the bedroom door shut. Two days later Minseok receives a text message, meet at our usual spot? we need to talk. 12:30 ok? It’s like his stomach drops down through the floor. He figured Luhan would come back when he was a ready, after a few days of moping around Yixing and Jongdae’s apartment. But this sounds so ominous. A declaration of war on neutral territory. see you there, he replies. When he walks into the cafe - the one they used to frequent for Sunday morning breakfasts - he catches sight of Luhan sitting at their usual table. The sun shines brightly through the window, picking up the reddish hues in Luhan’s hair. There’s already a mug placed in front of the seat across from him. “Hey,” Minseok greets, slipping into the chair. “I didn’t expect you to beat me here.” “I was in the area already,” Luhan explains away with a wave of his hand, tone flat. He doesn’t crack a smile at Minseok’s slight dig. “I ordered your usual. I hope that’s okay.” “Yeah, thank you.” Minseok takes a sip from the mug, steam rising up a bit of his nose. “So what’s up?” Luhan fiddles with the handle of his mug. He can’t seem to meet Minseok’s eyes. “I think I need to move out.” Minseok doesn’t know what to say. “Is this about what happened the other day? I mean, I know it wasn’t exactly the best idea, but you don’t have to move out over it.” Luhan shifts in his seat and starts running his fingers through his hair. Minseok tries to tamp down the annoyance climbing up his throat. Luhan’s tendency to turn into a squirming child at the first sign of confrontation does nothing but test his patience. “I think...I think it’s for the best, at this point,” Luhan takes a deep breath and looks up to meet Minseok’s eyes. "We can't keep doing this." “Doing what?” Anger flashes in Luhan’s eyes, “Pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. We need space to figure things out.” “Then where are you going to go?” Minseok’s jaw tightens. “Junmyeon’s, I think. He has a spare bedroom. He’s gonna let me crash there until I can find a place of my own.” Minseok’s heart beats faster, a coil of anger unfurls in his chest. The air is too heavy, thick. He can’t breathe. Everything is hazy and wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna run away?” Something tells Minseok to stop, to not go any further. But it feels so satisfying, like picking at an old scab until it bleeds. “If you want to leave, fine. Thank you for making me realize I made exactly the right choice. You know when we got married I wanted a husband, not a child.” Luhan’s face goes white, and he stills in his seat. His lip trembles, just slightly, but it’s enough to banish the feeling of triumph coursing through Minseok’s veins. “So there it is. How you really feel, huh,” Luhan laughs, but it’s bitter and cold and broken, so different from the giggles and laughter that had once made sunflowers bloom in Minseok’s chest. He pushes his chair back, and the scrape of metal on wood inflames some sort of desperation in Minseok. “Wait.” This feels like a goodbye, but it’s all wrong. It’s not supposed to happen like this. Luhan stands up, face soft with regret and pity. “I’ll have my stuff out by tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to be aburden on you any longer.” He doesn’t wait for Minseok’s response, just gathers up his jacket and walks away. They hadn’t fought like this in so long. Minseok flinging subtle jabs and insults, poking at old bruises hiding just beneath Luhan’s skin. The worst part is he doesn’t even know why he does it. Sure, there’s that small moment of feeling like he’s won the battle - to hurt before being hurt. But it’s always gone so quickly. Replaced with a crippling sense of guilt that lingers far longer than any feeling of victory. He can fix this, though. When he gets back to the apartment he’ll apologize, let Luhan know that he didn’t mean what he said. It was just irrational anger talking. He’ll give him some time to cool down first. There’s no point in having another fight. A few hours later Minseok walks into their apartment. Luhan's things are gone. Only dozens of photos filled with happy smiles stare back, mocking him from their frames. Ever since that summer ten years ago, when Luhan sat in the passenger seat of his car and he felt like he had found something he hadn’t even known was missing, they hadn’t spent more than a couple of days without talking to each other. But it’s been weeks now since Luhan moved out of the apartment, and he still won't return any of Minseok’s calls, texts, or e-mails. Sitting on Yixing and Jongdae’s couch, he can’t help the curiosity gnawing at his gut. “So... how is he?” Minseok asks. “Luhan, I mean.” He sees the flash of pity in Jongdae’s eyes, the way Yixing silently walks into the kitchen. He must reek of desperation. “He’s... um, good.” Jongdae picks at the label on his bottle of beer, rolling pieces of soggy paper between his fingers. Minseok leans back on the couch, relaxes into the cushions. There’s something Jongdae isn’t saying, but would it be worth it to pry? Or would it just hurt more? Staring at the ceiling, saying nothing, seems like the best option. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you this because I think you two should just stop fighting or whatever and talk to each other, but... He’s in Beijing right now.” Pause. “With Junmyeon.” Suddenly the room is spinning, and Minseok’s entire body stiffens. Maybe staying completely still will somehow make Jongdae’s words untrue, the sting of tears behind his eyelids evaporate. Maybe, just maybe, if he’s still enough, when he opens his eyes Luhan will be walking out of the kitchen, deranged laughter and wedding ring glinting in the light. Jongdae’s eyes, wrinkled in concern, are what greet Minseok when he finally pulls his head off the back of the couch. Suddenly the beer in his hand isn’t enough. The condensation rolling over his fingers feels warm and slimy, and the walls of the apartment too cramped and cluttered. "Let's get out of here," Minseok says, standing up from the couch. His legs tremble. “We’re too young to be laying around like this on a Saturday night, right?” He tries to smile, but it feels all wrong. Too wide and gummy to be real. “Okay hyung," Yixing agrees, glancing at Jongdae with a tiny shrug. Jongdae nods his head, "Lead the way." "Perfect!" He slings an arm around Jongdae's and Yixing's necks and pulls them closer. “I knew I could count on you guys.” Minseok leads them to some new club opening, and gets all three of them inside without having to wait in the massive queue outside of the door. Sometimes it pays off to work at one of Seoul's top marketing firms. Sweat, alcohol, and the acrid smell of smoke hits his nose as soon as he walks in. People are packed onto the dance floor, bodies writhing against each other, and waitresses flit around with bottle service to tables scattered around the perimeter of the dance floor. Crowded, noisy, anonymous - it's everything Minseok was hoping it would be. He needs a vacation from himself tonight. Slip into the skin of some stranger. "C'mon," he gestures towards the bar, "shots are on me." Everything is spinning and he swears Yixing doesn't have a twin, but there are two of them in front of him. It looks like they're wagging their fingers at him. Uh-oh, that can't be good. He must have done something bad, but he can't remember what. His nose tickles, the ground is moving, and he doesn't feel good. "I'm...I don't...," he can't get the words out. There's a warm hand on his back, Yixing's hand, methodically rubbing circles. It reminds him to breathe. "I miss Luhan." Yixing's hand stills. "He'll be back soon. Then you guys can talk. I'm sure he misses you, too." His voice is soft in Minseok's ear; it soothes like a balm. "I love him." The words tumble out easily now, like he's finally made a hole in the damn and it can't be patched up. "But I'm terrible and awful and he deserves better than me." "You are not terrible and awful, hyung," Yixing says, lifting his chin up with his fingers. "Don’t think of yourself like that." He clings onto Yixing like a life jacket, his face buried in the crook of his neck. A burning sensation pricks behind his eyelids, but he can't cry. Nothing comes out. “I made a big mistake,” he mumbles into the skin of Yixing’s neck. Where’s Jongdae? He was right after all. Laughter bubbles behind his throat. “I’m so dumb.” He’s laughing and laughing and then the world goes dark. His mouth is dry, his head pounds, the couch cushions feel hard and flat beneath his back, but worst of all he can barely remember anything about last night. "You awake, Sleeping Beauty?" Jongdae's voice cuts through Minseok's haze like a knife. He's sitting on the coffee table, one leg crossed over the other, wry smile on his face. "I have no idea what happened last night." "That doesn't surprise me. You were pretty hammered." Minseok groans. "What did I do exactly? Was I terrible?" "You didn't like get into a fist fight or anything," Jongdae reassures. "But you did say some things that I think we should talk about." "Do we have to?" "Yes, we have to." Jongdae shakes his head, just the tiniest bit exasperated. Minseok tries to school his face into something pitiful. Maybe Jongdae will feel sorry for him and let it go. "Don't give me that face. Other people might fall for those cute charms, but I'm immune." "Ugh, fine," Minseok gives up. He sits up and wraps the blanket lying across his legs over his shoulders. If Jongdae really wants to talk about whatever this is so badly, then he can be mature about it. He is the hyung after all. "Well, spit it out." "All you could talk about last night was how much you miss Luhan and what a big mistake you made." Minseok doesn't know what to say. He's not surprised. The guilt and regret have been bubbling in his gut for months now, if he's being honest with himself. “Well, that’s something I’m just going to have to live with.” Jongdae narrows his eyes. “Why the hell are you so stubborn? Would it kill you to admit that maybe you were wrong?” “I didn’t make a mistake, Jongdae-yah.” “Hyung!” Jongdae whines. Frustration starts to creep into his voice. “All you could talk about was how much you wished you could take everything back. Why are you making things more difficult? I don’t get you.” Minseok keeps his voice calm and level. “I was drunk. Wasted, to be more exact. I don’t think you should take anything I said last night that seriously. That’s all.” “Luhan still loves you. He’d get back together if that’s what you wanted. He basically told Yixing and I as much.” Jongdae leans back a bit, and crosses his arms across his chest. “Even after you were an asshole and messed with his head.” Minseok scoffs. "That's exactly why we can't get back together. Don't you get it?" "Get what?" "I know that Luhan loves me. Loves me too much, and it makes me feel guilty and awful." Jongdae's face softens, like he’s finally sort of starting to understand. "He deserves better than me. Better than what I can give him." Minseok rings his fingers a bit. "So this divorce? It is for the best, really." "Fine, I'll drop it," Jongdae concedes. "I still don't like it... but I'll drop it." "Thank you." Minseok leans back against the couch. "Now what about breakfast?" A light knock on his office door breaks Minseok’s concentration. Looking up from his computer screen, he sees Heeyeon standing in the doorway, a paper coffee cup in each hand. “What brings you here?” Minseok asks as she walks into the room, her heels clacking against the tile floor. “And with a gift?” “Oh, just stopping by to say hello to my favorite boss.” She smiles and sits in the chair opposite of Minseok. “What do you need, Heeyeon-ah?” “I don’t need anything. Can’t I just say hi? See how you’re doing?” Minseok stacks some papers on his desk. “I don’t get why everyone is so worried about me.” “Because we all love you, and want you to be happy.” Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, Heeyeon gives a little shrug. “Well, I'm perfectly fine." “You're not,” Heeyeon states matter-of-factly before sliding the cup of coffee across Minseok’s desk. “What you need to do is get back on the horse. I mean, I know it sucks -” “It really does,” Minseok interrupts, slumping down in his seat. "Okay, maybe I'm a little not fine." Heeyeon rolls her eyes and sighs, “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I know it sucks. But Luhan’s obviously moving on and making the best of things, so you should too.” “What if I don’t want to?” He knows he sounds like a petulant child, but he doesn’t care. “Then you’ll probably be alone for the rest of forever.” “Can’t I just date you?” Minseok tears at the plastic cover of his take-out coffee. Heeyeon would be nice to date. Practical, but fun and very pretty. She snorts and takes a sip of her coffee. “Tough luck dude, but my girlfriend would probably have a few things to say about that. I have, however, gotten some word about a prospective beau floating around our very own office.” His ears perk up at that. Who could it possibly be? He can count on his hand the number of people who even know about the divorce at all. “Yeah, who?” “Soonkyu, in accounting.” “The little tiny one? With the lips?” “That’s the one, my friend.” He’s surprised. “Really?” “She was asking about you when I went down to their floor the other day. Said she heard about the divorce ‘through the grapevine’ and was wondering how you were doing,” Heeyeon continues. Minseok scoffs, “That’s hardly evidence that she wants to get in my pants.” “Are you kidding? It’s clear code for ‘your friend is hot and I want to bone him’. She was just trying to be, you know, polite about it.” “So you think I should ask her out? God, I haven’t asked someone out since, like, college. I don’t think I would even know how.” Heeyeon laughs, “It’s not that hard, doofus. You go down to her office and ask her if she wants to grab dinner sometime. Or like, lunch, if you want to keep it casual. Drinks, if you want to get it in.” She winks. “I’ll think about it. How about that?” Minseok relents. Heeyeon nods, “I’ll take what I can get.” She stands up to smooth out her skirt and takes a peek at the clock.” Anyway, I should probably go do something productive before I get yelled at.” “Hey now, you’re fixing my love life. That’s productive,” Minseok counters. “Only if you actually listen to me. Remember, the horse!” With that Heeyeon walks out of his office and back down the hall. Minseok takes a second to take it all in. Soonkyu is pretty, and always has a nice word to say when they bump into each other in the hallways over the years. What could it hurt to go on one date? Just to see? Heeyeon’s right. Luhan’s moved on; he has Junmyeon. Minseok might hate himself for how things turned out, but it’s no reason for self-imposed celibacy. After lunch, he walks down to accounting. “I still can’t believe you were right,” Minseok complains, ruffling through the clothes in his closet. He has no idea what to wear. He doesn’t want to be overdressed, but too casual won’t be good either. Heeyeon curls up on the bed, watches Minseok like a cat. “Of course I was right.” “Well help me pick out something to wear then?” he asks, spinning around with his hands crossed over his chest. “You want to take fashion advice from me? Are you sure about that?” She’s got a point. Baggy jean overalls and a paint splattered t-shirt don’t exactly scream high fashion, even if she is pretty enough to pull it off. Minseok pouts. “You’re no help.” “If you wanted help picking out an outfit you should have invited Zitao over, not me. You know he would have had you walking out of here looking like a Gucci model.” “Ugh.” Heeyeon hops off the bed to stand next to Minseok at the front of his closet, her bare toes digging into the carpet. “Jeans and a button down,” she says after a moment, pulling out a pair of dark jeans and a plain white shirt. “It’s classic, right? Then roll the sleeves up a bit. Girls love that shit.” “Not bad, Heeyeon-ah,” Minseok agrees. He takes the hangers from her hands. “Now scram so I can get dressed.” “Ay, ay Captain!” she salutes, laughing. But then her face grows serious and she squeezes at his elbow. “Good luck tonight, and text me how it went. Ok?” Minseok nods in agreement, lips falling into a smile. He’s rushing out the door an hour later. Hopefully he can still make it on time. Maybe he shouldn’t have spent so long messing with his hair. Soonkyu is sitting at the bar when he walks into the restaurant, one slim leg crossed over the other, short dark hair tucked behind one ear, and red dress showing off her bodyline. This date obviously means something to her, but Minseok can’t seem to muster up much more than polite apathy as he walks towards her. That same feeling of polite apathy lingers throughout their dinner together. It's not Soonkyu's fault. She's pretty and funny, with a dry biting wit that Minseok genuinely enjoys. But there are no butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, or even the barest hint of a spark igniting between them. So at the end of the night Minseok kisses her cheek and tells her, "I'm sorry. I thought I was ready, but maybe I was wrong." Soonkyu just smiles. "I figured as much. Maybe we can be friends?" He thinks that would be nice. Staring up at the ceiling hours later, there’s only one person Minseok wants to talk to. He misses having a best friend. Someone to whisper to at three in the morning, someone to joke with, someone who knows him like the back of their hand. He misses Luhan. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s got his phone in his face, fingers typing rapidly along the keyboard. i miss you He hits send before he can stop himself. His phone buzzes a few seconds later. i miss you too. all the time It shouldn’t make his heart swell up like this, beating so hard he thinks his chest will crack open. He types out another message. can we be friends again? i’d like that a lot me too It’s so easy to fall back into a friendship with Luhan. They have clear boundaries now, mostly involving not touching each other. No hands clasped around a shoulder or a gentle squeeze of the elbow, but sometimes a hug is okay. It seems dumb, but it’s a good rule, makes Minseok forget how Luhan feels beneath his fingers. Makes Luhan feel less like his, still. Because Luhan isn’t his anymore. They’ve started a new ritual. After one of Minseok’s disastrous dates, they’ll get together to do something fun. Coffee the morning after a drunken night with some guy named Baekhyun, who had ditched him halfway through their date to flirt with a bartender. It had reminded Minseok how much he enjoyed Luhan's laid back demeanor, their ability to hold endless conversations. Then there had been Yifan, a friend of Yixing’s from university, and while he was very sweet and earnest, he was much too tall and obsessed with the mysteries of space. Minseok had insisted they go play a quick soccer match in the park after that one, and he couldn't tell if he was out of breathe because of the physical exertion or the way the sun hit Luhan's hair. The aquarium after Sunyoung, whom he sort of actually liked, told him that she couldn't see them being anything more than friends. Luhan's dolphin imitations made him feel a whole lot better that day. "This is a monumentally bad idea," Heeyeon had said when she found out what was going on. "You're basically going on shitty dates so you can go on real dates with Luhan after." "That's not true," Minseok had insisted. Heeyeon had only rolled her eyes. "Just remember when this implodes, I get to say I told you so." Maybe Heeyeon is sort of right, because when he finds Luhan loitering around the front door of the apartment a few afternoons later, his stomach starts to somersault. "Hi," Minseok says. Luhan startles at the greeting and stops pacing. There are worry lines etched deep into his forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't call or anything. I just... I really need to talk to you." "Is everything okay?" Minseok asks, punching in the code to the front door. He holds open the door to let Luhan inside. "Junmyeon got a job offer in Beijing. He wants me to move with him." Minseok struggles to hold on to the bag of groceries in his hand. He knew this would happen one day. Luhan would move out of the apartment they shared for years, he'd find someone new to love and build a life with. But there was no pain in abstract thoughts of the future, no planning on Luhan wanting to go back home. Reality feels like getting rammed by a bus. Silence stretches out between them as he walks into the kitchen, places the bag on the countertop. He hears Luhan's footsteps follow him. "That's great," he says, plastering on a fake smile before he turns around. He's certain Luhan can see right through it. "It is?" Luhan looks small, hunched over the edge of the counter. The way his eyelids keep blinking and his fingers play at a patch of hair, makes Minseok want to gather him in his arms. But he can't. No touching, that's the rule. "Do you want to?" he asks instead. Luhan chews at his bottom lip. "What if we're going too fast?" "You guys have been dating for a while, and you'd be near your parents again. It seems like a win-win situation to me." "Then what if I screw it all up?" Luhan insists, like he's looking for Minseok to give him a reason to say no, to stay in Seoul. The selfish part of Minseok, the part that longs to steal Luhan back into his apartment, his bed, his life, rears it’s head. This is his chance. Luhan is practically begging to be given a reason to stay here, with him. "You wouldn't," Minseok says. He steps closer to where Luhan stands, leaning on the counter next to him. "But if I don't say this now, then I'd be the one screwing it up." Luhan's eyebrows furrow. "What?" "I made a huge mistake. I was stupid and careless with our relationship, with you." Minseok takes a deep breathe. "I know I don't deserve another chance, but if there's any part of you that doesn't want to go back to Beijing because of me... Shouldn't we give us another shot?" Now Luhan looks like the one that's been slammed into by a speeding bus. Silence spreads out like an eternity, but Minseok surmises that it can't be more than a dozen seconds. "I need to go out and-and think," Luhan stutters. Not exactly the answer he was expecting. But then again he did sort of just spring this on Luhan seemingly out of the blue. "I'll be here whenever you're ready," he supplies. Luhan nods and then he's out the door. Hours have passed now and Minseok is starting to get a little worried. He hasn't gotten a phone call or text message or anything else from Luhan in all the time that he's been gone. Even playing some mindless cell phone game can't keep the anxiety from nipping at his stomach. Just then Minseok hears the telltale click of the front door passcode. "Luhan?" he calls out. "Hi," Luhan answers, slipping his shoes off at the front entrance. Minseok grins, soft. "Hey." Luhan crosses the room to the couch and sits down. He leaves an ocean of space between them. "I thought about what you said." "Okay." "I have one question that I really need to ask you first." Minseok nods an "okay" again. Something niggles at the base of his neck, like this isn't going to go the way he thought it would. "Did you ever love me?" There's a million things Minseok wants to say: I loved you then and I love you now, and I just forgot for a while but I remember, and nothing, not one single thing in this whole world, feels right without you. But the words stay stuck and jumbled in Minseok's throat. The seconds pass by with heavy silence, and he sees the hopeful glint in Luhan's eyes fade away, replaced by something harder, a steely resolve. This... this feels like a goodbye. Something they can't take back. They can't recover from. "I'm dating Junmyeon. He's sweet and kind, and I'm trying very hard to be happy." Minseok moves in closer, reaches out a hand. But Luhan shifts away and crosses his arms over his chest. The rejection stings. "I haven't been happy in a long time," Luhan looks up from the ground and catches Minseok's eyes. "I just..." his voice cracks, "I want to be happy." Minseok reaches out again, to try and wipe away the tear that managed to escape and leave a trail down one cheek. Luhan beats him to it, scrubs furiously at his face and laughs hollowly. It's like Luhan has spent so much time drowning in Minseok and finally found his footing again; treading above water, only to reach the shore. But now Minseok is the one drowning, the walls closing in, the breath escaping his body. Suddenly Luhan is so far ahead that Minseok can’t see him anymore. “I want that for you.” Minseok’s voice is small and hoarse, like it’s being pulled out into the open against his will. "Thank you." Luhan gets up. "Thank you for telling me what I needed to hear." And then he's gone. Minseok and Yixing sit on the roof of the apartment building. After Luhan had left, he cried. Long, hard, racking sobs that had left him shaking. When he couldn't cry anymore, and the silence of the apartment threatened to suffocate him, he called Yixing. They had made their way to the roof, where the stars glowed like faint pinpricks above the lights of the city. Yixing listened as Minseok told him what had happened earlier, the type of calm and steady presence Minseok desperately needed. “I’m scared,” Minseok admits. His voice sounds small to his ears, uncertain and a little sad. He doesn't know what a life without Luhan is. Yixing slips an arm around Minseok's shoulder and squeezes. The sun has started to rise, and everything is bathed in a pretty purple glow, pinks giving way to a cloudless blue sky. "I spent all this time convincing myself that Luhan was the problem. That I loved him but I wasn’t in love with him anymore. But it was me after all. I’m the one who ruined us.” “Hyung…” Minseok doesn’t turn away from staring at the skyline, eyes fixed on the buildings in the distance. The city hasn’t woken up yet. Everything is quiet. Peaceful. Minseok takes a deep breathe. "He deserves to be happy. I want him to be happy." The words are true. He hated the year they spent bickering and arguing, picking at scabs that never healed. He could hear Luhan cry sometimes, behind closed doors. Then the anger would climb up and stick to the sides of his ribcage. Anger at Luhan and guilt at himself, festering into something cold and dark and hard. “What if you can make him happy?” "I don’t think that’s possible. Not anymore. I mean, what does it say about me that the first time things got hard, I ran away?" “That you’re human?” Yixing turns his head and his chin digs into Minseok’s shoulder. “He still loves you.” Minseok knows that already, and it haunts him. “You can be in love with someone who doesn’t make you happy.” “What?” Minseok can hear the confusion in Yixing’s voice, like he could never comprehend a love like that. “Luhan might love me, but I don’t make him happy.” He tears his eyes away from the empty city streets to look at Yixing. “Junmyeon does, though. That’s what’s important.” “So you’re just going to give up?” Yixing’s voice is as soft as it ever is, but there’s a hard edge to it now. The hint of a challenge. Minseok shakes his head, and turns to gaze back out. The city is just starting to wake up. In a few hours there will be people and noise to fill in the empty streets. “It’s not giving up, Yixing-ah. It’s letting go.” They used to joke about Yixing and Jongdae getting married, and here they are at their engagement party. Huge parties like this used to be easier, with Luhan solid and dependable by his side. But now Luhan’s gone and he’s on his own. Small and quiet and incomplete. Minseok stops and smiles for polite conversation with a handful of Jongdae’s more distant relatives, and a few colleagues of Yixing's who work at the gallery. Then he catches sight of them from across the room, Luhan and Junmyeon. They look so… happy. Junmyeon glances up at Luhan, and Minseok feels like he’s intruding on something private, something he shouldn’t be seeing. Because Junmyeon looks so soft and adoring and utterly in love, that Minseok’s stomach twists. Luhan smooths down his lapel and Minseok can feel the ghost of his fingertips on his own neck. Minseok gulps down the rest of his champagne. But Luhan is smiling, a real smile, where his whole face crinkles up and turns into a wrinkly mess. The sight nearly knocks the breath from him. It has been too long since Minseok has seen that smile. Just like that the anger evaporates, leaving only an aching sadness that Minseok can’t seem to get rid of it. It’s buried itself in his heart. Jongdae taps on an empty glass, the clear chime catching everyone's attention. Yixing stands next to him. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, I first want to say thank you for joining me and my handsome fiancé tonight. We really appreciate it." At Jongdae's words Yixing turns an impressive shade of scarlet. "But what I would really appreciate right now, is one of my closest friends and best man to give a moving and heartfelt speech showering us in love. Kim Minseok, get your butt over here!" Well, Jongdae is definitely drunk. But now everybody is looking at him expectantly. So he makes his way through the crowd, before taking the microphone from Jongdae and getting an apologetic look from Yixing. “I should probably save something this brilliant for the actual wedding toast, but what can I say? I’m feeling generous tonight.” Minseok chuckles, relieved to hear the rest of the audience titter along. "Luhan and I used to take bets in college on how long it would take these two crazy kids to tie the knot. Needless to say, it's taken much too long. We both lost." The crowd laughs. "But I can't think of any two people more perfect for each other. They're not just lovers, they're best friends, and that is a rare and beautiful thing. Cherish that. Protect that." “Wake up every day and make the conscious choice to love each other. It's not always going to be the easy choice to make. Some days you aren't going to love each other. Sometimes you’re going to want to throw in the towel, give it all up, and walk way. But don’t. Choose each other. Everyday. Because it’s worth it.” He’s not talking about Yixing and Jongdae anymore. He glances out at the crowd to catch sight of Luhan, hand clasped tight in Junmyeon’s. He hopes he understands. I’m sorry I gave up on us. I’m so sorry. He turns back towards Jongdae and Yixing. “But I have faith in you both. To the lovely couple and two of my greatest friends, cheers.” He raises his glass up with a tip of his head, and the sound of polite applause fills the room. “So, nice speech,” Luhan says. Minseok reaches for a glass of champagne as a waiter walks by. "Thanks." "Listen-" "No," Minseok cuts him off, with a hand to his forearm. "That speech? I meant every word." Luhan doesn't say anything. All he can do is gaze into Minseok's eyes. This time Minseok doesn't try to hide. "Thank you." "So," Minseok starts, "How about these crab things. Good, huh?" A confused look crosses Luhan's face for a moment before he laughs, loud and bright. A small part of his heart rests in ease at the fact that despite everything, Luhan can still find laughter and humor in the most insignificant moments. "What's so funny?" Junmyeon asks, coming up to stand beside them. Luhan's still giggling to himself, so Minseok waves a hand away. "Nothing, really. It's good to see you Junmyeon-ssi." The pair exchange slight bows. "Same Minseok-ssi. How have you been?" "Oh you know, can't really complain," He takes another sip from his champagne glass. "I hear you guys are making the big move soon. Are you excited?" "Yes," Junmyeon says, clasping Luhan's hand, "I think it's going to be really good for us." There's that look again, the one of naked adoration aimed squarely at Luhan. Only it's not just Junmyeon who looks so obviously smitten. This time Minseok can see Luhan's face too, and even though it's not quite as adoring, it is soft and warm and fond. For a split second Minseok wonders if he had ever looked at Luhan that way. He hopes he did. Even if it was only once. Luhan deserved that much. November, 2021 Yixing and Jongdae put their heads together and pouted extra hard when they whined “please” in unison. How could someone say no to them squished together like that, giving their best adorable baby animal faces? That’s how Minseok ends up standing at the airport baggage claim at an ungodly hour in the morning. He figures it’s the least he can do, with both Yixing and Jongdae playing referee for a bunch of out of town family members. And it’ll be nice to catch up with Luhan alone before they’re both thrust into last minute wedding preparations. If nothing else they’ll both have breakups to commiserate over. Minseok’s hands sweat as he grips the sign he’s holding. On it, Luhan’s name sparkles with glitter paint and soccer ball stickers. Minseok hopes he’ll laugh when he sees it. Passengers start to trickle out, to fill the walls with the sounds of loved ones reuniting - shrieks of laughter and kisses on cheeks and a chorus of happy greetings. Minseok cranes his neck, trying to look through the crowd. A minute passes before he spots Luhan walking out, looking rumpled in track pants and a beanie. He lifts the sign above his head and waves. Luhan laughs when he catches sight of it, deep and loud, jaw nearly unhinged. “Hey stranger,” Minseok smiles. It’s almost like he’s seeing Luhan for the first time. Maybe he is. They’re both so different from who they used to be: older and wiser and grown up. Little fine lines have settled around Luhan’s eyes. Butterflies flutter up around Minseok’s ribcage. There it is. That warm glow and hazy spark between them, as it’s always been. “Long time no see.” Minseok thinks Luhan feels it too.

I don’t see this going anywhere. The words replay themselves in Junmyeon’s head all morning. Around and around like a carousel he can't stop. He had met Yixing two months ago, at a work fundraiser. He was charming, with his messy Korean and deep dimples that popped up whenever he smiled. They shared an interest in art and pleasant conversation; things between them were simple and easy. Yes, Yixing didn’t make his heart flip-flop, or his knees go weak. But he was solidly dependable (even with a forgetful streak a mile-long), and for a time Junmyeon thought this could really be something. So when Yixing had looked serious across the table at their dinner the night before, brows knitted and lips set in a thin line, Junmyeon’s stomach sank. Some part of him knew what Yixing was going to say before he said it, and he braced himself for the actual words. When they came, it hurt, like the dull ache of a wound that’s been opened too many times. Even with Yixing’s sweet words and genuine sincerity, to Junmyeon it all sounded like the same thing. You aren’t good enough. The part that saddened Junmyeon the most, as he lay in bed hours later, was how unsurprised he was by all of this. Jongdae had been ribbing him all week, claiming that Yixing was finally going to make their relationship exclusive and that Junmyeon just had to bring him to his gig this weekend. “It could be a celebration!”, he had said while elbowing Junmyeon painfully in the ribs. But something deep in Junmyeon’s gut told him that Jongdae was wrong, and he was proven right. He sits in his office the next morning, door closed, so he can sulk and obsess over what was so wrong with him that he can't make a relationship work. Because if anything is obvious to Junmyeon it was the fact that the problem had to be him. There is no way that it just so happens to be a coincidence that all of his non-relationships happen to end in the same way. That once the superficial is stripped away and it's time to really get to know each other, it's so easy to walk away from him. Maybe he should just give up and buy a cat already. At least the cat would love- "Junmyeon hyung!" Jongdae calls out, interrupting Junmyeon’s thoughts as he opens Junmyeon’s office door. He bounds over, much too peppy for a late Friday morning. "Jongdae-yah," Junmyeon starts, "isn't there some work for you to be attending to?" Jongdae scoffs before hopping up to sit at the edge of Junmyeon’s desk, practically draping himself over the top of Junmyeon's computer monitor. "Who cares hyung, it's Friday. Plus it’s almost lunch and you promised you’d treat me, remember?" Junmyeon rolls his eyes and starts clearing up papers on his desk, anything to avoid eye contact with an expectant Jongdae. Most of his morning energy had been devoted to thinking of a proper excuse to get out of having lunch so he could avoid the inevitable awkward conversation, and Junmyeon knows that one look at Jongdae’s crinkled eye-smile is enough to make any excuse he could come up with a moot point. “Hyunggg!” Actually on second thought, maybe better to give up and give in. Anything to stop Jongdae’s incessant whining. Even if it was sort of cute. “Of course I remember,” Junmyeon looks up to meet Jongdae’s eyes and forces the corners of his mouth into a smile. “Just let me finish getting this stuff organized for the afternoon?” Jongdae beams as he jumps down from his perch on Junmyeon’s desk, happy to have gotten exactly what he wanted. As usual. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes. Be there or be square!” Jongdae laughs to himself as he walks towards the door of Junmyeon’s office, but before closing the door he whips back around. “I’m serious, in ten minutes.” Junmyeon waves a hand. “Of course, I’ll see you in ten minutes.” He does, walking into the building lobby to find Jongdae leaning against a window and scrolling through his phone. The walk to the their favorite cafe a few blocks away is pleasant and comfortable, echoes the bright sunlight and soft spring breeze. “So, how was your hot date last night?” Jongdae asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Junmyeon shoves a bit of salad into his mouth and shrugs. “Fine,” he mumbles around his food, hopeful it’ll be enough of an answer to satisfy Jongdae. “Good, it’s been like two months and I still haven’t met the guy.” Jongdae dips some french fries into the glob of ketchup at the side of his plate. “You’re gonna bring him to my gig tonight right?” Shit. “Actually, Yixing isn’t coming.” Junmyeon picks around his salad a bit more. He knows if he looks up all he’ll see is Jongdae’s eyes, soft and sad, and he really doesn’t want to cry in the middle of the cafe. It’s embarrassing. A beat of silence passes before Jongdae speaks, "But you're still coming right?" Junmyeon looks up in surprise. Jongdae is smiling his sly cat smile, the one where his lips curl up at the edges mischievously, not a hint of pity on his face. Junmyeon lets out a breath he didn’t realize was holding, so relieved he starts laughing. "You are absolutely shameless." "I know!” Jongdae reaches his hand across the table and gives Junmyeon a brief pat on the arm. “But hyung, if you wanna talk about it, you can. I'll listen." The thing is, Junmyeon isn't sure he does want to talk about it. What is there to say about another failed relationship? It’s strange, how you could put everything you have into another person and in the end it’s still not enough to keep them from walking away. Or maybe it’s just him, Junmyeon thinks. He isn’t enough. "We decided to stop seeing each other now, before things got serious. It was mutual. Not a big deal, you know?" Junmyeon can taste the lie on his tongue, the metallic bitterness it leaves in his mouth. The smile he shoots Jongdae from across the table is all wrong too, terse and stiff. A moment of silence passes, an excruciating moment where all Junmyeon can think about is how Jongdae can see right through him, but it passes. “Do you think Liyin noona will come if I asked her?” His shoulders relax, and Junmyeon settles into enjoying his salad, letting Jongdae’s chatter drain the tension from his body. A few drinks later and Junmyeon feels good: loose limbed, the music from Jongdae’s band thumping through his body. He likes watching Jongdae work the stage, throwing himself into the music. He stalks around with a lithe energy that draws you in and hypnotizes. The girls crowded around seem to like it too. They clamor around the stage trying to get closer. Junmyeon sips the last dregs of his glass and decides he could do with another drink, so he turns around to make his way out of the crowd and back towards the bar. He bumps into another man on the way there. Someone just a bit taller than him, wearing a bright blue jacket. But when he throws out an arm to steady himself and apologize, the stranger has already slipped away. He spots him again, after a quick scan of the mass of people hovering near the bar, ordering drinks. Junmyeon watches as the stranger glances around before reaching over the bar top. He sneaks a hand down towards the bottom shelf, and pulls a half empty bottle of tequila out from underneath. They lock eyes and the stranger lifts a finger to his lips, smiles cheekily, and winks. All without getting caught by the bartenders, who are too busy trying to keep up with drink orders. The stranger turns and starts walking casually away from the scene of the crime, no one around him any the wiser of what he’s done. Suddenly Junmyeon is gripped by curiosity at someone so brazen, and maybe a little reckless. So he decides to follow this stranger, weaving in and out of the people who crowd around him. The stranger looks a little lost, holding the tequila bottle close to his side as he bumps into people. Junmyeon finally catches up to him, and places a hand on his shoulder. He whips around, eyes wide. “Oh hello! Do I know you?” “No, I was-” “Ah, yes! You were the guy who caught me right?” The stranger gives Junmyeon’s elbow a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for not saying anything.” “Don’t mention it.” Suddenly he leans in close to Junmyeon, and his pointy chin digs into Junmyeon’s shoulder. “I think I lost my friends,” he whispers in his ear, warm breath ghosting over Junmyeon’s cheek as he pulls away. “I can help you find them?” The stranger locks eyes with Junmyeon, boring into him. He suddenly feels naked, exposed. The stranger smirks. “What do you say about getting outta here instead?” Junmyeon doesn’t know what possesses him to agree, nodding dumbly. Maybe it’s the way his stomach flip-flops when the stranger’s long fingers slip around his wrist. Or the way his heart thumps fast and furious, against the current of the music, when he notices the way the lights catch in his eyes. The stranger intertwines his fingers with Junmyeon's as they begin weaving in and out of the crowd. His palm feels warm against Junmyeon’s skin. Then just as suddenly they’re outside in the alleyway, cool air soothing on Junmyeon’s flushed cheeks. “I'm Baekhyun,” the stranger introduces himself. In the light of the streetlamps, Junmyeon can get a better look at Baekhyun. His hair lays across his forehead, damp with sweat, the purplish sheen vibrant even in the dark. His eyes look sultry, lined in dark coal and heavy lidded. Overall his face is delicate, pretty without being too perfected. “Junmyeon.” Baekhyun smiles, white teeth gleaming. Everything about Baekhyun seems to sparkle or smolder, a collection of light and shadows. “So what should we do on this lovely night, with our pilfered goods?” "I have no clue. I've never been an accomplice to a crime," Junmyeon smiles behind his hand. "I’ll follow your lead." As if on cue, his stomach grumbles loudly. Baekhyun meets his eyes. “I’m hungry?” Junmyeon blurts out, then winces. Smooth. Without the music of the band to drown it out, it’s obvious to Junmyeon that Baekhyun has heard everything. He waits for the inevitable insult, or laughter, breath baited. He feels heat bloom across his cheeks, and he gives a silent prayer of thanks that his face is already flushed from the alcohol. But it never comes. Instead Baekhyun smiles. “A picnic it is then!” he exclaims, looping an arm through Junmyeon’s and pulling him along down the street. They stop at a convenience store and Baekhyun hums as he picks up different items, contemplating. Junmyeon takes the opportunity to grab a box of his favorite cookies, the cartoon pandas on the box grinning at him happily. After a few minutes of wandering, Baekhyun dumps a pile of all sorts of different things -cheeseballs and chocolate bars and chips- on the counter, looking very smug and pleased. When Junmyeon pulls out his credit card to pay for it all, Baekhyun squeals and nuzzles his face in Junmyeon’s arm. It makes Junmyeon laugh, loud and clear, oblivious to whatever the cashier must be thinking of them. Laughter rings through the street as they walk, mixing with the sounds of traffic and the underlying hum of the city. In what feels like no time at all they’ve gotten to a park, racing each other towards to the swings. Junmyeon loses. But he laughs so hard his stomach starts to cramp up, his mouth gaped wide open. "You look like a fish," Baekhyun tells him before dissolving in giggles of his own. They each sit on a swing, passing each other bites of different things and taking turns swigging from the bottle. But most of all they talk. Mostly about silly things: Baekhyun’s strange love of cheeseballs, Junmyeon’s fascination with the possibility of extraterrestrials, their shared disgust of coffee. Everything seems bright and dazzling, but most of all Junmyeon feels free. He doesn’t care if he sounds dumb or silly or lame, isn’t constantly self checking himself against some sort of yardstick of perfect decorum. Sometimes his jokes don’t stick or he trips over his words, but Baekhyun doesn’t care. He just laughs with those clear bright eyes. Later, when they lay in the grass and point out constellations to each other, Junmyeon’s nerves buzzing and the cool grass soothing on the back of his sweaty neck, he thinks it all must be a dream. The next morning Junmyeon wakes up on his couch, early morning sunlight peaking through the blinds. His head feels heavy and his tongue lays dry and cottony in his mouth. He can vaguely remember getting home last night, putting Baekhyun in a cab and catching one of his own after they woke up in the grass, shivering and wet from the morning dew. For a moment he remembers how nice Baekhyun had felt, curled up warm against him. He reaches for his phone, curious about what time it could be, but the battery is dead. Taking it as a sign to get off the couch, Junmyeon rolls over and nearly falls flat on his face, knee bumping into the edge of the coffee table. After a stumble or two he finally makes it to his bedroom; he curses at himself for being so messy, unable to find his phone charger amidst the piles of clothes. As soon as Junmyeon finally puts in his phone to charge, the screen lights up and a dozen dings go off in quick succession. There's at least four phone calls from Jongdae, a handful of text messages, and a voicemail that Junmyeon is sure consists of Jongdae scolding him for running off without saying anything. Before he can do anything, the phone vibrates with a new text message from Jongdae: 30 minutes at our usual spot? breakfast is on me. Junmyeon would mostly like to crawl into his bed, stick his head under the covers, and not come out for about a week, but he can’t say no to one of the rare times Jongdae offers to treat him. He knows somewhere in the back of his mind that it must be a bribe of some sort, but the promise of something that can ease the pounding in his head sounds too good to pass up. He replies with, sure thing, before rifling through the endless piles of clothes littering his floor to search for something clean to wear. “Thank God you’re alive,” Jongdae says as Junmyeon flops down into the seat across from him. There’s already a bowl of haejangguk and a steaming cup of tea on the table. “Barely.” It’s not a lie. Junmyeon pushes his sunglasses up his nose; he’s too afraid to take them off and scare Jongdae away. No amount of showering, aspirin, and water this morning could erase the dark circles under his eyes and the sickly pallor of his skin. He looks as bad as he feels. “So wild child, you gonna tell me how your night was?” Jongdae cocks his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. “You disappeared without a word. I was kind of worried." Junmyeon pushes the haejangguk around his bowl. His stomach churns at the thought of actually eating any. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I feel absolutely terrible today.” “Clearly,” Jongdae answers wryly. “And it does. Make me feel better that is.” Junmyeon sticks his tongue out. “Not nice,” he mutters, before taking a sip of tea. “I never said I was,” Jongdae slurps at his own tea noisily. “Stop trying to avoid the question. You can’t get out of it, I know all your tricks.” A sigh, “Fine. I think I sort of met someone?" "Spill,” Jongdae commands, both eyebrows shooting up in what Junmyeon can only assume is surprise. "That's the thing...there isn’t really anything to tell? All I know is the guy's name." Junmyeon swipes through his phone for a few seconds before he finds what he's looking for: a picture of him and Baekhyun from the night before. Their faces are smooshed together, cheeks pressed tight to fit in the frame. Junmyeon’s face is scrunched up in mid-laughter, while Baekhyun glances at him out of the corner of his eye with a fond smile and an obligatory 'V' sign. It makes something in Junmyeon's heart flutter. He passes the phone to Jongdae. Across the table, Jongdae contemplates the photo for a moment, before nodding his head in approval. "Good work hyung, he's pretty cute. I mean not as cute as me, but decent." "I'm sure I'll never see him again. Probably for the best though, I'm sure I made quite the fool of myself." Junmyeon sighs heavily, while his head pounds behind his eyes. He wishes he was hiding in bed for the rest of the day like he planned, instead of being interrogated by Jongdae. Jongdae studies the photo for a moment, “I don’t know. He looks pretty smitten to me. It’s too bad you didn’t get his number or anything.” “Yeah, it’s too bad.” Junmyeon finds he really means it. 1 Week Later Spring tumbles in full bloom, the trees once again lush and green. It’s Junmyeon’s first time venturing out to his favorite flower market since the season started. He’s missed walking along the rows of fresh cut flowers, picking out whatever seems prettiest to him that week. A secret happiness that no one else can touch, one that’s just for him. Junmyeon is bent over a container of peonies, inhaling their sweet scent, when a voice whispers into his ear. “What a surprise running into you here, Junmyeon-ssi.” He startles, turning his head to the side to see Baekhyun standing next to him. He looks cute dressed in jeans and a thin sweater, the sleeves just long enough for the tips of thin fingers to peak out like a pair of puppy paws. He looks younger too, fresh and barefaced. “It must be fate.” Junmyeon’s face breaks into a grin, eyes crinkling into little crescents. “Care to join me?” Baekhyun’s head tilts slightly to the side before he gives a little nod. The sunlight threads bits of lavender through his hair. “I’d love to.” They walk through the stalls together, pointing out different types of flowers and rattling off their favorites. Junmyeon wonders at the lack of anxiety gripping at his nerves, the way they normally do when he's caught off guard. Instead there's only the soft flutter of butterflies caught in his chest that feel light and bright, like the sun and Baekhyun’s smile. They talk about everything, and nothing at all. When Junmyeon insists on dropping the formalities, Baekhyun shines. Everything is easy and light between them, like that night in the park, and Junmyeon feels happy. “So, what brings you out here all by yourself?” Baekhyun asks. The question takes Junmyeon aback for a moment. It’s not on purpose, but neither of them have been very forthcoming with personal questions. Part of him likes it better this way. Baekhyun doesn’t push to know him in the conventional way, and it puts him at ease. He doesn’t have to hide behind pleasantries and propriety, because there’s no fear of disappointing Baekhyun, of driving him away. Junmyeon’s shoulders feel light without the weight of insecurity dragging them down. “Don’t laugh,” Junmyeon warns. Baekhyun arranges his face seriously, nods once before tracing an ‘X’ over his heart with a long, thin finger. “You have my word.” He leans in a bit closer, “I used to garden with my aunt. The flowers remind me of her.” He can feel the heat climbing up his neck when he straightens back up. Sunlight glints off Baekhyun’s irises. Junmyeon wonders if he was close enough, could he see flecks of amber, warm and gold like honey? “Why would I ever laugh at that,” Baekhyun looks genuinely perplexed, eyebrows knitted together, forming little wrinkles in between his eyebrows. Junmyeon doesn’t quite know the answer himself, just knows that he’s always been too afraid to admit it to anybody else before. In the past, just the thought of mentioning it aloud made his skin crawl, like there was an itch just beneath the surface. Like he would do anything to wriggle and escape out of his own body. It was something just for his heart to know. A secret to share with someone he knows won’t walk away from him. But Baekhyun makes these secrets tumble from him without thought or preamble. “I’m not sure,” Junmyeon admits, rubbing at the back of his neck a little. “It’s just that I’ve never told anyone that before.” The serious expression is wiped away as Baekhyun throws his head back and laughs, “You’re kinda weird.” But then his hands is in Junmyeon’s and he’s pulling him towards a stall full of gerber daisies. “I like it.” Something settles in Junmyeon’s stomach, a sigh that puts his whole body at ease. Baekhyun rests his head on his shoulder, and asks, “Is she gone? Your aunt I mean?” A beat of silence passes between them as they look over the flowers together. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” Baekhyun amends. “No, it’s okay,” Junmyeon inspects a bunch of yellow daisies. “She passed away before I left for university. We were very close.” Baekhyun squeezes his hand, “I’m so sorry.” "Isn't it strange how we apologize when someone's gone? It's not anyone's fault. At least not most of the time. It's just...life." Junmyeon picks up a bouquet, satisfied. "But thank you," he adds softly and smiles at Baekhyun. "Those are beautiful," Baekhyun gestures to the flowers. Then he grins, eyes twinkling mischievously. "So Mr. Florist Man how much do you charge for a custom order?" "For you?" Junmyeon laughs, "I'll do it for free." As Baekhyun woops in triumph, Junmyeon feels hazy and warm and light. 3 Weeks Later It’s slowly become a game for him now, to go out into the world and wonder if this will be the next time he runs into Baekhyun. There’s something akin to a fairytale about their relationship, the way Baekhyun magically appears and disappears. Like a sprite or woodland nymph, come to whisk Junmyeon away from his life of self imposed restrictions. An oasis in the middle of the desert. Jongdae thinks he's being silly and can't understand how he wouldn't want to see Baekhyun on a more normal basis. “Stop being such a weirdo and ask him out on a date. Like a normal person would!”, were his exact words if Junmyeon remembers correctly. He thinks that Jongdae can't possibly understand, to know what it's like to go through life without a layer of impossible charm drawing people in. His non-relationship with Baekhyun feels safer this way, with no room for disappointment and heartache. Yet, he’s still caught off guard a few weeks laters when he sees Baekhyun walking alone into the ice cream shop a few steps ahead of himself. He debates for a moment on whether or not to say anything. But before he can make a decision either way, Baekhyun spots him and nearly yelps in surprise "Fancy seeing you here," Baekhyun smirks and throws an arm around Junmyeon's shoulder. "A very happy accident," Junmyeon agrees. Baekhyun pats his shoulder, "How about this time it's my treat?" All Junmyeon can do is smile and nod in agreement, as they walk up to the counter to order. Falling back into their usual banter is easy as they walk towards the outside tables, hands full with ice cream. “Well you know what they say,” Baekhyun says around a lick of his ice cream cone. A drop of strawberry flavor clings to his upper lip. “Third time’s a charm.” Confusion washes over Junmyeon for a moment. “Hmmm?” “Listen, I’m just gonna lay it all out. I like you...a lot. And I kind of want to take you out on a real date,” Baekhyun bites the top off of his cone. “Plus you're really cute.” Junmyeon stops mid-bite, the plastic spoon filled with his favorite apple flavor still hovering in the air. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Baekhyun contemplates him for a moment, with that stare that Junmyeon swears can see right through him. “What are you so afraid of?” Junmyeon doesn’t know. Can’t find the answer to why he’s so adamant about running away from this beautiful boy, with his square smile and open heart. “I don’t know what you mean.” Baekhyun contemplates him for a moment. “I like you, and I’m pretty much positive you like me too.” He gestures to himself, “I mean look at me, how could you not?” It sounds so much like something Jongdae would say that Junmyeon can’t help laughing, even if it comes out more like a strangled gurgle. Baekhyun’s face softens, “But you’re afraid, and I just can’t figure out why.” “I’m sorry,” Junmyeon hates the crack in his voice, the way his throat tightens up. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’s going to cry. Maybe he doesn’t know much of anything anymore. Maybe he never did at all. Sitting across from him, Baekhyun doesn’t look angry, doesn’t push. Just a slight downward droop of his eyes betrays his sadness and his disappointment. Bile rises in Junmyeon’s throat. Disappointment drives people away, makes them leave. Then he remembers that Baekhyun was never meant to stay to begin with. For a second, Baekhyun really looks at Junmyeon, studies the planes of his face. Then just as suddenly he's scribbling on a napkin. "Here's my number," he says and slides the napkin to Junmyeon. "Whenever you're ready, give me a call." "Okay," is all Junmyeon can manage to get out. He fingers the napkin and doesn't look up at Baekhyun. The sound of metal scraping on concrete finally gets Junmyeon to look back up. “I’m not mad or anything. I just thought you needed to know how I really felt.” Baekhyun's square smile is a little lopsided now, and a drip of ice cream falls across his knuckles. “But I am gonna go. Before it gets awkward. I’ll see you around.” Baekhyun is walking down the street, slurping loudly, before he disappears from Junmyeon’s sight completely. An hour goes by before Junmyeon can do anything, his ice cream melted and the sky turning pink as the sun sets. The napkin with Baekhyun’s number is still stuck on the table in front of him, taunting him as the corner ripples in the wind. So he stuffs it in his pocket, stands up from the table, and methodically cleans up his mess. Once his melted ice cream has been thrown in the trash and the table cleared of any spills, Junmyeon walks. He walks aimlessly down the street, in the same direction Baekhyun had, his head too busy swirling with thoughts to pay much attention. But once he stops, takes a second to get his bearings, he realizes he’s walked to the park. Right into the same park from the night they met. It’s nearly deserted, most of the families heading back to their homes as the air turns cold. Junmyeon wraps his cardigan closer around him, and walks towards the swingset. He sits and starts to pump his legs up and down, desperate to chase out the feeling of restless. After a few minutes his legs start to burn from the effort, quieting the hum of his brain enough to try and make sense of it all. He’s is afraid. Alone in the impending twilight, he can’t be anything other than honest with himself. He’s afraid. He’s afraid of letting Baekhyun get too close, because then he might have the power to hurt him. They might have the power to hurt each other. Junmyeon knows how to handle heartache built on the cusp of what might have been, a half hurt that stings but doesn’t devastate. Falling in love, opening your heart to that level of pain, is uncharted territory. It scares him. It scares him in a way nothing else ever has. Because Baekhyun is already too close. He knows Junmyeon, really knows him, in a way that no one else has ever managed. He doesn’t let people get close, too busy putting all the attention on them and deflecting from himself. Things are starting to make more sense, now. It’s never really been a question of him being enough for someone else, but rather him deciding for himself that he can be enough. People can’t hold onto someone if they don’t know them. But knowing this is one thing. Letting someone climb that wall and fall into him, takes courage Junmyeon isn’t sure he has. But then other thoughts flash through Junmyeon’s mind. Baekhyun warm against his chest, Baekhyun smiling in the sun, Baekhyun laughing and teasing and kissing. Talking for hours about everything and nothing at all. Long stretches of comfortable silence. These are all things he wants, deep in his bones. And he wants them with Baekhyun. Suddenly everything is so simple. He pulls the napkin from his pocket and types out a text message: I think I’m ready. At the park from the first night. Meet me? Closing his eyes, he presses send, a rush of adrenaline shooting through his veins. Even though it feels like forever, only a minute passes by before his phone vibrates in response. I’ll be there in 15. Don’t move!!! Junmyeon glances up at the sky, and the first glimpse of stars. He doesn’t plan on moving an inch. They talk for hours, sitting in the park, with a cache of snacks between them. Baekhyun tells him about his job at the veterinarian office. How he loves animals, and wants to heal them. The extra hours devoted to school are worth it when he thinks of the lives he can change. He tells Junmyeon funny stories about his roommate Tao: the high-maintenance love for tacky designer fashion, crying whenever he sees an insect, a deep shared affection for animals. He gets a little misty eyed when he talks about his grandmother who lives in the mountains, and how she taught him to fish in the lakes and run free on the grass. Who he never gets to see enough and loves very, very much. In return, Junmyeon tells Baekhyun about himself. His job at the non-profit company his parents railed against at first. Jongdae, his best friend from college whose charming and fun, and has always been on Junmeyon’s side. His aunt who loved him, no strings attached, and then left a gaping hole in his heart. How sometimes he is so afraid of being alone that he pushes everyone away by keeping them too close. Baekhyun holds his hand and listens, really listens, in a way that makes Junmyeon feel like he’s being heard for the first time. “Is that why you were keeping me at arm's length? Because you didn’t want to scare me away or something?” Baekhyun asks. Junmyeon chews on his bottom lip. “I think so? But then I realized something.” “What?” “You’ve made me braver than anybody else. How could I walk away from that?” It’s so much like the first night they met, but Junmyeon feels different this time. Open and transparent, maybe a little bit raw...the hazy dream lifted to reveal reality and nothing else. He thought it would ruin the fragile, magical world they had created. In some ways it did. But he thinks it's better this way. Everything is so easy between them now, and Junmyeon thinks it’s funny how they did things in reverse. They already know each other, at least all the important parts of each other. The rest is just formalities. When Baekhyun leans over and kisses him, soft and slow and sweet, Junmyeon never knew he could be so happy. 3 Months Later “Hyung! What are you doing here?” Baekhyun asks, looking up from the paperwork he’s rifling through. Junmyeon bites his lip. “I came to take you out for lunch. But if you’re busy…” The uncertainty comes back sometimes, the fear of doing something wrong, of driving someone away. But Baekhyun always smiles, says just the right words to make Junmyeon understand. I’m here and I’m staying and I’m not going to run away from you. “Don’t be silly, of course I have time for lunch!” Baekhyun grabs his tie, pulls him closer, and kisses him with just enough slip of the tongue to make it slightly inappropriate for the workplace. He thinks he hears someone snort appreciatively when Baekhyun pulls away. “Especially when you’re paying.” Junmyeon laughs. “You’re kind of a brat.” But Baekhyun just sighs and pinches his side a bit, as they walk out of the clinic together, hand in hand. “You look very handsome today,” Baekhyun compliments once they’re out of the shadow of the building. “I like that tie.” “Well, I love you.” And Junmyeon does love Baekhyun, loves everything about him. He’s been afraid to say the words, like saying them outloud makes them more real, but like is too short. Life's too short and not nearly long enough to keep such a big, scary, wonderful feeling hidden away in his heart. He’s not scared, not anymore, not really. Baekhyun makes him brave. “I love you, too." Baekhyun is looking at him, soft and fond, before he kisses him, hands trailing up and down his back. Junmyeon can feel Baekhyun’s breath, hot on his ear. He grabs a handful of Junmyeon’s butt and squeezes. Shocked, Junmyeon starts laughing, and Baekhyun runs away, the sunlight dappling through the leaves of the trees. On a late summer afternoon, Junmyeon runs too.

“Baekhyun hyung, why don’t you have any pants on!?”