#109: between me and you (1/2)
Prompt #: 109
Title: between me and you
Rating: NC-17
Main Pairing/s: Xiumin/Luhan
Side Pairing/s: Chen/Lay, Luhan/Suho
Word Count: 10,400
Summary: “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.” celeste and jesse forever!au
Author Notes: To my dear recipient, I hope you enjoy this! To the mods, thank you for being so patient and all around great!
June, 2007
The last thing Kim Minseok wants to hear at seven o'clock in the morning, on his day off, is his cell phone ringing on the night stand. He was having such a great dream, too. Something about a beach and a lot of skimpy clothes, and he's pretty sure cake was involved. Maybe if he just ignores it and rolls over…
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 satisfying slap 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 a burden 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.
Part 2
Title: between me and you
Rating: NC-17
Main Pairing/s: Xiumin/Luhan
Side Pairing/s: Chen/Lay, Luhan/Suho
Word Count: 10,400
Summary: “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.” celeste and jesse forever!au
Author Notes: To my dear recipient, I hope you enjoy this! To the mods, thank you for being so patient and all around great!
June, 2007
The last thing Kim Minseok wants to hear at seven o'clock in the morning, on his day off, is his cell phone ringing on the night stand. He was having such a great dream, too. Something about a beach and a lot of skimpy clothes, and he's pretty sure cake was involved. Maybe if he just ignores it and rolls over…
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 satisfying slap 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 a burden 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.
Part 2