Extra Time (Tempo Supplementare) 2/2
Title: Extra Time (Tempo Supplementare) 2/2
＜＜Kick-off
Second Half
She’s tall, thin, and tall. Both her blonde hair and plump lips are perfect, but probably fake. Freakishly tall. The heels help, but she’d still be taller than Lu Han even if she wasn’t wearing them.
The thing that bothers Lu Han the most is that she’s sticky, like glue. She grabs his arm, hanging from it as she smiles at the people she knows. When Lu Han tries to snatch it away she plants her carefully manicured nails in his wrist, and he yelps softly.
“It’s just façade,” she says, smiling forcefully, “I get it that you don’t like me like that, but it doesn’t hurt if I can gain a tiny bit of your charm, right?”
Except it hurts, a lot. The damage comes in the form of a three pages issue in one of the biggest gossip magazines of the country, and the money made with this single article is probably more than what the magazine has earned in the last few months. Lu Han admits that it’s partly his fault. If only had he been a little more open about his relationship with Minseok, people probably wouldn’t have been this anxious to know his dirty little secrets. But in his defence, he’s always wanted nothing more than to protect his boyfriend from the invasive questions of the press. And now he’s relatively screwed.
When his agent calls him the sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and the first thing he does upon hearing the news is not trying to reassure the poor man on the verge of a hysteric fits, nor, as his agent advises, calling his coach and the press staff of the club. He calls Minseok.
Minseok doesn’t answer, he never does. It’s too early for him, and he usually waits until he’s idly waiting for his train at the station to turn on his phone. Minseok doesn’t pick up his calls for the entire morning, and even though Lu Han keeps trying, as time passes he realizes that Minseok probably knows already. The smartest thing at this moment would be going to see his boyfriend directly, but Lu Han realizes, between a call to his lawyer to file a complaint against the magazine who spread the photos and an apologize to the coach because he’ll be late to the daily training since he has to explain the situation to the management, he doesn’t have the time to see Minseok, nor he knows his new address.
A week passes, and Lu Han has to use all of his persuasion to obtain Julia’s address, and even more for the coach to condone him a day of practice. She’s not that stunning without makeup, but she’s polite enough to open the door for him when he rings at her bell.
“I wasn’t waiting your visit,” she says, making way to a spacious and finely furnished living room. Lu Han meekly follows her, but when she makes a move to reach for her phone he snaps, taking it away from her hands.
“Let’s see,” he says, browsing the last calls. “Is this his number?” he asks, stopping over a name he’s come to know so well, “This is the photographer who took those seemingly compromising photos of us, right?”
Lu Han has taken a lot of precautions to avoid being seen, but he’s sure that the house would’ve been surrounded by paparazzi in a few minutes, had he let Julia make that single call.
“What are you talking about? Give me back my phone or I’ll report you.”
“Oh, I doubt you’d do it. That would surely contrast with the lovely image of us as a perfectly assorted couple you gave in that interview of yours.”
He feels rage mount into his veins, so strong he can almost taste it on the roof of his mouth. Lu Han is usually a cheerful person, but in the last few days an anger he has never felt in his life has started to eat his flesh. Julia is not a mean person, she’s merely surfing on the wave of Lu Hans popularity just like she had first planned, and he could’ve forgiven her if she didn’t have any fault other than that photo.
“Yes, I read it, the interview published yesterday,” he says, still playing idly with the phone to keep the heavy flux of curses he wants to drop on her at bay. She gasps, her features distorted in a panicked expression, and she looks like she wants to say something but Lu Han doesn’t let her, “it’s a pity we both know nothing you said was true. You had a deal with the photographer, right? Fame for you and a scoop for him.”
She wants to deny, sure, but Lu Han is unrelenting, and she finally surrenders. “Yes, but it wasn’t that bad. Admit it, you’re more popular than ever, we all gained something from this plot.”
Lu Han wants to choke her, to slam her head against the wall until she screams, but he takes a deep breath. This girl doesn’t know what’s at stake, she’s not even remotely aware that Lu Han and Minseok’s relationship could be ruined forever.
“I’m reporting you for calumny. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” he only says. She pales.
“You can’t do this to me, they wouldn’t believe you. What is wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me when I said that you’re gaining something too?”
He pins her to the wall, gaze dark as he keeps her still so that she can listen closely. “My boyfriend wants to dump me, and guess whose fault it is?” Her eyes snap open, she wasn’t expecting this plot twist. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, and if you don’t release a public confession as soon as possible, he’ll make sure to take every single penny away from you in court, are we clear?”
Without waiting for an answer, he snaps the phone in half and leaves the room without turning back.
The face of the secretary when he asks for a call for a boy called, “Jongdae, Kim Jongdae,” coupled with his best charming smile and a wink is priceless. Jongdae’s face is even better.
Lu Han is used to the effect he has on people, the awe, the emotion. He’s a superstar. In Jongdae’s defence, the surprise he shows when he sees Lu Han carelessly sitting on the desk of the classroom and waiting for him isn’t even half of the emotion that flashes on his faceface when he's informed s that Lu Han is there for Minseok.
“I fucking knew it, bachelor life his ass. All of those nights passed in Manchester, I always suspected he had a bitch waiting for him somewhere.” Lu Han find a smile he didn’t know he still had, lost under all the frustration of the last few days, at the thought of being called Minseok’s bitch. He totally is, has been and always will be.
Jongdae snickers at his dreamy expression, letting out a triumphant, “And you’re not even denying it! Can I sell this information to the press? Oh wait!” His eyes widen, and Lu Han can see realization dawning over him. Jongdae explodes like a grenade, hands on Lu Han’s shirt and little fist ready to punch his face, “You bastard! Didn’t you cheat on him? What do you want?”
Knowing that Minseok has a friend like Jongdae is relieving, and Lu Han feels they’ll become good buddies in the future, but now he has to beg for Minseok’s forgiveness, though, to be honest, he’s been starting to feel a little disappointed. He’s always cared about Minseok the most even when they were only friends, before he started salivating over his ass. To know that Minseok would throw everything away just because he’s suspecting that Lu Han cheated on him is depressing.
“I want to talk with Minseok,” he says, and Jongdae listens as Lu Han explains that not always everything is what it seems, that maybe something a scoop is more important than the truth, and that he absolutely needs to speak with Minseok.
“I hope you’re not lying,” is Jongdae’s answer as he hands Lu Han is phone and messily writes Minseok’s new address on a flying piece of paper. “He’s struggling to hide it, but he’s devastated. This project we’re working on is really important, he’s been coming here every day since the start, even when he had a fever and we had to tie him to the couch of the professor’s room because he didn’t want to stay down and rest. Today is his first day of leave. You must’ve been important.”
Worry gnaws at Lu Han’s chest. Minseok has never been good at taking care of himself. He needs to see him immediately.
“I am important. I’m the most important thing in Minseok’s life,” he says cockily, and signs Jongdae’s tie with a fake smile right when the lens of a camera peeks from the open door. “If they ask, you’re my fan, been in love in me for years, and I accepted to meet you because I’m a generous person,” he whispers in Jongdae’s ear, and then, with a more serious voice, “don’t blow my cover. I don’t want them to camp outside Minseok’s house, please.”
Jongdae nods before Lu Han bids him goodbye and leaves the poor boy at paparazzi’s mercy.
Lu Han looks at the door like it’s just waiting to punch him. It’s the only thing that stands between him and Minseok, but after having come all this way Lu Han feels empty. There’s a void right where his lungs should be, a dark hole sucking his emotions and making him feel small and little.
Lu Han has built his life, creating pillars where there were only insecurities and doubts, has forged his strong persona with his own hands. Minseok has been one of his biggest strengths. Lu Han can be proud of what he’s done until now, but he must admit that he wouldn’t probably be here if it wasn’t for kind, always reassuring, Minseok. The practical, matter-of-factly Minseok who prepared Lu Han’s suitcases remembering to stuff inside the thing Lu Han would need the most, and he’d always end up forgetting at home. The endearing, chattering Minseok who charmed the foreigner scouts sitting next to him into looking better at his stupid boyfriend during that crucial game against a Shanghai team. The hard-working boy who brought him energy drinks at the end of his lessons, stopping by the field and waiting, surrounded by heavy books, for Lu Han to finish as well so that they could come home together. The cheerful kid whom he had befriended through a penpal program, and after Minseok had come to visit him in Beijing for a six-months study program, soon prolonged to a full year, Lu Han had found himself in love with his dear Korean friend, and he had ended up playing for a Korean football team during his last year in high school in order to be able to follow Minseok to Seoul. No matter how far Lu Han looks back, there’s always a Minseok, answering his late night calls to talk about how unfair that foul was or the substitute coach who hates Lu Han’s guts. And then there were the other conversations, hushed words spoken only under the privacy of cotton sheets and the protection of Minseok’s arms, when Lu Han was too tired and he needed an energy boost in form of kisses on the crown of his head and warm hands splashed on his back.
Lu Han misses Minseok even when he’s there with him, and the mere thought of having one of the most beautiful things that ever happened to him ruined like this is frightening, and that’s exactly why he can’t help but to be angry at Minseok too, who’s hiding in his house, behind this blue door, daring to doubt Lu Han’s love.
If he presses his ear to the wooden surface, he can hear sounds leaking; he recognizes the background music of the kiss episode in episode fourth and his heart breaks. There’s anger, but there’s so much love, the warmth that only Minseok’s presence an evoke, almost calling and pulling and urging him to destroy that door and come to take what’s his, and there’s a splitting worry at the thought of Minseok, alone and sad and in need of Lu Han’s comfort.
He rings the doorbell.
Lu Han is prepared to the sight of a messy Minseok, so he doesn’t let himself be swayed by the careless beauty that Minseok shows when he’s frail, traces of chocolate at the corner of his lip, too large pyjamas shirt low on the neck, barefoot and hair still splaying in every direction despite the fumbling fingers trying to untangle the knots. It takes away his breath every time he sees it, but he was expecting it, so he manages to react a fraction of second before Minseok, slipping his foot behind the wall and the door and jumping inside as soon as Minseok’s hold on the handle wavers.
They land in an uncomfortable heap of limbs.
Minseok is tenfold times worse than Lu Han thought. He scans at least three different magazines with Lu Han and Julia’s face only in the kitchen, Minseok’s hands tremble as he chooses the tea and he probably doesn’t even realize, but his eyes have been wet from the very first moment he saw Lu Han standing on his welcome mat. He expected him to be surly, and he is, but he’s also emotionally wrecked. Lu Han is still angry that Minseok didn’t have enough faith in him to just fucking wait to talk with him before hurting alone, but he’s also glad that things has come to this point because he wants to settle things between them once for all.
So he lets Minseok’s shouts fall over him, calmly explains what he feel. Kissing the girl? mocks his mind, as if I really need her when I have all of you and you’re only mine. He wraps himself around Minseok, exploiting the way that lithe body recognizes his own by instinct and doesn’t fight the intrusion, though he’s really sure its owner would only like to shove Lu Han’s limbs away. He feels the strain on his neck when he pushes his boyfriend down, on the table, and his lips chase Minseok’s forcing his head to bend at an unnatural angle. He lingers there, merely a breath away from plump lips.
They could kiss, and kiss again, until Minseok is relieved and satisfied and stuffed with so much pleasure that he won’t be able to speak, let alone question Lu Han’s behaviour.
But that would be a palliative, a scratch on the surface of a problem that Lu Han has always sensed right there, even if he never had the guts to face Minseok about it.
He draws away instead, he takes a step back as Minseok stands there, lips barely parted, fringe haphazardly falling over his long eyelashes. This is it, this is the turning point, he thinks, as he takes his coat still hanging in the tiny foyer, this is where Lu Han bets his heart. He’s always done the chase by himself, taking Minseok by his hands and bringing him back to his chest, and if Minseok still dares to question their relationship after all Lu Han has done for him, there’s nothing more he can do alone. He falters before opening the door. Minseok is even more frantic now, openly sniffing and looking like the world is ending, but Lu Han can’t do anything for him if Minseok doesn’t take the first step this time.
Just when he’s going to walk out of the apartment, Minseok shouts, “Wait!”
Lu Han is still turned and Minseok can’t see his expression, so he can smile and heave a sigh of relief. “Please,” begs Minseok, hand clamped tight on Lu Han’s wrist, “I believe you. Stay a little more.”
Extra Time
Lu Han steals a quick glance at his phone, where the umpteenth angry message from basically everyone has just joined the others in the unread box. He’s later than late, no one knows where he is, and they’re going to make him pay for this stunt. He doesn’t care if they cut his (to be honest already scandalous) wage or if the coach chains him to the bench for the rest of the season. Like they can afford to keep him out of the field when the next weekend they have a game that could bring them the cup. Ok, maybe it isn’t the best time to run around and miss practice, when everyone is too nervous and crushed by the weight of the mere four advantage points over Arsenal when they only have two games left before the ends of the League.
Lu Han is a professional, he should be on the training field with the rest of the team, but nothing in the world could convince him to leave Minseok’s side now. He threads his fingers in Minseok’s hair, petting the other boy’s head where it’s resting on his lap.
Minseok has long stopped crying, but Lu Han still can’t leave him alone, not when they’re talking for the first time in months. Not that they didn’t talk before, but this is different.
“I don’t want to feel like that anymore, Lu Han, I don’t want to doubt you,” says Minseok in a soft voice, and his head follow Lu Han’s retreating hand until it’s resting again his cheek again.
“But you don’t have to doubt me, you know I’d never… Minseok, you know how much I love you. And it hurts me to know you have this little faith in me.”
Minseok bites his lip, and Lu Han has to refrain himself from leaning down to do the same, the red mouth so tempting and sweet. “It’s just that…” he groans. “It’s really stupid, Han.”
He doesn’t want to urge him to talk, so he waits until Minseok is ready, doodling hearts on the boy’s scalp and cheek with his fingers to relax him. Minseok opens his mouth, close it, think again, and in the end he sighs, defeated.
“We've known each other since forever, and it’s not that I doubt your love, but you fell in love with me when we were so young, and you didn’t know anything else. You didn’t know any blond super tall model, but now you do, and maybe I’m afraid you’ll realize that I’m not that great of a catch. I mean, she’s so pretty and I…” He hasn’t finished talking but Lu Han’s hand is already on Minseok’s mouth, to stop this nonsensical blabbering before he can say some stupid thing about him not being pretty enough, or not sexy enough, or generically not enough.
Minseok bites him, and Lu Han’s hand moves upwards, covering his eyes so that Minseok doesn’t see him blushing. “Lu Han, I can’t see anything.” He doesn’t move his hand, and when Minseok tries to scratch his fingers away from his field of vision Lu Han traps his wrist in his other hand.
Minseok lies under him, “Are you angry?” he asks in the end.
“No, no. I think I wanna marry you.”
“Oh.”
Lu Han is really glad that Minseok’s eyes are covered now, because the blush is rapidly spreading, from his cheeks to his neck and ears, and he doesn’t want Minseok to laugh at his red face.
“It’s because,” he hastily spits out, “you’re having too many unnecessary doubts, and maybe I want to give you something real. I want you to have something to hold on when you’re feeling lost.”
And maybe Lu Han wants to have something to hold onto too, maybe he wants that ring to be the thread that ties his and Minseok’s fingers. Minseok is blushing too now, under his hands, and when he struggles to free his hands from Lu Han’s hold, he lets him. Minseok’s fingers are cool against his neck, but his face is warmer than Lu Han’s.
“I mean, you can trust me, you can always trust me. But I want everyone to know that you’re with me and I’m with you, so that they can’t go around making assumption that’ll only hurt us in the end. And I don’t want you to disappear on me. Ever again. You can avoid me if you want, but it still hurts me so much thinking that you wanted to go on with your life, cutting ties with me and never talking to me again-”
“I would’ve talked to you!” pleads Minseok with his little, broken voice, “I needed a moment, and this never happened before and I didn’t know how to deal with it. And I was so angry, and hurt, and I thought that you were tired of me already, so I needed a moment,” he says, raising his voice so that Lu Han doesn’t interrupt him. His lashes flutters under Lu Han’s palm like the wings of a butterfly, light and nervous. “But I would’ve called you, I would’ve come to look for you, and…”
He murmurs something, and Lu Han can’t make out his words, just an unsorted, muffled mumble.
“What? Minseok, I didn’t hear you.”
He tries to lift his hand from Minseok’s eyes, but little fingers stop him, keeping it pinned right where it is, splayed on the warm skin. Minseok repeats it, barely inaudible, but there, “I was waiting for you to come looking for me.”
Lu Han gulps, feeling ridiculous. Here they are, two full-grown men, they’ve been together for years and they still can’t talk freely about this kind of things. He wants to facepalm himself.
“But I came, right? I’m here. I’m not letting you go. You know that I am selfish and egoist, I only care about my own happiness. I ruined your friendship with that Park girl only to have you for myself, I convinced you to refuse the offer of that French university, even though their program was better than the one here in Manchester, only because I wanted you to live near me. But I don’t know if I want to throw you into the press claws, they’d ruin your life.”
“And what could they do? I’m so boring, you’re my only scandalous sin.”
“I’d still prefer if you came to live with me, you know, for privacy sake,” he says, leaning down to kiss the corner of Minseok’s mouth. “I’ll think about it,” it’s Minseok’s reply.
Penalty Shootout
Minseok groaned loudly on the bleachers as the host team scored a point after an intense middle-field game. It was not often that he managed to snatch a few hours away from university study and the part time job necessary to pay aforementioned university, but today he would’ve liked to stay home. He only came because he had promised it to an obnoxious Chinese boy.
Next to him, Jongdae cheered loudly, almost falling on the person sitting in front of him in the process. It was a little sad that the only person whom Minseok trusted to be on his side against Lu Han had taken a sudden and unexpected interest in football and was now sitting next to him, flailing his limbs and shouting, wearing Manchester United colours. Minseok asked himself how many deathly sins he had committed in his previous life to be cursed by the double doom of having both a best friend and a boyfriend, fiancé, corrected Lu Han in his mind with a infuriatingly smug voice, who loved more than anything else the only team he couldn’t stand.
He would’ve preferred to be at home rather than here, assisting at his boyfriend’s team glorious win. Ok, they were not winning, yet, but it was the last game of the season and it would’ve taken another single score to put the trophy in their hands. The crowd around him whistled and shouted when the referee pointed out a nasty foul, and Minseok scratched at the red scarf on his neck, asking himself if it was really really necessary on Lu Han’s part making him wear his team colours too.
The referee whistled, announcing a substitution for the opposing team, and the entire stadium exploded as Lu Han ran in the field, ready to shine.
They won, obviously, it was the only possible outcome. Lu Han was everywhere on the field, scoring, passing, defending, spinning like a whirligig back and forth. Even Minseok, despite his traditional antipathy for the team, had to admit that Manchester United had played like a single man and they really deserved to win. When the final whistle closed the game, and the league, delivering the victory to his boyfriend’s team, he cheered too, just a little bit. Because he was happy for Lu Han, nothing more.
“Did you wave your red flag Minseok? I thought you would've never betrayed your beliefs.”
Jongdae had shouted for his voice to be heard, and Minseok stuffed the flag inside his friend’s wide mouth, beaming in revenge.
“This way you’ll learn to shut up,” he said to a spluttering Jongdae.
Under the shiny lights of the Old Trafford Lu Han’s face looked even creepier as he smiled without restraints, showing his gums and shouting while his teammates threw him up in the air and hugged him in unappropriated places. Hands down, that dick is mine. Minseok was surprised at the little flair of jealousy he felt.
Then Lu Han was down, running under the bleachers to greet the fans, and…
“What. The. Fuck,” exclaimed Jongdae, his mouth so wide that his jaw could easily rest on his collarbones. Minseok froze, feeling his heartbeat accelerating as cold sweat run on his back making him shiver. People whispered loudly around them, and Jongdae elbowed him in the kidney, knocking the little air left out of his lungs until he was silently choking with his eyes still fixed on the field. He tried to recompose himself, not wanting to give Lu Han the satisfaction of seeing him like this, but he couldn’t move. His mind was jammed, stuck on the few Chinese characters printed on the shirt Lu Han was wearing under the red uniform shirt he had just thrown on the grass.
“Minseok,” muttered Jongdae trying to recover from the shock, “my Chinese skills are a little rusty, but isn’t that a marriage proposal next to your name on that shirt?”
Minseok only found the strength to inhale slowly, trying to clear the fog in his mind, before exhaling a thin “I am going to kill Lu Han.”
“Jongin called. He says that your entire neighbourhood is flooded with people with cameras and that he’ll kill you because you were fucking his celebrity crush and you didn’t even bring him a signed shirt.”
Minseok nodded, unable to snap out of his dazed state.
“Looks like they made the connection between your name and Lu Han’s visit to our university last week pretty fast, they even know your address. Are you sure you don’t want to camp on my couch for the time being? I don’t think you’ll make it into your apartment unharmed.”
Minseok nodded again, Jongdae’s voice merely a buzz. Well, goodbye discretion. When he and Lu Han had agreed to make their relationship a little more public he expected them to go out on a date or to be invited to a public event as Lu Han’s plus one. Not a declaration of love in the Theatre of Dreams packed with more than seventy thousands supporters during a game that half of Britain was currently watching, never mind the fact that it had probably been broadcasted abroad.
“May I help you?” said a well-known voice with a thick Canadian accent.
“Oh, Kevin,” he sighed, then seeing that Jongdae was admiring the tall stranger in awe and the tall stranger was literally undressing his friend in his mind, I always knew he had a thing for shorties, he made the necessary introductions. “This is Jongdae, a friend and colleague of mine. Jongdae, Kevin, Lu Han’s manager.”
“This is a pleasure,” said Kevin as he extended his hand, pronouncing the words with a low voice and never taking his eyes away from Jongdae. “Oh, no, the pleasure is mine,” said Jongdae licking his lips. Their handshake was so long and full of sexual tension that Minseok wanted to lie on the ground and die of embarrassment. Oh god, what have I done?
Coughing loudly to put an end to the slutty handshake, he turned towards Kevin, “Did you know he was going to pull a stunt like that and you came here to laugh at me?”
Kevin smiled evilly. “Looks like the surprise worked. You know, he’s lucky he’s talented, or else they would’ve kicked him out of the team for all of this drama. Anyway, I came here to offer you a lift. I can take you home if you want, the bodyguard will handle the paparazzi. Or you can stay with Han for a while, at least until the ruckus dies down.”
“I can’t believe it, he planned everything! He’s been asking me to move in with him this last week, but I never accepted, and now I can’t go home anyway.”
“Well, you’ll probably have half of England camping under your house in less than ten minutes. So is it decided? Perfect, I’ll call Zitao, you can go with him,” he said, nodding to a dark-haired boy whom Minseok knew was more Lu Han’s little brother rather than his bodyguard. “I can’t go with you unfortunately, someone has to take care of this precious boy here” he said, winking to Jongdae, who blushed but smirked back. Really, what have I done?
Zitao seemed to think the same thing, because he stared at Minseok accusingly as Kevin put a hand on Jongdae’s back to lead him towards his car, but immediately dropped it to his ass.
“What have you done, ge?” whined Zitao.
“I don’t know, kid, I don’t know.” He groaned, “Now take me to the lion’s lair.”
Minseok followed the rest of the press conference from Lu Han’s living room, splayed in a 100% Italian leather coach, watching the live HD version of his boyfriend’s ugly face on the technologic display, probably taller than Minseok, that covered the entire wall.
It wasn’t the first time that he visited Lu Han’s flat, and it wasn’t the first time that he thought, with a pang of annoyance, what a show-off.
Since he was there he ordered a pizza, deciding at the last moment to pay with a stack of money he had found in his boyfriend’s socks, and not with his own. Since Lu Han had basically kidnapped him - his house had been compromised thanks to that idiot, so he had no other choice than to stay with him - he thought it was only fair that he was using Lu Han’s money to eat. With that thought in mind he ordered, feeling vengeful, also the chips and, in a show of extreme evilness, a bottle of beer that he was perfectly aware he wouldn’t even drink. Ok, so maybe the chips were for Lu Han and the pizza he had ordered was his favourite.
He should’ve been furious, but he wasn’t and he couldn’t understand why anger wasn’t threatening to explode in his chest. Maybe he was just relieved that everything had turned up all right, in the end. The thought that Lu Han wasn’t ashamed of him, that he had been more than ready, excited even, to literally show his feelings on his chest for the world to read was flattering. He was obviously never going to admit it with Lu Han, or anyone else, he wouldn’t live to hear the end of it if he did, but under thick layers of shame, and embarrassment, and rage - because Lu Han couldn’t have done normal like the rest of the world, no, he had to surprise him with his cunning, devious little plan- he felt oddly proud that everyone knew exactly who Lu Han really belonged to.
Lu Han tiptoed into his house, almost expecting a shoe to fly towards his head the moment he stepped in the living room. Minseok was probably really angry, but Lu Han was particularly proud of his plan this time. He’d been begging Minseok to come and live with him, but the boy had been adamantine. Lu Han was used to always obtain what he wanted though, and a day or two of cold shower were definitely worth the benefits of having his Minseok at home every night.
The house was silent, and he was surprised that no one was there to assault him and demand revenge. The only trace of Minseok’s passage was a pillow lying forgotten on the couch, and half of a pizza coupled with chips and beer in the kitchen. Lu Han didn’t touch it, Minseok had the nasty habit to become very creative when he was mad. Who knew, maybe the pizza was poisoned.
He was far more worried that he hadn’t seen Minseok yet, and he was starting to think that the other boy had preferred listening to his pride and go home rather than follow Lu Han’s plan and stay there.
Only the bedroom was left, but he highly doubted that Minseok was there.
Lu Han had never been more wrong in his life. His boyfriend was indeed in the bedroom. Naked.
“You took your time,” called Minseok from the bed, where he was laying sprawled like a feast on the duvet, his crossed legs the things standing between Lu Han and his dick. Then he spread them, looking daringly at Lu Han. He stared, feeling his mouth watering.
“You’re not angry. Is this a plot to end my life? Is this the last wish before my decapitation? Is this the fastest way to kill me and leave no evidence? Because I must say, I’m dying to fuck you.”
Before he could stop himself he was eighteen years old again, stoned on the backside of Minseok’s car and blabbering apologies like an idiot in front of his teammate’s dick after an awkward drunken confession that had embarrassed him, Minseok, their friends and more or less the entire neighbourhood. Minseok had dragged him into his car, and Lu Han had thought he was going to strangle him, but Minseok had only kindly asked him if he could give him a blowjob and then he had dumped his girlfriend who wasn’t really his girlfriend to begin with but his cousin Joonmyeon and they weren’t kissing in the bathroom but he was pep talking her into casually greeting the head of the choir club Do Kyungsoo for whom she’d had an unbelievably deep crush since elementary school.
“Lu Han,” warned Minseok, “less talking, more fucking.” He spread his legs more with a devilish smirk, “Please.”
Lu Han could swear he heard the sound of his brain short-circuiting. “Can- Can I kiss you first?”
Minseok pretended to reflect about it, biting his lip thoughtfully, “Can I suck you first?”
He tripped on the words, feeling a bit like molasses was dripping into his mouth and preventing him from sounding intelligent. “Oh, well, go ahead then.”
Minseok crawled towards him, as Lu Han struggled to lose his pants. He licked him like a kitten, only lowering himself to suck when Lu Han begged. Lu Han’s hands fastened themselves on the sheets, in the useless attempt to relieve some of the tension on his body. The adrenaline in his blood sang when Minseok hummed around him. Dark, hooded eyes peered from under the messy fringe, and Lu Han wanted nothing more than to force his grip silky onto strands and pull, pull until Minseok was choking on him. He didn’t dare, and Minseok’s eyes seemed to laugh of his internal struggle.
He moaned when his boyfriend let his cock slip free, pushing Lu Han’s body until he was falling on the bed, only to straddle him and shove his tongue down his throat.
Minseok tasted like victory and triumph, or maybe Lu Han was simply tasting himself on the roof of his mouth. When his hands fell on Minseok’s perky bottom, circling his entrance, Minseok slapped them away, answering the interrogative look he was receiving with a haughty “I already took care of it myself. Besides, this is celebratory sex. You were really good today, holding that cup in your hands, almost sexy, I’d say.”
He wanted to protest, to answer that he was always sexy, thank you very much Kim Minseok, but the other boy shut him up, lowering himself on Lu Han’s erection, setting a devious pace, up and down. And maybe Lu Han had really turned into his eighteen years old self, because like ten years before he came impossibly fast and impossibly hard, with Minseok’s name in his lips and in his mind.
“If this is the way you reward me every time I utterly embarrass you in public, you can expect me to put my hands on your ass during a live broadcast next week.”
“You mean during the final game of the Champions League?” asked Minseok, curiosity shining in his eyes. Lu Han screamed internally in joy, realizing that for the first time he was going to gift Minseok a VIP ticket, one of the best seating places reserved for the players’ families.
“Or I could pull a Casillas stunt and kiss you in front of the camera after I’ve won the cup. What do you say?”
“Do that and I’ll make sure to ram that same tongue inside your ass before I fuck you.”
Lu Han couldn’t deny the shiver that ran across his back at Minseok’s words, but he also had to admit that his boyfriend didn’t seem particularly threatening right now, curled like a puppy against Lu Han’s body.
“Will you marry me?”
“Mmmh, not so soon. Your fans haven’t even begun to grasp the sad reality that you’re already engaged, we don’t want to kill all of their hopes yet. They interviewed one of them before, she doesn’t even know who I am but she’s giving us three weeks.”
“I kinda regret not coming out sooner, you know?”
Minseok let his tongue smack against the roof of his mouth, “I don’t. I enjoyed my privacy until now, but things were starting to get a little… You know. They said she was pregnant with your child, by the way.”
He pulled Minseok against his chest, to whisper in his ear, “Kim Minseok, were you jealous? Do you want to be the one who’ll bear my child instea- Hey, stop!” Tiny, deft hands ran on his sides making him squirm, and when he finally let go Minseok stabbed him with his elbow.
“What did I do in my past lives to deserve an asshole like you in this one?” he said, with a sigh.
“I don’t know,” answered Lu Han, resting his head on the crook of Minseok’s neck and nosing at his skin, “but whatever I did in my past lives to snatch someone like you in this one, stay assured that I’ll always do anything to keep you all for myself, I’m never letting you go.”
He took a deep breath, “Kim Minseok, do you want to marry-”
Minseok kissed his lips to shut him up.
Final Whistle
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A/N: I DID IT! why am i always this fashionably late for people bdays çç
-this is the strangest fic i've ever written and i'm sorry if the tenses are switched in the first and last part, it's because i wrote the first part of this fic months ago and i was too lazy to change it. i also sense with my doom super powers that there are a lot of typos and other mistakes, but since i'm so laty i'll edit everything when i have time (maybe)
-the meaning of the italian words in the title is extra time. also forgive me but i know close to nothing about football vocabulary in english, i only know the words in italian and i tried my best (thank you wikipedia) but i fear my void of ignorance cannot be filled like this, so there are probably a lot of inaccuracies. also, man united is close to win the league this year as i am close to win an english literature award, but here they win it for plot reasons (i'm sorry for liverpool who's currently leading premier league you have my utmost respect)
-the lemon sucks
-happy bday lu han sorry but the lemon sucks
-OT: i probably won't be able to write somthing for taozi's bday in time, but i have baekhyun's fic written since february so AT LEAST i won't be late for my bias' special day <3
＜＜Kick-off
Second Half
She’s tall, thin, and tall. Both her blonde hair and plump lips are perfect, but probably fake. Freakishly tall. The heels help, but she’d still be taller than Lu Han even if she wasn’t wearing them.
The thing that bothers Lu Han the most is that she’s sticky, like glue. She grabs his arm, hanging from it as she smiles at the people she knows. When Lu Han tries to snatch it away she plants her carefully manicured nails in his wrist, and he yelps softly.
“It’s just façade,” she says, smiling forcefully, “I get it that you don’t like me like that, but it doesn’t hurt if I can gain a tiny bit of your charm, right?”
Except it hurts, a lot. The damage comes in the form of a three pages issue in one of the biggest gossip magazines of the country, and the money made with this single article is probably more than what the magazine has earned in the last few months. Lu Han admits that it’s partly his fault. If only had he been a little more open about his relationship with Minseok, people probably wouldn’t have been this anxious to know his dirty little secrets. But in his defence, he’s always wanted nothing more than to protect his boyfriend from the invasive questions of the press. And now he’s relatively screwed.
When his agent calls him the sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and the first thing he does upon hearing the news is not trying to reassure the poor man on the verge of a hysteric fits, nor, as his agent advises, calling his coach and the press staff of the club. He calls Minseok.
Minseok doesn’t answer, he never does. It’s too early for him, and he usually waits until he’s idly waiting for his train at the station to turn on his phone. Minseok doesn’t pick up his calls for the entire morning, and even though Lu Han keeps trying, as time passes he realizes that Minseok probably knows already. The smartest thing at this moment would be going to see his boyfriend directly, but Lu Han realizes, between a call to his lawyer to file a complaint against the magazine who spread the photos and an apologize to the coach because he’ll be late to the daily training since he has to explain the situation to the management, he doesn’t have the time to see Minseok, nor he knows his new address.
A week passes, and Lu Han has to use all of his persuasion to obtain Julia’s address, and even more for the coach to condone him a day of practice. She’s not that stunning without makeup, but she’s polite enough to open the door for him when he rings at her bell.
“I wasn’t waiting your visit,” she says, making way to a spacious and finely furnished living room. Lu Han meekly follows her, but when she makes a move to reach for her phone he snaps, taking it away from her hands.
“Let’s see,” he says, browsing the last calls. “Is this his number?” he asks, stopping over a name he’s come to know so well, “This is the photographer who took those seemingly compromising photos of us, right?”
Lu Han has taken a lot of precautions to avoid being seen, but he’s sure that the house would’ve been surrounded by paparazzi in a few minutes, had he let Julia make that single call.
“What are you talking about? Give me back my phone or I’ll report you.”
“Oh, I doubt you’d do it. That would surely contrast with the lovely image of us as a perfectly assorted couple you gave in that interview of yours.”
He feels rage mount into his veins, so strong he can almost taste it on the roof of his mouth. Lu Han is usually a cheerful person, but in the last few days an anger he has never felt in his life has started to eat his flesh. Julia is not a mean person, she’s merely surfing on the wave of Lu Hans popularity just like she had first planned, and he could’ve forgiven her if she didn’t have any fault other than that photo.
“Yes, I read it, the interview published yesterday,” he says, still playing idly with the phone to keep the heavy flux of curses he wants to drop on her at bay. She gasps, her features distorted in a panicked expression, and she looks like she wants to say something but Lu Han doesn’t let her, “it’s a pity we both know nothing you said was true. You had a deal with the photographer, right? Fame for you and a scoop for him.”
She wants to deny, sure, but Lu Han is unrelenting, and she finally surrenders. “Yes, but it wasn’t that bad. Admit it, you’re more popular than ever, we all gained something from this plot.”
Lu Han wants to choke her, to slam her head against the wall until she screams, but he takes a deep breath. This girl doesn’t know what’s at stake, she’s not even remotely aware that Lu Han and Minseok’s relationship could be ruined forever.
“I’m reporting you for calumny. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” he only says. She pales.
“You can’t do this to me, they wouldn’t believe you. What is wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me when I said that you’re gaining something too?”
He pins her to the wall, gaze dark as he keeps her still so that she can listen closely. “My boyfriend wants to dump me, and guess whose fault it is?” Her eyes snap open, she wasn’t expecting this plot twist. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, and if you don’t release a public confession as soon as possible, he’ll make sure to take every single penny away from you in court, are we clear?”
Without waiting for an answer, he snaps the phone in half and leaves the room without turning back.
The face of the secretary when he asks for a call for a boy called, “Jongdae, Kim Jongdae,” coupled with his best charming smile and a wink is priceless. Jongdae’s face is even better.
Lu Han is used to the effect he has on people, the awe, the emotion. He’s a superstar. In Jongdae’s defence, the surprise he shows when he sees Lu Han carelessly sitting on the desk of the classroom and waiting for him isn’t even half of the emotion that flashes on his faceface when he's informed s that Lu Han is there for Minseok.
“I fucking knew it, bachelor life his ass. All of those nights passed in Manchester, I always suspected he had a bitch waiting for him somewhere.” Lu Han find a smile he didn’t know he still had, lost under all the frustration of the last few days, at the thought of being called Minseok’s bitch. He totally is, has been and always will be.
Jongdae snickers at his dreamy expression, letting out a triumphant, “And you’re not even denying it! Can I sell this information to the press? Oh wait!” His eyes widen, and Lu Han can see realization dawning over him. Jongdae explodes like a grenade, hands on Lu Han’s shirt and little fist ready to punch his face, “You bastard! Didn’t you cheat on him? What do you want?”
Knowing that Minseok has a friend like Jongdae is relieving, and Lu Han feels they’ll become good buddies in the future, but now he has to beg for Minseok’s forgiveness, though, to be honest, he’s been starting to feel a little disappointed. He’s always cared about Minseok the most even when they were only friends, before he started salivating over his ass. To know that Minseok would throw everything away just because he’s suspecting that Lu Han cheated on him is depressing.
“I want to talk with Minseok,” he says, and Jongdae listens as Lu Han explains that not always everything is what it seems, that maybe something a scoop is more important than the truth, and that he absolutely needs to speak with Minseok.
“I hope you’re not lying,” is Jongdae’s answer as he hands Lu Han is phone and messily writes Minseok’s new address on a flying piece of paper. “He’s struggling to hide it, but he’s devastated. This project we’re working on is really important, he’s been coming here every day since the start, even when he had a fever and we had to tie him to the couch of the professor’s room because he didn’t want to stay down and rest. Today is his first day of leave. You must’ve been important.”
Worry gnaws at Lu Han’s chest. Minseok has never been good at taking care of himself. He needs to see him immediately.
“I am important. I’m the most important thing in Minseok’s life,” he says cockily, and signs Jongdae’s tie with a fake smile right when the lens of a camera peeks from the open door. “If they ask, you’re my fan, been in love in me for years, and I accepted to meet you because I’m a generous person,” he whispers in Jongdae’s ear, and then, with a more serious voice, “don’t blow my cover. I don’t want them to camp outside Minseok’s house, please.”
Jongdae nods before Lu Han bids him goodbye and leaves the poor boy at paparazzi’s mercy.
Lu Han looks at the door like it’s just waiting to punch him. It’s the only thing that stands between him and Minseok, but after having come all this way Lu Han feels empty. There’s a void right where his lungs should be, a dark hole sucking his emotions and making him feel small and little.
Lu Han has built his life, creating pillars where there were only insecurities and doubts, has forged his strong persona with his own hands. Minseok has been one of his biggest strengths. Lu Han can be proud of what he’s done until now, but he must admit that he wouldn’t probably be here if it wasn’t for kind, always reassuring, Minseok. The practical, matter-of-factly Minseok who prepared Lu Han’s suitcases remembering to stuff inside the thing Lu Han would need the most, and he’d always end up forgetting at home. The endearing, chattering Minseok who charmed the foreigner scouts sitting next to him into looking better at his stupid boyfriend during that crucial game against a Shanghai team. The hard-working boy who brought him energy drinks at the end of his lessons, stopping by the field and waiting, surrounded by heavy books, for Lu Han to finish as well so that they could come home together. The cheerful kid whom he had befriended through a penpal program, and after Minseok had come to visit him in Beijing for a six-months study program, soon prolonged to a full year, Lu Han had found himself in love with his dear Korean friend, and he had ended up playing for a Korean football team during his last year in high school in order to be able to follow Minseok to Seoul. No matter how far Lu Han looks back, there’s always a Minseok, answering his late night calls to talk about how unfair that foul was or the substitute coach who hates Lu Han’s guts. And then there were the other conversations, hushed words spoken only under the privacy of cotton sheets and the protection of Minseok’s arms, when Lu Han was too tired and he needed an energy boost in form of kisses on the crown of his head and warm hands splashed on his back.
Lu Han misses Minseok even when he’s there with him, and the mere thought of having one of the most beautiful things that ever happened to him ruined like this is frightening, and that’s exactly why he can’t help but to be angry at Minseok too, who’s hiding in his house, behind this blue door, daring to doubt Lu Han’s love.
If he presses his ear to the wooden surface, he can hear sounds leaking; he recognizes the background music of the kiss episode in episode fourth and his heart breaks. There’s anger, but there’s so much love, the warmth that only Minseok’s presence an evoke, almost calling and pulling and urging him to destroy that door and come to take what’s his, and there’s a splitting worry at the thought of Minseok, alone and sad and in need of Lu Han’s comfort.
He rings the doorbell.
Lu Han is prepared to the sight of a messy Minseok, so he doesn’t let himself be swayed by the careless beauty that Minseok shows when he’s frail, traces of chocolate at the corner of his lip, too large pyjamas shirt low on the neck, barefoot and hair still splaying in every direction despite the fumbling fingers trying to untangle the knots. It takes away his breath every time he sees it, but he was expecting it, so he manages to react a fraction of second before Minseok, slipping his foot behind the wall and the door and jumping inside as soon as Minseok’s hold on the handle wavers.
They land in an uncomfortable heap of limbs.
Minseok is tenfold times worse than Lu Han thought. He scans at least three different magazines with Lu Han and Julia’s face only in the kitchen, Minseok’s hands tremble as he chooses the tea and he probably doesn’t even realize, but his eyes have been wet from the very first moment he saw Lu Han standing on his welcome mat. He expected him to be surly, and he is, but he’s also emotionally wrecked. Lu Han is still angry that Minseok didn’t have enough faith in him to just fucking wait to talk with him before hurting alone, but he’s also glad that things has come to this point because he wants to settle things between them once for all.
So he lets Minseok’s shouts fall over him, calmly explains what he feel. Kissing the girl? mocks his mind, as if I really need her when I have all of you and you’re only mine. He wraps himself around Minseok, exploiting the way that lithe body recognizes his own by instinct and doesn’t fight the intrusion, though he’s really sure its owner would only like to shove Lu Han’s limbs away. He feels the strain on his neck when he pushes his boyfriend down, on the table, and his lips chase Minseok’s forcing his head to bend at an unnatural angle. He lingers there, merely a breath away from plump lips.
They could kiss, and kiss again, until Minseok is relieved and satisfied and stuffed with so much pleasure that he won’t be able to speak, let alone question Lu Han’s behaviour.
But that would be a palliative, a scratch on the surface of a problem that Lu Han has always sensed right there, even if he never had the guts to face Minseok about it.
He draws away instead, he takes a step back as Minseok stands there, lips barely parted, fringe haphazardly falling over his long eyelashes. This is it, this is the turning point, he thinks, as he takes his coat still hanging in the tiny foyer, this is where Lu Han bets his heart. He’s always done the chase by himself, taking Minseok by his hands and bringing him back to his chest, and if Minseok still dares to question their relationship after all Lu Han has done for him, there’s nothing more he can do alone. He falters before opening the door. Minseok is even more frantic now, openly sniffing and looking like the world is ending, but Lu Han can’t do anything for him if Minseok doesn’t take the first step this time.
Just when he’s going to walk out of the apartment, Minseok shouts, “Wait!”
Lu Han is still turned and Minseok can’t see his expression, so he can smile and heave a sigh of relief. “Please,” begs Minseok, hand clamped tight on Lu Han’s wrist, “I believe you. Stay a little more.”
Extra Time
Lu Han steals a quick glance at his phone, where the umpteenth angry message from basically everyone has just joined the others in the unread box. He’s later than late, no one knows where he is, and they’re going to make him pay for this stunt. He doesn’t care if they cut his (to be honest already scandalous) wage or if the coach chains him to the bench for the rest of the season. Like they can afford to keep him out of the field when the next weekend they have a game that could bring them the cup. Ok, maybe it isn’t the best time to run around and miss practice, when everyone is too nervous and crushed by the weight of the mere four advantage points over Arsenal when they only have two games left before the ends of the League.
Lu Han is a professional, he should be on the training field with the rest of the team, but nothing in the world could convince him to leave Minseok’s side now. He threads his fingers in Minseok’s hair, petting the other boy’s head where it’s resting on his lap.
Minseok has long stopped crying, but Lu Han still can’t leave him alone, not when they’re talking for the first time in months. Not that they didn’t talk before, but this is different.
“I don’t want to feel like that anymore, Lu Han, I don’t want to doubt you,” says Minseok in a soft voice, and his head follow Lu Han’s retreating hand until it’s resting again his cheek again.
“But you don’t have to doubt me, you know I’d never… Minseok, you know how much I love you. And it hurts me to know you have this little faith in me.”
Minseok bites his lip, and Lu Han has to refrain himself from leaning down to do the same, the red mouth so tempting and sweet. “It’s just that…” he groans. “It’s really stupid, Han.”
He doesn’t want to urge him to talk, so he waits until Minseok is ready, doodling hearts on the boy’s scalp and cheek with his fingers to relax him. Minseok opens his mouth, close it, think again, and in the end he sighs, defeated.
“We've known each other since forever, and it’s not that I doubt your love, but you fell in love with me when we were so young, and you didn’t know anything else. You didn’t know any blond super tall model, but now you do, and maybe I’m afraid you’ll realize that I’m not that great of a catch. I mean, she’s so pretty and I…” He hasn’t finished talking but Lu Han’s hand is already on Minseok’s mouth, to stop this nonsensical blabbering before he can say some stupid thing about him not being pretty enough, or not sexy enough, or generically not enough.
Minseok bites him, and Lu Han’s hand moves upwards, covering his eyes so that Minseok doesn’t see him blushing. “Lu Han, I can’t see anything.” He doesn’t move his hand, and when Minseok tries to scratch his fingers away from his field of vision Lu Han traps his wrist in his other hand.
Minseok lies under him, “Are you angry?” he asks in the end.
“No, no. I think I wanna marry you.”
“Oh.”
Lu Han is really glad that Minseok’s eyes are covered now, because the blush is rapidly spreading, from his cheeks to his neck and ears, and he doesn’t want Minseok to laugh at his red face.
“It’s because,” he hastily spits out, “you’re having too many unnecessary doubts, and maybe I want to give you something real. I want you to have something to hold on when you’re feeling lost.”
And maybe Lu Han wants to have something to hold onto too, maybe he wants that ring to be the thread that ties his and Minseok’s fingers. Minseok is blushing too now, under his hands, and when he struggles to free his hands from Lu Han’s hold, he lets him. Minseok’s fingers are cool against his neck, but his face is warmer than Lu Han’s.
“I mean, you can trust me, you can always trust me. But I want everyone to know that you’re with me and I’m with you, so that they can’t go around making assumption that’ll only hurt us in the end. And I don’t want you to disappear on me. Ever again. You can avoid me if you want, but it still hurts me so much thinking that you wanted to go on with your life, cutting ties with me and never talking to me again-”
“I would’ve talked to you!” pleads Minseok with his little, broken voice, “I needed a moment, and this never happened before and I didn’t know how to deal with it. And I was so angry, and hurt, and I thought that you were tired of me already, so I needed a moment,” he says, raising his voice so that Lu Han doesn’t interrupt him. His lashes flutters under Lu Han’s palm like the wings of a butterfly, light and nervous. “But I would’ve called you, I would’ve come to look for you, and…”
He murmurs something, and Lu Han can’t make out his words, just an unsorted, muffled mumble.
“What? Minseok, I didn’t hear you.”
He tries to lift his hand from Minseok’s eyes, but little fingers stop him, keeping it pinned right where it is, splayed on the warm skin. Minseok repeats it, barely inaudible, but there, “I was waiting for you to come looking for me.”
Lu Han gulps, feeling ridiculous. Here they are, two full-grown men, they’ve been together for years and they still can’t talk freely about this kind of things. He wants to facepalm himself.
“But I came, right? I’m here. I’m not letting you go. You know that I am selfish and egoist, I only care about my own happiness. I ruined your friendship with that Park girl only to have you for myself, I convinced you to refuse the offer of that French university, even though their program was better than the one here in Manchester, only because I wanted you to live near me. But I don’t know if I want to throw you into the press claws, they’d ruin your life.”
“And what could they do? I’m so boring, you’re my only scandalous sin.”
“I’d still prefer if you came to live with me, you know, for privacy sake,” he says, leaning down to kiss the corner of Minseok’s mouth. “I’ll think about it,” it’s Minseok’s reply.
Penalty Shootout
Minseok groaned loudly on the bleachers as the host team scored a point after an intense middle-field game. It was not often that he managed to snatch a few hours away from university study and the part time job necessary to pay aforementioned university, but today he would’ve liked to stay home. He only came because he had promised it to an obnoxious Chinese boy.
Next to him, Jongdae cheered loudly, almost falling on the person sitting in front of him in the process. It was a little sad that the only person whom Minseok trusted to be on his side against Lu Han had taken a sudden and unexpected interest in football and was now sitting next to him, flailing his limbs and shouting, wearing Manchester United colours. Minseok asked himself how many deathly sins he had committed in his previous life to be cursed by the double doom of having both a best friend and a boyfriend, fiancé, corrected Lu Han in his mind with a infuriatingly smug voice, who loved more than anything else the only team he couldn’t stand.
He would’ve preferred to be at home rather than here, assisting at his boyfriend’s team glorious win. Ok, they were not winning, yet, but it was the last game of the season and it would’ve taken another single score to put the trophy in their hands. The crowd around him whistled and shouted when the referee pointed out a nasty foul, and Minseok scratched at the red scarf on his neck, asking himself if it was really really necessary on Lu Han’s part making him wear his team colours too.
The referee whistled, announcing a substitution for the opposing team, and the entire stadium exploded as Lu Han ran in the field, ready to shine.
They won, obviously, it was the only possible outcome. Lu Han was everywhere on the field, scoring, passing, defending, spinning like a whirligig back and forth. Even Minseok, despite his traditional antipathy for the team, had to admit that Manchester United had played like a single man and they really deserved to win. When the final whistle closed the game, and the league, delivering the victory to his boyfriend’s team, he cheered too, just a little bit. Because he was happy for Lu Han, nothing more.
“Did you wave your red flag Minseok? I thought you would've never betrayed your beliefs.”
Jongdae had shouted for his voice to be heard, and Minseok stuffed the flag inside his friend’s wide mouth, beaming in revenge.
“This way you’ll learn to shut up,” he said to a spluttering Jongdae.
Under the shiny lights of the Old Trafford Lu Han’s face looked even creepier as he smiled without restraints, showing his gums and shouting while his teammates threw him up in the air and hugged him in unappropriated places. Hands down, that dick is mine. Minseok was surprised at the little flair of jealousy he felt.
Then Lu Han was down, running under the bleachers to greet the fans, and…
“What. The. Fuck,” exclaimed Jongdae, his mouth so wide that his jaw could easily rest on his collarbones. Minseok froze, feeling his heartbeat accelerating as cold sweat run on his back making him shiver. People whispered loudly around them, and Jongdae elbowed him in the kidney, knocking the little air left out of his lungs until he was silently choking with his eyes still fixed on the field. He tried to recompose himself, not wanting to give Lu Han the satisfaction of seeing him like this, but he couldn’t move. His mind was jammed, stuck on the few Chinese characters printed on the shirt Lu Han was wearing under the red uniform shirt he had just thrown on the grass.
“Minseok,” muttered Jongdae trying to recover from the shock, “my Chinese skills are a little rusty, but isn’t that a marriage proposal next to your name on that shirt?”
Minseok only found the strength to inhale slowly, trying to clear the fog in his mind, before exhaling a thin “I am going to kill Lu Han.”
“Jongin called. He says that your entire neighbourhood is flooded with people with cameras and that he’ll kill you because you were fucking his celebrity crush and you didn’t even bring him a signed shirt.”
Minseok nodded, unable to snap out of his dazed state.
“Looks like they made the connection between your name and Lu Han’s visit to our university last week pretty fast, they even know your address. Are you sure you don’t want to camp on my couch for the time being? I don’t think you’ll make it into your apartment unharmed.”
Minseok nodded again, Jongdae’s voice merely a buzz. Well, goodbye discretion. When he and Lu Han had agreed to make their relationship a little more public he expected them to go out on a date or to be invited to a public event as Lu Han’s plus one. Not a declaration of love in the Theatre of Dreams packed with more than seventy thousands supporters during a game that half of Britain was currently watching, never mind the fact that it had probably been broadcasted abroad.
“May I help you?” said a well-known voice with a thick Canadian accent.
“Oh, Kevin,” he sighed, then seeing that Jongdae was admiring the tall stranger in awe and the tall stranger was literally undressing his friend in his mind, I always knew he had a thing for shorties, he made the necessary introductions. “This is Jongdae, a friend and colleague of mine. Jongdae, Kevin, Lu Han’s manager.”
“This is a pleasure,” said Kevin as he extended his hand, pronouncing the words with a low voice and never taking his eyes away from Jongdae. “Oh, no, the pleasure is mine,” said Jongdae licking his lips. Their handshake was so long and full of sexual tension that Minseok wanted to lie on the ground and die of embarrassment. Oh god, what have I done?
Coughing loudly to put an end to the slutty handshake, he turned towards Kevin, “Did you know he was going to pull a stunt like that and you came here to laugh at me?”
Kevin smiled evilly. “Looks like the surprise worked. You know, he’s lucky he’s talented, or else they would’ve kicked him out of the team for all of this drama. Anyway, I came here to offer you a lift. I can take you home if you want, the bodyguard will handle the paparazzi. Or you can stay with Han for a while, at least until the ruckus dies down.”
“I can’t believe it, he planned everything! He’s been asking me to move in with him this last week, but I never accepted, and now I can’t go home anyway.”
“Well, you’ll probably have half of England camping under your house in less than ten minutes. So is it decided? Perfect, I’ll call Zitao, you can go with him,” he said, nodding to a dark-haired boy whom Minseok knew was more Lu Han’s little brother rather than his bodyguard. “I can’t go with you unfortunately, someone has to take care of this precious boy here” he said, winking to Jongdae, who blushed but smirked back. Really, what have I done?
Zitao seemed to think the same thing, because he stared at Minseok accusingly as Kevin put a hand on Jongdae’s back to lead him towards his car, but immediately dropped it to his ass.
“What have you done, ge?” whined Zitao.
“I don’t know, kid, I don’t know.” He groaned, “Now take me to the lion’s lair.”
Minseok followed the rest of the press conference from Lu Han’s living room, splayed in a 100% Italian leather coach, watching the live HD version of his boyfriend’s ugly face on the technologic display, probably taller than Minseok, that covered the entire wall.
It wasn’t the first time that he visited Lu Han’s flat, and it wasn’t the first time that he thought, with a pang of annoyance, what a show-off.
Since he was there he ordered a pizza, deciding at the last moment to pay with a stack of money he had found in his boyfriend’s socks, and not with his own. Since Lu Han had basically kidnapped him - his house had been compromised thanks to that idiot, so he had no other choice than to stay with him - he thought it was only fair that he was using Lu Han’s money to eat. With that thought in mind he ordered, feeling vengeful, also the chips and, in a show of extreme evilness, a bottle of beer that he was perfectly aware he wouldn’t even drink. Ok, so maybe the chips were for Lu Han and the pizza he had ordered was his favourite.
He should’ve been furious, but he wasn’t and he couldn’t understand why anger wasn’t threatening to explode in his chest. Maybe he was just relieved that everything had turned up all right, in the end. The thought that Lu Han wasn’t ashamed of him, that he had been more than ready, excited even, to literally show his feelings on his chest for the world to read was flattering. He was obviously never going to admit it with Lu Han, or anyone else, he wouldn’t live to hear the end of it if he did, but under thick layers of shame, and embarrassment, and rage - because Lu Han couldn’t have done normal like the rest of the world, no, he had to surprise him with his cunning, devious little plan- he felt oddly proud that everyone knew exactly who Lu Han really belonged to.
Lu Han tiptoed into his house, almost expecting a shoe to fly towards his head the moment he stepped in the living room. Minseok was probably really angry, but Lu Han was particularly proud of his plan this time. He’d been begging Minseok to come and live with him, but the boy had been adamantine. Lu Han was used to always obtain what he wanted though, and a day or two of cold shower were definitely worth the benefits of having his Minseok at home every night.
The house was silent, and he was surprised that no one was there to assault him and demand revenge. The only trace of Minseok’s passage was a pillow lying forgotten on the couch, and half of a pizza coupled with chips and beer in the kitchen. Lu Han didn’t touch it, Minseok had the nasty habit to become very creative when he was mad. Who knew, maybe the pizza was poisoned.
He was far more worried that he hadn’t seen Minseok yet, and he was starting to think that the other boy had preferred listening to his pride and go home rather than follow Lu Han’s plan and stay there.
Only the bedroom was left, but he highly doubted that Minseok was there.
Lu Han had never been more wrong in his life. His boyfriend was indeed in the bedroom. Naked.
“You took your time,” called Minseok from the bed, where he was laying sprawled like a feast on the duvet, his crossed legs the things standing between Lu Han and his dick. Then he spread them, looking daringly at Lu Han. He stared, feeling his mouth watering.
“You’re not angry. Is this a plot to end my life? Is this the last wish before my decapitation? Is this the fastest way to kill me and leave no evidence? Because I must say, I’m dying to fuck you.”
Before he could stop himself he was eighteen years old again, stoned on the backside of Minseok’s car and blabbering apologies like an idiot in front of his teammate’s dick after an awkward drunken confession that had embarrassed him, Minseok, their friends and more or less the entire neighbourhood. Minseok had dragged him into his car, and Lu Han had thought he was going to strangle him, but Minseok had only kindly asked him if he could give him a blowjob and then he had dumped his girlfriend who wasn’t really his girlfriend to begin with but his cousin Joonmyeon and they weren’t kissing in the bathroom but he was pep talking her into casually greeting the head of the choir club Do Kyungsoo for whom she’d had an unbelievably deep crush since elementary school.
“Lu Han,” warned Minseok, “less talking, more fucking.” He spread his legs more with a devilish smirk, “Please.”
Lu Han could swear he heard the sound of his brain short-circuiting. “Can- Can I kiss you first?”
Minseok pretended to reflect about it, biting his lip thoughtfully, “Can I suck you first?”
He tripped on the words, feeling a bit like molasses was dripping into his mouth and preventing him from sounding intelligent. “Oh, well, go ahead then.”
Minseok crawled towards him, as Lu Han struggled to lose his pants. He licked him like a kitten, only lowering himself to suck when Lu Han begged. Lu Han’s hands fastened themselves on the sheets, in the useless attempt to relieve some of the tension on his body. The adrenaline in his blood sang when Minseok hummed around him. Dark, hooded eyes peered from under the messy fringe, and Lu Han wanted nothing more than to force his grip silky onto strands and pull, pull until Minseok was choking on him. He didn’t dare, and Minseok’s eyes seemed to laugh of his internal struggle.
He moaned when his boyfriend let his cock slip free, pushing Lu Han’s body until he was falling on the bed, only to straddle him and shove his tongue down his throat.
Minseok tasted like victory and triumph, or maybe Lu Han was simply tasting himself on the roof of his mouth. When his hands fell on Minseok’s perky bottom, circling his entrance, Minseok slapped them away, answering the interrogative look he was receiving with a haughty “I already took care of it myself. Besides, this is celebratory sex. You were really good today, holding that cup in your hands, almost sexy, I’d say.”
He wanted to protest, to answer that he was always sexy, thank you very much Kim Minseok, but the other boy shut him up, lowering himself on Lu Han’s erection, setting a devious pace, up and down. And maybe Lu Han had really turned into his eighteen years old self, because like ten years before he came impossibly fast and impossibly hard, with Minseok’s name in his lips and in his mind.
“If this is the way you reward me every time I utterly embarrass you in public, you can expect me to put my hands on your ass during a live broadcast next week.”
“You mean during the final game of the Champions League?” asked Minseok, curiosity shining in his eyes. Lu Han screamed internally in joy, realizing that for the first time he was going to gift Minseok a VIP ticket, one of the best seating places reserved for the players’ families.
“Or I could pull a Casillas stunt and kiss you in front of the camera after I’ve won the cup. What do you say?”
“Do that and I’ll make sure to ram that same tongue inside your ass before I fuck you.”
Lu Han couldn’t deny the shiver that ran across his back at Minseok’s words, but he also had to admit that his boyfriend didn’t seem particularly threatening right now, curled like a puppy against Lu Han’s body.
“Will you marry me?”
“Mmmh, not so soon. Your fans haven’t even begun to grasp the sad reality that you’re already engaged, we don’t want to kill all of their hopes yet. They interviewed one of them before, she doesn’t even know who I am but she’s giving us three weeks.”
“I kinda regret not coming out sooner, you know?”
Minseok let his tongue smack against the roof of his mouth, “I don’t. I enjoyed my privacy until now, but things were starting to get a little… You know. They said she was pregnant with your child, by the way.”
He pulled Minseok against his chest, to whisper in his ear, “Kim Minseok, were you jealous? Do you want to be the one who’ll bear my child instea- Hey, stop!” Tiny, deft hands ran on his sides making him squirm, and when he finally let go Minseok stabbed him with his elbow.
“What did I do in my past lives to deserve an asshole like you in this one?” he said, with a sigh.
“I don’t know,” answered Lu Han, resting his head on the crook of Minseok’s neck and nosing at his skin, “but whatever I did in my past lives to snatch someone like you in this one, stay assured that I’ll always do anything to keep you all for myself, I’m never letting you go.”
He took a deep breath, “Kim Minseok, do you want to marry-”
Minseok kissed his lips to shut him up.
Final Whistle
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A/N: I DID IT! why am i always this fashionably late for people bdays çç
-this is the strangest fic i've ever written and i'm sorry if the tenses are switched in the first and last part, it's because i wrote the first part of this fic months ago and i was too lazy to change it. i also sense with my doom super powers that there are a lot of typos and other mistakes, but since i'm so laty i'll edit everything when i have time (maybe)
-the meaning of the italian words in the title is extra time. also forgive me but i know close to nothing about football vocabulary in english, i only know the words in italian and i tried my best (thank you wikipedia) but i fear my void of ignorance cannot be filled like this, so there are probably a lot of inaccuracies. also, man united is close to win the league this year as i am close to win an english literature award, but here they win it for plot reasons (i'm sorry for liverpool who's currently leading premier league you have my utmost respect)
-the lemon sucks
-happy bday lu han sorry but the lemon sucks
-OT: i probably won't be able to write somthing for taozi's bday in time, but i have baekhyun's fic written since february so AT LEAST i won't be late for my bias' special day <3