心爱的 (beloved)
Title: 心爱的 (beloved)
Pairing: Luhan/Xiumin
Rating: G
Word count: ~3.2k
Summary: canon!verse
Note: a word vomit of all my xiuhan feels because of HC and this moment.
心爱的
(beloved)
Luhan’s childhood ends upon his initial taste of failure.
The bitterness is too much for fifteen year old Luhan, who had his hopes set on bearing the red and gold of Manchester United, to bear. The rancidness tracks hot tears down his face and transpires as a week of cowering beneath his covers.
He stops playing soccer all together for a fortnight (which is more than what any boy his age could manage) and severs all ties with his best friend who had secured the last position on the national team.
Looking back, he’s ashamed for wallowing within himself and turning his back on his friend instead of congratulating him and sharing in that same happiness. Even if smiling beside him meant smiling from a distance, Luhan finds himself wondering on sleepless nights what would have happened if he had just tried.
But with one life-changing decision, days spent running hand in hand beneath the blazing summer sun, afternoons spent swapping spoonfuls of plain rice with boxes of milk, and evenings spent squatting with their hands behind their heads for graffiting Lee lao shi’s windscreen are gone.
All that’s beautiful wilts, stripped bare like the leafless trees immersed in winter snow to make way for the spring -- a new beginning within a new year.
And Luhan’s new beginning starts in a country far from home. He invests in a dream that stems from entirely different roots; a dream that will be nurtured by the encouragement of a foreign language and the smiles of complete strangers.
✖ O ✖ O
“My dream is to be a singer,”
Luhan remembers that sentence well. It’s embedded in his mind; the way he had stumbled over the phrase and had replayed it throughout the entire day just prior to his audition with SM Entertainment after he had been scouted.
Honestly, it isn’t particularly difficult to pronounce but somehow it had felt odd on the tip of his tongue. He had pestered his roommate endlessly to repeat those same words for him until the boy huffed and threw his phone at him with a recorded version of the sentence.
But, miraculously, those endless mock rehearsals in front of the mirror until all he envisioned was the way the muscles of his face would contract convincingly (enough) alongside those words, Luhan passed.
✖ O ✖ O
“Do you want to become a singer too?” had been the first question a friendly trainee had asked him at his first dance class.
His unscuffed sneakers had been squeaky against the polished floors and he still didn’t know how to move his limbs to his reflection in the mirrored walls but Luhan had replied, “yes, very much so”, biting the inside of his bottom lip where he hopes the boy wouldn’t notice.
But even if he did, the boy hadn’t paid it any heed.
“Cool,” he had said, instead, flashing a gummy smile, “I’m Minseok, by the way, what’s your name?”
“Luhan,” he had replied, smiling shyly, thulian dusting his cheeks.
And that's all it took for something infinitesimally beautiful to blossom from within that simple exchange of names and unhindered smiles.
✖ O ✖ O
There are a multitude of trainees in SM but there’s no one quite like Minseok.
Even within the exo debutees alone, there’s Sehun who is the younger brother he had never had; the boy with eyes that shine with reverence and smiles that speak of affection when they share giggles over bubble tea. There’s Yixing, Tao and Kris who are as close as he can get to home within Seoul. Baekhyun alongside Chanyeol whose unlimited playfulness and uncontainable energy remind him of the carelessness of his long-lost childhood. Kyungsoo and Joonmyun who are the meaningful “再见” and “我爱你” his parents whisper through the phone in two completely different but complementary tones. There's Jongin and Jongdae; the talents he tries to mimic, the goal he strives for and the dreams he yearns to fulfill.
But no matter how important the other ten are, there’s only one Minseok; Minseok that Luhan searches for, Minseok that Luhan can’t replace, can’t compromise and won’t exchange for all the world.
He might not share his love for bubble tea in the way that Sehun does, but they find themselves racing each other to finish the biggest bowls of rice or sneaking into the kitchen when it’s well past midnight to cook ramyeon in the dark only to be reprimanded for how bloated they look the following morning.
He might be Korean to bone but Minseok’s arms are the one he falls into when he feels homesick just to be reminded of that same tingling warmth of returning home, during a particularly rough spell of Beijing’s winter blizzards, to find the heaters and subdued amber lights burning.
There might be only a month’s difference between them but Minseok acts like the immature younger as much as he is the nurturing older and comprehending same-aged friend.
Minseok is the one who would laugh at, and tolerate, his antics. He’s the only one who knows the limits of Luhan’s patience and knows the right amount pressure to massage into his aching shoulders and arms after six hours of practice. He’s the only one who would make fun of his mispronunciations and patiently listen to him correct his mistakes and recite those words over and over when everyone else is fast asleep.
Minseok is the pillar of support and the merciful refuge that Luhan needs when he’s too weak to stand on his own two feet. He’s there through the tears of frustration and the sweat of grueling hours of effort. He's beside him during all this to remind him of his dreams until Luhan can only feel the blood of determination flow in the veins that lie deep within him, extinguishing all that washes over his exterior.
And in the two years since his audition, there’s no one else who has taught him what it means to say 'my dream is to become a singer' with conviction. He's the only one who has taught him that passion means stretching both hands skywards until you’re on the tip of toes with your eyes focused on the stars above.
But most importantly, within Minseok, Luhan finds the safety net and understanding he needs because he trusts in what they have established within these few short years.
It’s unfair to make such comparisons, but he believes in this more than he had believed in his best friend back when he was fifteen because he knows Minseok will never leave him behind; he knows that Minseok needs him equally as much.
When the company had instructed Minseok to find a Chinese equivalent of his name, Luhan knows that he had been the first person that Minseok had turned to; not Yixing, Kris nor Tao. And in the times when Minseok finds himself lost in the exchange of foreign words beneath the floodlights of their stage in Changsa or Beijing, it’s Luhan’s ear he whispers into for help; it's Luhan's voice he searches for. And in the moments when Minseok is longing for the familiarity of Korea and the solidity of Seoul beneath his feet, it’s Luhan’s embrace he settles into and it’s Luhan’s scent he inhales to push him homeward.
Luhan doesn’t think it’s love in the traditional sense (neither of them do). It isn’t the type of love that fairytales speak of and teenagers gush over. But every time Minseok is by his side (and Luhan is by Minseok’s side), they link hands and believe that this is so much more than friendship.
It’s as undefined as intangibility can be, flitting with questionable gestures, glances that linger far too long and secrets that are whispered in a language only they can understand.
But Luhan reckons they sum it up pretty well when he says, "mine” and Minseok responds with, “yours”.
✖ O ✖ O
So when the host of Happy Camp asks them carry a member as a test of strength and endurance, Luhan’s first thought is Minseok. And the first hand he grabs onto is Minseok’s despite the flicker of disappointment in Sehun’s eyes that wasn’t missed by Tao who experimentally whisks the psychedelic haired boy off his feet and into his own arms.
The fact that Luhan picks Minseok without so much as a second thought comes as no surprise to anyone even if the fans scream louder when they catch a glimpse of Luhan’s arm wrap possessively around Minseok’s waist, trapping him by his side.
“Let’s show the rest of them that the hyungs still have it,” he whispers in his excitement, competitiveness shining entrancingly in both eyes.
He revels in the way Minseok gazes briefly up at him, biting his bottom lip in a way that makes Luhan want to be the braver and the stronger of the two.
“But I’m still heavy,” he hisses as he tries to wriggle out of Luhan’s grasp, “I’m not that much lighter than I was before I lost all the weight. Choose another member,”
Luhan rolls his eyes at him and only pulls him closer, lips hovering centimeters away from his ear in a way that makes Minseok subconsciously squirm all the more.
“No. I want you,” he whispers with the most inconspicuous hint of a pout that Minseok can visualise from the tone of voice even without seeing the expression, “And stop worrying about your weight. I hate that you’ve lost your cheeks, I want my baozi back,”
It's Minseok’s turn to roll his eyes, easing himself back to look at Luhan properly.
If it were Sehun or Jongin, Luhan’s pout would mimicked straight back at him. If the person in his arms was as stern or as stoic as Kris is in public, he would have given him a frown of incredulity. If it was someone as patiently understanding and compromising as Joonmyun or Kyungsoo are, the person he holds so close to himself would have given him a playful scowl that would melt into an appreciative smile not a moment later to thank him for worrying and to reassure him of his well-being. If they were anything like Baekhyun or Jongdae, the one he holds flush against his side would come up with some biting remark. And if they were the least bit similar to Chanyeol or Yixing, they would blink twice before dismissing his comments with an eruption of laughter.
But the breath ghosting across his cheek and the warmth he feels seeping through the thick material of his jumper isn’t anyone else’s but Minseok’s. And Minseok doesn’t respond like the others; he doesn’t treat Luhan like the others do. He doesn’t show any hint of displeasure, sarcasm or dismissal. Instead, Minseok puffs his cheeks out and pokes playfully at his face until Luhan is the one laughing and prodding Minseok’s protruding cheeks.
“Baozi!” he exclaims, clasping both his hands over Minseok’s to press his cheeks together effectively deflating them.
“My pretty boazi!” he teases with an open-mouthed smile.
Minseok mutters, “idiot, you’re such a kid”, as he prods Luhan’s supple sides, aiming for that sensitive spot beneath Luhan’s ribs Minseok had stumbled upon by accident when he had pushed Luhan onto his bed for tickling him.
Luhan jumps and they part with Minseok’s lips curling coyly at his reaction.
Luhan raises a hand to smack Minseok's bare arms (with the intention of leaving bright red marks) but not a moment later, the host speaks up over the unsettled chatter of their fans.
“exo are you ready for this great battle of strength? Which one of you will be able to last the longest, I wonder?”
There’s a cheer from the crowd as the members side glance and jeer at the opposing pairs playfully.
The host grins and points his microphone towards their fans, cupping a hand over his ear after he asks, “who do you think will win?”
Luhan can hear ‘xiumin, luhan’ faintly above ‘kris, baekhyun’ and ‘zitao, sehun’ and he smiles at Minseok who meets his eye with a smile that’s all gums and teeth.
It’s the smile that makes his heart swell because it’s that smile Minseok makes when he isn’t worrying about slimming camera angles or the focus of that blinking red light. It’s the smile he wears when they hide beneath the covers whilst watching the soccer highlights well past their bedtime or when they tumble in the grass after Minseok tackles him to ground in an attempt to intercept the ball.
It’s a smile that’s as genuine as genuine can be without exception, without pretense and Luhan finds that he’s losing himself in that expression as he hauls Minseok effortlessly up in the air.
“Luhan!” Minseok yelps, smile dissolving when he’s unexpectedly held a meter off the floor.
He does his best to keep still as Luhan holds him, one arm behind his knees and the other protectively around his back. He’s frowning rather apprehensively, eyes darting between Luhan and the floor, as he circles his arms around Luhan’s shoulders.
“Don’t let go, okay?” he whispers, warm breath fanning against Luhan’s cheek.
Luhan can see the way his lips quiver ever so slightly, a habit he has when he’s nervous, and he can’t help but think he’s so very pretty from this angle.
“I won’t,” Luhan scoffs, eyes alight with a determination he demonstrates by digging his fingers just that bit further into Minseok’s thigh and side.
“Ow,” Minseok huffs, pressing his fingers into Luhan’s shoulder with equal amounts of pressure.
Luhan lets out a chuckle before he juggles Minseok in his arms to find that perfect equilibrium. He lifts him unnecessarily higher, as an act of revenge, and Minseok lets out another strangled yelp before burying his face against Luhan’s neck.
“Idiot,” Minseok grumbles into his skin but Luhan simply hums in satisfaction and presses his cheek against Minseok’s, closer and closer still.
From this position, Minseok’s ginger hair tickles his nape and his every exhale brushes against the parts his hair can’t reach; the areas that are hidden beneath the bandana that’s tied around his neck.
Shivers rile up and down his spine in sync with Minseok’s breaths and his skin crawls in some bizarre but indescribably good way. He’s pretty sure his heart is beating at some embarrassing rate that is entirely audible to Minseok with the way the side of his face fits so snuggly in that juncture between his neck and shoulder. But if he can hear it, Minseok doesn’t pass comment and simply rests his lips against Luhan’s thundering pulse.
He thinks it’s ironic that Minseok is capable of seeping into every recess, every pore to affect his very being even in the most insignificant and minute things. But ever since he had been found two years ago in the basement practise room, Minseok has never stopped meaning just that bit extra.
“We must win okay?” he says quietly and the way Minseok’s mouth moves against his skin has Luhan’s mouth going dry, his breath catching in his throat and resolve running strong within his gut.
At the thirty second mark and after the tenth squat, Luhan starts to tire. Chanyeol has long given up on carrying Kyungsoo, moaning about too many serves of kimchi spaghetti (rather than his bony arms).
But Luhan won’t admit defeat. He grits his teeth and bites down on his bottom lip to ebb away the searing pain. His knuckles turn white as he holds onto Minseok as if his life -- their lives -- depended on it.
A few seconds later, when Kris looks like he’s on the verge of dropping Baekhyun and Jongin is trying to mock resuscitate a collapsed Joonmyun, Luhan chokes into the shell of Minseok’s ear to distract himself from the burn in his biceps and quadriceps.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” Minseok responds without missing a beat.
There’s not an ounce of doubt in his voice, as he clings onto Luhan a little tighter and nuzzles further into him as if he knows that Luhan is struggling to hold up both their weight.
Luhan smiles and inhales, looking skyward to steady himself.
He's so grateful that it's Minseok he's holding in his arms because Minseok has always known what to say. He understands him like no other and his answers have always been the ones that Luhan need.
✖ O ✖ O
That night back at the hotel, there’s no misunderstanding, no questionable lilt of the lips or a doubtful arch of an eyebrow when Luhan tugs at Minseok’s wrist as soon as he steps out of the bathroom.
He’s dressed plainly in a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His hair hangs over his eyes, still a little damp from his shower. But out of all the moments they’ve been through, he likes this Minseok the most; Minseok who is so supple, a little tired and unafraid of skipping over fanciful facades. Because it's the Minseok that no one else sees and no camera can capture. It’s the Minseok that's reserved for Luhan -- entirely and only for him.
And it's this Minseok that Luhan pulls into bed that night requesting in hushed tones, “sleep with me”.
People would normally quirk an eyeybrow at his request but Minseok understands. He understands Luhan without passing judgement or stressing over misinterpretations.
His smile is tender when he crawls compliantly beneath the sheets causing the mattress to release a subdued creak as it dips under their combined weight. He says nothing as he fits Luhan’s lengthy body against his shorter stature, tucking the top of Luhan’s burgundy locks beneath his chin and wrapping Luhan’s legs around his calves.
“Reward for not dropping me?” Minseok asks as an afterthought, voice thick with fatigue.
Luhan laughs incredulously because Minseok had promised him bubble tea and he had always claimed that he didn’t like anyone else in his bed.
But when he buries his nose against Minseok’s chest and inhales his sweet scent of sakura blossoms that’s now laced with a hint of acetone from his painted nails, he thinks that this will do because there’s no one like Minseok, there’s no one like himself and no two people who understand the other better than they do.
He balls his hands into the front of Minseok’s shirt and pulls him closer so that neither of them will tumble off the narrow bed. And Luhan is all smiles when Minseok does so too, drawing nearer and holding him closer until there’s no breathing space between them.
✖ O ✖ O
People will ask Luhan about his beliefs, about love, about his dreams. People will question his motivation, his determination and his goals.
But even if no one asks and no one stimulates that thought, Luhan already has all the answers. Luhan is already prepared and his response will always be the same.
He only has to look in Minseok’s direction to find all the answers he needs because Minseok is everything he believes in, everything he loves. He’s someone who shares the same aspirations, someone who encourages him and points him in the right direction.
They travel on separate paths but parallel paths that lie beneath the same stars and lead towards the same goal.
And most importantly, Minseok will always be his answer because Minseok, who is here to stay, makes him believe in the impossible.
✖ O ✖ O
“心爱的,” he’ll say, smiling up at him, “we are one,”
“사랑스러운,” he’ll respond, smiling down at him, “we are. Of course we are,"
a/n:
- XIUHAN FEELS EVERYWHERE!
- feels are overflowing for a multitude of reasons, namely HC.
- i’ve been wanting to attempt a canon verse for a while now and i regret nothing \O/
- also, i apologise for any inaccuracies x___x feel free to correct and educate me ^^
______________________
1. 再见 = see you again
2. 我爱你 = i love you
3. 心爱的 = 사랑스러운 = beloved
Pairing: Luhan/Xiumin
Rating: G
Word count: ~3.2k
Summary: canon!verse
Note: a word vomit of all my xiuhan feels because of HC and this moment.
心爱的
(beloved)
Luhan’s childhood ends upon his initial taste of failure.
The bitterness is too much for fifteen year old Luhan, who had his hopes set on bearing the red and gold of Manchester United, to bear. The rancidness tracks hot tears down his face and transpires as a week of cowering beneath his covers.
He stops playing soccer all together for a fortnight (which is more than what any boy his age could manage) and severs all ties with his best friend who had secured the last position on the national team.
Looking back, he’s ashamed for wallowing within himself and turning his back on his friend instead of congratulating him and sharing in that same happiness. Even if smiling beside him meant smiling from a distance, Luhan finds himself wondering on sleepless nights what would have happened if he had just tried.
But with one life-changing decision, days spent running hand in hand beneath the blazing summer sun, afternoons spent swapping spoonfuls of plain rice with boxes of milk, and evenings spent squatting with their hands behind their heads for graffiting Lee lao shi’s windscreen are gone.
All that’s beautiful wilts, stripped bare like the leafless trees immersed in winter snow to make way for the spring -- a new beginning within a new year.
And Luhan’s new beginning starts in a country far from home. He invests in a dream that stems from entirely different roots; a dream that will be nurtured by the encouragement of a foreign language and the smiles of complete strangers.
✖ O ✖ O
“My dream is to be a singer,”
Luhan remembers that sentence well. It’s embedded in his mind; the way he had stumbled over the phrase and had replayed it throughout the entire day just prior to his audition with SM Entertainment after he had been scouted.
Honestly, it isn’t particularly difficult to pronounce but somehow it had felt odd on the tip of his tongue. He had pestered his roommate endlessly to repeat those same words for him until the boy huffed and threw his phone at him with a recorded version of the sentence.
But, miraculously, those endless mock rehearsals in front of the mirror until all he envisioned was the way the muscles of his face would contract convincingly (enough) alongside those words, Luhan passed.
✖ O ✖ O
“Do you want to become a singer too?” had been the first question a friendly trainee had asked him at his first dance class.
His unscuffed sneakers had been squeaky against the polished floors and he still didn’t know how to move his limbs to his reflection in the mirrored walls but Luhan had replied, “yes, very much so”, biting the inside of his bottom lip where he hopes the boy wouldn’t notice.
But even if he did, the boy hadn’t paid it any heed.
“Cool,” he had said, instead, flashing a gummy smile, “I’m Minseok, by the way, what’s your name?”
“Luhan,” he had replied, smiling shyly, thulian dusting his cheeks.
And that's all it took for something infinitesimally beautiful to blossom from within that simple exchange of names and unhindered smiles.
✖ O ✖ O
There are a multitude of trainees in SM but there’s no one quite like Minseok.
Even within the exo debutees alone, there’s Sehun who is the younger brother he had never had; the boy with eyes that shine with reverence and smiles that speak of affection when they share giggles over bubble tea. There’s Yixing, Tao and Kris who are as close as he can get to home within Seoul. Baekhyun alongside Chanyeol whose unlimited playfulness and uncontainable energy remind him of the carelessness of his long-lost childhood. Kyungsoo and Joonmyun who are the meaningful “再见” and “我爱你” his parents whisper through the phone in two completely different but complementary tones. There's Jongin and Jongdae; the talents he tries to mimic, the goal he strives for and the dreams he yearns to fulfill.
But no matter how important the other ten are, there’s only one Minseok; Minseok that Luhan searches for, Minseok that Luhan can’t replace, can’t compromise and won’t exchange for all the world.
He might not share his love for bubble tea in the way that Sehun does, but they find themselves racing each other to finish the biggest bowls of rice or sneaking into the kitchen when it’s well past midnight to cook ramyeon in the dark only to be reprimanded for how bloated they look the following morning.
He might be Korean to bone but Minseok’s arms are the one he falls into when he feels homesick just to be reminded of that same tingling warmth of returning home, during a particularly rough spell of Beijing’s winter blizzards, to find the heaters and subdued amber lights burning.
There might be only a month’s difference between them but Minseok acts like the immature younger as much as he is the nurturing older and comprehending same-aged friend.
Minseok is the one who would laugh at, and tolerate, his antics. He’s the only one who knows the limits of Luhan’s patience and knows the right amount pressure to massage into his aching shoulders and arms after six hours of practice. He’s the only one who would make fun of his mispronunciations and patiently listen to him correct his mistakes and recite those words over and over when everyone else is fast asleep.
Minseok is the pillar of support and the merciful refuge that Luhan needs when he’s too weak to stand on his own two feet. He’s there through the tears of frustration and the sweat of grueling hours of effort. He's beside him during all this to remind him of his dreams until Luhan can only feel the blood of determination flow in the veins that lie deep within him, extinguishing all that washes over his exterior.
And in the two years since his audition, there’s no one else who has taught him what it means to say 'my dream is to become a singer' with conviction. He's the only one who has taught him that passion means stretching both hands skywards until you’re on the tip of toes with your eyes focused on the stars above.
But most importantly, within Minseok, Luhan finds the safety net and understanding he needs because he trusts in what they have established within these few short years.
It’s unfair to make such comparisons, but he believes in this more than he had believed in his best friend back when he was fifteen because he knows Minseok will never leave him behind; he knows that Minseok needs him equally as much.
When the company had instructed Minseok to find a Chinese equivalent of his name, Luhan knows that he had been the first person that Minseok had turned to; not Yixing, Kris nor Tao. And in the times when Minseok finds himself lost in the exchange of foreign words beneath the floodlights of their stage in Changsa or Beijing, it’s Luhan’s ear he whispers into for help; it's Luhan's voice he searches for. And in the moments when Minseok is longing for the familiarity of Korea and the solidity of Seoul beneath his feet, it’s Luhan’s embrace he settles into and it’s Luhan’s scent he inhales to push him homeward.
Luhan doesn’t think it’s love in the traditional sense (neither of them do). It isn’t the type of love that fairytales speak of and teenagers gush over. But every time Minseok is by his side (and Luhan is by Minseok’s side), they link hands and believe that this is so much more than friendship.
It’s as undefined as intangibility can be, flitting with questionable gestures, glances that linger far too long and secrets that are whispered in a language only they can understand.
But Luhan reckons they sum it up pretty well when he says, "mine” and Minseok responds with, “yours”.
✖ O ✖ O
So when the host of Happy Camp asks them carry a member as a test of strength and endurance, Luhan’s first thought is Minseok. And the first hand he grabs onto is Minseok’s despite the flicker of disappointment in Sehun’s eyes that wasn’t missed by Tao who experimentally whisks the psychedelic haired boy off his feet and into his own arms.
The fact that Luhan picks Minseok without so much as a second thought comes as no surprise to anyone even if the fans scream louder when they catch a glimpse of Luhan’s arm wrap possessively around Minseok’s waist, trapping him by his side.
“Let’s show the rest of them that the hyungs still have it,” he whispers in his excitement, competitiveness shining entrancingly in both eyes.
He revels in the way Minseok gazes briefly up at him, biting his bottom lip in a way that makes Luhan want to be the braver and the stronger of the two.
“But I’m still heavy,” he hisses as he tries to wriggle out of Luhan’s grasp, “I’m not that much lighter than I was before I lost all the weight. Choose another member,”
Luhan rolls his eyes at him and only pulls him closer, lips hovering centimeters away from his ear in a way that makes Minseok subconsciously squirm all the more.
“No. I want you,” he whispers with the most inconspicuous hint of a pout that Minseok can visualise from the tone of voice even without seeing the expression, “And stop worrying about your weight. I hate that you’ve lost your cheeks, I want my baozi back,”
It's Minseok’s turn to roll his eyes, easing himself back to look at Luhan properly.
If it were Sehun or Jongin, Luhan’s pout would mimicked straight back at him. If the person in his arms was as stern or as stoic as Kris is in public, he would have given him a frown of incredulity. If it was someone as patiently understanding and compromising as Joonmyun or Kyungsoo are, the person he holds so close to himself would have given him a playful scowl that would melt into an appreciative smile not a moment later to thank him for worrying and to reassure him of his well-being. If they were anything like Baekhyun or Jongdae, the one he holds flush against his side would come up with some biting remark. And if they were the least bit similar to Chanyeol or Yixing, they would blink twice before dismissing his comments with an eruption of laughter.
But the breath ghosting across his cheek and the warmth he feels seeping through the thick material of his jumper isn’t anyone else’s but Minseok’s. And Minseok doesn’t respond like the others; he doesn’t treat Luhan like the others do. He doesn’t show any hint of displeasure, sarcasm or dismissal. Instead, Minseok puffs his cheeks out and pokes playfully at his face until Luhan is the one laughing and prodding Minseok’s protruding cheeks.
“Baozi!” he exclaims, clasping both his hands over Minseok’s to press his cheeks together effectively deflating them.
“My pretty boazi!” he teases with an open-mouthed smile.
Minseok mutters, “idiot, you’re such a kid”, as he prods Luhan’s supple sides, aiming for that sensitive spot beneath Luhan’s ribs Minseok had stumbled upon by accident when he had pushed Luhan onto his bed for tickling him.
Luhan jumps and they part with Minseok’s lips curling coyly at his reaction.
Luhan raises a hand to smack Minseok's bare arms (with the intention of leaving bright red marks) but not a moment later, the host speaks up over the unsettled chatter of their fans.
“exo are you ready for this great battle of strength? Which one of you will be able to last the longest, I wonder?”
There’s a cheer from the crowd as the members side glance and jeer at the opposing pairs playfully.
The host grins and points his microphone towards their fans, cupping a hand over his ear after he asks, “who do you think will win?”
Luhan can hear ‘xiumin, luhan’ faintly above ‘kris, baekhyun’ and ‘zitao, sehun’ and he smiles at Minseok who meets his eye with a smile that’s all gums and teeth.
It’s the smile that makes his heart swell because it’s that smile Minseok makes when he isn’t worrying about slimming camera angles or the focus of that blinking red light. It’s the smile he wears when they hide beneath the covers whilst watching the soccer highlights well past their bedtime or when they tumble in the grass after Minseok tackles him to ground in an attempt to intercept the ball.
It’s a smile that’s as genuine as genuine can be without exception, without pretense and Luhan finds that he’s losing himself in that expression as he hauls Minseok effortlessly up in the air.
“Luhan!” Minseok yelps, smile dissolving when he’s unexpectedly held a meter off the floor.
He does his best to keep still as Luhan holds him, one arm behind his knees and the other protectively around his back. He’s frowning rather apprehensively, eyes darting between Luhan and the floor, as he circles his arms around Luhan’s shoulders.
“Don’t let go, okay?” he whispers, warm breath fanning against Luhan’s cheek.
Luhan can see the way his lips quiver ever so slightly, a habit he has when he’s nervous, and he can’t help but think he’s so very pretty from this angle.
“I won’t,” Luhan scoffs, eyes alight with a determination he demonstrates by digging his fingers just that bit further into Minseok’s thigh and side.
“Ow,” Minseok huffs, pressing his fingers into Luhan’s shoulder with equal amounts of pressure.
Luhan lets out a chuckle before he juggles Minseok in his arms to find that perfect equilibrium. He lifts him unnecessarily higher, as an act of revenge, and Minseok lets out another strangled yelp before burying his face against Luhan’s neck.
“Idiot,” Minseok grumbles into his skin but Luhan simply hums in satisfaction and presses his cheek against Minseok’s, closer and closer still.
From this position, Minseok’s ginger hair tickles his nape and his every exhale brushes against the parts his hair can’t reach; the areas that are hidden beneath the bandana that’s tied around his neck.
Shivers rile up and down his spine in sync with Minseok’s breaths and his skin crawls in some bizarre but indescribably good way. He’s pretty sure his heart is beating at some embarrassing rate that is entirely audible to Minseok with the way the side of his face fits so snuggly in that juncture between his neck and shoulder. But if he can hear it, Minseok doesn’t pass comment and simply rests his lips against Luhan’s thundering pulse.
He thinks it’s ironic that Minseok is capable of seeping into every recess, every pore to affect his very being even in the most insignificant and minute things. But ever since he had been found two years ago in the basement practise room, Minseok has never stopped meaning just that bit extra.
“We must win okay?” he says quietly and the way Minseok’s mouth moves against his skin has Luhan’s mouth going dry, his breath catching in his throat and resolve running strong within his gut.
At the thirty second mark and after the tenth squat, Luhan starts to tire. Chanyeol has long given up on carrying Kyungsoo, moaning about too many serves of kimchi spaghetti (rather than his bony arms).
But Luhan won’t admit defeat. He grits his teeth and bites down on his bottom lip to ebb away the searing pain. His knuckles turn white as he holds onto Minseok as if his life -- their lives -- depended on it.
A few seconds later, when Kris looks like he’s on the verge of dropping Baekhyun and Jongin is trying to mock resuscitate a collapsed Joonmyun, Luhan chokes into the shell of Minseok’s ear to distract himself from the burn in his biceps and quadriceps.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” Minseok responds without missing a beat.
There’s not an ounce of doubt in his voice, as he clings onto Luhan a little tighter and nuzzles further into him as if he knows that Luhan is struggling to hold up both their weight.
Luhan smiles and inhales, looking skyward to steady himself.
He's so grateful that it's Minseok he's holding in his arms because Minseok has always known what to say. He understands him like no other and his answers have always been the ones that Luhan need.
✖ O ✖ O
That night back at the hotel, there’s no misunderstanding, no questionable lilt of the lips or a doubtful arch of an eyebrow when Luhan tugs at Minseok’s wrist as soon as he steps out of the bathroom.
He’s dressed plainly in a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His hair hangs over his eyes, still a little damp from his shower. But out of all the moments they’ve been through, he likes this Minseok the most; Minseok who is so supple, a little tired and unafraid of skipping over fanciful facades. Because it's the Minseok that no one else sees and no camera can capture. It’s the Minseok that's reserved for Luhan -- entirely and only for him.
And it's this Minseok that Luhan pulls into bed that night requesting in hushed tones, “sleep with me”.
People would normally quirk an eyeybrow at his request but Minseok understands. He understands Luhan without passing judgement or stressing over misinterpretations.
His smile is tender when he crawls compliantly beneath the sheets causing the mattress to release a subdued creak as it dips under their combined weight. He says nothing as he fits Luhan’s lengthy body against his shorter stature, tucking the top of Luhan’s burgundy locks beneath his chin and wrapping Luhan’s legs around his calves.
“Reward for not dropping me?” Minseok asks as an afterthought, voice thick with fatigue.
Luhan laughs incredulously because Minseok had promised him bubble tea and he had always claimed that he didn’t like anyone else in his bed.
But when he buries his nose against Minseok’s chest and inhales his sweet scent of sakura blossoms that’s now laced with a hint of acetone from his painted nails, he thinks that this will do because there’s no one like Minseok, there’s no one like himself and no two people who understand the other better than they do.
He balls his hands into the front of Minseok’s shirt and pulls him closer so that neither of them will tumble off the narrow bed. And Luhan is all smiles when Minseok does so too, drawing nearer and holding him closer until there’s no breathing space between them.
✖ O ✖ O
People will ask Luhan about his beliefs, about love, about his dreams. People will question his motivation, his determination and his goals.
But even if no one asks and no one stimulates that thought, Luhan already has all the answers. Luhan is already prepared and his response will always be the same.
He only has to look in Minseok’s direction to find all the answers he needs because Minseok is everything he believes in, everything he loves. He’s someone who shares the same aspirations, someone who encourages him and points him in the right direction.
They travel on separate paths but parallel paths that lie beneath the same stars and lead towards the same goal.
And most importantly, Minseok will always be his answer because Minseok, who is here to stay, makes him believe in the impossible.
✖ O ✖ O
“心爱的,” he’ll say, smiling up at him, “we are one,”
“사랑스러운,” he’ll respond, smiling down at him, “we are. Of course we are,"
a/n:
- XIUHAN FEELS EVERYWHERE!
- feels are overflowing for a multitude of reasons, namely HC.
- i’ve been wanting to attempt a canon verse for a while now and i regret nothing \O/
- also, i apologise for any inaccuracies x___x feel free to correct and educate me ^^
______________________
1. 再见 = see you again
2. 我爱你 = i love you
3. 心爱的 = 사랑스러운 = beloved