i'll bring you home
title: i'll bring you home
pairing: luhan/jongin
rating: pg-13
word count: about 6.7k words
summary: in this story, jongin brings luhan home.
note: written for mapofwords for deerofdawn 2014!
Luhan leans back into his chair and stretches his legs, stifling a yawn. He closes the paperback that he has just read, slowly looking around at the nearly empty café. There is that cute barista again, the one with the cool name. Kai. He looks very nice, too, tanned skin and the most beautiful smile on plump, plump lips when he -
“You're a fast reader.” Luhan looks up and is greeted by the said Kai. He gapes at the other boy for a few seconds, speechless. Kai smiles and cocks an eyebrow, “What?”
Luhan closes his mouth and clears his throat. He must have looked utterly stupid in front of Kai. “N-nothing. Yes, yes, I read fast.” Kai smiles once more, an amused one this time. Luhan mentally slaps himself.
“You done with this?” Kai asks, fingers dancing along the edges of Luhan's tray of empty coffee cups.
“Yes,” Luhan breathes, suddenly drawn to Kai's strong-looking arms and large palms. He gulps. “Yes, yes. I'm done.”
Kai nods and wordlessly picks up the tray, before going behind the counter. Luhan buries his face in his hands, inwardly chiding himself for possibly blowing his only chance at picking up the hot barista with the megawatt smile - after weeks and weeks of frequenting Black Pearl for its delicious coffee (and delicious looking Kai, of course), he has only just managed to stutter like a fool. No wonder he is still completely single. Dejected, he slowly packs his things and stands up to leave the café.
“Hey,” a voice sounds making Luhan stop in his tracks. He looks around and wonders if the voice is talking to him before realising that it is Kai. “You should try reading My Way Home. From the same author of the book you were reading just now.” He points at Luhan's bag.
The fact that Kai notices the books that Luhan reads is enough to make him want to jump with joy and possibly wipe off that gorgeous smile off his lips, preferably with his own, but of course, Luhan is a completely calm and collected person. He isn't about to do anything crazy like that. So he beams at Kai. "Sure, thanks!” he says cheerily, before walking out of the café.
“My Way Home,” Luhan starts as he stomps into Black Pearl, slamming the copy of the said book onto the café’s counter, “is horrible.”
“Isn't it,” Kai agrees, coolly wiping some coffee mugs dry. He sets the last mug down and dries off his hands on his apron, approaching the counter. Kai grins at the stiff expression on Luhan's face. “Full on waterworks for you, wasn't it? Loads of tissues?”
Luhan sniffs, grabbing the book off the counter and walking to his usual spot at the café, with Kai trailing behind him. “No,” he says but he hears the quiver in his voice whenever he starts to lie and hopes Kai never notices. “No such thing. I never get affected by what I read.”
“Sure, and you're also a very bad liar.” Kai smirks at the annoyed look Luhan shoots him, tapping the pen he has been holding, on the notepad he uses to take orders. “What do you want? An iced mocha? Like the time you were reading Shooting Stars and sobbing in the corner thinking no one could hear you?”
“I'll get an iced latte,” Luhan briskly says, sitting up in his chair. “And you must be some kind of an unemotional robot to have read that book without at least tearing up. Character deaths are very emotional... things to read.”
“I'll be honest, ok?” Kai confesses, laughing. “I did tear up.”
There is a chime of bells as the door opens and in comes a couple of new customers. Kai tears his eyes away from Luhan and cheerfully greets them. He waves at Luhan, “I'll go make your drink, then. See you later!”
“Hey, Kai?” Luhan starts, smiling as Kai turns around. “I'm Luhan.”
Kai nods in acknowledgement and returning Luhan's smile. “Call me Jongin, that's my real name,” he reveals. “Kai is just a nickname the owner gave me since he's not Korean and my name sounds horrible when he says it.”
“Jongin,” Luhan repeat, slowly. “How was I?”
Jongin beams at him and gives him a thumbs-up. “You're perfect.”
Luhan stuffs a fist into a pocket as he passes by café’s windows, pouting at the sight of heavy rain outside, his other hand gripping a hard cover tightly. He stops by a window pane and lightly fingers the glass, lips curving up into a smile at the clean spot he has left behind. Peering through the spot, he sighs heavily at the downpour which doesn’t seem to be getting any lighter. He wish he has brought along a brolly with him; he did check the weather forecast before heading out, after all, but has told himself that he would be spending only a short while at Black Pearl. He is wrong. He hears a shuffling sound at the back and slowly turns around.
“Jongin,” Luhan smiles and points at the rain outside. “I was just about to get home but... it’s so heavy.”
Jongin smiles back as he walks behind the counter. He disappears for a while before emerging with a book in his hand, “I’ve been wanting to recommend you this. get another drink, on the house?” He smiles once more and holds out the book to Luhan, “Come on. You can read it and wait for the rain to stop.”
“I can?” Luhan asks, but he is already flipping through the book that Jongin has handed him. The title reads Never Let Me Go. “That’s great!”
Outside, the sky rumbles low with the sound of thunder before it brightens with a flash of lightning. Jongin startles and Luhan nearly laughs aloud but gets distracted at the sound of raindrops hitting the ground more intensely. He walks towards the window once more, forlornly looking out.
“It’s getting heavier,” he comments. Jongin nods and presses his lips into a smile, a slow flush creeping across his face, probably embarrassed about just now. Luhan gives him a small smile and raises an eyebrow, “You’re scared of thunderstorms?”
“Not really,” Jongin says but he is not looking at Luhan. There is that low rumbling sound of thunder again and as if on cue, Jongin immediately slaps both hands onto his ears, “Okay fine, I am!”
A loud clap of thunder drowns out Luhan’s laughter as he walks over to Jongin’s side, amused smile on his lips as he says, “Maybe you should play some music in this store whenever it’s storming. Really loudly. Loud enough so you can’t hear the thunder?”
“I think I should try that,” Jongin says. He clears his throat and smiles at Luhan, “I’ll go back to the kitchen. Tons of washing to do. Have fun with that book!”
Luhan watches Jongin walk away, eyes focused on that back and feels a sudden warmth creeping into his chest, and smiles to himself.
Luhan hides behind words.
Whenever he has a bad day, he finds himself reaching out for something to read. This is the reason why he carries a book wherever he goes, the reason why he has a huge collection of books at home. He reads his favourite books over and over again, mostly, not registering the words at all but simply going through the lines and eyes boring through the spaces between them to distract himself. Words are there and they don’t change; there is a certain comfort in the printed letters lined next to each other, punctuated, forming sentences and then paragraphs before finally turning into stories that lets him take a break from the harsh reality.
Luhan reads a great deal because that is how he copes when his emotions threaten to overflow, to engulf him when words get jumbled up from inside of him, never quite making their way out like he wanted them to - so different from the words that are spilled across these pages, each of them defining, clarifying something. In books, Luhan experiences all sorts of emotions with the characters, he goes through all sorts of situations and he knows what will happen next and why. The story is printed bold and clear; the story ends and Luhan can easily move on to embark on another adventure.
Reality, Luhan realises as he closes yet another book, isn't so kind; there are many things that he hasn’t come to terms with. He can’t close himself off, uncurl his fists and move on to another chapter of his life story.
“Are you coming home, soon?” Luhan hears his mother say. He opens the fridge and takes out a can of coke, not answering. Her voice crackles over the speaker as she repeats her question. “ Luhan?”
“I’m here, mom,” Luhan replies. He takes a swig of the soft drink and gulps it down before leaning over the kitchen countertop, “and I’ll come home, soon.”
“You always say that but you only come back once a year. Do you not miss us at all?”
“Of course I miss you!” Luhan protests, standing up straight once more. He places the can drink on the countertop, “I’m just…”
“You’re our only son, Luhan. Your father and I, we’re getting old and the business--”
“Mom, you said we will talk about this after I complete my studies. I still have two years.”
He hears her exhale a long breath followed by a string of scalding words -- something along the lines of him being an ingrate and never doing anything right. She mentions regret, something about wishing she has never signed those adoption papers, how if only those words on that useless piece of paper aren't legally binding, she'd gladly throw him back into the rubbish dump. In the distance, Luhan hears his father telling her to stop. His heart swells with fondness before contracting once more when he says don't waste your breath, he's useless.
Luhan quietly sighs, pulling a book from his bag. He lets his mother talk over his burnt emotions -- each of her words scald and burn but he has always learnt how to clench his teeth and swallow the pain -- as he flips the book open.
It is a long time before Luhan realises that the page he has been on has blotches of water on it, before he feels his eyes searing with pain at the tears he tries so hard to stop from falling but fails. His mother’s voice slices through the silence as he snaps the book close. He takes a shaky breath.
"So when are you coming home?" the book topples to the ground with a loud thud, matching that one thundering beat of his heart. He doesn't reply.
Luhan watches the book lay on the ground, eyes starting to burn once more at the tears that threaten to fall before pressing end call .
Maybe not so soon.
Somewhere after their ninth and tenth meeting at Black Pearl since they first spoke to each other, Luhan asks Jongin out. Jongin has agreed, without a second’s hesitation, and written down his mobile phone number on Luhan’s receipt of new york cheesecake and large cup of cappuccino. They have dinner at a restaurant nearby and Luhan thinks he’s falling in love with the way Jongin talks about his favourite books and authors.
Jongin has thrown him titles of books to read, a whole list of poets he admired and while Luhan tries to recall a certain title of a book he has read a few weeks ago, Jongin leans in and whispers that he likes it when Luhan smiles. They don’t speak very much after that but Jongin has sent him a text that night, asking for the title of the book Luhan has been talking about.
He has not forgotten, Luhan notes as he types his reply. He asks to meet again and Jongin says yes.
Jongin is greeted by fists pummelling into his back and shoulder as his best friends storm into the café one warm, sunny day in July. He yells in shock, toppling over some chairs and tables as Baekhyun and Kyungsoo wrestles him to the ground. He groans when Kyungsoo roughly grabs his head in a chokehold, digging an arm painfully into Jongin’s throat.
“You. Have. A. Boyfriend,” Baekhyun says through clenched teeth, punctuating each word with a punch to Jongin’s body, “And. You. Never told us!?” He finally lets Jongin go, gets up on his feet and shoots a glare at Jongin. Kyungsoo is still holding Jongin in a chokehold, small but strong arm wrapped dangerously tight around Jongin’s neck.
“Yeah, what the hell,” Kyungsoo adds, tightening his grip when Jongin starts to squirm, “are you going to tell us now? Are you?”
“Y-yes,” Jongin chokes out, struggling to speak. Baekhyun notices this and gestures for Kyungsoo to let him go. Kyungsoo seems reluctant but Baekhyun raises a hand as if to hit him and the younger boy complies before roughly pushing Jongin away. Jongin sits up, a palm placed over his chest as he takes a huge breath, “guys. If I had died you wouldn’t even hear about this. This -- this boyfriend thing.”
Baekhyun raises an eyebrow as if challenging Jongin to continue with his snark but he takes the hint and coughs, “fine. Fine. I’m dating someone. His name is Luhan, a year older and is from Beijing.” He says all of this in one breath and looks up to see his best friends still glaring at him. “What?”
“Are you going to marry him?” Baekhyun questions, folding his arms. He gives an offended look when Jongin laughs. “What? And then not invite us to the wedding? How could you! We have been best friends since --”
“We were in kindergarten, I know but I was just --” Jongin interrupts, sighing.
“We told you about us dating! So why can’t you just tell us --” Kyungsoo cuts him off, hotly.
Jongin holds up a hand, interrupting Kyungsoo’s rant before coolly saying, “Kyungsoo, may I remind you that you two didn’t tell me you were dating. I fucking saw you making out in my fucking room when we used to do those gaming sessions in high school -- when I left for a while to get you animals some food. Remember?” He shudders at the memory before grinning at the slow flush creeping across Kyungsoo’s cheeks.
Baekhyun shoots him an icy glare, “oh shut up. don’t try to change the subject.”
“I’m not--”
“Who the hell is this Luhan, again? Aren’t you going to introduce him to us?”
“I swear,” Jongin shakes his head at his two friends, “the both of you are even worse than my parents.”
“This is my first time going on a double date,” Luhan admits as he takes a seat at the edge of Jongin’s bed. He watches Jongin walk to the body-length mirror, “and meeting your friends. Will they--”
“They’ll love you,” Jongin says, distractedly as he fixes his hair for the millionth time. he turns around and poses for Luhan, hand on a hip, “how do I look?”
“Ugly,” Luhan answers, laughing at the mock offended expression on Jongin’s face. He gets up and pulls Jongin close, encircling his arms around the other man’s neck. He smiles as Jongin brushes his lips against his nose, “you look handsome, Jongin. And how do I look?”
“Handsome,” Jongin returns the compliment. He pulls Luhan close and inhales the smell of Luhan's freshly shampooed hair. He is about to press a kiss to the older boy when his phone buzzes. Jongin sighs and reaches for it, one hand still on Luhan's waist. "Yes?" It is Kyungsoo.
“Where are you?” Kyungsoo asks. In the background, Jongin can hear Baekhyun repeating the same question. “Baek and I are on the train. you?”
“On the--,”
“You better be on the way, Kim Jongin,” Kyungsoo warns, “You always say that but I know you’re still in your room with no pants on.”
Luhan lets out a chuckle upon hearing that, gently pushing the younger boy away. He gives Jongin’s bare legs a once over as he walks across the room before throwing a pair of pants at him. “Shut up,” Jongin replies, pouting slightly at what Kyungsoo is saying. His lips quirk up in a grateful smile towards Luhan, “I’ll see you and Baekhyun later.”
Baekhyun has launched into a list of weird things about Kim Jongin, leaving Luhan gasping with laughter, repeatedly slapping Jongin on the thigh and saying why didn’t you tell me all of these? Jongin groans and buries his head in hands, embarrassed, as Kyungsoo recounts the first time Jongin has forced them to go to his first ballet recital.
“Will you believe it,” Baekhyun reveals, mouth curling into a mischievous smile, “Jongin’s role was a fucking tree. He made the both of us go there to see him in some dark leotard and moving his arms as a fucking tree.”
“I was ten,” Jongin groans, “stop telling Luhan about ballet. I did cooler things than that.”
Luhan laughs once more as Baekhyun swiftly shuts Jongin down and recounting stories of their childhood. Leaning back, Luhan watches the lovely flush of pink creeping across his tanned cheeks, repeatedly telling his best friends to shut up with embarrassing him. Being with Jongin is like watching a classic fairytale slowly unfolding in real life and Luhan is sure of a happy ending. He's sure he doesn't want that happy ending with someone else and that is enough, for right now.
There is another thing about being with Jongin, Luhan thinks as he curls into the younger’s arms one night. Jongin is like a favourite book that Luhan keeps going back to over and over again; he can always find familiar, comforting words and lines in Jongin even in his darkest days. Jongin always knows what to say, how to hold Luhan like he is worth it; Luhan sighs as he wraps an arm around his sleeping boyfriend, slowly tracing a finger down Jongin’s spine.
They are huddled on the couch, each with a book on their laps as they spend the Sunday night before the gruelling work week starts, reading before bed, Jongin’s scratchy blanket around them both when Jongin pops the question. It isn’t even a question -- the way Jongin slams his hardcover copy of Rewriting a Fairytale before letting it slide off his lap and finally putting an arm around Luhan, whispering, “Marry me.”
Luhan slowly looks up from his book, eyes widening as he closes it and shifts closer to Jongin. His heartbeat starts to beat fast and he tries not to get distracted by the warmth that Jongin emanates as their thighs press against each other.
He has been reading the Once in a Blue Moon -- something his colleague has recommended -- and there is a look of deep confusion on his face. Jongin smiles and repeats his words.
“What,” Luhan says, giving him a deadpanned look. It goes deadly quiet in the room and Luhan hears the blood coursing through his ears; he's screaming YES! on the inside but he finds it so hard to make the word travel all the way out of his mouth.
Jongin doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he repeats, “Marry me, Luhan. Please?”
“Is this a joke?” Luhan gives a half-smile, mostly directed at himself. It's funny how the things he wants to say always have a way to not come out the way they should.
Silently, Jongin pulls him close before placing a kiss at the top of his head. They stay like that, safe in each other’s arms, not speaking at all, for a few minutes before Jongin asks once more, “Luhan?”
Luhan looks up to see an alarmed look upon Jongin’s face - of course, Luhan's tear ducts decides to screw him up at the crucial moment. He shakes his head and inhales shakily, lips quivering at the effort to smile. With emotions that Jongin knows Luhan finds difficult to express. Jongin thinks he knows the answer, already, that yes, Luhan wants to marry him -- to live together with Jongin and for a long time, to have a family with him. Luhan has fallen asleep in Jongin’s arms creating stories of their future, fingers lazily running circles on Jongin’s bare chest.
“I love you so much,” Luhan says, biting his lower lip hard to stop himself from crying once more. “And yes. The answer is yes, Jongin.”
Jongin nods and deepens the kiss, sighing happily into Luhan's mouth.
Luhan finds himself greeted by silence when he breaks the news to his parents. His mother has been excited at first until Luhan spilled the beans, one by one the words roll out of his mouth, eyes focused on her darkening expression. He goes straight to the point -- Kim Jongin, a year younger than me, working for Kim corporations, is the heir to the company, sweet boy and handsome, Luhan wants to spend his life with this boy -- and watches her frown. The hint of a smile that crept up her face a while ago has long disappeared; his father angrily turns the television off, flinging the remote control to the floor. He asks if Luhan thinks marriage is a joke. Luhan calmly takes a breath and says he’s serious, inwardly flinching when his father gets up, roaring in his face about what a disgrace he is going to be. He tells him to think of the family. What would other people say.
“Luhan, please think about this carefully. you’re still very young, maybe--” his mother tries and Luhan hears the desperation in her voice. there are tears in her eyes, the disappointment and Luhan is sorry but not quite. He shakes his head and she stops, eyes widening in shock. “Luhan, listen to me. you’re going to have to spend your whole life with-- you’re going to marry-- how long have you known this boy?”
“What does it matter?” Luhan’s father snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. “Are there no Korean girls pretty enough for you to marry--”
“There are none,” Luhan replies coldly, equally angry as he glares at his father. “I love Jongin and I want to marry no one else.”
“Get out of my house.”
Luhan doesn’t speak nor does he move. His mother inhales sharply and stares at her hands on her lap, she's shaking with anger, Luhan realises. “Get out. I don't want a son like you.”
He stands up and leaves.
Luhan arrives in South Korea the next morning, running straight into Jongin’s arms when they meet at the airport. They hug each other for a while before Jongin pulls away and gives Luhan a long look, searching hard for words to say. He doesn’t need to ask about Luhan’s parents, about their marriage plans -- the way his lips are pulled into a sad curve, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to flow if he even says a word are enough clues; the Lu family has rejected the idea of their only son marrying Jongin. That much he knows and he also knows how much Luhan is wounded by the rejection.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jongin whispers, reaching out for Luhan’s hand and enclosing it with his. he hears Luhan inhales and squeezes the hand tight, “If they don’t let you--”
“I want to marry you,” Luhan replies, shaking his head as Jongin opens his mouth to say something. Luhan tightens his grip on Jongin’s hand before continuing, “I want to live with you. all my life. I love you, Jongin.” He tips his face towards Jongin, fingers curling at the base of his neck, gently pulling him for a kiss.
“I love you, too,” Jongin murmurs against Luhan’s lips, thumb pressing into the spot beneath his eye, to catch the tear that has been threatening to fall. He slides his tongue into Luhan’s mouth, tastes the salty tears before whispering, “so much.”
The wedding, half a year later, will become one of the most unforgettable memories in Luhan's life. No one from Beijing, except his best friend Zhang Yixing, comes - he has made phone calls but to no avail; he has left messages but his parents have given no reply - but Luhan thinks it is alright. Mrs Kim has kissed his cheek and thanked him for choosing Jongin. She tells him to call her “Mother”, they're a family now, and Luhan has wiped a single tear rolling down his cheek and does as he has been told.
Luhan curses aloud as he unthinkingly sticks two fingers into the frying pan to pick out the egg shells he only notices after he has poured the beaten eggs into the pan. Needless to say, he scalds his fingers with the hot oil, nearly flipping the pan off the stove in shock at the intense heat and pain. Dashing to the sink to run his scalded fingers under the tap, he successfully manages to run his toe against the kitchen table as well and this time, he lets out a string of swear words which is only stopped by the sounds of an amused Jongin standing by the kitchen doorway, chuckling. Luhan throws him the dirtiest look he can muster, angrily turning on the tap.
“Yeah, laugh all you want,” Luhan grumbles as he sticks his hand under the running water. “I’m here, slaving to make you breakfast--”
“And trying to burn the kitchen down as well?” Jongin laughs, walking into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. He takes a sip and lets out a sigh of satisfaction. “Your coffee is still the best coffee, Lu.”
“Sweet-talker,” Luhan says but he is smiling. He places the plate of omelette on the table and frowns at Jongin and his cup of coffee. He points at it, “That with an empty stomach? Have some toasts first, come on.” He walks back to the sink.
“Yes, mom,” Jongin rolls his eyes. he reaches for a piece of toast, watching Luhan still cooling his burnt hand under the running water. “You alright?”
“Now you’re worried,” Luhan says but there is no bite in his voice as he turns the tap off and waves his hand at Jongin, smiling wide. He takes a piece of toast and nibbles on a corner, “Tomorrow, it’s your turn to make breakfast, alright?”
Jongin stops chewing on his toast and looks at Luhan, slightly horrified, “I’m pretty sure we have established the fact that, between the two of us, you are better suited to handling the kitchen… things. I bring home the bacon and you cook it.”
Luhan rolls his eyes at that and kicks Jongin hard under the table, satisfied smirk plays on his lips as the younger man lets out a groan.
Luhan is fast asleep on the sofa when Jongin comes back home after work, late one night. He shivers as he enters the apartment, the heavy downpour that night gives quite a chill, even through his thick blazer. He worriedly peers over at the sleeping Luhan to check if he is properly covered in the cold weather and smiles in relief when he finds his husband cocooned in a warm blanket.
Softly putting his briefcase on the table, he crouches next to his sleeping husband and tenderly plants a kiss on his forehead. Luhan seems deep in sleep, not moving as Jongin leaves another one on his right cheek before gently shaking him awake. He smiles as Luhan slowly stirs awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and squinting at Jongin’s face.
“Y-you’re back,” Luhan yawns, finally sitting up. he stretches his arms before letting them fall heavily on Jongin’s shoulders. “What time is it?”
“Nearly midnight,” Jongin replies, before frowning at the yawn that escapes Luhan’s lips once more, “Told you not to wait for me.”
“I fell asleep reading this,” Luhan counters. he leans back into the couch, pulling a book out from under the cushion. "It's difficult to sleep without you."
There is a flash of lightning and Jongin startles, wildly looking around. Luhan laughs. “You’re such a baby,” he teases, playfully tapping Jongin’s nose with a finger. lightning flashes again and Luhan promptly claps his hands protectively over Jongin’s ears, shushing the other man when he starts to wriggle out of his hold.
“Go to bed, Lu. I'll wash up and join you.” Jongin whispers, leaning forward, cupping Luhan’s jaw with one hand and pressing a kiss to his lips.
Luhan’s mother calls, one night, but he immediately ignores the call and sets his mobile phone on vibration mode. Jongin doesn’t say a word as he brings the plates to the sink, ready to do the dishes
“Don’t you want to get that call?” Jongin says as Luhan hands him a plate to wash.
“No,” comes the curt reply. Luhan’s voice has gone icy cold, one that leaves no room for arguments.
“Come on, lu, she misses you.”
Luhan bristles at that as he forces a cup into Jongin’s soapy hands. He doesn’t respond as the vibrations stops, glaring at it for a while before turning his attention back to washing the dishes.
“Your mother misses you,” Jongin tries to reason, “Do you even read the letters she sent you? I may not know how to read all those Chinese characters but I'm sure she still cares about you or she wouldn’t even bother--”
“Since when did you know my mother so well?” Luhan snaps, “You don’t know what she said to me, Jongin, when dad threw me out. You don't - marrying you - ”
“What, do you fucking regret marrying me now?” Jongin turns to face Luhan so fast, his neck makes a cracking sound; the plate that he has been drying slips out of his grip before crashing to the floor. He watches Luhan wince at the loud sound before angrily snapping, “are you saying you regret marrying me, right now? are you --”
“Don’t pull that on me,” Luhan roughly says, his voice cracking at the last word. He blinks once, letting a single teardrop run down a cheek before frustratedly wiping it away, “don’t fucking pull that on me when I gave up everything to be with you.”
Jongin exhales loudly, his voice low with anger, “Is that it. Do you have anything else you want to confess? Anything else that I don’t know apart from you being selfish and thinking this is all about you? Because honestly,” he pauses as he gets choked up himself. “I let you choose, Luhan. I knew that this was going to happen but you chose to stay.” He is crying now but he angrily brings a hand to his face to wipe off his tears, “and I’m grateful. I’m grateful and I love you but I want you to know that your mother loves you, too. She writes all these letters to you every fucking week and you just chuck them away. She misses you, Lu. she misses you.”
“I know they said things that hurt you but they still love you and they’re trying to patch things up. Since when did you become so cold and unforgiving? You’re hurt but why are you not allowing yourself to heal?”
Luhan grabs another cup and hurls it to the ground. "You have no right to say that to me. You know nothing."
"I don't," Jongin whispers as Luhan stalks out of the kitchen. "but I do know that you'll always hurt if you don't want to let yourself heal. If you don't give yourself a chance."
The food on Jongin’s plate is left untouched as he pokes here and there, obviously not having the appetite to stomach any dinner. he watches Luhan take a bite of his food before turning back to his own plate, mind filled with a thousand other things that is not his dinner at the moment. He startles when Luhan reaches out for his fingers, rubbing his knuckles, and Jongin smiles.
“What’s on your mind?” Luhan asks, voice soft. He takes a sip of his water, not at all letting Jongin’s hand go. “Is my cooking bad?”
“What? No!” Jongin replies, alarmed before realising that Luhan is just joking. He retracts his hand and picks up the spoon with it. Scooping a bit of rice, Jongin pushes the spoon into his mouth and begins to chew. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Luhan tries. He reaches over and takes Jongin’s hand in his, fingers intertwining with Jongin’s. Their wedding bands clink against each other as Luhan rubs the back of Jongin’s hand with the pads of his fingertips, attempting to calm him down. “Jongin.” His voice is soft, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He watches Jongin takes a deep breath as if contemplating whether to reveal his troubles or not. After a few seconds, Jongin sighs, gently pulling his hand out of Luhan’s hold to bury his face in both his hands, “I’m going on a really long business trip.”
“Where,” Luhan asks but his feels his chest begin to tighten and he thinks he knows the answer from the way Jongin is peering worriedly at him as if fearing his reaction.
“Beijing.”
Luhan roughly pulls his hand out of Jongin's hold and folds his arms across his chest. “You’re thinking of asking me to go back to Beijing, aren’t you?” Luhan mutters. The silence from Jongin is enough for him to know that he’s right. He huffs in frustration and glares at Jongin.
“Lu, I don’t want to fight about this,” Jongin sighs, pushing away his bowl of rice. he startles when Luhan stands up to leave, “Luhan. Please. Okay. Fine, you don’t have to come.”
Somehow, Luhan cannot get the disappointed look on Jongin’s face, when he has rejected the idea of going to Beijing together, out of his mind. The room feels terribly cold and empty without Jongin by his side. Even at the last moments, Jongin has quietly asked for Luhan to change his mind. He has shaken his head before tiptoeing to press a goodbye kiss to Jongin’s lips.
In the back of his mind, Luhan pictures familiar Beijing sights and his favourite haunts with his old friends. He thinks of his parents, whether biological or not, and his chest aches. He misses Beijing, he misses his family. Slowly getting out of bed, Luhan reaches for the old shoebox of his mother’s letters he knows Jongin has kept for him.
He picks a piece of envelope out, hands shaking as he takes the letter out. Jongin has obviously tried to open his letters and probably get the help of his Chinese friends to translate, always worried that his mother might have something important to tell Luhan.
My dearest Luhan,
It is winter in Beijing right now and it’s really cold. I wonder if you have received all my other letters? I have not heard a single thing from you since that day and I worry. Yur friend, Zhang Yixing, came to visit for new year and he brought your wedding photos. You and your husband look stunning. I wish I had been there.
Today, I made your favourite dish and when your father complimented that it is delicious, he mentioned you. He misses you, my dearest son, and that is the same for me, possibly a million times more. I have not seen your face in so long, I wonder if you have become more handsome and if I will live that long to see it again. Please write to me, Luhan. Your father and I miss you terribly and we are deeply sorry for the things we have said to you that time.
I am sorry for everything that I have said, I love you so much and want nothing but for you to be happy. We chose you, my dearest son, and I don't think there is a better kid out there for us.
When i think again, I am reminded of my marriage with your father. Of our love story. Of how I used to be young and reckless, how I saw him as the only person in my life (I still do) and how he was really the only person I had ever wanted to spend my life with. I was sure then and I am still sure now. I never told you this but your grandparents didn’t like him at all in the beginning. We stuck by each other, regardless, and look where we are. We have a good, kind-hearted and handsome boy like you and we were stupid to have been saying all those things to you. If your grandmother was alive, she would have struck me with her own hands for driving my only son, her only grandchild, away.
Luhan stops reading, finding himself unable to as his vision blurs with the tears in his eyes. Bringing a hand to wipe his tears away, he folds the letter with the other hand before stuffing it back into the envelope. Taking a few minutes to calm himself down, he finally settles on the floor and carefully pulls out the entire shoebox.
It is going to be a long night, Luhan thinks, with these new reads.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Luhan cheerfully greets, laughing at stunned expression on Jongin’s face. Jongin rubs his eyes, standing rooted to the spot in his usual sleeping attire of just long pants before Luhan steps in, gently pushing him away from the entrance.
“Am I dreaming?” Jongin mumbles in confusion as Luhan struggles to pull his luggage into the small doorway. “My husband is here? In Beijing? Are you Luhan?”
“What the hell are you talking about,” Luhan groans, “help me with this luggage, you idiot.”
Jongin smirks as he single-handedly pulls the luggage into a standing position, “ah, that’s more like it. You’re Luhan, alright. How did you find me?”
“You told me the name of the hotel,” Luhan replies. “And I know Beijing like the back of my hand, of course I know where to find you.”
“And my room?”
“I called your secretary. Why all these questions, aren’t you glad I’m here?” Luhan answers, rolling his eyes at Jongin.
Mrs Lu starts crying at the departure hall, just as Jongin and Luhan are about to go back to Seoul.
“Remember to come back home for new year,” Mr Lu says, voice gruff as he gives Jongin a one-arm hug. Jongin smells the cigarette and a whiff of the cologne he has gifted his father-in-law and smiles. Mr Lu lets him go before giving him a hard thump to the shoulder, lips breaking apart wider into a grin when Jongin stumbles, “your mother cooks only the best dishes for that period and you’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t come back.”
“Dad, if you’re done trying to break Jongin’s back....” Luhan says fondly as his father pulls him into a hug himself.
“I think, mom has grown to love you very much,” Luhan whispers, resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder, “She never hugs me when we’re in public. Not even when I left to study for Seoul, she only took my hand and gave it a squeeze.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Luhan confirms. he angles his face towards Jongin and makes a kissy face. Jongin rolls his eyes before giving a peck to his husband’s lips. Luhan lets out a contented sigh and resumes resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder, “thank you for bringing me home, Jongin.”
author's note: a huge thank you to eonians and uponinfinity for reading through this for me before postings!
askfm twitter tumblr
pairing: luhan/jongin
rating: pg-13
word count: about 6.7k words
summary: in this story, jongin brings luhan home.
note: written for mapofwords for deerofdawn 2014!
Luhan leans back into his chair and stretches his legs, stifling a yawn. He closes the paperback that he has just read, slowly looking around at the nearly empty café. There is that cute barista again, the one with the cool name. Kai. He looks very nice, too, tanned skin and the most beautiful smile on plump, plump lips when he -
“You're a fast reader.” Luhan looks up and is greeted by the said Kai. He gapes at the other boy for a few seconds, speechless. Kai smiles and cocks an eyebrow, “What?”
Luhan closes his mouth and clears his throat. He must have looked utterly stupid in front of Kai. “N-nothing. Yes, yes, I read fast.” Kai smiles once more, an amused one this time. Luhan mentally slaps himself.
“You done with this?” Kai asks, fingers dancing along the edges of Luhan's tray of empty coffee cups.
“Yes,” Luhan breathes, suddenly drawn to Kai's strong-looking arms and large palms. He gulps. “Yes, yes. I'm done.”
Kai nods and wordlessly picks up the tray, before going behind the counter. Luhan buries his face in his hands, inwardly chiding himself for possibly blowing his only chance at picking up the hot barista with the megawatt smile - after weeks and weeks of frequenting Black Pearl for its delicious coffee (and delicious looking Kai, of course), he has only just managed to stutter like a fool. No wonder he is still completely single. Dejected, he slowly packs his things and stands up to leave the café.
“Hey,” a voice sounds making Luhan stop in his tracks. He looks around and wonders if the voice is talking to him before realising that it is Kai. “You should try reading My Way Home. From the same author of the book you were reading just now.” He points at Luhan's bag.
The fact that Kai notices the books that Luhan reads is enough to make him want to jump with joy and possibly wipe off that gorgeous smile off his lips, preferably with his own, but of course, Luhan is a completely calm and collected person. He isn't about to do anything crazy like that. So he beams at Kai. "Sure, thanks!” he says cheerily, before walking out of the café.
“My Way Home,” Luhan starts as he stomps into Black Pearl, slamming the copy of the said book onto the café’s counter, “is horrible.”
“Isn't it,” Kai agrees, coolly wiping some coffee mugs dry. He sets the last mug down and dries off his hands on his apron, approaching the counter. Kai grins at the stiff expression on Luhan's face. “Full on waterworks for you, wasn't it? Loads of tissues?”
Luhan sniffs, grabbing the book off the counter and walking to his usual spot at the café, with Kai trailing behind him. “No,” he says but he hears the quiver in his voice whenever he starts to lie and hopes Kai never notices. “No such thing. I never get affected by what I read.”
“Sure, and you're also a very bad liar.” Kai smirks at the annoyed look Luhan shoots him, tapping the pen he has been holding, on the notepad he uses to take orders. “What do you want? An iced mocha? Like the time you were reading Shooting Stars and sobbing in the corner thinking no one could hear you?”
“I'll get an iced latte,” Luhan briskly says, sitting up in his chair. “And you must be some kind of an unemotional robot to have read that book without at least tearing up. Character deaths are very emotional... things to read.”
“I'll be honest, ok?” Kai confesses, laughing. “I did tear up.”
There is a chime of bells as the door opens and in comes a couple of new customers. Kai tears his eyes away from Luhan and cheerfully greets them. He waves at Luhan, “I'll go make your drink, then. See you later!”
“Hey, Kai?” Luhan starts, smiling as Kai turns around. “I'm Luhan.”
Kai nods in acknowledgement and returning Luhan's smile. “Call me Jongin, that's my real name,” he reveals. “Kai is just a nickname the owner gave me since he's not Korean and my name sounds horrible when he says it.”
“Jongin,” Luhan repeat, slowly. “How was I?”
Jongin beams at him and gives him a thumbs-up. “You're perfect.”
Luhan stuffs a fist into a pocket as he passes by café’s windows, pouting at the sight of heavy rain outside, his other hand gripping a hard cover tightly. He stops by a window pane and lightly fingers the glass, lips curving up into a smile at the clean spot he has left behind. Peering through the spot, he sighs heavily at the downpour which doesn’t seem to be getting any lighter. He wish he has brought along a brolly with him; he did check the weather forecast before heading out, after all, but has told himself that he would be spending only a short while at Black Pearl. He is wrong. He hears a shuffling sound at the back and slowly turns around.
“Jongin,” Luhan smiles and points at the rain outside. “I was just about to get home but... it’s so heavy.”
Jongin smiles back as he walks behind the counter. He disappears for a while before emerging with a book in his hand, “I’ve been wanting to recommend you this. get another drink, on the house?” He smiles once more and holds out the book to Luhan, “Come on. You can read it and wait for the rain to stop.”
“I can?” Luhan asks, but he is already flipping through the book that Jongin has handed him. The title reads Never Let Me Go. “That’s great!”
Outside, the sky rumbles low with the sound of thunder before it brightens with a flash of lightning. Jongin startles and Luhan nearly laughs aloud but gets distracted at the sound of raindrops hitting the ground more intensely. He walks towards the window once more, forlornly looking out.
“It’s getting heavier,” he comments. Jongin nods and presses his lips into a smile, a slow flush creeping across his face, probably embarrassed about just now. Luhan gives him a small smile and raises an eyebrow, “You’re scared of thunderstorms?”
“Not really,” Jongin says but he is not looking at Luhan. There is that low rumbling sound of thunder again and as if on cue, Jongin immediately slaps both hands onto his ears, “Okay fine, I am!”
A loud clap of thunder drowns out Luhan’s laughter as he walks over to Jongin’s side, amused smile on his lips as he says, “Maybe you should play some music in this store whenever it’s storming. Really loudly. Loud enough so you can’t hear the thunder?”
“I think I should try that,” Jongin says. He clears his throat and smiles at Luhan, “I’ll go back to the kitchen. Tons of washing to do. Have fun with that book!”
Luhan watches Jongin walk away, eyes focused on that back and feels a sudden warmth creeping into his chest, and smiles to himself.
Luhan hides behind words.
Whenever he has a bad day, he finds himself reaching out for something to read. This is the reason why he carries a book wherever he goes, the reason why he has a huge collection of books at home. He reads his favourite books over and over again, mostly, not registering the words at all but simply going through the lines and eyes boring through the spaces between them to distract himself. Words are there and they don’t change; there is a certain comfort in the printed letters lined next to each other, punctuated, forming sentences and then paragraphs before finally turning into stories that lets him take a break from the harsh reality.
Luhan reads a great deal because that is how he copes when his emotions threaten to overflow, to engulf him when words get jumbled up from inside of him, never quite making their way out like he wanted them to - so different from the words that are spilled across these pages, each of them defining, clarifying something. In books, Luhan experiences all sorts of emotions with the characters, he goes through all sorts of situations and he knows what will happen next and why. The story is printed bold and clear; the story ends and Luhan can easily move on to embark on another adventure.
Reality, Luhan realises as he closes yet another book, isn't so kind; there are many things that he hasn’t come to terms with. He can’t close himself off, uncurl his fists and move on to another chapter of his life story.
“Are you coming home, soon?” Luhan hears his mother say. He opens the fridge and takes out a can of coke, not answering. Her voice crackles over the speaker as she repeats her question. “ Luhan?”
“I’m here, mom,” Luhan replies. He takes a swig of the soft drink and gulps it down before leaning over the kitchen countertop, “and I’ll come home, soon.”
“You always say that but you only come back once a year. Do you not miss us at all?”
“Of course I miss you!” Luhan protests, standing up straight once more. He places the can drink on the countertop, “I’m just…”
“You’re our only son, Luhan. Your father and I, we’re getting old and the business--”
“Mom, you said we will talk about this after I complete my studies. I still have two years.”
He hears her exhale a long breath followed by a string of scalding words -- something along the lines of him being an ingrate and never doing anything right. She mentions regret, something about wishing she has never signed those adoption papers, how if only those words on that useless piece of paper aren't legally binding, she'd gladly throw him back into the rubbish dump. In the distance, Luhan hears his father telling her to stop. His heart swells with fondness before contracting once more when he says don't waste your breath, he's useless.
Luhan quietly sighs, pulling a book from his bag. He lets his mother talk over his burnt emotions -- each of her words scald and burn but he has always learnt how to clench his teeth and swallow the pain -- as he flips the book open.
It is a long time before Luhan realises that the page he has been on has blotches of water on it, before he feels his eyes searing with pain at the tears he tries so hard to stop from falling but fails. His mother’s voice slices through the silence as he snaps the book close. He takes a shaky breath.
"So when are you coming home?" the book topples to the ground with a loud thud, matching that one thundering beat of his heart. He doesn't reply.
Luhan watches the book lay on the ground, eyes starting to burn once more at the tears that threaten to fall before pressing end call .
Maybe not so soon.
Somewhere after their ninth and tenth meeting at Black Pearl since they first spoke to each other, Luhan asks Jongin out. Jongin has agreed, without a second’s hesitation, and written down his mobile phone number on Luhan’s receipt of new york cheesecake and large cup of cappuccino. They have dinner at a restaurant nearby and Luhan thinks he’s falling in love with the way Jongin talks about his favourite books and authors.
Jongin has thrown him titles of books to read, a whole list of poets he admired and while Luhan tries to recall a certain title of a book he has read a few weeks ago, Jongin leans in and whispers that he likes it when Luhan smiles. They don’t speak very much after that but Jongin has sent him a text that night, asking for the title of the book Luhan has been talking about.
He has not forgotten, Luhan notes as he types his reply. He asks to meet again and Jongin says yes.
Jongin is greeted by fists pummelling into his back and shoulder as his best friends storm into the café one warm, sunny day in July. He yells in shock, toppling over some chairs and tables as Baekhyun and Kyungsoo wrestles him to the ground. He groans when Kyungsoo roughly grabs his head in a chokehold, digging an arm painfully into Jongin’s throat.
“You. Have. A. Boyfriend,” Baekhyun says through clenched teeth, punctuating each word with a punch to Jongin’s body, “And. You. Never told us!?” He finally lets Jongin go, gets up on his feet and shoots a glare at Jongin. Kyungsoo is still holding Jongin in a chokehold, small but strong arm wrapped dangerously tight around Jongin’s neck.
“Yeah, what the hell,” Kyungsoo adds, tightening his grip when Jongin starts to squirm, “are you going to tell us now? Are you?”
“Y-yes,” Jongin chokes out, struggling to speak. Baekhyun notices this and gestures for Kyungsoo to let him go. Kyungsoo seems reluctant but Baekhyun raises a hand as if to hit him and the younger boy complies before roughly pushing Jongin away. Jongin sits up, a palm placed over his chest as he takes a huge breath, “guys. If I had died you wouldn’t even hear about this. This -- this boyfriend thing.”
Baekhyun raises an eyebrow as if challenging Jongin to continue with his snark but he takes the hint and coughs, “fine. Fine. I’m dating someone. His name is Luhan, a year older and is from Beijing.” He says all of this in one breath and looks up to see his best friends still glaring at him. “What?”
“Are you going to marry him?” Baekhyun questions, folding his arms. He gives an offended look when Jongin laughs. “What? And then not invite us to the wedding? How could you! We have been best friends since --”
“We were in kindergarten, I know but I was just --” Jongin interrupts, sighing.
“We told you about us dating! So why can’t you just tell us --” Kyungsoo cuts him off, hotly.
Jongin holds up a hand, interrupting Kyungsoo’s rant before coolly saying, “Kyungsoo, may I remind you that you two didn’t tell me you were dating. I fucking saw you making out in my fucking room when we used to do those gaming sessions in high school -- when I left for a while to get you animals some food. Remember?” He shudders at the memory before grinning at the slow flush creeping across Kyungsoo’s cheeks.
Baekhyun shoots him an icy glare, “oh shut up. don’t try to change the subject.”
“I’m not--”
“Who the hell is this Luhan, again? Aren’t you going to introduce him to us?”
“I swear,” Jongin shakes his head at his two friends, “the both of you are even worse than my parents.”
“This is my first time going on a double date,” Luhan admits as he takes a seat at the edge of Jongin’s bed. He watches Jongin walk to the body-length mirror, “and meeting your friends. Will they--”
“They’ll love you,” Jongin says, distractedly as he fixes his hair for the millionth time. he turns around and poses for Luhan, hand on a hip, “how do I look?”
“Ugly,” Luhan answers, laughing at the mock offended expression on Jongin’s face. He gets up and pulls Jongin close, encircling his arms around the other man’s neck. He smiles as Jongin brushes his lips against his nose, “you look handsome, Jongin. And how do I look?”
“Handsome,” Jongin returns the compliment. He pulls Luhan close and inhales the smell of Luhan's freshly shampooed hair. He is about to press a kiss to the older boy when his phone buzzes. Jongin sighs and reaches for it, one hand still on Luhan's waist. "Yes?" It is Kyungsoo.
“Where are you?” Kyungsoo asks. In the background, Jongin can hear Baekhyun repeating the same question. “Baek and I are on the train. you?”
“On the--,”
“You better be on the way, Kim Jongin,” Kyungsoo warns, “You always say that but I know you’re still in your room with no pants on.”
Luhan lets out a chuckle upon hearing that, gently pushing the younger boy away. He gives Jongin’s bare legs a once over as he walks across the room before throwing a pair of pants at him. “Shut up,” Jongin replies, pouting slightly at what Kyungsoo is saying. His lips quirk up in a grateful smile towards Luhan, “I’ll see you and Baekhyun later.”
Baekhyun has launched into a list of weird things about Kim Jongin, leaving Luhan gasping with laughter, repeatedly slapping Jongin on the thigh and saying why didn’t you tell me all of these? Jongin groans and buries his head in hands, embarrassed, as Kyungsoo recounts the first time Jongin has forced them to go to his first ballet recital.
“Will you believe it,” Baekhyun reveals, mouth curling into a mischievous smile, “Jongin’s role was a fucking tree. He made the both of us go there to see him in some dark leotard and moving his arms as a fucking tree.”
“I was ten,” Jongin groans, “stop telling Luhan about ballet. I did cooler things than that.”
Luhan laughs once more as Baekhyun swiftly shuts Jongin down and recounting stories of their childhood. Leaning back, Luhan watches the lovely flush of pink creeping across his tanned cheeks, repeatedly telling his best friends to shut up with embarrassing him. Being with Jongin is like watching a classic fairytale slowly unfolding in real life and Luhan is sure of a happy ending. He's sure he doesn't want that happy ending with someone else and that is enough, for right now.
There is another thing about being with Jongin, Luhan thinks as he curls into the younger’s arms one night. Jongin is like a favourite book that Luhan keeps going back to over and over again; he can always find familiar, comforting words and lines in Jongin even in his darkest days. Jongin always knows what to say, how to hold Luhan like he is worth it; Luhan sighs as he wraps an arm around his sleeping boyfriend, slowly tracing a finger down Jongin’s spine.
They are huddled on the couch, each with a book on their laps as they spend the Sunday night before the gruelling work week starts, reading before bed, Jongin’s scratchy blanket around them both when Jongin pops the question. It isn’t even a question -- the way Jongin slams his hardcover copy of Rewriting a Fairytale before letting it slide off his lap and finally putting an arm around Luhan, whispering, “Marry me.”
Luhan slowly looks up from his book, eyes widening as he closes it and shifts closer to Jongin. His heartbeat starts to beat fast and he tries not to get distracted by the warmth that Jongin emanates as their thighs press against each other.
He has been reading the Once in a Blue Moon -- something his colleague has recommended -- and there is a look of deep confusion on his face. Jongin smiles and repeats his words.
“What,” Luhan says, giving him a deadpanned look. It goes deadly quiet in the room and Luhan hears the blood coursing through his ears; he's screaming YES! on the inside but he finds it so hard to make the word travel all the way out of his mouth.
Jongin doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he repeats, “Marry me, Luhan. Please?”
“Is this a joke?” Luhan gives a half-smile, mostly directed at himself. It's funny how the things he wants to say always have a way to not come out the way they should.
Silently, Jongin pulls him close before placing a kiss at the top of his head. They stay like that, safe in each other’s arms, not speaking at all, for a few minutes before Jongin asks once more, “Luhan?”
Luhan looks up to see an alarmed look upon Jongin’s face - of course, Luhan's tear ducts decides to screw him up at the crucial moment. He shakes his head and inhales shakily, lips quivering at the effort to smile. With emotions that Jongin knows Luhan finds difficult to express. Jongin thinks he knows the answer, already, that yes, Luhan wants to marry him -- to live together with Jongin and for a long time, to have a family with him. Luhan has fallen asleep in Jongin’s arms creating stories of their future, fingers lazily running circles on Jongin’s bare chest.
“I love you so much,” Luhan says, biting his lower lip hard to stop himself from crying once more. “And yes. The answer is yes, Jongin.”
Jongin nods and deepens the kiss, sighing happily into Luhan's mouth.
Luhan finds himself greeted by silence when he breaks the news to his parents. His mother has been excited at first until Luhan spilled the beans, one by one the words roll out of his mouth, eyes focused on her darkening expression. He goes straight to the point -- Kim Jongin, a year younger than me, working for Kim corporations, is the heir to the company, sweet boy and handsome, Luhan wants to spend his life with this boy -- and watches her frown. The hint of a smile that crept up her face a while ago has long disappeared; his father angrily turns the television off, flinging the remote control to the floor. He asks if Luhan thinks marriage is a joke. Luhan calmly takes a breath and says he’s serious, inwardly flinching when his father gets up, roaring in his face about what a disgrace he is going to be. He tells him to think of the family. What would other people say.
“Luhan, please think about this carefully. you’re still very young, maybe--” his mother tries and Luhan hears the desperation in her voice. there are tears in her eyes, the disappointment and Luhan is sorry but not quite. He shakes his head and she stops, eyes widening in shock. “Luhan, listen to me. you’re going to have to spend your whole life with-- you’re going to marry-- how long have you known this boy?”
“What does it matter?” Luhan’s father snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. “Are there no Korean girls pretty enough for you to marry--”
“There are none,” Luhan replies coldly, equally angry as he glares at his father. “I love Jongin and I want to marry no one else.”
“Get out of my house.”
Luhan doesn’t speak nor does he move. His mother inhales sharply and stares at her hands on her lap, she's shaking with anger, Luhan realises. “Get out. I don't want a son like you.”
He stands up and leaves.
Luhan arrives in South Korea the next morning, running straight into Jongin’s arms when they meet at the airport. They hug each other for a while before Jongin pulls away and gives Luhan a long look, searching hard for words to say. He doesn’t need to ask about Luhan’s parents, about their marriage plans -- the way his lips are pulled into a sad curve, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to flow if he even says a word are enough clues; the Lu family has rejected the idea of their only son marrying Jongin. That much he knows and he also knows how much Luhan is wounded by the rejection.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jongin whispers, reaching out for Luhan’s hand and enclosing it with his. he hears Luhan inhales and squeezes the hand tight, “If they don’t let you--”
“I want to marry you,” Luhan replies, shaking his head as Jongin opens his mouth to say something. Luhan tightens his grip on Jongin’s hand before continuing, “I want to live with you. all my life. I love you, Jongin.” He tips his face towards Jongin, fingers curling at the base of his neck, gently pulling him for a kiss.
“I love you, too,” Jongin murmurs against Luhan’s lips, thumb pressing into the spot beneath his eye, to catch the tear that has been threatening to fall. He slides his tongue into Luhan’s mouth, tastes the salty tears before whispering, “so much.”
The wedding, half a year later, will become one of the most unforgettable memories in Luhan's life. No one from Beijing, except his best friend Zhang Yixing, comes - he has made phone calls but to no avail; he has left messages but his parents have given no reply - but Luhan thinks it is alright. Mrs Kim has kissed his cheek and thanked him for choosing Jongin. She tells him to call her “Mother”, they're a family now, and Luhan has wiped a single tear rolling down his cheek and does as he has been told.
Luhan curses aloud as he unthinkingly sticks two fingers into the frying pan to pick out the egg shells he only notices after he has poured the beaten eggs into the pan. Needless to say, he scalds his fingers with the hot oil, nearly flipping the pan off the stove in shock at the intense heat and pain. Dashing to the sink to run his scalded fingers under the tap, he successfully manages to run his toe against the kitchen table as well and this time, he lets out a string of swear words which is only stopped by the sounds of an amused Jongin standing by the kitchen doorway, chuckling. Luhan throws him the dirtiest look he can muster, angrily turning on the tap.
“Yeah, laugh all you want,” Luhan grumbles as he sticks his hand under the running water. “I’m here, slaving to make you breakfast--”
“And trying to burn the kitchen down as well?” Jongin laughs, walking into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. He takes a sip and lets out a sigh of satisfaction. “Your coffee is still the best coffee, Lu.”
“Sweet-talker,” Luhan says but he is smiling. He places the plate of omelette on the table and frowns at Jongin and his cup of coffee. He points at it, “That with an empty stomach? Have some toasts first, come on.” He walks back to the sink.
“Yes, mom,” Jongin rolls his eyes. he reaches for a piece of toast, watching Luhan still cooling his burnt hand under the running water. “You alright?”
“Now you’re worried,” Luhan says but there is no bite in his voice as he turns the tap off and waves his hand at Jongin, smiling wide. He takes a piece of toast and nibbles on a corner, “Tomorrow, it’s your turn to make breakfast, alright?”
Jongin stops chewing on his toast and looks at Luhan, slightly horrified, “I’m pretty sure we have established the fact that, between the two of us, you are better suited to handling the kitchen… things. I bring home the bacon and you cook it.”
Luhan rolls his eyes at that and kicks Jongin hard under the table, satisfied smirk plays on his lips as the younger man lets out a groan.
Luhan is fast asleep on the sofa when Jongin comes back home after work, late one night. He shivers as he enters the apartment, the heavy downpour that night gives quite a chill, even through his thick blazer. He worriedly peers over at the sleeping Luhan to check if he is properly covered in the cold weather and smiles in relief when he finds his husband cocooned in a warm blanket.
Softly putting his briefcase on the table, he crouches next to his sleeping husband and tenderly plants a kiss on his forehead. Luhan seems deep in sleep, not moving as Jongin leaves another one on his right cheek before gently shaking him awake. He smiles as Luhan slowly stirs awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and squinting at Jongin’s face.
“Y-you’re back,” Luhan yawns, finally sitting up. he stretches his arms before letting them fall heavily on Jongin’s shoulders. “What time is it?”
“Nearly midnight,” Jongin replies, before frowning at the yawn that escapes Luhan’s lips once more, “Told you not to wait for me.”
“I fell asleep reading this,” Luhan counters. he leans back into the couch, pulling a book out from under the cushion. "It's difficult to sleep without you."
There is a flash of lightning and Jongin startles, wildly looking around. Luhan laughs. “You’re such a baby,” he teases, playfully tapping Jongin’s nose with a finger. lightning flashes again and Luhan promptly claps his hands protectively over Jongin’s ears, shushing the other man when he starts to wriggle out of his hold.
“Go to bed, Lu. I'll wash up and join you.” Jongin whispers, leaning forward, cupping Luhan’s jaw with one hand and pressing a kiss to his lips.
Luhan’s mother calls, one night, but he immediately ignores the call and sets his mobile phone on vibration mode. Jongin doesn’t say a word as he brings the plates to the sink, ready to do the dishes
“Don’t you want to get that call?” Jongin says as Luhan hands him a plate to wash.
“No,” comes the curt reply. Luhan’s voice has gone icy cold, one that leaves no room for arguments.
“Come on, lu, she misses you.”
Luhan bristles at that as he forces a cup into Jongin’s soapy hands. He doesn’t respond as the vibrations stops, glaring at it for a while before turning his attention back to washing the dishes.
“Your mother misses you,” Jongin tries to reason, “Do you even read the letters she sent you? I may not know how to read all those Chinese characters but I'm sure she still cares about you or she wouldn’t even bother--”
“Since when did you know my mother so well?” Luhan snaps, “You don’t know what she said to me, Jongin, when dad threw me out. You don't - marrying you - ”
“What, do you fucking regret marrying me now?” Jongin turns to face Luhan so fast, his neck makes a cracking sound; the plate that he has been drying slips out of his grip before crashing to the floor. He watches Luhan wince at the loud sound before angrily snapping, “are you saying you regret marrying me, right now? are you --”
“Don’t pull that on me,” Luhan roughly says, his voice cracking at the last word. He blinks once, letting a single teardrop run down a cheek before frustratedly wiping it away, “don’t fucking pull that on me when I gave up everything to be with you.”
Jongin exhales loudly, his voice low with anger, “Is that it. Do you have anything else you want to confess? Anything else that I don’t know apart from you being selfish and thinking this is all about you? Because honestly,” he pauses as he gets choked up himself. “I let you choose, Luhan. I knew that this was going to happen but you chose to stay.” He is crying now but he angrily brings a hand to his face to wipe off his tears, “and I’m grateful. I’m grateful and I love you but I want you to know that your mother loves you, too. She writes all these letters to you every fucking week and you just chuck them away. She misses you, Lu. she misses you.”
“I know they said things that hurt you but they still love you and they’re trying to patch things up. Since when did you become so cold and unforgiving? You’re hurt but why are you not allowing yourself to heal?”
Luhan grabs another cup and hurls it to the ground. "You have no right to say that to me. You know nothing."
"I don't," Jongin whispers as Luhan stalks out of the kitchen. "but I do know that you'll always hurt if you don't want to let yourself heal. If you don't give yourself a chance."
The food on Jongin’s plate is left untouched as he pokes here and there, obviously not having the appetite to stomach any dinner. he watches Luhan take a bite of his food before turning back to his own plate, mind filled with a thousand other things that is not his dinner at the moment. He startles when Luhan reaches out for his fingers, rubbing his knuckles, and Jongin smiles.
“What’s on your mind?” Luhan asks, voice soft. He takes a sip of his water, not at all letting Jongin’s hand go. “Is my cooking bad?”
“What? No!” Jongin replies, alarmed before realising that Luhan is just joking. He retracts his hand and picks up the spoon with it. Scooping a bit of rice, Jongin pushes the spoon into his mouth and begins to chew. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Luhan tries. He reaches over and takes Jongin’s hand in his, fingers intertwining with Jongin’s. Their wedding bands clink against each other as Luhan rubs the back of Jongin’s hand with the pads of his fingertips, attempting to calm him down. “Jongin.” His voice is soft, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He watches Jongin takes a deep breath as if contemplating whether to reveal his troubles or not. After a few seconds, Jongin sighs, gently pulling his hand out of Luhan’s hold to bury his face in both his hands, “I’m going on a really long business trip.”
“Where,” Luhan asks but his feels his chest begin to tighten and he thinks he knows the answer from the way Jongin is peering worriedly at him as if fearing his reaction.
“Beijing.”
Luhan roughly pulls his hand out of Jongin's hold and folds his arms across his chest. “You’re thinking of asking me to go back to Beijing, aren’t you?” Luhan mutters. The silence from Jongin is enough for him to know that he’s right. He huffs in frustration and glares at Jongin.
“Lu, I don’t want to fight about this,” Jongin sighs, pushing away his bowl of rice. he startles when Luhan stands up to leave, “Luhan. Please. Okay. Fine, you don’t have to come.”
Somehow, Luhan cannot get the disappointed look on Jongin’s face, when he has rejected the idea of going to Beijing together, out of his mind. The room feels terribly cold and empty without Jongin by his side. Even at the last moments, Jongin has quietly asked for Luhan to change his mind. He has shaken his head before tiptoeing to press a goodbye kiss to Jongin’s lips.
In the back of his mind, Luhan pictures familiar Beijing sights and his favourite haunts with his old friends. He thinks of his parents, whether biological or not, and his chest aches. He misses Beijing, he misses his family. Slowly getting out of bed, Luhan reaches for the old shoebox of his mother’s letters he knows Jongin has kept for him.
He picks a piece of envelope out, hands shaking as he takes the letter out. Jongin has obviously tried to open his letters and probably get the help of his Chinese friends to translate, always worried that his mother might have something important to tell Luhan.
My dearest Luhan,
It is winter in Beijing right now and it’s really cold. I wonder if you have received all my other letters? I have not heard a single thing from you since that day and I worry. Yur friend, Zhang Yixing, came to visit for new year and he brought your wedding photos. You and your husband look stunning. I wish I had been there.
Today, I made your favourite dish and when your father complimented that it is delicious, he mentioned you. He misses you, my dearest son, and that is the same for me, possibly a million times more. I have not seen your face in so long, I wonder if you have become more handsome and if I will live that long to see it again. Please write to me, Luhan. Your father and I miss you terribly and we are deeply sorry for the things we have said to you that time.
I am sorry for everything that I have said, I love you so much and want nothing but for you to be happy. We chose you, my dearest son, and I don't think there is a better kid out there for us.
When i think again, I am reminded of my marriage with your father. Of our love story. Of how I used to be young and reckless, how I saw him as the only person in my life (I still do) and how he was really the only person I had ever wanted to spend my life with. I was sure then and I am still sure now. I never told you this but your grandparents didn’t like him at all in the beginning. We stuck by each other, regardless, and look where we are. We have a good, kind-hearted and handsome boy like you and we were stupid to have been saying all those things to you. If your grandmother was alive, she would have struck me with her own hands for driving my only son, her only grandchild, away.
Luhan stops reading, finding himself unable to as his vision blurs with the tears in his eyes. Bringing a hand to wipe his tears away, he folds the letter with the other hand before stuffing it back into the envelope. Taking a few minutes to calm himself down, he finally settles on the floor and carefully pulls out the entire shoebox.
It is going to be a long night, Luhan thinks, with these new reads.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Luhan cheerfully greets, laughing at stunned expression on Jongin’s face. Jongin rubs his eyes, standing rooted to the spot in his usual sleeping attire of just long pants before Luhan steps in, gently pushing him away from the entrance.
“Am I dreaming?” Jongin mumbles in confusion as Luhan struggles to pull his luggage into the small doorway. “My husband is here? In Beijing? Are you Luhan?”
“What the hell are you talking about,” Luhan groans, “help me with this luggage, you idiot.”
Jongin smirks as he single-handedly pulls the luggage into a standing position, “ah, that’s more like it. You’re Luhan, alright. How did you find me?”
“You told me the name of the hotel,” Luhan replies. “And I know Beijing like the back of my hand, of course I know where to find you.”
“And my room?”
“I called your secretary. Why all these questions, aren’t you glad I’m here?” Luhan answers, rolling his eyes at Jongin.
Mrs Lu starts crying at the departure hall, just as Jongin and Luhan are about to go back to Seoul.
“Remember to come back home for new year,” Mr Lu says, voice gruff as he gives Jongin a one-arm hug. Jongin smells the cigarette and a whiff of the cologne he has gifted his father-in-law and smiles. Mr Lu lets him go before giving him a hard thump to the shoulder, lips breaking apart wider into a grin when Jongin stumbles, “your mother cooks only the best dishes for that period and you’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t come back.”
“Dad, if you’re done trying to break Jongin’s back....” Luhan says fondly as his father pulls him into a hug himself.
“I think, mom has grown to love you very much,” Luhan whispers, resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder, “She never hugs me when we’re in public. Not even when I left to study for Seoul, she only took my hand and gave it a squeeze.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Luhan confirms. he angles his face towards Jongin and makes a kissy face. Jongin rolls his eyes before giving a peck to his husband’s lips. Luhan lets out a contented sigh and resumes resting his head on Jongin’s shoulder, “thank you for bringing me home, Jongin.”
author's note: a huge thank you to eonians and uponinfinity for reading through this for me before postings!
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