rooftops; where do we go from here (1/2)
Title: rooftops; where we go from here
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Luhan/Sehun, Yunho/Jaejoong
Word Count: 9500+
Summary: As Yunho tries to escape his past with Jaejoong, he watches Luhan and Sehun and glimpses the future.
A/N: dedicated to yunjae and hunhan~
Yunho hasn’t been to the rooftop of the SM Building in a very long time.
He avoids it, skirts around the frames of its existence, and when he glances up that final flight of stairs, hand resting on the door to the fifth landing, he sees the shadow of two lanky teenagers racing each other to the top.
He closes his eyes and looks away.
There are pieces which have been broken and parts which have been fixed, and sometimes even Yunho himself believes in his assurances that all is right and he’s done his best, but at other times he’s not so sure.
The rooftop continues to taunt him, beckon him, and when Changmin voices his concern for the bags under Yunho’s eyes over a bowl of his best attempt at kimchi jjigae, Yunho is faintly surprised that it’s become so obvious. But then again he’s not, because Changmin has always known, even if he doesn’t fully understand.
“Deal with it quickly, Yunho,” Changmin says softly, and although he tries to dull the bitter edge to his voice, it’s there, and it’s what makes Yunho realize that he can’t hang onto the past forever.
That’s why, on a windy afternoon as fall slowly envelops the streets of Seoul, Yunho climbs that final flight for the first time in three years. His hand trembles but he tangles it into the seams of his sweater and clenches down hard.
When he reaches the top and wraps hesitant fingers around the doorknob, he pushes the door open by the tiniest fraction and slips out, shutting it quietly behind him. Turning around the edge of the grey block and spinning under a dismal sky, he almost expects to see two familiar figures leaning against the railings at the end of the roof, one a cheery boy with mismatched teeth and the other a pale, slender sort with a reckless laugh.
Somebody laughs. Yunho blinks. It’s not the right laugh.
He cautiously sticks his head around the block, and yes, there are two figures there, and no, he’s not hallucinating.
“Again, hyung, again!”
They’re not ghosts, because they’re solid. They’re two boys looking out over Seoul, youth and confidence in the set of their backs, which is all Yunho can make out from over ten metres away.
“I won’t get it right, though.” He sounds hesitant, but Yunho can tell that he wants to keep going, to believe.
“Yes you will,” the taller one encourages, “Give it one more shot.”
“Fine,” the other responds, and he sucks in a breath of air that makes his shoulders heave, and belts out a single line of a song at the top of his lungs, voice rising in pitch as he tries to hit that high note. “JEBAL DORAWAJYEO!” Please come back.
His tone is careful, and Yunho can tell that he doesn’t quite capture the elusive tone, but he’s close enough. His friend jumps up and down and claps excitedly. “Amazing.”
Maybe they are ghosts, after all. Yunho closes his eyes, and then he’s the one leaning against that railing, a familiar voice floating in the air around him.
It soars up an octave, almost ending on a perfect note, but then cracks at the last second and Jaejoong is coughing up a fit.
“I’m not good enough,” he whispers resignedly. They’ve been at this for months now and Jaejoong has exhausted his entire repertoire of H.O.T. songs five times over.
In his head, Yunho remembers his reply, “But you’re almost there, hyung.” That was when they had just met for the first time, and Jaejoong was still his hyung, and the only feelings between them were no more than curiosity bordering on companionship.
Yunho half expects to see Jaejoong’s hesitant half-smile when his eyes inch open, but it’s the backs of the two boys who greet him.
Times have changed. They’re not trainees any longer. The laugh lines at the corner of his eyes and the dull ache of memories in his chest are proof of that. This rooftop is no longer their secret hideout from the rest of the company, the rest of the world. They’ve passed it on to other trainees, who’ve come to need this recluse in their turn.
But now the boys are talking again.
“I’m still lacking,” the singer says, embarrassed, “You’re too nice to me, Sehun-ah.”
“You’re just too modest, hyung. The fans will love your voice after you debut.”
“When we debut,” the older boy corrects gently. “If we debut. Together.”
There’s a sort of gloominess now, and Yunho feels it too, because even now he sometimes wonders if this is all the dream of a desperate trainee, and if he should be taking the place of the boys on the rooftop.
“One more time, then,” the singer says, determined to get it right.
“One more time, then,” Jaejoong mutters through the echoes of the past.
In the present, the boy starts singing again, and this time his friend jumps in too, voice harmonizing clumsily but in the most earnest way.
Don’t leave, don’t leave- can’t you stay?
Lies, lies, I don’t hear anything
I love you, I love you- can’t you show me?
Can’t you love me, love me, love me?
Don’t leave, don’t leave- can’t you stay?
Lies, lies, I don’t hear anything
I love you, I love you- can’t you show me?
Please come back
A silence settles over the two of them when the last note fades away. He was closer to the proper pitch this time, Yunho notes.
The song they sing makes Yunho think of stormy nights and cigarette smoke balconies and screaming and drunken stupors and friendships destroyed by careless words. But the two boys are still too naïve, and much of the impact of the delivery is lost on their youthfulness, not fully understanding the implications of the lyrics.
“Jaejoong does it better.”
Yunho flinches and stares at them. The shorter boy, the singer, reaches a hand and swings his arm around the shoulders of his taller friend, defeated but playful. “I’ll never get that high note right the way he does.”
“Hyung needs to stop being so critical. I’m glad you’re not Jaejoong. You’re you.”
Yunho turns, wrenches the door to the staircase open and doesn’t even flinch when it slams shut behind him with a violent clang and he can see the two boys start in shock in his mind’s eye.
“Someday, Yunho, there will be trainees singing our songs like this,” Jaejoong says as he leans against the railing with his arms outspread, ten years ago or was it yesterday. Not our songs, Yunho thinks, fleeing down the stairs, your songs.
--
“It’ll be fun!” Luhan says, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he hops around their cramped little dorm.
“I’m not so sure,” Sehun mutters hesitantly from his bed, watching Luhan with caution, “You know the company wouldn’t approve.”
Luhan skirts to a stop in front of him and looks down with a devilish pout on his face. His face reads like an open book- this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he’d rather forgo bubble tea for the rest of the year than squander it. Sehun groans and steels himself, trying to resist his hyung’s kicked-puppy pout which has been proved to be highly effective several times already.
“The company won’t know,” Luhan says as he plops down on the bed next to the younger boy. I’ve already got Junmyeon to cover for us. It’s a Sunday anyway, and we just finished filming our teaser together yesterday so it’s not like they need the two of us anyway.”
“Junmyeon-hyung agreed to this?” Sehun asks in surprise.
“Yeah!” Luhan nods enthusiastically. Expect Junmyeon didn’t- he thinks Luhan is going to Gwangju to visit his sick friend. But Luhan conveniently leaves that part out, and Sehun is starting to buy it.
“Won’t you reconsider?” Sehun tries to talk him out of it again, but with less conviction this time, and they both know that Luhan has won.
“Ne-ver,” Luhan sings out flippantly, forming a big X over his head with his arms. “Once we debut next year, I’ll probably never get to see a JYJ concert because the company will actually be monitoring us. I missed their Seoul concert last year, so this Gwangju encore leg of their tour really is my last chance.”
“You’re such a closet fanboy,” Sehun grumbles. “People like you should be satisfied with singing In Heaven on the roof.”
Luhan blinks owlishly at him. “If you’re not a fan, you’ll never understand. Do you know how many hundreds of thousands of Cassies around the world would sell their souls for the opportunity? Anyway, come with me, please Sehun?”
Sehun sighs and flops sideways onto his bed, burrowing himself under the covers like a troubled hamster. “Can’t you go with somebody else?”
Luhan smiles and pats his head, well the visible part of it at least, “I want to go with you.”
A pause, and then Luhan hears the smile in Sehun’s voice when he says, “Okay then, hyung, but only to make sure that you don’t throw yourself on the stage to profess your undying love for Jaejoong and jeopardize our chances-- ”
His sentence ends in an oomph as Luhan jumps on him and tackles him with joy. “I knew I could count on you!”
After a brief struggle during which involves Jongin shouting “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep” from the adjoining room, Sehun finally pins Luhan down on the mattress and flicks his hyung gently in the head, “Go buy tickets now.”
Luhan cackles maniacally, wriggling free of his grip. “But I already did,” he smirks. Sehun weeps inwardly as Luhan dashes out of the room yelling, “Soccer time, Minseok”. It’s undeniable; Luhan always gets his way. Or maybe Sehun just gives in too easily.
And so, two weeks later, Luhan and Sehun, faces hidden by caps and dressed in red shirts that Luhan has carefully picked out from the vast collection of merchandise he’d smuggled from China, board the midday train to Gwangju.
They arrive at the city with a few hours to spare and find their way to the venue, Sehun on edge the entire time because he half expects to see a SM employee pop up from behind the bushes and Luhan positively skipping in pure bliss.
It’s already swarming with fan girls by the time there, and Luhan blends right into the crowd, feeding off on the atmosphere of uninhibited anticipation.
Sehun wanders around beside him, looking as sleepy and uninterested as always on the outside, yet secretly enjoying himself as well on the inside, if only because of Luhan.
He’s only known his hyung for barely more than a year, but one of the first things that he found out was that the angelic boy was a die-hard fan of DBSK. Although Luhan didn’t like to speak of his past, Sehun had gathered from late-night, soul-baring conversations that DBSK had influenced his decision to study in Korea in the first places, against the wishes of his family. Sehun knows that despite the lawsuit, Luhan considers JYJ and DBSK as two parts of one whole, practically worshipping the ground they walk on.
Luhan turns to him excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?” Sehun asks, surprised. His pokerface is formidable, an impasse between him and the rest of the world, set up to hide his often rampaging thoughts behind a wall of banality.
Luhan smiles wordlessly, catching Sehun’s hand in his and dragging him off into the crowd. They stroll around the grounds, and Sehun occupies himself by constantly reminding Luhan not to blow all his money on merchandise that he’ll have trouble hiding when they get back to the dorms.
Eventually, a banner catches Luhan’s eye and he stops suddenly, Sehun crashing right into him.
“Hyung?” he asks, but Luhan’s too distracted to respond.
Sehun pokes his head out from behind Luhan’s back to see YUNJAE staring back at him in big bold font on a banner imprinted with naked chibi angels and glittery hearts.
It’s altogether very unnecessary and Sehun fights down the urge to gag.
Luhan barely contains a high pitched squeal reminiscent of rabid fangirls and the sound a kitchen knife makes when it’s sharpened. A shiver of pure terror runs down Sehun’s spine before he remembers that his bandmate is in fact a Yunjae shipper. He thinks back to their afternoon off half a year ago, when Sehun stumbled upon Luhan watching Yunjae videos on Youku as he cuddled with his pillows in bed.
Luhan had shot up as if he’d been caught dabbling in porn, slamming the laptop closed and all but pouncing on a bewildered Sehun, pinning him to the ground.
“Are you against it?” Luhan had asked, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.
Not that he had much of a choice, Sehun shook his head furiously and Luhan had let up with a relieved sigh. But in all honesty, Sehun didn’t mind at all. They were a famous pair, the gods of fanservice, fairly cute as well, and Sehun didn’t particularly have anything against gay couples.
Luhan immediately invited Sehun to watch the Yunjae videos with him, so against Sehun’s better judgement, they spent the rest of the afternoon on Luhan’s bed going through clip after clip, Luhan commenting excitedly on that burning glance and that sneaky touch. Sehun was only slightly embarrassed to later admit that it had been kind of fun, making wild conjectures about two men who were likely straight and had probably been traumatized by the wild imaginations of their fans.
Beside him, Luhan seems to have returned to the world of the sane.
“I don’t ship them as hard as I used to,” he tells Sehun regretfully. Sehun is pleasantly surprised.
“Well I still do, of course,” Luhan amends, seeing Sehun’s expression. “It’s just,” he hesitates, “I would never do something like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“This banner awakens all my dormant Yunjae feels,” Luhan explains seriously, “But it’s a bit overboard, don’t you think? I just wonder how Jaejoong will feel when he sees this banner, and how Yunho must feel about the whole situation.”
Luhan’s sudden maturity catches Sehun off guard, and wonders what brought it on. “It’s probably really weird for them,” he responds.
“Yeah, I was thinking; I wonder if the same thing will happen to us when we debut,” Luhan says in a thoughtful tone, and Sehun’s chest tightens in reaction to his words.
Unbidden, a blush creeps onto his cheeks and Sehun calls upon the iron strength of all his facial muscles to keep his pokerface in place. It’s not as if Luhan had been referring to the two of them in particular, as in Sehun and Luhan- he’d been referring to their band as a whole, but the blush still won’t go away.
Sehun glances down at the older boy, the rose hue of dusk casting a pale glow on his cheeks and brushing illusions into his eyes. Luhan is the image of innocence, oblivious to the ruckus he had just caused in Sehun’s head.
Me and Luhan? Impossible, Sehun tells himself. The doors to the concert venue open and the two of them are caught up in the flow of rabid fangirls, two individuals swept up in a current that they can’t quite control. Luhan is pushing forward eagerly and Sehun is staring at the back of his head, hand slowly sliding out of Luhan’s grip.
But then Luhan turns back and snatches his hand again, but the touch seems to carry more weight than it did just moments ago, now full of implications and hidden meanings. The weight of it is enough to make him want to drop the hand and escape from the unknown, but Sehun doesn’t. Instead, he holds on just the slightest bit tighter.
--
The hallways are beautiful now; sparkling, pristine, and newly renovated. Still, Yunho is able to smell, to taste, the undercurrent of sweat and desperation which lines the walls and lingers like the bitter aftertaste of broken dreams.
Cushioned between HOT and CSJH the Grace, an old poster from their Mirotic days stares down at him and questions his choices.
It’s been months since Yunho last set foot in Korea for more than a day, having spent almost all his time in Japan promoting their new singles and preparing for their Dome tour. This time they’re back for an entire week, and the chance for relaxation feels strange. Instead of meeting up with old friends, Yunho chooses to spend his first day back at the company building. There’s something he wants to see.
He turns and walks along the back hallway reserved for the trainees and artists of their company. This space isn’t open to the public, and the stench of sweat is stronger here. The floor vibrates lightly from the bass of the music escaping from the door at the end of the hall.
Yunho grabs the handle, twists, and enters the room.
The music doesn’t stop, so the boys dancing don’t either. They’ve been trained to know that much, at least.
Yet Yunho can see more than one pair of eyes fixate on him instead of the mirror, before seeming embarrassed at being caught staring and returning to their reflections. Yunho notices too that they go through the motions of the dance with renewed vigour, eager to impress where they’d been slowing in weariness moments ago.
They’re good, Yunho notes. Some of them definitely dance better than he did when DBSK first debuted. They look good together too, all twelve of them complimenting each other and somehow presenting a unified image through aesthetics alone.
By the time the dance break hits and the boy at the back flips through the air, Yunho has seen all that he needs to see: they have the raw potential required to take Asia and the world by storm, but still lots of room to grow before that happens. And Yunho wants it to happen.
After the last notes fade away, Yunho is suddenly surrounded by sweaty boys bowing vigorously at him, nervous greetings of “Annyeonghaseyo, Yunho-sunbae” echoing through the cloud-background room.
“Hello,” he returns kindly. They remind him of puppies, eager to please and begging for praise. He glances at their faces and notices a boy with a red hat and eyes brighter than all the others- it’s not just adoration in his eyes- Yunho sees the familiar dedication of a fan.
When a taller boy that Yunho recalls is named Sehun subtly winks at the boy with the red hat as if to say, “Make your move,” Yunho is certain and slightly amused. Some of his fans try and hide it, but you can spot them from a mile away by the gleam in their eyes.
“Hyung,” Chanyeol says first, bolder than all the others, “How was our performance?”
“Very good,” Yunho replies honestly. He knows some of the boys by name, but the more recent additions are strangers. He asks for a brief introduction, and the boy in the red hat smiles so that the corners of his eyes crinkle softly and says, “My name is Luhan, Yunho-hyung. I’ve been your fan for a long time. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” His cheeks colour lightly and he glances away, embarrassed.
“Luhan?” Yunho asks. The boy has the slightest hint of an accent, so faint that Yunho would never have heard it if he hadn’t been good friends with Hangeng a lawsuit ago. “Are you Chinese?”
“Yes,” Luhan says politely, stepping back and giving a boy with high cheekbones a chance to introduce himself.
Yunho sticks around to watch the rest of the practice, and around 7pm their soon-to-be manager gives them a break for dinner. The boys troop out in a massive clump, naturally falling into small groups and chattering tiredly amongst themselves. Luhan however, doesn’t budge. At his side, Sehun doesn’t either.
“Sunbae-nim,” Luhan says shyly, rubbing at his arm as he approaches Yunho like a skittish deer.
“You can call me hyung,” Yunho smiles, “Well, off camera at least.”
Despite his appearance of calm, Luhan’s eyelid spasms and Yunho can sense the inner fanboy threatening to reveal itself. Frankly, it’s kind of adorable, and Yunho sees Sehun’s lips twitch slightly in amusement as well.
“Hyung,” Luhan tries again, “I know you’re super busy, but if you have any time to spare at all, I was wondering if you could teach me the Mirotic dance…” He trails off awkwardly and Yunho feels happier than he has in weeks. It must be his adoration for fanboys.
“I would love to,” he says sincerely. Dinner and Changmin can wait. It’s about time that Changmin learned to cook for himself anyway.
Luhan perks up immediately and nearly breaks his back bowing in appreciation before Sehun intervenes. “Could you teach me as well, Yunho-hyung?” the taller boy asks.
“Sure,” Yunho tells him, noticing how Luhan brightens up even further, if that were humanly possible.
Clearly his fanboy suspicions are correct, for Luhan hooks his phone up to the speakers and the familiar beats of Mirotic bounce off of the walls.
It turns out that Luhan practically knows the entire dance already and only seeks to perfect it, so Yunho goes out of his way to share all the finer details and the tips that had been precious secrets to the five of them, but no longer. Times had changed, and Yunho wanted to make sure that his hoobaes could keep the spirit alive.
Sehun on the other hand is much more of a stranger to the dance, but he picks it up at a record speed, movements blending into each other with easy fluidity and undaunted confidence.
Without their realization, the hours pass, and the moon is high in the sky by the time the two of them have the entire dance down, perhaps not perfectly, and definitely not enough to perform in front of an audience, but it’s pretty damn good.
This time around, Yunho dances with them, and he watches the two younger boys whirl behind him through the mirror. It’s different; these days he’s used to completing the routine with two people, before he never would’ve dreamed of even running through it once without five.
With three it’s odd; unsettling, even.
They’re interrupted by his ringtone, nearly obscured by the pounding music, and Yunho waves at them to continue before jogging over to pick up.
“Where are you?” Changmin barks furiously, “You said you’d be back by nine so we could go to Super Junior’s dorm together. And you didn’t feed me.”
Yunho glances at his watch and his startled to see that it’s almost midnight.
He opens his mouth to explain but is cut off by Changmin’s voice, much softer than before and now with a touch of worry, “Yunho, why is Mirotic playing in the background?”
Again, Yunho tries to explain but is distracted by the two boys in front of him. The song has ended, and Yunho takes in Luhan bouncing up and down excitedly, somehow still having enough energy even after hours of dancing. But it’s the look in Sehun’s eyes that strikes a chord within him, for the younger boy has finally let his guard down, and the warmth and affection in his eyes as he watches Luhan celebrate is eerily familiar.
And then Sehun pulls Luhan into a sweaty hug, which the other is all too eager to reciprocate. “Good job, hyung,” Yunho hears over the beginning of Mirotic, over Jaejoong’s voice, as the song plays on loop once more.
“Yunho!” Changmin is calling him frantically, bordering on panic now. “Are you out drinking again? I thought we were over it- you said you were over it!”
“I’m fine, Min,” Yunho whispers when he finds his voice again, gaze still fixated on the two boys who’ve forgotten his presence as they run through the routine yet again.
Suddenly it all makes sense- all the small things, the waiting, the dancing, the smiles, the touching. It’s so obvious now- and of course he would be the one to notice, Yunho thinks bitterly. He wonders if he’s now responsible, if he should say something, but the two boys in question are utterly clueless, and he doesn’t have the heart to step in when he doesn’t have to, because his own story has caused him enough pain already.
“I’m fine,” he repeats to a confused Changmin, “Because I’m not the one you should be worrying about.”
--
When he sees Luhan again, things are different.
They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but in Sehun’s case, all it has done is given him a bad case of heartsickness.
Every time it’s worse than the last. The countries come and go, the memories flit, tease, and disappear, and the periods of separation between them suffocate any happiness from their reunions.
Sehun leans against the wall of the waiting room with his arms crossed and his customary pokerface in place.
The makeup sticks to his face, hot and heavy, but by now he’s used to it and his fingers no longer twitch with the need to wipe it off. His clothes cling to his skin, uncomfortably tight, and Sehun absentmindedly pops an EXO logo pin off of his top and twirls it between his fingers.
The door to the waiting room opens and Yifan’s tall frame breezes through the frame.
Chanyeol jumps off the couch immediately, tossing his phone aside with a cry of, “Hyung!” Yifan grins until his eyes crinkle and the two of them exchange their customary manly embrace.
Zitao ducks in right behind him, practically beaming as he sees all the EXO K members for the first time in two months, and is immediately followed by a skipping Jongdae.
Yixing and Minseok are next, tossing their bags aside and leaning into the hugs offered by Junmyeon and Kyungsoo. From his seat where his makeup is being applied, Jongin shouts, “Finally! You guys are late!”
Baekhyun yells a mumbled, “I missed you guys!” from behind the curtains where the stylist noonas are busy fitting him with his outfit.
Jongdae calls back, “Yeah okay, I missed you too but that’s only because everyone in China refuses to speak to me in Korean. It makes one slightly desperate, you know.” Baekhyun swears at him through the curtains.
Sehun inhales. He doesn’t budge a single bit, not until he sees Luhan’s tiny face appear through the doorway, seconds later finding himself with an armful of Junmyeon while Chanyeol claps him hard on the back.
Sehun exhales, and Luhan appears before him in that moment, hands reaching up to grab his cheeks, pinching and stretching them in a directions that Sehun is sure that skin should not be pulled.
“Watch it, hyung,” Sehun sniffs, “You’re getting BB cream all over your hands.” Still, he’s unable to fight the wide smile which turns his eyes into two crescent moons, but it’s okay because Luhan reflects the expression right back at him.
“I missed you, Sehun-ah,” he mumbles, snaking arms around Sehun’s waist and burrowing his face in Sehun’s shirt. Luhan’s hair smells like mango and a hint of something exotic, and his outfit is casual, for the stylist noonas have yet to get to him.
In his haste to return the hug, Sehun doesn’t even notice the EXO pin in his hand dropping to the floor.
“We rushed here from the airport,” Luhan yawns as they settle onto the couch, his head lolling onto Sehun’s shoulder. “I’m absolutely exhausted.”
“Have you been getting enough sleep, hyung?” Sehun asks suspiciously.
“Of course!” Luhan replies cheerfully, “I’ve slept like a rock.”
Sehun doesn’t believe him for a second. Luhan has always had trouble falling asleep, needing to cuddle for ages with his stuffed animals before he would finally pass out, and even then he tosses and turns all night, nightmares assaulting him in his sleep. He mumbles away to himself in broken Mandarin, and it’s during those moments that Sehun wishes that he was just a little bit smarter and could grasp different languages with Luhan’s ease.
Luhan sense his emotions and turns the tables, “It’s been two months. You’ve been doing okay, right?”
“Of course,” Sehun echoes, his words just as empty as Luhan’s. Sehun doesn’t know why they persist in telling white lies that the other can see through like second nature, but that’s just one of the defenses they have to keep things from getting too close, too personal. From crossing that invisible line.
“You haven’t replied to my texts at all,” Luhan pouts. Sehun isn’t sure how to explain the way his fingers freeze over his phone, how he’s convinced that texting will only make the separation more painful, how it will make him wish for Luhan’s presence beside him rather then rushed words from one country to another.
He settles for, “Long distance texting costs too much.” Luhan bites his lip and lets it slide.
Luhan focuses instead on Zitao and Jongdae as they are dragged off to get their makeup done as well, and the sight makes him recall something. He turns to Sehun eagerly, previous grievances temporarily forgiven, “In Taiwan, Yixing and I went shopping at one of the night markets, and you wouldn’t believe what they had there. The bubble tea was so cheap and delicious…”
He chatters on and on excitedly, and Sehun is content just to sit back and listen, because having Luhan close by, back from EXO-M’s spin of Taiwan and Hong Kong, is more than enough.
By the time Luhan is called off in his turn by their noonas, Sehun is surprised when he discovers that his hand had been resting on Luhan’s shoulder all along. He doesn’t even remember when it got there.
Finally, they’re ready. As the minutes trickle by, Sehun is assaulted by a wave of nerves. “It’s just like any other performance,” he tells himself, but that’s not true because this is the SBS Gayo Daejun, the first and the largest of the year stages, and they’ll be performing alongside pretty much all of the other artists in the industry.
His eyes are unfocused as they leave their waiting room and walk through the hallways of the recording studio to where the stage awaits. Sehun plods along; following Baekhyun’s back blindly, until Luhan suddenly materializes in his field of vision.
“Snap out of it, maknae,” he teases gently. “We’ll give it all we’ve got, all twelve of us.”
Sehun nods, grabs for Luhan’s hand out of habit, locks their fingers together, and continues walking. They participate in the rehearsal first, running through MAMA once because it’s the only song they’ve been given a chance to perform as rookies, notwithstanding Yixing and Kai’s special stage with the rest of the SMTown dancers.
Yunho-hyung is there at the corner of the stage watching them, and Sehun bows with the rest of his members, Luhan more vehemently that the others.
When they’re done, Yunho offers them bits and pieces of advice like always, and then it’s back to the waiting room for another two hours. Jongin and Yixing leave to rehearse for their special dance stage with Yunho, and then come back half an hour later.
All too soon, they’re standing on the stage in front of thousands of fans who screaming and waving while the cameramen zoom in on their every move. Sehun dances harder than he has all year, determined not to make the careless mistakes he’s infamous for and focusing on nothing but the music under the pulsing lights.
They finish to thundering applause, and as he staggers into place in their line-up, Kyungsoo on his left and Chanyeol on his right, Sehun realizes that they’re not rookies any more. The year of their debut has passed, and from now on the path ahead will only wind further into the unknown.
As if to complete the moment, Luhan leans forward from his spot two places down and they make eye contact, because hey, Sehun was looking towards him in the first place. Luhan smiles triumphantly with the stage lights dancing across his slender frame, and in that pause, something clicks in Sehun’s head.
This feeling is more than affection, more than a simple like between friends. His subconscious had been suppressing it, with the confusion of fan service and the pressure of fame, but it had come out at last. Sehun isn’t sure what it is exactly because it’s nothing like the crushes he’s had in the past, and it isn’t remotely similar to his feelings for his ex-girlfriends. The only thing he knows is that Luhan matters too much and he has for a very long time.
The roaring in his head is not one of shock, but one of acceptance and amusement at not realizing it sooner. It drowns out almost everything else as the twelve of them troop off stage. The members are hugging each other, high-fiving, Yifan patting Zitao’s head ahead of him.
Sehun is distracted by Luhan’s arm appearing around his shoulders, but he starts to notice that something is wrong when he sees their manager’s face. It’s ashen and drawn-out, and his hand is twitching as he shepherds the twelve of them into a clump.
“What’s wrong with Yunho-hyung?” Luhan whispers into his ear, and sure enough Yunho, who had been watching them the entire time from the sidelines, is frozen in shock, all the colour draining from his face as well.
At that moment, Changmin storms into the room, a dark aura saturating the air around him. They watch in trepidation as he crosses the floor to Yunho, fury in his voice as he hisses, “They can’t do this.”
DBSK’s manager lays a hand on his arm to appease him. “It’s too late now.”
Yunho is staring blankly into the distance, not hearing a single word of the exchange.
The EXO members are stunned into silence, having never seen Changmin lose his cool in such a public space, much less Yunho seem so broken.
“What’s going on, hyung?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes popping out of their sockets as the twelve of them gather nervously around their manager.
Their hyung rubs his forehead wearily, leans in, and says, “It seems that JYJ will be performing tonight.”
part 2 (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Luhan/Sehun, Yunho/Jaejoong
Word Count: 9500+
Summary: As Yunho tries to escape his past with Jaejoong, he watches Luhan and Sehun and glimpses the future.
A/N: dedicated to yunjae and hunhan~
Yunho hasn’t been to the rooftop of the SM Building in a very long time.
He avoids it, skirts around the frames of its existence, and when he glances up that final flight of stairs, hand resting on the door to the fifth landing, he sees the shadow of two lanky teenagers racing each other to the top.
He closes his eyes and looks away.
There are pieces which have been broken and parts which have been fixed, and sometimes even Yunho himself believes in his assurances that all is right and he’s done his best, but at other times he’s not so sure.
The rooftop continues to taunt him, beckon him, and when Changmin voices his concern for the bags under Yunho’s eyes over a bowl of his best attempt at kimchi jjigae, Yunho is faintly surprised that it’s become so obvious. But then again he’s not, because Changmin has always known, even if he doesn’t fully understand.
“Deal with it quickly, Yunho,” Changmin says softly, and although he tries to dull the bitter edge to his voice, it’s there, and it’s what makes Yunho realize that he can’t hang onto the past forever.
That’s why, on a windy afternoon as fall slowly envelops the streets of Seoul, Yunho climbs that final flight for the first time in three years. His hand trembles but he tangles it into the seams of his sweater and clenches down hard.
When he reaches the top and wraps hesitant fingers around the doorknob, he pushes the door open by the tiniest fraction and slips out, shutting it quietly behind him. Turning around the edge of the grey block and spinning under a dismal sky, he almost expects to see two familiar figures leaning against the railings at the end of the roof, one a cheery boy with mismatched teeth and the other a pale, slender sort with a reckless laugh.
Somebody laughs. Yunho blinks. It’s not the right laugh.
He cautiously sticks his head around the block, and yes, there are two figures there, and no, he’s not hallucinating.
“Again, hyung, again!”
They’re not ghosts, because they’re solid. They’re two boys looking out over Seoul, youth and confidence in the set of their backs, which is all Yunho can make out from over ten metres away.
“I won’t get it right, though.” He sounds hesitant, but Yunho can tell that he wants to keep going, to believe.
“Yes you will,” the taller one encourages, “Give it one more shot.”
“Fine,” the other responds, and he sucks in a breath of air that makes his shoulders heave, and belts out a single line of a song at the top of his lungs, voice rising in pitch as he tries to hit that high note. “JEBAL DORAWAJYEO!” Please come back.
His tone is careful, and Yunho can tell that he doesn’t quite capture the elusive tone, but he’s close enough. His friend jumps up and down and claps excitedly. “Amazing.”
Maybe they are ghosts, after all. Yunho closes his eyes, and then he’s the one leaning against that railing, a familiar voice floating in the air around him.
It soars up an octave, almost ending on a perfect note, but then cracks at the last second and Jaejoong is coughing up a fit.
“I’m not good enough,” he whispers resignedly. They’ve been at this for months now and Jaejoong has exhausted his entire repertoire of H.O.T. songs five times over.
In his head, Yunho remembers his reply, “But you’re almost there, hyung.” That was when they had just met for the first time, and Jaejoong was still his hyung, and the only feelings between them were no more than curiosity bordering on companionship.
Yunho half expects to see Jaejoong’s hesitant half-smile when his eyes inch open, but it’s the backs of the two boys who greet him.
Times have changed. They’re not trainees any longer. The laugh lines at the corner of his eyes and the dull ache of memories in his chest are proof of that. This rooftop is no longer their secret hideout from the rest of the company, the rest of the world. They’ve passed it on to other trainees, who’ve come to need this recluse in their turn.
But now the boys are talking again.
“I’m still lacking,” the singer says, embarrassed, “You’re too nice to me, Sehun-ah.”
“You’re just too modest, hyung. The fans will love your voice after you debut.”
“When we debut,” the older boy corrects gently. “If we debut. Together.”
There’s a sort of gloominess now, and Yunho feels it too, because even now he sometimes wonders if this is all the dream of a desperate trainee, and if he should be taking the place of the boys on the rooftop.
“One more time, then,” the singer says, determined to get it right.
“One more time, then,” Jaejoong mutters through the echoes of the past.
In the present, the boy starts singing again, and this time his friend jumps in too, voice harmonizing clumsily but in the most earnest way.
Don’t leave, don’t leave- can’t you stay?
Lies, lies, I don’t hear anything
I love you, I love you- can’t you show me?
Can’t you love me, love me, love me?
Don’t leave, don’t leave- can’t you stay?
Lies, lies, I don’t hear anything
I love you, I love you- can’t you show me?
Please come back
A silence settles over the two of them when the last note fades away. He was closer to the proper pitch this time, Yunho notes.
The song they sing makes Yunho think of stormy nights and cigarette smoke balconies and screaming and drunken stupors and friendships destroyed by careless words. But the two boys are still too naïve, and much of the impact of the delivery is lost on their youthfulness, not fully understanding the implications of the lyrics.
“Jaejoong does it better.”
Yunho flinches and stares at them. The shorter boy, the singer, reaches a hand and swings his arm around the shoulders of his taller friend, defeated but playful. “I’ll never get that high note right the way he does.”
“Hyung needs to stop being so critical. I’m glad you’re not Jaejoong. You’re you.”
Yunho turns, wrenches the door to the staircase open and doesn’t even flinch when it slams shut behind him with a violent clang and he can see the two boys start in shock in his mind’s eye.
“Someday, Yunho, there will be trainees singing our songs like this,” Jaejoong says as he leans against the railing with his arms outspread, ten years ago or was it yesterday. Not our songs, Yunho thinks, fleeing down the stairs, your songs.
--
“It’ll be fun!” Luhan says, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he hops around their cramped little dorm.
“I’m not so sure,” Sehun mutters hesitantly from his bed, watching Luhan with caution, “You know the company wouldn’t approve.”
Luhan skirts to a stop in front of him and looks down with a devilish pout on his face. His face reads like an open book- this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he’d rather forgo bubble tea for the rest of the year than squander it. Sehun groans and steels himself, trying to resist his hyung’s kicked-puppy pout which has been proved to be highly effective several times already.
“The company won’t know,” Luhan says as he plops down on the bed next to the younger boy. I’ve already got Junmyeon to cover for us. It’s a Sunday anyway, and we just finished filming our teaser together yesterday so it’s not like they need the two of us anyway.”
“Junmyeon-hyung agreed to this?” Sehun asks in surprise.
“Yeah!” Luhan nods enthusiastically. Expect Junmyeon didn’t- he thinks Luhan is going to Gwangju to visit his sick friend. But Luhan conveniently leaves that part out, and Sehun is starting to buy it.
“Won’t you reconsider?” Sehun tries to talk him out of it again, but with less conviction this time, and they both know that Luhan has won.
“Ne-ver,” Luhan sings out flippantly, forming a big X over his head with his arms. “Once we debut next year, I’ll probably never get to see a JYJ concert because the company will actually be monitoring us. I missed their Seoul concert last year, so this Gwangju encore leg of their tour really is my last chance.”
“You’re such a closet fanboy,” Sehun grumbles. “People like you should be satisfied with singing In Heaven on the roof.”
Luhan blinks owlishly at him. “If you’re not a fan, you’ll never understand. Do you know how many hundreds of thousands of Cassies around the world would sell their souls for the opportunity? Anyway, come with me, please Sehun?”
Sehun sighs and flops sideways onto his bed, burrowing himself under the covers like a troubled hamster. “Can’t you go with somebody else?”
Luhan smiles and pats his head, well the visible part of it at least, “I want to go with you.”
A pause, and then Luhan hears the smile in Sehun’s voice when he says, “Okay then, hyung, but only to make sure that you don’t throw yourself on the stage to profess your undying love for Jaejoong and jeopardize our chances-- ”
His sentence ends in an oomph as Luhan jumps on him and tackles him with joy. “I knew I could count on you!”
After a brief struggle during which involves Jongin shouting “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep” from the adjoining room, Sehun finally pins Luhan down on the mattress and flicks his hyung gently in the head, “Go buy tickets now.”
Luhan cackles maniacally, wriggling free of his grip. “But I already did,” he smirks. Sehun weeps inwardly as Luhan dashes out of the room yelling, “Soccer time, Minseok”. It’s undeniable; Luhan always gets his way. Or maybe Sehun just gives in too easily.
And so, two weeks later, Luhan and Sehun, faces hidden by caps and dressed in red shirts that Luhan has carefully picked out from the vast collection of merchandise he’d smuggled from China, board the midday train to Gwangju.
They arrive at the city with a few hours to spare and find their way to the venue, Sehun on edge the entire time because he half expects to see a SM employee pop up from behind the bushes and Luhan positively skipping in pure bliss.
It’s already swarming with fan girls by the time there, and Luhan blends right into the crowd, feeding off on the atmosphere of uninhibited anticipation.
Sehun wanders around beside him, looking as sleepy and uninterested as always on the outside, yet secretly enjoying himself as well on the inside, if only because of Luhan.
He’s only known his hyung for barely more than a year, but one of the first things that he found out was that the angelic boy was a die-hard fan of DBSK. Although Luhan didn’t like to speak of his past, Sehun had gathered from late-night, soul-baring conversations that DBSK had influenced his decision to study in Korea in the first places, against the wishes of his family. Sehun knows that despite the lawsuit, Luhan considers JYJ and DBSK as two parts of one whole, practically worshipping the ground they walk on.
Luhan turns to him excitedly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?” Sehun asks, surprised. His pokerface is formidable, an impasse between him and the rest of the world, set up to hide his often rampaging thoughts behind a wall of banality.
Luhan smiles wordlessly, catching Sehun’s hand in his and dragging him off into the crowd. They stroll around the grounds, and Sehun occupies himself by constantly reminding Luhan not to blow all his money on merchandise that he’ll have trouble hiding when they get back to the dorms.
Eventually, a banner catches Luhan’s eye and he stops suddenly, Sehun crashing right into him.
“Hyung?” he asks, but Luhan’s too distracted to respond.
Sehun pokes his head out from behind Luhan’s back to see YUNJAE staring back at him in big bold font on a banner imprinted with naked chibi angels and glittery hearts.
It’s altogether very unnecessary and Sehun fights down the urge to gag.
Luhan barely contains a high pitched squeal reminiscent of rabid fangirls and the sound a kitchen knife makes when it’s sharpened. A shiver of pure terror runs down Sehun’s spine before he remembers that his bandmate is in fact a Yunjae shipper. He thinks back to their afternoon off half a year ago, when Sehun stumbled upon Luhan watching Yunjae videos on Youku as he cuddled with his pillows in bed.
Luhan had shot up as if he’d been caught dabbling in porn, slamming the laptop closed and all but pouncing on a bewildered Sehun, pinning him to the ground.
“Are you against it?” Luhan had asked, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.
Not that he had much of a choice, Sehun shook his head furiously and Luhan had let up with a relieved sigh. But in all honesty, Sehun didn’t mind at all. They were a famous pair, the gods of fanservice, fairly cute as well, and Sehun didn’t particularly have anything against gay couples.
Luhan immediately invited Sehun to watch the Yunjae videos with him, so against Sehun’s better judgement, they spent the rest of the afternoon on Luhan’s bed going through clip after clip, Luhan commenting excitedly on that burning glance and that sneaky touch. Sehun was only slightly embarrassed to later admit that it had been kind of fun, making wild conjectures about two men who were likely straight and had probably been traumatized by the wild imaginations of their fans.
Beside him, Luhan seems to have returned to the world of the sane.
“I don’t ship them as hard as I used to,” he tells Sehun regretfully. Sehun is pleasantly surprised.
“Well I still do, of course,” Luhan amends, seeing Sehun’s expression. “It’s just,” he hesitates, “I would never do something like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“This banner awakens all my dormant Yunjae feels,” Luhan explains seriously, “But it’s a bit overboard, don’t you think? I just wonder how Jaejoong will feel when he sees this banner, and how Yunho must feel about the whole situation.”
Luhan’s sudden maturity catches Sehun off guard, and wonders what brought it on. “It’s probably really weird for them,” he responds.
“Yeah, I was thinking; I wonder if the same thing will happen to us when we debut,” Luhan says in a thoughtful tone, and Sehun’s chest tightens in reaction to his words.
Unbidden, a blush creeps onto his cheeks and Sehun calls upon the iron strength of all his facial muscles to keep his pokerface in place. It’s not as if Luhan had been referring to the two of them in particular, as in Sehun and Luhan- he’d been referring to their band as a whole, but the blush still won’t go away.
Sehun glances down at the older boy, the rose hue of dusk casting a pale glow on his cheeks and brushing illusions into his eyes. Luhan is the image of innocence, oblivious to the ruckus he had just caused in Sehun’s head.
Me and Luhan? Impossible, Sehun tells himself. The doors to the concert venue open and the two of them are caught up in the flow of rabid fangirls, two individuals swept up in a current that they can’t quite control. Luhan is pushing forward eagerly and Sehun is staring at the back of his head, hand slowly sliding out of Luhan’s grip.
But then Luhan turns back and snatches his hand again, but the touch seems to carry more weight than it did just moments ago, now full of implications and hidden meanings. The weight of it is enough to make him want to drop the hand and escape from the unknown, but Sehun doesn’t. Instead, he holds on just the slightest bit tighter.
--
The hallways are beautiful now; sparkling, pristine, and newly renovated. Still, Yunho is able to smell, to taste, the undercurrent of sweat and desperation which lines the walls and lingers like the bitter aftertaste of broken dreams.
Cushioned between HOT and CSJH the Grace, an old poster from their Mirotic days stares down at him and questions his choices.
It’s been months since Yunho last set foot in Korea for more than a day, having spent almost all his time in Japan promoting their new singles and preparing for their Dome tour. This time they’re back for an entire week, and the chance for relaxation feels strange. Instead of meeting up with old friends, Yunho chooses to spend his first day back at the company building. There’s something he wants to see.
He turns and walks along the back hallway reserved for the trainees and artists of their company. This space isn’t open to the public, and the stench of sweat is stronger here. The floor vibrates lightly from the bass of the music escaping from the door at the end of the hall.
Yunho grabs the handle, twists, and enters the room.
The music doesn’t stop, so the boys dancing don’t either. They’ve been trained to know that much, at least.
Yet Yunho can see more than one pair of eyes fixate on him instead of the mirror, before seeming embarrassed at being caught staring and returning to their reflections. Yunho notices too that they go through the motions of the dance with renewed vigour, eager to impress where they’d been slowing in weariness moments ago.
They’re good, Yunho notes. Some of them definitely dance better than he did when DBSK first debuted. They look good together too, all twelve of them complimenting each other and somehow presenting a unified image through aesthetics alone.
By the time the dance break hits and the boy at the back flips through the air, Yunho has seen all that he needs to see: they have the raw potential required to take Asia and the world by storm, but still lots of room to grow before that happens. And Yunho wants it to happen.
After the last notes fade away, Yunho is suddenly surrounded by sweaty boys bowing vigorously at him, nervous greetings of “Annyeonghaseyo, Yunho-sunbae” echoing through the cloud-background room.
“Hello,” he returns kindly. They remind him of puppies, eager to please and begging for praise. He glances at their faces and notices a boy with a red hat and eyes brighter than all the others- it’s not just adoration in his eyes- Yunho sees the familiar dedication of a fan.
When a taller boy that Yunho recalls is named Sehun subtly winks at the boy with the red hat as if to say, “Make your move,” Yunho is certain and slightly amused. Some of his fans try and hide it, but you can spot them from a mile away by the gleam in their eyes.
“Hyung,” Chanyeol says first, bolder than all the others, “How was our performance?”
“Very good,” Yunho replies honestly. He knows some of the boys by name, but the more recent additions are strangers. He asks for a brief introduction, and the boy in the red hat smiles so that the corners of his eyes crinkle softly and says, “My name is Luhan, Yunho-hyung. I’ve been your fan for a long time. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” His cheeks colour lightly and he glances away, embarrassed.
“Luhan?” Yunho asks. The boy has the slightest hint of an accent, so faint that Yunho would never have heard it if he hadn’t been good friends with Hangeng a lawsuit ago. “Are you Chinese?”
“Yes,” Luhan says politely, stepping back and giving a boy with high cheekbones a chance to introduce himself.
Yunho sticks around to watch the rest of the practice, and around 7pm their soon-to-be manager gives them a break for dinner. The boys troop out in a massive clump, naturally falling into small groups and chattering tiredly amongst themselves. Luhan however, doesn’t budge. At his side, Sehun doesn’t either.
“Sunbae-nim,” Luhan says shyly, rubbing at his arm as he approaches Yunho like a skittish deer.
“You can call me hyung,” Yunho smiles, “Well, off camera at least.”
Despite his appearance of calm, Luhan’s eyelid spasms and Yunho can sense the inner fanboy threatening to reveal itself. Frankly, it’s kind of adorable, and Yunho sees Sehun’s lips twitch slightly in amusement as well.
“Hyung,” Luhan tries again, “I know you’re super busy, but if you have any time to spare at all, I was wondering if you could teach me the Mirotic dance…” He trails off awkwardly and Yunho feels happier than he has in weeks. It must be his adoration for fanboys.
“I would love to,” he says sincerely. Dinner and Changmin can wait. It’s about time that Changmin learned to cook for himself anyway.
Luhan perks up immediately and nearly breaks his back bowing in appreciation before Sehun intervenes. “Could you teach me as well, Yunho-hyung?” the taller boy asks.
“Sure,” Yunho tells him, noticing how Luhan brightens up even further, if that were humanly possible.
Clearly his fanboy suspicions are correct, for Luhan hooks his phone up to the speakers and the familiar beats of Mirotic bounce off of the walls.
It turns out that Luhan practically knows the entire dance already and only seeks to perfect it, so Yunho goes out of his way to share all the finer details and the tips that had been precious secrets to the five of them, but no longer. Times had changed, and Yunho wanted to make sure that his hoobaes could keep the spirit alive.
Sehun on the other hand is much more of a stranger to the dance, but he picks it up at a record speed, movements blending into each other with easy fluidity and undaunted confidence.
Without their realization, the hours pass, and the moon is high in the sky by the time the two of them have the entire dance down, perhaps not perfectly, and definitely not enough to perform in front of an audience, but it’s pretty damn good.
This time around, Yunho dances with them, and he watches the two younger boys whirl behind him through the mirror. It’s different; these days he’s used to completing the routine with two people, before he never would’ve dreamed of even running through it once without five.
With three it’s odd; unsettling, even.
They’re interrupted by his ringtone, nearly obscured by the pounding music, and Yunho waves at them to continue before jogging over to pick up.
“Where are you?” Changmin barks furiously, “You said you’d be back by nine so we could go to Super Junior’s dorm together. And you didn’t feed me.”
Yunho glances at his watch and his startled to see that it’s almost midnight.
He opens his mouth to explain but is cut off by Changmin’s voice, much softer than before and now with a touch of worry, “Yunho, why is Mirotic playing in the background?”
Again, Yunho tries to explain but is distracted by the two boys in front of him. The song has ended, and Yunho takes in Luhan bouncing up and down excitedly, somehow still having enough energy even after hours of dancing. But it’s the look in Sehun’s eyes that strikes a chord within him, for the younger boy has finally let his guard down, and the warmth and affection in his eyes as he watches Luhan celebrate is eerily familiar.
And then Sehun pulls Luhan into a sweaty hug, which the other is all too eager to reciprocate. “Good job, hyung,” Yunho hears over the beginning of Mirotic, over Jaejoong’s voice, as the song plays on loop once more.
“Yunho!” Changmin is calling him frantically, bordering on panic now. “Are you out drinking again? I thought we were over it- you said you were over it!”
“I’m fine, Min,” Yunho whispers when he finds his voice again, gaze still fixated on the two boys who’ve forgotten his presence as they run through the routine yet again.
Suddenly it all makes sense- all the small things, the waiting, the dancing, the smiles, the touching. It’s so obvious now- and of course he would be the one to notice, Yunho thinks bitterly. He wonders if he’s now responsible, if he should say something, but the two boys in question are utterly clueless, and he doesn’t have the heart to step in when he doesn’t have to, because his own story has caused him enough pain already.
“I’m fine,” he repeats to a confused Changmin, “Because I’m not the one you should be worrying about.”
--
When he sees Luhan again, things are different.
They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but in Sehun’s case, all it has done is given him a bad case of heartsickness.
Every time it’s worse than the last. The countries come and go, the memories flit, tease, and disappear, and the periods of separation between them suffocate any happiness from their reunions.
Sehun leans against the wall of the waiting room with his arms crossed and his customary pokerface in place.
The makeup sticks to his face, hot and heavy, but by now he’s used to it and his fingers no longer twitch with the need to wipe it off. His clothes cling to his skin, uncomfortably tight, and Sehun absentmindedly pops an EXO logo pin off of his top and twirls it between his fingers.
The door to the waiting room opens and Yifan’s tall frame breezes through the frame.
Chanyeol jumps off the couch immediately, tossing his phone aside with a cry of, “Hyung!” Yifan grins until his eyes crinkle and the two of them exchange their customary manly embrace.
Zitao ducks in right behind him, practically beaming as he sees all the EXO K members for the first time in two months, and is immediately followed by a skipping Jongdae.
Yixing and Minseok are next, tossing their bags aside and leaning into the hugs offered by Junmyeon and Kyungsoo. From his seat where his makeup is being applied, Jongin shouts, “Finally! You guys are late!”
Baekhyun yells a mumbled, “I missed you guys!” from behind the curtains where the stylist noonas are busy fitting him with his outfit.
Jongdae calls back, “Yeah okay, I missed you too but that’s only because everyone in China refuses to speak to me in Korean. It makes one slightly desperate, you know.” Baekhyun swears at him through the curtains.
Sehun inhales. He doesn’t budge a single bit, not until he sees Luhan’s tiny face appear through the doorway, seconds later finding himself with an armful of Junmyeon while Chanyeol claps him hard on the back.
Sehun exhales, and Luhan appears before him in that moment, hands reaching up to grab his cheeks, pinching and stretching them in a directions that Sehun is sure that skin should not be pulled.
“Watch it, hyung,” Sehun sniffs, “You’re getting BB cream all over your hands.” Still, he’s unable to fight the wide smile which turns his eyes into two crescent moons, but it’s okay because Luhan reflects the expression right back at him.
“I missed you, Sehun-ah,” he mumbles, snaking arms around Sehun’s waist and burrowing his face in Sehun’s shirt. Luhan’s hair smells like mango and a hint of something exotic, and his outfit is casual, for the stylist noonas have yet to get to him.
In his haste to return the hug, Sehun doesn’t even notice the EXO pin in his hand dropping to the floor.
“We rushed here from the airport,” Luhan yawns as they settle onto the couch, his head lolling onto Sehun’s shoulder. “I’m absolutely exhausted.”
“Have you been getting enough sleep, hyung?” Sehun asks suspiciously.
“Of course!” Luhan replies cheerfully, “I’ve slept like a rock.”
Sehun doesn’t believe him for a second. Luhan has always had trouble falling asleep, needing to cuddle for ages with his stuffed animals before he would finally pass out, and even then he tosses and turns all night, nightmares assaulting him in his sleep. He mumbles away to himself in broken Mandarin, and it’s during those moments that Sehun wishes that he was just a little bit smarter and could grasp different languages with Luhan’s ease.
Luhan sense his emotions and turns the tables, “It’s been two months. You’ve been doing okay, right?”
“Of course,” Sehun echoes, his words just as empty as Luhan’s. Sehun doesn’t know why they persist in telling white lies that the other can see through like second nature, but that’s just one of the defenses they have to keep things from getting too close, too personal. From crossing that invisible line.
“You haven’t replied to my texts at all,” Luhan pouts. Sehun isn’t sure how to explain the way his fingers freeze over his phone, how he’s convinced that texting will only make the separation more painful, how it will make him wish for Luhan’s presence beside him rather then rushed words from one country to another.
He settles for, “Long distance texting costs too much.” Luhan bites his lip and lets it slide.
Luhan focuses instead on Zitao and Jongdae as they are dragged off to get their makeup done as well, and the sight makes him recall something. He turns to Sehun eagerly, previous grievances temporarily forgiven, “In Taiwan, Yixing and I went shopping at one of the night markets, and you wouldn’t believe what they had there. The bubble tea was so cheap and delicious…”
He chatters on and on excitedly, and Sehun is content just to sit back and listen, because having Luhan close by, back from EXO-M’s spin of Taiwan and Hong Kong, is more than enough.
By the time Luhan is called off in his turn by their noonas, Sehun is surprised when he discovers that his hand had been resting on Luhan’s shoulder all along. He doesn’t even remember when it got there.
Finally, they’re ready. As the minutes trickle by, Sehun is assaulted by a wave of nerves. “It’s just like any other performance,” he tells himself, but that’s not true because this is the SBS Gayo Daejun, the first and the largest of the year stages, and they’ll be performing alongside pretty much all of the other artists in the industry.
His eyes are unfocused as they leave their waiting room and walk through the hallways of the recording studio to where the stage awaits. Sehun plods along; following Baekhyun’s back blindly, until Luhan suddenly materializes in his field of vision.
“Snap out of it, maknae,” he teases gently. “We’ll give it all we’ve got, all twelve of us.”
Sehun nods, grabs for Luhan’s hand out of habit, locks their fingers together, and continues walking. They participate in the rehearsal first, running through MAMA once because it’s the only song they’ve been given a chance to perform as rookies, notwithstanding Yixing and Kai’s special stage with the rest of the SMTown dancers.
Yunho-hyung is there at the corner of the stage watching them, and Sehun bows with the rest of his members, Luhan more vehemently that the others.
When they’re done, Yunho offers them bits and pieces of advice like always, and then it’s back to the waiting room for another two hours. Jongin and Yixing leave to rehearse for their special dance stage with Yunho, and then come back half an hour later.
All too soon, they’re standing on the stage in front of thousands of fans who screaming and waving while the cameramen zoom in on their every move. Sehun dances harder than he has all year, determined not to make the careless mistakes he’s infamous for and focusing on nothing but the music under the pulsing lights.
They finish to thundering applause, and as he staggers into place in their line-up, Kyungsoo on his left and Chanyeol on his right, Sehun realizes that they’re not rookies any more. The year of their debut has passed, and from now on the path ahead will only wind further into the unknown.
As if to complete the moment, Luhan leans forward from his spot two places down and they make eye contact, because hey, Sehun was looking towards him in the first place. Luhan smiles triumphantly with the stage lights dancing across his slender frame, and in that pause, something clicks in Sehun’s head.
This feeling is more than affection, more than a simple like between friends. His subconscious had been suppressing it, with the confusion of fan service and the pressure of fame, but it had come out at last. Sehun isn’t sure what it is exactly because it’s nothing like the crushes he’s had in the past, and it isn’t remotely similar to his feelings for his ex-girlfriends. The only thing he knows is that Luhan matters too much and he has for a very long time.
The roaring in his head is not one of shock, but one of acceptance and amusement at not realizing it sooner. It drowns out almost everything else as the twelve of them troop off stage. The members are hugging each other, high-fiving, Yifan patting Zitao’s head ahead of him.
Sehun is distracted by Luhan’s arm appearing around his shoulders, but he starts to notice that something is wrong when he sees their manager’s face. It’s ashen and drawn-out, and his hand is twitching as he shepherds the twelve of them into a clump.
“What’s wrong with Yunho-hyung?” Luhan whispers into his ear, and sure enough Yunho, who had been watching them the entire time from the sidelines, is frozen in shock, all the colour draining from his face as well.
At that moment, Changmin storms into the room, a dark aura saturating the air around him. They watch in trepidation as he crosses the floor to Yunho, fury in his voice as he hisses, “They can’t do this.”
DBSK’s manager lays a hand on his arm to appease him. “It’s too late now.”
Yunho is staring blankly into the distance, not hearing a single word of the exchange.
The EXO members are stunned into silence, having never seen Changmin lose his cool in such a public space, much less Yunho seem so broken.
“What’s going on, hyung?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes popping out of their sockets as the twelve of them gather nervously around their manager.
Their hyung rubs his forehead wearily, leans in, and says, “It seems that JYJ will be performing tonight.”
part 2 (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧