There is no dusk to be, there was no dawn that was, for bluedveins
Title: There is no dusk to be, there was no dawn that was
For: bluedveins
Pairing: Sehun/Lu Han
Wordcount: ~9,400
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Lu Han lives in a teahouse and creates dreams for other people. Sehun visits him one day and becomes Lu Han’s dream instead.
:: He who binds to himself a joy ::
There is a nondescript door set in a corner of Gangnam. It’s a traditional Korean wooden one, set among a mixture of old and new buildings, as the city grows into itself, fighting the effects of occupation1. Anyone looking at it can tell the door isn’t well-maintained, but the wear and tear is not from disuse, but rather, overuse. People seldom give it a second glance, because honestly, there is nothing remarkable about it. But that’s probably the point; the people who visit this house would rather not be seen or noticed.
Mugunghwa Teahouse2 is one of the rare establishments that still exists as part of the old era, a relic of the days long gone, an anachronism that is strangely not out of place, a symbol of decadence. Master Zhou Mi runs a discreet house; the boys employed there know the right things to say and do, and the clientele runs towards the rich politicians, governors and businessmen who can afford to spend their time and money there, living out the dreams the less fortunate will never have a chance to touch. The boys still wear elaborate traditional robes, entertain clients with the gayageum3 and the art of tea, then later pleasure them with sweet words and tongues in the bedroom. Master Zhou purses his lips and frowns if anyone ever says he is selling bodies. "I sell the fulfillment of dreams," he will always correct.
Lu Han remembers the first thing Master Zhou tells him when he joins Mugunghwa. Just the day before, he had been kicking and screaming to leave, until he had finally been brought to see Master Zhou. Holding him by his chin, Master Zhou had turned Lu Han’s face, not ungently, towards the light and said in comforting Mandarin, “You have promise. Remember this however: your face may be as beautiful as a flower, but no matter how pretty a face, you will only survive if you are able to let go of your own dreams to become the embodiment of desires.”
It’s something he strived towards since that day. To become an icon of desire, a tangible dream in the city, a moment’s pause in time; all to give the men who visit him something to yearn for until they visit Mugunghwa again. Lu Han learns not to dream even though he is trained to be one. He learns never to desire anything from the day he stopped struggling and asked to be taken to Master Zhou. The day he realised his mother had left him at the back door of the teahouse in exchange for a slim sheaf of bank notes and a warm meal, never looking back. He had cried for her for five days straight, refusing to eat or sleep, until one of the attendants finally had had enough. She had slapped him across his cheek, told him his mother will never come back and he could either get his act together and meet Master Zhou, or be thrown out to die.
It took Lu Han a long time to let go, to school himself to never desire anything. Master Zhou is a kind and fair proprietor, but at the end of the day the boys are all indentured, there are debts to be paid for the years they have been clothed and fed and taught and Lu Han does not want to be in a position to desire something he will never own, because having no hope at all, is better than having hope and then it being taken from you and trampled on the ground.
But time does not matter, because Lu Han has nine long years to let go. He learns to be all that a man desires in those years. Lu Han spends hours absorbing the techniques to sit, kneel and bow, until the correct posture is burned into his muscles. He learns to roast tea, careful and measured, every step an art of balance and delicacy. He discovers he has a gracefulness of movement, and picks up dancing. Besides the arts, Master Zhou expects them all to apply themselves to books and current affairs. Calligraphy and poetry memorisation are a must. The pleasuring of the mind is not all that Mugunghwa offers, and there are, of course, the requisite classes for the teahouse boys to learn to pleasure the body. Sometimes, at night as he stares up at the ceiling before he sleeps, he wonders if he would live differently if he were given a choice.
::
Lu Han likes Mugunghwa in the winter. The cold of the season causes the stream in the courtyard to freeze, changing trickling water into shimmering ice; he likes how it makes it seem like time has been suspended. He is sitting on the deck of the main building that overlooks the garden, knees drawn up to his chest - a posture that would have the attendants scolding him for his lack of decorum, especially with his status as one of the stars of their establishment. The front panel of his outer robe has fallen to the side, and Lu Han idly rubs the simple embroidery, feeling the gold threads grate against his fingers.
He hears a noise and turns to find Yixing coming towards him, hands tucked into a muffler, ears a little red from the cold. “Come on,” he says, “it’s almost time for opening and we need to get ready. Unless you’re taking a break tonight? I’m definitely going to beat you this month then.”
Lu Han gets up, laughing. “You wish! You know Master Park will visit this week and he always gives me the largest tips.”
Sharing the muffler, they walk back towards the building which houses their rooms when they are not working, feet making tracks across the light snow which covers the courtyard.
For Lu Han, what starts out as a typical day in Mugunghwa, trying to make the best use of what free time he has before the teahouse opens for the evening, changes that night. Master Park does not make an appearance, but it does not matter.
::
Lu Han is one of the few Chinese boys at Mugunghwa who speaks Korean fluently. That, combined with his looks and ability to charm, allowed him to rise to become one of the most popular boys in the establishment, along with Yixing. He was not boasting when he told Yixing he would be the top earner again this month, although it is always a close fight.
There are many reasons for this. Lu Han is beautiful. A few months into his training, Master Zhou laughed when he had come to inspect his application of cosmetics. “I rather dislike the phrase porcelain skin,” he said, placing the back of his hand against Lu Han’s cheek. “But, for once, it appears it is an accurate description.” He had left immediately after, but Master Zhou recognises potential when he sees it, and began to procure special creams and cosmetics for Lu Han to enhance and maintain his skin.
He has wide brown eyes, which sometimes seem a bit overlarge for his small face, but an onlooker quickly forgets this detail once Lu Han turns to look them in the eye, because the way he stares seems to drag you into his person. His eyes twinkle when they are bright with laughter, and at night, when the room is dim and the only light comes from the small heater in the corner, they speak of untold pleasures.
He has a slight frame and slim waist, and his wrists are so delicate they look like they might snap if pressure is placed on them. But Lu Han has sturdy shoulders and would not necessarily lose in a fight. He’s worked hard to be this way. He is neither short nor tall, but has a way of carrying himself that makes it appear as if his height changes. Depending on the client, with a shift of his hips, he may appear smaller, vulnerable, someone they should lavish their love and money on. With another, he stands taller, becoming someone whom they may take comfort in, and Mugunghwa and his rooms become their refuge place.
The main reason Lu Han is so popular, however, is probably that he can make anyone feel at ease. It’s the reason why when he isn’t entertaining the rich Chinese tycoons who visit Seoul on business, he is usually assigned to the first-timers who need a lot of hand-holding so that they become second-, third-, fourth-timers, then finally, regulars.
::
Lu Han doesn’t have any prior appointments tonight, so he is waiting in the main lounge, keeping Yixing and his patron company, as they chat about the economy and the impact of the recent price increase in sundries. After all, Mugunghwa is reputed not only for their discretion, but also the quality and intelligence of their escorts - their clients pay premium to feel comfortable, on terms they are familiar with.
It is only half an hour after opening, however, when one of the attendants tugs on his sleeve and whispers into his ear that Master Zhou has requested his presence in his office - there is a client who wishes to be introduced tonight.
He takes his leave of Yixing and Master Wu, bowing low, before making his way up the stairs. It’s not often that Master Zhou asks him to meet a client in his office. It means this is someone whose relationship and patronage they need to cultivate, probably a potentially large source of income for the teahouse. Otherwise, usual first-timers make an appointment, and Master Zhou need not concern himself with the affair.
There is a young man (or boy, Lu Han cannot be sure) sitting in the armchair opposite Master Zhou. He is dressed in a Western-style suit which complements his pale skin, and has his hair slicked back. He sits ramrod straight, only half on the armchair, hat in his hand, as if he is ready to stand up and bolt any moment.
Lu Han smiles. He knows this type of client - unsure of what they have gotten themselves into, curious, but worried about their image. Gentle coaxing, coy words and his tongue on their skin are all that is needed to get them hooked. He walks further into the room and bows low to Master Zhou, then turns to the client and bows even lower, before kneeling on the floor before him, arranging his arms and legs in the neat, tight position that he has perfected over the years, head bowed, eyes lowered such that he knows the light is casting shadows from his eyelashes over his cheeks.
He can feel the man’s eyes upon him, and he is glad. This one is good-looking, and he has broad shoulders. His legs are long, and while Lu Han cannot say for sure how tall exactly, he is definitely taller than Lu Han. He likes the angle of his jaw, the tilt of his neck as his fair skin is reflected the light, the slight widening of his eyes and the furrow in his brow when Lu Han first walked in.
Master Zhou introduces him as Master Oh Sehun. “Master Oh, this is Lu Han. He will make you feel at home here in Mugunghwa. If you are willing, would you like the pleasure of his company tonight?”
Sehun does not answer immediately. As the silence stretches ahead of him, heavy like wet snow, Lu Han finds he is holding his breath. Then Master Oh stands, and he discovers he was right about the height. “Yes, I would be much pleased,” he says. The voice that comes out is pitched higher than he expects, and Lu Han smiles to himself as he continues keeping his gaze lowered. As far as enthusiastic goes, that was probably pretty low on the scale, but Lu Han can tell when someone is likely to be an easy conquest.
Master Zhou makes a note in his ledger before bowing them out of the room as he says, “Lu Han will show you to your room. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
The walk to the room is short, but Lu Han is tingling with anticipation. He likes it when he is at least remotely attracted to his clients, and he’s probably a lot more than “remotely” attracted to Master Oh. He doesn’t hate what he does, but when there is an extra element to help him enjoy it, he always feels a frisson of excitement.
He had asked the attendants to leave one of the windows ajar so there is a crispness in the air when he steps into his usual room. Lu Han apologises for the slight cold, to which Master Oh does not respond, so he leads him to sit among the cushions that lie on the raised platform at the end of the room, near a lit brazier that is giving out gentle warmth. Lu Han then moves to kneel in front of Master Oh, and smiles serenely up at him, eyes twinkling. Master Oh is beginning to look edgy again, having refused Lu Han’s offer of assistance to remove his suit jacket, and instead of reclining on the cushions, he is sitting cross-legged on the floor, one hand braced against it, again ready for flight.
Lu Han decides to begin with easy conversation about the teahouse, and the part it has played in keeping alive the tradition of tea over the years of modernisation, to take Master Oh’s mind off the obvious for the moment. He can feel Master Oh relaxing as one minute of conversation passes into five, then fifteen, the lines in his body easing out, becoming languid. The conversation passes into the mundane, and Master Oh takes to sharing a bit about his father’s trade in sugar.
“I just started learning a bit about the business. It’s actually really interesting so far, it’s just that I’m not used to it so I’m taking a bit more time.” Lu Han finds it really endearing that he’s so shy talking about himself and gives an encouraging nod, hoping Master Oh would share more.
“Yes, you know,” Lu Han leans forward and mock-whispers like he’s sharing a secret, “don’t ever tell Master Zhou, but the rising price of sugar is affecting us too. I do like to drink English tea in the morning, and I never have enough sugar for that.” Master Oh cracks a smile at that, so Lu Han grins back.
“Actually, I was reading in the paper the other day,” and as Lu Han speaks, he reaches for the knot of his sash, and undoes it easily, pulling off his outer robe and easing it out from under his legs, without so much as a break in conversation.
Carefully folding his blue robe, he tucks in the sleeves before setting it aside and continuing, “The prices can be controlled if people don’t get so uptight about the slight increases and start stockpiling.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Master Oh stiffen again but his eyes are trained on him; Lu Han knows his remaining robe is sheer in the lamplight. He stretches to give Master Oh a better view, then reaches around to the back where he has tucked in the ties of his inner robe and undoes them. He slowly, slowly eases one side off a shoulder, finally raising his head to look straight at Master Oh. The question in his eyes is clear. Do you like what you see?
:: Does the winged life destroy; ::
Sehun is paralysed as he watches the boy in front of him slip off his outer robe, then fold and set it aside like he’s just doing everyday chores as he continues to chat about inflation. He can’t be more than 18; and Sehun might have made a sound like a dying animal when Lu Han’s hands move to tug on the sash of his inner robe, but he is so frozen he can’t be sure.
Sehun had meant to thank him for his time in Master Zhou’s office and leave. That was it. What he hadn’t expected was to find a face so breathtakingly beautiful, with eyes so vulnerable and speaking, that he had agreed to follow him to his room and-- and what else he still isn’t sure, but this is moving in a direction that definitely wasn’t part of his plan.
He is still staring as Lu Han slips one side of his inner robe over a shoulder, all the while eyes downcast but with a small smile dancing on his lips. When Lu Han finally looks up, and those eyes that he had thought too huge at first ask, do you like what you see?, Sehun can’t take it anymore. He jumps up and drags the cloth back over the bared white rounded shoulder that is still imprinted on the back of his eyes even as he averts them. He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out; then realises his hand is still clenched tightly over the opening of Lu Han’s robe and he drops it quickly like he’s been burnt.
The look on Lu Han’s face now is undoubtedly that of hurt, mingled with confusion.
Sehun finds himself babbling before Lu Han can say anything. He knows that Lu Han has probably done this a hundred times. Lu Han has probably turned those watery eyes on a dozen other men who have denied him something or other, but Sehun can’t help explaining himself.
“Look, Lu Han, it’s not that I don’t want you, it’s just,” Sehun stops and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s a dare, okay. My friends bought me a night at Mugunghwa - with you - and they didn’t think I’d actually do it. So I decided to prove them wrong. I don’t intend to sleep with wh-- you, so thank you, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” The word “whores” had been on the tip of his tongue, but Sehun can’t bring himself to think of Lu Han as one; Lu Han has a certain delicate look about him, that seems to say he couldn’t possibly be spending his days pleasuring men.
Lu Han smiles and nods again - he does that a lot, Sehun thinks. Lu Han moves to sit on the low couch that is tucked against the other side of the room, away from the bed. It is only then that Sehun notices he’s fully dressed again; he doesn’t even remember when it happened, but Lu Han’s robes are now neatly overlapping again, sash tucked into place.
Patting the space beside him, Lu Han says, “Sure. I can understand that. Since your friends have already paid for my time though, why don’t you enjoy the teahouse and my company. I am here to entertain after all. I will make us a pot of tea, and we can chat.”
The tension in Sehun’s shoulders immediately disappears, and he feels a bit silly for expecting that Lu Han would call the teahouse’s guards and throw him out or something. It’s against his better judgment, but Sehun sits. Conversation is awkward at first, but Lu Han makes him feel at ease.
He calls for hot water and mixes them a fragrant tea, then he waves and laughs when Sehun asks him what kind it is.
“I was always better at dancing and conversation than I was with my tea lessons. It’s been eight years since I started learning to make tea, and I am still a disappointment to my teacher.”
Sehun is fascinated by the way Lu Han’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the way his long fingers curl around the teacup to steady it.
Lu Han continues in the same vein, and makes light conversation about the other skills he has picked up in his years at the teahouse. “Yixing, he’s a good friend here, he usually got the best marks at dancing. But I always beat him at maintaining conversation. There were too many things to learn, I wasn’t that great at calligraphy too but I guess I tended to excel only at the ones that really mattered.”
A pause, and then: “Pleasing men was also in my curriculum you know, and I always did score high for that.” Lu Han directs a look at Sehun and licks up a drop of escaped tea from the corner of his mouth. Sehun can feel the tips of his ears grow hot.
Surprisingly, Sehun finds he is enjoying himself. It is only when Lu Han stands in a natural break in the conversation and picks up the hat which Sehun had set aside that he realises his two hours with Lu Han are up. Lu Han ushers him towards the door. “It is a pity that time passes so quickly in your presence. I hope you enjoyed yourself, Master Oh. Thank you for giving me the pleasure of your company.”
As he moves to leave, Lu Han grabs him by the wrist. Sehun pauses, hand on the sliding door he had been about to open. Lu Han turns him around, fixes his tie and straightens his coat, before his hands smooth out his lapels and linger for a second too long that confuses Sehun.
Looking up at him under lowered lashes, Lu Han says, “Goodbye, I hope we may meet again,” pecking him quickly on the lips before he bows Sehun out.
Sehun has no recollection of how he got home that night.
::
Two weeks later finds Sehun standing outside the same wooden door he said he would never enter again. He blames his memories - the ones he has of that white shoulder, of the imprint of warmth he felt when Lu Han’s fingers had managed to easily circle his wrist, of the ghosting of warm lips across his own and Lu Han’s parted lips when he said goodbye.
It’s been exactly two weeks, and the number of hours where he doesn’t once think about Lu Han, Sehun probably can count on one hand. Lu Han occupies his thoughts when he is awake, and he sees Lu Han in his dreams, a beautiful fleeting wraith. He can’t put a finger to exactly what it is that draws him to Lu Han (yes, he is beautiful, but Sehun likes to think there has to be a less shallow reason than that), and that morning, he decided there’s not much he can do to solve the problem but to see Lu Han again.
“Master Oh. What a pleasant surprise!” but Lu Han looks far from surprised when Sehun is shown into the room by an attendant. He rises from where he was sitting on the floor practising calligraphy, and comes forward to help Sehun out of his coat and hat.
Lu Han thanks the attendant, then leads Sehun to the cushions on the raised platform once again. Clasping his hands together, he arranges himself beside Sehun and says, “I did say I hoped to see you again. I’m glad you did not disappoint me, Master Oh.”
Sehun has this distinct feeling he is being laughed at, but when he turns to look at Lu Han he’s facing straight ahead, his expression a picture of innocence. Then Lu Han turns towards him, and Sehun flushes, quickly looking down.
“I thought you said you were bad at calligraphy?” he says, by way of changing the topic, hoping Lu Han won’t ask him what brought him back, because he doesn’t know the answer to that question himself. “It looks pretty good to me.”
Laughing, Lu Han gets up and picks up his brush. “Well, I said I wasn’t that great, past tense being the key. I started spending more time on it since spring. I’m glad you think it looks good.”
He sits and starts to paint “Oh Sehun” in hanja4, pausing for a moment as he curls his brush around the first stroke into the character for “Hun”, looking up into Sehun’s eyes for confirmation, his own playful and questioning, and at that moment, Sehun knows this is probably not going to be his last visit.
Sehun watches in silence as Lu Han completes the character, then moves to draw a flower at the side that he recognises as the mugunghwa, a Rose of Sharon.
Adding one last dot with a flourish, Lu Han says, “To tell you the truth, besides characters, this flower is the only embellishment I know how to paint so far.”
He blows on the ink to dry it, before bringing the parchment to to Sehun, “I always found it interesting that the Mugunghwa Teahouse has lasted so long. I suppose you don’t name something after the eternity flower for nothing.
“Anyway, I didn’t think you would come back. What brings you here today?” The look on Lu Han’s face can only be described as mischievous and Sehun feels himself turning red for the second time in half an hour.
“I, um, just thought we could talk about calligraphy,” he lies. “It was one of the things I did better at and you mentioned you uh, um--” Sehun trails off, discomfited, because Lu Han has suddenly flung himself onto Sehun, straddling his lap, and Lu Han’s face is uncomfortably close. From his point of view, Lu Han’s collarbones are sharp and prominent, peeking out from the collar of his robe. The thought, I want to bite them, comes out of absolutely nowhere, and Sehun bites his lip instead to keep himself from saying anything, hands poised to push Lu Han off any moment.
“You, are extremely endearing. I hope I get to keep you”, he says, kissing Sehun on the nose before hopping off his lap and pulling him towards the table where more parchment and brushes lie.
“Come, show me what you know! I want to learn to paint bamboo, actually.”
Sehun supposes he is getting used to Lu Han when this sudden change of subject doesn’t even startle him anymore, and he dutifully moves to the table. There, he proceeds to spend an hour or so with Lu Han pressed up against his side, hand sometimes warm on his thigh, as they take turns painting.
When he finally gets up to leave, Lu Han holds him by his hand again, drawing circles into his palm. There is suddenly a look of vulnerability about him, an uncertainty and sincerity he feels he has never seen from Lu Han before. It makes him want to pull Lu Han close and reassure him about whatever he’s about to say.
“This slot, every Wednesday evening, I don’t have any regulars...” Lu Han’s words are hesitant as he turns those damned speaking and beautiful eyes up at him, and Sehun finds himself falling harder. “That is to say, you could make arrangements with Master Zhou if it suits you?”
A triumphant Lu Han ends up guiding Sehun to Master Zhou’s office, who carries out the necessary paperwork, appointment bookings and the matter of setting up a credit account.
::
His weekly visits evolve into something he looks forward to each week, and he likes to believe that Lu Han brightens up just that bit more when he sees him step into the lounge or his room. They spend hours drinking tea and chatting, and sometimes Lu Han dances for him. Once, Sehun had asked Lu Han to sing for him, but after a couple of lines, Lu Han had turned so pink with embarassment that Sehun had physically restrain himself from reaching out and smothering him with kisses by sitting on his hands. He meets a couple of the other boys from Mugunghwa, including Yixing, whom Lu Han mentions often when they talk.
The first few months, Lu Han would bring him to the couch, or the cushions, and settle himself next to Sehun as they talk. They start out with small things like favourite foods, things they like to do in their free time, colours that Lu Han likes to wear. Sehun only thinks to ask for Lu Han’s age on his third visit, then proceeds to fall off the couch when Lu Han calmly informs him that he is twenty-two.
“But, but that is, wait-- what, you are four years older than me? You’re lying!” Sehun’s eyes are wide and disbelieving.
Lu Han helps him back onto the couch, “Yes, you silly kid. Also thank you for letting me know that you are at least legal.”
One day, Lu Han leads him to the bed instead when he arrives, and Sehun resists when he realises what direction they are moving in. Lu Han pouts at him, “Come on, I just thought we’d be more comfortable lying down instead today. I won’t do anything, I promise.” He eyes Sehun and gives him a wicked smile, “Not much, at least.”
That day, he learns Lu Han is an orphan, or at least, considers himself one because he has no idea where his family is, or if they were even still alive. He has no siblings that he knows of, and the reason he lives in this teahouse, and has never discussed paying off his debt, is because it’s the only life he’s ever known.
Lu Han slips a hand under Sehun’s shirt and traces abstract patterns into the warm skin of his stomach. “Don’t get me wrong, I am far from unhappy in this place. But sometimes I wonder what it’s like to live outside the teahouse, doing whatever it is that I wanted to do.”
His voice is so wistful, all Sehun wants is to kiss all his pain away, so when Lu Han shifts to lean over Sehun’s chest, lips seeking his, instead of pushing him away like he usually does, Sehun lets him. As far as first kisses go, Sehun thinks he will remember this one forever. Lu Han is hesitant at first, as if he still expects Sehun to push him away belatedly. But when he makes no movement, Lu Han sighs into the kiss, soft lips brushing against Sehun’s, then slowly opening up as he leans further into the kiss. Sehun brings a hand up to rest on Lu Han’s hips and when he feels a tongue running along the seam of his lips, he welcomes Lu Han in, kisses him back, hoping Lu Han can feel the comfort he is trying to convey with his lips.
::
Shortly after that night, Sehun misses his visits for a couple of weeks. When he next walks into the lounge of Mugunghwa, Lu Han pointedly turns his back to him and continues speaking to YIxing just that bit louder. Yixing catches his eye and shrugs as if to say, “he’s a kid, hard to change that.”
He sneaks up on Lu Han and pulls him around for a peck on the lips, laughing when Lu Han pouts and asks, “Where have you been?” Yixing laughs too, but gets a jab in the side and a sharp look from Lu Han when he jokes about Lu Han playing favourites.
When they are arranged on Lu Han’s bed, with Lu Han settled between Sehun’s legs, back against his chest, their hands intertwined on Lu Han’s lap, Sehun tells him more about his father’s sugar business.
“I’m sorry I haven’t visited the last two weeks. My father suddenly decided I needed to make a trip to Busan to check on the sugar factories we have there.” He sighs. “Those are the ones he wants me to take over eventually, while my elder brother oversees the business here in Seoul.”
“Well, you’re moving upward and onward in life, Master Oh! It’s good your father is allowing you to take on more responsibility, isn’t it?” Lu Han squirms to get more comfortable. “You mentioned several weeks back that you wanted him to trust you more?”
“Yeah, but I’m honestly not looking forward to having to make these trips more often. I’m not even sure if this is what I want to do in life.”
Lu Han shifts so he can look up at Sehun’s face better. He stares at Sehun for a while, then presses kisses up his neck and buries his face against Sehun’s clavicle. “Very soon you will be too busy to come see me,” Lu Han whispers. “Promise me you won’t forget me?”
“Don’t be silly Lu Han, I lov--”, Sehun stops. “Of course I won’t forget you.”
They don’t talk very much that night, but instead sit in comfortable silence, sharing the same air, as Lu Han stays snug in Sehun’s embrace.
::
It is around the middle of autumn, cool and crisp, leaves turning golden, when Sehun comes back earlier than expected from one of his trips to Busan. He decides to drop by Mugunghwa without prior appointment to see if Lu Han is available.
He has just reached the door when he notices someone familiar crossing the threshold, obviously on his way out, with one of the attendants bowing him out the door. Sehun realises it’s Jongin, one of his best friends who had bought him that first night with Lu Han.
Jongin stops just short of running into Sehun and looks up, recognising who it is.
“Hey, if it isn’t the man himself, Oh Sehun! I was just asking Lu Han about you earlier and if he made sure you enjoyed yourself that time we bought you a night.” He grins and smacks Sehun on the chest. “You didn’t tell me you were making it a habit to come. Must be nice being able to afford such an expensive hobby.”
Sehun’s mind is whirring, and the implications of Jongin’s words are settling into his brain, like mist descending into a city. “Were you just with Lu Han?” he asks, slowly, words measured, arms stiff at his side.
Jongin stops smiling, and says carefully, “Yes, I visit him from time to time. I’ve known him for ages now, how do you think I got you an appointment in the first place?”
At that, Sehun punches Jongin. One moment he’s talking to Jongin, the next, Jongin is on the floor holding his jaw, and Sehun’s right hand is beginning to feel hot.
“What the hell, Sehun! What was that for?”
“Don’t ever touch Lu Han again,” Sehun’s face is white with anger as he stares down at Jongin.
And then Jongin’s expression changes, understanding dawning on his face; he hasn’t been friends with Sehun for fifteen years for nothing.
“Wait-- you love him. Or at least you think you’ve fallen in love with him.” Jongin stands and places a hand on Sehun’s shoulder. “Don’t be stupid, Sehun. You’re a fool to love a whore. You will never have him to yourself and you shouldn’t believe anything Lu Han tells you anyway, he’s paid to say the things you want to hear! He tells me he loves me all the time!”
This just makes Sehun more furious because it’s been months, and not once has he ever heard Lu Han say anything like that to him. He shoves Jongin away hard and lashes out, “Don’t you dare call him a whore!”
Sehun dimly registers that the altercation has brought the guard at the door out to see what is happening, but anger is clouding his mind and everything else but Jongin’s words are a haze to him.
“What about that Park family girl, the one your father just settled the arranged marriage with? You’ve been having a good time showing her the sights of Busan right? C’mon, Sehun, you were supposed to just have a bit of fun before you went and contracted yourself out like that, it’s why we bought it for you in the first place. You weren’t supposed to go and fall in love!”
At that moment, Sehun hears a familliar voice that makes his heart drop and he turns to find Lu Han standing at the door, eyebrows drawn together, his eyes huge and black, sucking in the moonlight that’s shining on them.
“Master Kim, Master Oh, what is going on?” Lu Han asks, and Sehun wants to run forward, wants to take him by the shoulders and ask Lu Han how much he’s heard.
Lu Han’s posture is stiff and unforgiving however, and he continues, “I’m afraid I will have to ask you to take this somewhere else, before you disturb our other patrons.”
Jongin dusts himself off and tugs on Sehun’s arm. “Let’s go, Sehun. Let’s talk about this somewhere else.”
Sehun lets himself get pulled away but his gaze never leaves Lu Han, who stands there like a small statue in a puddle of moonlight, until they turn around a corner out of sight.
::
When the time finally comes around for Sehun’s weekly appointment, he almost flies up the stairs the moment he is let over Mugunghwa’s threshold, pausing to catch his breath only when he opens the door to Lu Han’s room and sees him sitting there, mixing tea. He steps in and closes the door, leaning his back against it and sliding down as he dashes the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that has gathered. He doesn’t know why, but he had been afraid Lu Han would be gone.
Lu Han looks up and murmurs a greeting, but doesn’t move from his position.
“Look, look, I don’t know how much you heard, but I can explain it all--” Sehun starts desperately, fumbling at the right words to say. “What I mean to say is, I mean I know it’s your job but--” He doesn’t get very far when Lu Han comes forward to kneel in front of him, puts a finger to his lips.
“Shhh,” Lu Han tells him, “it’s alright. Let me just--” and then Lu Han’s hands are moving to his collar, loosening the knot of his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons. There is a desperation about the way Lu Han draws him close, pulls him up and leads him to the bed, saying, “Please, please let me, tonight...”
Sehun knows all the things he’s told himself about resisting Lu Han are culminating right in this moment, but he can’t bring himself to stop Lu Han when he can feel the desperation on his fingertips, in his every breath, on his lips now mouthing at the corner of Sehun’s own. It’s the sudden thought, that soon I will be like the rest of Lu Han’s clients who pay him to own his body, that makes him grab Lu Han’s hands and tilt his chin up to look into his eyes.
All Sehun sees in them are desire, desire that he’s caught glimpses of in the past few months, hidden under a playful, flippant mask. Lu Han is breathless now, “Sehun, please. I want this. I know you want it too, I can see it in the way your eyes follow my every movement, so why do you always pretend like you don’t? I want you, please.”
So Sehun lets him, and then it’s like someone starts the clock again; time is no longer suspended as Lu Han guides him to the bed, his actions have lost that desperate edge, and it feels like they are learning about each other all over again. Lu Han’s lips slide against his own, while his hands are busy, untucking Sehun’s shirt from his pants, running flat palms under the hem of his shirt over and over Sehun’s chest, grasping, touching, learning. Sehun feels the back of his knees hit the bed, and he sits, pulling Lu Han onto his lap. There is no break, no pause, just them and the moment; Sehun leans up to slip his tongue into Lu Han’s mouth. His hands are heavy on Lu Han’s hips for a second, then move up to tug on the ends of his sash.
“Race you,” Lu Han suddenly says. “Let’s see who can get the other out of their clothes first.” And then he’s laughing and ripping at the rest of Sehun’s buttons, shoving the shirt off his shoulders before attacking Sehun’s belt. Sehun thinks this is a piece of cake. Lu Han’s robe has no stupid clasps or buttons, surely a couple of tugs later and he would be the winner.
He underestimates Lu Han. Sehun’s only managed to pull off the outer layer when Lu Han’s already got him stark naked, but honestly, Sehun is too distracted to care who wins because then Lu Han is wrapping a soft, small hand around his cock and stroking him to full hardness. But Lu Han suddenly pushes himself off Sehun and rolls onto the bed, completely removing himself from Sehun’s touch. “Winner gets to stop when he wants to!”
“You are such a tease, I don’t know why I love you.”
The words are out of Sehun’s mouth before he can stop them, but there’s nothing that can be done. Lu Han’s smile dims, but he doesn’t say anything, so Sehun takes the chance to grab Lu Han and climb over him, straddling his waist. He can’t take his eyes off Lu Han as he pulls open the two sides of Lu Han’s inner robe to bare his chest, or stop his breath from hitching when he finally does. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers against Lu Han’s lips, and Lu Han turns his face away smiling.
Sehun leans down to pepper kisses along Lu Han’s breastbone, and Lu Han is making little noises of agreement that Sehun files away in his store of memories, the one that keeps him going until the next time he sees Lu Han again, when Sehun realises he’s not quite sure what happens next, and goes still.
Lu Han props himself up on one elbow to peer down at Sehun, his voice husky with want. “What’s the problem, why are you stopping?”
“Uh, I don’t really know what comes next?” Then Sehun is blushing so furiously he wonders if he could get any more unsexy at a moment like this. But Lu Han is laughing and pulling Sehun down onto the bed instead, clambering over him to sit on his chest.
The grin he throws Sehun can only be described as wicked as he says, “You should let the one who knows what he’s doing top next time. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you and you will know what to do.”
Then Lu Han is slicking up his fingers with lube he magicks out of nowhere and Sehun’s eyes grow wide because is he going to-- but Lu Han braces his feet against the bed on either side of Sehun and lifts his hips up and then he is sliding a finger into himself and Sehun has to remember to breathe. Lu Han’s eyes are closed as he sinks one finger in and out for what seems like an eternity, then adds a second, fucking himself open, and Sehun cannot stop staring at the way Lu Han’s skin stretches around his fingers. He reaches out to trace the ring of muscle that Lu Han is continuing to thrust his fingers into and Lu Han lets out a sob.
Pulling his fingers out, Lu Han grabs the lube and drizzles some on Sehun’s hand and babbles c’mon, you instead, want you and Sehun is slipping two fingers in, marveling at the tight, warm heat and the effect he is having on Lu Han. Lu Han has slumped forward, forehead resting on Sehun’s shoulder, and he can feel Lu Han breathing heavily into his chest, falling apart as Sehun slips his fingers in as far as they will go and hooks the tips. “More,” Lu Han says, “add another one please.” So Sehun adds a third finger and the mewling sounds that Lu Han makes when he does has Sehun feeling like he could continue to do this forever, even though he’s so hard that it’s actually starting to hurt.
But Lu Han is suddenly batting his hand away and gasping, “stop, stop, enough” and Sehun freezes because he’s not sure what he’s done wrong now. Lu Han sits up and giggles when he sees the look on Sehun’s face. “Stop furrowing your brow. Nothing’s wrong, I just want to do this--”
And then Sehun is the one who’s gasping now, as Lu Han raises himself up, then guides Sehun’s cock in as Lu Han sinks slowly down onto him, inch by inch. “Oh fuck,” Sehun bites out, “I didn’t think you’d, Lu Han, bloody hell” and his coherence is shot to pieces as Lu Han lifts himself up again, and then slides back down onto Sehun’s cock, over and over. Sehun begins to thrust his hips up to meet Lu Han, and Lu Han says, “told you you’d know what to do”, before bracing his hands on Sehun’s chest, throwing his head backwards in pleasure at a particularly strong thrust.
Sehun pushes himself up into a sitting position and his fingers are pressing tight into Lu Han’s hips as he pulls down at the same time he thrusts up, creating an inelegant rhythm that causes Lu Han to cry out, his eyes screwed shut. Sehun reaches between their bodies to pull at Lu Han’s cock, matching the pace he’s moving at within Lu Han, and he groans at the way Lu Han clenches tight around him in response. “Lu Han, Lu Han, you are so perfect,” Sehun repeats like a mantra as he kisses Lu Han’s eyelids, his nose, his lips.
They move together, push and pull, give and take, for a long while then Lu Han is arching against him and spilling over Sehun’s fingers, burying the cry he makes in Sehun’s shoulder as he comes. Sehun thrusts up a few more times, shallow and quick, and he can feel Lu Han clenching around him again before he’s coming too.
As they lie together, sated and languid, Lu Han whispers into his ear, his voice is hushed and brittle, “My mother left me at Mugunghwa when I was seven. I never knew my father, I pretend like I don’t care but I wish I had a family. I love sweet things more than savoury, I like to play with cherry blossoms in the spring and catch snowflakes in the winter. One day, I hope to live together with someone who loves me for who I am and won’t judge me for what I have become.”
Sehun shushes him, “shhh, you will have that, you have me,” and he finds that Lu Han is crying and so kisses those tears away.
When Lu Han’s tears come to a stop, he rolls off Sehun, reaching across him to take a wet cloth from the bedside table and wipes Sehun down, then himself.
“Stop staring at me, Sehun.”
“But I like your face.”
Lu Han blushes, but continues cleaning up as best as he can, and then crawls back under Sehun’s arm, pulling the covers over themselves, pushing his face into Sehun’s neck and that is how Sehun falls asleep.
::
Some time later, Sehun shifts awake and checks the clock on the wall. It’s been about an hour since they fell asleep, and he probably needs to go soon. As it is, he’s already overstayed his usual appointment but the sweet warmth of Lu Han at his side makes him want to linger a little bit longer. Turning, he finds that Lu Han is taking his turn to stare at him, but the soft vulnerable look in his eyes is gone, and in its place is something steely that Sehun thinks he should probably feel worried about.
He pulls Lu Han closer to him, and in his sleep-fuddled state, says, “I love you, Lu Han. Let’s run away together.”
Sehun feels the rejection before he hears it. Lu Han stiffening in his arms, the sharp intake of breath, the tensing of Lu Han’s palms against his chest.
Before he realises it, Lu Han has rolled out of his arms and is quickly donning his robe. “I thank you for your time, Master Oh. I’m glad you enjoyed my company so much we exceeded the time, but I’m sure Master Zhou will settle the bill accordingly.”
Sehun is confused. Pulling the covers toward himself, he reaches out to Lu Han who flinches away from his touch. “I don’t understand, what--”
Whirling around, Lu Han turns and suddenly he seems tall, self-assured, looking down from where he stands at Sehun.
“You are so naive, Oh Sehun. Why do you believe the words of a whore? Did you believe everything I told you about my mother and wanting a family? Grow up, boy. You are living in a dream world where everything is handed to you on a silver platter. Not everyone else is so lucky.
“You love me? You love me? Do you know what love is, Master Oh? The second you tell anyone else about me, they will laugh at you or drive you out of your home if they thought to believe you. What do you know of love, when you come and let me warm you at night, and then the next day you head back to being respectable Second Master Oh of Oh Sugar Refiners, to take tea at the hotel with your equally respectable fiancée?
Lu Han’s words are bitter and cold, they bite Sehun like January frost, and he is too stunned to respond as Lu Han continues.
“I put on a show to please men, to keep them coming back. I say what you want to hear, act the part you want me to play. The money that comes in is always handy, you see. The world is a cruel place I’m afraid, so I have to rely on the things I know.
“I don’t want to carry this on with you any longer, I’m sorry. Especially not if there is an innocent woman you are hurting involved. Please go. Settle your bill with Master Zhou and don’t come back. If you must come, you will no longer be allowed to request for me - I have at least that much freedom.”
Leaning down, Lu Han places a palm against Sehun’s jaw, and for a second, Sehun sees a flash of sadness in those eyes. “Take tonight as a parting gift,” Lu Han moves close and kisses Sehun hard, biting his bottom lip, tongue sweeping along the roof of Sehun’s mouth before he turns to go.
As he leaves, Sehun calls out, “I never thought of you as a whore, Lu Han, you were a fulfiller of my dreams.”
Lu Han barely pauses at that and continues out of the room.
:: But he who kisses the joy as it flies ::
All the things Lu Han has told himself about never desiring, never loving have shattered around him as he leaves the room. He had known, maybe from the second visit, when Sehun had taught him to paint bamboo, and Sehun’s laughing eyes had disappeared into two half-moons, that he had to stop himself before he was in too deep.
But the mind is a powerful thing, and he had willed himself to ignore it as Sehun kept coming back, and he was sweet, and endearing, and he listened, and Lu Han’s mistakes probably began with letting himself feel attraction even at that first meeting.
After the night Sehun met Master Kim outside Mugunghwa, Master Zhou had called him to his office and spoken to him about letting patrons get too attached.
That was the first time Lu Han had shown any kind of emotion in front of Master Zhou. “Please,” he had begged, quickly getting to his knees, “I’ll tone it down. Please let me continue to serve Master Oh.”
But Master Zhou had been firm. Looking at Lu Han with understanding, he had said, “I know the consequences of falling in love when you work in this teahouse, Lu Han, and this is the kindest way for it to end.”
“I never thought of you as a whore, Lu Han, you were a fulfiller of my dreams.” Lu Han’s steps almost falter at Sehun’s words, but he forces himself to walk on, to pretend like there are no tears streaming down his face.
::
Sehun tries to see Lu Han a few more times, but by the third time he insists he will only see Lu Han and no one else, Master Zhou warns him that difficult customers are barred from entering the premises ever again. Yixing tells Lu Han that Sehun doesn’t visit again after that.
Several months later, as winter is ending and the last of the frost on the leaves is melting, Lu Han is delivered a note card with pressed mugunghwa petals. It read, “I’m moving to Busan tomorrow. I won’t forget for an eternity.”
Lu Han fingers the card idly, turning it this way and that, to see light bounce off the pale petals. I wonder if you live all day in memories of me, Sehun, he thinks. Because everyday, all Lu Han does is try to forget. In his chores, when he chats with Yixing, when he lets another man press into him at night, he does it so that he can try to forget. He knows now, that he should have worked harder to deny himself because this empty ache inside him is more painful than anything, and the ache would never have to fester like this if he had stopped himself.
::
It’s three years later, and Lu Han is sitting in the front room of the shop he shares with Yixing, painting a commissioned calligraphy piece. Yixing is at the back, teaching a small class of children traditional dance. It has only been about six months since he had finally completed paying off his indenture to Master Zhou and it surprises even him, how easy it’s been adapting to this new life.
The bell on their shop door chimes and Lu Han looks up, smiling.
His call of “Welcome!” dies quickly on his lips, because it’s Oh Sehun, and he looks the same, only a little bit more tired, but still tall and pale and beautiful. Sehun hasn’t looked up yet. Instead, he is helping a beautiful woman pull a baby stroller into the shop, in which a happy toddler gurgles. The lady is saying, “I thought we might get some calligraphy for your father’s birthday this time around,” as she hangs on to Sehun’s arm.
Lu Han is gripping his desk so tightly, his knuckles are white and he has crushed the parchment he was working on beyond repair. He contemplates dashing out the back door and sending Yixing to deal with them, but it’s too late. Sehun has seen him and he’s stepping forward and Lu Han’s dismay must be showing on his face because Sehun stops and puts out a hand, like he’s reassuring a wounded deer, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.
He turns to the woman and says, “Sister-in-law, why don’t you wait for me outside with Hyelim? I’ll just settle this and be right out.”
Once the woman is out the door, Sehun says conversationally, “My father still doesn’t forgive me for turning down that arranged marriage, you know. Or every single one of the others he’s tried to push upon me for that matter.
“Did you ever think of me Lu Han? Do you know that I spend every waking hour with you in my thoughts, and every sleeping one dreaming of you?
Lu Han still doesn’t say anything, so Sehun continues. “I’ve just moved back to Seoul. I promise you, waiting for three years means I can wait for another three for you until you’re ready. So let’s try this again.”
Sehun steps close to Lu Han and proffers his hand, “Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Oh Sehun, would you do me the honour of having dinner with me?”
And Lu Han thinks, maybe, maybe it’s okay to finally desire things for himself after all.
:: Lives in eternity's sun rise. ::
fin.
A/N: Written for bluedveins as part of runandgun. Prompts given were "I wonder if you live all day in memories of me." and/or "accismus: feigning disinterest in something while actually desiring it". Almost everything good in this fic is from my beta because she held my hand.
additional notes:
1 This AU is set around the 1930s, I’m very sorry for any possible historical inaccuracies.
2 The Mugunghwa/무궁화/無窮花 is Korea’s national flower, and the flower’s symbolic significance stems from the Korean word mugung, which means “eternity”.
3 The gayageum is a traditional Korean stringed instrument, you can read more about it on wiki.
4 Hanja is the Korean name for Chinese characters and was the previous traditional form of writing. You can read more about it on wiki.
5 Fun fact: K-Y Jelly was introduced in January 1904. Please give international trade a bit of leeway.
6 The poem used to separate each change of perspective is “Eternity” by William Blake. Original, I know.
For: bluedveins
Pairing: Sehun/Lu Han
Wordcount: ~9,400
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Lu Han lives in a teahouse and creates dreams for other people. Sehun visits him one day and becomes Lu Han’s dream instead.
:: He who binds to himself a joy ::
There is a nondescript door set in a corner of Gangnam. It’s a traditional Korean wooden one, set among a mixture of old and new buildings, as the city grows into itself, fighting the effects of occupation1. Anyone looking at it can tell the door isn’t well-maintained, but the wear and tear is not from disuse, but rather, overuse. People seldom give it a second glance, because honestly, there is nothing remarkable about it. But that’s probably the point; the people who visit this house would rather not be seen or noticed.
Mugunghwa Teahouse2 is one of the rare establishments that still exists as part of the old era, a relic of the days long gone, an anachronism that is strangely not out of place, a symbol of decadence. Master Zhou Mi runs a discreet house; the boys employed there know the right things to say and do, and the clientele runs towards the rich politicians, governors and businessmen who can afford to spend their time and money there, living out the dreams the less fortunate will never have a chance to touch. The boys still wear elaborate traditional robes, entertain clients with the gayageum3 and the art of tea, then later pleasure them with sweet words and tongues in the bedroom. Master Zhou purses his lips and frowns if anyone ever says he is selling bodies. "I sell the fulfillment of dreams," he will always correct.
Lu Han remembers the first thing Master Zhou tells him when he joins Mugunghwa. Just the day before, he had been kicking and screaming to leave, until he had finally been brought to see Master Zhou. Holding him by his chin, Master Zhou had turned Lu Han’s face, not ungently, towards the light and said in comforting Mandarin, “You have promise. Remember this however: your face may be as beautiful as a flower, but no matter how pretty a face, you will only survive if you are able to let go of your own dreams to become the embodiment of desires.”
It’s something he strived towards since that day. To become an icon of desire, a tangible dream in the city, a moment’s pause in time; all to give the men who visit him something to yearn for until they visit Mugunghwa again. Lu Han learns not to dream even though he is trained to be one. He learns never to desire anything from the day he stopped struggling and asked to be taken to Master Zhou. The day he realised his mother had left him at the back door of the teahouse in exchange for a slim sheaf of bank notes and a warm meal, never looking back. He had cried for her for five days straight, refusing to eat or sleep, until one of the attendants finally had had enough. She had slapped him across his cheek, told him his mother will never come back and he could either get his act together and meet Master Zhou, or be thrown out to die.
It took Lu Han a long time to let go, to school himself to never desire anything. Master Zhou is a kind and fair proprietor, but at the end of the day the boys are all indentured, there are debts to be paid for the years they have been clothed and fed and taught and Lu Han does not want to be in a position to desire something he will never own, because having no hope at all, is better than having hope and then it being taken from you and trampled on the ground.
But time does not matter, because Lu Han has nine long years to let go. He learns to be all that a man desires in those years. Lu Han spends hours absorbing the techniques to sit, kneel and bow, until the correct posture is burned into his muscles. He learns to roast tea, careful and measured, every step an art of balance and delicacy. He discovers he has a gracefulness of movement, and picks up dancing. Besides the arts, Master Zhou expects them all to apply themselves to books and current affairs. Calligraphy and poetry memorisation are a must. The pleasuring of the mind is not all that Mugunghwa offers, and there are, of course, the requisite classes for the teahouse boys to learn to pleasure the body. Sometimes, at night as he stares up at the ceiling before he sleeps, he wonders if he would live differently if he were given a choice.
::
Lu Han likes Mugunghwa in the winter. The cold of the season causes the stream in the courtyard to freeze, changing trickling water into shimmering ice; he likes how it makes it seem like time has been suspended. He is sitting on the deck of the main building that overlooks the garden, knees drawn up to his chest - a posture that would have the attendants scolding him for his lack of decorum, especially with his status as one of the stars of their establishment. The front panel of his outer robe has fallen to the side, and Lu Han idly rubs the simple embroidery, feeling the gold threads grate against his fingers.
He hears a noise and turns to find Yixing coming towards him, hands tucked into a muffler, ears a little red from the cold. “Come on,” he says, “it’s almost time for opening and we need to get ready. Unless you’re taking a break tonight? I’m definitely going to beat you this month then.”
Lu Han gets up, laughing. “You wish! You know Master Park will visit this week and he always gives me the largest tips.”
Sharing the muffler, they walk back towards the building which houses their rooms when they are not working, feet making tracks across the light snow which covers the courtyard.
For Lu Han, what starts out as a typical day in Mugunghwa, trying to make the best use of what free time he has before the teahouse opens for the evening, changes that night. Master Park does not make an appearance, but it does not matter.
::
Lu Han is one of the few Chinese boys at Mugunghwa who speaks Korean fluently. That, combined with his looks and ability to charm, allowed him to rise to become one of the most popular boys in the establishment, along with Yixing. He was not boasting when he told Yixing he would be the top earner again this month, although it is always a close fight.
There are many reasons for this. Lu Han is beautiful. A few months into his training, Master Zhou laughed when he had come to inspect his application of cosmetics. “I rather dislike the phrase porcelain skin,” he said, placing the back of his hand against Lu Han’s cheek. “But, for once, it appears it is an accurate description.” He had left immediately after, but Master Zhou recognises potential when he sees it, and began to procure special creams and cosmetics for Lu Han to enhance and maintain his skin.
He has wide brown eyes, which sometimes seem a bit overlarge for his small face, but an onlooker quickly forgets this detail once Lu Han turns to look them in the eye, because the way he stares seems to drag you into his person. His eyes twinkle when they are bright with laughter, and at night, when the room is dim and the only light comes from the small heater in the corner, they speak of untold pleasures.
He has a slight frame and slim waist, and his wrists are so delicate they look like they might snap if pressure is placed on them. But Lu Han has sturdy shoulders and would not necessarily lose in a fight. He’s worked hard to be this way. He is neither short nor tall, but has a way of carrying himself that makes it appear as if his height changes. Depending on the client, with a shift of his hips, he may appear smaller, vulnerable, someone they should lavish their love and money on. With another, he stands taller, becoming someone whom they may take comfort in, and Mugunghwa and his rooms become their refuge place.
The main reason Lu Han is so popular, however, is probably that he can make anyone feel at ease. It’s the reason why when he isn’t entertaining the rich Chinese tycoons who visit Seoul on business, he is usually assigned to the first-timers who need a lot of hand-holding so that they become second-, third-, fourth-timers, then finally, regulars.
::
Lu Han doesn’t have any prior appointments tonight, so he is waiting in the main lounge, keeping Yixing and his patron company, as they chat about the economy and the impact of the recent price increase in sundries. After all, Mugunghwa is reputed not only for their discretion, but also the quality and intelligence of their escorts - their clients pay premium to feel comfortable, on terms they are familiar with.
It is only half an hour after opening, however, when one of the attendants tugs on his sleeve and whispers into his ear that Master Zhou has requested his presence in his office - there is a client who wishes to be introduced tonight.
He takes his leave of Yixing and Master Wu, bowing low, before making his way up the stairs. It’s not often that Master Zhou asks him to meet a client in his office. It means this is someone whose relationship and patronage they need to cultivate, probably a potentially large source of income for the teahouse. Otherwise, usual first-timers make an appointment, and Master Zhou need not concern himself with the affair.
There is a young man (or boy, Lu Han cannot be sure) sitting in the armchair opposite Master Zhou. He is dressed in a Western-style suit which complements his pale skin, and has his hair slicked back. He sits ramrod straight, only half on the armchair, hat in his hand, as if he is ready to stand up and bolt any moment.
Lu Han smiles. He knows this type of client - unsure of what they have gotten themselves into, curious, but worried about their image. Gentle coaxing, coy words and his tongue on their skin are all that is needed to get them hooked. He walks further into the room and bows low to Master Zhou, then turns to the client and bows even lower, before kneeling on the floor before him, arranging his arms and legs in the neat, tight position that he has perfected over the years, head bowed, eyes lowered such that he knows the light is casting shadows from his eyelashes over his cheeks.
He can feel the man’s eyes upon him, and he is glad. This one is good-looking, and he has broad shoulders. His legs are long, and while Lu Han cannot say for sure how tall exactly, he is definitely taller than Lu Han. He likes the angle of his jaw, the tilt of his neck as his fair skin is reflected the light, the slight widening of his eyes and the furrow in his brow when Lu Han first walked in.
Master Zhou introduces him as Master Oh Sehun. “Master Oh, this is Lu Han. He will make you feel at home here in Mugunghwa. If you are willing, would you like the pleasure of his company tonight?”
Sehun does not answer immediately. As the silence stretches ahead of him, heavy like wet snow, Lu Han finds he is holding his breath. Then Master Oh stands, and he discovers he was right about the height. “Yes, I would be much pleased,” he says. The voice that comes out is pitched higher than he expects, and Lu Han smiles to himself as he continues keeping his gaze lowered. As far as enthusiastic goes, that was probably pretty low on the scale, but Lu Han can tell when someone is likely to be an easy conquest.
Master Zhou makes a note in his ledger before bowing them out of the room as he says, “Lu Han will show you to your room. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
The walk to the room is short, but Lu Han is tingling with anticipation. He likes it when he is at least remotely attracted to his clients, and he’s probably a lot more than “remotely” attracted to Master Oh. He doesn’t hate what he does, but when there is an extra element to help him enjoy it, he always feels a frisson of excitement.
He had asked the attendants to leave one of the windows ajar so there is a crispness in the air when he steps into his usual room. Lu Han apologises for the slight cold, to which Master Oh does not respond, so he leads him to sit among the cushions that lie on the raised platform at the end of the room, near a lit brazier that is giving out gentle warmth. Lu Han then moves to kneel in front of Master Oh, and smiles serenely up at him, eyes twinkling. Master Oh is beginning to look edgy again, having refused Lu Han’s offer of assistance to remove his suit jacket, and instead of reclining on the cushions, he is sitting cross-legged on the floor, one hand braced against it, again ready for flight.
Lu Han decides to begin with easy conversation about the teahouse, and the part it has played in keeping alive the tradition of tea over the years of modernisation, to take Master Oh’s mind off the obvious for the moment. He can feel Master Oh relaxing as one minute of conversation passes into five, then fifteen, the lines in his body easing out, becoming languid. The conversation passes into the mundane, and Master Oh takes to sharing a bit about his father’s trade in sugar.
“I just started learning a bit about the business. It’s actually really interesting so far, it’s just that I’m not used to it so I’m taking a bit more time.” Lu Han finds it really endearing that he’s so shy talking about himself and gives an encouraging nod, hoping Master Oh would share more.
“Yes, you know,” Lu Han leans forward and mock-whispers like he’s sharing a secret, “don’t ever tell Master Zhou, but the rising price of sugar is affecting us too. I do like to drink English tea in the morning, and I never have enough sugar for that.” Master Oh cracks a smile at that, so Lu Han grins back.
“Actually, I was reading in the paper the other day,” and as Lu Han speaks, he reaches for the knot of his sash, and undoes it easily, pulling off his outer robe and easing it out from under his legs, without so much as a break in conversation.
Carefully folding his blue robe, he tucks in the sleeves before setting it aside and continuing, “The prices can be controlled if people don’t get so uptight about the slight increases and start stockpiling.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Master Oh stiffen again but his eyes are trained on him; Lu Han knows his remaining robe is sheer in the lamplight. He stretches to give Master Oh a better view, then reaches around to the back where he has tucked in the ties of his inner robe and undoes them. He slowly, slowly eases one side off a shoulder, finally raising his head to look straight at Master Oh. The question in his eyes is clear. Do you like what you see?
:: Does the winged life destroy; ::
Sehun is paralysed as he watches the boy in front of him slip off his outer robe, then fold and set it aside like he’s just doing everyday chores as he continues to chat about inflation. He can’t be more than 18; and Sehun might have made a sound like a dying animal when Lu Han’s hands move to tug on the sash of his inner robe, but he is so frozen he can’t be sure.
Sehun had meant to thank him for his time in Master Zhou’s office and leave. That was it. What he hadn’t expected was to find a face so breathtakingly beautiful, with eyes so vulnerable and speaking, that he had agreed to follow him to his room and-- and what else he still isn’t sure, but this is moving in a direction that definitely wasn’t part of his plan.
He is still staring as Lu Han slips one side of his inner robe over a shoulder, all the while eyes downcast but with a small smile dancing on his lips. When Lu Han finally looks up, and those eyes that he had thought too huge at first ask, do you like what you see?, Sehun can’t take it anymore. He jumps up and drags the cloth back over the bared white rounded shoulder that is still imprinted on the back of his eyes even as he averts them. He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out; then realises his hand is still clenched tightly over the opening of Lu Han’s robe and he drops it quickly like he’s been burnt.
The look on Lu Han’s face now is undoubtedly that of hurt, mingled with confusion.
Sehun finds himself babbling before Lu Han can say anything. He knows that Lu Han has probably done this a hundred times. Lu Han has probably turned those watery eyes on a dozen other men who have denied him something or other, but Sehun can’t help explaining himself.
“Look, Lu Han, it’s not that I don’t want you, it’s just,” Sehun stops and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s a dare, okay. My friends bought me a night at Mugunghwa - with you - and they didn’t think I’d actually do it. So I decided to prove them wrong. I don’t intend to sleep with wh-- you, so thank you, I’m so sorry for wasting your time.” The word “whores” had been on the tip of his tongue, but Sehun can’t bring himself to think of Lu Han as one; Lu Han has a certain delicate look about him, that seems to say he couldn’t possibly be spending his days pleasuring men.
Lu Han smiles and nods again - he does that a lot, Sehun thinks. Lu Han moves to sit on the low couch that is tucked against the other side of the room, away from the bed. It is only then that Sehun notices he’s fully dressed again; he doesn’t even remember when it happened, but Lu Han’s robes are now neatly overlapping again, sash tucked into place.
Patting the space beside him, Lu Han says, “Sure. I can understand that. Since your friends have already paid for my time though, why don’t you enjoy the teahouse and my company. I am here to entertain after all. I will make us a pot of tea, and we can chat.”
The tension in Sehun’s shoulders immediately disappears, and he feels a bit silly for expecting that Lu Han would call the teahouse’s guards and throw him out or something. It’s against his better judgment, but Sehun sits. Conversation is awkward at first, but Lu Han makes him feel at ease.
He calls for hot water and mixes them a fragrant tea, then he waves and laughs when Sehun asks him what kind it is.
“I was always better at dancing and conversation than I was with my tea lessons. It’s been eight years since I started learning to make tea, and I am still a disappointment to my teacher.”
Sehun is fascinated by the way Lu Han’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the way his long fingers curl around the teacup to steady it.
Lu Han continues in the same vein, and makes light conversation about the other skills he has picked up in his years at the teahouse. “Yixing, he’s a good friend here, he usually got the best marks at dancing. But I always beat him at maintaining conversation. There were too many things to learn, I wasn’t that great at calligraphy too but I guess I tended to excel only at the ones that really mattered.”
A pause, and then: “Pleasing men was also in my curriculum you know, and I always did score high for that.” Lu Han directs a look at Sehun and licks up a drop of escaped tea from the corner of his mouth. Sehun can feel the tips of his ears grow hot.
Surprisingly, Sehun finds he is enjoying himself. It is only when Lu Han stands in a natural break in the conversation and picks up the hat which Sehun had set aside that he realises his two hours with Lu Han are up. Lu Han ushers him towards the door. “It is a pity that time passes so quickly in your presence. I hope you enjoyed yourself, Master Oh. Thank you for giving me the pleasure of your company.”
As he moves to leave, Lu Han grabs him by the wrist. Sehun pauses, hand on the sliding door he had been about to open. Lu Han turns him around, fixes his tie and straightens his coat, before his hands smooth out his lapels and linger for a second too long that confuses Sehun.
Looking up at him under lowered lashes, Lu Han says, “Goodbye, I hope we may meet again,” pecking him quickly on the lips before he bows Sehun out.
Sehun has no recollection of how he got home that night.
::
Two weeks later finds Sehun standing outside the same wooden door he said he would never enter again. He blames his memories - the ones he has of that white shoulder, of the imprint of warmth he felt when Lu Han’s fingers had managed to easily circle his wrist, of the ghosting of warm lips across his own and Lu Han’s parted lips when he said goodbye.
It’s been exactly two weeks, and the number of hours where he doesn’t once think about Lu Han, Sehun probably can count on one hand. Lu Han occupies his thoughts when he is awake, and he sees Lu Han in his dreams, a beautiful fleeting wraith. He can’t put a finger to exactly what it is that draws him to Lu Han (yes, he is beautiful, but Sehun likes to think there has to be a less shallow reason than that), and that morning, he decided there’s not much he can do to solve the problem but to see Lu Han again.
“Master Oh. What a pleasant surprise!” but Lu Han looks far from surprised when Sehun is shown into the room by an attendant. He rises from where he was sitting on the floor practising calligraphy, and comes forward to help Sehun out of his coat and hat.
Lu Han thanks the attendant, then leads Sehun to the cushions on the raised platform once again. Clasping his hands together, he arranges himself beside Sehun and says, “I did say I hoped to see you again. I’m glad you did not disappoint me, Master Oh.”
Sehun has this distinct feeling he is being laughed at, but when he turns to look at Lu Han he’s facing straight ahead, his expression a picture of innocence. Then Lu Han turns towards him, and Sehun flushes, quickly looking down.
“I thought you said you were bad at calligraphy?” he says, by way of changing the topic, hoping Lu Han won’t ask him what brought him back, because he doesn’t know the answer to that question himself. “It looks pretty good to me.”
Laughing, Lu Han gets up and picks up his brush. “Well, I said I wasn’t that great, past tense being the key. I started spending more time on it since spring. I’m glad you think it looks good.”
He sits and starts to paint “Oh Sehun” in hanja4, pausing for a moment as he curls his brush around the first stroke into the character for “Hun”, looking up into Sehun’s eyes for confirmation, his own playful and questioning, and at that moment, Sehun knows this is probably not going to be his last visit.
Sehun watches in silence as Lu Han completes the character, then moves to draw a flower at the side that he recognises as the mugunghwa, a Rose of Sharon.
Adding one last dot with a flourish, Lu Han says, “To tell you the truth, besides characters, this flower is the only embellishment I know how to paint so far.”
He blows on the ink to dry it, before bringing the parchment to to Sehun, “I always found it interesting that the Mugunghwa Teahouse has lasted so long. I suppose you don’t name something after the eternity flower for nothing.
“Anyway, I didn’t think you would come back. What brings you here today?” The look on Lu Han’s face can only be described as mischievous and Sehun feels himself turning red for the second time in half an hour.
“I, um, just thought we could talk about calligraphy,” he lies. “It was one of the things I did better at and you mentioned you uh, um--” Sehun trails off, discomfited, because Lu Han has suddenly flung himself onto Sehun, straddling his lap, and Lu Han’s face is uncomfortably close. From his point of view, Lu Han’s collarbones are sharp and prominent, peeking out from the collar of his robe. The thought, I want to bite them, comes out of absolutely nowhere, and Sehun bites his lip instead to keep himself from saying anything, hands poised to push Lu Han off any moment.
“You, are extremely endearing. I hope I get to keep you”, he says, kissing Sehun on the nose before hopping off his lap and pulling him towards the table where more parchment and brushes lie.
“Come, show me what you know! I want to learn to paint bamboo, actually.”
Sehun supposes he is getting used to Lu Han when this sudden change of subject doesn’t even startle him anymore, and he dutifully moves to the table. There, he proceeds to spend an hour or so with Lu Han pressed up against his side, hand sometimes warm on his thigh, as they take turns painting.
When he finally gets up to leave, Lu Han holds him by his hand again, drawing circles into his palm. There is suddenly a look of vulnerability about him, an uncertainty and sincerity he feels he has never seen from Lu Han before. It makes him want to pull Lu Han close and reassure him about whatever he’s about to say.
“This slot, every Wednesday evening, I don’t have any regulars...” Lu Han’s words are hesitant as he turns those damned speaking and beautiful eyes up at him, and Sehun finds himself falling harder. “That is to say, you could make arrangements with Master Zhou if it suits you?”
A triumphant Lu Han ends up guiding Sehun to Master Zhou’s office, who carries out the necessary paperwork, appointment bookings and the matter of setting up a credit account.
::
His weekly visits evolve into something he looks forward to each week, and he likes to believe that Lu Han brightens up just that bit more when he sees him step into the lounge or his room. They spend hours drinking tea and chatting, and sometimes Lu Han dances for him. Once, Sehun had asked Lu Han to sing for him, but after a couple of lines, Lu Han had turned so pink with embarassment that Sehun had physically restrain himself from reaching out and smothering him with kisses by sitting on his hands. He meets a couple of the other boys from Mugunghwa, including Yixing, whom Lu Han mentions often when they talk.
The first few months, Lu Han would bring him to the couch, or the cushions, and settle himself next to Sehun as they talk. They start out with small things like favourite foods, things they like to do in their free time, colours that Lu Han likes to wear. Sehun only thinks to ask for Lu Han’s age on his third visit, then proceeds to fall off the couch when Lu Han calmly informs him that he is twenty-two.
“But, but that is, wait-- what, you are four years older than me? You’re lying!” Sehun’s eyes are wide and disbelieving.
Lu Han helps him back onto the couch, “Yes, you silly kid. Also thank you for letting me know that you are at least legal.”
One day, Lu Han leads him to the bed instead when he arrives, and Sehun resists when he realises what direction they are moving in. Lu Han pouts at him, “Come on, I just thought we’d be more comfortable lying down instead today. I won’t do anything, I promise.” He eyes Sehun and gives him a wicked smile, “Not much, at least.”
That day, he learns Lu Han is an orphan, or at least, considers himself one because he has no idea where his family is, or if they were even still alive. He has no siblings that he knows of, and the reason he lives in this teahouse, and has never discussed paying off his debt, is because it’s the only life he’s ever known.
Lu Han slips a hand under Sehun’s shirt and traces abstract patterns into the warm skin of his stomach. “Don’t get me wrong, I am far from unhappy in this place. But sometimes I wonder what it’s like to live outside the teahouse, doing whatever it is that I wanted to do.”
His voice is so wistful, all Sehun wants is to kiss all his pain away, so when Lu Han shifts to lean over Sehun’s chest, lips seeking his, instead of pushing him away like he usually does, Sehun lets him. As far as first kisses go, Sehun thinks he will remember this one forever. Lu Han is hesitant at first, as if he still expects Sehun to push him away belatedly. But when he makes no movement, Lu Han sighs into the kiss, soft lips brushing against Sehun’s, then slowly opening up as he leans further into the kiss. Sehun brings a hand up to rest on Lu Han’s hips and when he feels a tongue running along the seam of his lips, he welcomes Lu Han in, kisses him back, hoping Lu Han can feel the comfort he is trying to convey with his lips.
::
Shortly after that night, Sehun misses his visits for a couple of weeks. When he next walks into the lounge of Mugunghwa, Lu Han pointedly turns his back to him and continues speaking to YIxing just that bit louder. Yixing catches his eye and shrugs as if to say, “he’s a kid, hard to change that.”
He sneaks up on Lu Han and pulls him around for a peck on the lips, laughing when Lu Han pouts and asks, “Where have you been?” Yixing laughs too, but gets a jab in the side and a sharp look from Lu Han when he jokes about Lu Han playing favourites.
When they are arranged on Lu Han’s bed, with Lu Han settled between Sehun’s legs, back against his chest, their hands intertwined on Lu Han’s lap, Sehun tells him more about his father’s sugar business.
“I’m sorry I haven’t visited the last two weeks. My father suddenly decided I needed to make a trip to Busan to check on the sugar factories we have there.” He sighs. “Those are the ones he wants me to take over eventually, while my elder brother oversees the business here in Seoul.”
“Well, you’re moving upward and onward in life, Master Oh! It’s good your father is allowing you to take on more responsibility, isn’t it?” Lu Han squirms to get more comfortable. “You mentioned several weeks back that you wanted him to trust you more?”
“Yeah, but I’m honestly not looking forward to having to make these trips more often. I’m not even sure if this is what I want to do in life.”
Lu Han shifts so he can look up at Sehun’s face better. He stares at Sehun for a while, then presses kisses up his neck and buries his face against Sehun’s clavicle. “Very soon you will be too busy to come see me,” Lu Han whispers. “Promise me you won’t forget me?”
“Don’t be silly Lu Han, I lov--”, Sehun stops. “Of course I won’t forget you.”
They don’t talk very much that night, but instead sit in comfortable silence, sharing the same air, as Lu Han stays snug in Sehun’s embrace.
::
It is around the middle of autumn, cool and crisp, leaves turning golden, when Sehun comes back earlier than expected from one of his trips to Busan. He decides to drop by Mugunghwa without prior appointment to see if Lu Han is available.
He has just reached the door when he notices someone familiar crossing the threshold, obviously on his way out, with one of the attendants bowing him out the door. Sehun realises it’s Jongin, one of his best friends who had bought him that first night with Lu Han.
Jongin stops just short of running into Sehun and looks up, recognising who it is.
“Hey, if it isn’t the man himself, Oh Sehun! I was just asking Lu Han about you earlier and if he made sure you enjoyed yourself that time we bought you a night.” He grins and smacks Sehun on the chest. “You didn’t tell me you were making it a habit to come. Must be nice being able to afford such an expensive hobby.”
Sehun’s mind is whirring, and the implications of Jongin’s words are settling into his brain, like mist descending into a city. “Were you just with Lu Han?” he asks, slowly, words measured, arms stiff at his side.
Jongin stops smiling, and says carefully, “Yes, I visit him from time to time. I’ve known him for ages now, how do you think I got you an appointment in the first place?”
At that, Sehun punches Jongin. One moment he’s talking to Jongin, the next, Jongin is on the floor holding his jaw, and Sehun’s right hand is beginning to feel hot.
“What the hell, Sehun! What was that for?”
“Don’t ever touch Lu Han again,” Sehun’s face is white with anger as he stares down at Jongin.
And then Jongin’s expression changes, understanding dawning on his face; he hasn’t been friends with Sehun for fifteen years for nothing.
“Wait-- you love him. Or at least you think you’ve fallen in love with him.” Jongin stands and places a hand on Sehun’s shoulder. “Don’t be stupid, Sehun. You’re a fool to love a whore. You will never have him to yourself and you shouldn’t believe anything Lu Han tells you anyway, he’s paid to say the things you want to hear! He tells me he loves me all the time!”
This just makes Sehun more furious because it’s been months, and not once has he ever heard Lu Han say anything like that to him. He shoves Jongin away hard and lashes out, “Don’t you dare call him a whore!”
Sehun dimly registers that the altercation has brought the guard at the door out to see what is happening, but anger is clouding his mind and everything else but Jongin’s words are a haze to him.
“What about that Park family girl, the one your father just settled the arranged marriage with? You’ve been having a good time showing her the sights of Busan right? C’mon, Sehun, you were supposed to just have a bit of fun before you went and contracted yourself out like that, it’s why we bought it for you in the first place. You weren’t supposed to go and fall in love!”
At that moment, Sehun hears a familliar voice that makes his heart drop and he turns to find Lu Han standing at the door, eyebrows drawn together, his eyes huge and black, sucking in the moonlight that’s shining on them.
“Master Kim, Master Oh, what is going on?” Lu Han asks, and Sehun wants to run forward, wants to take him by the shoulders and ask Lu Han how much he’s heard.
Lu Han’s posture is stiff and unforgiving however, and he continues, “I’m afraid I will have to ask you to take this somewhere else, before you disturb our other patrons.”
Jongin dusts himself off and tugs on Sehun’s arm. “Let’s go, Sehun. Let’s talk about this somewhere else.”
Sehun lets himself get pulled away but his gaze never leaves Lu Han, who stands there like a small statue in a puddle of moonlight, until they turn around a corner out of sight.
::
When the time finally comes around for Sehun’s weekly appointment, he almost flies up the stairs the moment he is let over Mugunghwa’s threshold, pausing to catch his breath only when he opens the door to Lu Han’s room and sees him sitting there, mixing tea. He steps in and closes the door, leaning his back against it and sliding down as he dashes the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that has gathered. He doesn’t know why, but he had been afraid Lu Han would be gone.
Lu Han looks up and murmurs a greeting, but doesn’t move from his position.
“Look, look, I don’t know how much you heard, but I can explain it all--” Sehun starts desperately, fumbling at the right words to say. “What I mean to say is, I mean I know it’s your job but--” He doesn’t get very far when Lu Han comes forward to kneel in front of him, puts a finger to his lips.
“Shhh,” Lu Han tells him, “it’s alright. Let me just--” and then Lu Han’s hands are moving to his collar, loosening the knot of his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons. There is a desperation about the way Lu Han draws him close, pulls him up and leads him to the bed, saying, “Please, please let me, tonight...”
Sehun knows all the things he’s told himself about resisting Lu Han are culminating right in this moment, but he can’t bring himself to stop Lu Han when he can feel the desperation on his fingertips, in his every breath, on his lips now mouthing at the corner of Sehun’s own. It’s the sudden thought, that soon I will be like the rest of Lu Han’s clients who pay him to own his body, that makes him grab Lu Han’s hands and tilt his chin up to look into his eyes.
All Sehun sees in them are desire, desire that he’s caught glimpses of in the past few months, hidden under a playful, flippant mask. Lu Han is breathless now, “Sehun, please. I want this. I know you want it too, I can see it in the way your eyes follow my every movement, so why do you always pretend like you don’t? I want you, please.”
So Sehun lets him, and then it’s like someone starts the clock again; time is no longer suspended as Lu Han guides him to the bed, his actions have lost that desperate edge, and it feels like they are learning about each other all over again. Lu Han’s lips slide against his own, while his hands are busy, untucking Sehun’s shirt from his pants, running flat palms under the hem of his shirt over and over Sehun’s chest, grasping, touching, learning. Sehun feels the back of his knees hit the bed, and he sits, pulling Lu Han onto his lap. There is no break, no pause, just them and the moment; Sehun leans up to slip his tongue into Lu Han’s mouth. His hands are heavy on Lu Han’s hips for a second, then move up to tug on the ends of his sash.
“Race you,” Lu Han suddenly says. “Let’s see who can get the other out of their clothes first.” And then he’s laughing and ripping at the rest of Sehun’s buttons, shoving the shirt off his shoulders before attacking Sehun’s belt. Sehun thinks this is a piece of cake. Lu Han’s robe has no stupid clasps or buttons, surely a couple of tugs later and he would be the winner.
He underestimates Lu Han. Sehun’s only managed to pull off the outer layer when Lu Han’s already got him stark naked, but honestly, Sehun is too distracted to care who wins because then Lu Han is wrapping a soft, small hand around his cock and stroking him to full hardness. But Lu Han suddenly pushes himself off Sehun and rolls onto the bed, completely removing himself from Sehun’s touch. “Winner gets to stop when he wants to!”
“You are such a tease, I don’t know why I love you.”
The words are out of Sehun’s mouth before he can stop them, but there’s nothing that can be done. Lu Han’s smile dims, but he doesn’t say anything, so Sehun takes the chance to grab Lu Han and climb over him, straddling his waist. He can’t take his eyes off Lu Han as he pulls open the two sides of Lu Han’s inner robe to bare his chest, or stop his breath from hitching when he finally does. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers against Lu Han’s lips, and Lu Han turns his face away smiling.
Sehun leans down to pepper kisses along Lu Han’s breastbone, and Lu Han is making little noises of agreement that Sehun files away in his store of memories, the one that keeps him going until the next time he sees Lu Han again, when Sehun realises he’s not quite sure what happens next, and goes still.
Lu Han props himself up on one elbow to peer down at Sehun, his voice husky with want. “What’s the problem, why are you stopping?”
“Uh, I don’t really know what comes next?” Then Sehun is blushing so furiously he wonders if he could get any more unsexy at a moment like this. But Lu Han is laughing and pulling Sehun down onto the bed instead, clambering over him to sit on his chest.
The grin he throws Sehun can only be described as wicked as he says, “You should let the one who knows what he’s doing top next time. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you and you will know what to do.”
Then Lu Han is slicking up his fingers with lube he magicks out of nowhere and Sehun’s eyes grow wide because is he going to-- but Lu Han braces his feet against the bed on either side of Sehun and lifts his hips up and then he is sliding a finger into himself and Sehun has to remember to breathe. Lu Han’s eyes are closed as he sinks one finger in and out for what seems like an eternity, then adds a second, fucking himself open, and Sehun cannot stop staring at the way Lu Han’s skin stretches around his fingers. He reaches out to trace the ring of muscle that Lu Han is continuing to thrust his fingers into and Lu Han lets out a sob.
Pulling his fingers out, Lu Han grabs the lube and drizzles some on Sehun’s hand and babbles c’mon, you instead, want you and Sehun is slipping two fingers in, marveling at the tight, warm heat and the effect he is having on Lu Han. Lu Han has slumped forward, forehead resting on Sehun’s shoulder, and he can feel Lu Han breathing heavily into his chest, falling apart as Sehun slips his fingers in as far as they will go and hooks the tips. “More,” Lu Han says, “add another one please.” So Sehun adds a third finger and the mewling sounds that Lu Han makes when he does has Sehun feeling like he could continue to do this forever, even though he’s so hard that it’s actually starting to hurt.
But Lu Han is suddenly batting his hand away and gasping, “stop, stop, enough” and Sehun freezes because he’s not sure what he’s done wrong now. Lu Han sits up and giggles when he sees the look on Sehun’s face. “Stop furrowing your brow. Nothing’s wrong, I just want to do this--”
And then Sehun is the one who’s gasping now, as Lu Han raises himself up, then guides Sehun’s cock in as Lu Han sinks slowly down onto him, inch by inch. “Oh fuck,” Sehun bites out, “I didn’t think you’d, Lu Han, bloody hell” and his coherence is shot to pieces as Lu Han lifts himself up again, and then slides back down onto Sehun’s cock, over and over. Sehun begins to thrust his hips up to meet Lu Han, and Lu Han says, “told you you’d know what to do”, before bracing his hands on Sehun’s chest, throwing his head backwards in pleasure at a particularly strong thrust.
Sehun pushes himself up into a sitting position and his fingers are pressing tight into Lu Han’s hips as he pulls down at the same time he thrusts up, creating an inelegant rhythm that causes Lu Han to cry out, his eyes screwed shut. Sehun reaches between their bodies to pull at Lu Han’s cock, matching the pace he’s moving at within Lu Han, and he groans at the way Lu Han clenches tight around him in response. “Lu Han, Lu Han, you are so perfect,” Sehun repeats like a mantra as he kisses Lu Han’s eyelids, his nose, his lips.
They move together, push and pull, give and take, for a long while then Lu Han is arching against him and spilling over Sehun’s fingers, burying the cry he makes in Sehun’s shoulder as he comes. Sehun thrusts up a few more times, shallow and quick, and he can feel Lu Han clenching around him again before he’s coming too.
As they lie together, sated and languid, Lu Han whispers into his ear, his voice is hushed and brittle, “My mother left me at Mugunghwa when I was seven. I never knew my father, I pretend like I don’t care but I wish I had a family. I love sweet things more than savoury, I like to play with cherry blossoms in the spring and catch snowflakes in the winter. One day, I hope to live together with someone who loves me for who I am and won’t judge me for what I have become.”
Sehun shushes him, “shhh, you will have that, you have me,” and he finds that Lu Han is crying and so kisses those tears away.
When Lu Han’s tears come to a stop, he rolls off Sehun, reaching across him to take a wet cloth from the bedside table and wipes Sehun down, then himself.
“Stop staring at me, Sehun.”
“But I like your face.”
Lu Han blushes, but continues cleaning up as best as he can, and then crawls back under Sehun’s arm, pulling the covers over themselves, pushing his face into Sehun’s neck and that is how Sehun falls asleep.
::
Some time later, Sehun shifts awake and checks the clock on the wall. It’s been about an hour since they fell asleep, and he probably needs to go soon. As it is, he’s already overstayed his usual appointment but the sweet warmth of Lu Han at his side makes him want to linger a little bit longer. Turning, he finds that Lu Han is taking his turn to stare at him, but the soft vulnerable look in his eyes is gone, and in its place is something steely that Sehun thinks he should probably feel worried about.
He pulls Lu Han closer to him, and in his sleep-fuddled state, says, “I love you, Lu Han. Let’s run away together.”
Sehun feels the rejection before he hears it. Lu Han stiffening in his arms, the sharp intake of breath, the tensing of Lu Han’s palms against his chest.
Before he realises it, Lu Han has rolled out of his arms and is quickly donning his robe. “I thank you for your time, Master Oh. I’m glad you enjoyed my company so much we exceeded the time, but I’m sure Master Zhou will settle the bill accordingly.”
Sehun is confused. Pulling the covers toward himself, he reaches out to Lu Han who flinches away from his touch. “I don’t understand, what--”
Whirling around, Lu Han turns and suddenly he seems tall, self-assured, looking down from where he stands at Sehun.
“You are so naive, Oh Sehun. Why do you believe the words of a whore? Did you believe everything I told you about my mother and wanting a family? Grow up, boy. You are living in a dream world where everything is handed to you on a silver platter. Not everyone else is so lucky.
“You love me? You love me? Do you know what love is, Master Oh? The second you tell anyone else about me, they will laugh at you or drive you out of your home if they thought to believe you. What do you know of love, when you come and let me warm you at night, and then the next day you head back to being respectable Second Master Oh of Oh Sugar Refiners, to take tea at the hotel with your equally respectable fiancée?
Lu Han’s words are bitter and cold, they bite Sehun like January frost, and he is too stunned to respond as Lu Han continues.
“I put on a show to please men, to keep them coming back. I say what you want to hear, act the part you want me to play. The money that comes in is always handy, you see. The world is a cruel place I’m afraid, so I have to rely on the things I know.
“I don’t want to carry this on with you any longer, I’m sorry. Especially not if there is an innocent woman you are hurting involved. Please go. Settle your bill with Master Zhou and don’t come back. If you must come, you will no longer be allowed to request for me - I have at least that much freedom.”
Leaning down, Lu Han places a palm against Sehun’s jaw, and for a second, Sehun sees a flash of sadness in those eyes. “Take tonight as a parting gift,” Lu Han moves close and kisses Sehun hard, biting his bottom lip, tongue sweeping along the roof of Sehun’s mouth before he turns to go.
As he leaves, Sehun calls out, “I never thought of you as a whore, Lu Han, you were a fulfiller of my dreams.”
Lu Han barely pauses at that and continues out of the room.
:: But he who kisses the joy as it flies ::
All the things Lu Han has told himself about never desiring, never loving have shattered around him as he leaves the room. He had known, maybe from the second visit, when Sehun had taught him to paint bamboo, and Sehun’s laughing eyes had disappeared into two half-moons, that he had to stop himself before he was in too deep.
But the mind is a powerful thing, and he had willed himself to ignore it as Sehun kept coming back, and he was sweet, and endearing, and he listened, and Lu Han’s mistakes probably began with letting himself feel attraction even at that first meeting.
After the night Sehun met Master Kim outside Mugunghwa, Master Zhou had called him to his office and spoken to him about letting patrons get too attached.
That was the first time Lu Han had shown any kind of emotion in front of Master Zhou. “Please,” he had begged, quickly getting to his knees, “I’ll tone it down. Please let me continue to serve Master Oh.”
But Master Zhou had been firm. Looking at Lu Han with understanding, he had said, “I know the consequences of falling in love when you work in this teahouse, Lu Han, and this is the kindest way for it to end.”
“I never thought of you as a whore, Lu Han, you were a fulfiller of my dreams.” Lu Han’s steps almost falter at Sehun’s words, but he forces himself to walk on, to pretend like there are no tears streaming down his face.
::
Sehun tries to see Lu Han a few more times, but by the third time he insists he will only see Lu Han and no one else, Master Zhou warns him that difficult customers are barred from entering the premises ever again. Yixing tells Lu Han that Sehun doesn’t visit again after that.
Several months later, as winter is ending and the last of the frost on the leaves is melting, Lu Han is delivered a note card with pressed mugunghwa petals. It read, “I’m moving to Busan tomorrow. I won’t forget for an eternity.”
Lu Han fingers the card idly, turning it this way and that, to see light bounce off the pale petals. I wonder if you live all day in memories of me, Sehun, he thinks. Because everyday, all Lu Han does is try to forget. In his chores, when he chats with Yixing, when he lets another man press into him at night, he does it so that he can try to forget. He knows now, that he should have worked harder to deny himself because this empty ache inside him is more painful than anything, and the ache would never have to fester like this if he had stopped himself.
::
It’s three years later, and Lu Han is sitting in the front room of the shop he shares with Yixing, painting a commissioned calligraphy piece. Yixing is at the back, teaching a small class of children traditional dance. It has only been about six months since he had finally completed paying off his indenture to Master Zhou and it surprises even him, how easy it’s been adapting to this new life.
The bell on their shop door chimes and Lu Han looks up, smiling.
His call of “Welcome!” dies quickly on his lips, because it’s Oh Sehun, and he looks the same, only a little bit more tired, but still tall and pale and beautiful. Sehun hasn’t looked up yet. Instead, he is helping a beautiful woman pull a baby stroller into the shop, in which a happy toddler gurgles. The lady is saying, “I thought we might get some calligraphy for your father’s birthday this time around,” as she hangs on to Sehun’s arm.
Lu Han is gripping his desk so tightly, his knuckles are white and he has crushed the parchment he was working on beyond repair. He contemplates dashing out the back door and sending Yixing to deal with them, but it’s too late. Sehun has seen him and he’s stepping forward and Lu Han’s dismay must be showing on his face because Sehun stops and puts out a hand, like he’s reassuring a wounded deer, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.
He turns to the woman and says, “Sister-in-law, why don’t you wait for me outside with Hyelim? I’ll just settle this and be right out.”
Once the woman is out the door, Sehun says conversationally, “My father still doesn’t forgive me for turning down that arranged marriage, you know. Or every single one of the others he’s tried to push upon me for that matter.
“Did you ever think of me Lu Han? Do you know that I spend every waking hour with you in my thoughts, and every sleeping one dreaming of you?
Lu Han still doesn’t say anything, so Sehun continues. “I’ve just moved back to Seoul. I promise you, waiting for three years means I can wait for another three for you until you’re ready. So let’s try this again.”
Sehun steps close to Lu Han and proffers his hand, “Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Oh Sehun, would you do me the honour of having dinner with me?”
And Lu Han thinks, maybe, maybe it’s okay to finally desire things for himself after all.
:: Lives in eternity's sun rise. ::
fin.
A/N: Written for bluedveins as part of runandgun. Prompts given were "I wonder if you live all day in memories of me." and/or "accismus: feigning disinterest in something while actually desiring it". Almost everything good in this fic is from my beta because she held my hand.
additional notes:
1 This AU is set around the 1930s, I’m very sorry for any possible historical inaccuracies.
2 The Mugunghwa/무궁화/無窮花 is Korea’s national flower, and the flower’s symbolic significance stems from the Korean word mugung, which means “eternity”.
3 The gayageum is a traditional Korean stringed instrument, you can read more about it on wiki.
4 Hanja is the Korean name for Chinese characters and was the previous traditional form of writing. You can read more about it on wiki.
5 Fun fact: K-Y Jelly was introduced in January 1904. Please give international trade a bit of leeway.
6 The poem used to separate each change of perspective is “Eternity” by William Blake. Original, I know.