Insomnia, for donawhalee
Title: Insomnia
For: donawhalee
Pairing: Lu Han-centric, Lu Han/Lay, mention Kris/Lay, Jongin/Kyungsoo, Jongin/Lu Han, Sehun/Lu Han, Minseok/Lu Han.
Rating: R
Length: 6k
Summary, potential warnings: AU - Lu Han goes through his days thinking Yixing is made for him. In reality, his moments are just part of a dream. (mention of sexual situations, dream scapes and depression episodes)
----
His mind just won't shut up. One moment he is thinking about sales targets this month, the new market research campaign for the following month, and the next moment he is counting the blackened spots in the ceiling, wondering how they got there and listing off potential cleaning products to erase those marks.
He tosses his blankets off, wearing only a flimsy green tank top and boxers in bed. Despite the AC going full blast his body feels unbearably hot. Palming himself through his shorts doesn't help relieve the heat and instead he remains unsatisfied and painfully aware of the growing embarrassment raking through his body. He curls up to the colder side of the bed and squeezes his eyes closed.
Please sleep. Please go back to sleep. His thoughts start to wander after his nth attempt to repeat those words.
What is the success rate of using the same mantra all over again?
Should he take up meditation to calm his mind?
Was he ill?
He doesn't know where to identify the problem. His mind is too loud. He turns to the other side of the bed, shifting closer to the wall and bumps his knees against the surface. After much tossing and turning, he feels like a weight has settled upon his head, weighing down his mind.
*
"Sshhhh. He's finally asleep."
"What did you do?"
"I just slipped some pills into his drink."
"Are you trying to kill him? Lu Han is allergic to a lot of medicine, including sleeping pills."
"Aw, damn. Then we should've gone with my plan, knocking him out cold. What should we do?"
"To the hospital of course! Get the car!"
*
Lu Han dreams of falling. He dreams of soaring. His stomach lurches in protest when he eventually dives into the air.
*
Wednesdays are days when Lu Han wakes up tangled in pink sheets, a standing fan blowing coarse wind into his face and the smell of week old laundry shoved in the basket underneath the bed. The AC had broken two days ago, leaving stale air lingering in the room, tickling Lu Han's nose in the one moment it decides to be sensitive. Pushing himself off the bed, he finally starts his morning ritual.
Lu Han checks the kitchen and right in the middle of the dinner table there's a pink Hello Kitty lunch box with a sticky note saying 'pick me' in his roommate's handwriting. He pops open the lid to see what his roommate has prepared for today and feels his mouth water at the sight of the neatly organized lunch with star-shaped carrots, octopus sausages, heart-shaped cucumbers and a grilled ham-cheese sandwich in the middle, with some leftover noodles from last night.
He promptly texts his roommate, filling the space with blinking hearts and kisses. He receives a reply right when he is ready to put his bag together, stuffing folders, pens and journal into one side and slipping a medium-sized notebook into the bigger compartment.
"Ew," Lu Han reads. "Who gave you the right to slobber me with cute emoticons?"
Wednesdays is when he and Yixing are still roommates, living in close quarters and sharing cooking duties - though he usually leaves the cooking to Yixing.
"Lazy," Yixing had called him, but he agreed to be the resident cook if Lu Han stops trying to make the microwave work differently than it was created for.
Lu Han is out of the apartment in fifteen minutes and jogs to the nearest bus station.
After a gruesome work day slaving behind numbers and reports, Lu Han trudges home with sagging shoulders. The earlier enthusiasm to meet his day head-on is no longer traceable in his demeanor. When he enters the apartment, the kitchen smells of home-made dumplings and roasted duck. Yixing peaks his head from the kitchen.
"Welcome back! You're just in time to taste my first ever dip sauce for the roasted duck." Yixing stops stirring in the small bowl and offers Lu Han a spoon to taste.
"It's good," Lu Han hums.
"Is it too salty?" Yixing worries his lower lip with his teeth.
Lu Han licks the spoon again and presses his lips to Yixing's own, transferring the taste along the tip of Yixing's tongue.
"How's that?"
Yixing smiles, his face looking deceptively lost. "I don't know. Let me try again." Lu Han sees the slight twitches in Yixing's smile and complies for another round of taste sharing.
Wednesdays are also days when Lu Han and Yixing are happily living together.
*
Mondays are about games. He is the memberof the school's regular soccer team. He is up at five, jogging the whole way to morning practice with a jam sandwich hanging out of his mouth and hoisting his sports bag on one shoulder. Those days he is focused on the bigger picture, sets higher goals and thinks of the one-time Manchester United signed shirt smelling moldy and stuffy in the back of his locker. Getting into the nationals is all he ever wants.
'Fighting' is a daily text message he gets during practice. He doesn't recognize the number. But he suspects it's probably from one of his many fans.
One of the members of the official soccer club, Minseok, gives him a concerned look. "Maybe you should change your number."
"It doesn't bother me." Lu Han shrugs as he puts his stuff into his locker.
"What if it's a stalker?"
"Why would anyone want to stalk a nobody of this team?"
Minseok sighs, bopping him lightly against the shoulder with his fist. "You're not a nobody, Lu Han. At least you're more popular than I am."
On Mondays, Lu Han spots Yixing with a camera hanging from his neck sitting next to the water bench. Yixing beckons Lu Han to come closer during practice. Lu Han refuses to acknowledge the signal at first, turning his attention to the other way. After another half hour of practice, Lu Han spots Yixing still sitting at the bench, occasionally raising the camera up to take random pictures of everyone in the field. But most of the time, Lu Han feels the lens is on him, following his every move, his every turn.
"Hey," Lu Han says awkwardly as he approaches Yixing. He has a towel over his neck.
"Lu Han!" Yixing beams at him, sparkly-eyed and standing to offer a handshake. "I'm doing an assignment for the newspaper club about the exceptional members of the school soccer team and I'm in charge of your edition."
"Why?" Lu Han blurts out. "I'm not interesting enough. I'm not even part of the regular line up."
"It doesn't matter." Yixing clutches his camera. "From what I've seen today, you're more than just a substitute player in the field. You have the ability to go beyond that."
"Do you even know what you're talking about?" Lu Han narrows his eyes and rests his hands on his hips.
"I just had a crash course about soccer last night, so I think I'm good to go." Yixing flashes him another smile, giving him a thumbs up. The way Yixing handles his interview, Lu Han is more than skeptical of Yixing's credibility being part of the newspaper club. Or his supposed knowledge about the game at hand. Yet for some reason, despite his growing irritation towards
Yixing's ignorance to the game Lu Han's blood has craved for since he entered high school, Lu
Han ends up asking Yixing out for coffee.
Not a date, he has emphasized. Just a meeting of two people to discuss further details about his beloved sport, of course. To punch in facts and the rules of the game into Yixing's head, he tries to convince himself.
Mondays are spent going out with Yixing, trying to convince him to study the sport more seriously.
*
Tuesdays are reserved for his girlfriend. He walks her to school, sometimes brings her along on his bicycle, her thin arms wound around his waist like a brace. His path down the road is straight, with no bumps, no holes, no ups and downs-as a petal rain showers over their heads at every turn.
"We're married every day," his girlfriend laughs. Lu Han laughs with her and thinks, this is all going to pass. He leaves her at her class and then wanders to his own class, bumping shoulders with his seatmate as a way of greeting.
His path is already decided. After high school, he will go abroad and finish his schooling in a foreign boarding school. Once he is graduated, he will come back, look for his girlfriend and ask her to marry him. When he turns thirty he might be running his family's business as head executive and he might just be a father of a six-year-old child.
His girlfriend hadn't waited for his return, though, despite her promise. She is engaged to some guy her parents had chosen. Lu Han's parents, in turn, have already lined up folders of potential girlfriends for Lu Han to pick out.
"We should elope," he says rather casually when he seeks her out.
She is crying and refuses. "What a cowardly way to face the music!"
After his remark, he never sees her again.
On Tuesdays, Lu Han remembers Yixing as the girl who got away.
*
Thursdays, Fridays and weekends are roughly the same with slight differences in the company he shares. Thursdays are Sehun's sessions on infinite and limit values of advanced calculus over bubble tea and then they go out, gossiping about noted strategies of last week's games.
Fridays are for Jongin, in front of the television as they battle it out cheering for opposing soccer teams. He is at Minseok's place in the weekends, planning to drag him out onto the field for a friendly rivalry soccer game.
*
It must be Friday. His calendar is scribbled with red notes and reminders.
Must go to Jongin. New game is on. Bring snacks! Bring drinks!
Lu Han checks the clock. Almost two in the afternoon. The game is going to begin soon. Lu Han jogs the whole way to Jongin's apartment, stopping only for a moment to buy snacks and a tray of beer. A quick fifteen minute walk later, he is at Jongin's door, kicking against the door as a form of knocking since his hands are full holding bags of food.
Lu Han is surprised when a short, slender boy dressed in too large black pajamas answers the door instead of Jongin. Thick tufts of hair are sticking wildly to one side, as if he has been in the process of combing the hair to resemble something not like a bird's nest. Round eyes are taking in Lu Han's appearance without a word. Lu Han shuffles self consciously under the surprisingly steely gaze.
"Uhm. Sorry. I got the wrong apartment." Lu Han stammers, hugging the grocery bag filled with snacks close to his stomach. He is about to back away, glances anxiously at the number on the door. Maybe he has picked the wrong number. He squints at it and stands his ground.
But this is Jongin's apartment.
"Lu Han, is it?"
"Yes." Lu Han scrutinizes the stranger now. He doesn't remember giving away his name to strangers like this one. "Who are you?"
"Do Kyungsoo." The boy doesn't offer a hand. "It seems like you've missed the memo."
"What memo?" Lu Han cocks his head.
"That today there won't be any game watching. Didn't you receive a text message?"
"What are you saying? We always watch games together on Fridays."
"Well, not today."
"Where is Jongin?" Lu Han narrows his eyes at Kyungsoo.
"Still sleeping."
"Sleeping? This late? Wait, why are you in his apartment? His roommate left last month." Upon closer inspection, Lu Han finally recognizes the black pajamas belonging to Jongin. And when Lu Han angles his head a little to the right, he could spot a large angry red spot peeking from underneath the collar. Lu Han stares at Kyungsoo, who stares right back at him.
"Oh my God," Lu Han says, the realization slowly dawning on him.
"Indeed." Kyungsoo mutters.
"How long has it been going between you two?"
"None of your business." Kyungsoo slants an eye to him. Lu Han doesn't know whether to laugh or step away from this boy. Why was he hostile towards him?
"All right. All right. I get the message." Lu Han puts on his best smile. "You want Jongin all to yourself today."
"Yes." Kyungsoo answer is too immediate.
"Okay, I'm going." Lu Han squashes the disappointed feeling of missing the soccer game and turns on his heel, ready to go back home. "Congratulations," he manages to throw over his shoulder. He rounds the corner, seeing just a slight motion of Kyungsoo closing the door. Lu Han bites back a laugh before going back to his apartment to spend the night alone.
*
This is a memory.
Lu Han remembers the one time Jongin's team had beaten Lu Han's own. Jongin had whooped in joy and crowed out a random victory song, while dancing some strange popping and locking machine move. Jongin couldn't contain his excitement and simply swooped down and tackled Lu
Han on the couch, planting a big fat kiss on his mouth.
Lu Han had struggled against the kiss at first, surprised and disgusted, because Jongin was just a regular guy Lu Han went to whenever there is a game between their favorite soccer teams. A fuzzy flash of memory reminded Lu Han that he and Jongin had once rutted against each other on the couch in Jongin's living room.
Lu Han has almost forgotten they had done something like that after a game. They had promised not to talk about that night and Lu Han promptly pushed the memory to the very back of his mind. They still remained friends, watching games together on Fridays and squabbling about their own team's tactics and play in the field.
He thought perhaps Jongin had also forgotten about it. Lu Han was wrong though.
That night, as he plays video games with himself, consoling himself of missing the game of the century, Jongin has asked to meet downstairs.
"I think... I think I loved you, you know," Jongin confesses. Any thought processes running through Lu Han's mind screeches to a halt and he loosens his jaw.
"How long?" Lu Han manages to work his mouth.
Jongin shrugs. "Maybe since last year? Since we slept together for the first time."
Last year. Lu Han recalls the time and his face flushes immediately.
"That long? What about Kyungsoo?" He scrambles to say.
"I love him."
"Oh." Lu Han deflates, trying to calm his heart. "Why are you saying this now?"
"Because-" Jongin stops. "Because I need to do it for myself. I need to let you go. I was so frustrated. You were right there and you never even noticed me."
Lu Han stays silent for a while. An awkwardness that never existed before settles between them. "How did you and Kyungsoo meet?" He decides to break the ice, hoping the new topic might help their friendship.
A small smile appears on Jongin's face. "Long story."
"Give me a rundown then?"
"Maybe some other time." Jongin looks guilty, hunching his shoulders as he hooks his thumbs into his jeans pockets. "I need to go back. Kyungsoo might worry."
"Hey, Jongin, congratulations." Lu Han calls out to him. Jongin nods in response and raises a hand to wave good bye.
Friday, that day, is the day Lu Han gets trapped in the elevator of his apartment building on the way back. There's another person trapped along with him.
That's where he meets Yixing, the neighbor on the eighth floor, who works as a piano instructor.
Time is slow when they are stuck in the dark with nothing else to do but sit and wait for rescue.
"What if no one comes?" Yixing wonders.
"They will. This is the only elevator in use." Lu Han doesn't voice that he had wondered about that as well. It's past eleven already, most of the other occupants of the apartment are probably in bed, watching TV.
"What if we run out of oxygen before they break through the door?" Yixing continues.
"We won't. We just need to breathe slowly." Lu Han tries to sound reassuring. He could hear the panic in Yixing's voice. The other man is trying to suppress his fear but he is probably on the brink of hysteria.
"What if we go crazy from all this waiting?" If Lu Han hadn't known Yixing was working as a simple piano instructor, he would have assumed Yixing was a horror writer, specializing in doomed endings.
"We won't." Lu Han pauses thoughtfully, "At least I won't. I'm not sure about your sanity though."
"I don't want to die just yet." Yixing is now at the verge of hysteria. Lu Han is sure of it.
"Don't think too much about it."
"I'm Yixing, by the way. Before I die, I'd like you to know that your voice is really warm."
"I--." Lu Han sputters.
"Can I kiss you?"
"What?"
"I don't want to die without kissing someone."
"What?" Whatwhatwhatwhat? Lu Han feels small hands holding his face and then someone is climbing to sit on his lap. Yixing is kissing him.
Although Fridays are for Jongin, somewhere along the day, Lu Han starts an elevator relationship with Yixing from the eighth floor.
*
Today, it's Thursday.
No matter how many times Lu Han explains the functions of the math problems, Sehun seems to get it right the first time. And yet, when exams come in, Sehun fails to execute the proper function or skips several steps ahead, coming to the wrong conclusion.
Lu Han knows Sehun is a bright kid. If he puts his mind into it, he will succeed.
This is another memory.
Lu Han had dozed off holding a book on his lap, head tipped back on the couch. He had left
Sehun to solve a sheet of problems and thought about catching up with his own studies.
Halfway through the second paragraph Lu Han's eyes drooped heavily and he was out. He only woke at the feeling of a curling unexpected heat in the pit of his stomach.
His eyes were fuzzy and filled with sleep as they opened. He spotted Sehun's head hovering above Lu Han's lap. With a jolt the realization came that he felt warm air brushing his lower stomach. And then he realized it was a hot tongue dragging along the length of his cock.
"What are you doing?" he had slurred.
"Making you comfortable," Sehun had answered cheekily and long, thin fingers dug into Lu Han's hips.
"I don't want to be comfortable."
"Just be patient."
Lu Han wanted to blame it on his exhausted state for not fighting back. He wanted to blame it on himself, still being deep asleep. He wanted to blame it on his forever-single status and the lack of sex in his life.
Their relationship wouldn't last though, Lu han was sure. Sehun had a flighty personality. And he was very young and idealistic.
Lu Han remembered the hurt look crossing Sehun's eyes when he rejected him immediately. The blow job was fine. But expecting a relationship from Lu Han was out of the question.
Lu Han cut off their ties altogether. It was for the best. He asked for another student to work with because the money was good and he needed extra credits.
His next student is an even worse one. Yixing has an attention span of a fly. One moment he is concentrating on the test and the next thing Lu Han sees is the concentration gradually disappearing from Yixing's face and Yixing is off to dreamland, staring into space. He ends up tugging frustratingly at his hair and tries to call upon Yixing's attention to the task at hand.
Thursday, now, consists of getting Yixing to raise his grades to passable marks. And when Yixing does pass his tests with flying colors, he demands a reward.
"This isn't funny, Yixing." Lu Han tugs at the bedpost where his arms are fastened. Yixing hums a random song as he pulls out a feather from his so-called play kit and shoves Lu Han's shirt up to his neck.
"I won't hurt you one bit." Yixing tips the feather onto Lu Han's skin, trailing lightly against his ribs. Lu Han shudders and squirms, all the while convulsing into uncontrollable laughter.
*
Weekends are focused on Minseok. There is a soccer game. There is a noodle stand. Some laughing.
It's all Lu Han can remember being with Minseok. The blank slate in his mind makes him frown upon this whole setting. He forces his mind eye to look further, to look deeper into whatever went wrong during the weekends, why he is having trouble remembering them. Yixing's face morphs into Minseok's own.
Then it's Yixing bumping shoulders with him on the field. If Lu Han turns away, there is Minseok running after the ball. One blink of his eye, it's Yixing after the ball, attempting a hattrick on his own.
*
Despite breaking out his whole week into blocks of likely things to expect, the only constant that connects all his days is one person, Zhang Yixing. He is in all of Lu Han's days, close by or just within reach. Right there to kick him off the bed, right there to judge his every dumb move in the playing field, right there to tease him about his girlfriend. Following him like a shadow, but with extra blinding lights attached to his very being that makes it hard for Lu Han to ignore him or to look away.
"That's because," Yixing says, small hands reaching forward to cup Lu Han's face, "I am real and everyone else is a figment of your imagination."
He is staring at Yixing now. Tracing the slope of Yixing's nose, the slant of Yixing's eyes, the smooth arch of his eyebrows, the sparkle in Yixing's dark eyes, the soft contours of his cheekbones.
His hands are resting on Yixing's arms, feeling the slight bulk of soon-to-be-developed muscles underneath the fabric, and his fingers tighten.
"Kiss me," he murmurs, lowering his eyes to focus on Yixing's plump lips.
A pink tongue darts out as Yixing licks his lips. "Okay." He finishes quietly and leans forward.
*
There is a hand on his back, slowly rubbing up and down, soothing, shushing. His head does an unexpected twist and empties itself through flashes of sepia-colored movie scenes until all his thoughts are eventually silenced. He is staring at the carpet, at the span of space between his folded hands on his lap and the tufts of red peeking from underneath his socks.
Someone is speaking to him, very loudly, trying to break the silence. He tries to follow the sound, but the effort is lost as Lu Han can't connect the words to the sound coming from between the moving lips. Those lips keep moving though, forming syllables without meaning and then they stop. White, straight front teeth peek from underneath lips as the owner bites down on the lower lip.
A pair of hands come up from either side of his face and covers his eyes, darkening his sight.
Lu Han tenses in his seat and raises his hands to touch the wrists hovering in front of his face.
Off, he thinks.
When he manages to push the offending hands away, Lu Han is somehow lying on his back, staring at a blank ceiling. Slow instrumental music is playing in the background. The piano is particularly prominent in the melody, darting fast and high over the bass. There is a smoky smell of an electric lamp burning too long when he takes a deep breath. A fan is humming nearby as it blows dry air around the room.
"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," someone teases nearby.
Lu Han frowns. Not a beauty, he wants to retort, his eyes going to the person who spoke. Sitting next to the bed with his feet tugged up to his chest and a notebook resting on his knees is
Yixing. These days there is always Yixing.
"Which day is today?" Lu Han pushes himself into a sitting position and finds himself not on a bed as he had first thought, but on a couch, with a ratty blanket thrown over his chest. The room is definitely the old flat he had once lived in during college.
Yixing taps a pen on his cheek, deep in thought, and finally smiles, the right dimple deepening.
"Between the course of Monday and Friday. Right on time."
"What does that mean?" Lu Han combs his fingers through his hair and looks into the nearest island for a hand mirror. He finds it in one of the drawers, underneath piles of drafted files and sticky notes. He studies his reflection, takes note of his pink-colored highlights on his hair, the subtle sign of the cut on his cheek and the dark circles underneath his eyes. He has a vague recollection of why he has woken up to this.
"It means," Yixing tilts his head as he leans back on the chair, "That you're likely not going back to sleep again. It's finally your choice to wake up."
Lu Han tears his eyes away from the mirror and gives Yixing a confused look. "That still doesn't explain everything."
Yixing merely smiles at him and lowers his legs to the floor, standing up from the chair and leaning forward to peck the corner of Lu Han's mouth.
"Come on. Your day awaits."
*
When Lu Han finally wakes up to reality, his eyes still drowsy from sleeping too long, his mind swimming in clouds of fluff, the first person he sees is Yixing. Dozing on the chair nearby, the long fringe of hair cast over his eyes. Lu Han smiles, the muscles of his face contorting strangely from the lack of use, but then he realizes Yixing has his hand entwined with someone else's hand.
A sharp stab goes right through his chest, tearing through imaginary flesh, bone and organs.
"Oh, you're awake." A voice floats from the other side of his view, and then Minseok's face is hovering above him, obscuring the view of Yixing sleeping in another man's arms.
It's Minseok's smile that greets Lu Han first. "How are you feeling? Yixing wasn't lying when he said you were allergic to meds."
"Kill me please," Lu Han pleads softly. He doesn't ask what had happened. He doesn't ask why he is in an unfamiliar room. He doesn't ask why Yixing isn't awake when Lu Han finally comes through.
Now Lu Han remembers why has been having vague dreams about Yixing the whole time. Or why he has been having trouble with sleeping. He doesn't ask for the reason why he was bedridden in the first place.
This is the reality he has been trying to reform.
Minseok frowns at him, his face grim. "What's wrong? Does your stomach hurt? I'll get the doctor for you."
Lu Han pinches his eyes closed and turns his face to the other side of the room.
*
Things get worse when Lu Han is released from hospital. Although he and Yixing are still roommates, the privacy of their shared habitat is disturbed with Yixing's boyfriend, Kris, trudging up and down the room. Kris tends to go through Yixing's CD collection in the living-room to find some soothing music to fill the room and sometimes poruses Lu Han's corner of Wuxia novels whenever he is bored.
Kris hasn't done anything wrong, though, but Lu Han wants to hate him. He wants to fight him too, for the hand of Yixing. In the deep of the night, he wishes bad things to happen with Kris.
But in the end, Kris is still the asshole who effortlessly makes Yixing smile the brightest.
Yixing is standing on his tiptoes as he presses a kiss on Kris' cheek.
"More?" Yixing teases, the dimple dipping deep as he smiles.
"Yes, please," Kris answers.
Lu Han turns his face away as his roommate is busy planting more kisses onto Kris' face. The imaginary knife is wringing a hole into his chest.
From the corner of his eye, Minseok is staring at him. Closely studying his face. These days, Minseok's visits have been becoming frequent too, his critical eyes forever on Lu Han. Waiting. Anticipating something. Lu Han ignores the panic at being discovered and quickly makes an excuse to take the first shower.
*
"I'm getting better," Lu Han says to the mirror. His reflection looks hollowed out, pale and thin. Dark circles are colored underneath his eyes.
A memory flashes by, showing Kris hugging Yixing from behind as the latter prepares dinner. Yixing is laughing and then orders Kris to cut onions for him. Kris pretends to refuse but he is already reaching for the kitchen knife and rummaging through the pantry for an onion head.
Crash!
Lu Han loses track of the days. He loses track of time. For him, the world is standing still, since the moment he had awoken.
"Lu Han, what's that noise?" Minseok stops short at the door, takes note of the shattered mess and curses. "Don't you dare touch anything!" He grabs Lu Han's wrist with such a force he propels him into the other room. Minseok forces him to sit down on the bed.
"You idiot. What were you thinking?" Minseok looks at the wound with critical eyes. "Wait here. I'm going to get the kit from your kitchen."
Lu Han is left alone, cradling a bloodied hand, his eyes calmly trailing the sight of thin red liquid streaming down the cut and then looks at the other room he had been in. Shattered glass litters the bathroom floor, each coated with spatters of red.
Minseok barges into the room holding a red first aid kit and riffles through the contents with shaking fingers. "Idiot. Idiot."
*
Yixing doesn't really meant it.
"I'm sorry, Lu Han." Yixing is patting Lu Han's hand. "I don't want you to leave."
Yixing definitely doesn't mean this.
"I'm sorry too." Lu Han thinks aloud. I can no longer live with you.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Yixing asks softly, his eyes sad and his face earnest. Lu Han doesn't have the heart to tell him everything in detail. That the reason he is moving out is because he cannot stand the sight of Yixing and Kris being close. He cannot stand the sight of Yixing being the happiest when Kris is around.
This is a good decision. He doesn't want to lose Yixing completely.
"No, it's fine." Lu Han forces a smile. "You and Kris need your own space together."
Minseok is the one who helps Lu Han gather his stuff in the apartment into large boxes. Yixing tries to help too but Lu Han sends him off on a wild errand chase in the nearest supermarket, keeping him away for just a moment.
"Where are you going to stay?" Minseok asks him quietly.
Lu Han shrugs. "I don't know."
"Stay with me," Minseok blurts out. Lu Han hesitates at being another burden to Minseok. He realizes Minseok has been right there all this time, bearing Lu Han's state.
"I don't want to give you any more troubles."
"Believe me," Minseok visibly swallows. "You're not."
"You've already done so much for me." Lu Han feels his sight blurring and clenches his fists.
"You're worth it," Minseok says. His voice oddly serious and deep in Lu Han's ears.
*
At first it's strange to live with Minseok. Lu Han has been so used to Yixing's living habits, Lu Han has developed a tunnel vision regarding sharing a flat with another person. Minseok is very consistent about cleaning and laundry. All his clothes are ironed and neatly arranged in the closet. The bathroom is spot clean, giving off the smell of citronella and bleach. The only downside of their living together is that Minseok cannot cook as well as Yixing does. He tries his hardest the first week, for Lu Han's sake. But dinner ends up either inedible or burnt. Lu Han isn't known for his cooking abilities either. So they start investing in cups of noodles, microwavable dinners, sandwiches and sandwich spread. On days when Minseok is particularly adventurous, he resorts to frying eggs on a pan.
"Here's the egg." Minseok uses a spatula to flip the egg into Lu Han's bowl of noodles.
Lu Han peers into his soup and laughs at the floating egg. "It looks like a happy face."
"Thank God it is," Minseok mutters. "Otherwise, the egg loses his purpose to brighten your day."
"I can see your effort here." Lu Han uses his chopsticks to point to the visible burn marks on the otherwise fluffy edges of the yolk.
"You still want your sandwich or not, Lu Han?" Minseok huffs in annoyance.
"Yes, please."
"Then don't criticize the chef."
*
Lu Han avoids the mirror in Minseok's bathroom the first two week. He lowers his eyes whenever he reaches for his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink. His eyes darts away as he walks past the mirror on his way out of the room. He braves the mirror the following week and is surprised to see a stranger in his reflection. He touches his cheeks and his brow. He leans closer to check his eyes. Is this really him? There is life in his skin.
*
"The picture in the catalog lied," is the first thing Lu Han says when he enters the living-room to see Minseok stuffing popcorn into his mouth. "It wasn't even part of their stock. Apparently the printing staff was awfully crafty. Did they even have an editor to look through all the errors? I really wanted that shirt."
"What?" Minseok stares at him, blank-faced, while his popcorn hovers in front of his mouth.
Lu Han doesn't reply immediately, dropping his backpack on the floor besides the couch and plopping down next to Minseok, swiping a few treats from the popcorn bowl. "Too sweet. Did you buy the wrong popcorn?"
"They didn't have extra butter. But honey is also okay." Minseok shrugs, placing the bowl between their thighs and faces the television screen. "Darnit, I missed that part!" He fumbles with the remote and fiddles with the buttons using his pinky. He takes special care not to touch the remote control with his sticky fingers but the surface still ends up with patches of oily finger prints.
While he is at it, Lu Han presses their shoulders together and tilts his head to rest against
Minseok's shoulder. He shifts a bit to make himself comfortable.
"You smell nice." Lu Han comments absently, facing the TV as he tugs his legs up to his chin.
"I just smell like food to you," Minseok replies. He pauses and takes a sniff in Lu Han's direction.
"Are you wearing cologne?" He gives Lu Han a side glance. "You are. You smell like Kris' expensive cologne. Why are you wearing it anyway? You only went to the store to buy a shirt."
Lu Han hums in response, either distracted or pretending to ignore the question. Minseok doesn't let go.
"Okay, where exactly did you go? How early did you leave the house this time? 3AM?"
Silence stretches out between them, filled only by the chatters of the actors of the movie playing in the background.
"Lu Han," Minseok says seriously. When Lu Han doesn't react, Minseok sighs and stuffs popcorn into Lu Han's shirt. "Fine, be that way."
"Hey!" Lu Han snatches some of kernels from the popcorn bowl and pelts Minseok in revenge.
By the end of their childish squabble, Minseok's eyes are glowing in mirth. A tiny smirk is playing tug of war with his stiff mouth. The sounds of violin coming from the stereo suddenly deafens Lu Han's ears, clearing away crowded thoughts and now Lu Han is focused on Minseok. Solely on Minseok and the hint of a smile. His chest is soaring. This is a freefall.
Lu Han surges forward and wounds his arms around Minseok's neck. Their lips connect in an awkward mash of teeth and chins.
*
"I'm okay now," Lu Han says to himself.
The clock is ticking. He doesn't look up to read the time. It's probably 4AM or some other ungodly hour now. He rolls around on the bed, trying to find a comfortably position, but with his sleeping space cut in half it feels cramped. Why can't he be just like a normal person? Falling asleep as soon as he hits the mattress.
"Stop wiggling," the voice beside him grumbles, heavy from sleep. An arm is thrown around Lu
Han's chest, pulling him into the warmth of the other man's body.
"Can't sleep," Lu Han confesses, curling himself up so that his nose is pressed into the other man's shoulder.
"It's okay. I'm here." Minseok presses a kiss on his temple and arranges himself for Lu Han to lay on top of him.
"Not a teddy bear." Lu Han grumbles, but happily lays his head down, pressing his ear to Minseok's chest. The sound of Minseok's rhythmic heartbeat against his ear matches the sound of Lu Han's own heartbeat.
"Everything is fine now." He murmurs into Minseok's chest and closes his eyes, determinedly willing himself to sleep.
*
Mondays, Tuesdays, the whole week onwards, Lu Han only has Minseok. He runs into him in all the different universes of his dreams. And when Lu Han wakes up, Minseok is there, right beside him in this reality.
The End
A/N: I'd like to thank donawhalee for the wonderful prompts. I've wanted to include all of them into the fanfiction, but alas I don't think I'm capable enough to create something you initially had in mind.
Also, I'm extremely grateful to umbrellas-can who braved through my nonsense with her beta-ing. ;A; Any errors still found in this work is solely my fault.
Enjoy~!
For: donawhalee
Pairing: Lu Han-centric, Lu Han/Lay, mention Kris/Lay, Jongin/Kyungsoo, Jongin/Lu Han, Sehun/Lu Han, Minseok/Lu Han.
Rating: R
Length: 6k
Summary, potential warnings: AU - Lu Han goes through his days thinking Yixing is made for him. In reality, his moments are just part of a dream. (mention of sexual situations, dream scapes and depression episodes)
----
His mind just won't shut up. One moment he is thinking about sales targets this month, the new market research campaign for the following month, and the next moment he is counting the blackened spots in the ceiling, wondering how they got there and listing off potential cleaning products to erase those marks.
He tosses his blankets off, wearing only a flimsy green tank top and boxers in bed. Despite the AC going full blast his body feels unbearably hot. Palming himself through his shorts doesn't help relieve the heat and instead he remains unsatisfied and painfully aware of the growing embarrassment raking through his body. He curls up to the colder side of the bed and squeezes his eyes closed.
Please sleep. Please go back to sleep. His thoughts start to wander after his nth attempt to repeat those words.
What is the success rate of using the same mantra all over again?
Should he take up meditation to calm his mind?
Was he ill?
He doesn't know where to identify the problem. His mind is too loud. He turns to the other side of the bed, shifting closer to the wall and bumps his knees against the surface. After much tossing and turning, he feels like a weight has settled upon his head, weighing down his mind.
*
"Sshhhh. He's finally asleep."
"What did you do?"
"I just slipped some pills into his drink."
"Are you trying to kill him? Lu Han is allergic to a lot of medicine, including sleeping pills."
"Aw, damn. Then we should've gone with my plan, knocking him out cold. What should we do?"
"To the hospital of course! Get the car!"
*
Lu Han dreams of falling. He dreams of soaring. His stomach lurches in protest when he eventually dives into the air.
*
Wednesdays are days when Lu Han wakes up tangled in pink sheets, a standing fan blowing coarse wind into his face and the smell of week old laundry shoved in the basket underneath the bed. The AC had broken two days ago, leaving stale air lingering in the room, tickling Lu Han's nose in the one moment it decides to be sensitive. Pushing himself off the bed, he finally starts his morning ritual.
Lu Han checks the kitchen and right in the middle of the dinner table there's a pink Hello Kitty lunch box with a sticky note saying 'pick me' in his roommate's handwriting. He pops open the lid to see what his roommate has prepared for today and feels his mouth water at the sight of the neatly organized lunch with star-shaped carrots, octopus sausages, heart-shaped cucumbers and a grilled ham-cheese sandwich in the middle, with some leftover noodles from last night.
He promptly texts his roommate, filling the space with blinking hearts and kisses. He receives a reply right when he is ready to put his bag together, stuffing folders, pens and journal into one side and slipping a medium-sized notebook into the bigger compartment.
"Ew," Lu Han reads. "Who gave you the right to slobber me with cute emoticons?"
Wednesdays is when he and Yixing are still roommates, living in close quarters and sharing cooking duties - though he usually leaves the cooking to Yixing.
"Lazy," Yixing had called him, but he agreed to be the resident cook if Lu Han stops trying to make the microwave work differently than it was created for.
Lu Han is out of the apartment in fifteen minutes and jogs to the nearest bus station.
After a gruesome work day slaving behind numbers and reports, Lu Han trudges home with sagging shoulders. The earlier enthusiasm to meet his day head-on is no longer traceable in his demeanor. When he enters the apartment, the kitchen smells of home-made dumplings and roasted duck. Yixing peaks his head from the kitchen.
"Welcome back! You're just in time to taste my first ever dip sauce for the roasted duck." Yixing stops stirring in the small bowl and offers Lu Han a spoon to taste.
"It's good," Lu Han hums.
"Is it too salty?" Yixing worries his lower lip with his teeth.
Lu Han licks the spoon again and presses his lips to Yixing's own, transferring the taste along the tip of Yixing's tongue.
"How's that?"
Yixing smiles, his face looking deceptively lost. "I don't know. Let me try again." Lu Han sees the slight twitches in Yixing's smile and complies for another round of taste sharing.
Wednesdays are also days when Lu Han and Yixing are happily living together.
*
Mondays are about games. He is the memberof the school's regular soccer team. He is up at five, jogging the whole way to morning practice with a jam sandwich hanging out of his mouth and hoisting his sports bag on one shoulder. Those days he is focused on the bigger picture, sets higher goals and thinks of the one-time Manchester United signed shirt smelling moldy and stuffy in the back of his locker. Getting into the nationals is all he ever wants.
'Fighting' is a daily text message he gets during practice. He doesn't recognize the number. But he suspects it's probably from one of his many fans.
One of the members of the official soccer club, Minseok, gives him a concerned look. "Maybe you should change your number."
"It doesn't bother me." Lu Han shrugs as he puts his stuff into his locker.
"What if it's a stalker?"
"Why would anyone want to stalk a nobody of this team?"
Minseok sighs, bopping him lightly against the shoulder with his fist. "You're not a nobody, Lu Han. At least you're more popular than I am."
On Mondays, Lu Han spots Yixing with a camera hanging from his neck sitting next to the water bench. Yixing beckons Lu Han to come closer during practice. Lu Han refuses to acknowledge the signal at first, turning his attention to the other way. After another half hour of practice, Lu Han spots Yixing still sitting at the bench, occasionally raising the camera up to take random pictures of everyone in the field. But most of the time, Lu Han feels the lens is on him, following his every move, his every turn.
"Hey," Lu Han says awkwardly as he approaches Yixing. He has a towel over his neck.
"Lu Han!" Yixing beams at him, sparkly-eyed and standing to offer a handshake. "I'm doing an assignment for the newspaper club about the exceptional members of the school soccer team and I'm in charge of your edition."
"Why?" Lu Han blurts out. "I'm not interesting enough. I'm not even part of the regular line up."
"It doesn't matter." Yixing clutches his camera. "From what I've seen today, you're more than just a substitute player in the field. You have the ability to go beyond that."
"Do you even know what you're talking about?" Lu Han narrows his eyes and rests his hands on his hips.
"I just had a crash course about soccer last night, so I think I'm good to go." Yixing flashes him another smile, giving him a thumbs up. The way Yixing handles his interview, Lu Han is more than skeptical of Yixing's credibility being part of the newspaper club. Or his supposed knowledge about the game at hand. Yet for some reason, despite his growing irritation towards
Yixing's ignorance to the game Lu Han's blood has craved for since he entered high school, Lu
Han ends up asking Yixing out for coffee.
Not a date, he has emphasized. Just a meeting of two people to discuss further details about his beloved sport, of course. To punch in facts and the rules of the game into Yixing's head, he tries to convince himself.
Mondays are spent going out with Yixing, trying to convince him to study the sport more seriously.
*
Tuesdays are reserved for his girlfriend. He walks her to school, sometimes brings her along on his bicycle, her thin arms wound around his waist like a brace. His path down the road is straight, with no bumps, no holes, no ups and downs-as a petal rain showers over their heads at every turn.
"We're married every day," his girlfriend laughs. Lu Han laughs with her and thinks, this is all going to pass. He leaves her at her class and then wanders to his own class, bumping shoulders with his seatmate as a way of greeting.
His path is already decided. After high school, he will go abroad and finish his schooling in a foreign boarding school. Once he is graduated, he will come back, look for his girlfriend and ask her to marry him. When he turns thirty he might be running his family's business as head executive and he might just be a father of a six-year-old child.
His girlfriend hadn't waited for his return, though, despite her promise. She is engaged to some guy her parents had chosen. Lu Han's parents, in turn, have already lined up folders of potential girlfriends for Lu Han to pick out.
"We should elope," he says rather casually when he seeks her out.
She is crying and refuses. "What a cowardly way to face the music!"
After his remark, he never sees her again.
On Tuesdays, Lu Han remembers Yixing as the girl who got away.
*
Thursdays, Fridays and weekends are roughly the same with slight differences in the company he shares. Thursdays are Sehun's sessions on infinite and limit values of advanced calculus over bubble tea and then they go out, gossiping about noted strategies of last week's games.
Fridays are for Jongin, in front of the television as they battle it out cheering for opposing soccer teams. He is at Minseok's place in the weekends, planning to drag him out onto the field for a friendly rivalry soccer game.
*
It must be Friday. His calendar is scribbled with red notes and reminders.
Must go to Jongin. New game is on. Bring snacks! Bring drinks!
Lu Han checks the clock. Almost two in the afternoon. The game is going to begin soon. Lu Han jogs the whole way to Jongin's apartment, stopping only for a moment to buy snacks and a tray of beer. A quick fifteen minute walk later, he is at Jongin's door, kicking against the door as a form of knocking since his hands are full holding bags of food.
Lu Han is surprised when a short, slender boy dressed in too large black pajamas answers the door instead of Jongin. Thick tufts of hair are sticking wildly to one side, as if he has been in the process of combing the hair to resemble something not like a bird's nest. Round eyes are taking in Lu Han's appearance without a word. Lu Han shuffles self consciously under the surprisingly steely gaze.
"Uhm. Sorry. I got the wrong apartment." Lu Han stammers, hugging the grocery bag filled with snacks close to his stomach. He is about to back away, glances anxiously at the number on the door. Maybe he has picked the wrong number. He squints at it and stands his ground.
But this is Jongin's apartment.
"Lu Han, is it?"
"Yes." Lu Han scrutinizes the stranger now. He doesn't remember giving away his name to strangers like this one. "Who are you?"
"Do Kyungsoo." The boy doesn't offer a hand. "It seems like you've missed the memo."
"What memo?" Lu Han cocks his head.
"That today there won't be any game watching. Didn't you receive a text message?"
"What are you saying? We always watch games together on Fridays."
"Well, not today."
"Where is Jongin?" Lu Han narrows his eyes at Kyungsoo.
"Still sleeping."
"Sleeping? This late? Wait, why are you in his apartment? His roommate left last month." Upon closer inspection, Lu Han finally recognizes the black pajamas belonging to Jongin. And when Lu Han angles his head a little to the right, he could spot a large angry red spot peeking from underneath the collar. Lu Han stares at Kyungsoo, who stares right back at him.
"Oh my God," Lu Han says, the realization slowly dawning on him.
"Indeed." Kyungsoo mutters.
"How long has it been going between you two?"
"None of your business." Kyungsoo slants an eye to him. Lu Han doesn't know whether to laugh or step away from this boy. Why was he hostile towards him?
"All right. All right. I get the message." Lu Han puts on his best smile. "You want Jongin all to yourself today."
"Yes." Kyungsoo answer is too immediate.
"Okay, I'm going." Lu Han squashes the disappointed feeling of missing the soccer game and turns on his heel, ready to go back home. "Congratulations," he manages to throw over his shoulder. He rounds the corner, seeing just a slight motion of Kyungsoo closing the door. Lu Han bites back a laugh before going back to his apartment to spend the night alone.
*
This is a memory.
Lu Han remembers the one time Jongin's team had beaten Lu Han's own. Jongin had whooped in joy and crowed out a random victory song, while dancing some strange popping and locking machine move. Jongin couldn't contain his excitement and simply swooped down and tackled Lu
Han on the couch, planting a big fat kiss on his mouth.
Lu Han had struggled against the kiss at first, surprised and disgusted, because Jongin was just a regular guy Lu Han went to whenever there is a game between their favorite soccer teams. A fuzzy flash of memory reminded Lu Han that he and Jongin had once rutted against each other on the couch in Jongin's living room.
Lu Han has almost forgotten they had done something like that after a game. They had promised not to talk about that night and Lu Han promptly pushed the memory to the very back of his mind. They still remained friends, watching games together on Fridays and squabbling about their own team's tactics and play in the field.
He thought perhaps Jongin had also forgotten about it. Lu Han was wrong though.
That night, as he plays video games with himself, consoling himself of missing the game of the century, Jongin has asked to meet downstairs.
"I think... I think I loved you, you know," Jongin confesses. Any thought processes running through Lu Han's mind screeches to a halt and he loosens his jaw.
"How long?" Lu Han manages to work his mouth.
Jongin shrugs. "Maybe since last year? Since we slept together for the first time."
Last year. Lu Han recalls the time and his face flushes immediately.
"That long? What about Kyungsoo?" He scrambles to say.
"I love him."
"Oh." Lu Han deflates, trying to calm his heart. "Why are you saying this now?"
"Because-" Jongin stops. "Because I need to do it for myself. I need to let you go. I was so frustrated. You were right there and you never even noticed me."
Lu Han stays silent for a while. An awkwardness that never existed before settles between them. "How did you and Kyungsoo meet?" He decides to break the ice, hoping the new topic might help their friendship.
A small smile appears on Jongin's face. "Long story."
"Give me a rundown then?"
"Maybe some other time." Jongin looks guilty, hunching his shoulders as he hooks his thumbs into his jeans pockets. "I need to go back. Kyungsoo might worry."
"Hey, Jongin, congratulations." Lu Han calls out to him. Jongin nods in response and raises a hand to wave good bye.
Friday, that day, is the day Lu Han gets trapped in the elevator of his apartment building on the way back. There's another person trapped along with him.
That's where he meets Yixing, the neighbor on the eighth floor, who works as a piano instructor.
Time is slow when they are stuck in the dark with nothing else to do but sit and wait for rescue.
"What if no one comes?" Yixing wonders.
"They will. This is the only elevator in use." Lu Han doesn't voice that he had wondered about that as well. It's past eleven already, most of the other occupants of the apartment are probably in bed, watching TV.
"What if we run out of oxygen before they break through the door?" Yixing continues.
"We won't. We just need to breathe slowly." Lu Han tries to sound reassuring. He could hear the panic in Yixing's voice. The other man is trying to suppress his fear but he is probably on the brink of hysteria.
"What if we go crazy from all this waiting?" If Lu Han hadn't known Yixing was working as a simple piano instructor, he would have assumed Yixing was a horror writer, specializing in doomed endings.
"We won't." Lu Han pauses thoughtfully, "At least I won't. I'm not sure about your sanity though."
"I don't want to die just yet." Yixing is now at the verge of hysteria. Lu Han is sure of it.
"Don't think too much about it."
"I'm Yixing, by the way. Before I die, I'd like you to know that your voice is really warm."
"I--." Lu Han sputters.
"Can I kiss you?"
"What?"
"I don't want to die without kissing someone."
"What?" Whatwhatwhatwhat? Lu Han feels small hands holding his face and then someone is climbing to sit on his lap. Yixing is kissing him.
Although Fridays are for Jongin, somewhere along the day, Lu Han starts an elevator relationship with Yixing from the eighth floor.
*
Today, it's Thursday.
No matter how many times Lu Han explains the functions of the math problems, Sehun seems to get it right the first time. And yet, when exams come in, Sehun fails to execute the proper function or skips several steps ahead, coming to the wrong conclusion.
Lu Han knows Sehun is a bright kid. If he puts his mind into it, he will succeed.
This is another memory.
Lu Han had dozed off holding a book on his lap, head tipped back on the couch. He had left
Sehun to solve a sheet of problems and thought about catching up with his own studies.
Halfway through the second paragraph Lu Han's eyes drooped heavily and he was out. He only woke at the feeling of a curling unexpected heat in the pit of his stomach.
His eyes were fuzzy and filled with sleep as they opened. He spotted Sehun's head hovering above Lu Han's lap. With a jolt the realization came that he felt warm air brushing his lower stomach. And then he realized it was a hot tongue dragging along the length of his cock.
"What are you doing?" he had slurred.
"Making you comfortable," Sehun had answered cheekily and long, thin fingers dug into Lu Han's hips.
"I don't want to be comfortable."
"Just be patient."
Lu Han wanted to blame it on his exhausted state for not fighting back. He wanted to blame it on himself, still being deep asleep. He wanted to blame it on his forever-single status and the lack of sex in his life.
Their relationship wouldn't last though, Lu han was sure. Sehun had a flighty personality. And he was very young and idealistic.
Lu Han remembered the hurt look crossing Sehun's eyes when he rejected him immediately. The blow job was fine. But expecting a relationship from Lu Han was out of the question.
Lu Han cut off their ties altogether. It was for the best. He asked for another student to work with because the money was good and he needed extra credits.
His next student is an even worse one. Yixing has an attention span of a fly. One moment he is concentrating on the test and the next thing Lu Han sees is the concentration gradually disappearing from Yixing's face and Yixing is off to dreamland, staring into space. He ends up tugging frustratingly at his hair and tries to call upon Yixing's attention to the task at hand.
Thursday, now, consists of getting Yixing to raise his grades to passable marks. And when Yixing does pass his tests with flying colors, he demands a reward.
"This isn't funny, Yixing." Lu Han tugs at the bedpost where his arms are fastened. Yixing hums a random song as he pulls out a feather from his so-called play kit and shoves Lu Han's shirt up to his neck.
"I won't hurt you one bit." Yixing tips the feather onto Lu Han's skin, trailing lightly against his ribs. Lu Han shudders and squirms, all the while convulsing into uncontrollable laughter.
*
Weekends are focused on Minseok. There is a soccer game. There is a noodle stand. Some laughing.
It's all Lu Han can remember being with Minseok. The blank slate in his mind makes him frown upon this whole setting. He forces his mind eye to look further, to look deeper into whatever went wrong during the weekends, why he is having trouble remembering them. Yixing's face morphs into Minseok's own.
Then it's Yixing bumping shoulders with him on the field. If Lu Han turns away, there is Minseok running after the ball. One blink of his eye, it's Yixing after the ball, attempting a hattrick on his own.
*
Despite breaking out his whole week into blocks of likely things to expect, the only constant that connects all his days is one person, Zhang Yixing. He is in all of Lu Han's days, close by or just within reach. Right there to kick him off the bed, right there to judge his every dumb move in the playing field, right there to tease him about his girlfriend. Following him like a shadow, but with extra blinding lights attached to his very being that makes it hard for Lu Han to ignore him or to look away.
"That's because," Yixing says, small hands reaching forward to cup Lu Han's face, "I am real and everyone else is a figment of your imagination."
He is staring at Yixing now. Tracing the slope of Yixing's nose, the slant of Yixing's eyes, the smooth arch of his eyebrows, the sparkle in Yixing's dark eyes, the soft contours of his cheekbones.
His hands are resting on Yixing's arms, feeling the slight bulk of soon-to-be-developed muscles underneath the fabric, and his fingers tighten.
"Kiss me," he murmurs, lowering his eyes to focus on Yixing's plump lips.
A pink tongue darts out as Yixing licks his lips. "Okay." He finishes quietly and leans forward.
*
There is a hand on his back, slowly rubbing up and down, soothing, shushing. His head does an unexpected twist and empties itself through flashes of sepia-colored movie scenes until all his thoughts are eventually silenced. He is staring at the carpet, at the span of space between his folded hands on his lap and the tufts of red peeking from underneath his socks.
Someone is speaking to him, very loudly, trying to break the silence. He tries to follow the sound, but the effort is lost as Lu Han can't connect the words to the sound coming from between the moving lips. Those lips keep moving though, forming syllables without meaning and then they stop. White, straight front teeth peek from underneath lips as the owner bites down on the lower lip.
A pair of hands come up from either side of his face and covers his eyes, darkening his sight.
Lu Han tenses in his seat and raises his hands to touch the wrists hovering in front of his face.
Off, he thinks.
When he manages to push the offending hands away, Lu Han is somehow lying on his back, staring at a blank ceiling. Slow instrumental music is playing in the background. The piano is particularly prominent in the melody, darting fast and high over the bass. There is a smoky smell of an electric lamp burning too long when he takes a deep breath. A fan is humming nearby as it blows dry air around the room.
"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," someone teases nearby.
Lu Han frowns. Not a beauty, he wants to retort, his eyes going to the person who spoke. Sitting next to the bed with his feet tugged up to his chest and a notebook resting on his knees is
Yixing. These days there is always Yixing.
"Which day is today?" Lu Han pushes himself into a sitting position and finds himself not on a bed as he had first thought, but on a couch, with a ratty blanket thrown over his chest. The room is definitely the old flat he had once lived in during college.
Yixing taps a pen on his cheek, deep in thought, and finally smiles, the right dimple deepening.
"Between the course of Monday and Friday. Right on time."
"What does that mean?" Lu Han combs his fingers through his hair and looks into the nearest island for a hand mirror. He finds it in one of the drawers, underneath piles of drafted files and sticky notes. He studies his reflection, takes note of his pink-colored highlights on his hair, the subtle sign of the cut on his cheek and the dark circles underneath his eyes. He has a vague recollection of why he has woken up to this.
"It means," Yixing tilts his head as he leans back on the chair, "That you're likely not going back to sleep again. It's finally your choice to wake up."
Lu Han tears his eyes away from the mirror and gives Yixing a confused look. "That still doesn't explain everything."
Yixing merely smiles at him and lowers his legs to the floor, standing up from the chair and leaning forward to peck the corner of Lu Han's mouth.
"Come on. Your day awaits."
*
When Lu Han finally wakes up to reality, his eyes still drowsy from sleeping too long, his mind swimming in clouds of fluff, the first person he sees is Yixing. Dozing on the chair nearby, the long fringe of hair cast over his eyes. Lu Han smiles, the muscles of his face contorting strangely from the lack of use, but then he realizes Yixing has his hand entwined with someone else's hand.
A sharp stab goes right through his chest, tearing through imaginary flesh, bone and organs.
"Oh, you're awake." A voice floats from the other side of his view, and then Minseok's face is hovering above him, obscuring the view of Yixing sleeping in another man's arms.
It's Minseok's smile that greets Lu Han first. "How are you feeling? Yixing wasn't lying when he said you were allergic to meds."
"Kill me please," Lu Han pleads softly. He doesn't ask what had happened. He doesn't ask why he is in an unfamiliar room. He doesn't ask why Yixing isn't awake when Lu Han finally comes through.
Now Lu Han remembers why has been having vague dreams about Yixing the whole time. Or why he has been having trouble with sleeping. He doesn't ask for the reason why he was bedridden in the first place.
This is the reality he has been trying to reform.
Minseok frowns at him, his face grim. "What's wrong? Does your stomach hurt? I'll get the doctor for you."
Lu Han pinches his eyes closed and turns his face to the other side of the room.
*
Things get worse when Lu Han is released from hospital. Although he and Yixing are still roommates, the privacy of their shared habitat is disturbed with Yixing's boyfriend, Kris, trudging up and down the room. Kris tends to go through Yixing's CD collection in the living-room to find some soothing music to fill the room and sometimes poruses Lu Han's corner of Wuxia novels whenever he is bored.
Kris hasn't done anything wrong, though, but Lu Han wants to hate him. He wants to fight him too, for the hand of Yixing. In the deep of the night, he wishes bad things to happen with Kris.
But in the end, Kris is still the asshole who effortlessly makes Yixing smile the brightest.
Yixing is standing on his tiptoes as he presses a kiss on Kris' cheek.
"More?" Yixing teases, the dimple dipping deep as he smiles.
"Yes, please," Kris answers.
Lu Han turns his face away as his roommate is busy planting more kisses onto Kris' face. The imaginary knife is wringing a hole into his chest.
From the corner of his eye, Minseok is staring at him. Closely studying his face. These days, Minseok's visits have been becoming frequent too, his critical eyes forever on Lu Han. Waiting. Anticipating something. Lu Han ignores the panic at being discovered and quickly makes an excuse to take the first shower.
*
"I'm getting better," Lu Han says to the mirror. His reflection looks hollowed out, pale and thin. Dark circles are colored underneath his eyes.
A memory flashes by, showing Kris hugging Yixing from behind as the latter prepares dinner. Yixing is laughing and then orders Kris to cut onions for him. Kris pretends to refuse but he is already reaching for the kitchen knife and rummaging through the pantry for an onion head.
Crash!
Lu Han loses track of the days. He loses track of time. For him, the world is standing still, since the moment he had awoken.
"Lu Han, what's that noise?" Minseok stops short at the door, takes note of the shattered mess and curses. "Don't you dare touch anything!" He grabs Lu Han's wrist with such a force he propels him into the other room. Minseok forces him to sit down on the bed.
"You idiot. What were you thinking?" Minseok looks at the wound with critical eyes. "Wait here. I'm going to get the kit from your kitchen."
Lu Han is left alone, cradling a bloodied hand, his eyes calmly trailing the sight of thin red liquid streaming down the cut and then looks at the other room he had been in. Shattered glass litters the bathroom floor, each coated with spatters of red.
Minseok barges into the room holding a red first aid kit and riffles through the contents with shaking fingers. "Idiot. Idiot."
*
Yixing doesn't really meant it.
"I'm sorry, Lu Han." Yixing is patting Lu Han's hand. "I don't want you to leave."
Yixing definitely doesn't mean this.
"I'm sorry too." Lu Han thinks aloud. I can no longer live with you.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Yixing asks softly, his eyes sad and his face earnest. Lu Han doesn't have the heart to tell him everything in detail. That the reason he is moving out is because he cannot stand the sight of Yixing and Kris being close. He cannot stand the sight of Yixing being the happiest when Kris is around.
This is a good decision. He doesn't want to lose Yixing completely.
"No, it's fine." Lu Han forces a smile. "You and Kris need your own space together."
Minseok is the one who helps Lu Han gather his stuff in the apartment into large boxes. Yixing tries to help too but Lu Han sends him off on a wild errand chase in the nearest supermarket, keeping him away for just a moment.
"Where are you going to stay?" Minseok asks him quietly.
Lu Han shrugs. "I don't know."
"Stay with me," Minseok blurts out. Lu Han hesitates at being another burden to Minseok. He realizes Minseok has been right there all this time, bearing Lu Han's state.
"I don't want to give you any more troubles."
"Believe me," Minseok visibly swallows. "You're not."
"You've already done so much for me." Lu Han feels his sight blurring and clenches his fists.
"You're worth it," Minseok says. His voice oddly serious and deep in Lu Han's ears.
*
At first it's strange to live with Minseok. Lu Han has been so used to Yixing's living habits, Lu Han has developed a tunnel vision regarding sharing a flat with another person. Minseok is very consistent about cleaning and laundry. All his clothes are ironed and neatly arranged in the closet. The bathroom is spot clean, giving off the smell of citronella and bleach. The only downside of their living together is that Minseok cannot cook as well as Yixing does. He tries his hardest the first week, for Lu Han's sake. But dinner ends up either inedible or burnt. Lu Han isn't known for his cooking abilities either. So they start investing in cups of noodles, microwavable dinners, sandwiches and sandwich spread. On days when Minseok is particularly adventurous, he resorts to frying eggs on a pan.
"Here's the egg." Minseok uses a spatula to flip the egg into Lu Han's bowl of noodles.
Lu Han peers into his soup and laughs at the floating egg. "It looks like a happy face."
"Thank God it is," Minseok mutters. "Otherwise, the egg loses his purpose to brighten your day."
"I can see your effort here." Lu Han uses his chopsticks to point to the visible burn marks on the otherwise fluffy edges of the yolk.
"You still want your sandwich or not, Lu Han?" Minseok huffs in annoyance.
"Yes, please."
"Then don't criticize the chef."
*
Lu Han avoids the mirror in Minseok's bathroom the first two week. He lowers his eyes whenever he reaches for his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink. His eyes darts away as he walks past the mirror on his way out of the room. He braves the mirror the following week and is surprised to see a stranger in his reflection. He touches his cheeks and his brow. He leans closer to check his eyes. Is this really him? There is life in his skin.
*
"The picture in the catalog lied," is the first thing Lu Han says when he enters the living-room to see Minseok stuffing popcorn into his mouth. "It wasn't even part of their stock. Apparently the printing staff was awfully crafty. Did they even have an editor to look through all the errors? I really wanted that shirt."
"What?" Minseok stares at him, blank-faced, while his popcorn hovers in front of his mouth.
Lu Han doesn't reply immediately, dropping his backpack on the floor besides the couch and plopping down next to Minseok, swiping a few treats from the popcorn bowl. "Too sweet. Did you buy the wrong popcorn?"
"They didn't have extra butter. But honey is also okay." Minseok shrugs, placing the bowl between their thighs and faces the television screen. "Darnit, I missed that part!" He fumbles with the remote and fiddles with the buttons using his pinky. He takes special care not to touch the remote control with his sticky fingers but the surface still ends up with patches of oily finger prints.
While he is at it, Lu Han presses their shoulders together and tilts his head to rest against
Minseok's shoulder. He shifts a bit to make himself comfortable.
"You smell nice." Lu Han comments absently, facing the TV as he tugs his legs up to his chin.
"I just smell like food to you," Minseok replies. He pauses and takes a sniff in Lu Han's direction.
"Are you wearing cologne?" He gives Lu Han a side glance. "You are. You smell like Kris' expensive cologne. Why are you wearing it anyway? You only went to the store to buy a shirt."
Lu Han hums in response, either distracted or pretending to ignore the question. Minseok doesn't let go.
"Okay, where exactly did you go? How early did you leave the house this time? 3AM?"
Silence stretches out between them, filled only by the chatters of the actors of the movie playing in the background.
"Lu Han," Minseok says seriously. When Lu Han doesn't react, Minseok sighs and stuffs popcorn into Lu Han's shirt. "Fine, be that way."
"Hey!" Lu Han snatches some of kernels from the popcorn bowl and pelts Minseok in revenge.
By the end of their childish squabble, Minseok's eyes are glowing in mirth. A tiny smirk is playing tug of war with his stiff mouth. The sounds of violin coming from the stereo suddenly deafens Lu Han's ears, clearing away crowded thoughts and now Lu Han is focused on Minseok. Solely on Minseok and the hint of a smile. His chest is soaring. This is a freefall.
Lu Han surges forward and wounds his arms around Minseok's neck. Their lips connect in an awkward mash of teeth and chins.
*
"I'm okay now," Lu Han says to himself.
The clock is ticking. He doesn't look up to read the time. It's probably 4AM or some other ungodly hour now. He rolls around on the bed, trying to find a comfortably position, but with his sleeping space cut in half it feels cramped. Why can't he be just like a normal person? Falling asleep as soon as he hits the mattress.
"Stop wiggling," the voice beside him grumbles, heavy from sleep. An arm is thrown around Lu
Han's chest, pulling him into the warmth of the other man's body.
"Can't sleep," Lu Han confesses, curling himself up so that his nose is pressed into the other man's shoulder.
"It's okay. I'm here." Minseok presses a kiss on his temple and arranges himself for Lu Han to lay on top of him.
"Not a teddy bear." Lu Han grumbles, but happily lays his head down, pressing his ear to Minseok's chest. The sound of Minseok's rhythmic heartbeat against his ear matches the sound of Lu Han's own heartbeat.
"Everything is fine now." He murmurs into Minseok's chest and closes his eyes, determinedly willing himself to sleep.
*
Mondays, Tuesdays, the whole week onwards, Lu Han only has Minseok. He runs into him in all the different universes of his dreams. And when Lu Han wakes up, Minseok is there, right beside him in this reality.
The End
A/N: I'd like to thank donawhalee for the wonderful prompts. I've wanted to include all of them into the fanfiction, but alas I don't think I'm capable enough to create something you initially had in mind.
Also, I'm extremely grateful to umbrellas-can who braved through my nonsense with her beta-ing. ;A; Any errors still found in this work is solely my fault.
Enjoy~!