there was a boy for bluedveins 2/2
iii.
“You need a trim.”
Jongin groans, but he lets Sehun run calculative fingers through his scalp. Sunlight pours in through half-shuttered blinds, a couple of which are turned up the wrong way. Jongin has been saying he’ll get them replaced for a couple of months. Sehun doubts he’ll really get down to it.
They’re lounging together in bed. Jongin has his face buried in a pillow as he lets out a few appreciative sighs while Sehun works out the kinks in his lower back. He’s been busy teaching students a new choreography for the Children’s Day show they’re opening in some grand hall. Jongin as always, throws himself into it with a fierce enthusiasm, eager to drown himself into the flurry of excitement he stirs up. The repercussions come faithfully as well, Sehun having to deal with Jongin tossing and turning in their bed, because his back is too sore and he can’t find a comfortable spot to settle on. It doesn’t matter even if Jongin couldn’t just nod off. Sehun hasn’t been able to sleep lately.
Things plague Sehun. Lots of things - the bills that are always stretched tight between both of them, the clients that aren’t enough for Sehun to pull through on his end, the scent of aftershave lingering on Jongin’s neck that always remains faintly familiar but not one Sehun can entirely place his finger on.
He doesn’t want to ask. That would bring everything to a standstill, bring it all down crashing into a collision he’s not ready to deal with. Jongin isn’t furtive or secretive. Maybe that’s the worst part, the part when their relationship began coasting on the easy wave of familiarity that never made them feel like strangers with each other. That was where they first started and now-
It seems like they are back to square one.
Today is the one day they were both free. Even then, Sehun has Chanyeol dropping in later on this evening for a haircut and colour. It’s fine, since they were all friends but work is work, even if disguised under easy socializing that is part and parcel of his job. It’s why Sehun quit the salon he’d been at for half a year. Social anxiety didn’t bode well for him in a high-pressure environment with an extremely demanding manager breathing down his neck 24/7, next to no tips and rich customers being a little too nitpicky about what they wanted.
Cutting hair is an art to him. Snipping, layering, teasing strands to fall just perfect - it was all art work to him.
What he couldn’t have for himself, he would give others.
“Sit still.”
Jongin waggles his eyebrows and Sehun sighs, adjusting in his boyfriend’s lap. He smooths a wet palm over thick dark strands and then lifts Jongin’s fringe up, at the forty five degree angle Sehun’s taught himself over the years. A couple of co-workers from the salon he worked at always fucked up bang trims from holding the hair up too high.
He licks his lips, as always, immersed in what he’s doing. Jongin’s hair has been in his face a lot and while Sehun knows they’re too busy for each other, this is always one thing he’s still kept up. Sehun squirms when fingers slip under the hem of his night shirt, and splay out over the small of his back as he begins to layer.
Sehun fixes Jongin with a stern look. “Sit. Still.”
A one-sided smile sits on Jongin’s face. His eyes hold the slightest hint of sadness in them and Sehun swallows the lump in his throat.
He doesn’t think they could ever go back to what they really had.
Lu Han takes a deep drag on his cigarette. He’s been into these expensive Sampoernas of late, addicted to the thick scent of cloves. Not exactly in line with the fact that he works at the hospital but any way to relieve stress, is good enough for him at this point. It’s also a guilty pleasure. When he’s with Zitao, he’ll smoke the cheap filtered local brand. He’s always secretly enjoyed foreign cigarettes much more though. Maybe he’s really a girl, he surmises to himself with a grin.
He puffs harder, breathing in the smoke through bared teeth. Sometimes he likes to look at his reflection in shop windows, amusing himself with how unattractive he looks while smoking. Lu Han has never fooled himself about that. That and how odd he looks when he laughs, really opens his mouth and loses his shit. Zitao has often told him he has a detachable jaw.
Flicking the cigarette away, Lu Han idly stubs it out on the pavement. He stalks into the supermarket, grabbing a shopping cart for himself. Shifts at the hospital have doubled. A couple of coworkers have taken leave. Off to the Bahamas. Cuba. Mauritius. Lu Han leans on his cart, wheeling it slowly, the sides of his mouth taken a sulky downturn. This time last year, he had plans with Victoria. They were going to request for leave at the same time. Take a couple of weeks off, do a Europe tour. It sounded ideal to Lu Han. They would have done touristy things at day - take loads of pictures in old cathedrals, walk around with French dictionaries in Paris, fuck at night in cramped two star hotel rooms after finishing a bottle of red wine.
Funny how so much had changed in the span of a year.
Scratching idly at his hip where he’d gotten the tattoo three weeks back, Lu Han’s cheeks heat up while he grabs plastic bags in the fruit section.
Today he’d woken up with a massive hangover after yet another Saturday night drinking binge session with Zitao. His head was splitting. He laid in bed for another half hour and idly pulled at his dick. Fumbling for the lotion on the side table, Lu Han pumped some into his hand. Then his eyes shut again and he drew his knees up, creating a tent with his sheets.
He didn’t really have someone in particular when he jerked off. Sometimes he thought of Victoria - her long legs, pretty mouth and the tactile memories of how her small breasts would weigh in his palms when she let him pull her shirt up. That one time when they’d nearly gone at it in the washroom at the staff lounge, his hands frantic under her blue smock while she’d smiled, wicked and knowing, grabbing at his ass to pull him closer.
Other times he thought of the bow of Zitao’s thick upper lip and the couple of times they had fooled around. Zitao had fucked Lu Han once - bent him over the edge of the kitchen counter in Lu Han’s apartment. It had been pretty good; Lu Han was apparently a little too vocal for Zitao’s tastes, his best friend told him with a confident smirk after he’d pulled slowly when they were done. Lu Han had come fast but he was a good sport, letting Zitao fuck him long after he came down from his high.
“You’re such a screamer.”
Lu Han swatted at his friend’s shoulder before limping slightly into his bathroom. “Fuck you.”
Today, no matter how hard Lu Han tried to focus on Zitao or Victoria, it wasn’t working. His thoughts, as they had been wont to do of late, flitted immediately to sleepy expressive eyes and a small pink mouth. Sehun was so pretty. Lu Han had seen him once again after the sitting for his tattoo. The boy was quiet, shy and passive - but there was something which drew Lu Han to him.
He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Not again, he mentally chided himself, but honestly it would have to do. He already had a slicked finger circling his asshole. How would Sehun look while he fingered himself? Would he do it in the shower, under the spray of water, reaching behind himself as he spread his legs? Thoughts filled Lu Han’s mind - dirty, illicit, thrilling. Sehun was taken but what harm did a little secret fantasizing do anyway? His stylist wore a calm mask of his usual chronic stoicism but there were times when he would laugh hard and Sehun’s eyes would upturn into happy crescents of genuine joy. Lu Han wondered how Sehun would look underneath him, flushed and panting, legs spread as far as he could, begging for more.
The idea of wrecking Sehun completely - yes, it was hot, Lu Han shamefully admitted that much. He fucked himself with two fingers, cupping his balls a bit before pulling at his dick. The small of his back was wet from sweat. Lu han pulled out his fingers to rest them on his underbelly, gaze going slack as he spilled, imagining his fingers to be the hot wet warmth of Sehun’s mouth instead. He laid in bed for a few more minutes, reaching up only to squeeze some hand sanitizer on his palm, rubbing the cool liquid all over his hands. Then he pulled his blinds up. The sky was clear today, Lu Han noticed as he pulled out a clove cigarette idly from a newly opened pack with his teeth. He took a deep drag, and exhaled, the weight of his loneliness crashing down on him while he watched a couple kiss on the side walk below.
Lu Han rubs his face tiredly. He stands in the Express checkout lane and unloads his groceries. How much of a social life did he lack that he was down to fantasizing about his stylist of all people seriously?
v.
Books are strewn around everywhere. Big cardboard boxes filled with household items stand around in random places. Sehun’s apartment looks like a mess. A bare mess. Lu Han raises an eyebrow as he takes off his shoes. He’s here for his second tattoo.
“Are you guys moving?”
Sehun scratches the back of his neck, a nervous habit Lu Han’s learned to recognize. “Yeah, kind of.” He eyes Lu Han with silent trepidation, looking like there’s a great deal he wants to say and it’s on the tip of his tongue. Like he’s waiting for a cue to explode. It’s a long silence that stretches between them, an awkward one as well. His shoulders slump before he blurts out -“it’s a long story.”
It hits Lu Han then. “Ah,” he says, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
Sehun laughs and shakes his head. “You can’t magically guess I’ve broken up with Jongin and I’m the only one moving out, Lu Han. It’s fine.”
Lu Han nods, shoving his hands into his denims. He’s avoided looking directly into Sehun’s face, but now concern overrides caution and he draws closer, placing a gentle hand on the other man’s arm. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“Yeah, I’m going back to my mom’s.” His mouth has drawn into a thin tight line.
Lu Han nods, feeling sympathetic. “Hang in there,” he says quietly. “I know what it’s like, I’ve been there myself.”
Awkwardness accompanies this sitting. Lu Han shivers when Sehun’s cool fingers expertly spread Vaseline on his hip. He fervently hopes he won’t spring a boner. Wanking to the other man means he’s coming up with a whole bunch of other visuals for Sehun’s slender fingers, each succeeding one more erotic than the previous.
“How’s work?”
Lu Han’s eyes snap open. He’s already numb from pain. Sehun isn’t looking at him, eyes still trained on his skin, as he grabs for another paper towel to dab away at the ink. It’s an absent-minded question.
“Alright,” he replies, breathing a bit shaky. “I’m busy these days. Don’t have time to breathe.”
“That makes two of us,” Sehun says with a little sigh.
“How are you?” Lu Han asks softly.
A sad little smile flirts on the corners of Sehun’s mouth. “I’ve had better days,” he says, sucking his cheeks in. “Much better days.”
Emboldened, Lu Han presses further. “What happened?”
Sehun evades the question. He continues inking for the next ten minutes, mouth pursed in complete concentration.
When they’re done, Lu Han checks himself out in the mirror as always. “I love it. Like always.”
Sehun gathers the mess of towels on the floor and chucks them into a wastepaper bin. He counts the wad of bills Lu Han presses in his hand. His eyes narrow.
“This is more than I asked for,” he says sharply.
“It’s fine,” Lu Han says. Maybe that was overly presumptuous of him.
Conflict arises in Sehun’s eyes. He takes a deep breath before nodding and stuffing the cash into his pocket. “Thank you.”
Lu Han shrugs. “No problem.”
“He cheated on me.”
Sehun watches with wry amusement as Lu Han’s face pales. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I knew he was, for a long time now. I just decided it was time to do something about it. Be proactive, move on, all that jazz.”
Maybe it’s stupid impulse, but Lu Han moves in quickly, wrapping his arms tight around Sehun’s waist. He feels more than sees Sehun startle but holds him closer, rubbing a soothing hand against the small of Sehun’s back through the white muscle tee he’s wearing.
Sounds of sniffling fill the silence of Sehun’s studio.
“It’s not him,” says Sehun, eyes glassy. “It’s everything else.”
Lu Han wishes he could kiss him more than anything right now. He stifles the urge, opts for merely holding Sehun close right now, wondering if he could punch the living daylights out of Jongin and get away with doing it.
vi.
“Of all people,” Sehun said. “Of all fucking times.”
His breathing was harsh, his words more so. Jongin flinched but held his stance, bracing himself for a punch.
“I’m sorry,” said Jongin.
“It doesn’t change a single thing now, does it?” Sehun laughed, sardonic. “Come on, did you think I didn’t know why you were out all the fucking time way past the dance studio’s closing times? Sore back my ass. Sore from how often he bent you over maybe?”
Jongin’s mouth opened and closed. He said nothing, looking sad and tired. Sehun felt much the same except for the anger. It was a heady feeling, being angry and knowing how to vocalize it for once. For once, Sehun could pinpoint the source of his disappointment, and actually feel pretty justified. His anxiety got too into the way otherwise, and that was something Ilsung had told him long back.
Why do you never really say what you feel, Sehun?
“I smelled him on you,” Sehun said. “That’s it. You do realize that, don’t you? We’re done.”
Jongin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “What-“ he said, looking exhausted. “-are we going to do?”
Sehun stuffed his hands into his pockets, nails cutting into his palms. “I’ve already talked to my mother. I need some time to shift all my shit to my place.”
“Please-“
“No, we can’t work this out,” Sehun said. “We’re not friends, Jongin. Not anymore. Friends don’t do this to each other. Fuck you.”
He stormed into his studio, staring at the room with a single despairing glance. All the equipment would have to be moved soon. He had to sell some of it.
This was going to be a mess.
vii.
“Just water for me.”
“What do you mean, we’re all drinking,” Zitao deadpans, smiling at him. Lu Han nods beside him. “It’s fine, it’s on me this time! Can we all get some Dolcetto-“
Sehun pulls his beanie down further over his head, feeling out of place. Why had he agreed to this again? He’s at an Italian restaurant with Zitao and Lu Han.
“Why didn’t you get us Pinot Grigio instead?” Lu Han complains, fixing Zitao with a fondly exasperated look. “I prefer it more with the antipasto-“
“I detest white wine, don’t really know how you can stand to even-“
“Are we really going to have a white versus red debate again-“
“Normal people have antipasto with white wine, you know-“
“Are you classifying yourself as normal, Lu Han, because really-“
Sehun bites on the inside of his cheek. He enjoys their good-natured banter, though right now it also takes him back down memory lane. Jongin, Chanyeol and Sehun - they’d always been a trio all the way from high school till-
Not now. Not now with Lu Han and Zitao around him.
He’s been hanging out with Lu Han even more these days. Sehun finished Lu Han’s last piece. It was a cute tattoo of puppy paw prints starting from the ankle all the way up his right calf and ending on the back of Lu Han’s knee. After that, Lu Han put forward the timid suggestion of catching a movie together maybe? Sehun had moved into his mother’s place and he was talking to Ilsung again. It had been an uncomfortable phone call but Ilsung finally deigned to speak to him. Fifteen minutes in, and they were both awkward teary messes, exchanging confessions of regret about not keeping in touch. An hour in, and Sehun was making promises to visit his sister-in-law and niece soon. Two hours later, Sehun hung up, dazed by all the information he’d just taken in. His mother had slapped his head and fondly called him a fool. She was tired and old but glad for Sehun’s presence in the house again to keep her from being tired, old and lonely.
After the movie, Sehun reluctantly accepted Lu Han’s offer of fast food. They popped into a McDonald’s on the way, and pretty soon Sehun relaxed, smiling and laughing more, as he picked out pieces of greasy lettuce from his chicken sandwich.
“Let’s play a game,” Lu Han said, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “You ask me one question, I ask you another. No holds barred. We ask anything.”
Sehun hesitated, and took a sip from his Coke. “Sure,” he said slowly.
“I’ll start.”
“Okay.”
“What’s the most embarrassing thing you ever did?”
“The first time I fucked up an inverted bob when I was working at the salon,” Sehun said easily. Lu Han looked confused.
“What’s an inverted bob and how do you fuck that up?”
Sehun wanted so badly to giggle but he didn’t. Lu Han was so cute and earnest, with his wide eyes and small pretty face. He also had nice veiny hands that Sehun would keep looking at from time to time.
“It’s a hairstyle for adult women,” Sehun explained. “You cut the hair short at the back, layer it up a bit and leave the ends longer.”
“Oh right, I do know what you’re talking about.”
“Right so, I didn’t know what I was doing at all. I just went with lengths and what I knew. That client was a regular. She wasn’t happy at all and my manager gave me an earful after she left in front of all the other stylists. Needless to say, I was very mortified. Okay now it’s my turn.”
Lu han grinned. “Shoot.”
“Do you find me attractive?”
“… yes.”
Sehun swallowed. “Your turn,” he said quietly.
“Why do you always wear a beanie?”
Lu Han couldn’t deny it; he’d been really curious about that for a long time.
“Well,” Sehun said, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich, but still kept his eyes on Lu Han, tone level. “I can’t tell you. That’s something I’d need to … show you. Not everyone knows why.”
“I’d like to know.”
Sehun sighed. “Okay,” he mumbled. “I’ll show you.”
“Cool.”
“My turn. What are your hobbies?”
“I love soccer,” Lu Han confessed. He licked his fingers clean, not caring if the action came across as lewd or whatever. Sehun didn’t seem to care anyway. Their knees were brushing under the table. “Also learning languages. And eating out with friends. I want to travel a lot more too.”
They kept up the exchange of questions, till they were both done the fries between them. The last long fry had them both staring at it until Sehun picked it up and threw the salty thing at Lu Han’s cheek. Lu Han made a face but they both ended up laughing at each other. It felt good, being stupid and carefree for once.
Sehun took Lu Han to the park he used to play in, with Ilsung as a child. They sat on the old swings, moving back and forth gently in the sand.
“D-do you want to see?” Sehun asked, soft and hesitant.
“Yes,” Lu Han said, surprised that Sehun really wanted to show him.
Lu Han had no idea what the hell was there to see. Some weird hair condition Sehun had? Some massive skin discoloration or scar from a trauma inflicted when he was younger? His mind raced through all the medical possibilities, like he’d already done so before.
Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the thick black hair spilling onto Sehun’s forehead. His mouth fell open as he saw the strands literally colour-shifting, from a pale pink to a bright red and then a soft coral.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Sehun laughed. The sound of it was bitter and harsh. “I know right.”
“Your hair,” Lu Han said, with silent disbelief. “How the fuck is your hair doing that?”
“I don’t know what the condition is,” Sehun said, handing his head. “It’s just like. Mood hair, I guess? My mom says it seems to change consistently with my emotions.”
Lu Han got up. He reached out, weaving his fingers through the strands, lifting them and watching the way they shifted naturally. This was so fascinating but also horrifyingly real.
“Shit,” Lu Han said. “Have you never thought to take a sample to a family doctor? Get it examined by a lab?”
“No. My dad was a doctor, and honestly, I have no intention of turning into a lab rat.”
“Wow.” Lu Han sat back heavily on his swing. The metal chains made clanging sounds as he moved, dumbfounded by Sehun’s revelation. “I don’t know what to say. Fuck. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like that before. What did Jongin think of it?”
A fond smile spread on Sehun’s face. “He was really good about it,” he said softly. “So was my other best friend, Chanyeol. Well. They were. Not anymore.”
“What happened with you and Jongin, Sehun?” Lu Han was careful to sound as gentle and non-intrusive as possible.
Sehun shook his head. “Forget it,” he mumbles.
That was a cue to change the subject. Lu Han quickly did so, and soon they were laughing at each other again, flirting playfully but still careful.
They dump a passed out Zitao in the cab Lu Han hails first. Then Sehun squeezes in, and so does Lu Han. They’re all drunk and Sehun is humming an old poppy track under his breath. Lu Han smiles and rests his head on Sehun’s shoulder. It sounds like BoA.
Sehun smells like soap, strongly scented fruity shampoo and something else that is pretty much him, Lu Han thinks, sniffing at the hollow of Sehun’s neck. He presses a kiss there, and looks up, wondering if that was going too far.
They stare at each other, Sehun looking like he’s not breathing. Then he leans in, and they’re kissing, Lu Han realizes dazedly. He cups Sehun’s jaw in one hand, and brings him closer, expertly licking into the younger boy’s mouth. Sehun makes a needy sound in his throat and opens up under Lu Han immediately.
When they part, Sehun’s eyes are dark and desperate.
“Fuck me,” he says, his voice barely heard, but Lu Han is listening, and oh god, when Sehun’s hand reaches between Lu Han’s pants and squeezes his erection into a half-hard state and then Lu Han really wants as well-
They hold Zitao up, throwing his arms around their necks. Sehun waits patiently, as Lu Han unlocks the front door with shaky fingers. They stumble in, and Lu Han flicks the light switch on.
“Here, dump him here,” Lu Han says, distracted and together they dump him on the couch.
They’re on each other in the next second. Sehun has to bend down to kiss Lu Han, and he cups his face in his hands, needy and clingy. Lu Han returns the kiss with as much fervor he can muster, hands coming to a close around Sehun’s tiny waist.
“Where’s your room-“
“Here, this way, shit-“
Lu Han keeps his mouth on Sehun’s the whole time, on their way to his bedroom, walking Sehun slowly backwards. He’s already got his fingers under the white dress shirt Sehun called him up and asked about regarding the dress code for the restaurant they were at earlier.
“I hate Italian food,” Sehun says with vehemence, when Lu Han pushes him back on his bed. His breathing is heavy, and the alcohol coupled with their kisses has given Sehun a pretty blush. The beanie he was wearing earlier is on the floor. His hair is a vivid scarlet and Lu Han can’t stop staring. He thinks it’s the loveliest sight he’s ever seen, and can’t stop drinking in the sight of Sehun’s hair spilled onto his white bed sheets.
“I hate that you’re so dressed right now,” Lu Han says, with a cheeky grin, unbuttoning his dress shirt rapidly. Sehun leans back, biting on his lip. He spreads his legs and Lu Han is dizzy just from watching Sehun slowly undo his own dress shirt.
“Please,” Sehun sighs. “I need you right now, Lu Han.”
“I know,” Lu Han says. He presses a few more kisses to Sehun’s upturned face, on his mouth and nose and flushed cheeks. Turning to his side table, Lu Han yanks his drawer open for a condom and a whole bunch of little lube packets.
When Lu Han starts fingering him, Sehun bucks his hips up, greedy for more. He’s eager to take it in, and Lu Han notices because he adds in another finger soon with a grin. Heat flares up Sehun’s spine and he leans up on his elbows, taking Lu Han’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucking hard.
“More,” Sehun whispers. “Now.”
“Now what?” Lu Han looks so good, Sehun thinks absently. His hair is mussed up, but Lu Han’s eyes are serious and playful at the same time.
“Now, Lu Han,” Sehun all but whines. “I need you to fuck me-“
He cuts off with a gasp when Lu Han slides into him. The sensation makes his head swim and Sehun takes a couple of deep breaths, burying his face in Lu Han’s neck.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Sehun grunts. “Just give me a few seconds to adjust.”
“Sehun.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Let’s do it like this-“
They re-adjust, Lu Han propped up on pillows so Sehun can sit on his dick. He does so with a cry and whines for more, as he attempts to balance and fuck himself on Lu Han’s cock. Lu Han fucks him with slower thrusts, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he languidly watches emotions play on Sehun’s face.
“Lu Han,” Sehun sighs.
They flip, and the minute Sehun’s back hits sheets again, Lu Han is thrusting harder into him, fast and rough, each time hitting his prostate and making Sehun scream. The bed posts hit the wall. Lu han’s mouth is hanging on, as he goes fast, hips moving so fast-
Sehun’s throat has gone dry from so much screaming. He’s busy fisting his own dick, giving it fast tugs. Lu Han thrusts in quickly, giving him no time to recover, and it’s like he’s on a continuous pleasure high from the quick pacing. He clenches around Lu Han’s cock when he comes, spilling his load all over tummy and hand. Lu Han comes soon after, Sehun clenching around him involuntarily.
When Lu Han slows down, and eventually pulls out, he notices Sehun staring at him with a mixture of conflict and longing on his face.
“I can’t do this,” Sehun says. He buries his face in a pillow. “God, this was the worst. I just treated you like a rebound and I-“
Lu Han panics but lies down beside Sehun, placing a hesitant hand on his waist. “Sehun, we talked and it’s not like-“
“Chanyeol.”
And Lu Han freezes.
“What?”
“Chanyeol,” Sehun repeats, and pulls his hands away from his face, eyes wet and face damp. He stares at Lu Han. “Jongin. He cheated on me with Chanyeol.”
Lu Han recoils.
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Sehun says. “I mean. I didn’t give a shit about him cheating, our relationship was going to the shitter. I had no time for him, he had no time for me, it was a two way thing. But then, one day I was colouring Chanyeol’s hair, and before I started, I caught the same fucking scent of aftershave lotion on him.”
He gets up, wrapping arms around himself and shivers. “I don’t know,” Sehun says, sounding wretched. “It’s a mess. He was a boy I loved. My mother says he ruined my life. So does Ilsung. But he was there for me when I needed him and so was Chanyeol. I don’t know.”
“Where does that leave us?” Lu Han asks. He glances at his watch. God, he’s tired and filthy and really needs to shower. He was also hoping they could cuddle but, his heart aches at the sight of Sehun, knees drawn up to his chest, his strands a faint shade of lavender now. The colours are unnerving and out of place but pretty, much like Sehun.
Sehun looks up. He runs a hand through his hair and offers Lu Han a watery smile. “I need some time,” he says, timid and afraid. “I still want, but. I’m so sorry, I need time to sort things out.”
Lu Han sighs, but pulls him in close, placing a skinny arm on Sehun’s broad shoulders. He pushes Sehun’s head to rest on his shoulder, and watches in fascination as the lavender morphs into an interesting fuchsia. He could never get tired of watching this.
“Take as much time as you need,” Lu Han mumbles, his voice in Sehun’s hair. He presses a kiss to his temples and tries to quell his disappointment as much as possible. “You have my number,” he says, hopefully. “You’ll call me, won’t you?”
Sehun nods, and then Lu Han is left alone, while the shower spray turns on. He pads out into the living room and smiles at the sight of Zitao still fast asleep, mouth unattractively wide open. His shirt is riding up and one hand is dangling off Lu Han’s couch.
He hopes and prays and wishes that Sehun will call him.
viii.
This is a pretty posh place, Lu Han muses to himself, taking in the sparkling mirrors and stylists bustling around with full faces of makeup. Not a place he’d expected Sehun to work at. Then again, he supposes things change.
“Lu Han?”
He jumps up. Lu Han’s eyes widen. He smiles, taking in that familiar face - the same sharp jawline, sleepy eyes and pretty pink mouth. Some things have definitely changed. Sehun’s hair is now bleached and dyed a million different shades. If Lu Han looks really hard, he can catch the subtle shift of colours beneath the dye.
“I was told,” Sehun says, a smile playing on his lips. “That you asked specifically for me.”
“Yes,” Lu Han says. “My hair’s gotten really thick. I need a buzzcut.”
Sehun pulls on his lower lip with his teeth. Lu Han drops his gaze to Sehun’s mouth. It does not go unnoticed because Sehun’s lips quirk up into a pleased little smirk.
He follows Sehun into the salon, and sits in one of the chairs. Sehun busies himself at his work station. “What do you want?”
“What do you suggest?”
Lu Han gets a wide smile in return. “Did anyone tell you indecision is not attractive?” Sehun says casually, resting his weight on one side, giving his hair an appraising look.
“I can do a four on the sides and back,” Sehun says, holding up a comb. “We can keep it long on top. Scissors?”
“Sure,” Lu Han jokes. “You’re the stylist. You know what’s best, don’t you?”
Sehun snorts, grabbing his buzzer. “All my clients say that first, then they complain after. Fine, I’ll start with a four. If you’re not happy, we can go shorter with a three. I can always go shorter anyway.”
He works quickly. Hair falls on the floor fast. Sehun’s fingers are cool, comforting and familiar on the back of Lu Han’s nape. He has to suppress a shiver at the familiar touch. Something about the way Sehun’s fingers feel on his skin always makes his breath catch in his throat.
“We’re done this bit,” Sehun mumbles under his breath. He looks up and their eyes meeth in the mirror. It is Lu Han’s turn to smile cheekily when Sehun looks away first, a blush climbing up his cheeks and throat.
Sehun grabs the water bottle from his station. He sprays water on his palm and runs his fingers through the thick hair on top, licking his lips. Lu Han closes his eyes. There’s something different. Sehun takes his time, combing through the strands with his fingers and everything about it is intimate.
“How’s work?”
“I’m still busy,” Lu Han says. His eyes are still closed, but he can hear the smile in Sehun’s voice more than anything.
“That makes two of us.”
“So I can’t get you a coffee once this shift is done?” Lu Han bites on his lip, tense and expectant.
Silence.
The press of lips on his cheek is fleeting but definitely not something Lu Han imagined. Then Sehun’s back to work on his fauxhawk again, taking hair to the side and between his fingers, snipping and layering.
“I want a Starbucks iced latte.”
Lu Han grins.
“Okay.”
A/N: *Quote from Baudelaire, a famous French poet.
oh dear god, thank you so much for reading through this entire word vomit. i hope this is to your liking, bluedveins! ♥