there was a boy for bluedveins 1/2
Title: there was a boy
For: bluedveins
Pairing: Sehun/Lu Han (endgame), Sehun/Kai, (implied past Lu Han/Victoria)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 11, 220 words
Summary: The colours are unnerving and out of place but pretty, much like Sehun.
Warnings: infidelity, social anxiety.
I’ll hide you away from the world you rejected
I’ll hide you
hide u, kosheen
i.
“You should get a tattoo.”
Zitao has suggested it before but he brings it up again when they’re at a grill house, stuffing their faces with Korean barbecue. Lu Han broke up with his girlfriend, Victoria Song, who worked in the Neurology unit two floors above him.
If anything, he’d thought his love life was finally going somewhere. They had been going strong for two years. Victoria was funny, smart and maybe she was older than him but Lu Han thought the age difference of all of four years didn’t really factor into anything. Apparently it did though because last week, he was staring at the soccer match airing on TV with red-rimmed eyes while Victoria packed clothes, pumps and the rest of her life away into three garishly orange suitcases.
Before Victoria, it had just been a lot of casual hookups with men and women.
“Should I?” Lu Han muses, watching flames jump up as he moves pieces of boneless galbi around on the grill. “Not gonna lie. I’ve been thinking about it more seriously.”
Zitao grins, dropping sausages into the grill. “Wait,” Lu Han complains, moving his beef away. “Let me finish grilling these.”
“You better not feed me uncooked beef,” Zitao says seriously. The silver rim of his Rolex glints in the dim light. “I hate it when you do that.”
“I always cook the meat properly,” Lu Han protests.
“You don’t. The meat’s always hard. Okay, we’re gonna get some soju. My treat.”
Lu Han rubs at his face with the heel of his palm. “Okay.” He nods, and Zitao lets out a victorious whoop, hailing a waiter down. Exhaustion literally drips off him in waves. Today had been an extra long and gruelling shift, what with him getting into an argument with Minseok, the head nurse of the Pediatrics unit which was the department Lu Han was under.
Minseok was a nice guy. Lu Han really looked up to and respected his senior but a snippy comment concerning how he always took his entire lunch hour was entirely unwarranted for. There was a limit to how much hospitals were allowed to overwork you. He literally lives in his blue smocks these days.
Sometimes he really wanted to rewind back to undergrad and start all over again. Maybe take an easier, less draining line of work. Then again, what was less draining and paid just as well? Zitao had slept throughout his entire Human Resources major but he wasn’t complaining about the fat pay cheques coming in every month from the airlines company he was the HR manager of.
“Can we get two bottles of soju, a can of Pepsi and some lemon?”
“Two?” Lu Han groans and puts his head in his hands. “I’m not sure this is a great idea man. I have an early morning shift tomorrow.”
“Pop some painkillers, you’ll be fine.” Zitao dismisses him promptly, a benign smile on his face that is enough warning for Lu Han.
He knows Zitao isn’t planning to stop at just two bottles.
Halfway through their second bottle, their cheeks have gotten redder and Lu Han is doing most of the meat-grilling while Zitao giggles and attempts to stab at a piece of chicken with his chopsticks.
“So about the tattoo,” Lu Han starts.
Zitao stretches, muscles rippling under the long black tee he is wearing. “Right,” he says. “You sure about that then?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han says. “I mean, I know what I’m gonna get.”
“Cool, I have a guy in mind who can do it for you,” Zitao beams at him. He makes a face when Lu Han puts pieces of burned sausage in his plate. “What the fuck, Lu Han? Either you undercook or overcook everything.”
“Fuck off, then you stop finishing off all the soju while I do all the grilling here,” Lu Han retorts and hands his phone over to Zitao. “Enter his contact information in, I’ll give him a call right now.”
“Easy there, tiger,” Zitao teases. “He’s not gonna do it for you now when you’re sloshed, Luzi. Sehun works at his home. He also does cut and colour, just so you know.”
“Wow, what is he, like a jack of all trades or something?”
“I guess you could call him that. Very quiet and intense kid, lives with his boyfriend. But he’s excellent, I found him through Yixing.”
“How does Yixing know them?”
“Sehun’s boyfriend and Yixing are colleagues at the dance studio. That place Yixing is part-time at.”
“Oh, he’s gay? Cool.”
“Yeah.”
He circles around, searching for a parking lot. Lu Han curses under his breath. This guy lives in essentially what is a cramped neighbourhood. Low-rise apartment buildings sit next to each other like matchboxes and there is no space to park.
Eventually, Lu Han ends up sandwiched between a large van and someone’s Toyota that looks like it hasn’t had a car wash in seven years. He sticks both hands into the side pockets of his khaki shorts and takes a couple of deep nervous breaths.
Zitao offered to come with him but Lu Han turned him down, not wanting to seem like too much of a wuss. Sure, it was going to hurt like hell but he could take the pain for that time period. The excitement is also there, sitting uneasily in his gut. This is his first time doing anything to his body.
Sehun sounded baby-voiced on the phone and he’d kept their conversation to a minimum, merely providing him with location details. After mumbling that they could discuss the rest of the details when Lu Han got there, he’d quickly hung up.
Lu Han isn’t sure what to make of him just yet or what to expect in person either. Maybe short in terms of stature and plenty of piercings on his face? Possibly so.
He presses the door bell twice and waits. Lu Han looks around. It’s dimly lit in the corridor. Sehun resides on the fourth floor and there is no sign outside to suggest he’s a stylist cum piercing/tattoo artist. Nothing fancy at all. For someone with a huge clientele, Sehun sure doesn’t seem keen on advertising.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Lu Han says, feeling just a bit awkward. “I’m Lu Han, we spoke on the phone earlier--”
Sehun promptly cuts him off with a nod. “Come on in.”
Lu Han’s fists clench and unclench in his side pockets as he follows and toes his shoes off, while Sehun shuts the door behind him with a quiet click. Sehun is definitely not short at all. In fact, he is almost a head taller, looking extremely skinny in a pink muscle tee and tight green denims. His face is not full of piercings either, but he has a septum piercing with purple barbell and a piercing below his bottom lip. Lu Han wonders why he’s wearing such a huge beanie with his hair pushed under. It’s ridiculously hot these days, even indoors.
“My boyfriend’s at work, so we can head on into the living room,” Sehun says softly.
Lu Han nods.
The living room is small. It houses a large black leather couch and glass teapoy. Tons of fashion magazines are strewn around untidily and Lu Han picks them up, not registering any of the names before he recognizes them to be for the industry.
“They’re not useful,” Sehun says, a small smile curling on his lips.
“Seriously?”
A small shrug of broad shoulders and Sehun settles down beside him. “Not really,” he admits. “Other than the latest model of shears or buzzers, but there are never any interesting tips for new updo trends or whatever. Details concern me like they should anyone else.” He cuts off, cheeks flushing a bit when he realizes he’s been rambling.
“Anyway, so. About your tattoos.”
“I wanted three.”
Sehun’s brows furrow. “Then you’re looking at three sittings. Depending on the sizes, maybe more.”
“I don’t think so? Two are text, the third I want on my right calf.”
Lu Han fishes around in his pocket and hands over a piece of paper. Sehun takes it and studies them carefully for a few moments.
“What does the French mean?”
His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. Lu Han does not answer immediately.
“I can’t do it unless you tell me what it means,” Sehun says. “I’d like to know what my clients want to get before I ink it in.”
"Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas,"* Lu Han says slowly, more to himself. “It seems to be I will always be happy in the place where I am not.”
There is a pregnant pauses before Sehun smiles his approval. “Which one do you want first? This one or-” Sehun has to fight to keep his face blank but Lu Han notices his amusement. “-the “Karma’s a bitch” text?”
“I want this one first.”
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
Sehun takes him to the back of his apartment where he’s got his little studio set up. Lu Han doesn’t miss the work station and mirror either in the other room.
“How much time will this take?”
“About three hours maybe,” Sehun mumbles, taking out some contact paper. “None of your pieces are intricately detailed or complicated so it won’t take me very long. Any further questions for now? I’m just going to make a stencil and then we’ll get started.”
Lu Han bites down on his lip. Sehun looks up from his desk, where he’s already getting ready with a pen.
“Yeah,” Lu Han says. “Can I play music while you’re doing it?”
Sehun blinks. “Yes, of course.”
They discuss payment while Sehun works on his stencil for the text piece.
After Sehun is satisfied with his cursive, he motions for Lu Han to take his shirt off.
“Hah.” Lu Han’s hand flies to his mouth as he attempts in vain to stifle his giggles as Sehun applies a light layer of Vaseline to his side. He’s rather ticklish there.
Then Sehun places the stencil on Lu Han’s side, peeling it off. “Check the placement,” he says quietly. “Is it good?”
Lu Han flashes him a thumbs up.
“Okay,” Sehun says. “Lie down on your side. We’ll get started now.”
He pulls on a pair of white latex gloves and grabs a pot of ink. Probably enough, Sehun muses. A quick glance at the clock overhead tells him it’s 2 PM.
Jongin will be back in another hour or two.
Sehun grabs a roll of medical tape from his cupboard and cuts off two small strips before doubling them up on the armature bar of his tattoo machine. Then he takes out one of his needles, newly sterilized and slides it into the tube.
He’s given up on using rubber grommets to hold the eye loop of his needles steady over the years he’s been tattooing people. It tends to make the needle jump around too much in the machine anyway. More vibrations are better to absorb the shock, a lot of Jongin’s friends have told him, especially a very close friend, Chanyeol, but Sehun discounts that, opting for more precise quality output. It might be more old school but the tape works for him better and gives a solid hold.
“We’re ready to go?” He asks Lu Han who’s already got his eyes shut tightly. Cute, Sehun thinks before checking himself. Lu Han is handsome and pretty at the same time, something Sehun hasn’t failed to notice ever since his client walked in. He has thick lashes, clear skin, a bad caramel dye job and nice thick calves. Sehun licks his lips.
Probably plays soccer a lot in his spare time. On the whole, Lu Han looks like someone who’s doing pretty well for himself.
“Yeah.”
“I need you to calm down,” Sehun says. “Remember the pain is minuscule compared to what you’re probably imagining it to be. We’re going to be done before you know it.”
Lu Han takes a deep shuddering breath and presses the play button on his phone. Classical music floods the studio.
Eventually Lu Han relaxes and Sehun gets to work. He loses himself in the vibrations and dabs away at the skin with paper towels, tossing them on the floor, as he licks his lips constantly, engrossed in the work.
Sehun never was very good at school but he always enjoyed Visual Arts class most. That, and one the Cosmetology class he could take. He remembers being the only guy in his class. Drawing, inking, piercing, cutting - he’s always been rather good with his hands. It was one of the first things Jongin told him when they started dating.
“You have beautiful fingers.”
They were long and slender, and indeed, Sehun was proud of them. At least it was one thing about himself that he liked besides all the piercings and tattoos he had.
Otherwise, he was a freak as far as society was concerned.
“We’re done,” Sehun says. “You can sit up now.” Lu Han lets out a sigh of relief as he obeys Sehun, stretching his arms a bit. He’s gone practically numb from all the pain. Sehun dabs away at his skin, eyes intent, removing the mess of ink and blood. Lu Han watches him work in silence, applying gel all over the tattoo. His skin there is slightly pink.
“I really like it,” Lu Han says, checking himself out in the mirror. He takes a picture of himself shirtless with his phone, sending it to Zitao immediately. Sehun averts his eyes, trying not to stare. Throughout the session, Lu Han’s shorts rode low on his hips and Sehun could see the waistband of his boxers, acutely aware of the thin trail of hair leading from his navel.
Lu Han has a really nice body.
“It’s great, thanks. Your cursive is so elegant and pretty.”
He doesn’t miss the way Sehun blushes with obvious pleasure and mumbles a shy “you’re welcome” before handing him a sheet of aftercare instructions and what to buy from the pharmacy later.
“Just follow the sheet and you’ll be fine. Of course, you can always call me if you have any questions.”
“Sounds good.” Lu Han stuffs the paper into the right side pocket of his shorts. “Also, I’ll probably call you later for my hair.”
Sehun nods. He checks his phone planner where he has all his appointments recorded. “We can do the next piece in two weeks, if you’d like.”
“That works.”
“Okay.”
They walk out together in the hallway, Sehun counting out the cash Lu Han gave him before stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans. Lu Han eyes the swell of his ass in those green denims. Sehun is attractive. He shakes himself mentally. This was ridiculous. He was checking out someone who was taken when he’d just had a messy breakup.
Lu Han hesitates, as he toes his shoes back on. “I was thinking of bleaching by the way. What do you think?”
Sehun’s eyes widen. “That will take a lot out of your hair.” He reaches and pets Lu Han’s hair, feeling the texture, his cool fingers making Lu Han want to lean further into his touch. “I can get rid of this caramel though. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Aw really?” Lu Han pouts. “I was thinking maybe I could shock people at work.”
Sehun laughs. “Well, first what you need is a hair cut. When you’re here next time I’ll fix your hair up and then-” he licks his lips again, Lu Han’s eyes lingering on the pink of Sehun’s tongue.
The front door clicks open. A guy with lightly tanned skin lets himself in. He looks up, noticing Lu Han and gives Sehun a raised eyebrow.
“Hey.”
Sehun shifts, slightly uncomfortable. “Lu Han, this is my boyfriend, Jongin. Jongin, this is Lu Han. He was referred to me through Yixing.”
Jongin’s apparent irritation at finding a client still home melts away into a warm smile. “Oh hey, right, Lu Han.” He holds out a hand and Lu Han takes it. “Yeah, Yixing has mentioned you a couple of times. You’re a nurse, right?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han says. “I hear you teach dance.”
“Yeah, I teach kids contemporary. So nursing. How’s that like?”
“It can get rather hectic. Sometimes I’m called in on Saturdays too.”
Jongin shifts his weight on one foot, resting an arm on Sehun’s shoulder as he toes off his shoes. He winces. “Ow, my feet are killing me. Yeah, Yixing was telling me something about your girlfriend. I heard through the grapevine about plans for nuptials? Are we all getting invited?” He grins.
“Oh, you have a girlfriend?” Sehun asks. He wants to bite down on his tongue the minute he asks it.
Lu Han lets out forced laughter. “You heard right,” he says lightly. “Except we just broke up last week so any plans as such don’t exist anymore.”
Jongin’s face falls. “Ah,” he says. “I’m sorry. I should not have asked.”
“It’s fine,” Lu Han mumbles, wanting to look anywhere except at Sehun’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’ll call you later, Sehun. I have to run now. It was nice meeting you Jongin, bye.”
He rushes out.
Stupid, Lu Han tells himself later when he’s in his car. He hits his steering wheel a couple of times.
He can’t escape Victoria. She’s everywhere.
Jongin pulls off Sehun’s beanie, tossing it on the couch in their living room. Sehun sighs and crawls into his lap, his bangs falling into his face.
“Hey,” Jongin says, softly, and Sehun’s hair turns as pink as his cheeks.
“Hey yourself,” he whispers, and while they kiss, tongues rubbing, some of the strands turn scarlet.
ii.
It started when he was ten. Sehun doesn’t remember the exact date. When, where or how - he had no idea. There were no complications during his delivery, least not any that his mother or the supervising doctor at the time could recall. They proclaimed Sehun Oh a perfectly healthy newborn baby and his parents had been happy.
Ilsung used to take his little brother out for bike rides to the children’s park a few blocks away from their apartment. Their father was a busy man. Having opened his own ENT practice, he spent hours away from the family. Sehun had next to no memories of him when it started.
They used the swings, pushing with their legs, using all the force they had in their skinny limbs to make them go higher. And higher.
Maybe it was then that once, when Ilsung paused to idly watch a hyper five year old Sehun, laughing and screaming at his older brother to catch up already, his breath caught when he saw tangled dark strands shine a stunning molten gold.
“Sehun,” he said, as the gold shifted into a warm reddish orange hue. Ilsung had no idea how long he watched his little brother, feeling almost suspended in that moment of disbelief.
The sun had long set.
They took him out of school. The rest of elementary passed away in an uneventful haze. His mother took to locking the bathroom door behind her while she buzzed his head clean and empty. A blank slate each month. Excuses were made at dentist’s appointments. His father ran frantic searches through medical journals. A strange rare case of albinism? But it was far more abnormal than any of the children with pale skin, thick white hair and eyebrows and light eyes. It was only the hair on his head that suddenly seemed to shift into every shade of colour imaginable. Warm shades with positive moods, cool tones with sadness or boredom. Sehun was shuttled from tutor to tutor to yet another confused tutor who was made to answer to two very overprotective parents.
“Does this mean I’m a freak?” Sehun couldn’t resist asking once, after another session with the buzzer. His hair grew back thick and fast. They had to shave him every three weeks. He hated looking at his reflection in the mirror. Buzz cuts did not suit him to say the very least. His face was too thin and long, not to mention he also had an under bite.
Ilsung held him close. “No,” he said carefully. “Not at all. Think of it this way. It’s pretty cool, don’t you think? No one else in the whole world probably has it.”
So I am a freak. What the hell did mood hair really do for him? It wasn’t even useful in any way. He couldn’t wear his hair in a surfer cut, like all the other boys his age. Instead, he got to be bald.
It sucked, and even Ilsung didn’t sound very convincing because he knew it sucked too.
The day Ilsung moved out for college was also the day Sehun made up his mind. He was left alone to his own devices at home, finishing up History assignments doled out to him by an entirely unenthusiastic tutor. Sehun wasn’t even sure if he was passing or failing. He did know he wasn’t learning anything remotely useful.
His parents and Ilsung were on the road. Sehun had declined the offer to come see Ilsung move into his room on campus. He loved his brother. Ilsung had been nothing but a good doting older brother to him over the years Sehun was stuck at home. The bitterness and resentment however, did build up. Ilsung would probably do a lot of cool things Sehun couldn’t.
He looked up from his homework to see a huge flash of red whir past his eyes.
“Sorry, I think our ball fell in your backyard,” said the other boy, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish look. Sehun pulled his beanie down further, feeling rather self-conscious. He recognized the boy as one of his neighbors in one of the houses overlooking the main road.
“It’s fine. You can come get it,” Sehun said.
“I’m Jongin.” Sehun led the way from the front of his house to their huge backyard. “How come I don’t see you around much?”
“I’m Sehun and yeah, you probabIy don’t because I’m home schooled,” Sehun said, cheeks heating up. He knew the fuzz on his head had probably turned a faint shade of pink too. It always happened when he was mortified or aroused.
“Really?” Jongin’s brows furrowed in interest. Sehun found the ball easily enough. It was buried in the midst of Ilsung’s tomato plants. His older brother was obsessed with growing his own produce. They had tomatoes, cherry tomatoes and a cherry tree. Most of the tomatoes were still unripe green.
“Yeah,” Sehun said. He refused to meet Jongin’s questioning gaze. “My parents just don’t believe in the education system much,” he hastened to add, the same old lie his mother taught him to say over three years coming out rather glib.
“School is something to do though,” Jongin said. “Friends are cool too.”
“I have friends!”
“You should come to high school with me and Chanyeol,” Jongin said, with a wide grin on his face.
“Who’s Chanyeol?”
“My friend. He’s really cool. I think you’ll like him. Want to shoot some hoops with us?”
“I can’t play.”
“Anyone can shoot hoops. Come on-“
Jongin’s tone brooked no leave for argument. Sehun found himself being dragged out of his house in his embarrassing orange pyjamas, his fingers caught tight in Jongin’s hold.
Even then, at their first meeting, Sehun learned he would always have a hard time telling Jongin no to anything, especially when he pouted like that.
“Are you sure-“
“I’m very sure,” Sehun said, taking a deep breath. His father heaved a great sigh, looking at him over the rim of his spectacles as he folded his newspaper over.
“You’ll have to cover your head every day.” His mother’s hands were hesitant, but warm and supportive over the back of his nape. “You have to be very careful, Sehun, especially in high school. Other kids might play pranks. No one knows you. What if someone tugs your beanie off?”
She did have a point. His hair shifted colours at the speed of lightening, never pausing to settle on one shade for more than a millisecond. But Sehun thought of Jongin and Chanyeol. His resolve hardened further.
“It’s fine,” Sehun said. “That will never happen. You’ll see.”
He was right. By some stroke of luck, throughout his four years of high school, it never did happen. His beanie stayed on at all times.
Chanyeol was a tall boy with gangly limbs and smiles too wide. His attitude was generous, his words intensely persuasive. Sehun and Jongin sat with him for lunch. After sophomore year passed, Chanyeol got a secondhand Camaro from his father. He painted it red and for a while, Sehun found his Facebook spammed with pictures of Chanyeol’s new love.
They went for long drives in the weekend to the beach - Sehun and Chanyeol up front while Jongin sprawled out in the back and made himself comfortable with the windows rolled down. Sea breeze ruffled their hair and for once, Sehun could feel it too. He’d told both of them hesitantly when they were in Chanyeol’s room. They were completely sloshed from one too many bottles of soju Chanyeol stole from his noona’s booze stash hidden in her closet.
“So what should we call you now? Parrot Sehun.”
“No,” Jongin said, hiccupping a little. “He’s a bird of paradise.”
Sehun decked Chanyeol for that, who snickered, burying his face in Jongin’s neck. His hair was a mess of curls and Sehun’s fingers itched to whip out a pair of scissors and just trim them down. Except that was the most infuriating thing ever - his best friends never let him touch their hair.
“Well,” Sehun said dryly, but hands still shaking with relief. “I’m glad you guys don’t think I’m too much of a freak or something.”
He still made to pull his beanie back on his head with jerky fingers, still heavily embarrassed, sure they both secretly thought he looked like an ugly overgrown baby. Especially Jongin (and god, he really didn’t want Jongin of all people to think he was ugly, he really didn’t) but-
Jongin brushed his hands away and reached out for him, pulling Sehun close to his side. He kissed the top of Sehun’s head, lips brushing pink fuzz and Sehun blushed harder when their fingers brushed gently then intertwined, almost as if it was the natural thing to do.
“If anyone’s the biggest freak here,” Jongin said, fixing Sehun with a solemn look. The tips of his lips quirked slightly to make for a little smirk. “It’s definitely Chanyeol.”
“Fuckers, see if I sneak soju out for you again-“
But they were all laughing. Chanyeol had a karaoke machine in his basement. They headed down, queued a whole bunch of old Shinhwa songs and took their shirts off while belting out the lyrics to Eusha Eusha. After Chanyeol passed out on the rug, drool trailing down the side of his mouth, Jongin and Sehun cuddled up on a lazy couch.
Sehun sighed when Jongin’s warm mouth pressed firm against his collar bone. He curled a hand in Jongin’s hair, fingers massaging his scalp absently while his best friend sucked on his neck, taking pale skin between his teeth and laving all over with his tongue.
“You really don’t think this is too weird?” Sehun asked, insecure all over again when Jongin looked up, fumbling with the drawstring of Sehun’s pants.
Jongin shook his head. “Dumbass,” he said softly. “If I thought it was weird, would I suck your dick ever though?”
Sehun covered his mouth with the back of his hand, stifling a nervous giggle. It soon turned into a moan as Jongin spread his legs, bent down and took his head into his mouth. It was hot, wet and eager.
They fucked after, next to a passed out Chanyeol. Sehun’s hands uselessly scrabbled for purchase on cool black leather while Jongin drove his hips forward, greedy and quick, fucking Sehun’s thighs. A continuous string of high-pitched moans escaped Sehun, his babyish voice turning breathless as Jongin’s dick brushed the underside of his balls.
“I’m close,” Sehun choked out, sighing when Jongin’s lips brushed the back of his nape. He still felt self-conscious about having his beanie off but Jongin was thrusting between his thighs with a frantic desperation that emboldened him.
Jongin took his ear lobe between his teeth, and bit down lightly. “I’ve always wondered-“ His voice cut off, when Sehun reached behind to tug on Jongin’s hair. “Always wanted-“
You.
His knees buckled when he came, shooting thick ropes of cum all over Chanyeol’s couch. Jongin held him close and somehow Sehun knew it wasn’t premature, not at all, when he tipped his head back, whispered something shyly only for Jongin to hear.
“Me too,” Jongin whispered, with an infectious face-splitting smile which Sehun basked in. It was perfect.
Everything Sehun ever wanted, all he’d hoped and dreamed and wished for, was present in this moment, with Jongin’s arms tight, secure and supportive around him.
“Are you sure?”
Sehun rolled his eyes, while Chanyeol eyed the needle in his hand with trepidation. “Don’t be such a pussy,” Sehun said. Jongin laughed, lighting up the cheap weed he’d placed in the bowl of Sehun’s cotton candy pink pipe. They were at the beach again, and it was already past dusk.
“I’ve done Soojung’s lobes, Jinri’s nose and five hundred other things she wanted. If they’re perfectly fine and look good with it, then I know what I’m doing,” Sehun deadpanned.
“Suck it up if you want to look good,” Jongin advised. “He did my lobes last week.”
“You suck his dick, of course you sucked it up,” Chanyeol retorted but the wave of hysteria in his voice did not go unnoticed.
Jongin raised an eyebrow. Chanyeol folded his arms, a mutinous but mostly uncertain look on his face.
“You’re saving money,” Sehun said with a shrug.
Chanyeol finally relented, letting Sehun clean his ears. He hissed when Sehun held his cartilage firm, eyes screwed tightly shut. If Sehun wasn’t focused on what he was doing, he would have laughed his ass off. Chanyeol looked rather comical.
When Sehun drew the needle in, Jongin let out a whistle. “That’s it,” he said, amused. “That’s literally all it was.” Chanyeol gave him the finger, yelping a little when Sehun slid the piercing in.
“There you go,” Sehun said, with a wry smile. He held up his phone, so Chanyeol could check out his reflection. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it.”
Chanyeol gave him a high five and Sehun smiled again, meeting Jongin’s eyes. They were filled with fond affection and pride, and Sehun felt the same overwhelming feeling of happiness again.
The exact memories of his father’s funeral two months just before Sehun graduated remained a bit fuzzy in his mind. After a rather late diagnosis of colon cancer, his father eventually passed away. Cancer was a nightmare, Sehun told Jongin often. It happened like a nightmare did, oft with no warning, a reality that was too mind-numbing to swell on and a frightening calm descended before the storm was even done.
There were lots of nights spent at the hospital in a flurry of tears, harsh words exchanged between him and Ilsung over the phone, their mother losing life and colour with each passing day. Flash forward to his best friends each holding his hand while Sehun watched with blank eyes as his father’s coffin was slowly, carefully, lowered into the ground.
“He was really proud of you,” Jongin said, quietly, when they were cooped up in his room later, passing a bottle of soju between them. Sehun decided he had no care for greeting any of the relatives he’d never known for his entire life time. Ilsung, ever the more independent and polite older brother was there to fulfil those familial obligations. “It’s too bad he had to go before we graduated.”
Sehun buried his face in Chanyeol’s shoulder and said nothing. He didn’t cry. Never once in his life had Sehun ever cried in front of anyone and he wasn’t about to start now, not even in front of his boyfriend and best friend.
The niggling feeling of guilt, of having caused his father too much stress, perhaps even having driven him to his death was something that stayed with Sehun for the rest of his life.
part two
For: bluedveins
Pairing: Sehun/Lu Han (endgame), Sehun/Kai, (implied past Lu Han/Victoria)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 11, 220 words
Summary: The colours are unnerving and out of place but pretty, much like Sehun.
Warnings: infidelity, social anxiety.
I’ll hide you away from the world you rejected
I’ll hide you
hide u, kosheen
i.
“You should get a tattoo.”
Zitao has suggested it before but he brings it up again when they’re at a grill house, stuffing their faces with Korean barbecue. Lu Han broke up with his girlfriend, Victoria Song, who worked in the Neurology unit two floors above him.
If anything, he’d thought his love life was finally going somewhere. They had been going strong for two years. Victoria was funny, smart and maybe she was older than him but Lu Han thought the age difference of all of four years didn’t really factor into anything. Apparently it did though because last week, he was staring at the soccer match airing on TV with red-rimmed eyes while Victoria packed clothes, pumps and the rest of her life away into three garishly orange suitcases.
Before Victoria, it had just been a lot of casual hookups with men and women.
“Should I?” Lu Han muses, watching flames jump up as he moves pieces of boneless galbi around on the grill. “Not gonna lie. I’ve been thinking about it more seriously.”
Zitao grins, dropping sausages into the grill. “Wait,” Lu Han complains, moving his beef away. “Let me finish grilling these.”
“You better not feed me uncooked beef,” Zitao says seriously. The silver rim of his Rolex glints in the dim light. “I hate it when you do that.”
“I always cook the meat properly,” Lu Han protests.
“You don’t. The meat’s always hard. Okay, we’re gonna get some soju. My treat.”
Lu Han rubs at his face with the heel of his palm. “Okay.” He nods, and Zitao lets out a victorious whoop, hailing a waiter down. Exhaustion literally drips off him in waves. Today had been an extra long and gruelling shift, what with him getting into an argument with Minseok, the head nurse of the Pediatrics unit which was the department Lu Han was under.
Minseok was a nice guy. Lu Han really looked up to and respected his senior but a snippy comment concerning how he always took his entire lunch hour was entirely unwarranted for. There was a limit to how much hospitals were allowed to overwork you. He literally lives in his blue smocks these days.
Sometimes he really wanted to rewind back to undergrad and start all over again. Maybe take an easier, less draining line of work. Then again, what was less draining and paid just as well? Zitao had slept throughout his entire Human Resources major but he wasn’t complaining about the fat pay cheques coming in every month from the airlines company he was the HR manager of.
“Can we get two bottles of soju, a can of Pepsi and some lemon?”
“Two?” Lu Han groans and puts his head in his hands. “I’m not sure this is a great idea man. I have an early morning shift tomorrow.”
“Pop some painkillers, you’ll be fine.” Zitao dismisses him promptly, a benign smile on his face that is enough warning for Lu Han.
He knows Zitao isn’t planning to stop at just two bottles.
Halfway through their second bottle, their cheeks have gotten redder and Lu Han is doing most of the meat-grilling while Zitao giggles and attempts to stab at a piece of chicken with his chopsticks.
“So about the tattoo,” Lu Han starts.
Zitao stretches, muscles rippling under the long black tee he is wearing. “Right,” he says. “You sure about that then?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han says. “I mean, I know what I’m gonna get.”
“Cool, I have a guy in mind who can do it for you,” Zitao beams at him. He makes a face when Lu Han puts pieces of burned sausage in his plate. “What the fuck, Lu Han? Either you undercook or overcook everything.”
“Fuck off, then you stop finishing off all the soju while I do all the grilling here,” Lu Han retorts and hands his phone over to Zitao. “Enter his contact information in, I’ll give him a call right now.”
“Easy there, tiger,” Zitao teases. “He’s not gonna do it for you now when you’re sloshed, Luzi. Sehun works at his home. He also does cut and colour, just so you know.”
“Wow, what is he, like a jack of all trades or something?”
“I guess you could call him that. Very quiet and intense kid, lives with his boyfriend. But he’s excellent, I found him through Yixing.”
“How does Yixing know them?”
“Sehun’s boyfriend and Yixing are colleagues at the dance studio. That place Yixing is part-time at.”
“Oh, he’s gay? Cool.”
“Yeah.”
He circles around, searching for a parking lot. Lu Han curses under his breath. This guy lives in essentially what is a cramped neighbourhood. Low-rise apartment buildings sit next to each other like matchboxes and there is no space to park.
Eventually, Lu Han ends up sandwiched between a large van and someone’s Toyota that looks like it hasn’t had a car wash in seven years. He sticks both hands into the side pockets of his khaki shorts and takes a couple of deep nervous breaths.
Zitao offered to come with him but Lu Han turned him down, not wanting to seem like too much of a wuss. Sure, it was going to hurt like hell but he could take the pain for that time period. The excitement is also there, sitting uneasily in his gut. This is his first time doing anything to his body.
Sehun sounded baby-voiced on the phone and he’d kept their conversation to a minimum, merely providing him with location details. After mumbling that they could discuss the rest of the details when Lu Han got there, he’d quickly hung up.
Lu Han isn’t sure what to make of him just yet or what to expect in person either. Maybe short in terms of stature and plenty of piercings on his face? Possibly so.
He presses the door bell twice and waits. Lu Han looks around. It’s dimly lit in the corridor. Sehun resides on the fourth floor and there is no sign outside to suggest he’s a stylist cum piercing/tattoo artist. Nothing fancy at all. For someone with a huge clientele, Sehun sure doesn’t seem keen on advertising.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Lu Han says, feeling just a bit awkward. “I’m Lu Han, we spoke on the phone earlier--”
Sehun promptly cuts him off with a nod. “Come on in.”
Lu Han’s fists clench and unclench in his side pockets as he follows and toes his shoes off, while Sehun shuts the door behind him with a quiet click. Sehun is definitely not short at all. In fact, he is almost a head taller, looking extremely skinny in a pink muscle tee and tight green denims. His face is not full of piercings either, but he has a septum piercing with purple barbell and a piercing below his bottom lip. Lu Han wonders why he’s wearing such a huge beanie with his hair pushed under. It’s ridiculously hot these days, even indoors.
“My boyfriend’s at work, so we can head on into the living room,” Sehun says softly.
Lu Han nods.
The living room is small. It houses a large black leather couch and glass teapoy. Tons of fashion magazines are strewn around untidily and Lu Han picks them up, not registering any of the names before he recognizes them to be for the industry.
“They’re not useful,” Sehun says, a small smile curling on his lips.
“Seriously?”
A small shrug of broad shoulders and Sehun settles down beside him. “Not really,” he admits. “Other than the latest model of shears or buzzers, but there are never any interesting tips for new updo trends or whatever. Details concern me like they should anyone else.” He cuts off, cheeks flushing a bit when he realizes he’s been rambling.
“Anyway, so. About your tattoos.”
“I wanted three.”
Sehun’s brows furrow. “Then you’re looking at three sittings. Depending on the sizes, maybe more.”
“I don’t think so? Two are text, the third I want on my right calf.”
Lu Han fishes around in his pocket and hands over a piece of paper. Sehun takes it and studies them carefully for a few moments.
“What does the French mean?”
His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. Lu Han does not answer immediately.
“I can’t do it unless you tell me what it means,” Sehun says. “I’d like to know what my clients want to get before I ink it in.”
"Il me semble que je serais toujours bien là où je ne suis pas,"* Lu Han says slowly, more to himself. “It seems to be I will always be happy in the place where I am not.”
There is a pregnant pauses before Sehun smiles his approval. “Which one do you want first? This one or-” Sehun has to fight to keep his face blank but Lu Han notices his amusement. “-the “Karma’s a bitch” text?”
“I want this one first.”
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
Sehun takes him to the back of his apartment where he’s got his little studio set up. Lu Han doesn’t miss the work station and mirror either in the other room.
“How much time will this take?”
“About three hours maybe,” Sehun mumbles, taking out some contact paper. “None of your pieces are intricately detailed or complicated so it won’t take me very long. Any further questions for now? I’m just going to make a stencil and then we’ll get started.”
Lu Han bites down on his lip. Sehun looks up from his desk, where he’s already getting ready with a pen.
“Yeah,” Lu Han says. “Can I play music while you’re doing it?”
Sehun blinks. “Yes, of course.”
They discuss payment while Sehun works on his stencil for the text piece.
After Sehun is satisfied with his cursive, he motions for Lu Han to take his shirt off.
“Hah.” Lu Han’s hand flies to his mouth as he attempts in vain to stifle his giggles as Sehun applies a light layer of Vaseline to his side. He’s rather ticklish there.
Then Sehun places the stencil on Lu Han’s side, peeling it off. “Check the placement,” he says quietly. “Is it good?”
Lu Han flashes him a thumbs up.
“Okay,” Sehun says. “Lie down on your side. We’ll get started now.”
He pulls on a pair of white latex gloves and grabs a pot of ink. Probably enough, Sehun muses. A quick glance at the clock overhead tells him it’s 2 PM.
Jongin will be back in another hour or two.
Sehun grabs a roll of medical tape from his cupboard and cuts off two small strips before doubling them up on the armature bar of his tattoo machine. Then he takes out one of his needles, newly sterilized and slides it into the tube.
He’s given up on using rubber grommets to hold the eye loop of his needles steady over the years he’s been tattooing people. It tends to make the needle jump around too much in the machine anyway. More vibrations are better to absorb the shock, a lot of Jongin’s friends have told him, especially a very close friend, Chanyeol, but Sehun discounts that, opting for more precise quality output. It might be more old school but the tape works for him better and gives a solid hold.
“We’re ready to go?” He asks Lu Han who’s already got his eyes shut tightly. Cute, Sehun thinks before checking himself. Lu Han is handsome and pretty at the same time, something Sehun hasn’t failed to notice ever since his client walked in. He has thick lashes, clear skin, a bad caramel dye job and nice thick calves. Sehun licks his lips.
Probably plays soccer a lot in his spare time. On the whole, Lu Han looks like someone who’s doing pretty well for himself.
“Yeah.”
“I need you to calm down,” Sehun says. “Remember the pain is minuscule compared to what you’re probably imagining it to be. We’re going to be done before you know it.”
Lu Han takes a deep shuddering breath and presses the play button on his phone. Classical music floods the studio.
Eventually Lu Han relaxes and Sehun gets to work. He loses himself in the vibrations and dabs away at the skin with paper towels, tossing them on the floor, as he licks his lips constantly, engrossed in the work.
Sehun never was very good at school but he always enjoyed Visual Arts class most. That, and one the Cosmetology class he could take. He remembers being the only guy in his class. Drawing, inking, piercing, cutting - he’s always been rather good with his hands. It was one of the first things Jongin told him when they started dating.
“You have beautiful fingers.”
They were long and slender, and indeed, Sehun was proud of them. At least it was one thing about himself that he liked besides all the piercings and tattoos he had.
Otherwise, he was a freak as far as society was concerned.
“We’re done,” Sehun says. “You can sit up now.” Lu Han lets out a sigh of relief as he obeys Sehun, stretching his arms a bit. He’s gone practically numb from all the pain. Sehun dabs away at his skin, eyes intent, removing the mess of ink and blood. Lu Han watches him work in silence, applying gel all over the tattoo. His skin there is slightly pink.
“I really like it,” Lu Han says, checking himself out in the mirror. He takes a picture of himself shirtless with his phone, sending it to Zitao immediately. Sehun averts his eyes, trying not to stare. Throughout the session, Lu Han’s shorts rode low on his hips and Sehun could see the waistband of his boxers, acutely aware of the thin trail of hair leading from his navel.
Lu Han has a really nice body.
“It’s great, thanks. Your cursive is so elegant and pretty.”
He doesn’t miss the way Sehun blushes with obvious pleasure and mumbles a shy “you’re welcome” before handing him a sheet of aftercare instructions and what to buy from the pharmacy later.
“Just follow the sheet and you’ll be fine. Of course, you can always call me if you have any questions.”
“Sounds good.” Lu Han stuffs the paper into the right side pocket of his shorts. “Also, I’ll probably call you later for my hair.”
Sehun nods. He checks his phone planner where he has all his appointments recorded. “We can do the next piece in two weeks, if you’d like.”
“That works.”
“Okay.”
They walk out together in the hallway, Sehun counting out the cash Lu Han gave him before stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans. Lu Han eyes the swell of his ass in those green denims. Sehun is attractive. He shakes himself mentally. This was ridiculous. He was checking out someone who was taken when he’d just had a messy breakup.
Lu Han hesitates, as he toes his shoes back on. “I was thinking of bleaching by the way. What do you think?”
Sehun’s eyes widen. “That will take a lot out of your hair.” He reaches and pets Lu Han’s hair, feeling the texture, his cool fingers making Lu Han want to lean further into his touch. “I can get rid of this caramel though. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Aw really?” Lu Han pouts. “I was thinking maybe I could shock people at work.”
Sehun laughs. “Well, first what you need is a hair cut. When you’re here next time I’ll fix your hair up and then-” he licks his lips again, Lu Han’s eyes lingering on the pink of Sehun’s tongue.
The front door clicks open. A guy with lightly tanned skin lets himself in. He looks up, noticing Lu Han and gives Sehun a raised eyebrow.
“Hey.”
Sehun shifts, slightly uncomfortable. “Lu Han, this is my boyfriend, Jongin. Jongin, this is Lu Han. He was referred to me through Yixing.”
Jongin’s apparent irritation at finding a client still home melts away into a warm smile. “Oh hey, right, Lu Han.” He holds out a hand and Lu Han takes it. “Yeah, Yixing has mentioned you a couple of times. You’re a nurse, right?”
“Yeah,” Lu Han says. “I hear you teach dance.”
“Yeah, I teach kids contemporary. So nursing. How’s that like?”
“It can get rather hectic. Sometimes I’m called in on Saturdays too.”
Jongin shifts his weight on one foot, resting an arm on Sehun’s shoulder as he toes off his shoes. He winces. “Ow, my feet are killing me. Yeah, Yixing was telling me something about your girlfriend. I heard through the grapevine about plans for nuptials? Are we all getting invited?” He grins.
“Oh, you have a girlfriend?” Sehun asks. He wants to bite down on his tongue the minute he asks it.
Lu Han lets out forced laughter. “You heard right,” he says lightly. “Except we just broke up last week so any plans as such don’t exist anymore.”
Jongin’s face falls. “Ah,” he says. “I’m sorry. I should not have asked.”
“It’s fine,” Lu Han mumbles, wanting to look anywhere except at Sehun’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’ll call you later, Sehun. I have to run now. It was nice meeting you Jongin, bye.”
He rushes out.
Stupid, Lu Han tells himself later when he’s in his car. He hits his steering wheel a couple of times.
He can’t escape Victoria. She’s everywhere.
Jongin pulls off Sehun’s beanie, tossing it on the couch in their living room. Sehun sighs and crawls into his lap, his bangs falling into his face.
“Hey,” Jongin says, softly, and Sehun’s hair turns as pink as his cheeks.
“Hey yourself,” he whispers, and while they kiss, tongues rubbing, some of the strands turn scarlet.
ii.
It started when he was ten. Sehun doesn’t remember the exact date. When, where or how - he had no idea. There were no complications during his delivery, least not any that his mother or the supervising doctor at the time could recall. They proclaimed Sehun Oh a perfectly healthy newborn baby and his parents had been happy.
Ilsung used to take his little brother out for bike rides to the children’s park a few blocks away from their apartment. Their father was a busy man. Having opened his own ENT practice, he spent hours away from the family. Sehun had next to no memories of him when it started.
They used the swings, pushing with their legs, using all the force they had in their skinny limbs to make them go higher. And higher.
Maybe it was then that once, when Ilsung paused to idly watch a hyper five year old Sehun, laughing and screaming at his older brother to catch up already, his breath caught when he saw tangled dark strands shine a stunning molten gold.
“Sehun,” he said, as the gold shifted into a warm reddish orange hue. Ilsung had no idea how long he watched his little brother, feeling almost suspended in that moment of disbelief.
The sun had long set.
They took him out of school. The rest of elementary passed away in an uneventful haze. His mother took to locking the bathroom door behind her while she buzzed his head clean and empty. A blank slate each month. Excuses were made at dentist’s appointments. His father ran frantic searches through medical journals. A strange rare case of albinism? But it was far more abnormal than any of the children with pale skin, thick white hair and eyebrows and light eyes. It was only the hair on his head that suddenly seemed to shift into every shade of colour imaginable. Warm shades with positive moods, cool tones with sadness or boredom. Sehun was shuttled from tutor to tutor to yet another confused tutor who was made to answer to two very overprotective parents.
“Does this mean I’m a freak?” Sehun couldn’t resist asking once, after another session with the buzzer. His hair grew back thick and fast. They had to shave him every three weeks. He hated looking at his reflection in the mirror. Buzz cuts did not suit him to say the very least. His face was too thin and long, not to mention he also had an under bite.
Ilsung held him close. “No,” he said carefully. “Not at all. Think of it this way. It’s pretty cool, don’t you think? No one else in the whole world probably has it.”
So I am a freak. What the hell did mood hair really do for him? It wasn’t even useful in any way. He couldn’t wear his hair in a surfer cut, like all the other boys his age. Instead, he got to be bald.
It sucked, and even Ilsung didn’t sound very convincing because he knew it sucked too.
The day Ilsung moved out for college was also the day Sehun made up his mind. He was left alone to his own devices at home, finishing up History assignments doled out to him by an entirely unenthusiastic tutor. Sehun wasn’t even sure if he was passing or failing. He did know he wasn’t learning anything remotely useful.
His parents and Ilsung were on the road. Sehun had declined the offer to come see Ilsung move into his room on campus. He loved his brother. Ilsung had been nothing but a good doting older brother to him over the years Sehun was stuck at home. The bitterness and resentment however, did build up. Ilsung would probably do a lot of cool things Sehun couldn’t.
He looked up from his homework to see a huge flash of red whir past his eyes.
“Sorry, I think our ball fell in your backyard,” said the other boy, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish look. Sehun pulled his beanie down further, feeling rather self-conscious. He recognized the boy as one of his neighbors in one of the houses overlooking the main road.
“It’s fine. You can come get it,” Sehun said.
“I’m Jongin.” Sehun led the way from the front of his house to their huge backyard. “How come I don’t see you around much?”
“I’m Sehun and yeah, you probabIy don’t because I’m home schooled,” Sehun said, cheeks heating up. He knew the fuzz on his head had probably turned a faint shade of pink too. It always happened when he was mortified or aroused.
“Really?” Jongin’s brows furrowed in interest. Sehun found the ball easily enough. It was buried in the midst of Ilsung’s tomato plants. His older brother was obsessed with growing his own produce. They had tomatoes, cherry tomatoes and a cherry tree. Most of the tomatoes were still unripe green.
“Yeah,” Sehun said. He refused to meet Jongin’s questioning gaze. “My parents just don’t believe in the education system much,” he hastened to add, the same old lie his mother taught him to say over three years coming out rather glib.
“School is something to do though,” Jongin said. “Friends are cool too.”
“I have friends!”
“You should come to high school with me and Chanyeol,” Jongin said, with a wide grin on his face.
“Who’s Chanyeol?”
“My friend. He’s really cool. I think you’ll like him. Want to shoot some hoops with us?”
“I can’t play.”
“Anyone can shoot hoops. Come on-“
Jongin’s tone brooked no leave for argument. Sehun found himself being dragged out of his house in his embarrassing orange pyjamas, his fingers caught tight in Jongin’s hold.
Even then, at their first meeting, Sehun learned he would always have a hard time telling Jongin no to anything, especially when he pouted like that.
“Are you sure-“
“I’m very sure,” Sehun said, taking a deep breath. His father heaved a great sigh, looking at him over the rim of his spectacles as he folded his newspaper over.
“You’ll have to cover your head every day.” His mother’s hands were hesitant, but warm and supportive over the back of his nape. “You have to be very careful, Sehun, especially in high school. Other kids might play pranks. No one knows you. What if someone tugs your beanie off?”
She did have a point. His hair shifted colours at the speed of lightening, never pausing to settle on one shade for more than a millisecond. But Sehun thought of Jongin and Chanyeol. His resolve hardened further.
“It’s fine,” Sehun said. “That will never happen. You’ll see.”
He was right. By some stroke of luck, throughout his four years of high school, it never did happen. His beanie stayed on at all times.
Chanyeol was a tall boy with gangly limbs and smiles too wide. His attitude was generous, his words intensely persuasive. Sehun and Jongin sat with him for lunch. After sophomore year passed, Chanyeol got a secondhand Camaro from his father. He painted it red and for a while, Sehun found his Facebook spammed with pictures of Chanyeol’s new love.
They went for long drives in the weekend to the beach - Sehun and Chanyeol up front while Jongin sprawled out in the back and made himself comfortable with the windows rolled down. Sea breeze ruffled their hair and for once, Sehun could feel it too. He’d told both of them hesitantly when they were in Chanyeol’s room. They were completely sloshed from one too many bottles of soju Chanyeol stole from his noona’s booze stash hidden in her closet.
“So what should we call you now? Parrot Sehun.”
“No,” Jongin said, hiccupping a little. “He’s a bird of paradise.”
Sehun decked Chanyeol for that, who snickered, burying his face in Jongin’s neck. His hair was a mess of curls and Sehun’s fingers itched to whip out a pair of scissors and just trim them down. Except that was the most infuriating thing ever - his best friends never let him touch their hair.
“Well,” Sehun said dryly, but hands still shaking with relief. “I’m glad you guys don’t think I’m too much of a freak or something.”
He still made to pull his beanie back on his head with jerky fingers, still heavily embarrassed, sure they both secretly thought he looked like an ugly overgrown baby. Especially Jongin (and god, he really didn’t want Jongin of all people to think he was ugly, he really didn’t) but-
Jongin brushed his hands away and reached out for him, pulling Sehun close to his side. He kissed the top of Sehun’s head, lips brushing pink fuzz and Sehun blushed harder when their fingers brushed gently then intertwined, almost as if it was the natural thing to do.
“If anyone’s the biggest freak here,” Jongin said, fixing Sehun with a solemn look. The tips of his lips quirked slightly to make for a little smirk. “It’s definitely Chanyeol.”
“Fuckers, see if I sneak soju out for you again-“
But they were all laughing. Chanyeol had a karaoke machine in his basement. They headed down, queued a whole bunch of old Shinhwa songs and took their shirts off while belting out the lyrics to Eusha Eusha. After Chanyeol passed out on the rug, drool trailing down the side of his mouth, Jongin and Sehun cuddled up on a lazy couch.
Sehun sighed when Jongin’s warm mouth pressed firm against his collar bone. He curled a hand in Jongin’s hair, fingers massaging his scalp absently while his best friend sucked on his neck, taking pale skin between his teeth and laving all over with his tongue.
“You really don’t think this is too weird?” Sehun asked, insecure all over again when Jongin looked up, fumbling with the drawstring of Sehun’s pants.
Jongin shook his head. “Dumbass,” he said softly. “If I thought it was weird, would I suck your dick ever though?”
Sehun covered his mouth with the back of his hand, stifling a nervous giggle. It soon turned into a moan as Jongin spread his legs, bent down and took his head into his mouth. It was hot, wet and eager.
They fucked after, next to a passed out Chanyeol. Sehun’s hands uselessly scrabbled for purchase on cool black leather while Jongin drove his hips forward, greedy and quick, fucking Sehun’s thighs. A continuous string of high-pitched moans escaped Sehun, his babyish voice turning breathless as Jongin’s dick brushed the underside of his balls.
“I’m close,” Sehun choked out, sighing when Jongin’s lips brushed the back of his nape. He still felt self-conscious about having his beanie off but Jongin was thrusting between his thighs with a frantic desperation that emboldened him.
Jongin took his ear lobe between his teeth, and bit down lightly. “I’ve always wondered-“ His voice cut off, when Sehun reached behind to tug on Jongin’s hair. “Always wanted-“
You.
His knees buckled when he came, shooting thick ropes of cum all over Chanyeol’s couch. Jongin held him close and somehow Sehun knew it wasn’t premature, not at all, when he tipped his head back, whispered something shyly only for Jongin to hear.
“Me too,” Jongin whispered, with an infectious face-splitting smile which Sehun basked in. It was perfect.
Everything Sehun ever wanted, all he’d hoped and dreamed and wished for, was present in this moment, with Jongin’s arms tight, secure and supportive around him.
“Are you sure?”
Sehun rolled his eyes, while Chanyeol eyed the needle in his hand with trepidation. “Don’t be such a pussy,” Sehun said. Jongin laughed, lighting up the cheap weed he’d placed in the bowl of Sehun’s cotton candy pink pipe. They were at the beach again, and it was already past dusk.
“I’ve done Soojung’s lobes, Jinri’s nose and five hundred other things she wanted. If they’re perfectly fine and look good with it, then I know what I’m doing,” Sehun deadpanned.
“Suck it up if you want to look good,” Jongin advised. “He did my lobes last week.”
“You suck his dick, of course you sucked it up,” Chanyeol retorted but the wave of hysteria in his voice did not go unnoticed.
Jongin raised an eyebrow. Chanyeol folded his arms, a mutinous but mostly uncertain look on his face.
“You’re saving money,” Sehun said with a shrug.
Chanyeol finally relented, letting Sehun clean his ears. He hissed when Sehun held his cartilage firm, eyes screwed tightly shut. If Sehun wasn’t focused on what he was doing, he would have laughed his ass off. Chanyeol looked rather comical.
When Sehun drew the needle in, Jongin let out a whistle. “That’s it,” he said, amused. “That’s literally all it was.” Chanyeol gave him the finger, yelping a little when Sehun slid the piercing in.
“There you go,” Sehun said, with a wry smile. He held up his phone, so Chanyeol could check out his reflection. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it.”
Chanyeol gave him a high five and Sehun smiled again, meeting Jongin’s eyes. They were filled with fond affection and pride, and Sehun felt the same overwhelming feeling of happiness again.
The exact memories of his father’s funeral two months just before Sehun graduated remained a bit fuzzy in his mind. After a rather late diagnosis of colon cancer, his father eventually passed away. Cancer was a nightmare, Sehun told Jongin often. It happened like a nightmare did, oft with no warning, a reality that was too mind-numbing to swell on and a frightening calm descended before the storm was even done.
There were lots of nights spent at the hospital in a flurry of tears, harsh words exchanged between him and Ilsung over the phone, their mother losing life and colour with each passing day. Flash forward to his best friends each holding his hand while Sehun watched with blank eyes as his father’s coffin was slowly, carefully, lowered into the ground.
“He was really proud of you,” Jongin said, quietly, when they were cooped up in his room later, passing a bottle of soju between them. Sehun decided he had no care for greeting any of the relatives he’d never known for his entire life time. Ilsung, ever the more independent and polite older brother was there to fulfil those familial obligations. “It’s too bad he had to go before we graduated.”
Sehun buried his face in Chanyeol’s shoulder and said nothing. He didn’t cry. Never once in his life had Sehun ever cried in front of anyone and he wasn’t about to start now, not even in front of his boyfriend and best friend.
The niggling feeling of guilt, of having caused his father too much stress, perhaps even having driven him to his death was something that stayed with Sehun for the rest of his life.
part two