#M36: Minutt for Minutt Part Two
Sehun doesn’t show up at school for three whole days. For that entire time, Luhan fiddles with his phone, wondering if they’re at a place where he can send Sehun concerned texts. Sure, they may have made out once or twice (or maybe a little more), but it’s only been a month or so since they’ve met.
And Sehun still has a girlfriend.
So Luhan ends up not texting him, settling for scanning the hallways and cafeteria for a sign of Sehun whenever he isn’t stuck in class. His pulse spikes whenever he’s metres away from his locker, only to drop when he doesn’t spot another sketch stuck to its door.
He’s lying in bed on Wednesday night, wide awake at a quarter to one, when his phone buzzes with a text. Luhan automatically assumes it’s his mother, so he almost drops his phone in shock when he sees Sehun’s name on the screen.
Opening it, he reads the following five words: I told Amie about us.
When he tries to scroll for more, Luhan realises that that’s all Sehun sent.
He’s just about to reply with a what do you mean? what did she say? when Facebook oh-so-helpfully reminds him that it’s Mattéo’s birthday.
“Shit.” Scrambling out of bed, he fumbles through the dark for his laptop and digs through the emergency folder of birthday and Christmas gifts he has set aside for moments like this. Every item offers same day shipping.
By the time he decides on a present and pays for it, sleep creeps up on him like a monster in the night. His phone lies silently beneath his pillow, Sehun’s text unanswered.
That text is the only time he hears from Sehun for the week. Sehun doesn’t even show up at theatre club, much to Luhan’s disappointment.
Friday night shows him curled up on the couch, listening to Baekhyun and Luna (a.k.a. the flatmate that keeps the apartment together and relatively safe to live in) laughing in the kitchen as they whip up dinner. His phone lies by his head and Luhan’s gaze keeps flickering to the dark screen.
He should be out at the arcade with his friends celebrating Mattéo’s birthday, but he’d lied and said that his mother had requested his presence. Well aware of the condition of Luhan’s mother, none of his friends even thought to question his excuse. The guilt is there, hanging over him like a cloud, but he doesn’t have the mental energy to deal with it.
“What’s got you so glum?”
Luhan lifts his gaze to see Luna in the doorway, leaning against the frame with glass of orange juice in her hand. On second thought, perhaps it’s a mimosa.
“I’m not,” Luhan begins, then promptly gives up. He sinks deeper into the cushions.
The oven beeps and Luhan hears the door opening and closing. Moments after, Baekhyun appears next to Luna - he’s definitely having a mimosa, if the bubbles in his glass are anything to go by.
“I recognise that look,” Baekhyun says, sipping daintily. “He’s pining.”
Something in his back cracks from how quickly Luhan scrambles to sit up. “Pine - I’m not pining!”
Luna walks over and leans down to swat Luhan’s legs off the couch. It dips slightly when she sits, toned legs crossing at the ankles.
“Honey,” she says, setting her glass down on the table. Baekhyun grins and squeezes in on Luhan’s other side. “Tell us what’s going on. Who’s the lucky girl?”
Luhan winces, teeth almost breaking the skin on his lip when he bites down.
When the seconds turn into minutes and Luhan still doesn’t answer, Luna comes to a conclusion.
“... Unless it’s not a girl?”
Something ice cold runs down Luhan’s spine.
“I -” His voice cracks, nails digging into the flesh of his thighs. That triggers another thick, heavy pause that Luhan wants to gag on.
“Hey.” It’s Baekhyun this time, voice surprisingly gentle and serious. “It’s okay, you know, if you… like men.”
As always, the denial is hot on the tip of his tongue. What comes out, however, surprises even Luhan himself. “I know it’s okay to be gay.”
“And yet you’re afraid of being viewed as gay,” Baekhyun points out. Luhan wonders when the hell his friend became so perceptive. “Why is that?”
“Dunno. The stereotypes. The obligation to participate in Pride and wear clothes that’s tight and splattered with the colours of the rainbow. Being sexually labelled because of my body type or how I dress.”
Luna rests a warm hand on the curve of Luhan’s knee and stays silent, aware that it’s not her place to speak or offer advice. It is, however, Baekhyun’s home ground.
“Don’t deny who you are because you’re scared of how people will view you. You owe it to what you see in the mirror to accept yourself. If you fit a stereotype or if you don’t; if you end up going to Pride or you don’t; you owe yourself that much.”
Baekhyun stands, drains his mimosa, and exhales. “It requires courage, you know. Coming out, I mean. There will always be those that look down on you, but there will also be those who will support you. Unconditionally.”
Then he leaves, disappearing into the kitchen with a swish of his silk robe.
Minseok appears at his door on Sunday evening. When Luhan glances at the clock, he notes that it’s right about when his mother would be leaving to go to church.
“We’re going to a party, and you’re coming with us.”
Luhan pulls a face but allows Minseok to drag him out of the apartment and down a few streets to a house party. They probably don’t even know the person hosting it, but getting inside is as easy as saying hi to a few strangers and exchanging pats on the back.
He’s been neglecting his friends for a while now, so Luhan fights past the wall of reluctance and accepts the Solo cup of alcohol that Minseok shoves into his hand. They find Mattéo attempting to chat up a girl - she looks bored out of her wits - and Marwan already halfway to being absolutely stoned.
“How much do you wanna bet Mattéo actually ends up getting some tonight?”
Luhan snorts into his drink. “I ain’t betting on something I’d lose.”
The alcohol helps, of course it does, and Luhan finds himself actually enjoying the loud mess that is a house party. He hangs with his best friend and wingmans for him, smiling politely whenever a girl or another attempts to flirt. The question is clearly bursting to come out of Minseok’s chest, but it’s not the time nor the place for it, so Luhan’s actions are blessedly left unquestioned.
That is, until he turns a corner and spots Sehun there, an arm casually flung across Amie’s shoulders as they chat with another couple.
Luhan turns on his heel and leaves the room, just missing the moment Sehun’s eyes lock on his retreating back.
“I gotta go,” he says the moment he finds Minseok. His friend drops the conversation he’s in instantly, displeasure washing over his face at Luhan’s words.
“What? Why?”
Depositing his cup on a random surface, Luhan shakes his head and makes to leave, but Minseok stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, I don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to talk to me. I can tell that something’s up, you know. I’m your best friend, you’ve been freezing me out, and it’s fucking insulting, to be honest.”
This - Minseok’s anger - is new, and Luhan doesn’t like new, not when he has no clue on how to proceed. But Minseok figures it out for him, pushing him through the crowd until they make it past the front door and out onto the open street.
“Talk,” Minseok says the moment the chaos is far away enough for some quiet.
Panic sets in almost instantly, firing up his pulse and pulling cold sweat up onto the skin of his palms. He wants to lie, wants so badly to be able to come up with a good, solid lie, but he takes one look at Minseok’s face and - ”I’m gay,” he whispers.
The antagonism seeps out of Minseok as quickly as it appeared.
“Oh,” is all he says for a few moments. Then, “Thanks for trusting me with that, man.”
Luhan breathes, looks away, tries to stop the shaking in his limbs.
“Hey, you know I don’t care who or what you like, right? You’re my best friend.”
When he doesn’t respond, Minseok rolls his eyes and raps him on the crown of his head. Hard.
“Ow! Okay, okay, yeah, I know.” Minseok’s got a small smile on his face and Luhan can’t help but huff out a short laugh.
They start walking down the street, falling into step with each other easily.
“Why did you want to leave the party?”
“I, uh, saw someone there.”
“Who?”
Minseok already knows this much, Luhan thinks. Might as well tell him everything else.
“Sehun.”
Nighttime is different; it’s a time for secrets and for overthinking, and Luhan has done a lot of that across many sleepless nights. Tonight, it seems that Luna’s fallen victim to it, too.
Hand tucked underneath his pillow, Luhan curls up on his bed and listens to his friend through the thin walls of his bedroom. It’s almost two in the morning, but she’s speaking into the phone with such fervor - and volume - that it could very well be two in the afternoon.
It’s not hard to figure out what she’s upset about: her boyfriend and the lack of effort he’s putting into their relationship, one that’s already under the strain of long-distance. Luhan guesses that it’s Elin on the phone, one of their mutual friends from school and Luna’s confidante.
“... and nobody lives happily ever after, because in the end, no one's fucking willing to sacrifice anything for someone they claim to love.”
The skin on the back of Luhan’s neck crawls.
He kicks the covers off and rolls out of bed, nearly tripping over a pair of jeans on the floor in his haste to get to the door. Luna walks by right when he steps out of his room and they nearly collide into each other, her yelp lodging in her throat when Luhan catches her by the arm.
“Sorry,” he says, and she shakes it off.
“No, it’s okay. Did I wake you?”
Luhan shrugs. “No, I wasn’t asleep.”
He can hear Elin’s voice through the phone, faint and a little staticky, but she’s there.
“Oh. So… you heard?”
“Bits and pieces.” Luhan inches past her and heads into the kitchen for a glass of water. She follows after him, a little hesitant, phone clutched between both hands.
“I…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Luhan tells her, watching as the glass fills with water. “It’s your personal business. I will say this, though.” He takes a gulp of water and swipes at a stray drop that slips free. “He’s an idiot if he gives up on you and what you guys have. You’re a great person, Luna. Don’t settle for something less than what you deserve.”
He leaves with a kiss to her cheek.
For the rest of the time he lies awake, Luhan doesn’t hear another word from Luna.
“Get the pepperoni,” Minseok groans, “it’s so much better than the cheese.”
“You want me to get the pepperoni just so you can have some,” Luhan says. He fixes his friend with a look and grabs a slice of cheese pizza instead.
With a grand roll of his eyes, Minseok grumbles about friends that don’t make sacrifices and Luhan sniggers all the way to the cashier’s line. Luhan ends up paying for Minseok’s lunch as well - because Minseok has a very sneaky talent of getting his way - and they’ve only taken a few steps away from the counter when Sehun suddenly materialises in front of them.
“Hey,” Sehun says, cautious.
Luhan stares at him - no apparent broken bones and no injuries of any sort, apart from the shadows beneath his eyes. No visible explanation for his absence, Luhan concludes bitterly.
“So where have you been?”
A loud cough sounds from behind him and Minseok mumbles something about going back to their table. Luhan lets him go, eyes never straying from Sehun’s face.
“I had to take some time off school,” Sehun answers once Minseok’s out of hearing range. They’re standing in the middle of the cafeteria and students are swarming around them, bags and elbows threatening to jostle Luhan’s lunch right off its tray.
That vague, half-assed answer is nowhere close to what Luhan wants to hear and his fight or flight instinct slams right up to the surface. This time, he picks fight.
“To fix your relationship, I assume? That text you sent me - were you drunk?”
Sehun’s brows draw together and he sighs, fingers slipping into the front pockets of his jeans. “I wasn’t. I did tell her about us.”
“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that she’s okay with her boyfriend hooking up with another guy.”
“She’s not. That’s why I’ve been absent. Luhan -” God, he wasn’t prepared to hear his name on Sehun’s lips.
“Well, seems like you guys fixed things during that time, then. She must be happy. Excuse me, I have to go.”
He shoves his way past Sehun, not caring when he feels the point of his elbow collide with the other’s ribs. In the end, Minseok ends up eating half of his pizza anyway.
When he gets to his locker, ready for another battle with the blasted thing, Luhan gets the shock of his life. For the first time in what feels like forever, the door swings open for him, effortless, like someone had poured melted butter into every crevice of the lock.
A slip of paper flutters out and Luhan instantly knows what it is before he bends to pick it up.
He unfolds it to see another comic, just two panels this time. The first panel depicts comic!Luhan sitting with his friends at lunch with comic!Sehun in the background, and the second panel has them sitting outside on the bench they once shared a blunt at.
can we talk after school, please? i’ll wait for you at the bench.
Luhan wonders what Sehun would do if he doesn’t show. Text him? Call him? Search for him?
He folds the drawing back up and slots it into a notebook for safekeeping. When he closes his locker door, it goes without a fight.
Luhan rests his weight on the wide ledge of the window, looking down through the pane at Sehun’s back. Broad shoulders, almost stretching at the seams of his jacket, hunched over as he waits. It’s been twenty minutes since school has let out, twenty minutes since Luhan got to the window and spotted Sehun sitting at that bench. How long has he been out there?
When twenty minutes becomes twenty-five, Luhan slides off his perch and makes his way outside.
Sehun’s head snaps up when he approaches and Luhan sees the anxiousness melt off his face. The sight grips at his heart, hard enough to bruise. He takes a seat, trapping his hands between his thighs in an attempt to prevent any sudden urges to reach out and touch Sehun.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“I think you’re mistaken,” Sehun says, straight to the point. “You saw me with Amie that night at the party, didn’t you?”
Luhan’s silence is just as good as a verbal answer.
“We didn’t go there together, I just bumped into her there. We didn’t go there as a couple and we didn’t leave as one. Her and I - our relationship is complicated. We’ve been friends for years and have dated for almost that entire time. We might not be together anymore, but she’s still my friend and we still care about each other. I told her about us, Luhan, I really did.”
For a long time, neither one speaks. Luhan watches cars and buses go by, a couple of students heading in and out of the school’s front doors, a stray cat that ducks into the bushes with an irritated meow.
“That… doesn’t explain where you’ve been.”
From his periphery, Luhan sees Sehun’s fingernails dig into the flesh of his own arms, a reflexive twitch in response to his questions.
“I was home,” comes the careful answer.
“For the entire week?”
Sehun takes a deep breath. “Yes. I needed the time.” A pause, where Luhan stares at the tightness in Sehun’s throat. “I’m bipolar, Luhan. Do you, uh, know what that is?”
Never in a million years did Luhan see this coming and it isn’t until Sehun starts fidgeting that he realises he has yet to reply. “Y-yeah, sorry. Mattéo’s mother is bipolar as well.”
At that exact moment, his mind jumps to his mother. His mother, schizophrenic and often in the throes of wild delusion, her mental state arguably the sole reason for the abrupt departure of his father, the withdrawal of his sister, and the overall disintegration of his family. Schizophrenia is nothing like bipolar disorder, but the thought of yet another potentially important relationship in his life being ruined by a demon he cannot see nor fight is something he’s unable to stomach.
His blood runs cold and he stands.
“Luhan? What -”
“I’m sorry. I can’t -” He swallows, hating the terror hot in his throat. He doesn’t - he can’t - look at Sehun. “I can’t do this.”
He runs.
The next few days of school turn out to be the biggest challenge Luhan has ever faced in his lifetime. He times everything - arriving at school mere minutes before the bell rings so Sehun can’t corner him against his locker, buying his lunch as late as possible to avoid the vulnerability of being stuck in lines, and for the first time ever, he skips theatre club.
Minseok doesn’t push for answers, and he must have said something to the other two, because neither do they. From the looks they exchange between themselves and the ones they not-so-sneakily toss at Luhan, Luhan can tell that his friends are itching to know what the hell is going on. Maybe he should tell them.
“Drinks? Tomorrow at mine? Baekhyun and Luna will be out for the night and I think Luna’s got a couple bottles of cheap wine that she won’t mind letting me have.”
He says it so casually that it takes his friends a few long seconds to really register the words.
“Wait -”
“What, really?”
“You want us to -?”
Luhan throws a soggy fry at Marwan’s head and says, “Yes, these couple of weeks have been shitty and I want to spend some time with my friends to try and feel better. That okay with you guys?”
Over the enthusiastic noise of their assent, Luhan glances across the cafeteria and sees Sehun looking right back at him. Bright sunlight and shadows play off the planes off his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the hollowness under his eyes.
Suddenly short of breath, Luhan tears his gaze away.
Marwan and Mattéo accept Luhan’s mumbled I’m gay so easily that Luhan’s half-convinced that they think they heard something else. Similarly, they take in the rest of what Luhan has to say like it’s as simple as breathing, nodding at the right moments and prompting him with questions when he gets stuck.
It isn’t until Marwan says, “So, now that I know you’re gay, I gotta ask you this: which Chris do you think is the hottest? I have this cousin who insists Pratt is the hottest and I really don’t agree with her,” does he start to wrap his mind around the fact that his friends are truly okay with it.
While Marwan and Mattéo start bickering over the hottest Chris - Marwan nearly pops a vein when Mattéo mentions Pine - , Minseok nudges him with his knee. When Luhan turns to him, Minseok simply smiles, and Luhan is so overcome by affection and gratitude for his friends that tears start to prick at his eyes.
Horrified at himself, he downs his glass of wine, coughs at the burn, and catches Mattéo’s attention - nothing like some sobering conversation to keep the tears at bay.
“Sehun is bipolar.”
Mattéo blinks at him once, twice, then nods animatedly.
“Alright, I see. Did you want some advice on how to handle it?”
Luhan pinches the stem of the wine glass, flesh around his nails bulging with the pressure. “Maybe? I don’t know, really.”
“Well, you’ve met my mother.” Luhan nods, thinking about the sweet woman he met a year or so ago. Mattéo clearly got the soft colour of his hair from her. “What do you think of her?”
“She seems… completely fine.”
Hands spread, Mattéo lifts a shoulder and says, “There you go. I know everything that’s happened with your mother is scary, and I can’t say I understand, but this is different. My mother is just like any other person you see on the street, except for the fact that she gets periods of depression and mania. Watching those episodes unfold for the first few times can be frightening, but you gotta fight past that and learn how to be there for them.”
Luhan stares at a scratch on the table’s surface, put there by Baekhyun, hungover and wielding a fruit knife on a Saturday afternoon just after the New Year.
“I think he just had a depressive episode,” he mumbles. “I think I might’ve -”
He stops, unable to speak past the lump of guilt in his throat.
“If you care for him,” Mattéo says, pouring more wine into his glass, “you need to be there for him. I’m not saying try and fix him, because there’s nothing wrong with him and none of this is his fault. Be understanding. Be there, man. It helps, trust me.”
“Look,” Marwan interjects, “he broke up with his girlfriend - of how many years, again? - for you. You, someone he’s known for a handful of months. It’s an asshole move to run from this just because he has a disorder that he didn’t even ask for.”
Luhan winces, the brutal truth of that statement searing hot into his skin like a brand.
“I’m -”
“We’re your friends and we’re not here to judge you. But what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t point out where you fucked up?”
It’s at that exact moment that his phone lights up with a text.
Luhan blinks at the device, sitting innocently on the table next to a crumpled bag of Doritos.
“It’s Sehun,” Minseok says helpfully when Luhan makes no move to open it. “Want me to read it for you?”
Everyone jumps in their seats when Luhan’s hand shoots out to slap over the phone. “No! No. Uh, thanks, but I got it.”
i’m sorry. i know you didn’t ask for any of this. don’t know if this is too much to ask for, but could i see you?
“He wants to see me.”
“Dude, say yes.”
okay, he types with jerky thumbs. when?
now? if that’s ok. i’m out on the street in front of your building.
Scrambling to his feet, Luhan darts to the nearest window overlooking the street and looks out into the darkness. Sure enough, there by one of the streetlamps, is Sehun’s unmistakable silhouette.
“Oh my god.”
“What, is he down there?”
“Yeah, fuck.” As he speaks, Luhan watches Sehun lift his phone up, presumably to check if Luhan had replied.
He hears a smack, the sound of someone’s palm colliding with another’s bare skin.
“Get up, we’re leaving. They need some time together.”
“Wait -”
“Don’t be a wuss, man. You like him, he likes you - this is just an obstacle you have to conquer, you know?”
Stunned, Luhan looks on as his friends gather their things and disappear through the front door. Mattéo’s got one foot past the threshold when he turns and says, “Remember. Just be there for him.”
In the sudden silence of the apartment, Luhan leans against the wall, sweaty palms slipping on the sides of his phone.
okay, he types again. you can come up. i’m on the third floor, unit 9.
He twists his head to look out the window, just in time to catch Sehun straightening to his full height, striding out of the flood of light and into the lobby. He counts the seconds, along to the steady tickticktick of the kitchen clock behind him.
A hundred and eight-six seconds. That’s how long it takes for Sehun to get up here, probably stuck in the lobby for most of those seconds waiting for the shitty elevator that moves at an honest-to-god snail’s pace.
The knock pulls him out of his reverie and Luhan hurries over to the door, pulling it open to see Sehun there, a beanie snug over his ears and his cheeks tinged red with the night’s chill. His lips are chapped and those shadows under his eyes only seem to be getting darker.
“Hi,” Sehun says, soft.
“Hi,” Luhan says, aching.
For a while, they simply look at each other, sharing air, sharing space.
“I’m,” Sehun begins, then promptly shuts up with Luhan lets out a pained noise and pulls him in by the wrist.
“No, stop. I’m sorry.”
He’s not entirely sure who moved first, but the next thing he knows, he’s got Sehun’s lips on his and Sehun’s fingers curling around his hips. Clarity hits and pulls, like a hook sinking deep into his gut and yanking. He needs to try, need to give them a chance instead of taking two steps backwards before they’ve even had the opportunity to take half a step forward.
Soothing the dryness of Sehun’s lips with his tongue, Luhan kicks the door shut behind him and lets himself get shoved up against it.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, hands roaming everywhere, desperate to commit the feel of the other into his memory. He traces the gentle curve of Sehun’s neck down to the sharp ridge of his clavicle, a hand curling around his nape to feel the brush of soft hair against his fingertips. “I’m sorry. I got scared. My mother, she -”
“It’s okay,” Sehun cuts in. His breath fans warm over the curve of Luhan’s lips. “I understand. If you don’t want me in your life, if you think that it could get too hard to handle, just tell me. I can leave. I don’t want to, but I will.”
“I think it will be hard,” Luhan says, staring at the hollow of Sehun’s throat as the latter steps even further into his personal space. “I don’t know how to be there for you in the way you need me to be. I don’t know how to tell myself that you’ll be okay if and when you get into one of your episodes.”
“I-I understand.” A shift, then it’s almost as if Sehun’s pulling away and putting distance between them. Luhan reaches out with both hands and fists the fabric of Sehun’s jacket, keeping him in place. A muted thud echoes in his ears when the flat of Sehun’s hands come back into contact with the door.
“No, you don’t, because I’m not finished. I don’t know, but I will work on it. I’ll learn. I’ll learn how to spot an oncoming episode, I’ll learn how to keep you safe to the best of my abilities - fuck, I’ll figure what you like to eat when you’re depressed and make that until you feel better.”
Sehun smiles, the corners of his mouth creeping up until his eyes are crinkling adorably.
“I like minestrone, but like, thicker than your typical minestrone. I also like a thick grilled cheese.”
Luhan gapes at him and Sehun’s smile only grows wider.
“Okay,” Luhan croaks. “I’ll learn how to make - mmph!”
Sehun kisses him hard and deep, a hand wrapping around his jaw to keep him in place and angle him just right. Heat rushes up Luhan’s body lightning fast, starting from the tips of his toes to the tips of his ears. He’s been with many, many girls, and none of them could have hoped to coax just a quick response out of him.
“Could we -”
“Yes,” Luhan breathes, and manhandles Sehun into the direction of his bedroom.
Those clever, clever fingers leave electricity humming in streaks down Luhan’s skin, running from his sternum down to his navel and in starbursts everywhere else. A shivery coldness follows suit and Luhan arches up into Sehun’s sure touch and the wetness of his tongue.
Ultimately, it’s the surety of his hips that has Luhan coming, Sehun’s name lodged in his throat and sparking at the tips of his fingers.
For the next few weeks, things go beautifully.
Luhan gets a comic stuck to his locker door every morning and he carries it in his pocket for the rest of the day. Once he gets home, the new comic gets pinned up onto a crooked corkboard he has above his desk.
His friends love Sehun. Mattéo fawns over him so much - in fact, Minseok ends up having to tell him that he will never get to sleep with a girl until he stops visibly mooning over his friend’s boyfriend.
They go on bike rides during the weekends, finding pretty areas around the city for Luhan to sit and pose for Sehun to sketch. On such weekends, Sehun sometimes drops by the apartment to cook with Luna and Baekhyun.
“He’s great,” Baekhyun tells Luhan one day after dinner. They’re at the table, watching as Sehun and Luna work on the dishes. There’s a trashy, yet painfully catchy, pop song on the radio and the two of them are dancing as they’re scrubbing, Luna’s laughter bright and lovely to complement Sehun’s grin. “Treats you like you’re the light of his life.”
“Yeah. He does.”
Baekhyun turns to look at him, as sharp as ever.
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
“No, I am. He’s amazing, you’re right. But I just can’t help thinking about when it would all go wrong, you know? What it would be like when I can’t keep up with his thoughts. If everything is going so well now, it makes sense that it would be really bad when it got bad, right?”
Baekhyun sighs, and somehow, he manages to make the sound dramatic.
“You can’t think of it like that. A relationship is comprised of both the good and the bad. You have to face both together and with the same attitude. Enjoy the good and stay strong through the bad. You’ll only come out of it stronger.”
Luhan’s saved from replying when Sehun comes over and extends a wet hand.
“Dance with us,” he says, eyes bright and smile sweet. Behind him, Luna twirls and lets out a hoot.
How could he not take Sehun’s hand and rise to his feet?
He tries to keep Baekhyun’s words in mind, but when things got bad…
For their 50th day anniversary, Sehun had brought Luhan to a fancy hotel for the night, where they spent hours eating, watching TV, smoking weed, and making love. The entire day went wonderfully, starting with yet another comic stuck to Luhan’s locker, accompanied for the first time by a single red rose.
That was followed by a home-cooked lunch, brought to school in a bunch of multi-coloured Tupperware containers that Sehun pulled out of his backpack like a practiced magic trick.
They biked all the way to the hotel after school, taking the scenic route and trading kisses whenever they felt like stopping and doing just that. Sehun was extremely enthusiastic throughout the night, slathering Luhan with affection of all types.
Luhan falls asleep to the soft hum of the television and the warmth of Sehun’s body.
He wakes to the soft hum of the television and a cold bed.
“Sehun?” Groggy, he peers at the bedside clock and sees that it’s barely 3 in the morning. Light form television casts everything in a frosty, eerie glow, and goosebumps rise all down Luhan’s arms. “Sehun!”
There’s no answer.
Scrambling out of bed, Luhan tugs on his pants and shirt, forgoing underwear and socks in his hurry. A check of the bathroom and the closet - it’s big enough to hide in - leads to no sign of Sehun, and when he heads into the hallway, he sees a wide open door.
“Shit.”
Luhan darts back inside the room for his phone and sprints out the door.
After an hour of running aimlessly through the streets, Luhan is close to panicked tears. Sehun had left without his phone, jacket, or shoes, and Luhan is petrified for his safety.
He doesn’t know what to do.
Out of desperation, he calls Amie.
Amie finds him roaming the streets, climbing out of her cab to let him know that the police have found Sehun and are in the middle of bringing him home. Luhan is about to thank her when:
“How can you possibly commit to a relationship with him if you have no idea how to take care of him? He’s bipolar, Luhan, not someone with a cold.” She sneers at him, eyes as cold as the weather is becoming.
“Tell me; do you really think he loves you? You can tell just as well as I can that he’s not well - Sehun gets fixated on things for a while, like a hobby, until he gets better and moves on. You’re a hobby, Luhan. He doesn’t love you, he just thinks he does. Why do you think I let him go so easily? He’s done this before. And every time, he comes back to me.”
She departs just as quickly as she had arrived, leaving Luhan a trembling, crying mess on the sidewalk.
Amidst all this chaos, Luhan doesn’t really know what led him to pick up the phone and send his mother the following message: Mom, I’m so sorry, but I’m gay. I like men, mom. I know that you believe in God and that the Bible says homosexuality is a sin, but it also says that God created everyone in his image and we’re all equally worthy. I’m sorry if I made you sad. I love you.
She replies three hours later with a simple you're my son, Luhan. ever since I laid eyes on you I have loved you, and I will always keep loving you.
Luhan retreats deep, deep into himself. He goes to school, eats with his boys, and goes straight home when the bell rings. Sehun is nowhere to be seen within the school’s walls.
The boys are worried, but Luhan tells them that he needs some time. Although reluctant, they agree and no one brings up the topic of Sehun.
He tells Saira to let Vera know that he’s leaving the club.
“Why?”
“It’s actually not the club,” Luhan says, not looking at her. “It’s who it reminds me of. Just - please, tell her I won’t be attending any more meetings and that I’m sorry. She’s running a great club and I’ve really enjoyed my time there.”
He can feel her scrutinizing gaze on the side of his face, but he jots down a note or two on organic chemistry and pointedly pretends he doesn’t notice.
It’s the 20th of the month, past dinnertime, and Luhan’s out walking through the streets. He’s got a styrofoam cup of lukewarm hot chocolate in his hand, almost untouched, but he holds on to it because it’s enough - for the moment - to keep his fingers warm.
The sky is a deep purple, speckled with a warm glow, and Luhan momentarily thinks about how Sehun would be the only person able to put this image down on paper with a brush.
At some point, he tosses the drink away and shoves his hand into his pocket. Two, three seconds go by and his phone vibrates.
Luhan, my starlight. I’m looking at the time and it’s almost 20:20. It’s the 20th. I’m sitting right where we were when we first met, and although it’s cold outside, I’m warm just by thinking about you. There are so many things I want to say, but I guess the biggest one would be that I’m sorry. For putting you in this position. I know that you said you were ready, but I’m too much of a burden even for the biggest hero to bear. I should have warned you, but I was so afraid of losing you. Turns out, I have managed to do just that anyway. At the very least, I take comfort in that fact that in another universe, we are together for all eternity. I love you, Sehun.
Towards the end of the message, the words start blurring together, tears pooling in Luhan’s eyes until they spill out and dot the screen with droplets.
He’s far from school, but Luhan doesn’t give the distance any thought before he turns on his heel and runs.
He runs until his muscles scream and his lungs burn, but Luhan feels anything but exhausted when he sets eyes on Sehun, sitting right there on the bench with a lit blunt between his fingers.
Sehun doesn’t seem to hear him approaching.
“You shouldn’t be smoking that,” Luhan says quietly, reaching out to pluck the blunt away once he’s close enough. Sehun jerks, head snapping up and eyes widening at the sight of him. “I did a bit of research and nothing’s terribly conclusive, but you should probably stay away from it just to be safe.”
Sehun blinks at him, eyes wet, and Luhan drops the blunt on the concrete ground. He kneels down between Sehun’s knees, trembling hands going up up up until he can cup Sehun’s face and pull him down to press their foreheads together.
“You didn’t lose me. I’m here.” He closes his eyes and Sehun sucks in a shaking breath. “You’ll never lose me, okay? I will always be here.”
He leans in, just an inch, and their lips brush.
Sehun is snoozing in his bed and Luhan can’t help the surge of warmth that arises when he sees Sehun buried in a pile of his own sheets. He’s been asleep for almost 12 hours now, but Mattéo says that it’s not abnormal if he’s in a depressive episode. So Luhan stays by his side and lets him sleep, leaving only to go to the bathroom or get a drink.
He’s in the kitchen slapping together a messy sandwich when someone knocks on the door.
Baekhyun and Luna are both out, so he half-tiptoes and half-skids to the door on socked feet, nearly stubbing his toe against the leg of a chair in the process.
It’s Amie at the door, looking somewhat uncomfortable.
“Hi?”
“Hello,” she says, fiddling with her scarf. “I, uh, couldn’t contact Sehun, so I was wondering if he’s here? You weren’t answering your phone, so I thought I’d drop by.”
Luhan blinks. “Oh shit, sorry, I think I left it on vibrate somewhere in the apartment. Yeah, he’s here, but he’s asleep.” Luhan points to the closed door of his room. “Do you want to talk to him? I’ll get him to call you back if -”
“No no, I just wanted to make sure he’s safe. I’m here to speak to you, actually. I wanted to apologise.”
A piece of lettuce falls out of his sandwich and they watch it float to the ground.
“Apologise? Why?”
“What I said to you was rude and uncalled for, and not exactly the truth. I lied when I said he’s done it before. He has never done it before, never left me for someone else. But I told myself that it was just another one of his delusions, because that was something I was able to accept. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
Luhan nods dumbly. “Uh, yeah, it’s okay. I understand. Thanks.”
She smiles at him, and although it’s awkward as hell, it’s genuine enough for Luhan to return it.
Just as she’s turning to leave, Luhan stops her.
“Do you have any advice?”
This time, her smile is bittersweet. “No, not really. You just have to… take it day by day, really. If that’s too hard, too daunting, then take it hour by hour. If an hour is too much, then take it minute by minute. Just as long as you’re there for him.”
Luhan nods, and Amie continues on her way.
When he finishes his sandwich and returns to bed, he finds Sehun awake.
He climbs into bed, pressing in close to Sehun’s side and failing to fight back the smile when Sehun burrows into his warmth. The guy’s bloody tall and cuddling someone who’s over six foot is tough, but Luhan does his best and is rewarded with a content sigh.
“Let’s just,” Luhan begins, brushing his lips across Sehun’s temple, “take it minute by minute.”
“Okay,” Sehun breathes. “Minute by minute.”
Vera welcomes them back into the theatre club as if they’ve never left.
They’re studying Forrest Gump this week, and Sehun’s neck-deep in a whispered discussion with the guy sitting to his right. Luhan’s torn between trying to listen to the discussion or simply watching Sehun talk - his face really does light up when he’s talking about films and it’s so endearing.
“You’re right, you know.”
Luhan turns to Saira, confused. “About?”
“Homosexuality being able to be explained by science. I did some research. I found a few interesting articles. I can link them to you if you’d like.”
Luhan chuckles. “Yeah? Sure, I’d love to read them.”
She nudges him in the arm. “You’ve been looking happier recently. I’m glad.”
“Thanks,” Luhan says, perhaps just a little touched.
Warmth brushes along the back of his hand and Luhan glances over to see Sehun’s fingers slipping into the gaps between his. Sehun squeezes once and Luhan squeezes right back, happy to let his boyfriend continue with his discussion as he turns his attention back to the screen.
Author’s Note: SKAM is infinitely dear to me and Even/Isak are so very special, so being able to write this is very much appreciated. I have changed a few scenes but I believe I kept most, if not all, that's important to their story. The individual scenes are short to keep in line with the format of the show, so I hope you don't mind that too much :)