[selu] 千万记得天涯有人在等你
千万记得天涯有人在等你; g; ~2700w
lu han-centric, sehun/lu han
bits and pieces of lu han’s life.
♔
one.
this is his earliest waking memory, lying in a small cot watching the fan blades spin, round and round and round. cyclical, never ending, drawing perfect circles with sharp, definite motions. growing impatient when he realises his stubby fingers will never be able to touch despite having tried so hard, crying and screaming in sheer frustration. his mother rushes in, worry lining her face prematurely, gathers him up in her arms and rocks him back and forth, coddling him as she pats his back and whispers terms of endearment into his ear.
♔
four.
all he sees is green, the endless expanse of field so large and infinite to a mere child of four. the black-and-white soccer ball with its hexagonal patches lies tantalisingly in front of him, taunting him, beckoning. besides him, his father smiles encouragingly, his tall figure and broad shoulders throwing an imposing shadow against the setting sun and lu han feels smaller than ever.
“go for it, lu han! just like how the players on tv do, you want to be like them, don’t you?”
lu han nods eagerly, focusing on the ball and narrowing his line of vision so that it consists solely of that spherical object. he runs forward, draws his right leg back, kicks out -
punt. the ball flies and lands a few metres away, not far off from its starting position, and lu han turns to look at his father, disappointed. yet the tall man only laughs uproariously, sweeps lu han up and places him on his shoulders and oh suddenly he is so high up and he can see so much more of the world.
“it was a good try,” his father smiles as he holds lu han’s little legs securely, making sure he won’t fall. lu han laughs, spirits lifted and buoyant, and clutches little handfuls of his father’s hair as he runs around, playing a one-man game with himself and pretending to score world cup-worthy goals.
they return home with grass stains on their knees and mud on their shins, causing lu han’s mother to screech bloody murder, but lu han is smiling so widely and there is a twinkle in his father’s eye that she somehow cannot resist, pecking lu han on the cheek before bundling him into the shower.
♔
nine.
at this age, this is what he holds most dear - scrimmaging in the school field with boys both younger and older than he is, all of them tearing desperately after a beaten-up soccer ball and screaming like ruffians and hooligans. lu han’s leaping, dashing, jumping, the ball seemingly attached to his feet as he darts down the ‘midfield’ and carries the ball all the way in front to the goalkeeper -
- but suddenly his feet are swept out from under him and he is going down in a heap on the floor, knobbly knees meeting the grass of the field as he skids and for a moment all he sees is black. and then yixing, the boy a year older than he who plays on the opposite team, is rushing over with a hand held out to help him up as he apologises profusely for his teammate’s mistake.
“sorry! zitao can get a little aggressive when it comes to team sports like soccer, he gets a little carried away -“
true to his word, zitao, the boy with worried eyes and a trembling lower lip, is approaching as he stammers “i’m sorry” and “i didn’t mean to” and “sorry for the tackle, are you okay?” anxiety causes the words to jumble themselves in his mouth and in that moment, lu han feels sorry for him.
“i’m okay! don’t worry about me, i’m okay,” he reassures zitao cheerfully, but the other boy doesn’t seem convinced, choosing instead to gape at his face and that’s when lu han feels it, the warmth and viscosity of blood trickling its way down the side of his face. yixing rushes over then, his face going pale and a certain seriousness settling into his eyes, even as he yells for zitao to get the school nurse. lifting a cautious hand to his upper lip, lu han watches it come away stained red and wonders almost detachedly about when it will stop.
the school nurse isn’t impressed, telling him that it’ll probably leave a scar and that he should be careful, playing around with these older boys who are so much rougher than you and yixing looks away in chagrin. he almost turns to leave the room, but lu han reaches out and grasps his hand with little fingers still stubby and short and yixing stays, smiling a little.
♔
sixteen.
time accelerates so fast lu han thinks he might just get whiplash; now lu han is sixteen, just graduating from high school with zitao and yixing and yifan, a chinese-canadian boy who had transferred into their school a few years ago and somehow squirmed his way into their friend circle and consequently all of their hearts. the world has moved on but some things stay the same - cautious, tentative spring where the daisies are just pushing up in the park nearby and the birds are returning; sweltering summer when the air conditioning is always on and they are always at yifan’s house raiding his fridge for ice popsicles; vivid autumn where leaves are falling in auburn scarlet gold rain and lu han’s mother knits them all scarves in the same shade of maroon; frigid winter where they slip and slide on sleet even as they try to bury zitao in the snow, much to his cries and pleas.
so much has happened in these few years. lu han’s passed his final year exams, become captain of his school’s soccer team, become a dbsk fanboy. the last one’s a little funny, he thinks, but jung yunho. the undeniable truth is that he’s grown up, even as he bends down to retie his shoelace for the sixth time because for some reason, he’s never been able to tie a neat loop and yifan’s always grabbed the opportunity to give him shit for it.
even as they parade around the school compound in their graduation robes and hold the graduation scrolls in their hands, lu han does a 360 degree view of the school in his mind’s eye, casting his vision over the grey concrete classroom and green school field he’d ran on so many break times. he thinks back to the large tree right beside the side gate of the school and how the four of them would always meet there after classes or to have lunch, about their tattered schoolbooks and even more tattered bags. smiling, he catches yixing’s eye and unwinds the spool of memories, letting it unwind around their feet.
♔
eighteen.
they go to different universities, but at least they still hail from the same town and at the very least they try their best to return home during breaks, revisiting familiarity and constancy. lu han looks out of the train window as it trundles along, bringing him back to assignments and project deadlines and stress even as it takes him further from light-hearted laughter and nostalgia.
when he arrives back at his university, the first thing he does is to lock himself in his dormitory room and face first onto the bed. just then, his phone beeps with a new message and he springs out of bed once he reads it, dashing out of the door even as he hurriedly runs fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it down.
from: professor jung
year-long linguistics exchange program to korea, yonsei university, in may. you are one of the shortlisted candidates. interested?
♔
(still) eighteen.
guys, i’m leaving for seoul ^^ i’m sorry and i know it’s on a really short notice, but it’s an exchange program to a really prestigious university and i can’t pass it up. but we can always skype call each other, don’t worry! i’ll be back after a year ^^
bastard, how dare you abandon us
eh, ge, don’t worry about yixing! he’s just jealous >_> have fun in korea ge ♡ we hope you meet your idols!
come back in one piece, lu han, you hear? take care of yourself and we’ll see you again after a year. okay?
♔
nineteen.
lu han discovers that one of his favourite things to do might just be traversing the streets of seoul with no concrete destination in mind. he and his roommate, minseok, often discover little gems like this, such as small food stalls tucked away in the corner of the alley or affordable eateries hidden by the looming monster of the supermall next to it.
however, even as they are wandering around one day during spring break, a lady stops both of them and presses a flyer into lu han’s hand. there is a number scrawled on it and urgency in her voice even as she tells him, “consider this. and if you want to take us up on our offer, the number’s right there for you to call.”
lu han glances down at the flyer as she rushes off. the large pink logo on it stares right back at him, taunting him as minseok sucks in a breath.
S.M. entertainment.
♔
twenty-one.
the first day after being accepted as a trainee, lu han steps into sm building cautiously. he still has no idea how he managed to make it in, simply going for the auditions on a whim, but now he’s here and well, best make the most out of it.
treading cautiously, he walks down the pristine corridor, when suddenly -
- “ow, fuck you jongin,” aaaand he’s on his knees, having been knocked down by a whirlwind of brown hair speeding through the corridors. besides them, a tanned boy with dark hair is watching with worry in his eyes, rushing over to help both of them up.
“sorry,” the culprit mumbles. “it was his fault, see, chasing me down the corridors wanting me to treat him to food again. hey, are you new here?” and suddenly the explanation ends, the other boy peering at him closely.
“yeah,” lu han replies confidently (he hopes. he hopes). “i’m lu han.”
the other boy breaks out into a shy smile, eyes crinkling. “i’m sehun.”
lu han eventually ends up following jongin and sehun out to the café nearby for pastries and coffee, laughing as sehun tells him tales about jongin much to the other boy’s displeasure (‘i’m sitting right here, you know’).
a spark is born that night, a spark that doesn’t die.
♔
twenty-two.
trainee life is hard. it’s a monotonous routine of wake up eat go for dance practice eat go for vocal training eat go for dance practice shower sleep. but lu han meets people who, to a certain extent, make things easier. junmyeon, the trainee who’s been there for five years, and lu han can’t help but admire his persistence. less than two years and he’s already feeling jumpy, nervous, a stranger in his own skin. chanyeol, the pretty boy with a wide smile and dazzling teeth, whose dexterous fingers can play the piano guitar drums and pretty much any other musical instrument he puts his mind to. kyungsoo, with the large eyes and arresting gaze that commands power despite his small stature. the boy jongin is always so shy around, blushing and staring at the floor mumbling his words even as sehun and lu han point at him and snigger. jongin himself, talented and sharp and a born natural, but lu han sees the fatigue in his eyes every time the music stops and the tentative hand he claps to his waist, fingers travelling across the skin of his waist, prodding and poking and untangling the knots of the muscle.
and sehun. sehun, the boy who crashed his way into lu han’s life, laughing and smiling and joking around with him every single day. the boy who squirms his way into lu han’s tiny bed at night, curling close even as he presses cold toes to lu han’s legs, causing the older boy to shriek in whispers and attempt to kick him away even as sehun holds him closer. the boy who, at the heart of things, is still a boy four years younger than himself, so lu han ignores his heart’s whispers and the hurt on sehun’s face even as he pushes him away again, choosing instead to sit next to jongin or chanyeol.
debuting, for some reason, comes without the expected fanfare or exhilaration. the six of them debut as a group, make waves with the song ‘wolf’, gain fans and popularity fast. the sound of the autotuned howling still sticks in lu han’s head at night, causing him to bury his head in his pillows (he actually has pillows now! and a large blanket!) and groan even as chanyeol throws his dirty clothes across the room and tells him to shut up.
♔
twenty-three.
they come back with the wildly popular song ‘growl’, shooting themselves from relative obscurity into top level fame. they also go on radio shows where the djs ask generic run of the mill questions about their newest song and they perform covers of other artistes’ music, vocal chords straining. despite the constant rush to make it to the next schedule on time and the cut in their diet and the increased intensity of their dance practices, nothing much happens.
except sometimes, sehun still comes and clings to lu han, heavy head resting on his shoulder in the car on the way to the next performance and the walls around his heart splinter, large cracks forming. sometimes sehun still knocks on lu han’s room door at night before he enters, and in the moonlight spilling through the window lu han sees the fear and insecurity in sehun’s eyes, almost as if he is saying i will leave if you want me to. and every single time lu han sighs, scoots over to his left and peels back the blankets and sehun’s eyes brighten, clambering excitedly in as if afraid lu han will change his mind.
sehun still holds him the same way he did so many months ago, despite all the push-pull-break-fission that has happened between them. and despite the care and friendship and something more that fizzes between them, pulling on lu han’s heartstrings, the ambiguity still eats away at him most nights.
like he said - nothing much has changed.
♔
twenty-four.
sehun has grown up now, height and broad shoulders eclipsing lu han’s own. they struggle to fit into their shared bed most nights and junmyeon offers to switch rooms with sehun, watching both of them nod sheepishly with a sort of fond exasperation. sehun has grown bolder, leaving tiny kisses along lu han’s cheek and forehead, and lu han wants - wants to claim this as his, wants to put a name on it so he will know for sure. wants.
but you are only twenty, he thinks sadly. but you are only twenty, four years too young, and yet…
and yet i still love you. the unfinished thought remains just that - unfinished.
“hyung.” the word startles him from his thoughts, lifts him from the reverie. and sehun is watching him, dark deep eyes and mouth set in that expressionless line. sehun inches closer until he is towering over lu han, who is still seated on the bed, motionless.
he should run, put distance between sehun like he once did and maybe his feelings will die down; but lu han knows that running never gets you anywhere and besides, sehun is a fast runner when the time calls for it. no matter how hard he runs, sehun will catch up one way or another.
“hyung, you know i like you, right?”
gentle fingers trace the scar right above his upper lip and perhaps in this moment, the world is just beginning.
fin.
♠ the title of this fic is taken from stefanie sun’s 《尚好的青春》;; it's a rly nice song
♠ so… this was written, in an hour, in a sad attempt to get rid of writer’s block and i think it shows sigh also i’m sorry!! bc there was no baekchen in here but i couldn’t find a way to fit them in;;;;
♠ i miss selu ;~; welp
♠ hit me up on twitter or sometihng