[sehun/luhan] i'll be your shelter (i'll be your storm)
i'll be your shelter (i'll be your storm)
sehun/lu han; pg; 2600w
lu han's the little boy who asks too many questions and sehun's the little boy who answers them all.
written for round 3 of selubration!
sehun is seven when a young boy moves into the empty house next door and changes his life. seven-year-old sehun doesn’t know that, of course; he’s merely ecstatic at the thought of new playmates whereas his older brother grumbles about having to ‘socialise’ even as their mother pushes them out of the house and makes them go over to welcome their neighbours to the neighbourhood.
sehun stands on tiptoe, trying his best to reach the doorbell, grinning in satisfaction when he succeeds and the resounding chime of the bell resonates throughout the house. pressing his ears to the doorframe, sehun hears light footfalls, moving swiftly as if running, and sehun yanks himself away from the door just in time for it to open, revealing a small boy with a pale face and sharp chin and dark eyes a lot like sehun’s own.
“hello,” he says without hesitation, cordial and polite and not shy at all. “i’m lu han, what’s your name?”
sehun tilts his head, studying lu han carefully. lu han rolls his ‘r’s and speaks with a slight accent, not obvious but still noticeable. something about it sounds different to sehun, although he can’t pinpoint what exactly.
“you’re not from seoul, right?” he blurts without a moment’s hesitation, as children are wont to do. his brother shushes him with a horrified look on his face but sehun’s already pressing forward quickly, anticipating lu han’s answer eagerly.
“we’re not from korea, silly!” lu han laughs and sehun wants to protest at being called silly but keeps quiet, afraid of offending his new friend. “we’re from beijing. china,” he adds at the look of perplexion on sehun’s face.
“ah,” sehun nods in understanding. “so that’s why you speak different!”
a quick glance at the stricken look on lu han’s face, however, tells sehun that he’s made a mistake and he immediately panics.
“different doesn’t mean bad, right?” lu han asks worriedly a heartbeat later, large eyes widening even further as they meet sehun’s, biting his lip in a nervous habit sehun will gradually learn to recognise.
“no,” sehun says honestly, hoping his earnestness will come across in his words. “no, different doesn’t mean bad!”
lu han smiles, relieved. his eyes meet sehun’s and they say a heartfelt thank you, with the blatant trust and innocence only a child knows.
✈
a friendship springs up between both of them after that, easy and natural. sehun often goes over to lu han’s house in the afternoons, kicking an old soccer ball around a backyard filled with overgrown weeds and dying grass. sehun’s lousy at soccer but lu han loves it, loves sprinting up and down that little patch of green and kicking balls ferociously at the makeshift goals, so sehun gives in and humors his new friend just for the sake of seeing the unadulterated joy on his face.
one day, sehun brings a small flowerpot over to lu han’s house instead of the spanking new soccer ball he promised. curiously, lu han grasps the ceramic object in tiny hands, turning it three hundred and sixty degrees even as his thirsty eyes rove over the vibrant yellow of sunflower petals.
“what’s this?” he asks, his interest piqued.
“it’s a sunflower, see?” sehun chirps happily, and for a moment lu han thinks sehun’s smile glows brighter than the sun itself.
“it’s a sunflower,” sehun repeats, his gaze bashful and his voice soft. his lisp is evident in his shyness and lu han has to lean closer, so close to sehun that they’re practically sharing the same inhale and exhale, heartbeats of silence mingling. “mama says it’s supposed to remind you to always be happy.”
(when i was seven, you gave me flowers. when i was seventeen, you gave me flowers again - roses, this time.)
✈
when the school term starts, sehun is delighted to find that both of them attend the same school. “we can even walk there together in the mornings! don’t worry, i’ll show you around,” he reassures, puffing his chest out proudly. he’s even happier when lu han agrees, eyes crinkled in a grateful smile even as his hands grasp sehun’s excitedly.
lu han ends up in sehun’s year at school even though he’s a year older, much to sehun’s surprise. he tags along with sehun mostly, suddenly looking cowed and much smaller in this foreign environment even as sehun tries his best to coax him out of his shell.
“hyung, they’re just like us! they like to play too, come on, we could be friends -” sehun tries for the nth time, tugging on luhan’s little arm with all the strength he has to offer, albeit futilely. lu han looks deceptively fragile, but now he’s digging his heels into the ground and struggling against sehun’s grip and not budging an inch at all.
“you could ask them to play soccer with you,” sehun tries as a last-ditch resort and is surprised to see the reluctance and stubbornness go out of lu han. he eventually ends up dragging lu han over to his groups of friends, proudly introducing him even as lu han scuffs his sneakers and mumbles more toward the ground than to the people he’s speaking to.
what sehun doesn’t expect, however, is for his schoolmates to suddenly turn on lu han, calling him names and making fun of his accent. horrified, he can only watch as they step up to him, enclosing him in a circle reminiscent of a pack of wolves circling before making their kill.
“i can’t understand you!” jinri says rudely, little tongue sticking out even as she steps a little too close into lu han’s personal space.
“you don’t belong here,” minho hisses even as he shoves lu han, knobbly shoulders taking the full brunt of the blow even as he stumbles backward helplessly, a newborn gazelle on wobbly legs.
“go back to your home,” soojung sneers, looking at him from beneath her eyelids in childish disdain. “it surely isn’t here!”
this is the day sehun discovers children can be horribly, terribly mean, even in naivete and innocence. coming back to his senses, he barges into the group and takes lu han’s hand, dragging him away and pretending not to notice the tear tracks trickling silently down his small face. they don’t say anything until sehun has relocated them both to a deserted corner of the school field, his safe place and hiding spot.
“i’m sorry,” he says softly, feeling the weight of the world sitting heavy on his tongue with no way to express it. reaching out, he tries to take lu han’s hand, to interlock their fingers together to provide comfort, but lu han pulls his hand away and the lost moment hangs like dead silence between them.
lu han looks like he wants to say i told you so badly, but represses it. “it’s okay,” he finally chokes, wiping his face violently with a grimy sleeve.
“sehun-ah, am i really that hard to understand?”
sehun’s heart gives a funny twinge, but his seven-year-old mind can’t fathom the reason why.
“no,” he answers. “i understand you just fine.”
lu han gives him a watery smile, lower lip trembling. sehun’s heart twinges.
“i understand you just fine, hyung.” he repeats softly, almost like a prayer. lu han looks away and doesn’t answer.
✈
“why don’t you love the rain, sehunnie?”
they’re thirteen and running through the storm, rivulets of rain slapping them in the face and puddles splashing across their legs, wind whistling in their ears and thunder clapping ominously in the far distance. everything in sehun screams that this is a stupid idea and he’s probably going to catch a cold. he thinks longingly of his comfy bed at home, warm showers and ramyeon, before looking to his left to where lu han is winding through the side streets gleefully, short hair plastered to his face even as his book bag flies out behind him. his uniform is soaked through and his canvas shoes are probably ruined from stepping into one too many puddles, but lu han looks so happy. it’s pure, unadulterated euphoria, the joy that comes only from doing something forbidden, from embracing the invincibility of youth.
they dash under a metal awning, seeking shelter from the deluge of rain once it becomes too much to bear. sehun stares at lu han futilely wringing out water from his soaked shirt, shaking himself like a wet dog in an attempt to rid himself of the water droplets, and laughs at the ridiculous sight even as he knows he must look equally as stupid.
lu han glances over, gaze soft and lips quirked up in a slight smile. reaching over, he grasps sehun’s chin in his hand - they are both drenched anyway, it doesn’t matter - even as he shouts to be heard over the storm, gentility and roughness contradicting each other.
“you see? you are always cooped up at home, but isn’t it beautiful like this?”
the sky is dark, heavy with unshed tears, but the only thing sehun can see is the sunshine in lu han’s smile and this is when he knows without a doubt that he is in love with this hurricane of a boy.
he’s head over heels and turning cartwheels, and maybe this is young love, puppy love, but sehun will chase this elusive dream for as long as he can.
✈
time slips forward in the blink of an eye, creeping away as quickly and stealthily as a panther in the heart of night, and before either of them know it, their paths have diverged over the turbulence of growing up. sometimes late at night, sehun feels the absence of lu han so keenly it aches, a certain dryness in his mouth and bitterness lingering on the tip of his tongue.
--
“hyung, why don’t you like me? am i too young for you? too silly?” and it slips out in a moment of impatience and despondence, perhaps the dourness of someone who’s long given up. maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’ll ruin their friendship from here on and lu han will push him away and laugh at him or even worse, avoid him. sehun is prepared for all of the above, eyes squeezed shut even as his breaths come irregular and anxious, hands clutching his knees as he curls into himself and waits.
“who says i don’t?”
in the time it takes for synapses to fire and neurons to compute, sehun feels warm lips brush his, a gentle pressure coaxing them open. sehun opens his eyes a crack only to see lu han’s blue jacket right in front of him and his eyes fly open; lu han’s face is way too close to his and sehun can see everything in great detail, from the slope of his nose to his long eyelashes, warm breath intermingling with his own. startled, he pulls away, only to be met with lu han’s own shock.
“i- sorry, i was too forward -” lu han gasps. his cheeks are tinged a very pretty shade of pink, embarrassment causing his ears to flush even darker.
“no!” sehun exclaims, not stopping to consider how eager he sounds. “no, it’s not that, it’s just - sorry,” he blurts. “i wasn’t ready. can we… can we try again?” he asks shyly, even as lu han grins and pulls him closer.
“come back here, you big baby,” lu han whispers mischievously. “you’ll have to bend to accommodate me this time though, you’re too tall for this shit.”
“gladly,” sehun whispers, drawing lu han closer before he stops thinking for a while.
✈
they’re out on a date, somewhere between the first and last because neither of them bothers to keep count. this constancy, this familiarity, is nice, is what both of them have been craving, and they couldn’t be happier. what lu han does know, however, is that it’s their fourth anniversary (fourth year of dating, fifteenth year of knowing each other probably) and sehun’s taking him out to a nice restaurant for dinner. sehun seems jumpy today though, shaking his leg and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of his car.
“hey,” lu han reaches across and places his hand on sehun’s own, grasping it tightly to quell the trembling. “don’t be nervous, sehun-ah, it’s just me.”
that seems to calm sehun down. “i know,” he smiles as he replies softly. “thank you, hyung.” he is silent for most of the ride there and lu han doesn’t ask why, seeing as how sehun already appears so wound up. perhaps after dinner, he’ll feel better.
sehun seems fine for most of dinner - they laugh and make jokes and exchange little stories about their day, but when dessert arrives he seems to get jumpy again. his eyes dart about the restaurant even as he fidgets in his seat and lu han watches, puzzled and a little upset. perhaps it’s not exactly dinner conversation, but he would like to know what is bothering sehun. before he can get the words out, however, sehun stands up, mutters a hasty ‘fuck it’ before reaching into his pocket and drawing out something small and square before sliding to the floor, right beside lu han’s chair.
the next few seconds seem to pass with extraordinarily slow clarity. the bustle and clamor of the restaurant seem to fade as lu han stares down into sehun’s earnest face, lips pinched together with tension even as lu han maps his way through sehun’s gentle eyes once again. it’s a peculiar scene: there is sehun, on bended knee, holding an open box containing a ring set with a central diamond that catches the dim lighting and sparkles brightly. the surrounding patrons are turning around in their seats to watch and lu han can feel himself blush, torn between using his hands to cover his face or run forward and plant kisses all over sehun’s face.
he opts for the latter. some questions need no words; similarly, some answers can be decidedly non-verbal.
✈
“papa, look! some people just moved in, we have new neighbors! can i go next door and see them?”
lu han looks over worriedly from where he’s seated at the dinner table, sorting through the day’s mail. “what if you bother them, darling? they might be busy unpacking -”
“oh, let him,” sehun laughs. his eyes meet lu han’s and the memories practically replay themselves without any prompting. beyond their son’s jubilant cry of ‘thank you, daddy!’, lu han thinks of a small boy, opening a large wooden door, and another equally tiny boy standing on the other side of it. he smiles.
“be good, okay?” lu han calls after him, but he’s long since disappeared, excitement carrying him out the door on short legs.
“who knows, whoever’s next door might just change his life,” sehun says. “it did for me,” he adds softly and lu han’s heart swells.
✈
deep down inside, lu han is still that little boy who asks too many questions. deep down inside, sehun is still that little boy who has answered all of his questions tirelessly, time and time again. however, present day lu han only asks one question, and the answer that sehun gives is the only answer he needs, for it is an answer that promises never to change through the seasons, through the years.
“do you love me?”
“yes. yes, i do.”
“always?”
“always.”
fin.
+ i'm sorry if this felt a little rushed otl ;____;
+ first (and probably last) fic exchange! but it was a rly wonderful experience nevertheless, thank you so much mods :)
+ sidenote: i guess this is goodbye for now :) x