Work Text:
<<I’m going to end your life with one of my business cards>>
Luhan worries the thick plastic straw of his bubble tea between his teeth as he thumbs across the screen of his phone to open the message. He doesn’t doubt it’s possible. Kris’ business cards are thick quality cardstock, sleek black and classy aside from the scorpion impression poised above his contact information that Luhan can’t help rolling his eyes at every time he sees Kris hand one over a polished desk to a potential producer.
Luhan knows it’s an empty threat, if only because with Luhan dead Kris would lose his livelihood and ability to replace the fancy cards he got blood all over. <<how is that incentive for me to come back?>> He puts his phone to sleep and slips it into his back pocket. Hopefully Kris will look so stressed Yixing will try and calm him down with forehead massages and then Kris will be too distracted fending him off he’ll forget to burst a blood vessel over Luhan disappearing.
Honestly Kris should be used to it by now because Luhan tends to wander off if not corralled onto a set by his ‘handler’. Chanyeol only got the job because he went to college with him and Kris so he isn’t afraid to be unprofessional and use his height advantage to physically handle Luhan to where he needs to be, hoisted over his shoulder if need be. The arrangement works well enough for Luhan though because Chanyeol has the attention span of a particularly dumb golden retriever puppy. Today Luhan had pointed out a stray cat and by the time Chanyeol had finished sorting through his warring emotions, excitement at the adorableness of its ginger fur and resulting despondency that he couldn’t try to play with it because of his allergies, Luhan had slipped off into the crowd with a hat pulled low over his eyes.
He knew he was testing Kris’ patience already, this entire project was ‘beneath him’ as Kris liked to say, and it was only made worse by the fact Kris had never taken to Seoul like Luhan had. Luhan made a mental note to see if he could have a case of Tim Horton’s coffee shipped to their hotel to make Kris feel more at home.
But Luhan isn’t scheduled for filming today anyway and it’s not like he needs the time to study the script. It isn’t exactly award winning screenwriting and Luhan’s parts consist largely of handsomely brooding in the rain rather than dialogue. The director’s only criticism of Luhan’s acting at this point was his accent and if anything was going to help his performance it was going to be this, wandering around the city, snatches of conversation and dialect filtering through his head as he mouths the sounds he can’t quite imitate perfectly.
If he keeps his hoodie pulled over his cap and his chin tucked down he’s more likely to be taken for a high school delinquent than anything else. It’s not the most relaxing but he’s learned from experience it’s best to keep his pace quick as he walks down crowded streets. As much as he’d like to loll his head around and take in everything around him, the brightly colored shop signs and the smell of meat simmering in street carts, he knows if he walks briskly enough he’ll be out of sight before anyone passing by has time to act on any spark of recognition his face flares in them.
Answering Kris’ text proves to be a mistake. In the time it takes him to check his phone and reply, standing on a street corner waiting for the signal to change with his guard down, there’s a soft tap at his elbow, a teenage girl in a school uniform bowing nervously with a phone in her hand turned so the camera faces them and the request of a picture. He nods with a soft smile while he’s cursing his guilty conscience that had compelled him to assure Kris with a response that he was well enough to be contrary.
He tries to look at it as a game. He had been careless and the girl wins for catching him on it, she gets the picture as the prize for winning. He doesn’t like to analyze it too much because it’s sort of morbid and vain at the same time if he really thinks about, but it helps him feel like he has more control over these things, when in reality he doesn’t always have the option of saying no.
He squints one eye closed and crosses a peace sign over the other as the flash goes off. He dips his head at her and tries to be on his way but it’s like blood in the water, he can see girls in nearby clusters whispering with hands over their mouths and less than subtle hand motions in his direction. Another flash goes off but Luhan isn’t sure from where and he doesn’t take the time to a look around. The crosswalk lights have gone through a cycle and there’s a flashing signal telling him not to test his luck but he hustles across the street and turns the next corner he gets to before ducking into a convenience store, heartbeat loud in his ears.
“Hello.”
Luhan squeaks as his head whips around, clamping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. He’s always jumpy after close calls like that but it’s just the store clerk staring at him from behind the counter with a half smile, thick eyebrows peaked in amusement. Luhan realizes he had sort of burst in here like he was being chased but there doesn’t seem to be many other customers so luckily he didn’t make too much of a spectacle of himself.
He nods and returns the greeting while the clerk quirks his mouth and goes back to flipping the pages of what looks like a textbook tucked next to the register. He doesn’t think he actually needs anything from the store but it couldn’t hurt to kill a few minutes, just to make sure it isn’t time so someone from that street corner walks past as he’s leaving.
Luhan takes the opportunity to chuck his dewy plastic cup in the bin by the coffeemakers, tapioca boba congealing at the bottom. He walks idly down one of the aisles filled with snack foods, bright colors on crinkly plastic packaging, and runs his fingers across the labels as he mouths the characters to himself, trying to make his pronunciation come more natural. He starts whistling to himself so he can’t hear the sound of his phone vibrating in his pocket against a handful of change. By the time he winds his way through the maze of shelves he’s rounding a corner and finds himself back towards the front of the store again, face to face with the sprawling magazine rack and well, face to face with himself to be more exact.
He’d done a cover shoot for a chic fashion magazine, stuffed into a starched turtleneck with flowers (which he was probably allergic to judging by the way they’d made his nose itch and eyes water) obscuring half his face, and one of the thick glossy volumes stares back at him on one of the racks. His eyes dart around and spot his own likeness a few more times and this queasy feeling curls in his stomach, like stumbling into a room full of funhouse mirrors and only being able to see distorted reflections.
There’s a television serial with a story profiling the show he’s in town to shoot, a promotional shot of Jinri, Sehun, and his own character splashed across the front page. The tag line alludes to the dark secret buried in his and Sehun’s characters’ childhood friendship and questions who ‘Seoyun’s heart truly belongs to’. (Despite himself he feels a little fond looking over it because this is probably Sehun’s first time being in a magazine and he’s developed a soft spot for his sour faced costar, likes the way he’s over familiar with him and isn’t afraid to punch or sleep on his shoulder and calls him ‘hyung’ with a slight lisp and tries to seem apathetic about most things but is actually heart-twistingly earnest.) If he squints he can pretend he can’t read the blurb conjecturing on how ill advised of a career choice taking the role was for Luhan.
Then there are the gossip tabloids across the bottom rack, most of the pictures cluttering the covers are grainy candids but as someone who spends half of his living watching himself, it’s not too hard for Luhan count the number of times he appears. One is of him and Jongin in the crowd of a football match the week before and Luhan’s mouth tightens at the sight, he tells himself he should be numb to it by now but a bleakness always creeps into his chest when he sees a memory he thought just for himself printed in syndication. Jongin is one of the only close friends he has in Seoul and their schedules had matched up enough for them to make the game, nothing eased Luhan’s stress like Jongin’s opened mouth guffawing and elbow in his ribs as they shit talk the other’s team. Luhan tries to skim his eyes over the covers fast enough that his brain won’t pick up the words. (There’s speculation on which Seoul nightclub they’d headed to afterwards with ‘Kai’s’ other model friends or if the ‘mysterious’ woman with them was Luhan’s new lover. It was Jongin’s sister. They’d spent the night on Jongin’s couch watching cartoons and eating enough junk food Yixing’s eyes had immediately narrowed at his complexion when Chanyeol shepherded him unbathed onto set the next day.)
Luhan snags a pair of giant cheap sunglasses from the carrousel rack standing next to the magazines and slips them onto his face. Then methodically, but as casually as possible, flips around every cover he can see with his face on it so the back page shows.
A throat clears behind him just as he’s fixing the last one into place, making sure the edges align perfectly so at a glance the display looks undisturbed. His hand freezes guiltily but he’s slow to turn, pivoting with his feet planted so he ends up with his legs crossed and hopes there isn’t too much of a caught out expression on his face. Or well what’s visible of it, the sunglasses have slipped down his nose and between that and the brim of his cap there isn’t much.
It’s the store clerk again and Luhan’s expecting him to look peeved because it’s probably his job to fix the display after some asshole messes with it but he looks more bemused and slightly entertained, like Luhan is one of the dumber clumsy animals at the zoo. “Don’t like magazines much?”
Luhan chews his lip for a moment, the guy is looking at him pretty intently but he doesn’t seem like he’s about to have one of those ‘oh shit I’ve seen you before!’ moments and Luhan doesn’t think he’s had a conversation with someone he doesn’t technically work with in about four days. Pronunciation practice, he tells himself.
Luhan shrugs as he focuses on untwisting his legs without toppling over. “Eh, it’s more this one actor,” he sidles over towards the register, plucking a red wrapped candy bar out of a low hanging box, “got this stupid looking face, kind of like a deer.” The guy makes a noncommittal noise but his lips quirk up a bit and even though his eyes flick back down to skim the pages of his book Luhan takes it as an opening. ‘Min Seok’ the little rectangle name tag pinned to his shirt reads. “Sorry about that, though.”
This time he earns a snort, “Don’t worry, it’s Baekhyun’s job to sort out that chaos.” Then he’s looking up at Luhan again, like he’s just realizing Luhan has one elbow propped on the counter to lean over it. This would be pretty long eye contact, Luhan thinks, if he wasn’t wearing tinted sunglasses. There’s a pause then Minseok says with a smile at the corner of his mouth again, “Your accent’s not bad.”
“Thank you,” Luhan tries to look like he isn’t preening too much and rips into the candy wrapper with his teeth, sputtering when a bit of plastic gets caught on his tongue. He flexes his jaw a couple times to try and get the taste out of his mouth but then remembers Yixing telling him he looks like a boa constrictor about to devour something when he does that and clicks his teeth shut together.
Minseok glances at him again and Luhan realizes he should either come up with something to say or a reason he’s standing there. He eyes the packs of cigarettes in a glass case over Minseok’s shoulder. He’s been good and hasn’t had a smoke in months, since Yixing had taken the pack he found in Luhan’s suitcase and broke each one individually in half off a hotel balcony, watching the tobacco scatter away in the wind while Chanyeol sat on Luhan until he subsided from screeching that he was going to snap Yixing in half.
Luhan traces a finger along one of the sticker advertisements plastered to the counter where it’s peeling at the edge, “Can I get a pack of Raison?”
Minseok’s brows are peaked when he looks up, “If you’re trying to look coy so I won’t ID you it’s not going to work.”
“Excuse me?” Luhan squawks indignantly, unsure if he’s more affronted over the implication that he’s not old enough to buy cigarettes or that if he was trying to be coy that was the best he could do. “I’m twentythree. And what, are you in middle school? Is that your first year algebra homework?” Minseok lets out a small laugh but doesn’t rise to the bait, he flips the book closed and slips it under the counter before Luhan can catch sight of the cover and reaches behind him into the tobacco cabinet. Luhan can tell he’s the taller of them but there’s a sturdiness in the set of Minseok’s shoulders as he twists around that makes Luhan think he’s probably older than his face.
“Alright prove it,” Minseok smiles gummily at Luhan as he slides a pack of reds across the counter and Luhan swallows nervously because it’s pretty stupidly cute and he’s only now realizing he hadn’t thought out this decision very far and that Minseok’s eyes are big and shaped like the almonds in the candy bar melting in Luhan’s hand. He tries to stare back challengingly but it probably doesn’t translate well through the sunglasses, especially when the tag hanging from the nose bridge is tickling his nose and making him feel like he needs to sneeze.
His ID sits in his wallet but the thing is, he knows once he takes it out the anonymity he’s enjoying will likely disappear. It’d been issued while he was filming his first major role, the one that had made a name out of Luhan and won him heavy gold statue awards. It was a sci-fi odyssey and Luhan’s character had extremely distinct hair, cherry red with intricately shaved patterns down the sides and Luhan hadn’t been allowed to cover it up in his ID photo. But his pride dictated he reach into his pocket and slip it from the card slot of his wallet.
He hands his ID to Minseok between two fingers and Minseok plucks it away playfully, letting out a little huff of air when he looks down at the picture and Luhan’s body gets tenser and tenser waiting for the spark of recognition. “I guess we all had that phase,” he thinks he hears Minseok murmur. Minseok looks up at him and waggles the card meaningfully, Luhan’s pretty much at a loss so he’s not sure what he’s supposed to respond to that with. “I can’t very well tell if this is you with the whole...” Minseok trails off there and makes a vague encompassing gesture towards Luhan’s face.
“Right,” Luhan scoffs to cover for the fact he’s a little shaky from what feels like adrenaline for some confusing reason as he reaches for the sunglasses, “you caught me, I picked it off my doppelganger on the subway.” An old woman makes a scandalized noise as she walks past Luhan’s back into the store and Minseok’s throat bobs as he laughs and greets the woman. Luhan bites his lip in slight embarrassment because maybe he said that rather loudly but folds the shades carefully together and places them on the counter, pulling his cap and hood off and shaking his bangs into his eyes with his fingertips.
Minseok’s eyes run down his face, flicking up and down between the ID, and Luhan feels like this is important. He’s still chewing his lips nervously and doesn’t know why he’s hoping so hard Minseok doesn’t recognize him. People do have tact sometimes but maybe there’s a real chance Minseok’s never seen any of his movies and doesn’t know who he is and Luhan reminds himself to let Yixing twist his arm super hard later for having such a douchey thought.
Minseok slides his ID back to him on top of the pack of cigarettes, “It’s ₩2,500.” Oh right, money. The victory hand gesture Luhan had put up is ruined when he has to fumble for his wallet again, shoving the candy bar into one of his cheeks so it hangs out his mouth.
Luhan slips the pack into his back pocket as Minseok opens the register, he’ll have to spend the walk back to the hotel strategizing how he’s going to hide them from Yixing. “I’m still older than you,” Minseok hands him his change with a glint in his eye and tacking on, “Luhan.”
Luhan bites off the chunk of chocolate wedged between his teeth, the sugar rush hasn’t hit him yet but he’s already feeling giddy, “Oh yeah?” He props his elbow on the counter again and rests his chin in his palm as he chews, “So tell me about yourself, Minseok.”
Minseok tilts his head as he reaches under the register to draw out the book he had slipped away before, “Has anyone ever told you your smile is sort of creepy?”
Luhan grins so hard his face feels like it might break, “Frequently.”
-
Kris is less than amused when Luhan manages to sneak away from Chanyeol during his lunch hour the next day. And the next, and the next. Yixing would probably be irate if he knew that Luhan was eating convenience store junk food everyday because, despite the fact he’s supposed to be playing a teenager, he’s not supposed to have greasy acne like one. When he gets back to set Yixing will probably jab him in the cheek with a makeup brush and interrogate him on his sodium intake but Yixing jabs him in the face pretty frequently so Luhan’s not too concerned about that as he slurps up a bowl of instant raymun.
Minseok lets Luhan eat with his hip propped against the counter next to the register, and Luhan talks to him between mouthfuls of broth when he’s not helping customers. At first it’s more Luhan asking Minseok questions about his life and Minseok humoring him to pass the time but by the second time Luhan returns the conversation comes easily and Minseok feels comfortable enough to flick Luhan between the eyes when he says something rude. He does ask Luhan about himself occasionally but never anything too probing, possibly because Luhan had gotten cagey and only said he was ‘in town for business’ and changed the subject when Minseok asked if he worked in the area.
Luhan learns Minseok is a student at the university nearby and the book he takes out to skim when the store is quiet is a textbook for one of his civil engineering classes. He tells Minseok he thinks it’s really interesting that he wants to be an architect and Minseok snorts like he doesn’t think Luhan is as earnest about it as he actually is. Luhan pokes his chopsticks around in his noodles, wondering what it would be like if he had gone to college, imagines tapping Minseok on the shoulder to ask to borrow his notes or get drinks after class to discuss the lecture. He’d like to know if Minseok got pink cheeked and fervent debating intro level ethics over beer and fried chicken.
Luhan listens to Minseok greeting a customer, smiling with all his little teeth, and is thankful that whoever Baekhyun is he’s apparently terrible at his job because the magazine rack is still carefully disarranged.
-
When Luhan walks into the store the next week (two cups from the bougie cafe down the street in his hands because the coffee in this place might as well be dirt water and he just thought maybe... well honestly he hadn’t thought about it that much but that’s pretty standard for Luhan) there’s no one behind the register. The shop isn’t usually too busy but it still seems a bit odd.
Luhan pokes his head around the corners of the aisles until he spots two guys wearing the same striped shirt Minseok usually does. One of them is fiddling with his fringe, using his cellphone camera as a mirror to see himself from different angles. The other is sitting on a couple of stock boxes with a leg propped on another, a magazine flopped open across his lap as he slowly flips the pages. It’s one of the magazines Luhan had turned around.
He swallows nervously as he approaches them, the coffee in his hands is black because he doesn’t know how Minseok takes his and they’re starting to make his palms warm and clammy and in not in the way they sometimes are when he’s here.
“Ah, excuse me?” Neither of them acknowledge Luhan at that so he asks a little louder, “I was wondering if Minseok was around?”
“Who’s asking?” The one reading doesn’t look up from the magazine as he says it but the other glances away from inspecting his teal bangs and his mouth drops. He starts poking his co-worker frantically in the shoulder while still staring openly at Luhan, who is beginning to realize he’s made a terrible mistake. “Ow! Fuck, Zitao, trim your nails,” the tiny blonde plucks an emery board off the shelf and chucks it at the other’s face but it just bounces of his cheek, “and what are you staring at?”
“Nevermind!” Luhan backpedals, “I can come back another time, you guys look busy I’ll jus-”
“Oh shit, no way,” his voice is loud and Luhan winces hoping it doesn’t draw more attention, he can see the ‘Baek Hyun’ printed on a name tag now that he’s turned around to look at Luhan.
“Hello?” Luhan ventures, “I’m Luhan.”
“Yeah, we know,” Baekhyun trips over himself as he tries to scramble up from sitting.
“I have all your movies,” Zitao breathes out, but he says it in Mandarin and the familiarness of that actually does a lot to calm Luhan’s nerves even though Zitao still has his phone in hand and Luhan eyes it warily.
“It doesn’t count if you pirated all of them,” he thinks he hears Baekhyun mutter but Luhan ignores that.
“Oh?” Luhan nods at him, switching into polite PR mode, “thank you, that’s very nice of you.”
Baekhyun’s eyes have gone from their original starstruck awed to something more shrewd, “...did you say you were looking for Minseok?”
“Um, yes?” But now he’s actually hoping he’s not around because he doesn’t think there’d be a way for him to salvage the situation without having to come clean about the being internationally famous thing.
“It’s his day off,” Baekhyun says slowly and Luhan’s pretty sure he just heard the camera shutter from Zitao’s phone go off, “how do you know Minseok?”
“The thing about that is...,” Luhan chews his lip wondering how much this damage control is going to cost him, “do you like coffee?”
-
Luhan buys their silence about his identity with two access passes to set and the promise of introductions to his co-stars. He flat out refuses to give Baekhyun Jinri’s phone number but tells him he can ask himself and adds buying her apology flowers to his mental ‘to-do’ list. Zitao’s only other request is that when Luhan comes to see Minseok he also spend some time talking with him in Mandarin. Apparently Zitao is in Seoul studying abroad and misses his first language something awful. Luhan agrees in exchange for a peek at Minseok’s work schedule.
Baekhyun eyes Luhan calculatingly as he explains how he would really appreciate it if they didn’t mention anything to Minseok about him but thankfully he doesn’t ask too many questions. He shrugs, “I hate fixing the magazines anyway.”
-
The next time Luhan hazards coming back to the store it’s with a hat pulled down low and in a pair of his own big sunglasses, just in case there are other workers Baekhyun and Zitao failed to mention. “We’re back to the disguise are we?” Minseok asks, sounding honestly curious.
“Just protecting my face from the harmful rays of the sun like a normal person, haven’t you heard skin cancer is on the rise?” Luhan refuses to acknowledge it when Minseok looks pointedly out the front window where the sky is grey and stormy.
“Right, a normal person.” Minseok hums as he counts the money in the register.
-
“Who are they?” Kris asks warily when Luhan shows up one morning with Baekhyun and Zitao in tow.
“Visitors,” Luhan offers, then amends at Kris’ dubious face, “friends. Be nice.”
Baekhyun and Chanyeol are getting on like a house on fire after only introductions and a few good natured insults immediately following. Baekhyun loops an arm through Chanyeol’s elbow demanding a tour and drags him off.
“Are they the ones who have been feeding you over processed food?” Yixing hisses in Luhan’s ear as they watch Zitao wander around the soundstages curiously, stopping every few minutes to take a picture with himself in the foreground.
-
Luhan catches Chanyeol grinning stupidly down at his phone the next day and when he asks who he’s texting Chanyeol says Baekhyun invited him to a noraebang group date with some of his friends. Luhan tries to swallow down his bitter jealousy at how easy and casually Chanyeol can make friends and remember that he’s not the only one living in an unfamiliar city. He isn’t the only one who gets lonely sitting in a rented room that isn’t home and feels like a prison cell half the time.
Luhan spends the night with Kris down in the hotel bar because sometimes it’s easy to forget they were friends before business partners and Luhan feels pretty awful when he does. Kris is never good at voicing when he wants company or emotional support and Luhan usually prides himself in his ability to read the subtle shifts in Kris’ angry looking mouth.
It doesn’t help when Sehun texts him the next day with a smiling emoticon asking if Luhan would mind if he went to lunch with his ‘friend Zitao’. Luhan realizes with a start that the two of them must be around the same age and doesn’t begrudge Sehun the freedoms of his relative obscurity. He does text Sehun some ‘helpful Mandarin phrases’ for making friends that are actually horribly vulgar come-ons.
<<nice try fetus face>> Sehun texts back.
-
Luhan files away little details about Minseok. How he always has blueberry flavored snacks, the apparently rebellious little sister he talks about with a private smile on his face, the way his eyes light up when he talks about postmodernist design. But he knows better than most people that small trivia like that aren’t what make up a person, a friendship. You can read in a teen magazine that Luhan likes solving rubiks cubes, that taro is his favorite bubble tea flavor, but that doesn’t make you any closer to knowing him.
Luhan could count the number of times he’s seen the lower half of Minseok’s body on one hand, the time he had stepped from behind the counter to help an old woman with a heavy bag and once to mop up a spill when a little boy dropped an uncapped bottle of juice that splashed everywhere. Luhan always opens his mouth to try some line asking when Minseok gets off or where he goes for fun but has flashes of them walking to the restaurant down the street for drinks, maybe he could chance brushing his hand against Minseok’s, only to be interrupted by someone asking for his picture and the question dies in Luhan’s throat.
“I just think it’s cool how they’re like, a useful form of art. People make homes and work in buildings, carve their lives around them,” Minseok is wiping down the smudges on the glass doored freezers as he talks and Luhan slowly moves down the line of them with him, always one freezer ahead tracing things in the condensation with his fingertip, crude footballs and the hangul characters of Minseok’s name, “And you don’t have to buy a museum ticket to see them.”
“You think other forms of art are useless?” Luhan asks idly around the icepop numbing his tongue.
Minseok makes an indecisive noise as he slaps Luhan’s hand away so he can spray the glass, “That’s probably too strong of a word. But I appreciate things better when they’re tangible.”
“You’ve never watched a movie or looked at a painting that made you feel something here,” he jabs Minseok in the chest to the right of his breastbone. Minseok looks startled at first but grabs Luhan by the wrist before he can pull all the way back and holds his hand captive with a smirk as Luhan tugs at it, like he just wants to show he’s stronger.
Minseok shrugs easily, “I don’t go to the movies often.” Luhan wants to question where he takes his girlfriend on dates then, he hasn’t mentioned one but this seems like an opening that would be a lot smoother than just asking. Minseok’s fingers are still around his wrist, their hands have drifted down to their sides and the hold is loose enough Luhan could slip out of it if he wanted. This is probably the closest Luhan has been to Minseok without the counter between them, thinks he can smell the waft of cologne from under the collar of Minseok’s work shirt. Luhan wets his lips to speak, watching Minseok’s throat move as he swallows. But there’s a crash and Minseok’s head rounds on the source of the noise.
Yixing is at the end of an aisle standing over a fallen display of dried fish snacks and bowing to a business woman apologetically. He kneels to collect up the mess of packages but still manages to grin blithely up at Luhan as he does it. Luhan feels his nostrils flare and eyes bug as Minseok drops his wrist to go help out.
Luhan approaches them slowly, getting there just as they’re righting the last of the bags and overhears Yixing apologizing for his clumsiness. “I can be kind of spacey and careless,” he laughs prettily with his dimple but cuts his eyes towards Luhan, “sometimes I even forget to tell my best friend about important things happening in my life.”
Despite looking a little thrown by that last part Minseok smiles good naturedly and assures him it’s not a big deal but it is and Luhan bares his teeth and aims a kick at Yixing’s shin that he smoothly side steps, tsking and snatching the popsicle out of Luhan’s hand. “Do you know how much high fructose corn syrup and red dye is in this?” He scolds in Mandarin.
Minseok’s looking curiously between the two of them, “I’d assume this isn’t the first time you’re meeting but honestly knowing Luhan I wouldn’t be too sure.” That probably isn’t a compliment but Luhan still preens at Minseok implying he knows him.
Yixing hums contemplatively, eyeing Minseok up and down and Luhan is so ready to stuff a hand over his mouth if he has to, “Yeah, me and Luhan go way back.”
“Well,” Luhan starts over loudly, “this has been fun but I think it’s past Yixing’s bedtime, he tends to wander off and I’m sure his babysitter is worried about him.”
“If you’re talking about Kris he’s-” Yixing starts but Luhan cuts him off with fake yawn and a palm over Yixing’s face as he stretches.
“And I’m feeling a bit tired,” Luhan grabs Yixing by the shoulders and swivels him towards the door despite his protests, “I’ll see you alright, Minseok?”
“You mean we-”
“No! Just me, goodnight!” Luhan throws over his back as he frog marches Yixing away from the possibility of blowing this for him.
Minseok looks a little taken aback and a lot confused but he shakes his head and calls back, “W- I mean yeah, see you.”
Yixing makes frowny sad faces at him as they walk back to the hotel but Luhan refuses to acknowledge them. They’re waiting at a crosswalk when Yixing says, “You were practically asking me to follow you, ditching me every other day without telling me where you’re disappearing off to.” Luhan worries his cheek between his teeth and admittedly feels a little guilty at that, especially if Yixing had just been worried about him.
The air feels heavy in his chest as he breathes out. “I like him a lot,” he knows Yixing had probably figured that for himself already but he bumps Luhan’s shoulder with his own comfortingly and Luhan smiles a little brokenly down at his shoes as they move over the pavement, “he doesn’t know who I am.”
“Oh, Xiao Lu,” Yixing murmurs, reaching up to pet his hair and Luhan buries his face dejectedly in Yixing’s neck until they make it back to the hotel.
-
“I’d ask how but I’m really not surprised.” Luhan sushes Minseok with a frantic hand waving in his face, his ears piqued for any hint of plastic rattling on metal.
Kris had called Luhan to try again at goading him into an interview that he had flat out turned down the day before. Luhan felt bad because he knew that was Kris’ job but he was sick of hearing the same questions over and over, veiled condescension and an almost blatant eagerness to take things said out of context. Everyone was looking for some big story on why Luhan had turned down blockbuster projects in favor of some cheesy melodrama television show. He’d heard drug problem, mental health issues, a lovechild keeping him in Seoul, when in reality it wasn’t anything newsworthy.
He’d been holding the phone a little bit away from his ear, walking through the aisles so Minseok wouldn’t overhear, mostly because there was a song playing through the store speakers that he liked but also he wasn’t interested in hearing Kris say ‘your career’ one more time because it was starting to sound more like disjointed syllables than actual words. And then maybe he had put it down somewhere because he needed both of his hands for something... he can’t remember what that something was now but he’s sure it was vital. If it was up to Luhan he would toss his cellphone in the Han and never look back but he knows it isn’t something he should just leave around for someone else to find.
“Hey Minseok...,” he had started sheepishly, walking his fingers along the edge of the counter, “could you help me find my phone?” He hadn’t thought much of it at the time when Minseok had slipped his own phone from his pocket and typed in Luhan’s number as he fed it to him, he was a little preoccupied imagining that selca Yixing had taken of him in a pair of Manchester United underwear grabbing his dick and flipping off the camera to send to Jongin hitting the internet. But now, as he dives for the buzzing he can hear from under a rack of various toiletries, the screen is lit up with unfamiliar digits and he realizes with a sort of ditzy thrill that this means he has Minseok’s number.
Later that night in his hotel room he lays in bed in the dark with his thumbs hovering over the screen, he thinks it would be too creepy even for him to save Minseok’s number because he hadn’t really explicitly asked for it, only got it on a technicality, and tries not to think too much about the fact that Minseok could just have easily reached for the store landline sitting behind the counter with him. He lets the screen go dark, tosses his phone onto the bedside table and rolls over to sleep.
He hears it vibrate a few minutes later while he’s still staring at the insides of his eyelids. Luhan considers ignoring it until the morning because it’s probably just Jongin asking him if he thinks his new dog will have bad dreams while he’s away or something. But Jongin is the type who needs someone to tell him not to worry before he won’t so Luhan huffs and reaches for his phone.
<<i’ll take a cup of that fancy coffee you like as a reward>>
Luhan almost drops his phone on his face in surprise but he’s smiling dumbly at the screen as he thumbs the ‘add contact’ button.
-
Earning his way back into Yixing’s good graces starts the next day with telling him all about this development because there’s nothing Yixing loves more than nodding along sagely to Luhan’s stories when they both know Luhan’s failings are his main source of entertainment. “I’d think you had done it on purpose except if you had it might actually be considered smooth so...”
“I am the smoothest,” Luhan protests absently but he’s mostly staring down at his phone, rereading the few texts him and Minseok have exchanged throughout the day while Yixing dabs primer across his cheekbones. It’s not much, just about how Minseok takes his coffee and Luhan joking that he’s not sure Minseok actually deserves a reward because he only sat on his ass while he ‘helped’. But Luhan feels like a teenager all over again, scouring every word for possible implications or meaning, wondering how far he can push his flirting (is saying ‘pretty ass’ too much?) without overstepping and being obvious. He’s better, debatably, at these things face to face when he can see the other person’s reaction and figure out where to go from there. With texts there’s just inflectionless words and an expressionless screen as he waits for responses.
Having Minseok’s number doesn’t really change much, but it’s the first time Luhan has any hint that Minseok might think about him when he’s not physically present in his field of vision and it makes their relatio...friendship, feel more substantive. If Minseok decided to up and quit his job tomorrow Luhan would still have a way of contacting him. Maybe Minseok would even contact him. Luhan imagines getting a text <<hey i’m not going to be around the store anymore, but you want to come over mine for drinks or something?>> and tries to choke down the yearning in his gut.
-
There is someone leaning in Luhan’s spot. There is someone leaning in Luhan’s spot against Minseok’s counter. Talking to Minseok. And he’s petite and cute and Minseok is smiling his gummy smile at him and Luhan is totally okay with this. Completely fine.
Luhan considers just walking past the store window like he hadn’t seen, feigning that he needs to run to the bank or...the post office, but there are two relatively expensive cups of coffee in his hands and he hasn’t learnt the Korean for ‘masochism’ yet.
He elbows open the door and tells himself not to act as territorial as all of his instincts are shouting at him to be. It could probably be considered a failure then, when he butts into their conversation with a loud greeting to Minseok and pretends not to notice the guy with the heart shaped mouth standing there. (Not a shape mouths are supposed to have, in Luhan’s personal opinion.)
Minseok seems to find this extremely entertaining, laughing as he snatches one of the coffees from Luhan’s grasp before Luhan can hand it to him with a careful brushing of fingers like he had planned. “Sometimes I think you’re so cryptic about your past because you were a feral child raised by wolves.” Luhan snarls and clacks his teeth together with a little growl, hoping that maybe being cute will make up for the fact that because of his terrible impulse control he was just rude to someone who is probably one of Minseok’s friends.
“So this must be... Luhan,” the, currently dubbed, mystery guy says slowly, he doesn’t look offended at all though his brow is raised and there’s a look on his face like he’s having a moment of mental clarity. Luhan belatedly realizes his own face is in no way masked and his body begins to tense up in anxiety. He’s managed to carve out a little comfort niche in Minseok’s store that he forgets that he’s immediately recognizable to a large portion of the Korean population. But the guy just looks him over speculatively and Luhan rethinks his, admittedly unfounded and jealousy fueled, negative opinion.
“Yes, my pretty stalker I was telling you about,” Minseok smiles winningly at Luhan over the rim of his coffee. It’s probably meant to soften the blow of being called a stalker but Luhan’s body has gone simultaneously numb and flushed because in one short sentence Minseok has both admitted he tells his friends about him and also called Luhan pretty.
“That’s a strong word,” Luhan protests weakly as he recovers and fixes his bangs over his eyes, only just remembering not to use the hand holding the scalding coffee. “‘Stalker’ I mean, as for the other one I prefer ‘handsome’.” Minseok snorts and reaches over the counter to flick Luhan’s ear, “Ow!”
“This is Kyungsoo, my best friend.” Luhan remembers how to be a person and extends his hand from where he had it defensively pressed over the side of his head. Kyungsoo takes it and looks Luhan in the eye and even though he’s smiling Luhan feels a little unsettled. “We go to the same university, he’s a music and film studies major.”
Minseok starts fiddling with the receipt feed on the register, muttering about paper jams, so hopefully he doesn’t notice the suddenly stricken look on Luhan’s face as his stomach clenches. “Oh,” he squeaks out meekly.
Kyungsoo’s smile looks even more amused now as he drops Luhan’s hand after shaking it. He points a thumb in Minseok’s direction, “It’s so frustrating with this one, he’ll never sit still for a movie but always wants me to walk around ‘building watching’ with him.” Luhan bites back the instinctual objection that ‘building watching’ sounds like an extremely endearing habit and nods in tight lipped feigned casual interest. “Something Minseok said the other day reminded me of one of my favorite movies, this space epic from a few years ago with this great score. It won a ton of awards and everything and he still refuses to watch it with me.”
Kyungsoo’s smile moves to smirk territory as Luhan wheezes then coughs to cover that he’s just choked on air, “More of a romcom type of guy myself.”
“That genre does have its merits,” Kyungsoo allows as he goes back to leaning against the counter. In Luhan’s spot, a small voice in the back of his head points out again, but it’s mostly drowned out by the ringing in his ears. Minseok is, thankfully, obliviously tidying things behind the counter like he mentally checked out of the conversation after the topic of movies was brought up.
“But it does tend to indulge too much in tropes,” Kyungsoo shoots a glance at Minseok before continuing on with his his eyes intent on Luhan, “like a character selfishly lying about their identity to a love interest when the truth always eventually comes out in the end.” Luhan settles his coffee down on the counter because his hand had started to tremble a bit and he thinks it’s a wonder he hasn’t dropped it. Kyungsoo has his chin in his hand, blinking at him with a wide eyed guileless expression as he watches Luhan’s reactions, “Or the best friend character who threatens something like ‘they’ll never find the body if you’re playing with him’.” Kyungsoo’s smile pulls big and heart shaped again, his eyes disappearing into crescents, and even though Luhan is slightly terrified he’s also dazedly impressed, “It’s all so cliché, things like that never actually happen.”
Minseok spritzes Kyungsoo in the side with cleaning spray as he goes to wipe down the counter but it’s Luhan who jumps, startled. “Hey, why do you have your threatening smile on?” Minseok looks between them suspiciously, “I already regret introducing the two of you. Should I be worried?” Luhan tries not to blurt out ‘yes’.
-
When Kris outlines Luhan’s obligations in the voice that implies there’s no use in protesting, he feels like a small child, the bubbling urge to stomp a foot or slam a door, and tries to remember that he’s actually the older of the two and should act like it. He’s an adult with a job and responsibilities that affect other people and shouldn’t need to be reminded of it. Luhan had always thought he was being clever by making a career out of something he did for escape but it was foolish to think it would always be that simple.
Filming of the show is taking a four week break while Sehun finishes up his requirements to earn his high school diploma and Jinri does a short series of promotions with her girl group. Luhan is to return to mainland China for an award ceremony that his last film has nominations in and then a press circuit following.
Luhan doesn’t understand the point of it, the release of the movie was almost a year ago and DVD sales have already started, but Kris says he refuses to let the Chinese media forget who Luhan is despite Luhan’s best efforts with their sojourn in Korea. There’s a stop in Changsha and Luhan tries to be happy for Yixing that he’ll get to see his mother, wishing they could skip over Beijing so the years old ache in his own chest won’t open again.
He debates telling Minseok that he won’t be around for a while but doesn’t know how to word it exactly. ‘Just a heads up I’m not going to be squatting in your workplace for a few weeks.’ And he doesn’t know how he’d explain it, he tries not to lie to Minseok more than he absolutely has to but saying it’s a business trip would only be making more questions than answers.
They’re sitting out in the flimsy plastic chairs in front of the store, a little table with it’s soft drink advertising umbrella between them. It’s dark but the neon signs of shops all down the street give the sticky summer air an electric glow. Baekhyun’s covering the register so Minseok can take his break, which basically means he’s sitting with his feet propped on the counter and his headphones in blaring the new Soshi album loud enough he can’t hear himself singing along.
Minseok had grabbed a couple of dented beers off the top of a crate the store had just gotten in and tossed one at Luhan, “I hope you’re a cheap date.” His smile as he said it was so easy and casual but it had Luhan freezing so the can thunked off his chest painfully before dropping into his fumbling hands. Luhan swallowed thickly as Minseok motioned his chin towards the tables outside with a raise of his eyebrows and a small curious smile.
Sitting there now with the beer between his hands, thumbs playing with the tab as they talk, Minseok is happily slurping down his own but Luhan’s is unpleasantly warm, he keeps opening his mouth to bring up his trip but then thinks better of it. Maybe it’s better this way he thinks, maybe time away is what he needs to get over the constricting thing his internal organs do when Minseok smiles up at him from under his lashes or his thin mouth pulls into a smirk. He thinks about Kyungsoo’s words and wonders how much longer he can keep being selfish.
Luhan pulls out his cigarettes. It’s still the pack Minseok sold him that first day, he’s not that sentimental or anything he’s just had to ration because Yixing isn’t above randomly sniffing his clothes, but the one he taps out is the last. He crumples the packaging in the fist he uses to bring the lighter to the end of it and is careful to blow the smoke away from Minseok’s face after his first drag.
Minseok’s watching him, leaning forward on the table with his elbows and rolling his can around on it’s edge in a ring of condensation, “It’s a horrible habit, you know.”
“Oh?” Luhan replies snottily as he pockets his lighter, “I hadn’t heard.” Minseok shakes his head and reaches out to pluck the cigarette from between Luhan’s fingers. Luhan’s expecting him to stub it out in his beer or flick it into the puddle near the curb but he brings it to his own lips and takes a pull with his palm cupped around the ember. Minseok laughs at the open mouthed startled look on Luhan’s face as he leans back and slumps down in his chair, one of his hands coming up to crumple the hem of his shirt and scratch his at his stomach. Like this his legs splay under the table and Luhan feels one of Minseok’s heels nudge up along his then then hook around it.
Luhan stares at his shaky fingers toy with his beer can to keep from watching the way Minseok’s throat bobs because the raw want curling behind his rib cage is so strong it feels like it would be gleaming blatantly in his eyes. He shifts his foot against Minseok’s to savor the contact and wonders if three weeks will be enough to calm the thudding in his chest.
-
He’s been in China for six days and Luhan’s not sure if the itch under his skin is from the sugar withdrawal now that Yixing’s hawkeye is back on his nutrition or... something else. He hadn’t let himself hope for anything but can’t help his hand from drifting to his pocket to check for nonexistent texts, his body so tense in interviews he feels phantom vibrations against his leg.
Maybe Luhan wasn’t the first stray Minseok had come across in the course of his convenience store shifts. Maybe in a few weeks Luhan will just be a vague memory among a number of vagrants passing through and if Minseok does ever see one of his films Luhan’s face will only give him a sense of déjà vu that he’ll shake in a minute’s time.
“Television is what made fall in love with acting,” Luhan says tightly, giving the same answer he has the past three interviews in a row, “so it’s something I’ve always wanted to try. I think it’s an extremely valuable form of media because it allows people to connect more with characters than is feasible in the short time of a film.” Luhan does his best to smile genial at the camera, “When I was little I would pretend each obstacle I faced was just the conflict of that week’s episode and if I just endured things would turn out for the best.”
-
It comes when they’re boarding a plane for Qingdao two days later. The message ID says ‘Minseok’, Luhan going a little lightheaded and wobbly with hopefulness looking at the screen, but when he opens it it’s a picture of Zitao gazing forlornly at the camera like a lost puppy. Another message alert pops up while Luhan’s hands are still clutched around his phone.
<<i think he misses you>>
Luhan can feel some of the strain in his shoulders loosening, buoyant even though he's slightly disappointed. The flight attendants come around checking for electronics and it’s enough incentive for Luhan to power his phone off and pretend he doesn’t have any desire to respond.
By the time they’re settled in their hotel near the coast it’s nearly six hours later before Luhan turns his phone on. It beeps with emails and texts, a few from Jongin and Sehun. Luhan opens the one labeled ‘Minseok’ first. The picture's lowlit and a little grainy like it was taken in the dark, but Minseok’s features are clear, he’s frowning and his eyes look big and sad, pushing out his lower lip dramatically. He’s not in his uniform shirt and it looks like there are pillows behind his head, like he took it in his bed.
His body suffuses with wriggling heat as he chews his lip and stares down at the picture, toes curling at the intimacy of it.
<<he might not be the only one>>
Luhan presses a finger to the ‘reply’ button.
-
In retrospect he had it coming. Pain jolts down Luhan’s spine as he clutches at his face and his eyes sting. Yes, he thinks, I probably deserve this.
Bartering with Baekhyun for Minseok’s class schedule was probably entering dangerous ‘stalker’ territory even for Luhan, but in his defense, Baekhyun had been baiting him. When Luhan had shown up during Minseok’s usual late afternoon thursday shift, he hadn’t been expecting a ‘welcome back’ banner and streamers or anything but it would’ve been nice if Minseok was at least there, maybe with a wonky smile and cajoling banter concerning Luhan’s travel worn appearance he could tell himself meant ‘I missed you’.
Instead what he gets is Baekhyun sprawled out across the counter with his head propped in his palm so his cheek is all mushed out of shape while he doodles a handlebar mustache and an eye patch on the cover of a magazine. Which on closer inspection is a picture of Luhan’s face.
“So good to see you, Baekhyun,” Luhan greets saccharinely. Baekhyun glances up at him slowly but doesn’t bother to look guilty and his marker continues to scribble along the curl of the mustache. Ever since he had started to hang around with Chanyeol at their temporary residence in Seoul he’d quickly lost the starstruck expression around Luhan, right around the time he’d witnessed Luhan and Yixing stumbling back from the hotel bar so Luhan could be sick in the kitchen sink while Yixing made vague soothing motions behind his back, murmuring little chiu chiu chiu noises.
Baekhyun wriggled his nose, sitting up as his face stretched in a yawn, “Look! I came up with a new way to keep Minseok from seeing these.” Baekhyun smiled serenely as he gave Luhan nose hairs and grotesquely drawn acne, “Vandalism!”
Luhan wondered if he could come up with a nonchalant way of demanding where Minseok was and why he wasn’t there. He hadn’t told him he was coming back today but it didn’t help Luhan from feeling like he’d been stood up, though it was pretty typical that his attempts at surprising people went poorly.
“You know,” Baekhyun began, all falsely casual, “there has been an awful lot of speculation in the tabloids recently that you have some secret Korean mistress.”
“I would say I’m surprised you read that garbage, but you chose to befriend Chanyeol so I already know you have questionable taste,” Luhan cuts in smoothly but Baekhyun just makes a face at him and carries on.
“I was just going to say that I might have information on the whereabouts of said mistress if there were any parties,” Baekhyun looks at Luhan significantly here so he knows he doesn’t like where this is going, “that might be interested in said information.” Luhan peaks an eyebrow challengingly, at which point Baekhyun slides his cellphone across the counter towards Luhan. It’s open to a new contact page and ‘Choi Jinri’ is already filled in the name space, “For a price.”
Luhan has an internal war of morals, granted it doesn’t last very long but it happens which he feels should count for something. It’s just it’s been so long and he just wants to see Minseok and maybe even manage a hug or some other form of physical contact if he plays his cards right. But he also wants it to be a surprise because, it might be his bloated sense of self importance, but he want to see how Minseok reacts. If he can’t help his face from breaking out in a smile or if his eyes get big and round in excitement.
Baekhyun snaps his fingers in Luhan’s face, nudging the phone closer to him meaningfully, and Luhan finds himself fishing his own phone out of his pocket with a sense like he’s signing a deal with the devil.
-
Luhan does wish he could be there though, when Kris starts getting texts from a mysterious, and very possibly lecherous, suitor. But he’s currently occupied waiting on a street corner, the corner which Baekhyun assures him Minseok will have to walk past on his way home from the special seminar at his university he had taken off work for.
The building storefront on the corner is recessed and Luhan tucks himself a little farther into the alcove, pulling his hood down farther over his face as he checks the time. He’s hoping he and Baekhyun hadn’t double crossed each other so that he’s standing on a random patch of sidewalk risking being mobbed while Minseok was actually just doing stock inventory in the backroom...shit he hadn’t even thought about something like that at all, Minseok’s usually at the counter so he had just assumed, it’s not like he had any high ground to stand on but if Baekhyun was playing with him he was going to wish-
It all happens very quickly. There’s a familiar pair of worn in looking jeans and head of spiked up hair walking by and Luhan cuts himself off mid-mental threat to reach out, calling ‘hey you!’, and grab Minseok’s elbow to get his attention before he passes by. And then that elbow is swinging around to clip Luhan in the face.
Which is where Luhan is at now, hunched over in pain making pathetic keening noises and hoping his nose isn’t broken because Yixing is going to murder him if he has to waste make-up covering a black eye for the next week. There’s a little red smeared on his fingers when he pulls them away, wondering what the wet warmth on his lip is. “Ow,” he moans dumbly.
“Oh shit, shit,” Minseok is chanting and he has his hands out placatingly like Luhan is a spooked animal when admittedly Luhan is actually the one who spooked him. “Fuck, I’m so sorry none of my friends usually grab me like that so I wasn’t expecting it and this isn’t the best neighborhood and my body just sort of reacted, fuck Luhan, I’m sorry.”
Luhan tries to focus on his breathing as his vision comes back from being white around the edges, it’s just involuntary watering but he still doesn’t really want Minseok to see him crying. “It’s okay just,” he sinks back against the wall for support and so they make less of a spectacle in the middle of the sidewalk, “just give me a minute.” He leans his head back as he pokes at the bridge of his nose and whimpers a little at the ache. This is what he deserves for being a creep.
“Hey,” Minseok steps closer to Luhan cautiously, he still has his hands extended but now they’re reaching up towards Luhan’s face, “let me...” The toes of Minseok’s sneakers bump against Luhan’s as he gets close enough he’s almost standing in the space between Luhan’s legs. Like this his eyes are pretty much level with Luhan’s nose so it seems unnecessary when he fits a palm to Luhan’s jaw to tilt it. Luhan swallows and decides not to point this out.
Minseok’s thumb finds the bridge of Luhan’s nose, stroking over it but not pressing, as his other hand cradles the side of Luhan’s neck and Luhan’s pulse goes erratic. “I don’t think it’s broken,” Minseok says like he has some experience with these things. His eyes are focused as they run over Luhan’s face like he’s checking for collateral damage but his thumb is indolently running along the bone of Luhan’s cheek. It’s not where Luhan’s hurting but the ghosting touch is making it hard to remember why he’s even in pain.
“Well, that’s good.” Luhan tries to smile but the muscles around his mouth feel all faltering and hesitant. Minseok’s eyes drop to the movement and then he’s ducking his head like he’s guilty of something. Luhan realizes if he reached out right now his hands could settle on Minseok’s hips. It would be so easy. His fingers twitch into a curl but then Minseok’s mouth is crumpling apologetically.
“Sorry about your shirt though,” Minseok’s hands drop from Luhan’s face, he taps Luhan’s collar right under the hollow of his throat on the way down. Luhan tries to look at the spot but it’s right under his chin and he probably looks like an idiot in his attempt. “There’s some blood,” then Minseok’s laughing, “c’mon my apartment’s only a couple blocks away. I can’t let you wander the streets like this you already look crazed half the time, you’ll probably get arrested if someone sees you covered in blood splatter.”
Minseok nods his head in the direction he had been going then starts walking and Luhan follows after a moment of dazed silence, only just remembering to pull his hood over his head. Apparently Minseok trusts enough that he’s not a serial killer to invite him to his apartment so Luhan tries not to ruin it by smiling maniacally, pressing a hand over his mouth to keep the corners from lifting. It’s a short walk like Minseok said it would be but Luhan still manages to work up the nerve to brush his hand against Minseok’s and it almost feels like Minseok grazes his knuckles back.
-
Luhan rubs one of his socked feet against his ankle, standing in the middle of the living room of Minseok’s apartment. Minseok’s in his bedroom and he’s calling something to Luhan through the open door but Luhan’s too busy looking around in poorly contained curiosity to listen. Luhan’s surprised to see that Minseok actually does have a TV, there’s an older but functional looking set on top of a respectable DVD collection. But maybe that has something to do with the roommate Luhan’s heard about but hasn’t met.
The room’s neat and tidy, it’s a cramped college apartment but everything’s clean and there aren’t any dishes in the sink, shelves with architecture photobooks in a line and framed photos dotted around. Luhan leans conspicuously closer to try and see one better, wobbling on his toes, even though he can tell neither of the people in the shot are Minseok. It looks like a picture from a party, dark and a little blurry but the white of a smile shining out. One of the guys is passed out but there’s a small little grin on his face like he’s faking it while the other is laughing and holding him up with arms wrapped around his chest. There’s one next to it of what looks like Kyungsoo and Minseok at their high school graduation, Kyungsoo’s chin hooked over Minseok’s shoulder giving a peace sign. Minseok’s smiling huge and his cheeks are all bunched up and Luhan can’t help the tinge of fondness in his chest, hand reaching out to pick up the frame. But he’s hit in the face with a shirt before he gets to.
Luhan catches the shirt before it hits the floor, it’s a soft worn in t-shirt. Minseok’s standing in the doorway of his room, leaning against the frame and smirking at Luhan, “I’ll pretend I didn’t see that.”
Taking the hint, Luhan tries to be casual about stripping off his own shirt and doesn’t read anything into the way Minseok’s eyes slant away as he does it. Luhan smiles beatifically when he manages to struggle into the borrowed shirt. “And I won’t pretend I didn’t see that,” pointing at the picture with his thumb. He’s pleased with himself for the quip for all of a minute then Minseok crosses his arms over his chest, he’s wearing a tank top and Luhan’s breathing seizes up.
“I’d smack you but seeing as I already drew blood today I should probably lay off that,” he’s joking but his face looks genuinely apologetic and Luhan wants to tell him it’s okay, maybe with a comforting hand on his thigh. Luhan tells himself to focus as Minseok nods towards the TV, “I’ll even watch a movie to make it up to you.”
Minseok goes to get them glasses of water and tells Luhan to pick out a DVD. Luhan scans the collection, he notices a few of his own and carefully avoids those, selecting a mind heist thriller with a lot of pretty architecture he thinks Minseok will appreciate. “I can never understand why Jongdae spends money on those things,” Minseok says from the kitchen as Luhan puts in the DVD and settles on the couch hesitantly, “him and Joonmyun seem to put them on just to have background noise while they make out.” Luhan tries not to have a visible reaction to the two masculine names but he goes carefully still, mind whirling over if that means something about Minseok himself but getting caught up on ‘Minseok’ and ‘make out’.
Minseok puts the drinks on the table and slumps down on the couch close enough to Luhan he can feel the seeping warmth from his skin against the cool of the aircon, goosebumps going up Luhan’s arm. Luhan is broader in the chest than Minseok, but Minseok likes his clothes to fit baggy so the borrowed shirt fits snug across his shoulders and he almost thinks he can sense the tang of Minseok’s cologne coming from it. The lights aren’t on and the sun’s going down and there’s a thump in Luhan’s chest at how comfortably intimate this feels despite the buzz under his skin.
It’s a good movie, exciting and engagingly interesting, but Luhan’s seen it before and is mostly preoccupied staring at the spot where his and Minseok’s knees keep brushing every time Minseok shifts in his seat. More than once Luhan’s hand makes a motion as if to rest on Minseok’s leg or curl around his shoulder but Luhan catches himself in time, reaching for his water instead and Minseok just glances at him from the side of his eye.
About halfway through, the plot twisting and the action starting to pick up, Luhan looks at Minseok meaning to ask if his opinion on movies is shifting at all. But Minseok’s looking back at him and Luhan feels caught out and off kilter as their eyes meet. They’re quiet for a moment, there’s an explosion on screen and Luhan can see the plume of fire reflected in the light of Minseok’s eye. He opens his mouth on a question. Minseok beats him to it. “You can kiss me, you know,” he says quietly, intent, “if you want.” Minseok says it plainly like it’s any other fact about himself he’s shared with Luhan. ‘My family name is Kim, I’m blood type B, I wouldn’t push you away if you tried to kiss me.’ But there’s a nervous bob to his throat that belies him, Luhan only catching it because his eyes have dropped to Minseok’s lips.
Minseok turns back to the film like that’s the end of it, like nothing’s changed, but one of his hands slips over and curls around Luhan’s knee. Luhan makes it about a minute, staring dazedly at Minseok’s fingers nonchalantly running along the curves of his bone, before he breaks.
He leans in so quick he almost bumps their foreheads together but Minseok’s ready for him, leaning back enough with a small grin to compensate for Luhan’s eagerness. Luhan’s eyes are half lidded, looking at Minseok’s mouth from this up close, and he almost asks ‘can I?’ before he remembers he already has permission. Minseok’s fingers tighten on Luhan’s knee as Luhan catches his mouth with his own.
It’s gentle at first, Luhan still afraid if he moves too suddenly whatever this is will be gone like waking at the climax of a dream. Minseok has no such qualms, pressing into Luhan’s space, his hand moving from Luhan’s leg to along the back of the couch and the other cupping under Luhan’s jaw, opening him up for the push of Minseok’s tongue against his lips.
Luhan mewls at the glide of it, heat blooming in his gut and his fingers coiling up in the hem of Minseok’s tank, his knuckles grazing the skin of Minseok’s stomach. They pull back for a breath, something twisting in Luhan’s belly at the way Minseok’s cheeks are flushed and his pupils blown and black. Then Minseok’s crowding forward, easing Luhan into the couch cushions as he licks back into his mouth. Their legs tangle at first before Luhan manages to slot one between Minseok’s and they fit together easily then. Minseok keeps his weight on one of his elbows and Luhan’s neck cranes up to get at his mouth, sucking Minseok’s bottom lip between his own and fingers feeling out the lines of Minseok’s body through his shirt.
One of Minseok’s hands stays cradled around the corner of Luhan’s jaw, his fingers stroking over the sensitive skin under his ear, making Luhan feel shivery all down his body. They kiss sedate and exploring, eager but controlled, Luhan’s heartbeat drumming in his chest. He runs a foot up Minseok’s calf, toeing under the hem of his pant leg and can feel the curling of Minseok’s smile. Luhan grins back giddily and slips a hand into one of Minseok’s back pockets and squeezes. Minseok huffs air that tingles against Luhan’s spitslick lips. Luhan noses against Minseok’s cheek, pressing a kiss to Minseok’s brow, the skin under his eye, the tip of his nose. Minseok snarls playfully, nips at Luhan’s lips then soothes with his tongue. Luhan’s nails scritch against Minseok’s scalp as they go back to languid heady kissing, the scent of Minseok’s cologne muddling up Luhan’s senses.
The lights flick on.
“...don’t let that Minho douche get in your head, I’m sure your presentation went great. Either way it should be an automatic A just for how fuckable you looked in those pants... yeah, if you come over later I’ll-” Minseok groans, head thunking down against Luhan’s collarbone, breathing all billowy with Luhan breathless to match, and the lewd promise stops halfway. “Wait, babe, hold on I hear heavy breathing and fornication noises coming from the couch. I think Minseokkie might’ve finally brought home his pretty stalker.” Luhan sees Minseok wince and thinks it’s cute even though his heart feels like it’s dropped to somewhere in his intestines and he’s frozen in dawning panic. Also he thinks ‘fornication’ is a strong word because he had only just started to work his fingers at the buttons of Minseok’s jeans before the interruption.
“I swear to god, Jongdae, if you come over here….” Minseok starts. Luhan debates just pretending to be bashful and hiding his face in Minseok’s neck until his roommate disappears, it’s an inviting idea especially because he hadn’t even gotten to suck any marks there yet, but before he gets a chance a head pops over the back of the couch.
“Hell-lo….oh.” There’s still a phone pressed to Jongdae’s ear but his fingers look like they’ve gone a little slack and Luhan really hopes he’s not about to get a cell phone dropped on his forehead on top of what he already knows is coming. Luhan can still hear the muffled, “No fucking way, are you-” when Minseok reaches back blindly with one of his hands to try and palm Jongdae’s face out of Luhan’s line of sight.
Minseok looks confused when Luhan starts to wriggle out from under him desperately. “Just ignore him, that’s what I do most days, we can go to my room if you want,” Minseok offers and Luhan throws a longing glance through the doorway where he can see Minseok’s bed all neatly made up with soft looking sheets that probably smell like Minseok and wants.
“I… um, n-no that’s alright. I actually just remembered I have something in the morning,” Luhan’s on his feet now, trying to think straight. Minseok’s staring up at him from his back on the couch with an injured little furrow in his brow and Jongdae’s gaping open mouthed, a tinny voice asking “Jongdae...Jongdae?” from the forgotten phone in his hand. It feels like Luhan’s chest is crumbling in on itself in pieces. He bends forward, allowing himself a hasty kiss pressed to the corner of Minseok’s mouth, “I’m sorry.” And then he’s fumbling into his shoes by the door, forgetting to grab his bloodied shirt and his jacket.
-
Luhan’s phone buzzes in his pocket before he gets back to his hotel. He brushes past people gawking at his face and asking for a picture, not caring if they go home and post about how rude is on every social media platform that exists. Luhan makes it past the doorman and into the elevator before it buzzes again and he gives in.
<<jongdae just slapped me over the head with a magazine>>
<<it was thick. and hurt. and i feel like this is mostly your fault>>
<<so apparently i’m your mistress??>>
Luhan feels his mouth do something that could probably pass for a smile. Minseok makes everything seem so dangerously simple, like Luhan’s making things more complicated than they need to be. But in the quiet of the elevator it’s easy for Luhan to get lost in his own head. Imagines going out to dinner, chancing reaching for Minseok’s hand under the table. Then thinks about what being seen with Luhan would do to Minseok’s life, if cameras would follow him to his classes, his parents' house.
He decides it’s time for him to stop being selfish and switches off his phone.
-
There’s a knock the door of his suite and Luhan debates putting on a shirt before answering it. It’s probably just the concierge with coffee, they’re night filming today so Luhan doesn’t need to be at set until later. He’s taken advantage of the morning to sulk and try and come up with an excuse for when Kris asks him why his phone’s been turned off since last night.
When he opens the door Minseok is standing there and Luhan tells himself if he ever sees Kyungsoo again they’re going to have a conversation about the realisms of romcom plot devices. “Morning,” Minseok says with a raised brow, eyes flicking to Luhan’s exposed nipples then to his face with a grin. It does make Luhan feel a little better knowing that Minseok isn’t looking away just for the sake of Luhan’s modesty, tries not to be too pleased with himself that Luhan shirtless might do something for Minseok.
“Morning,” Luhan croaks.
“Baekhyun says ‘hi’,” Minseok tells him as he walks into the room without needing to wait for an invitation. “Well,” he amends, spinning on his heel to face Luhan as Luhan shuts the door slowly in a daze, he’s napped most of the morning and his brain is having trouble processing how it should be reacting right now, “actually he told me to tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“That sounds about right,” Luhan grabs a dirty shirt off the floor to shimmy into, abashed at how filthy his room is compared to Minseok’s tidy little apartment.
“When you didn’t respond to any of my texts last night,” Minseok starts and Luhan thinks inanely he wishes he had gotten to wash his face before they had this conversation, “I figured you were having some type of freak out, and since I didn’t want to do the whole you disappearing with no word for a week thing again, catching you off guard seemed like the best plan.” Minseok makes a hand gesture like ‘here I am’ and Luhan wonders out quickly Baekhyun sold him out.
“I’m sorry,” Luhan says again, “I never meant to…”
Minseok cuts him off, “I know I probably have a right to be mad.” Luhan swallows nervously. “I tried to make it clear to you last night that I’m not,” Minseok laughs humorlessly, “I mean I did feel a little stupid, but I know you weren’t playing with me or anything.” He pauses to look at Luhan then and there’s something vulnerable in his eyes, like as sure as he sounds he needs Luhan to tell him he’s right. Luhan just manages a hesitant barely there nod and resists reaching out for Minseok’s wrist.
“I used to think people just stared at you because you're so strange...and pretty,” Minseok says as he takes a step closer to Luhan, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “The way I see it, you didn’t exactly lie to me, just left some parts out,” he smiles gummily at Luhan then and Luhan feels a tremulous bubble of hope in his chest, “for all you know I have an even bigger secret I haven’t told you. And if I’m not upset I don’t see why you should be.” Luhan hasn’t managed to string together a coherent thought yet but Minseok seems to be doing most of the work for him.
Minseok’s been taking careful steps forward and he has Luhan nearly pressed against the door, “So can we just go back to the part where…,” Minseok trails off, his eyes focused on a spot above Luhan’s chin as he curls a hand in the collar of Luhan’s shirt to tug him down enough he doesn’t have to stand on his toes to press their lips together.
Luhan’s hands find Minseok’s hips, drawing him closer, savoring the way Minseok’s arms go around his neck. And then they’re stumbling, tripping their way towards the bed, laughing into each other’s mouths and tugging at clothes.
-
“Oh,” Yixing says serenely, spare key to Luhan’s room in his hand.
“Go away,” Luhan mumbles into the skin of Minseok’s tummy, not bothering to tug the sheets up over them.
“Right,” Yixing waves with his fingers as he turns to leave, “just wanted to check you weren’t moping, carry on.” The door clicks shut.
“So is your big secret that you’re a pornstar,” Luhan asks idly, liking the way Minseok bucks when he twists his wrist on an upstroke, “I think I’d like that.”
“It was a hypothetical,” Minseok pants as he rolls them so he has Luhan on his back, hips slotting together, “so no, you’re the only one who’s been in movies here.”
“Maybe we’ll change that one day,” Luhan says greasily, thumbs forming a frame with Minseok’s flushed cheeks and collarbones in focus, “you’ll be a star baby.”
Minseok groans, slapping Luhan’s hands out of the way to lick into his mouth and tangle their fingers, Luhan’s thighs squeezing around his waist. “You’re an idiot,” he says, sounding fond.