[oneshot] Cups of Coffee and Fairytales. (part 3)
When he regains conscience, he’s on someone’s back. He’s fairly aware that he’s on someone’s back, even before opening his eyes, because of the characteristic heat and the hands on the back of his knees. Who is it? Sehun? Lu Han? He opens his eyes.
“Junmyeonnie…?” He mutters when he spots the black hair and feels the fabric of a suit under his arms.
“That’d be me,” Junmyeon replies a bit breathily. “So you’ve woken up. You were awake when I found you, but a little out of yourself. I suppose you might be catching a cold.”
Minseok casts a glance around. Junmyeon is carrying Minseok up the hill where both of their homes are located, side by side at the very top of it. The sky is darker than ever, flashing with lightning now and then, and Minseok can feel the drizzle that precedes the storm beginning to fall. It’s fortunate that Junmyeon found him in time. And speaking of which…
“Is my cane with you?” He asks, faintly recalling throwing it to the ground before passing out.
“Sehunnie grabbed it before I could,” Junmyeon admits, a bit upset by it, apparently. “I shouted for him to wait, but he seemed to be in great hurry. He grabbed it and ran towards the riverside.”
He must have chased Lu Han, Minseok thinks in the back of his head. Then, it sinks. “Sehun? Sehun was there?!”
“Sehun got there before I did. I think he was coming back from school,” Junmyeon replies. “When I saw you two, he was already grabbing your cane, and I saw you on the ground, so I rushed to help. I don’t think he heard me coming. I hope he doesn’t think you were kidnapped or anything.”
Minseok doesn’t have anything to say, so silence falls upon them. He’s still digesting what has happened - Lu Han’s strange mood and even stranger confession, their escape, Sehun chasing after them with Minseok’s cane in hands.
His head aches, badly. He can’t wait till he gets home so he can lie down.
“I’m sorry for causing you this much trouble,” Minseok apologizes once Junmyeon goes through his front gate with him still on his back. “You can sit me down under the pergola. I’m sure Sehun won’t be long, and he can take me inside-”
“No can do, hyung. Give me your keys.” Junmyeon does sit him under the pergola, but won’t budge until Minseok, begrudgingly, hands him the house keys. “There’s a storm coming. I can’t possibly leave you outside in this state.”
In this state. Junmyeon talks as if I were a cripple, a part of Minseok’s brain thinks. But you are a cripple, Minseok, the other part of his brain retorts. Minseok sighs, looking up at the honeysuckle in bloom.
“Did I ever tell you about the honeysuckle?” He asks before he can stop himself, voice faint. For some reason, he feels an urge to speak, to cry, to let something out. Only, he himself doesn’t know what this ‘something’ is.
“I don’t think you did,” Junmyeon admits, struggling to unlock the front door. “I don’t know much about flowers, to be frank. A-ha,” he exclaims when the lock finally clicks open. “Come. Let’s get you in.”
“It’s not about the flower, Junmyeon,” Minseok complains, voice barely above a whisper, and shaky, for reasons he can’t understand and doesn’t approve of. He sounds delirious. Junmyeon must think he is, indeed, delirious.
“You can tell me later, then,” is the reply that Junmyeon gives him while hitching him up his back once again. “I’m afraid you might be running a fever.”
As he thought. And Minseok doesn’t have the strength to protest, so he falls silent, and lets himself be carried by loneliness once again.
When Minseok falls asleep, he sees a fantastic dream.
He hasn’t dreamed that vividly in years, ever since he started in the circus. Back in the day, he never saw any dreams, too tired to do anything but pass out on his bed; after the accident and his retirement, his dreams were always distant from his body, like an old movie happening beyond the limitless gap of a television screen.
It has been a while since he last was the main character of his dreams, and, in this one, he’s definitely the main character. He’s swinging in a trapeze, aiming for the tightrope extended few meters under his feet, while the crowd observes him from what must be kilometers below the rope. It’s frightening. Minseok is frightened by the height, which corresponds with his post-accident self, but he moves freely, which does not correspond to his post-accident self. He swings, and swings, and thinks, I can’t let go right now - but he does, before he can think twice, and he’s falling and falling and the rope is long gone.
Only, he’s not falling. He’s floating. He’s in control of how he falls, and decides to fall slowly, like a leaf when autumn comes. When he reaches the floor, he’s sitting under the pergola of his garden - how it looked several years ago, granted, but it’s definitely his garden - and billions of luminous sprites are flying among his flowers, and singing.
“Welcome to your son’s birthday,” a nearby sprite, who has a big sunflower instead of hair, says to him. “Here, we tell the story of a human who fell for a faerie prince.”
“Isn’t it the opposite?” Minseok asks.
“It was, several centuries ago, but all this rain changed it,” the sprite says, glancing at the sky in a displeased manner. “Come dance with us. Today, you’ll become a faerie too.”
But I don’t want to be a faerie. What about Sehun? Minseok thinks, and chooses to stay away. He listens as the faeries sing about how a lot of rain would make a river overflow, but it’d also make the fish conquer the earth, and isn’t that wonderful? Minseok supposes it is, and decides to check the river to see if it’s full of fish. With one hop over his fence, he's at the park near the riverside.
There, Lu Han is sitting at a weeping willow’s roots, butterbur leaf over his head like an umbrella; it’s what makes Minseok notice that it’s raining. Lu Han looks beautiful, dressed in a flowy fabric that floats freely around him, as if lighter than air.
“Lu Han, I’m sorry for shouting at you,” Minseok says when he arrives by the faerie’s side. Lu Han gets to their feet, and walks closer to Minseok, until both are under the butterbur leaf.
“It’s okay. It didn’t make sense, for me to plant an oak there,” Lu Han replies, laughing briskly, and Minseok laughs as well.
“It was a silly idea,” Minseok agrees. “But you shouldn’t go. You should come to Sehun’s birthday. The faeries are waiting for you.”
At that, Lu Han shakes their head. “I can’t. I need to go back home. I’ve run out of spells.”
“You haven’t!” Minseok exclaims in surprise. “How can you have?”
“I drank them with the coffee. It made me these beautiful clothes,” Lu Han gestures at their clothes. “But now I must go. I’ll come back in the summer, along with the rains.”
“No! Lu Han!” Minseok screams as Lu Han starts floating away from his reach. No matter how high he jumps, his hands can’t reach the faerie - it’s like Lu Han isn’t even there. “Don’t go! You know I can’t chase after you!”
He wakes up in a startle, face moist with sweat and eyes swollen with tears. The feeling of déjà vu is like bitter medicine in his mouth.
It takes a while for him to comprehend his surroundings. He’s in his room, on his bed, and it’s dark outside. The sound of the rain is deafening, roaring with fury on the house’s roof as lightning cracks and thunder rumbles. What an awful weather, Minseok thinks. It’s almost as if someone had made his feelings into a storm.
There’s the sound of steps outside, and the faint smell of food amidst the thick scent of the rain. Sehun must be back, Minseok thinks quite miserably. It must be the first time he doesn’t find joy in Sehun being home.
Not getting up just yet, Minseok thinks of his dream, and recalls the happenings of that day. He was now quite sure he’d never see Lu Han again - and yet, thinking about it like this only worsened his misery. He had so much fun with Lu Han, and felt such a connection with the faerie, that it was much more than a pity to see them disappear without a goodbye. Minseok wishes he could’ve at least said something to sane their doubts and confusion; that he could’ve said that yes, Lu Han was special to him in a way, and that they might not have been the only one in Minseok’s life - but they were one of a kind. One who couldn’t ever be replaced by any human, or, Minseok suspects, any faerie.
But now it was too late, Minseok thought bitterly, glancing at his window to watch the rain.
He almost has a heart attack when he sees Lu Han’s face on the window, smiling sheepishly at him.
I must be seeing things, Minseok thinks as he rubs his eyes frantically. When he looks again, however, Lu Han is still there, even if his smile looks quite stiffer, and he waves a hand to Minseok. It’s not a second before Minseok is on his feet, at the window, opening it with violence.
“What are you doing outside?! There’s a storm!!” He screams over the deafening sound of thunder, noting, on the back of his mind, that Lu Han is still wearing his clothes, but the beanie was gone. The lavender-colored flowers in their hair had at last opened. “Look, you’ve bloomed!”
“I have,” Lu Han agrees, lowering their head for Minseok to take a look. “What do you think?”
“It’s rather pretty,” Minseok compliments, admiring the flowers before he remembers he has something urgent to say. “You are rather pretty. Lu Han, I’m terribly sorry for today. I should’ve said-”
“Don’t,” Lu Han shushes him, a finger to his lips, and oh my, Lu Han’s fingers are so warm despite the rain. “It was my fault. What I’ve done is very shameful. Faeries are taught not to force their feelings on others, and that’s what I did. That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time.”
Minseok wants to tell them otherwise. Minseok needs to tell them otherwise. “But I don’t mind. I’m alright with it, really. I just don’t want you to go.”
At that, Lu Han smiles sadly. Their hand falls from Minseok’s lips to the window’s mill, and Minseok fears he might know what comes next.
“I have to go,” Lu Han says, just as Minseok had feared, and Minseok’s blood grows cold.
“But… but you still have spells with you,” Minseok justifies, and he wonders if it shows on his face, how much he wants Lu Han to stay a little longer, just a little longer. Lu Han nods, pulling the two jars from the pocket of their (Minseok’s) pants; one of them, Minseok notices, is almost empty.
“The weather will dry up soon. When it does, I won’t be able to stay,” they say. “And I already have use for these spells, before I go.”
Before Minseok can say anything, Lu Han pops the full jar open, and it all happens even faster than the first time; Minseok opens his mouth to say something, and the spell darts into his mouth, and down his throat, and he coughs and coughs and chokes on spit.
“Lu Han, no! Your spell!!” Minseok screams as Lu Han enters his bedroom by the window, pushing, without their hands, Minseok towards the bed. “Why did you do this? You shouldn’t waste this kind of thing on me!”
“I’m not wasting anything on you,” Lu Han affirms firmly, giving Minseok a final push so he falls on his butt on the mattress. Lu Han’s hands come to rest on Minseok’s right thigh, where warmth starts to pool. “I wanted to do this, ever since I saw your pain. How cruel it is that someone as kind as you suffers so much?”
It’s then when Minseok realizes what Lu Han is doing, and it makes him feel so much and so intensely that his chest feels like it’ll burst. Tears spill without warning from his eyes, and Lu Han watches them fall, eyes sad, but mesmerized. “I’ve never seen you cry.”
“I don’t cry often,” Minseok confesses, trembling as he wipes the tears off his face.
“And you shouldn’t.” One of the faerie’s hands comes up to cup Minseok’s chin; and slowly, very slowly and cautiously, their faces come closer, and closer, until they’re as close as they can be and Lu Han plants a tender kiss on Minseok’s lips.
How long has it been since Minseok was last kissed like this?
How long has it been since someone has loved him so purely?
It feels like too much to him, but he wants time to stop, so they can stay like that for a second, or a minute longer. Just a little more time would be fine - just a little.
“Thank you for having me,” Lu Han whispers against his lips, eyes closed, and Minseok learns how pretty Lu Han’s lashes are. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
“A kiss?” Minseok can’t help his curiosity. “Faeries don’t kiss?”
Lu Han shakes their head, stepping back, away from Minseok’s face, from Minseok’s warmth, from Minseok. “We don’t.” When they say this, they’re already by the window’s mill once again, their last jar of spell in hands. “Which I think it’s a waste.” And they pop it open.
A flash of light illuminate Minseok’s bedroom like he had never seen it before. He’s distracted by it, momentarily, and watches as the light forms a ring around his bed. The light thins out, thins out, and thins out, until it fades; and on the floor, forming a perfect circle around Minseok’s bed, there’s a ring of moss roses and white mushrooms, colouring the brown of the wood with their vibrancy.
When Minseok looks up, Lu Han is gone, and his curtains flows sadly as the open window welcomes the rain.
At that moment, Sehun opens the door. He’s wearing an apron over his pyjamas, and smells strongly of curry sauce. “Dinner is ready.” Then, he takes in the appearance of the bedroom, and flicks the lamp on. “What the hell happened here?!”
The first thing he does is to rush and shut the window, raving about how Minseok must be doing this on purpose, what is he thinking, dad, seriously, are you trying to run away or something?, and how that’s why Minseok is always sick, et cetera. Minseok pays him no attention, admiring the goodbye gift Lu Han had left him, and Sehun seems to notice. He, too, directs he glance at that. “And what’s this?” He points at the fairy ring, still visibly annoyed. “Are you trying to bring the garden in?”
Minseok shakes his head, a silly grin on his lips. “I think I’m being courted,” Minseok says dreamily, trying to get on his feet - and experiencing, for the first time in decades, a painless ease in doing it. “Flattering, is it not?”
Sehun scoffs indignantly, and sashays back to the kitchen muttering about faeries who have no shame and should know better than go around stealing other people’s fathers. Minseok, who’s in an amazingly good mood, follows him suit, skipping his way down the hallway humming a familiar melody.
Epilogue.
“I don’t think you needed to pack quite this much, Sehun,” Minseok says as Sehun huffs and puffs under the sun, sweating as he pulls two big suitcases with him along the roadside. “We’re just going to camp.”
“Well, camping demands us,” he heaves, almost reaching Minseok. “to be prepared,” almost there, Minseok cheers on him mentally. “for all emergencies.” He finally gets there, and props his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. “God, these tents are heavy.
“Aren’t they? How odd,” Minseok gestures his own backpack. “And now, we wait. Our exciting trip has just begun!”
Since Minseok’s miraculous recover during that year’s spring - one that became the town’s new rumor, linking it to the end of the strange rains and how Minseok was some kind of witch or maybe a nine-tailed fox - he had become a much more active man. He had rekindled his love for sports, specially football, and it wasn’t long till the town’s school hired him as a part-time football team coach and unofficial nurse, much to Sehun’s simultaneous pride and distress. He had started plans of expansion for Tarràssaco Café, and hired a couple of new employees, one of which was involved in a rather complicated romantic situation with Hongbin which Minseok didn’t know much about. More importantly, Minseok was taking care of the garden better than ever - and the flowers were blossoming with unseen beauty.
It’s obvious that having his leg cured, and the cane ditched, was a major cause for all of that, but Minseok also credits the improvement of his sleep quality. Every night since his cure, he falls asleep peacefully on his bed, and wakes up to a beautiful fairy ring blossoming around his bed - courtesy of an old friend, who seems a little prone to exaggerated romanticism.
Not that Minseok is complaining; he kinds of likes it, in fact.
And so, since Minseok’s life has been looking up so much these days, nothing more natural for him than to plan special vacations with his son. On the rare nights he manages to catch the faerie by his window, singing softly to him even though he’s supposedly asleep, both of them make plans. Minseok hasn’t had a trip in years - and never a trip to the faerie realm.
“I hope this is worth the hard work,” Sehun says snottily, which Minseok knows is his way to express anxiety. “If we end up kicked out of the faerie kingdom, I’ll-”
“Sehun,” Minseok interrupts his silly child, patting him on the head. My, he has grown again. He’s definitely taller than Minseok now. “Just enjoy it. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
Sehun nods in silence, accepting the caress tamely. Sehun is such a sweet kid, Minseok thinks to himself. He wonders if he and Lu Han will ever be friends.
“Hello, tourists,” a voice talks to them behind their back, and they both startle; Sehun remains tense, but Minseok relaxes as soon as he recognizes the voice. “Are you ready to enter my world?”
And like this - because of an unexpected meeting, which results in a new life, a new love, and the best summer vacations ever, even if peppered by minor mishaps - Minseok’s life blooms more beautifully than any flower.
part 1 → part 2 → part 3