[b.a.p x exo-m] universal smile
Who: Youngjae, Luhan (+EXO-M)
What: 5800w, G
Summary: One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood. -Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Youngjae studies abroad in Beijing to improve his Mandarin.
He stays with Luhan and meets his friends
and falls maybe just the slightest bit in love.
This is a story about some words he learned and knowledge he earned,
and the one concept he never had to study in order to understand.
Because Youngjae speaking Mandarin always melts my heart. ♥ It's a college AU, kinda? bapfiction prompted me to try this EXOxBAP challenge (thank you!) on AFF if you want to read it there. the crossover concept was super fun. :0! though i probably won't write exo again unless it's himchan/suho being rich bastards together lol I SHIP. [2013.03.13 FIX thanks to Chiharu~ *____*]
*
• ge - elder brother
• Hover over Chinese text for a translation! (If you're reading this on your phone, um. Sorry.)
• "Do your balls hurt?" (1) (2)… basically, "Don't you have anything better to do."
* (cute)
Youngjae arrives in China for three months of extra credits over uni break. He collects his luggage and fidgets his way through customs, leaving Beijing International Airport with a bundle of nerves where his heart should be.
China is crazy.
There are people everywhere but it's a different kind of bustle from Seoul. He takes a shuttle bus to the city centre wide-eyed and wrestles his suitcase onto a packed train (people climb in through the windows, what the hell!) out to the partner university he'll be attending for the duration of his stay. He's been told his host family will meet him there but the only one he finds is his host brother, Luhan.
Luhan says something in quick Mandarin, a sheepish smile on his face, and Youngjae stares at him blankly for a moment before taking his electronic dictionary back out of his pocket.
"Ah, no…" Luhan says then in much simpler terms, closing Youngjae's dictionary for him. He points to himself. "My dad, my mom… working. Always working."
"Ahh…" Youngjae says, nodding. He keeps his words clear and his pronunciation careful: "It is okay. It is nice to meet you, Luhan-ge. My name is Yoo Youngjae."
Luhan smiles and his eyes crease cutely at the corners. "I know," he says. "But it's nice to meet you, too. 你很可爱~"
Youngjae just stares blankly at him again and Luhan laughs.
* (no)
Youngjae's Mandarin isn't the most advanced mode of communication on the planet. Even if he's near the top of his class back in Korea, it's still a fairly low-level class and he hasn't been learning too long. Luhan doesn't seem to pay this any mind, jumping from topic to random topic during conversation and leaving Youngjae floundering trying to keep up.
It helps (a little) that Luhan's family speaks pretty much the most standard form of Mandarin there is but Youngjae still clutches at his electronic dictionary like a lifeline, referring to its grey screen compulsively for days until Luhan steals it and hides it and Youngjae doesn't have the vocabulary to ask for it back-or the heart to be annoyed at Luhan's angelic face for more than a couple of hours.
He tries, he really does, but the anger is hard to hold when Luhan brings out a large sketchbook and crayons (honest actual crayons in five colours) and starts to draw.
That's the happy middle ground they settle on thereafter: pictures and hand-signs with exaggerated facial expressions when Youngjae doesn't know enough words. Loath as he is to admit, it is more fun this way (if hideously inefficient-but the phrases he does pick up are easier to remember for their accompanying fond memories).
By the end of the first week Youngjae can say, "I want to watch a movie. I don't want to watch porn," and "No, I don't like what you've chosen."
(He's not nearly good enough to convey much snark in his comments yet, but the way Luhan's eyes sparkle sometimes at his retorts makes Youngjae kind of hope maybe Luhan gets it anyway.)
Youngjae falls into bed each night completely exhausted (mentally more than physically) but upon waking up the next morning with Luhan's smiling face in his personal space, he can't help but laugh and drag himself out from under the covers to do it all again.
* (bubble tea)
"Clothes," Luhan orders on one such typical morning. (This eventually progresses to, "Put on some clothes," and then "Come onnn~ get dressed already, you lazy slob! ♥" over the weeks it takes Youngjae to comprehend each preceding statement.) "I want bubble tea."
"Bubble tea," Youngjae repeats, trying to remember where he's heard the term before as he wiggles into his jeans. It takes a moment but his brain doesn't let him down: "Oh! Bubble tea. Taro… I like… bubble tea, with taro inside. And pearl." He grins at this small linguistic triumph and Luhan grins right back as if Youngjae'd just said he won a trillion yuan.
"You have good taste, Youngjae. Taro and pearl milk tea is my favourite!"
"It is your favourite? Wow!" Youngjae says and laughs when Luhan delightedly demands a high-five.
The bubble tea that morning is the absolute best he's ever had-though it's rivalled closely by his third bubble tea in Beijing, which is brought to the house courtesy of one of Luhan's friends.
On this day Youngjae trails Luhan to the front door and nearly chokes on air when their visitor is someone he's seen on TV-a regular from some talkshow variety thing that goes way too fast for Youngjae to understand (though it's funny when the hosts get dumped into water and things like that). Luhan insists on watching it every other night, and now Youngjae knows this guy is probably the reason why.
"Hey, it's been a while-!" Luhan smiles at the guy and rattles off a string of words from which Youngjae only understands 'Korean exchange student' as Luhan gestures behind himself.
The guy's eyes flicker over to Youngjae.
"Uhh, you…!" Youngjae says rather rudely by accident, trying to collect his broken Mandarin that's been scattered by excitement. The guy blinks blankly and Youngjae tries again: "Um. You… I see you yesterday. I saw?"
"No sorry, I no… know, you?" the guy says back in equally broken Korean, and Luhan looks from one to the other before absolutely pissing himself laughing, holding his sides and doubling over as he shakes and slaps his thighs. Youngjae looks at the guy in the doorway who looks back at Youngjae for a moment before wordlessly they both decide to jump Luhan and beat the living crap out of him.
It's only five minutes later when Luhan is curled up wheezing from a ruthless tickle attack and Youngjae and his newfound ally are sitting side by side on the floor, satisfied, that Youngjae turns to the guy and tries a third time: "Uh, hello. It is nice to meet you, Luhan-ge-friend. My name is Yoo Youngjae."
"Ahh~" The guy smiles, and Youngjae thinks his dimple is infinitely cuter from a foot away than through a TV screen. "Hello, Youngjae. My name is Zhang Yixing."
* (heart)
Class is hard: far harder than in Korea because Youngjae can't ask the questions he wants without thinking about them for a good five minutes (when he can even understand the content to begin with) and Luhan, that dick, still hasn't given back his electronic dictionary so Youngjae is reduced to using a borrowed paper one and sweet merciful Jesus searching by radical is not fun when you're doing it three hundred times an hour.
"Everything is hard," he complains to Luhan when they meet at the front gates after school. Luhan is a fourth year and doesn't have half as many contact hours as Youngjae, but does have a lot of friends around campus to fill in his time and he's said he doesn't mind waiting so they can both walk home together. Youngjae is grateful for this. "Everything is hard, Luhan-ge. Nothing I understand."
Luhan just laughs, amused (and Youngjae thinks he likes how amusement is Luhan's default response to everything, right along with the way his eyes light up and sparkle). "You don't need to understand anything, Youngjae."
Youngjae regards Luhan sidelong for a long moment, thinking maybe he's misheard or misunderstood. "No… I need to understand everything?" He's fairly sure understanding is important. Especially in class.
"No, Youngjae. Words are just words," Luhan smiles, and again Youngjae technically knows what's being said but still isn't quite sure he gets what Luhan's trying to tell him. "If you understand here..." Luhan presses a hand to Youngjae's chest "...then you understand enough."
"Heart?" Youngjae says in confusion.
"Heart," Luhan agrees.
Youngjae considers that. And hopes he's saying the right thing when he tells Luhan at length, "But class has no heart…"
Luhan's uncontrollable laughter isn't, unfortunately, much of a clue.
* (home)
Somewhere between their fourth and fifteenth trip to the bubble tea place, Youngjae wakes up earlier than Luhan for once (only because Luhan'd had a test and didn't sleep the night before yet still went to soccer training afterward-but Youngjae will take what he can get).
He decides to be lovely and selfless (or try) and surprise Luhan with a bubble tea and bao breakfast. Since Luhan's parents are barely home, meals come almost exclusively from takeout and various other things from carts and stalls around the block. Youngjae thinks he knows the area well enough.
[ Luhan-ge, I am going to buy for you a surprise! ♥ I will return fast ] Youngjae writes in orange and red crayon, and slips the sheet of paper under Luhan's bedroom door.
The bubble tea place is easy to find because they've been there so many times, but Youngjae can't remember the exact location Luhan's favourite bao cart. He wonders briefly if the nice old lady had maybe relocated, but every other time Luhan had led them to her in the past she'd always been a stone's throw from the bubble tea store…
Two turns in and Youngjae quickly realises he's lost.
He looks around. There are market stalls to his left and right, stretching down an alley until it curves out of sight and it's definitely not what he'd been looking for. He tries backtracking but the tiny streets wind around, sprawling out, and he can't exactly remember which corner he turned in to begin with-all the stalls look the same with hagglers and sellers yelling and hawking. No problem, Youngjae thinks. He'll just have to swallow his pride and call Luhan. They'll be able to figure something out together. It's a crushing blow to his happily-laid plans and definitely lame but better than wandering around Beijing without the slightest clue as to where…
Where he…
He can't find his phone.
Surprised, Youngjae fights down a rising panic.
There is no way he'd have left Luhan's place without his phone though-Yoo Youngjae of all people, forgetting a piece of technology? Never. But it doesn't seem to be in his bag or his pockets. He rifles through all his things twice, shoving the bubble teas aside-did he drop it somewhere? Did someone-
No, it doesn't matter, Youngjae tells himself. It's okay. It's a loss but he can still work out where he is. All he needs to do is ask for directions to the nearest train station and he'll be able to take it from there.
Simple, right? He knows those 'direction' words; he learned them second semester. He knows them-he does.
But-maybe it's the way the people talk, or maybe his own ever-increasing nervousness, but every pointing gesture and rattled-off phrase he gets from a vendor aunt or uncle is utterly indecipherable. "Oh… thank you," Youngjae smiles anyway and bows to them, ignoring the way his hands grow clammier with each (every single) word that goes over his head.
Stumbling out of a random side of the back-street market, he wanders along a sort-of-main-looking road until there are more shops-another bubble tea store!-in the unfamiliar area. He pushes through the door.
The lovely cashier girl there knows a little bit of English, and between their scraps of two languages she tries to draw out a station map on a napkin, but even looking at it Youngjae can't quite decipher where he is; and he is, by this point, about three minutes out from a complete mental breakdown.
"...uh, thank you," he manages to smile shakily, and doesn't look back when he leaves the store because the girl probably thinks he's a weirdo. (Best not to confirm it.) He wanders back out onto the footpath, staring around. From what he can see, there's a convenience store. That sort-of-main road. A couple of restaurants.
No police boxes, no Luhan and no Luhan's house.
What to do?
"Aaargh!" Youngjae exclaims in frustration, swatting away the nightmare images of wandering Beijing's labyrinthine streets forever that fly around his head. He wonders if maybe the napkin will start to make sense if he just picks a direction and walks (because tr e e, it says under one scrawly swirly landmark thing in a corner. Tree! Youngjae's no Marco Polo-Picasso himself but what even-).
Suddenly, strains of a certain obnoxious song filter through his subconscious.
Youngjae's eyes go wide.
He is fairly certain he's the only idiot on the planet who'd let his host brother set Super Girl as his own ringtone-
Rummaging feverishly through his bag again, he follows the vibrations and tinny entreaties of 我是你的 Super Man!s down, down-inside the plastic bag that his two perspiring bubble teas are wrapped in.
(Let it never be said that Yoo Youngjae doesn't appreciate technology of all sorts: finding the little 8-bit, 12-key functioning rental brick makes him feel like he's won the lottery. It's a little damp but still definitely ringing and the caller ID is definitely Luhan's and Youngjae almost wants to cry for all these new and happy reasons.)
"Luhan-ge!" he exclaims, mixing Korean and Mandarin into the speaker with his overwhelming gratefulness: "Oh my god, I'm so glad you called. I so happy. My phone-I, I'd thought I lost it…"
"Are you okay, Youngjae?" Luhan asks in careful Mandarin, concerned. "You said 'come back fast' but it's been two hours… I was worried."
"I am… uh." Youngjae pauses, realising he doesn't actually know the right word for lost/displaced/off-course/missing/help me. "I… where am I?" he tries, hoping Luhan won't just think he's playing around or being cheeky. "Luhan-ge, where am I? I don't know…"
Luhan seems to sense the distress in his voice-the serious note doesn't leave his own. "I don't know either, Youngjae. What is around you? What do you see?" There's a soft thudding of shoes in the background of the call and Youngjae can all but imagine Luhan already pulling on his sneakers in the foyer. Superman-ge, he thinks, looking up and down the road.
One by one he reads out all the store names he can, starting with the bubble tea place, describing characters radical by radical when he can't deduce a meaning or pronunciation. It feels like a pretty futile effort but Luhan keeps him talking and just the sound of Luhan's voice and breath-he's running, occasionally dropping an 'excuse me' aside-helps put a lid on Youngjae's situational panic. Minutes pass. Maybe ten. Maybe thirty.
"Ah-!" Luhan shouts at length, and then the line goes dead.
Youngjae stares at his phone in horror-Ah!? What's happened?-before light feet thunder up to him and suddenly, strong wiry arms almost lift him off the sidewalk in a laughing blur of honey-brown hair. "Youuu! You idiot, Youngjae!" Luhan exclaims. "I've found you!"
The relief is intense. Youngjae doesn't know what to say, clinging to Luhan's shirt. "Luhan-ge…"
"Do you know how many of these stores even exist around here?!" Luhan demands. He's breathing hard and kind of glowing from his run.
Youngjae hugs him as tight as he can. "I don't know. I am sorry, ge… Thank you found me…"
Surprisingly, Luhan just chuckles. "It's okay. This was the first store I decided to check. Pretty cool, huh?"
"Cool," Youngjae repeats in agreement, pulling back suddenly when he remembers his purchases. Digging through his bag, he brings out the two lukewarm bubble teas. "Cool surprise for you?"
"Wow~ gee thanks, Youngjae. And with a bonus heart attack, too! I'm sooo lucky-not," Luhan says but he's laughing, his eyes creased cutely at the corners.
Youngjae smiles. Luhan reaches over and squashes his cheeks.
"Come on, you idiot," Luhan says, taking a bubble tea and Youngjae's hand. "Let's get you home."
Luhan doesn't let go the whole way there and Youngjae finds himself walking closer to Luhan's side and lacing their fingers tighter, ignoring all the aunts and uncles who side-eye them. Beijing is still kind of a rabbit-hole crazy place, he thinks, but there's just something about being with Luhan that makes the crush of 20-million people easier to handle…
(If Youngjae suspects it has less to do with Luhan's home ground advantage and everything to do with how Luhan just feels like home lately, he doesn't have the right words to say so out loud… but hopes that maybe Luhan gets it anyway.)
* (a little)
The week after that harrowing ordeal, Youngjae meets Kris and Tao-or Yifan and Zitao; they go by either name, Luhan says. (Apparently Kris has about five.)
Luhan catches Youngjae's wrist by the school gates and drags him back inside and across campus to the sports centre.
"We are not go home?" Youngjae asks.
Luhan grins at him, explaining it simply: "Not yet. My friends play basketball. Today is the final game." He drags Youngjae right onto the centre court where there's a whole bunch of students milling about pre-game. They part like almost biblical waters when Luhan walks through them though, and not for the first time Youngjae wonders just who exactly Luhan is (or seems to be) to almost everyone on campus. "Kris, our captain!" Luhan introduces the bleached one, and "Tao! Power forward," the dark-haired one with equally dark eyes.
Youngjae bows politely. "It is nice to meet you both. I am Youngjae."
"Oh. Hey, Youngjae. Luhan said you're from Korea; that's pretty cool," Kris tells Youngjae in passable Korean. He looks kind of fierce about the brows but the way he speaks has a warm tone and Youngjae finds himself smiling though their conversation is short-lived.
"Captaaain, stop talking in languages I can't understand," Tao whines.
Luhan also frowns. "We are in China and Youngjae is here to learn. Please use Mandarin."
"Sorry, sorry," Kris says-then, in another language, "Oh wait, do you know English?"
"Mandarin, Wu Yifan," Luhan insists and Youngjae laughs.
"I know… small English," Youngjae says, sticking with Mandarin and pleased to see Luhan appeased.
"A little English," Tao corrects.
Youngjae tries again: "I know a little English?"
Tao grins. "Yep, and I know some, too! My English name is Edison."
"Edison is a cool name," Youngjae smiles, and just has to wonder if all of Luhan's friends are as cute and amusing as Luhan himself is, because it sure seems that way.
The match later that evening is a fierce contest though. Youngjae has his heart in his throat, slapping Luhan's hands away when Luhan clutches at him, shrieking, every time Kris jumps for a 3-pointer. When Tao actually dunks like Air Jordan right on the buzzer to seal the game, the entire sports hall lifts off its feet in euphoria.
Scratch that, Youngjae thinks, laughing as he spins (and is spun by) Luhan in giddy half-circles when the crowd pours out of their seats and into the aisles. Cute and cool. Luhan's friends are definitely all cute and cool.
* (alone)
Youngjae still misses his friends back home, though.
It's nothing he can help, the bummed feeling unstoppable sometimes even if he completely enjoys where he's currently at.
One such quiet night Luhan helps him download a version of Skype onto his laptop that isn't the China version.
"I can't believe I have to help a tech-head like you with this though," Luhan says. "Don't you already have Skype anyway?" Youngjae doesn't explicitly understand every word, but he gets the gist of Luhan's gripes from his tone and his gestures and his aggressive left-clicking.
"No Skype," Youngjae says, dejected. "I use phone in Korea. I use my phone and LINE." But his Korean phone is currently substituted out for an 8-bit rental brick (which Youngjae still loves, okay; it just can't do an awful lot) and his LINE PC version isn't currently working and Youngjae is too tired to bother figuring out why. He's at a point where he just wants to talk to his parents or friends not via chat or mail for once, and hear them in person…
"There we go," Luhan says.
Youngjae gives him a grateful look. "Thanks, Luhan-ge."
"No problem," Luhan says with a half-smile, going back to his soccer magazine and Rubik's Cube on the end of Youngjae's bed.
Youngjae scrolls through his imported contacts and wonders who to call. His parents aren't online, nor his older brother. Of those who are (and he actually wants to talk to in a mood like this), there's Daehyun, the busker from Busan who became Youngjae's karaoke soulmate and buffet buddy over a family holiday some years ago; and Himchan, originally an acquaintance of Youngjae's brother, who Youngjae had somehow hit it off with after only meeting a couple of times-
Himchan is actually just a day older than Luhan is, Youngjae realises when he thinks about it, and his decision about who to call is made for him when Himchan calls first. His raspy voice sounds out over the laptop speakers: "Youngjae-yah! I didn't know you used Skype? Where have you been? All my LINE messages are still unread and it's been ages since I've seen you anywhere; you've like, dropped off the face of the planet!"
Youngjae can't help a smile at Himchan's typically exuberant 300 words per minute. Some things at least never change. "Ah, yeah. It's because I'm in China right now, hyung..."
"You're-wait, you're what?!" For some reason Himchan finds this statement hysterical and spends the next five minutes in stitches as Youngjae tries to tell him about language school and Luhan and life (getting lost) in Beijing.
Himchan's laugh-his true laugh, not his polite chuckle-is frankly awful and makes him look like a rat-horse hybrid, Youngjae thinks, but he loves it. It's contagious and unrestrained and really doesn't take long to lift Youngjae's tired mood. "What have you been up to, hyung?" Youngjae asks back and spends the next ten minutes listening to Himchan tell him about his political internship-or mostly: the Assistant Minister he reports to is kind of eh, but his son who is also at the office, oh god, that boy is such a little cutie, his name is Kim Junmyeon; Youngjae should totally come meet him when he's back in Seoul, okay? They can have lunch.
"Really? Youngjae says, amused, and doesn't even mind that asking just sets Himchan talking on and on again without respite-it's so good to hear actual Korean after so long, words Youngjae understands without having to concentrate, jokes and side-references all completely and effortlessly intact… Youngjae sighs.
"How's things though, really?" Himchan says then, and a little too late Youngjae remembers that although Himchan is a chatterbox, he's also kind of sensitive. Oops. "How are you really? Are you eating properly? Is your host family treating you well? You sound tired."
"Everything's fine, hyung," Youngjae smiles. "I mean it's frustrating sometimes since it's hard to say things the way I want to, but my host brother is really the most amazing person… no, I'm serious! He helps me so much and he's thoughtful and nice and buys me food and saved me when I was lost. I kind of wish he was my real brother, except for how he's way cute. I kinda…" He stops, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at what Luhan's doing-if he's listening, even though he probably wouldn't understand a word. (He's probably listening. Luhan is attentive like that.)
"Well~ doesn't that sound interesting," Himchan teases. "I should like to meet him one day if given the chance. In the meantime don't bite off more than you can chew, Yoo Youngjae, though knowing you and your iron stomach that's a pretty useless order. Oh, hey! Though speaking of food, there was this amazing barbecue place Junmyeon showed me the other day; I took Jonguppie to celebrate his graduation and when you get back we should totally-"
It's nearly an hour later and way past his usual bedtime when Youngjae finally ends the conversation and shuts down his computer. He sits there for a while after the screen's gone dark, just staring at it for no reason he can fathom. He's not sure what he's feeling at his quiet desk-that's-not-his, in his quiet room-that's-not-his-either, trying to collect himself. (From what though, he's not sure. Because it's not like he's alone. It's not like he's scattered.)
"Lonely?" Luhan asks softly into the silence, and hearing Mandarin again is almost jarring except for how the syllables just roll off Luhan's tongue the way Youngjae hopes they'll be able to roll off his own in the future. "Are you lonely, Youngjae?"
Youngjae turns around with a lopsided smile. He knows this question, and provides the appropriate response based on Luhan's frequent conversations with Yixing: "Do your balls hurt, ge?"
Luhan smiles. "Okay," he says. "I'll take that as a no."
(If, that night, Luhan falls asleep on Youngjae's bed and Youngjae doesn't have the heart to wake him, neither of them complains it's too warm with two people under the covers instead of one and barely any space between.
Under the faint, first morning light Youngjae thinks Luhan's sleeping face is as beautiful as his smile under the daytime sun, and there's no way Youngjae can be lonely like this. He can't. He's not anymore.
He wonders if, maybe, then, the lingering hollow feeling in his chest comes from the fact that he knows it will soon have to end.)
* (dawn)
There's a subtle change between them in the weeks that follow.
Instead of throwing open the curtains and making demands, Luhan takes to waking Youngjae by brushing gentle fingers through his unruly hair with a soft, sing-song, "Youngjae~ wake up, Jae."
He holds Youngjae's hand while dragging him through campus and they have lunch together, studying for tests or watching Kris and Tao play.
At one point, Luhan even introduces Youngjae to another Korean exchange student-a long-term one named Kim Jongdae, who goes by 'Chen' in China.
"Oh, so this is him," Chen says blandly in textbook-perfect Mandarin that is everything Youngjae hopes his own will be within a year or so. "The cute little brother you keep talking about. Interesting."
Luhan gives Chen an evil eye but Chen seems unperturbed and Youngjae finds himself a little bit awed-it's kind of rare to find anyone immune to Luhan's wiles. In fact, Youngjae doesn't think he's ever seen anyone like Chen before.
Amusingly enough Luhan doesn't let Youngjae meet Chen again after that, instead dragging him over to lunch with a different exchange student, Kim Minseok, whose Chinese name is Xiumin (but Luhan just calls him baozi). Youngjae and Xiumin's Mandarin levels turn out to be much closer than Youngjae and Chen's anyway, and the two of them spend many subsequent lunches stutter-talking animatedly with gestures and laughs while Luhan joins in and helps them along, correcting their speech only when he has to.
Luhan calls them both his 'two favourite bao-faced boys' and Youngjae doesn't really know what to make of that, but Xiumin is cute and doesn't seem to mind the title (or sharing it) so he supposes it can't be all bad.
* (day)
"Wow," Youngjae says weeks later in front of the TV, stunned to suddenly realise that he comprehends the evening news with the help of pictures-and even a little of that variety show Yixing is on (they call him Lay there, though) with no pictures at all. "I can understand… a lot. Somehow."
Luhan's smile is beaming as he sets his takeaway box aside and subjects Youngjae to strangling hug-arms, complete with a loud and inelegant kiss on the cheek. "Aww, baby's grown up so fast! Big brother's so proud of you~"
Laughing, Youngjae tries to fight Luhan away without spilling fried rice all over the floor. "Hey! Yuck! Ge, you taste like chow mein…"
"Do I?" Luhan asks with point blank amusement before Youngjae realises he'd meant to say smell rather than taste. Oh… whoops. "How do you know, huh? Do you want to know?"
"…I… don't know…" Youngjae says. "I don't know you taste like chow mein… but, you smell like…"
Luhan collapses back against the couch and rubs his hands over his face, eyes glittering. "My god, could you be any less romantic, Yoo Youngjae?" he says, and for all Youngjae's lingual progress he doesn't at all understand the phrase Luhan uses in that moment-but Luhan's still amused, still smiling, so Youngjae lets it slide and supposes it doesn't really matter.
As long as Luhan's happy.
* (dusk)
"我会想你想得发疯、" Luhan says on a late night, quietly.
Youngjae is in Luhan's bed this time, curled up under the blankets exhausted from their impromptu soccer match that afternoon (he'd accidentally headed a ball with his face and his split lip hurt, damnit). Luhan sits beside him with a science text he's not really reading.
Youngjae's eyes are too heavy from warmth and the way Luhan's fingers stroke calmly through his hair.
Already mostly asleep, he doesn't manage to translate the phrase-doesn't so much as stir-before his mind shuts down and he's out like a light.
The final days fly by.
* (love)
Luhan skips class to see Youngjae to the airport, insisting on it though Youngjae tells him not to worry. Youngjae is grateful.
They keep quiet company on the train and bus, Luhan's head resting on Youngjae's shoulder and Youngjae's cheek pressed into Luhan's hair, both tired from staying up all night talking. Youngjae doesn't let go of Luhan's hand ever and it's pretty funny (read: fail) trying to wrestle his luggage around like this, but definitely worth it to see Luhan's smile at their own ridiculousness (because Luhan doesn't let go of Youngjae's hand ever either).
Hours pass.
Youngjae checks in.
His flight is called to board.
Youngjae hesitates by the security gates, watching people get wanded through the double doors. There's a bit of a queue but he still doesn't want to leave yet.
"Go on, Youngjae. Don't you have a plane to catch?" Luhan says, nudging their linked hands toward the departure area.
"Don't it seem I am stuck here?" Youngjae counters, nudging their linked hands right back. "Stuck to you..."
Luhan's wry, teasing smile is soft and familiar and he presses a kiss to Youngjae's cheek. "I wish you could be," he murmurs, and for a moment Youngjae doesn't even register his switch to Korean it's so fluid. "I'm going to miss you so much, Youngjae-yah."
'Youngjae-yah…'
Youngjae stares at Luhan in shock. "What was that? Did you just-?"
Luhan grins bright with barely-contained laughter. "Next time I go to Korea let me visit your place, okay? I want to meet your parents, too."
"Next time you-Jesus Christ, hyung!" Youngjae exclaims, stunned, and can't stop staring because Luhan's Seoul accent is better than Daehyun's, what the actual hell. "You never told me you knew Korean!"
Luhan laughs, sweet and melodic. "Well you didn't come all the way to China to hear my Korean, did you?" he says, and Youngjae can't come up with a response for that. No, he didn't, but it would have been nice to-
"Oh my god," he says. "Oh my god…"
"I did middle school and high school in Seoul," Luhan explains, and Youngjae feels his head just spin.
"You are unbelievable, hyung!" he says. "I really can't believe you spent this whole time pretending not to know a single word I-!" He suddenly bites his tongue remembering the conversation he'd had with Himchan over Skype. Luhan had been sitting right there. Listening to the whole thing. Actually listening. "Oh my god…!"
Luhan just laughs again and gathers Youngjae into a tight hug. "Is it that big a deal? You have a plane to catch, babo-yah. Unless you're going to miss me enough that you really have decided to stay…"
Oh my god, Youngjae thinks. I can't believe… "It's… tempting," he manages, forcing his brain back into gear. He'll enjoy being home, but it'll be lonely with his older brother moved out and his parents both working as much as Luhan's do… "我会想你想得发疯。"
"I'll miss you, too," Luhan says by Youngjae's ear, reverting briefly to Mandarin as well, and Youngjae can't get over how fluent he is in both tongues. It really isn't fair. He focuses on this unfairness in an attempt to stay the prickly tears he can feel behind his eyes. He's going to miss Luhan's smile. He's going to miss Luhan's voice. He's going to miss the late dinners and early mornings and bubble teas and uni lunches; the company-
He's going to miss Luhan.
"I'll practice my Mandarin so next time we can talk properly in either language," he promises, taking a deep breath.
Luhan grins. "I don't think we had a problem though."
"Maybe you didn't," Youngjae laughs, shoving Luhan in the shoulder. "I totally did!"
"No, you didn't…" Luhan says fondly, gently, and brushes his thumb across Youngjae's cheek. (Oh god, so he's crying after all.) "You didn't need to understand anything, Youngjae-yah. I told you, remember? And you did just fine."
"…heart, huh," Youngjae says, smiling even as he wipes at his eyes. He remembers.
"Heart," Luhan agrees, smiling back, and the hand he presses to Youngjae's chest is warm and says 我爱你.
* (home)
Back at home, Youngjae's in the middle of unpacking all his things when a large sheet of folded paper slides out of his laptop. The scrawling Mandarin on it is written in all five colours of the crayon rainbow and Youngjae makes a face, digging his electronic dictionary back out of his luggage so he can translate the few words he's missing.
I miss you already! How was your flight?
You better not forget me.
Since I generously helped you install Skype,
it's your duty to pay me back by keeping in touch.
Let's chat sometimes!
In Mandarin and Korean
with heart. ♥
I love you, Yoo Youngjae.
You're cute.
See you soon~!
PS. I've been applying to a few Korean unis for postgrad next year, so… heh.
Think you've got any room to spare?
Youngjae can't help the dumb smile that completely lifts his face when he figures out the letter's final line. He glances across the hall at his brother's empty room…
Yeah, he thinks, starting up his computer right away. There's room here, ge…
And not just at home.
He can already feel the anticipation warming his chest.
What: 5800w, G
Summary: One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood. -Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Youngjae studies abroad in Beijing to improve his Mandarin.
He stays with Luhan and meets his friends
and falls maybe just the slightest bit in love.
This is a story about some words he learned and knowledge he earned,
and the one concept he never had to study in order to understand.
Because Youngjae speaking Mandarin always melts my heart. ♥ It's a college AU, kinda? bapfiction prompted me to try this EXOxBAP challenge (thank you!) on AFF if you want to read it there. the crossover concept was super fun. :0! though i probably won't write exo again unless it's himchan/suho being rich bastards together lol I SHIP. [2013.03.13 FIX thanks to Chiharu~ *____*]
*
• ge - elder brother
• Hover over Chinese text for a translation! (If you're reading this on your phone, um. Sorry.)
• "Do your balls hurt?" (1) (2)… basically, "Don't you have anything better to do."
* (cute)
Youngjae arrives in China for three months of extra credits over uni break. He collects his luggage and fidgets his way through customs, leaving Beijing International Airport with a bundle of nerves where his heart should be.
China is crazy.
There are people everywhere but it's a different kind of bustle from Seoul. He takes a shuttle bus to the city centre wide-eyed and wrestles his suitcase onto a packed train (people climb in through the windows, what the hell!) out to the partner university he'll be attending for the duration of his stay. He's been told his host family will meet him there but the only one he finds is his host brother, Luhan.
Luhan says something in quick Mandarin, a sheepish smile on his face, and Youngjae stares at him blankly for a moment before taking his electronic dictionary back out of his pocket.
"Ah, no…" Luhan says then in much simpler terms, closing Youngjae's dictionary for him. He points to himself. "My dad, my mom… working. Always working."
"Ahh…" Youngjae says, nodding. He keeps his words clear and his pronunciation careful: "It is okay. It is nice to meet you, Luhan-ge. My name is Yoo Youngjae."
Luhan smiles and his eyes crease cutely at the corners. "I know," he says. "But it's nice to meet you, too. 你很可爱~"
Youngjae just stares blankly at him again and Luhan laughs.
* (no)
Youngjae's Mandarin isn't the most advanced mode of communication on the planet. Even if he's near the top of his class back in Korea, it's still a fairly low-level class and he hasn't been learning too long. Luhan doesn't seem to pay this any mind, jumping from topic to random topic during conversation and leaving Youngjae floundering trying to keep up.
It helps (a little) that Luhan's family speaks pretty much the most standard form of Mandarin there is but Youngjae still clutches at his electronic dictionary like a lifeline, referring to its grey screen compulsively for days until Luhan steals it and hides it and Youngjae doesn't have the vocabulary to ask for it back-or the heart to be annoyed at Luhan's angelic face for more than a couple of hours.
He tries, he really does, but the anger is hard to hold when Luhan brings out a large sketchbook and crayons (honest actual crayons in five colours) and starts to draw.
That's the happy middle ground they settle on thereafter: pictures and hand-signs with exaggerated facial expressions when Youngjae doesn't know enough words. Loath as he is to admit, it is more fun this way (if hideously inefficient-but the phrases he does pick up are easier to remember for their accompanying fond memories).
By the end of the first week Youngjae can say, "I want to watch a movie. I don't want to watch porn," and "No, I don't like what you've chosen."
(He's not nearly good enough to convey much snark in his comments yet, but the way Luhan's eyes sparkle sometimes at his retorts makes Youngjae kind of hope maybe Luhan gets it anyway.)
Youngjae falls into bed each night completely exhausted (mentally more than physically) but upon waking up the next morning with Luhan's smiling face in his personal space, he can't help but laugh and drag himself out from under the covers to do it all again.
* (bubble tea)
"Clothes," Luhan orders on one such typical morning. (This eventually progresses to, "Put on some clothes," and then "Come onnn~ get dressed already, you lazy slob! ♥" over the weeks it takes Youngjae to comprehend each preceding statement.) "I want bubble tea."
"Bubble tea," Youngjae repeats, trying to remember where he's heard the term before as he wiggles into his jeans. It takes a moment but his brain doesn't let him down: "Oh! Bubble tea. Taro… I like… bubble tea, with taro inside. And pearl." He grins at this small linguistic triumph and Luhan grins right back as if Youngjae'd just said he won a trillion yuan.
"You have good taste, Youngjae. Taro and pearl milk tea is my favourite!"
"It is your favourite? Wow!" Youngjae says and laughs when Luhan delightedly demands a high-five.
The bubble tea that morning is the absolute best he's ever had-though it's rivalled closely by his third bubble tea in Beijing, which is brought to the house courtesy of one of Luhan's friends.
On this day Youngjae trails Luhan to the front door and nearly chokes on air when their visitor is someone he's seen on TV-a regular from some talkshow variety thing that goes way too fast for Youngjae to understand (though it's funny when the hosts get dumped into water and things like that). Luhan insists on watching it every other night, and now Youngjae knows this guy is probably the reason why.
"Hey, it's been a while-!" Luhan smiles at the guy and rattles off a string of words from which Youngjae only understands 'Korean exchange student' as Luhan gestures behind himself.
The guy's eyes flicker over to Youngjae.
"Uhh, you…!" Youngjae says rather rudely by accident, trying to collect his broken Mandarin that's been scattered by excitement. The guy blinks blankly and Youngjae tries again: "Um. You… I see you yesterday. I saw?"
"No sorry, I no… know, you?" the guy says back in equally broken Korean, and Luhan looks from one to the other before absolutely pissing himself laughing, holding his sides and doubling over as he shakes and slaps his thighs. Youngjae looks at the guy in the doorway who looks back at Youngjae for a moment before wordlessly they both decide to jump Luhan and beat the living crap out of him.
It's only five minutes later when Luhan is curled up wheezing from a ruthless tickle attack and Youngjae and his newfound ally are sitting side by side on the floor, satisfied, that Youngjae turns to the guy and tries a third time: "Uh, hello. It is nice to meet you, Luhan-ge-friend. My name is Yoo Youngjae."
"Ahh~" The guy smiles, and Youngjae thinks his dimple is infinitely cuter from a foot away than through a TV screen. "Hello, Youngjae. My name is Zhang Yixing."
* (heart)
Class is hard: far harder than in Korea because Youngjae can't ask the questions he wants without thinking about them for a good five minutes (when he can even understand the content to begin with) and Luhan, that dick, still hasn't given back his electronic dictionary so Youngjae is reduced to using a borrowed paper one and sweet merciful Jesus searching by radical is not fun when you're doing it three hundred times an hour.
"Everything is hard," he complains to Luhan when they meet at the front gates after school. Luhan is a fourth year and doesn't have half as many contact hours as Youngjae, but does have a lot of friends around campus to fill in his time and he's said he doesn't mind waiting so they can both walk home together. Youngjae is grateful for this. "Everything is hard, Luhan-ge. Nothing I understand."
Luhan just laughs, amused (and Youngjae thinks he likes how amusement is Luhan's default response to everything, right along with the way his eyes light up and sparkle). "You don't need to understand anything, Youngjae."
Youngjae regards Luhan sidelong for a long moment, thinking maybe he's misheard or misunderstood. "No… I need to understand everything?" He's fairly sure understanding is important. Especially in class.
"No, Youngjae. Words are just words," Luhan smiles, and again Youngjae technically knows what's being said but still isn't quite sure he gets what Luhan's trying to tell him. "If you understand here..." Luhan presses a hand to Youngjae's chest "...then you understand enough."
"Heart?" Youngjae says in confusion.
"Heart," Luhan agrees.
Youngjae considers that. And hopes he's saying the right thing when he tells Luhan at length, "But class has no heart…"
Luhan's uncontrollable laughter isn't, unfortunately, much of a clue.
* (home)
Somewhere between their fourth and fifteenth trip to the bubble tea place, Youngjae wakes up earlier than Luhan for once (only because Luhan'd had a test and didn't sleep the night before yet still went to soccer training afterward-but Youngjae will take what he can get).
He decides to be lovely and selfless (or try) and surprise Luhan with a bubble tea and bao breakfast. Since Luhan's parents are barely home, meals come almost exclusively from takeout and various other things from carts and stalls around the block. Youngjae thinks he knows the area well enough.
[ Luhan-ge, I am going to buy for you a surprise! ♥ I will return fast ] Youngjae writes in orange and red crayon, and slips the sheet of paper under Luhan's bedroom door.
The bubble tea place is easy to find because they've been there so many times, but Youngjae can't remember the exact location Luhan's favourite bao cart. He wonders briefly if the nice old lady had maybe relocated, but every other time Luhan had led them to her in the past she'd always been a stone's throw from the bubble tea store…
Two turns in and Youngjae quickly realises he's lost.
He looks around. There are market stalls to his left and right, stretching down an alley until it curves out of sight and it's definitely not what he'd been looking for. He tries backtracking but the tiny streets wind around, sprawling out, and he can't exactly remember which corner he turned in to begin with-all the stalls look the same with hagglers and sellers yelling and hawking. No problem, Youngjae thinks. He'll just have to swallow his pride and call Luhan. They'll be able to figure something out together. It's a crushing blow to his happily-laid plans and definitely lame but better than wandering around Beijing without the slightest clue as to where…
Where he…
He can't find his phone.
Surprised, Youngjae fights down a rising panic.
There is no way he'd have left Luhan's place without his phone though-Yoo Youngjae of all people, forgetting a piece of technology? Never. But it doesn't seem to be in his bag or his pockets. He rifles through all his things twice, shoving the bubble teas aside-did he drop it somewhere? Did someone-
No, it doesn't matter, Youngjae tells himself. It's okay. It's a loss but he can still work out where he is. All he needs to do is ask for directions to the nearest train station and he'll be able to take it from there.
Simple, right? He knows those 'direction' words; he learned them second semester. He knows them-he does.
But-maybe it's the way the people talk, or maybe his own ever-increasing nervousness, but every pointing gesture and rattled-off phrase he gets from a vendor aunt or uncle is utterly indecipherable. "Oh… thank you," Youngjae smiles anyway and bows to them, ignoring the way his hands grow clammier with each (every single) word that goes over his head.
Stumbling out of a random side of the back-street market, he wanders along a sort-of-main-looking road until there are more shops-another bubble tea store!-in the unfamiliar area. He pushes through the door.
The lovely cashier girl there knows a little bit of English, and between their scraps of two languages she tries to draw out a station map on a napkin, but even looking at it Youngjae can't quite decipher where he is; and he is, by this point, about three minutes out from a complete mental breakdown.
"...uh, thank you," he manages to smile shakily, and doesn't look back when he leaves the store because the girl probably thinks he's a weirdo. (Best not to confirm it.) He wanders back out onto the footpath, staring around. From what he can see, there's a convenience store. That sort-of-main road. A couple of restaurants.
No police boxes, no Luhan and no Luhan's house.
What to do?
"Aaargh!" Youngjae exclaims in frustration, swatting away the nightmare images of wandering Beijing's labyrinthine streets forever that fly around his head. He wonders if maybe the napkin will start to make sense if he just picks a direction and walks (because tr e e, it says under one scrawly swirly landmark thing in a corner. Tree! Youngjae's no Marco Polo-Picasso himself but what even-).
Suddenly, strains of a certain obnoxious song filter through his subconscious.
Youngjae's eyes go wide.
He is fairly certain he's the only idiot on the planet who'd let his host brother set Super Girl as his own ringtone-
Rummaging feverishly through his bag again, he follows the vibrations and tinny entreaties of 我是你的 Super Man!s down, down-inside the plastic bag that his two perspiring bubble teas are wrapped in.
(Let it never be said that Yoo Youngjae doesn't appreciate technology of all sorts: finding the little 8-bit, 12-key functioning rental brick makes him feel like he's won the lottery. It's a little damp but still definitely ringing and the caller ID is definitely Luhan's and Youngjae almost wants to cry for all these new and happy reasons.)
"Luhan-ge!" he exclaims, mixing Korean and Mandarin into the speaker with his overwhelming gratefulness: "Oh my god, I'm so glad you called. I so happy. My phone-I, I'd thought I lost it…"
"Are you okay, Youngjae?" Luhan asks in careful Mandarin, concerned. "You said 'come back fast' but it's been two hours… I was worried."
"I am… uh." Youngjae pauses, realising he doesn't actually know the right word for lost/displaced/off-course/missing/help me. "I… where am I?" he tries, hoping Luhan won't just think he's playing around or being cheeky. "Luhan-ge, where am I? I don't know…"
Luhan seems to sense the distress in his voice-the serious note doesn't leave his own. "I don't know either, Youngjae. What is around you? What do you see?" There's a soft thudding of shoes in the background of the call and Youngjae can all but imagine Luhan already pulling on his sneakers in the foyer. Superman-ge, he thinks, looking up and down the road.
One by one he reads out all the store names he can, starting with the bubble tea place, describing characters radical by radical when he can't deduce a meaning or pronunciation. It feels like a pretty futile effort but Luhan keeps him talking and just the sound of Luhan's voice and breath-he's running, occasionally dropping an 'excuse me' aside-helps put a lid on Youngjae's situational panic. Minutes pass. Maybe ten. Maybe thirty.
"Ah-!" Luhan shouts at length, and then the line goes dead.
Youngjae stares at his phone in horror-Ah!? What's happened?-before light feet thunder up to him and suddenly, strong wiry arms almost lift him off the sidewalk in a laughing blur of honey-brown hair. "Youuu! You idiot, Youngjae!" Luhan exclaims. "I've found you!"
The relief is intense. Youngjae doesn't know what to say, clinging to Luhan's shirt. "Luhan-ge…"
"Do you know how many of these stores even exist around here?!" Luhan demands. He's breathing hard and kind of glowing from his run.
Youngjae hugs him as tight as he can. "I don't know. I am sorry, ge… Thank you found me…"
Surprisingly, Luhan just chuckles. "It's okay. This was the first store I decided to check. Pretty cool, huh?"
"Cool," Youngjae repeats in agreement, pulling back suddenly when he remembers his purchases. Digging through his bag, he brings out the two lukewarm bubble teas. "Cool surprise for you?"
"Wow~ gee thanks, Youngjae. And with a bonus heart attack, too! I'm sooo lucky-not," Luhan says but he's laughing, his eyes creased cutely at the corners.
Youngjae smiles. Luhan reaches over and squashes his cheeks.
"Come on, you idiot," Luhan says, taking a bubble tea and Youngjae's hand. "Let's get you home."
Luhan doesn't let go the whole way there and Youngjae finds himself walking closer to Luhan's side and lacing their fingers tighter, ignoring all the aunts and uncles who side-eye them. Beijing is still kind of a rabbit-hole crazy place, he thinks, but there's just something about being with Luhan that makes the crush of 20-million people easier to handle…
(If Youngjae suspects it has less to do with Luhan's home ground advantage and everything to do with how Luhan just feels like home lately, he doesn't have the right words to say so out loud… but hopes that maybe Luhan gets it anyway.)
* (a little)
The week after that harrowing ordeal, Youngjae meets Kris and Tao-or Yifan and Zitao; they go by either name, Luhan says. (Apparently Kris has about five.)
Luhan catches Youngjae's wrist by the school gates and drags him back inside and across campus to the sports centre.
"We are not go home?" Youngjae asks.
Luhan grins at him, explaining it simply: "Not yet. My friends play basketball. Today is the final game." He drags Youngjae right onto the centre court where there's a whole bunch of students milling about pre-game. They part like almost biblical waters when Luhan walks through them though, and not for the first time Youngjae wonders just who exactly Luhan is (or seems to be) to almost everyone on campus. "Kris, our captain!" Luhan introduces the bleached one, and "Tao! Power forward," the dark-haired one with equally dark eyes.
Youngjae bows politely. "It is nice to meet you both. I am Youngjae."
"Oh. Hey, Youngjae. Luhan said you're from Korea; that's pretty cool," Kris tells Youngjae in passable Korean. He looks kind of fierce about the brows but the way he speaks has a warm tone and Youngjae finds himself smiling though their conversation is short-lived.
"Captaaain, stop talking in languages I can't understand," Tao whines.
Luhan also frowns. "We are in China and Youngjae is here to learn. Please use Mandarin."
"Sorry, sorry," Kris says-then, in another language, "Oh wait, do you know English?"
"Mandarin, Wu Yifan," Luhan insists and Youngjae laughs.
"I know… small English," Youngjae says, sticking with Mandarin and pleased to see Luhan appeased.
"A little English," Tao corrects.
Youngjae tries again: "I know a little English?"
Tao grins. "Yep, and I know some, too! My English name is Edison."
"Edison is a cool name," Youngjae smiles, and just has to wonder if all of Luhan's friends are as cute and amusing as Luhan himself is, because it sure seems that way.
The match later that evening is a fierce contest though. Youngjae has his heart in his throat, slapping Luhan's hands away when Luhan clutches at him, shrieking, every time Kris jumps for a 3-pointer. When Tao actually dunks like Air Jordan right on the buzzer to seal the game, the entire sports hall lifts off its feet in euphoria.
Scratch that, Youngjae thinks, laughing as he spins (and is spun by) Luhan in giddy half-circles when the crowd pours out of their seats and into the aisles. Cute and cool. Luhan's friends are definitely all cute and cool.
* (alone)
Youngjae still misses his friends back home, though.
It's nothing he can help, the bummed feeling unstoppable sometimes even if he completely enjoys where he's currently at.
One such quiet night Luhan helps him download a version of Skype onto his laptop that isn't the China version.
"I can't believe I have to help a tech-head like you with this though," Luhan says. "Don't you already have Skype anyway?" Youngjae doesn't explicitly understand every word, but he gets the gist of Luhan's gripes from his tone and his gestures and his aggressive left-clicking.
"No Skype," Youngjae says, dejected. "I use phone in Korea. I use my phone and LINE." But his Korean phone is currently substituted out for an 8-bit rental brick (which Youngjae still loves, okay; it just can't do an awful lot) and his LINE PC version isn't currently working and Youngjae is too tired to bother figuring out why. He's at a point where he just wants to talk to his parents or friends not via chat or mail for once, and hear them in person…
"There we go," Luhan says.
Youngjae gives him a grateful look. "Thanks, Luhan-ge."
"No problem," Luhan says with a half-smile, going back to his soccer magazine and Rubik's Cube on the end of Youngjae's bed.
Youngjae scrolls through his imported contacts and wonders who to call. His parents aren't online, nor his older brother. Of those who are (and he actually wants to talk to in a mood like this), there's Daehyun, the busker from Busan who became Youngjae's karaoke soulmate and buffet buddy over a family holiday some years ago; and Himchan, originally an acquaintance of Youngjae's brother, who Youngjae had somehow hit it off with after only meeting a couple of times-
Himchan is actually just a day older than Luhan is, Youngjae realises when he thinks about it, and his decision about who to call is made for him when Himchan calls first. His raspy voice sounds out over the laptop speakers: "Youngjae-yah! I didn't know you used Skype? Where have you been? All my LINE messages are still unread and it's been ages since I've seen you anywhere; you've like, dropped off the face of the planet!"
Youngjae can't help a smile at Himchan's typically exuberant 300 words per minute. Some things at least never change. "Ah, yeah. It's because I'm in China right now, hyung..."
"You're-wait, you're what?!" For some reason Himchan finds this statement hysterical and spends the next five minutes in stitches as Youngjae tries to tell him about language school and Luhan and life (getting lost) in Beijing.
Himchan's laugh-his true laugh, not his polite chuckle-is frankly awful and makes him look like a rat-horse hybrid, Youngjae thinks, but he loves it. It's contagious and unrestrained and really doesn't take long to lift Youngjae's tired mood. "What have you been up to, hyung?" Youngjae asks back and spends the next ten minutes listening to Himchan tell him about his political internship-or mostly: the Assistant Minister he reports to is kind of eh, but his son who is also at the office, oh god, that boy is such a little cutie, his name is Kim Junmyeon; Youngjae should totally come meet him when he's back in Seoul, okay? They can have lunch.
"Really? Youngjae says, amused, and doesn't even mind that asking just sets Himchan talking on and on again without respite-it's so good to hear actual Korean after so long, words Youngjae understands without having to concentrate, jokes and side-references all completely and effortlessly intact… Youngjae sighs.
"How's things though, really?" Himchan says then, and a little too late Youngjae remembers that although Himchan is a chatterbox, he's also kind of sensitive. Oops. "How are you really? Are you eating properly? Is your host family treating you well? You sound tired."
"Everything's fine, hyung," Youngjae smiles. "I mean it's frustrating sometimes since it's hard to say things the way I want to, but my host brother is really the most amazing person… no, I'm serious! He helps me so much and he's thoughtful and nice and buys me food and saved me when I was lost. I kind of wish he was my real brother, except for how he's way cute. I kinda…" He stops, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at what Luhan's doing-if he's listening, even though he probably wouldn't understand a word. (He's probably listening. Luhan is attentive like that.)
"Well~ doesn't that sound interesting," Himchan teases. "I should like to meet him one day if given the chance. In the meantime don't bite off more than you can chew, Yoo Youngjae, though knowing you and your iron stomach that's a pretty useless order. Oh, hey! Though speaking of food, there was this amazing barbecue place Junmyeon showed me the other day; I took Jonguppie to celebrate his graduation and when you get back we should totally-"
It's nearly an hour later and way past his usual bedtime when Youngjae finally ends the conversation and shuts down his computer. He sits there for a while after the screen's gone dark, just staring at it for no reason he can fathom. He's not sure what he's feeling at his quiet desk-that's-not-his, in his quiet room-that's-not-his-either, trying to collect himself. (From what though, he's not sure. Because it's not like he's alone. It's not like he's scattered.)
"Lonely?" Luhan asks softly into the silence, and hearing Mandarin again is almost jarring except for how the syllables just roll off Luhan's tongue the way Youngjae hopes they'll be able to roll off his own in the future. "Are you lonely, Youngjae?"
Youngjae turns around with a lopsided smile. He knows this question, and provides the appropriate response based on Luhan's frequent conversations with Yixing: "Do your balls hurt, ge?"
Luhan smiles. "Okay," he says. "I'll take that as a no."
(If, that night, Luhan falls asleep on Youngjae's bed and Youngjae doesn't have the heart to wake him, neither of them complains it's too warm with two people under the covers instead of one and barely any space between.
Under the faint, first morning light Youngjae thinks Luhan's sleeping face is as beautiful as his smile under the daytime sun, and there's no way Youngjae can be lonely like this. He can't. He's not anymore.
He wonders if, maybe, then, the lingering hollow feeling in his chest comes from the fact that he knows it will soon have to end.)
* (dawn)
There's a subtle change between them in the weeks that follow.
Instead of throwing open the curtains and making demands, Luhan takes to waking Youngjae by brushing gentle fingers through his unruly hair with a soft, sing-song, "Youngjae~ wake up, Jae."
He holds Youngjae's hand while dragging him through campus and they have lunch together, studying for tests or watching Kris and Tao play.
At one point, Luhan even introduces Youngjae to another Korean exchange student-a long-term one named Kim Jongdae, who goes by 'Chen' in China.
"Oh, so this is him," Chen says blandly in textbook-perfect Mandarin that is everything Youngjae hopes his own will be within a year or so. "The cute little brother you keep talking about. Interesting."
Luhan gives Chen an evil eye but Chen seems unperturbed and Youngjae finds himself a little bit awed-it's kind of rare to find anyone immune to Luhan's wiles. In fact, Youngjae doesn't think he's ever seen anyone like Chen before.
Amusingly enough Luhan doesn't let Youngjae meet Chen again after that, instead dragging him over to lunch with a different exchange student, Kim Minseok, whose Chinese name is Xiumin (but Luhan just calls him baozi). Youngjae and Xiumin's Mandarin levels turn out to be much closer than Youngjae and Chen's anyway, and the two of them spend many subsequent lunches stutter-talking animatedly with gestures and laughs while Luhan joins in and helps them along, correcting their speech only when he has to.
Luhan calls them both his 'two favourite bao-faced boys' and Youngjae doesn't really know what to make of that, but Xiumin is cute and doesn't seem to mind the title (or sharing it) so he supposes it can't be all bad.
* (day)
"Wow," Youngjae says weeks later in front of the TV, stunned to suddenly realise that he comprehends the evening news with the help of pictures-and even a little of that variety show Yixing is on (they call him Lay there, though) with no pictures at all. "I can understand… a lot. Somehow."
Luhan's smile is beaming as he sets his takeaway box aside and subjects Youngjae to strangling hug-arms, complete with a loud and inelegant kiss on the cheek. "Aww, baby's grown up so fast! Big brother's so proud of you~"
Laughing, Youngjae tries to fight Luhan away without spilling fried rice all over the floor. "Hey! Yuck! Ge, you taste like chow mein…"
"Do I?" Luhan asks with point blank amusement before Youngjae realises he'd meant to say smell rather than taste. Oh… whoops. "How do you know, huh? Do you want to know?"
"…I… don't know…" Youngjae says. "I don't know you taste like chow mein… but, you smell like…"
Luhan collapses back against the couch and rubs his hands over his face, eyes glittering. "My god, could you be any less romantic, Yoo Youngjae?" he says, and for all Youngjae's lingual progress he doesn't at all understand the phrase Luhan uses in that moment-but Luhan's still amused, still smiling, so Youngjae lets it slide and supposes it doesn't really matter.
As long as Luhan's happy.
* (dusk)
"我会想你想得发疯、" Luhan says on a late night, quietly.
Youngjae is in Luhan's bed this time, curled up under the blankets exhausted from their impromptu soccer match that afternoon (he'd accidentally headed a ball with his face and his split lip hurt, damnit). Luhan sits beside him with a science text he's not really reading.
Youngjae's eyes are too heavy from warmth and the way Luhan's fingers stroke calmly through his hair.
Already mostly asleep, he doesn't manage to translate the phrase-doesn't so much as stir-before his mind shuts down and he's out like a light.
The final days fly by.
* (love)
Luhan skips class to see Youngjae to the airport, insisting on it though Youngjae tells him not to worry. Youngjae is grateful.
They keep quiet company on the train and bus, Luhan's head resting on Youngjae's shoulder and Youngjae's cheek pressed into Luhan's hair, both tired from staying up all night talking. Youngjae doesn't let go of Luhan's hand ever and it's pretty funny (read: fail) trying to wrestle his luggage around like this, but definitely worth it to see Luhan's smile at their own ridiculousness (because Luhan doesn't let go of Youngjae's hand ever either).
Hours pass.
Youngjae checks in.
His flight is called to board.
Youngjae hesitates by the security gates, watching people get wanded through the double doors. There's a bit of a queue but he still doesn't want to leave yet.
"Go on, Youngjae. Don't you have a plane to catch?" Luhan says, nudging their linked hands toward the departure area.
"Don't it seem I am stuck here?" Youngjae counters, nudging their linked hands right back. "Stuck to you..."
Luhan's wry, teasing smile is soft and familiar and he presses a kiss to Youngjae's cheek. "I wish you could be," he murmurs, and for a moment Youngjae doesn't even register his switch to Korean it's so fluid. "I'm going to miss you so much, Youngjae-yah."
'Youngjae-yah…'
Youngjae stares at Luhan in shock. "What was that? Did you just-?"
Luhan grins bright with barely-contained laughter. "Next time I go to Korea let me visit your place, okay? I want to meet your parents, too."
"Next time you-Jesus Christ, hyung!" Youngjae exclaims, stunned, and can't stop staring because Luhan's Seoul accent is better than Daehyun's, what the actual hell. "You never told me you knew Korean!"
Luhan laughs, sweet and melodic. "Well you didn't come all the way to China to hear my Korean, did you?" he says, and Youngjae can't come up with a response for that. No, he didn't, but it would have been nice to-
"Oh my god," he says. "Oh my god…"
"I did middle school and high school in Seoul," Luhan explains, and Youngjae feels his head just spin.
"You are unbelievable, hyung!" he says. "I really can't believe you spent this whole time pretending not to know a single word I-!" He suddenly bites his tongue remembering the conversation he'd had with Himchan over Skype. Luhan had been sitting right there. Listening to the whole thing. Actually listening. "Oh my god…!"
Luhan just laughs again and gathers Youngjae into a tight hug. "Is it that big a deal? You have a plane to catch, babo-yah. Unless you're going to miss me enough that you really have decided to stay…"
Oh my god, Youngjae thinks. I can't believe… "It's… tempting," he manages, forcing his brain back into gear. He'll enjoy being home, but it'll be lonely with his older brother moved out and his parents both working as much as Luhan's do… "我会想你想得发疯。"
"I'll miss you, too," Luhan says by Youngjae's ear, reverting briefly to Mandarin as well, and Youngjae can't get over how fluent he is in both tongues. It really isn't fair. He focuses on this unfairness in an attempt to stay the prickly tears he can feel behind his eyes. He's going to miss Luhan's smile. He's going to miss Luhan's voice. He's going to miss the late dinners and early mornings and bubble teas and uni lunches; the company-
He's going to miss Luhan.
"I'll practice my Mandarin so next time we can talk properly in either language," he promises, taking a deep breath.
Luhan grins. "I don't think we had a problem though."
"Maybe you didn't," Youngjae laughs, shoving Luhan in the shoulder. "I totally did!"
"No, you didn't…" Luhan says fondly, gently, and brushes his thumb across Youngjae's cheek. (Oh god, so he's crying after all.) "You didn't need to understand anything, Youngjae-yah. I told you, remember? And you did just fine."
"…heart, huh," Youngjae says, smiling even as he wipes at his eyes. He remembers.
"Heart," Luhan agrees, smiling back, and the hand he presses to Youngjae's chest is warm and says 我爱你.
* (home)
Back at home, Youngjae's in the middle of unpacking all his things when a large sheet of folded paper slides out of his laptop. The scrawling Mandarin on it is written in all five colours of the crayon rainbow and Youngjae makes a face, digging his electronic dictionary back out of his luggage so he can translate the few words he's missing.
I miss you already! How was your flight?
You better not forget me.
Since I generously helped you install Skype,
it's your duty to pay me back by keeping in touch.
Let's chat sometimes!
In Mandarin and Korean
with heart. ♥
I love you, Yoo Youngjae.
You're cute.
See you soon~!
PS. I've been applying to a few Korean unis for postgrad next year, so… heh.
Think you've got any room to spare?
Youngjae can't help the dumb smile that completely lifts his face when he figures out the letter's final line. He glances across the hall at his brother's empty room…
Yeah, he thinks, starting up his computer right away. There's room here, ge…
And not just at home.
He can already feel the anticipation warming his chest.