{exo} a different kind of falling (ii/ii)
title: a different kind of falling (ii/ii)
pairing: Luhan/Xiumin
word count: 11150w
rating: nc-17
summary: They fall in love, and fall apart, and try to go back where they were before the fallout.
warning: mediocre attempt at a porn scene
a/n: i forgot to add this in my previous note, but do try listening to this song, which help me set the mood for this fic uwu
<<| pt. 1
22
Minseok knows that the first time they met was one of the very generic stories of typical college guys knowing each other from this one class they have together for one semester, sharing passing glances and quiet nods in acknowledgement, and then hitting it off with one event that made them grow closer. That part has never been fun to talk about at all, but it’s a given that he’s quite fond of retelling how they actually got to talk to each other outside the bounds of schoolwork and the occasional greetings out of respect, even if it was kind of embarrassing.
Luhan would still always profusely apologize whenever this story is retold, but Minseok only laughs, thinking it’s adorable how Luhan still looks as sheepish as he did that day when they first actually talked to each other.
He doesn’t tell anyone about how they got together though. He still thinks that it’s something he wants to hold on to-to keep to himself. He wants to have something that only he and Luhan knows, but that would only probably happen if Luhan shuts his mouth for once about how adorable of a boyfriend Minseok is, never failing to make him flush to the roots of his hair.
It actually starts out like any other day-there’s no rain to share an umbrella for (and probably kiss underneath it) or snow where they could have snowball fights and lie on the cold ground to make snow angels together, or cherry blossoms falling so they could walk hand-in-hand by the park, admiring the scenery. It wasn’t even night time, and the atmosphere wasn’t highly romantic. Truth be told, it wasn’t even a romantic setting at all. There was only just the scorching heat of the sun on a hot day a few weeks before the beginning of summer break, the high temperature leaving beads of sweat that are quick to form on Minseok’s forehead and neck that he stopped bothering to wipe them off anymore. He’s heading to the library, alone, backpack slung over both of his shoulders, when he gets that feeling of someone watching him.
On other occasions, he would have freaked out, running straight to a crowded place to lose that person in a maze of mobs, but doesn’t need to take a glance to know who this person is. He stops walking, thankful for the fact that there wasn’t anyone within the vicinity that was within earshot, because he would’ve looked like an idiot if his hunches were wrong. “Come on Luhan, I know you’re hiding there.” He says in a loud voice, his words almost reverberating back at him in an echo from the silence shrouding the entire place.
“No I’m not!” Luhan denies quickly, voice rising in defiance, and he almost visibly slaps his own forehead for having such a slip-up.
“Really Luhan, really?” Minseok says, clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but there isn’t any disapproval in his expression at all. In fact, he’s smiling. But Luhan doesn’t see this, so Minseok schools his expression into a serious one when Luhan finally decides to give up the charades with an exasperated sigh and a dispirited, “Fine,” stepping out of an old tree whose large trunk has kept him hidden from view up until a while ago.
“It’s scary how you know that I’m following you. It’s like you’ve got this radar attached to your head, looking out for me.” Luhan mumbles, head bent low in shame, but Minseok doesn’t quite hear it.
“And?” Minseok asks, eyebrows raised.
Luhan tries to not look too disappointed; not to look too guilty. “And what?”
Minseok taps a well-polished shoe on the dry ground, and his shoes start getting dusty too. “Care to explain yourself?”
“Why would I need to explain myself? You’re not going to answer my question, anyway.”
Minseok sighs, because why can’t just Luhan listen to him for once? “I already told you I-“
“Just tell me Minseok-is it a yes or a no? It’s as simple as that.” Luhan cuts him off, impatient, and Minseok hasn’t seen him looking this uneasy before. He bites his bottom lip and the action draws Luhan’s attention away from his eyes and into his mouth.
“I like you, but you know I can’t. I need to focus on my studies for now. I really need to graduate on time.”
“Then it’s a yes!” Luhan shouts with a cheer.
“Luhan, did you not hear what I just said?” Minseok asks in disbelief.
“Yeah, I did. I have perfect hearing, and I just heard you say you liked me too!” Luhan says with a shit-eating grin, and Minseok regrets that he’s ever said that at all.
“Luhan, can you not behave like this right now.” Minseok drags a hand across his face with a groan at the impossibility of Luhan’s case. “I’m being serious here.”
“Well I’m being serious too,” Luhan grabs his hand for emphasis. “I like you, you like me, let’s put two and two together and not make this complicated, shall we?”
“If you insist. He says with a small smile. “But let me warn you, I almost always stay in the library whenever I get a vacant time.”
“Library dates. Wonderful.” Well a lot of even worse things could have been in the middle of them all, but Luhan’s okay with that. “And it’s almost summer! You’re not only going to study all summer, aren’t you?” he asks Minseok, sounding doubtful, because it’s just like Minseok to study even during the summer, but not so much that he’s letting himself delve deep into his books and notes that he’ll forget to go out with his friends whenever they invite him over to play video games or to eat out. Minseok only gives him a laugh as an answer.
“Okay then, it’s set.” Luhan claps his hands together once, as if they’ve been having a meeting for a project they’re doing for one of their classes and he’s just finished assigning committee members. “It’s not like we’re getting married already, geez. I’m willing to take things painfully slow for you, Minseok.” He says with a wink.
“That was both cheesy and perverted in all the worst ways possible.” Minseok comments, but he’s laughing, and the smile he has on is one of the most carefree ones that Luhan has ever seen on him.
He decides he loves that smile of Minseok’s the most.
28
When they meet again, things are different. But not quite so.
Minseok is in the school supplies section of the mall, looking for a new notebook to write his annotations in, having had filled his old one from each end. He’s still quite choosy in picking his materials, a habit that hasn’t died down even when he’s nearing thirty. He isn’t sure if it’s a good quality of his or not, most especially when he suddenly bumps into someone he hasn’t seen for almost two years. In his search for a notebook, he finds something else instead.
Or in this case, someone. Someone who he hasn’t quite talked to in a long time.
Luhan looks far better now than when they were still together. He’s gained quite a bit of weight, but it isn’t that bad type of weight gain, just enough to fill his body in that he looks more around his age now instead of the pre-pubescent teenager that everyone else thinks he still is at first glance. The circles in his eyes disappeared.
He’s happier, maybe. Minseok doesn’t know how to put it any other way.
Minseok gapes, because he hadn’t known that Luhan would still be in this part of town. Especially when the last time they saw each other, he seemed greatly intent in forgetting anything that had to with their relationship.
And Luhan didn’t know why he’s still stayed, when he could so much as easily go back to Beijing and live there. It wouldn’t have been hard-his family was there, who would always support him in whatever endeavors he had, now that they’ve realized that even though he might get hurt with the decisions he makes, he doesn’t regret any of them; not even Minseok. His friends, he knows, would back him up if he does end up in a sticky situation.
He knows that his home is right there, in Beijing, but he just might have made a home as well here, in Seoul, with Kim Minseok. And even if they’re separated, there was still this driving force that kept him rooted there, telling him no, it’s still not time to leave, just wait a little longer. And maybe this was that moment, the right time for them to decide what to do from then on.
“Hi,” Minseok says, his voice almost coming to a stutter. It’s hesitant, awkward, even, but it’s a first. There is hesitance in Luhan’s eyes, Minseok is sure of it, but he finally breaks the silence that followed. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you that time, when you called.”
He knows he doesn’t need to explain further, because despite the fact that it’s been a year since that has happened, he knows that Minseok would know.
And of course, Minseok would remember. How would he forget, when he still remembers the cold feeling of rejection, like cold water being splashed into his face just as he has woken up to reality? How could he forget everything that had to do anything with Luhan, when he still remembers the lingering feeling of Luhan’s warm lips against his during the first time they kissed? “It’s okay, I don’t blame you for reacting that way.”
“At least I got to hear your voice,” was what he actually meant to say.
Luhan looks away, looks at everything but Minseok. He knows they did this both to each other, but as usual, it’s him who’s affected the most. “Are you free? I still owe you a conversation, after all.” He says, picking an imaginary lint from the hem of his shirt.
Minseok reaches out, about to touch him lightly in the shoulder - shove him playfully, maybe - but he doesn’t. He lowers his hand back to his sides before Luhan could even notice the slight movement. But he’s a fool to think that the other man didn’t notice at all, and it sends a sharp pang into his heart. “I owe you a date, right?”
In every possible way, Minseok remembered that they were perfect.
In every possible way, Luhan remembered that they could have been what Romeo and Juliet weren’t. That they didn’t need to die together to prove their love for one another, but rather spend what little parts of forever they had, for as long as they lived.
But of course, it doesn’t exactly go the way things are planned.
Minseok pushes the opened lid of the can of beer into his mouth, and the cold liquid that rushes into his throat makes him almost shiver, adding up to the coldness of the air. It’s autumn, and clearly, he should’ve worn something thicker. But how could he have known that he was going to stay out at night with his ex-lover instead of going straight to his own apartment, anyway?
Luhan tips his own head back to drink, letting the taste of the fluid settle in his tongue first before swallowing it. The Han River isn’t exactly the setting that he’d hoped for, the place sometimes crowded with lovers who are actually still together (which he and Minseok clearly aren't anymore). It reminds him of their past and all the bittersweet memories that run along those lines, but he thinks it’s okay enough. In their spot by the riverbank, where you couldn’t see most of the people if you don’t turn your head around, it’s peaceful.
He doesn’t know if it’s courage that pushed him to say something or if the alcohol was finally running through its effects, but he’s the first to speak. He always was.
"When I walked out of our apartment, I couldn’t help but think that this is it, it’s over. It’s all over, and I didn’t even do anything about it. I thought about how we promised each other that we’d always be together, but look at where it got us. We made promises that we thought would always last forever, but lost them in a blink of an eye.” Luhan confesses. “The days passed, and I thought I could just forget everything, but I only wanted you.” He peeks at Minseok through his bangs (his hair has gotten really long, he thinks distractedly. He should probably cut it soon) “I could only want you."
“Does that mean,” Minseok almost chokes, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even stop them. “That you still love me?”
“You want the truth, Minseok?” Luhan exhales loudly. “Because the truth is, in that whole year, I spent every time missing you. But the thing is, until now, I still don't think it was a waste of time." And Luhan’s finally, finally looking at him again. Looking him in the eye, with that expression that he’s grown to familiarize with. It’s the same expression he wore back when he told Minseok “I love you”, not because he wanted to hear it being said back, but just for the sake of saying it.
Minseok opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again. Opens, and closes. His lips tremble. He stops with a sigh. Luhan just gives him a crooked smile, raising his own can of beer as if to encourage Minseok.
And Minseok tries to get some of that courage himself by downing all of the contents of his beer can in one go. What’s keeping him from saying anything, anyway?
Fear, maybe. Being ignored, most likely. Rejection, probably. Trying and failing again, to put it quite accurately.
To hell with it, Minseok thinks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Because after all these years, after all those relationships that didn’t work out before he met Luhan, he has realized that the pain of not knowing hurts far more than the pain of rejection.
"Can I be honest with you too, Luhan?” he asks. But even when Luhan doesn’t respond, distractedly staring at something in his face, eyes glazing over as if he’s stuck a few galaxies away, Minseok still continues. “I still think of you sometimes, and I try to tell myself that it doesn't hurt anymore, but who am I kidding?"
Luhan purses his lips, still not taking his eyes off of Minseok, as if the moment he looks away, Minseok would vanish into thin air, never to return again. "You know what, I dreamt last night that you came back, and that you said that you were sorry, and that I hugged you, and that everything was okay," he pauses, sighing as if in defeat. "That we were okay. Even when I woke up, I kept convincing myself that it was real."
Minseok couldn’t blame Luhan. He had dreams like that, too. But the thing is, in his dreams, he never left Luhan in the first place. In his dreams, they were still the perfect couple. But his dreams will only forever remain as dreams if he never does anything about it. “But we can make it real.”
Luhan gives out a hollow laugh, as if the suggestion wasn’t that bad, but still not enough. “Can we, really?”
And Minseok gets bolder in his actions, finally reaching out to Luhan to touch his shoulder, if only lightly. But Luhan doesn’t flinch away, doesn’t seem to register the action as going far from an imaginary line that Minseok has set between them, not wanting to displease Luhan any further. He doesn’t know that Luhan craved his touch- had been controlling himself to not jump on Minseok the first time they saw each other again, even.
“You probably think that things didn’t work out because we really aren’t for each other, and like other couples, we grow apart and grow tired of each other.” He tries explaining. “But I didn’t grow tired of you. I never stopped loving you at all. It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. I was happy with you, but my mind was a mess.”
And Luhan’s lips quirk if only the slightest bit to form a smile.
“To be honest, I didn’t know either.”
Minseok knows he shouldn’t hope, but it kind of feels like Luhan is giving him a second chance.
“It’s just...” Minseok huffs, frustrated. He isn’t really good with talking about feelings, choosing to listen to other people and show his own affections through actions. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know no matter how many times I get to tell you I’m sorry, I can never take it back, and it’ll never quite be the same, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret every moment that I’ve let you down.”
“I know,” Luhan says, giving him a genuine smile this time-a smile that he has always loved. “I’ve forgiven you already. A long time ago, even before you said sorry. Even before I completely walked out of that apartment. Even when I didn’t answer your call.”
There’s silence after that, but it’s not awkward. It’s befitting, somehow. But it would only last a few moments before Luhan gets sick of the peace and starts asking Minseok questions about how his life had been. And Minseok would ask him back, not to be polite, but because he’s genuinely curious.
This is how they find themselves entangled in each other’s lives once more.
And then Luhan feels tingles in his nerves again, prompting him to ask what Minseok thinks. So he does just that.
“Do you think we could have gotten back together again if only we tried?”
Minseok hums a short, quiet tune that Luhan remembers waking up to that he’s kind of automatically associated it with bright mornings and home. “Maybe. Maybe not. Really, who knows? But it’s not something we should be dwelling in anymore, because it’s all in the past. You’re happy now, I guess, and I’m-“he pauses. How could he perfectly describe what kind of life he’s leading right now in just one word? Miserable? A wreck?
There a lot more options coming from an array of words associated with great deals of sadness, but he realizes that he’s not really sad. Lonely, maybe. In love with Luhan, still quite so. But definitely not regretful of having had known Luhan. “Content.” He says, with a smile. Because as sappy as it may sound, in all honesty, he’s happy seeing Luhan happy. “We shouldn’t let the past settle back in our lives and hinder us from taking a step forward-from stopping us from seeing what the future might exactly bring.”
Luhan smirks. How could Minseok even think that he’s happy, when this is the first time they’ve spoken to each other in over a year?
But he isn’t exactly sad, either. And he couldn’t say that he regrets anything at all. When Minseok left, he tried leaving his comfort zone, too. He tried out different jobs part-time, met new people who he mostly became fast friends with. He went out exploring things that he hasn’t tried before (so long as it was legal, because he didn’t want to disturb one of his friends in the middle of the night to get him bailed out of jail when they might as well have went to a noraebang instead), never would’ve dared try for the sake of Minseok’s sanity. But in that time, he was free.
“Spoken like a true literature graduate. Seriously Minseok, you’re still a nerd.” Luhan playfully punches him in the arm, and they laugh. They laugh at how ironic it is that they were once friends, and past lovers, and now friends again from an unspoken agreement, somehow. They laugh at how stupid they had been for letting each other go and not holding on tighter.
They laugh, because it would be no use to cry for what could have been.
They were perfect for each other, but they just couldn’t be together that way anymore. At least, not right now. So instead, they settle for what they have left and try to mend the gaps that the past has left behind.
21
To be fair, Minseok really didn’t know it was coming until it hit him. Quite literally, actually.
He was half-sprinting, half-jogging to get to the soccer field, where all the other members of the football team were either already going through warm-ups or about to begin with the drills. Their coach is probably checking his wristwatch now, scanning the team members for his face, because he knows that Minseok was never late, never went missing, never had to take a pass from practice. But this day is different, because he just had to misplace his cleats, and he’s trying to run discreetly, because running in the hallways wasn’t permitted.
He barely registers the presence of two other people in front of him, and he’s swerving to the left to make a turn to exit the doors of the campus when it happens.
The blow was made before Minseok could even notice the hand in front of his face and react, and the force hits him greatly that he almost reels back, stumbling, but not completely toppling over yet. Fortunately, Minseok is able to regain his balance and he blinks, stars dotting his vision. The floor seems to be moving, and clearly, that’s not a telltale sign of anything good happening at all.
And then all of a sudden a hand is on his back, worried shouts from a different language he didn't understand coming from the person, as if he was telling someone to scram and go get paramedics. Or at least, that was what Minseok hoped.
"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" he finally says in fluent Korean that Minseok briefly wonders whether he really has spoken in a different language earlier. He looks up, hands still cupped over half of his face, still unable to completely process if this is really happening or not. It probably is though, judging from the stinging pain blooming in his nose.
And when they meet eye-to-eye, Minseok takes note of his features, realizing that there he is, that guy from his psychology class, worry wrinkling his features. And the guy who boisterously laughed during that one lesson on dreams seemed so far away now. Even so, he still has that fragile, innocent look about him, but his gaze is strong, holding Minseok in place.
The world stops spinning and Minseok is able to clearly focus his eyes on the person in front of him, and it’s as if Luhan is the only other person there. Call it cheesy, but he isn’t tweaking the story to add a romantic effect when he says that during that moment, it’s as if everything falls into a monochromatic shade, and Luhan is the only person in Technicolor, clear and bright, and everything is bland and lifeless compared to the person right in front of him now. He knows his place, and he makes a promise to shut up whenever his friends are watching romantic flicks, because it feels like he’s experiencing one for himself right now.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Minseok almost rolls his eyes, but his head hurts, and it wouldn’t be one of the good things to attribute to making a great first impression. It was then that he affirmed that not everyone could have it all; a good example of which being that Luhan was, for lack of any better words, fairly stupid. “I just got hit in the face, of course it hurts,” he almost points out, but he doesn't say the obvious out loud and instead opts to say, "I think you broke my nose." which was, fairly enough, a summarized version of the whole truth.
Thankfully, Luhan was smart enough to not poke around for more details, volunteering to accompany Minseok straight to the infirmary, where he said he had his friend call the attention of the school nurse to get some supplies ready.
Are you awake?” was the first thing that Minseok hears when he wakes up. He was told by the infirmary’s nurse to take a rest and he complied, thinking that the pain would somehow ease when he gets some rest, but it isn’t entirely true.
He wonders for a moment if the person asking him has peas instead of a brain or whether the said person just likes pointing out the obvious, but he doesn’t want to be disrespectful, given that this person just went out of his way to accompany him to the infirmary (even if it was his fault in the first place).
The guy scuffles closer to the bed where Minseok is lying down, helping him out as he props himself up into a sitting position. In the middle of the treatment, he remembers falling asleep; the stinging pain in his nose having seemed to have reached his head, too. He blames himself for not observing well before running around in his hurry, but mostly he blames this weird guy who’s now looking at him... well, weirdly.
“I’m sorry I hit you in the face. It was an accident, really. I was telling this story to my friend about how I-“ he begins, and Minseok notices that he’s quite actually cute, but his nose still hurts and he doesn’t have enough patience for this, so he raises his hand up in a gesture to make the man stop.
“It’s okay, I get it. Luhan, right?” he plucks out the name from one of his memories during some day in class that their professor actually did a roll call, and Luhan nods enthusiastically. “Right. And I’m Minseok. Okay, so uh… Don’t worry about it. We were both not being careful. It’s not entirely your fault alone.”
“Okay… but can I tell you my story?” Luhan tilts his head to the side, as if he’s some child from one of the kids show Minseok used to watch. Curious, maybe. Thinking of the next ways to plot world domination, most likely. Going through plans to ruin Minseok’s life, quite possibly.
Minseok squints, looking dubious. “What story?”
“The story that I was telling my friend, of course!” and even before Minseok could refuse, Luhan’s already launching on about how he was in this record store the other day to look for a copy of some album his professor told them to get hold of for a project in music class after having eaten lunch from a nearby restaurant, and he really wasn’t feeling that well and-
And honestly, why is Minseok even listening to his endless tirade of nonsensical storytelling, when he could be out there, back in the field, playing football? Except that he knows it deep inside himself that he likes this, likes Luhan’s babbles, likes the endless one-sided chatter that’s lulling him to a state of peacefulness. It’s amusing, really. A little adorable, even. But Minseok wouldn’t admit of his fondness.
At least, not yet.
And it’s as if the planets have aligned perfectly and everything has fallen in their right places, because even though he’s just been hit in the face, Minseok feels content.
“I’m glad I found you.” Luhan suddenly says, following the short pause after he has finished telling his story. And it the words barely register in his mind before he lets them out, and he is surprised by the boldness of his choice of words.
“I’m glad you found me, too. Even if you did break my nose.” Minseok smiles, and it’s not one of those full smiles that show all of his teeth and pink gums, but Luhan knows that it would be enough.
Minseok knows he’s going to get scolded by their coach for not attending today’s practice at all, but Luhan’s smile is warm and comforting, and maybe that’s all he really needs.
29
They’re not the same, but they’re not exactly opposites either. Rather, Minseok fills in for the gaps that Luhan forgets, and Luhan eases in to cover up the spaces in-between that Minseok leaves. Clearly, they’re perfect for each other, and nothing could ever break them apart.
Except that of course, no matter how perfect a love story could be, there’s always something dragging them both, making them fall out, and fall apart.
Mostly, it’s just that tiny little speck of a word that separates them from being perfect together-almost.
But they can fix it, right?
Right?
Nobody would know, but the look they give each other says that they probably can.
“You know what, Luhan? I think we deserve a second chance.” Minseok says over a cup of coffee. They’re there again, in the same place where they used to hang out back in college. Except things have changed, but not really.
Not entirely.
“Are you saying that you can teach me how to love again?” There’s an amused smile on Luhan’s lips, but he doesn’t sound like he’s teasing. Hopeful, maybe. A little wistful, even.
“I don’t know, but I can try. We can try.” And Minseok hopes again, after quite a long time.
“Are you sure about that?”
“No,” Minseok looks down at their hands lying on top of the coffee table, only a few centimeters apart. He could reach out and put a comforting hand on top of Luhan’s, but the gap would never be close enough. “But we can learn together.”
“Together,” Luhan says, testing out the word. It curls out of his tongue as if it’s foreign-as if it’s the first time that he has spoken such a word. And truthfully, Minseok hasn’t heard that word in a long time, even from himself.
“Yes. Together.”
Luhan smiles, warm and inviting. “It doesn’t seem bad to learn again, if it’s with you.”
pairing: Luhan/Xiumin
word count: 11150w
rating: nc-17
summary: They fall in love, and fall apart, and try to go back where they were before the fallout.
warning: mediocre attempt at a porn scene
a/n: i forgot to add this in my previous note, but do try listening to this song, which help me set the mood for this fic uwu
<<| pt. 1
22
Minseok knows that the first time they met was one of the very generic stories of typical college guys knowing each other from this one class they have together for one semester, sharing passing glances and quiet nods in acknowledgement, and then hitting it off with one event that made them grow closer. That part has never been fun to talk about at all, but it’s a given that he’s quite fond of retelling how they actually got to talk to each other outside the bounds of schoolwork and the occasional greetings out of respect, even if it was kind of embarrassing.
Luhan would still always profusely apologize whenever this story is retold, but Minseok only laughs, thinking it’s adorable how Luhan still looks as sheepish as he did that day when they first actually talked to each other.
He doesn’t tell anyone about how they got together though. He still thinks that it’s something he wants to hold on to-to keep to himself. He wants to have something that only he and Luhan knows, but that would only probably happen if Luhan shuts his mouth for once about how adorable of a boyfriend Minseok is, never failing to make him flush to the roots of his hair.
It actually starts out like any other day-there’s no rain to share an umbrella for (and probably kiss underneath it) or snow where they could have snowball fights and lie on the cold ground to make snow angels together, or cherry blossoms falling so they could walk hand-in-hand by the park, admiring the scenery. It wasn’t even night time, and the atmosphere wasn’t highly romantic. Truth be told, it wasn’t even a romantic setting at all. There was only just the scorching heat of the sun on a hot day a few weeks before the beginning of summer break, the high temperature leaving beads of sweat that are quick to form on Minseok’s forehead and neck that he stopped bothering to wipe them off anymore. He’s heading to the library, alone, backpack slung over both of his shoulders, when he gets that feeling of someone watching him.
On other occasions, he would have freaked out, running straight to a crowded place to lose that person in a maze of mobs, but doesn’t need to take a glance to know who this person is. He stops walking, thankful for the fact that there wasn’t anyone within the vicinity that was within earshot, because he would’ve looked like an idiot if his hunches were wrong. “Come on Luhan, I know you’re hiding there.” He says in a loud voice, his words almost reverberating back at him in an echo from the silence shrouding the entire place.
“No I’m not!” Luhan denies quickly, voice rising in defiance, and he almost visibly slaps his own forehead for having such a slip-up.
“Really Luhan, really?” Minseok says, clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but there isn’t any disapproval in his expression at all. In fact, he’s smiling. But Luhan doesn’t see this, so Minseok schools his expression into a serious one when Luhan finally decides to give up the charades with an exasperated sigh and a dispirited, “Fine,” stepping out of an old tree whose large trunk has kept him hidden from view up until a while ago.
“It’s scary how you know that I’m following you. It’s like you’ve got this radar attached to your head, looking out for me.” Luhan mumbles, head bent low in shame, but Minseok doesn’t quite hear it.
“And?” Minseok asks, eyebrows raised.
Luhan tries to not look too disappointed; not to look too guilty. “And what?”
Minseok taps a well-polished shoe on the dry ground, and his shoes start getting dusty too. “Care to explain yourself?”
“Why would I need to explain myself? You’re not going to answer my question, anyway.”
Minseok sighs, because why can’t just Luhan listen to him for once? “I already told you I-“
“Just tell me Minseok-is it a yes or a no? It’s as simple as that.” Luhan cuts him off, impatient, and Minseok hasn’t seen him looking this uneasy before. He bites his bottom lip and the action draws Luhan’s attention away from his eyes and into his mouth.
“I like you, but you know I can’t. I need to focus on my studies for now. I really need to graduate on time.”
“Then it’s a yes!” Luhan shouts with a cheer.
“Luhan, did you not hear what I just said?” Minseok asks in disbelief.
“Yeah, I did. I have perfect hearing, and I just heard you say you liked me too!” Luhan says with a shit-eating grin, and Minseok regrets that he’s ever said that at all.
“Luhan, can you not behave like this right now.” Minseok drags a hand across his face with a groan at the impossibility of Luhan’s case. “I’m being serious here.”
“Well I’m being serious too,” Luhan grabs his hand for emphasis. “I like you, you like me, let’s put two and two together and not make this complicated, shall we?”
“If you insist. He says with a small smile. “But let me warn you, I almost always stay in the library whenever I get a vacant time.”
“Library dates. Wonderful.” Well a lot of even worse things could have been in the middle of them all, but Luhan’s okay with that. “And it’s almost summer! You’re not only going to study all summer, aren’t you?” he asks Minseok, sounding doubtful, because it’s just like Minseok to study even during the summer, but not so much that he’s letting himself delve deep into his books and notes that he’ll forget to go out with his friends whenever they invite him over to play video games or to eat out. Minseok only gives him a laugh as an answer.
“Okay then, it’s set.” Luhan claps his hands together once, as if they’ve been having a meeting for a project they’re doing for one of their classes and he’s just finished assigning committee members. “It’s not like we’re getting married already, geez. I’m willing to take things painfully slow for you, Minseok.” He says with a wink.
“That was both cheesy and perverted in all the worst ways possible.” Minseok comments, but he’s laughing, and the smile he has on is one of the most carefree ones that Luhan has ever seen on him.
He decides he loves that smile of Minseok’s the most.
28
When they meet again, things are different. But not quite so.
Minseok is in the school supplies section of the mall, looking for a new notebook to write his annotations in, having had filled his old one from each end. He’s still quite choosy in picking his materials, a habit that hasn’t died down even when he’s nearing thirty. He isn’t sure if it’s a good quality of his or not, most especially when he suddenly bumps into someone he hasn’t seen for almost two years. In his search for a notebook, he finds something else instead.
Or in this case, someone. Someone who he hasn’t quite talked to in a long time.
Luhan looks far better now than when they were still together. He’s gained quite a bit of weight, but it isn’t that bad type of weight gain, just enough to fill his body in that he looks more around his age now instead of the pre-pubescent teenager that everyone else thinks he still is at first glance. The circles in his eyes disappeared.
He’s happier, maybe. Minseok doesn’t know how to put it any other way.
Minseok gapes, because he hadn’t known that Luhan would still be in this part of town. Especially when the last time they saw each other, he seemed greatly intent in forgetting anything that had to with their relationship.
And Luhan didn’t know why he’s still stayed, when he could so much as easily go back to Beijing and live there. It wouldn’t have been hard-his family was there, who would always support him in whatever endeavors he had, now that they’ve realized that even though he might get hurt with the decisions he makes, he doesn’t regret any of them; not even Minseok. His friends, he knows, would back him up if he does end up in a sticky situation.
He knows that his home is right there, in Beijing, but he just might have made a home as well here, in Seoul, with Kim Minseok. And even if they’re separated, there was still this driving force that kept him rooted there, telling him no, it’s still not time to leave, just wait a little longer. And maybe this was that moment, the right time for them to decide what to do from then on.
“Hi,” Minseok says, his voice almost coming to a stutter. It’s hesitant, awkward, even, but it’s a first. There is hesitance in Luhan’s eyes, Minseok is sure of it, but he finally breaks the silence that followed. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you that time, when you called.”
He knows he doesn’t need to explain further, because despite the fact that it’s been a year since that has happened, he knows that Minseok would know.
And of course, Minseok would remember. How would he forget, when he still remembers the cold feeling of rejection, like cold water being splashed into his face just as he has woken up to reality? How could he forget everything that had to do anything with Luhan, when he still remembers the lingering feeling of Luhan’s warm lips against his during the first time they kissed? “It’s okay, I don’t blame you for reacting that way.”
“At least I got to hear your voice,” was what he actually meant to say.
Luhan looks away, looks at everything but Minseok. He knows they did this both to each other, but as usual, it’s him who’s affected the most. “Are you free? I still owe you a conversation, after all.” He says, picking an imaginary lint from the hem of his shirt.
Minseok reaches out, about to touch him lightly in the shoulder - shove him playfully, maybe - but he doesn’t. He lowers his hand back to his sides before Luhan could even notice the slight movement. But he’s a fool to think that the other man didn’t notice at all, and it sends a sharp pang into his heart. “I owe you a date, right?”
In every possible way, Minseok remembered that they were perfect.
In every possible way, Luhan remembered that they could have been what Romeo and Juliet weren’t. That they didn’t need to die together to prove their love for one another, but rather spend what little parts of forever they had, for as long as they lived.
But of course, it doesn’t exactly go the way things are planned.
Minseok pushes the opened lid of the can of beer into his mouth, and the cold liquid that rushes into his throat makes him almost shiver, adding up to the coldness of the air. It’s autumn, and clearly, he should’ve worn something thicker. But how could he have known that he was going to stay out at night with his ex-lover instead of going straight to his own apartment, anyway?
Luhan tips his own head back to drink, letting the taste of the fluid settle in his tongue first before swallowing it. The Han River isn’t exactly the setting that he’d hoped for, the place sometimes crowded with lovers who are actually still together (which he and Minseok clearly aren't anymore). It reminds him of their past and all the bittersweet memories that run along those lines, but he thinks it’s okay enough. In their spot by the riverbank, where you couldn’t see most of the people if you don’t turn your head around, it’s peaceful.
He doesn’t know if it’s courage that pushed him to say something or if the alcohol was finally running through its effects, but he’s the first to speak. He always was.
"When I walked out of our apartment, I couldn’t help but think that this is it, it’s over. It’s all over, and I didn’t even do anything about it. I thought about how we promised each other that we’d always be together, but look at where it got us. We made promises that we thought would always last forever, but lost them in a blink of an eye.” Luhan confesses. “The days passed, and I thought I could just forget everything, but I only wanted you.” He peeks at Minseok through his bangs (his hair has gotten really long, he thinks distractedly. He should probably cut it soon) “I could only want you."
“Does that mean,” Minseok almost chokes, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even stop them. “That you still love me?”
“You want the truth, Minseok?” Luhan exhales loudly. “Because the truth is, in that whole year, I spent every time missing you. But the thing is, until now, I still don't think it was a waste of time." And Luhan’s finally, finally looking at him again. Looking him in the eye, with that expression that he’s grown to familiarize with. It’s the same expression he wore back when he told Minseok “I love you”, not because he wanted to hear it being said back, but just for the sake of saying it.
Minseok opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again. Opens, and closes. His lips tremble. He stops with a sigh. Luhan just gives him a crooked smile, raising his own can of beer as if to encourage Minseok.
And Minseok tries to get some of that courage himself by downing all of the contents of his beer can in one go. What’s keeping him from saying anything, anyway?
Fear, maybe. Being ignored, most likely. Rejection, probably. Trying and failing again, to put it quite accurately.
To hell with it, Minseok thinks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Because after all these years, after all those relationships that didn’t work out before he met Luhan, he has realized that the pain of not knowing hurts far more than the pain of rejection.
"Can I be honest with you too, Luhan?” he asks. But even when Luhan doesn’t respond, distractedly staring at something in his face, eyes glazing over as if he’s stuck a few galaxies away, Minseok still continues. “I still think of you sometimes, and I try to tell myself that it doesn't hurt anymore, but who am I kidding?"
Luhan purses his lips, still not taking his eyes off of Minseok, as if the moment he looks away, Minseok would vanish into thin air, never to return again. "You know what, I dreamt last night that you came back, and that you said that you were sorry, and that I hugged you, and that everything was okay," he pauses, sighing as if in defeat. "That we were okay. Even when I woke up, I kept convincing myself that it was real."
Minseok couldn’t blame Luhan. He had dreams like that, too. But the thing is, in his dreams, he never left Luhan in the first place. In his dreams, they were still the perfect couple. But his dreams will only forever remain as dreams if he never does anything about it. “But we can make it real.”
Luhan gives out a hollow laugh, as if the suggestion wasn’t that bad, but still not enough. “Can we, really?”
And Minseok gets bolder in his actions, finally reaching out to Luhan to touch his shoulder, if only lightly. But Luhan doesn’t flinch away, doesn’t seem to register the action as going far from an imaginary line that Minseok has set between them, not wanting to displease Luhan any further. He doesn’t know that Luhan craved his touch- had been controlling himself to not jump on Minseok the first time they saw each other again, even.
“You probably think that things didn’t work out because we really aren’t for each other, and like other couples, we grow apart and grow tired of each other.” He tries explaining. “But I didn’t grow tired of you. I never stopped loving you at all. It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. I was happy with you, but my mind was a mess.”
And Luhan’s lips quirk if only the slightest bit to form a smile.
“To be honest, I didn’t know either.”
Minseok knows he shouldn’t hope, but it kind of feels like Luhan is giving him a second chance.
“It’s just...” Minseok huffs, frustrated. He isn’t really good with talking about feelings, choosing to listen to other people and show his own affections through actions. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know no matter how many times I get to tell you I’m sorry, I can never take it back, and it’ll never quite be the same, but I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret every moment that I’ve let you down.”
“I know,” Luhan says, giving him a genuine smile this time-a smile that he has always loved. “I’ve forgiven you already. A long time ago, even before you said sorry. Even before I completely walked out of that apartment. Even when I didn’t answer your call.”
There’s silence after that, but it’s not awkward. It’s befitting, somehow. But it would only last a few moments before Luhan gets sick of the peace and starts asking Minseok questions about how his life had been. And Minseok would ask him back, not to be polite, but because he’s genuinely curious.
This is how they find themselves entangled in each other’s lives once more.
And then Luhan feels tingles in his nerves again, prompting him to ask what Minseok thinks. So he does just that.
“Do you think we could have gotten back together again if only we tried?”
Minseok hums a short, quiet tune that Luhan remembers waking up to that he’s kind of automatically associated it with bright mornings and home. “Maybe. Maybe not. Really, who knows? But it’s not something we should be dwelling in anymore, because it’s all in the past. You’re happy now, I guess, and I’m-“he pauses. How could he perfectly describe what kind of life he’s leading right now in just one word? Miserable? A wreck?
There a lot more options coming from an array of words associated with great deals of sadness, but he realizes that he’s not really sad. Lonely, maybe. In love with Luhan, still quite so. But definitely not regretful of having had known Luhan. “Content.” He says, with a smile. Because as sappy as it may sound, in all honesty, he’s happy seeing Luhan happy. “We shouldn’t let the past settle back in our lives and hinder us from taking a step forward-from stopping us from seeing what the future might exactly bring.”
Luhan smirks. How could Minseok even think that he’s happy, when this is the first time they’ve spoken to each other in over a year?
But he isn’t exactly sad, either. And he couldn’t say that he regrets anything at all. When Minseok left, he tried leaving his comfort zone, too. He tried out different jobs part-time, met new people who he mostly became fast friends with. He went out exploring things that he hasn’t tried before (so long as it was legal, because he didn’t want to disturb one of his friends in the middle of the night to get him bailed out of jail when they might as well have went to a noraebang instead), never would’ve dared try for the sake of Minseok’s sanity. But in that time, he was free.
“Spoken like a true literature graduate. Seriously Minseok, you’re still a nerd.” Luhan playfully punches him in the arm, and they laugh. They laugh at how ironic it is that they were once friends, and past lovers, and now friends again from an unspoken agreement, somehow. They laugh at how stupid they had been for letting each other go and not holding on tighter.
They laugh, because it would be no use to cry for what could have been.
They were perfect for each other, but they just couldn’t be together that way anymore. At least, not right now. So instead, they settle for what they have left and try to mend the gaps that the past has left behind.
21
To be fair, Minseok really didn’t know it was coming until it hit him. Quite literally, actually.
He was half-sprinting, half-jogging to get to the soccer field, where all the other members of the football team were either already going through warm-ups or about to begin with the drills. Their coach is probably checking his wristwatch now, scanning the team members for his face, because he knows that Minseok was never late, never went missing, never had to take a pass from practice. But this day is different, because he just had to misplace his cleats, and he’s trying to run discreetly, because running in the hallways wasn’t permitted.
He barely registers the presence of two other people in front of him, and he’s swerving to the left to make a turn to exit the doors of the campus when it happens.
The blow was made before Minseok could even notice the hand in front of his face and react, and the force hits him greatly that he almost reels back, stumbling, but not completely toppling over yet. Fortunately, Minseok is able to regain his balance and he blinks, stars dotting his vision. The floor seems to be moving, and clearly, that’s not a telltale sign of anything good happening at all.
And then all of a sudden a hand is on his back, worried shouts from a different language he didn't understand coming from the person, as if he was telling someone to scram and go get paramedics. Or at least, that was what Minseok hoped.
"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" he finally says in fluent Korean that Minseok briefly wonders whether he really has spoken in a different language earlier. He looks up, hands still cupped over half of his face, still unable to completely process if this is really happening or not. It probably is though, judging from the stinging pain blooming in his nose.
And when they meet eye-to-eye, Minseok takes note of his features, realizing that there he is, that guy from his psychology class, worry wrinkling his features. And the guy who boisterously laughed during that one lesson on dreams seemed so far away now. Even so, he still has that fragile, innocent look about him, but his gaze is strong, holding Minseok in place.
The world stops spinning and Minseok is able to clearly focus his eyes on the person in front of him, and it’s as if Luhan is the only other person there. Call it cheesy, but he isn’t tweaking the story to add a romantic effect when he says that during that moment, it’s as if everything falls into a monochromatic shade, and Luhan is the only person in Technicolor, clear and bright, and everything is bland and lifeless compared to the person right in front of him now. He knows his place, and he makes a promise to shut up whenever his friends are watching romantic flicks, because it feels like he’s experiencing one for himself right now.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Minseok almost rolls his eyes, but his head hurts, and it wouldn’t be one of the good things to attribute to making a great first impression. It was then that he affirmed that not everyone could have it all; a good example of which being that Luhan was, for lack of any better words, fairly stupid. “I just got hit in the face, of course it hurts,” he almost points out, but he doesn't say the obvious out loud and instead opts to say, "I think you broke my nose." which was, fairly enough, a summarized version of the whole truth.
Thankfully, Luhan was smart enough to not poke around for more details, volunteering to accompany Minseok straight to the infirmary, where he said he had his friend call the attention of the school nurse to get some supplies ready.
Are you awake?” was the first thing that Minseok hears when he wakes up. He was told by the infirmary’s nurse to take a rest and he complied, thinking that the pain would somehow ease when he gets some rest, but it isn’t entirely true.
He wonders for a moment if the person asking him has peas instead of a brain or whether the said person just likes pointing out the obvious, but he doesn’t want to be disrespectful, given that this person just went out of his way to accompany him to the infirmary (even if it was his fault in the first place).
The guy scuffles closer to the bed where Minseok is lying down, helping him out as he props himself up into a sitting position. In the middle of the treatment, he remembers falling asleep; the stinging pain in his nose having seemed to have reached his head, too. He blames himself for not observing well before running around in his hurry, but mostly he blames this weird guy who’s now looking at him... well, weirdly.
“I’m sorry I hit you in the face. It was an accident, really. I was telling this story to my friend about how I-“ he begins, and Minseok notices that he’s quite actually cute, but his nose still hurts and he doesn’t have enough patience for this, so he raises his hand up in a gesture to make the man stop.
“It’s okay, I get it. Luhan, right?” he plucks out the name from one of his memories during some day in class that their professor actually did a roll call, and Luhan nods enthusiastically. “Right. And I’m Minseok. Okay, so uh… Don’t worry about it. We were both not being careful. It’s not entirely your fault alone.”
“Okay… but can I tell you my story?” Luhan tilts his head to the side, as if he’s some child from one of the kids show Minseok used to watch. Curious, maybe. Thinking of the next ways to plot world domination, most likely. Going through plans to ruin Minseok’s life, quite possibly.
Minseok squints, looking dubious. “What story?”
“The story that I was telling my friend, of course!” and even before Minseok could refuse, Luhan’s already launching on about how he was in this record store the other day to look for a copy of some album his professor told them to get hold of for a project in music class after having eaten lunch from a nearby restaurant, and he really wasn’t feeling that well and-
And honestly, why is Minseok even listening to his endless tirade of nonsensical storytelling, when he could be out there, back in the field, playing football? Except that he knows it deep inside himself that he likes this, likes Luhan’s babbles, likes the endless one-sided chatter that’s lulling him to a state of peacefulness. It’s amusing, really. A little adorable, even. But Minseok wouldn’t admit of his fondness.
At least, not yet.
And it’s as if the planets have aligned perfectly and everything has fallen in their right places, because even though he’s just been hit in the face, Minseok feels content.
“I’m glad I found you.” Luhan suddenly says, following the short pause after he has finished telling his story. And it the words barely register in his mind before he lets them out, and he is surprised by the boldness of his choice of words.
“I’m glad you found me, too. Even if you did break my nose.” Minseok smiles, and it’s not one of those full smiles that show all of his teeth and pink gums, but Luhan knows that it would be enough.
Minseok knows he’s going to get scolded by their coach for not attending today’s practice at all, but Luhan’s smile is warm and comforting, and maybe that’s all he really needs.
29
They’re not the same, but they’re not exactly opposites either. Rather, Minseok fills in for the gaps that Luhan forgets, and Luhan eases in to cover up the spaces in-between that Minseok leaves. Clearly, they’re perfect for each other, and nothing could ever break them apart.
Except that of course, no matter how perfect a love story could be, there’s always something dragging them both, making them fall out, and fall apart.
Mostly, it’s just that tiny little speck of a word that separates them from being perfect together-almost.
But they can fix it, right?
Right?
Nobody would know, but the look they give each other says that they probably can.
“You know what, Luhan? I think we deserve a second chance.” Minseok says over a cup of coffee. They’re there again, in the same place where they used to hang out back in college. Except things have changed, but not really.
Not entirely.
“Are you saying that you can teach me how to love again?” There’s an amused smile on Luhan’s lips, but he doesn’t sound like he’s teasing. Hopeful, maybe. A little wistful, even.
“I don’t know, but I can try. We can try.” And Minseok hopes again, after quite a long time.
“Are you sure about that?”
“No,” Minseok looks down at their hands lying on top of the coffee table, only a few centimeters apart. He could reach out and put a comforting hand on top of Luhan’s, but the gap would never be close enough. “But we can learn together.”
“Together,” Luhan says, testing out the word. It curls out of his tongue as if it’s foreign-as if it’s the first time that he has spoken such a word. And truthfully, Minseok hasn’t heard that word in a long time, even from himself.
“Yes. Together.”
Luhan smiles, warm and inviting. “It doesn’t seem bad to learn again, if it’s with you.”