Lemonade Luck
Title: Lemonade Luck
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sehun/Tao
Warnings: canon allusions to members leaving Exo, etc. etc.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, written just for fun.
Summary: In the three years since debut, Sehun has come to depend on Tao in ways he'd never imagined he would--some of which he only figures out once Tao is no longer at his side.
A/N: Written for the Exoficpalette challenge 2015! My trope was "long distance", my setting was "real world". This story is an excerpt from the second half of a massive canon TaoHun fic I'm working on, hopefully to be published in full in the next few months. A big thank you to springmaid for organizing this event, and for being so flexible and encouraging :)) I've had lots of fun writing ^^
“What do you think I should do, hyung?” Sehun is staring at the same TV screen as Yixing beside him, but the images flashing by make about as much sense as a montage of unfamiliar commercials with the volume muted would.
“Do about what? Hong Kong fashion week?” Yixing scratches under his jaw and elbows Sehun in the shoulder. “You know you’re better off asking Jongdae’s advice on your wardrobe choices.”
“No, that’s not what I--” The scene on screen changes from an elderly woman crying and eating steak in a restaurant to show a beautiful young man in ragged jeans leading a small girl by the hand to a neighborhood park. “About him. Tao. He doesn’t answer my messages anymore.”
“Wait, he doesn’t?” Yixing’s knee jars against Sehun’s thigh as he scrambles to sit up under the weight of the cushions piled in his lap. “He quit talking to you completely? Hunnie, when?”
Sehun can’t bear to watch Yixing’s melancholy blink that no doubt matches the quiet ache in his voice. He keeps his gaze on the sunny playground and the shadows of the actors on screen. The father (uncle, brother, cousin) is pushing the daughter (niece, sister, neighbor) on the swing. “Not like that, hyung. I mean he does answer, but only sometimes. Never more than a line of friendly words.”
“Hmm…” Yixing’s fingers reach in a lazy arc to capture a handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table. It’s already gone cold in the pink plastic mixing bowl they borrowed from Kyungsoo’s kitchen some months ago and never returned. “Friendly isn’t bad.”
“Friendly isn’t…” It’s not the same! Sehun wants to yell, but he’d end up pissing off Minseok who’s trying to sleep in the adjoining room, and he doesn’t have the energy to raise his voice anyway. The force of his grief hangs in the back of his throat like a wadded up ball of wet laundry, wringing tighter and tighter as if to wrench out the last drops of misery before it’s hung up to dry.
Yixing doesn’t say anything but his hand wanders up the length of Sehun’s arm from his elbow, stilling at the junction of his shoulder for a squeeze. Even if Yixing doesn’t always understand him he at least wants to understand, and usually that’s enough to provide Sehun with a measure of comfort.
“Here, lean forward.” Yixing nudges Sehun’s hips to the edge of the sofa cushion and presses him forward with a palm between his shoulder blades as if he’s opening a built in ironing board from the wall. “You know, I’m pretty sure Taozi still talks to you more than the rest of us put together, even though he has to make the effort to communicate with you in Korean.”
“Mm,” Sehun grunts as Yixing’s knuckles dig into his shoulders, reciprocating the pressure of Sehun’s chin digging into his knee. If Yixing’s trying to placate him with that comment, it won’t work. Sehun’s already thought of that too, and it wasn’t much of a comfort. His craving for affection from the source he’s come to rely on has nothing to do with competition--at least not competition with the other members. It bothers him almost as much that Tao’s communication with the other hyungs has dropped to a bare minimum, especially with the way Joonmyun always worries about the other magnae.
“So what should I do, hyung,” Sehun says, mumbling into the rough grain of his skinny jeans stretched across his own kneecaps as his forehead slides against the well worn denim of Yixing’s faded jeans. He’s not even sure if he means it as a question anymore, or if he’s just saying it aloud because it echoes in his thoughts all the time and he’s given up hope of exorcising the mantra from his mind.
“Just keep letting him know you’re there for him, that you have time for him. Sooner or later he’ll have time for you again, if he still feels close to you.”
“But how do I know if…”
“If it’s worth it? To keep putting yourself out there for little to no return?” Yixing smoothes his thumbs up the ridge of Sehun’s spine and gives a gentle rub to the base of his neck. His hand burns with unexpected warmth in the air conditioned room and Sehun has the sudden urge to let his eyes well up with tears.
“Mm, yeah that.” Sehun nods, the side of his hair ruffling against Yixing’s solid thigh.
“That I can’t tell you, Hun. You have to decide that for yourself.” Yixing chuckles when Sehun’s huff of discontent clouds the threadbare denim stretched across his knees with warmth. “But I will say that Taozi is one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. As you well know.”
“As I well know? What’s that supposed to mean?” Sehun’s neck pops when he jerks his head up to stare at Yixing’s face in the half dark. “He’s broken as many promises as he’s kept. And he didn’t stay.”
“He’s still trying to stay though, even now.”
“Now that it’s too late and his effort doesn’t mean anything?” Sehun can taste the bitter scent of the burnt popcorn on the back of his tongue as he inhales. His words drop like unpopped kernels scattering on the glass top of the coffee table, even as a sudden cold front of guilt softens the resolve in his chest because he knows he’s not being fair. That’s the whole problem here, no one has been fair for a very long time, but they all have to pretend that they’re okay with it and that that’s just the way the world works.
“He’s trying with his heart and with his sincerity, that must count for something,” Yixing whispers against Sehun’s nape. He drops a light kiss at the border of his hairline before he sits up again with a groan, his lips lingering with all of the affection and none of the passion that Tao’s ghost laces through Sehun’s dreams at night. “But in the end, it’s all up to you. You know yourself best, and what is right for you.”
“It’s all up to me,” Sehun repeats into the seam of Yixing’s pant leg. “That’s the best advice I’ve ever heard, hyung.”
“Hmm? What’s that?” Yixing’s fingers dust over the slope of his lower back as he changes channels to avoid the onslaught of advertising that cuts in at the end of the drama episode. “Talk louder, Sehunnie. Can’t hear you.”
“Nothing.” Sehun shakes his head as he pulls himself to his feet. He’d better drop the subject before he says something sarcastic they’ll both regret. “I’ll be right back. You want something from the kitchen?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” Yixing pulls the popcorn bowl into his lap as Sehun wanders into the kitchen to find a drink and stare at his phone messages for a few minutes in the desolate peace of an empty room.
++++++
“How do you figure out the right answer to something?” Sehun puts his chopsticks down but doesn’t look anyone in the eye. The room is quiet for a moment besides the sounds of chewing and the hum of the AC unit and Sehun is almost sure no one is going to respond. He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s looking for anyway, or if he’d rather Yixing turn it into a rhetorical debate and distract him from his distress for an hour.
“Mathematics uses a very nice set of formulas, which always work until you find a case in which they’re inapplicable.” Minseok tilts his head as he reaches for another chunk of cucumber kimchi with his chopsticks. “But you’re not talking about math homework, are you?”
“No,” Sehun says, and thinks about picking his chopsticks up again. They seem so far away from his reach though, propped on a dirty paper napkin next to his plate that’s an island swimming in an ocean of yellow lamp light engulfing the space between his chair and the table.
“In music, there is no right answer.”
Sehun doesn’t have to look up to know that’s Yixing talking. He’d recognize him even without the audible giveaway of his voice. “But in music there are answers that are easier to appreciate than others.”
"Hm yeah, but quality can't be determined by a popularity contest. Or at least not in my eyes." Yixing's deep breath as he lifts a bite of shredded chicken breast to his lips echoes with a musical note in the back of his throat.
Sehun follows suit, hoping a deep breath might settle the spikes of tension poking up through the layers of his gut like out of control weeds. It doesn't do much other than inspire of a wave of nausea when he inhales the oily scent of the scraps of chicken skin Kyungsoo is methodically removing from the oven roasted breasts with tongs and a pair of long handled chopsticks.
"What are we doing tonight?" Baekhyun stabs a strip of meat with a fork before Kyungsoo can get to it in his fat removal operation. He wrinkles his nose at Kyungsoo's pointed glare, but ignores him otherwise.
"I have to make notes on the schedules and then run lines with Soo," Joonmyun says. It’s the first thing he's said all evening besides muttering to himself as he goes over emails with their managers on his tablet. He even brought his ipad to the dinner table to continue checking emails, risking Kyungsoo's wrath and violating his own ban on electronic devices during family meals.
"So I can call dibs on the TV then?" Baekhyun swallows with a noisy gasp and steals a gulp from Sehun's glass of milk.
Sehun nudges the glass towards him with a grunt, more worried that he'll spill the contents than he is annoyed by the invasion of his personal drinking property. Sehun quit drinking milk a few months ago to discourage his body from growing taller, only giving in and drinking the daily glass Kyungsoo continues to pour for him if Joonmyun insists.
"Mm, just don't keep Minseok hyung awake past his bedtime," Joonmyun says, frowning to himself when a drop of chicken grease splatters on the screen of his tablet.
"Where is Dae?" Minseok props his chopsticks at a neat angle on the edge of his empty plate. Sehun is surprised he's finished already, but Baekhyun's nearly through his first serving of chicken and most of his meager allotment of rice, and Minseok has reverted to his old habit of skimping at the dinner table and surviving on frequent snacks.
The shift in his eating patterns hasn't affected his weight since he supplements his diet with heavy duty protein shakes before and after workouts these days, but the sight of his empty plate at meals still gives Sehun the same uncertainties about his own portion sizes the way they used to make Lu Han angry.
"No really, has anyone seen Jongdae? He went shopping this morning and hasn't texted since." Minseok slides his plate onto the kitchen counter but Kyungsoo waves him away from the sink before he can grab the sponge.
"That's not that strange. Dae has new friends these days and never eats at home." Baekhyun's voice isn't saturated in the same bitterness it reeks of when he's having a very vocal argument over the phone with Taeyeon, but the way the tendons in his neck bite into the soft skin of his neck with every clench of his jaw as he chews lets Sehun know he's bristling about something.
"Does he eat at all," Minseok asks in a voice soft enough that Joonmyun won't pick up on it.
As if you're one to talk, Sehun doesn't say, because it would just upset everyone worse and there's enough tension seasoning their food as it is. They don't have time for family dinners that often anymore, and the last thing Sehun wants to do is disappoint Joonmyun by upsetting Minseok into a premature departure.
"You know, I don't think the measure of a good song can be determined by popularity alone, but from a philosophical standpoint it's more or less meaningless if it doesn't touch anyone, yourself included." Yixing narrows his eyes at Sehun. Sehun doesn't have the energy to turn his head and look away, even though it unnerves him when Yixing stares like that, especially when he seems to be looking through him at something invisible to the rest of the people in the room.
"Well of course. If it's art it has to tie together a message with some kind of emotion." Minseok shrugs as he settles his hips to lean against the counter, and Sehun wonders when his hyung got so comfortable talking about art in specific delineations, as if he has extracted the definition of art during his years of industry experience and constructed it into some sort of generalized formula.
"Sex is hot, love is real, bam," Baekhyun says, smacking his fist into his palm and almost skewering Sehun's cheek with his wayward chopsticks. "The most fundamental human belief and the realest emotion, all wrapped up pretty so everyone can get it by the end of the first chorus."
"If it were that easy we wouldn't have a steady job." Kyungsoo snorts as he snatches the last trimmings of fat from the serving plate and disposes of them in the sink.
"It takes some kind of instinct to know what will reach a broad audience, and a lot of luck, I think," Yixing says as he worries at a bit of boiled cabbage. "Same as with finding the way forward through any kind of problem, Hun. It might help if you think about that for awhile, instead of trying to come up with a definite answer right away."
"Yeah, only if your instincts are the survival kind and not the stupid kind." Sehun forces a thick strip of chicken through his teeth and chews quickly, trying to swallow without tasting too much of the life he's consuming in a ritualized death. If he finishes early he can go upstairs and log onto Skype before before Baekhyun and Jongdae crash the wi-fi server with their gaming. He probably has at least another hour before Jongdae comes back from wherever he's spending all of his free time these days. “May I be excused.”
Minseok and Kyungsoo both grunt in assent as Sehun pushes his chair back from the crowded table, empty rice bowl in hand.
“But you hardly ate anything!” Joonmyun gestures with a spoon at his own untouched rice bowl, but Sehun doesn’t bother to reason with him. He just turns on his heel and flees for the stairs. Chatting with Tao is becoming a new kind of refuge for him, but not something he can share in detail with the hyungs without it turning into a logical debate that’s supposed to defeat him into feeling happy again.
Problem is, even though Sehun knows he’s being stupid moping like this and that his emotions can’t change anything, they’re really hard to talk himself out of feeling. Maybe that’s the reason a lot of people seem to divide their emotions from reason as if they were solitary concepts instead of all mixed up in each other in his brain. Sehun doesn’t know how accurate it is to think that they interact, but recently it’s been as hard to compartmentalize his rational debates about what he thinks of Tao leaving from his feelings about the situation as it is to differentiate his personal dreams from his career aspirations.
Maybe Tao will know what to say to make him feel better…if Tao comes online tonight...
++++++
“Hello?” Tao’s voice sounds far away, but not small and diminished by the fog of depression. He actually looks better tonight than he has in a long while. His cheeks are full and pink, and his dark circles don’t show up nearly as dark in the webcam as they did the last time he called Sehun.
“Long time no see,” Sehun says as if he’d just walked into their shared dance studio after weeks of long distance promotions. Tao laughs, either because it’s true or because he’s just happy. Sehun’s missed his just-because laugh.
“What’s been keeping you so busy? I thought you were supposed to be on bedrest.”
“I am,” Tao groans with a sincerity Sehun knows he can’t be faking. “They won’t let me out of a chair to do anything, Hun. I think even my toes are atrophying, but I’m never at home because I get dragged along on all my mother’s social visits.”
“Sounds better than sitting at home alone,” Sehun says in a careful voice, not wanting to invalidate Tao’s frustration with his inactive state but still trying to stay positive for both of their sakes.
“Sitting anywhere sucks!” Tao’s brow darkens with creases of shadow as he leans in closer to the webcam. “They won’t leave me alone or give me any space because they don’t trust me to stay off my feet.”
“Good, because I don’t trust you to rest either,” Sehun says. Now is as good a time as any to reinforce what he had told Tao the last time he saw him, bundled into the wheelchair his father was pushing, tear streaked face hidden in the dingy nylon of his lucky duffel bag.
“Leave off,” Tao spits out, rattling his fingers against the case of his netbook.
“Hey, you brought it up,” Sehun says with a shrug though he’s not planning to turn this into a heated ideological debate. Not today. They’ve been over it too many times already, and Sehun doesn’t want to risk a bad argument when Tao’s not nearby to placate with hugs and whispered forgiveness once their tempers cool into apathy.
“So...ahem--tell me about the friends you’ve been visiting, I guess? You been catching up with old classmates?” Sehun doesn’t really want to hear a detailed report of all the guys (and possibly girls?) from Tao’s past that he likely has good reasons to jealous of, but it’s the most neutral topic for conversation he can think of. Bringing up their work schedules or gatherings with favorite sunbaes tends to send Tao into a lapse of blank faced silence. Sehun knows by now what topics to avoid unless Tao explicitly asks for updates.
“They’re not really my friends.” Tao shrugs, resettling himself in his chair. “My mom doesn’t trust my high school buddies to enforce my rest, either, so they can only come over on supervised visits to the house.”
“Ah…” Sehun nods, unsure if he’s stumbled into another touchy subject while trying to avoid contentious spots. Maybe today’s just a bad day in general for Tao, but Sehun’s too selfish to suggest calling again later because who knows when that will be. It’s been almost three weeks of missed calls and miscommunications since their last Skype date.
“You watched any good movies lately?” Tao’s lips form a tiny smile, the tentative one he wears when he’s meeting a new sunbae for the first time. Maybe Tao feels awkward right now too, Sehun thinks, and as unsettling as that thought is it actually makes him feel a bit better, less alone in this rocky navigation of their “new normal”.
“Uh, yeah. Well not new exactly, but I’ve watched a few Chinese martial arts films with Chanyeol hyung recently.” They’re not Sehun’s favorite, but he’s got to fill up his evenings with something. Tao’s absence has left a bigger gap in Sehun’s daily routine than he had worried he would, and that’s a scarier realization than he’d like to admit. It feels like everything’s getting out of control these days, his head and his heart and the distance between them.
“Ooh, you guys are practicing Mandarin together?”
“Nah, actually they were dubbed.” Sehun doesn’t have to look Tao in the eye to know he will look disappointed at that admission. “We spent so many hours in Chinese tutoring learning to pronounce all the lyrics to the new album, you know. I think everyone’s a bit burnt out on studying right now.” Especially Sehun is. He kind of hates everything about China right now. Everything except Tao, of course. Tao is okay.
“I see. I hope they were enjoyable for you guys then.”
Sehun feels silly for not wanting to look at the screen once he realizes Tao is deliberately avoiding eye contact with him too. “Hey, of course they were fun, but Taozi, I really miss watching dramas with you, you know?” Sehun makes his best effort to smile at the webcam even though the emotions in his throat are mixed up enough to tangle his grin in his teeth like a clump of washed up seaweed on the shore.
“Really? You miss watching TV with me?” Tao raises his gaze in a slow arc. Sehun can feel the beams of his vision cut into his chest, neck, forehead, like lasers. “I thought you hated sappy romance stuff.” The sniff he gives sounds much more like the congestion of a stuffy nose from a cold than it does like an indignant huff.
“Well yeah, but--hey now! I don’t hate romance, I just like it balanced with other elements in a story. Like take Ironman for instance, that’s a sweet action film with a nice romantic substory. Romance doesn’t need to be the main attraction for it to be a compelling theme.”
“Quit using such big words when I’m tired, Hun.” Tao rubs at his temples like he’s got a migraine coming on, and Sehun bites his lip hard at the sudden reprimand.
“Sorry. I was just trying to explain my opinion, not like, I don’t know, Taozi… But I wasn’t trying to upset you, okay?”
“Upset me?” Tao laughs, high and hysterical in the back of his throat as his earring bobs. “Hun I wish you would! Everyone’s too nice to me right now, they lie to me about anything they think might stress me out, and--and--!”
“And?”
“Nothing. Sorry, but I don’t want to talk about it.” Tao frowns directly into the camera. Sehun can’t help but feeling like a cast iron lid’s been slammed down over the pot containing Tao’s feelings, and the glare in his eye suggests that Tao blames him for the unfavorable shift in the atmosphere.
“Okay then, we don’t have to. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Soccer? The neighborhood pets? Why you don’t seem to have anything to say to me anymore?
“Nah, not really. Unless you wanted to tell me about stuff with you?” Tao raises his eyebrows with a hopeful glance, but Sehun’s not sure if he’s hoping to prolong the call or to end it shortly.
“Hm, nothing new here. Just...busy, I guess. I better let you rest then, huh? And Baek hyung is about to sabotage the wi-fi with his gaming…”
“Ah I see. Well, take care, Hun. Talk to you soon?”
“Talk to you soon.” Sehun hates that he can’t interpret the relief in Tao’s face when they hang up, either, but he’s hoping it’s because of their promise to call again soon and not because he was counting down the seconds until he could cut the call.
Sehun wants to give Tao the benefit of the doubt. He can only guess how hard it must get being stuck in a wheelchair while the rest of the group is touring to promote the new album, but part of him wishes he had a reason to spend some quiet days at home. Sehun wishes he had the time and the space to iron out the wrinkles obscuring the figures of the map that's written on his heart, but he’s not the one who's been blessed with a break in disguise.
Sehun sighs and closes the lid of his laptop. He makes sure the machine slips into sleep mode before he slides it under his bed and heads down the hall to join the rest of the group in the living room. He’ll volunteer to help Kyungsoo with his lines so Joonmyun can get some rest, as much as he’d like to just crawl under the covers himself right now and let the darkness overtake him.
Sehun’s not ready to take the easy way out just yet, though. He needs to keep fighting--for Tao of course, but mostly for himself. Letting his guard down and just giving up is the easiest way to run into an injury or illness of his own, and he can’t let that happen again, not when the wounds of losing two of their hyungs are still fresh on his heart. He doesn’t even want to think about what it would mean to lose Tao, too….
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sehun/Tao
Warnings: canon allusions to members leaving Exo, etc. etc.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, written just for fun.
Summary: In the three years since debut, Sehun has come to depend on Tao in ways he'd never imagined he would--some of which he only figures out once Tao is no longer at his side.
A/N: Written for the Exoficpalette challenge 2015! My trope was "long distance", my setting was "real world". This story is an excerpt from the second half of a massive canon TaoHun fic I'm working on, hopefully to be published in full in the next few months. A big thank you to springmaid for organizing this event, and for being so flexible and encouraging :)) I've had lots of fun writing ^^
“What do you think I should do, hyung?” Sehun is staring at the same TV screen as Yixing beside him, but the images flashing by make about as much sense as a montage of unfamiliar commercials with the volume muted would.
“Do about what? Hong Kong fashion week?” Yixing scratches under his jaw and elbows Sehun in the shoulder. “You know you’re better off asking Jongdae’s advice on your wardrobe choices.”
“No, that’s not what I--” The scene on screen changes from an elderly woman crying and eating steak in a restaurant to show a beautiful young man in ragged jeans leading a small girl by the hand to a neighborhood park. “About him. Tao. He doesn’t answer my messages anymore.”
“Wait, he doesn’t?” Yixing’s knee jars against Sehun’s thigh as he scrambles to sit up under the weight of the cushions piled in his lap. “He quit talking to you completely? Hunnie, when?”
Sehun can’t bear to watch Yixing’s melancholy blink that no doubt matches the quiet ache in his voice. He keeps his gaze on the sunny playground and the shadows of the actors on screen. The father (uncle, brother, cousin) is pushing the daughter (niece, sister, neighbor) on the swing. “Not like that, hyung. I mean he does answer, but only sometimes. Never more than a line of friendly words.”
“Hmm…” Yixing’s fingers reach in a lazy arc to capture a handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table. It’s already gone cold in the pink plastic mixing bowl they borrowed from Kyungsoo’s kitchen some months ago and never returned. “Friendly isn’t bad.”
“Friendly isn’t…” It’s not the same! Sehun wants to yell, but he’d end up pissing off Minseok who’s trying to sleep in the adjoining room, and he doesn’t have the energy to raise his voice anyway. The force of his grief hangs in the back of his throat like a wadded up ball of wet laundry, wringing tighter and tighter as if to wrench out the last drops of misery before it’s hung up to dry.
Yixing doesn’t say anything but his hand wanders up the length of Sehun’s arm from his elbow, stilling at the junction of his shoulder for a squeeze. Even if Yixing doesn’t always understand him he at least wants to understand, and usually that’s enough to provide Sehun with a measure of comfort.
“Here, lean forward.” Yixing nudges Sehun’s hips to the edge of the sofa cushion and presses him forward with a palm between his shoulder blades as if he’s opening a built in ironing board from the wall. “You know, I’m pretty sure Taozi still talks to you more than the rest of us put together, even though he has to make the effort to communicate with you in Korean.”
“Mm,” Sehun grunts as Yixing’s knuckles dig into his shoulders, reciprocating the pressure of Sehun’s chin digging into his knee. If Yixing’s trying to placate him with that comment, it won’t work. Sehun’s already thought of that too, and it wasn’t much of a comfort. His craving for affection from the source he’s come to rely on has nothing to do with competition--at least not competition with the other members. It bothers him almost as much that Tao’s communication with the other hyungs has dropped to a bare minimum, especially with the way Joonmyun always worries about the other magnae.
“So what should I do, hyung,” Sehun says, mumbling into the rough grain of his skinny jeans stretched across his own kneecaps as his forehead slides against the well worn denim of Yixing’s faded jeans. He’s not even sure if he means it as a question anymore, or if he’s just saying it aloud because it echoes in his thoughts all the time and he’s given up hope of exorcising the mantra from his mind.
“Just keep letting him know you’re there for him, that you have time for him. Sooner or later he’ll have time for you again, if he still feels close to you.”
“But how do I know if…”
“If it’s worth it? To keep putting yourself out there for little to no return?” Yixing smoothes his thumbs up the ridge of Sehun’s spine and gives a gentle rub to the base of his neck. His hand burns with unexpected warmth in the air conditioned room and Sehun has the sudden urge to let his eyes well up with tears.
“Mm, yeah that.” Sehun nods, the side of his hair ruffling against Yixing’s solid thigh.
“That I can’t tell you, Hun. You have to decide that for yourself.” Yixing chuckles when Sehun’s huff of discontent clouds the threadbare denim stretched across his knees with warmth. “But I will say that Taozi is one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. As you well know.”
“As I well know? What’s that supposed to mean?” Sehun’s neck pops when he jerks his head up to stare at Yixing’s face in the half dark. “He’s broken as many promises as he’s kept. And he didn’t stay.”
“He’s still trying to stay though, even now.”
“Now that it’s too late and his effort doesn’t mean anything?” Sehun can taste the bitter scent of the burnt popcorn on the back of his tongue as he inhales. His words drop like unpopped kernels scattering on the glass top of the coffee table, even as a sudden cold front of guilt softens the resolve in his chest because he knows he’s not being fair. That’s the whole problem here, no one has been fair for a very long time, but they all have to pretend that they’re okay with it and that that’s just the way the world works.
“He’s trying with his heart and with his sincerity, that must count for something,” Yixing whispers against Sehun’s nape. He drops a light kiss at the border of his hairline before he sits up again with a groan, his lips lingering with all of the affection and none of the passion that Tao’s ghost laces through Sehun’s dreams at night. “But in the end, it’s all up to you. You know yourself best, and what is right for you.”
“It’s all up to me,” Sehun repeats into the seam of Yixing’s pant leg. “That’s the best advice I’ve ever heard, hyung.”
“Hmm? What’s that?” Yixing’s fingers dust over the slope of his lower back as he changes channels to avoid the onslaught of advertising that cuts in at the end of the drama episode. “Talk louder, Sehunnie. Can’t hear you.”
“Nothing.” Sehun shakes his head as he pulls himself to his feet. He’d better drop the subject before he says something sarcastic they’ll both regret. “I’ll be right back. You want something from the kitchen?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” Yixing pulls the popcorn bowl into his lap as Sehun wanders into the kitchen to find a drink and stare at his phone messages for a few minutes in the desolate peace of an empty room.
++++++
“How do you figure out the right answer to something?” Sehun puts his chopsticks down but doesn’t look anyone in the eye. The room is quiet for a moment besides the sounds of chewing and the hum of the AC unit and Sehun is almost sure no one is going to respond. He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s looking for anyway, or if he’d rather Yixing turn it into a rhetorical debate and distract him from his distress for an hour.
“Mathematics uses a very nice set of formulas, which always work until you find a case in which they’re inapplicable.” Minseok tilts his head as he reaches for another chunk of cucumber kimchi with his chopsticks. “But you’re not talking about math homework, are you?”
“No,” Sehun says, and thinks about picking his chopsticks up again. They seem so far away from his reach though, propped on a dirty paper napkin next to his plate that’s an island swimming in an ocean of yellow lamp light engulfing the space between his chair and the table.
“In music, there is no right answer.”
Sehun doesn’t have to look up to know that’s Yixing talking. He’d recognize him even without the audible giveaway of his voice. “But in music there are answers that are easier to appreciate than others.”
"Hm yeah, but quality can't be determined by a popularity contest. Or at least not in my eyes." Yixing's deep breath as he lifts a bite of shredded chicken breast to his lips echoes with a musical note in the back of his throat.
Sehun follows suit, hoping a deep breath might settle the spikes of tension poking up through the layers of his gut like out of control weeds. It doesn't do much other than inspire of a wave of nausea when he inhales the oily scent of the scraps of chicken skin Kyungsoo is methodically removing from the oven roasted breasts with tongs and a pair of long handled chopsticks.
"What are we doing tonight?" Baekhyun stabs a strip of meat with a fork before Kyungsoo can get to it in his fat removal operation. He wrinkles his nose at Kyungsoo's pointed glare, but ignores him otherwise.
"I have to make notes on the schedules and then run lines with Soo," Joonmyun says. It’s the first thing he's said all evening besides muttering to himself as he goes over emails with their managers on his tablet. He even brought his ipad to the dinner table to continue checking emails, risking Kyungsoo's wrath and violating his own ban on electronic devices during family meals.
"So I can call dibs on the TV then?" Baekhyun swallows with a noisy gasp and steals a gulp from Sehun's glass of milk.
Sehun nudges the glass towards him with a grunt, more worried that he'll spill the contents than he is annoyed by the invasion of his personal drinking property. Sehun quit drinking milk a few months ago to discourage his body from growing taller, only giving in and drinking the daily glass Kyungsoo continues to pour for him if Joonmyun insists.
"Mm, just don't keep Minseok hyung awake past his bedtime," Joonmyun says, frowning to himself when a drop of chicken grease splatters on the screen of his tablet.
"Where is Dae?" Minseok props his chopsticks at a neat angle on the edge of his empty plate. Sehun is surprised he's finished already, but Baekhyun's nearly through his first serving of chicken and most of his meager allotment of rice, and Minseok has reverted to his old habit of skimping at the dinner table and surviving on frequent snacks.
The shift in his eating patterns hasn't affected his weight since he supplements his diet with heavy duty protein shakes before and after workouts these days, but the sight of his empty plate at meals still gives Sehun the same uncertainties about his own portion sizes the way they used to make Lu Han angry.
"No really, has anyone seen Jongdae? He went shopping this morning and hasn't texted since." Minseok slides his plate onto the kitchen counter but Kyungsoo waves him away from the sink before he can grab the sponge.
"That's not that strange. Dae has new friends these days and never eats at home." Baekhyun's voice isn't saturated in the same bitterness it reeks of when he's having a very vocal argument over the phone with Taeyeon, but the way the tendons in his neck bite into the soft skin of his neck with every clench of his jaw as he chews lets Sehun know he's bristling about something.
"Does he eat at all," Minseok asks in a voice soft enough that Joonmyun won't pick up on it.
As if you're one to talk, Sehun doesn't say, because it would just upset everyone worse and there's enough tension seasoning their food as it is. They don't have time for family dinners that often anymore, and the last thing Sehun wants to do is disappoint Joonmyun by upsetting Minseok into a premature departure.
"You know, I don't think the measure of a good song can be determined by popularity alone, but from a philosophical standpoint it's more or less meaningless if it doesn't touch anyone, yourself included." Yixing narrows his eyes at Sehun. Sehun doesn't have the energy to turn his head and look away, even though it unnerves him when Yixing stares like that, especially when he seems to be looking through him at something invisible to the rest of the people in the room.
"Well of course. If it's art it has to tie together a message with some kind of emotion." Minseok shrugs as he settles his hips to lean against the counter, and Sehun wonders when his hyung got so comfortable talking about art in specific delineations, as if he has extracted the definition of art during his years of industry experience and constructed it into some sort of generalized formula.
"Sex is hot, love is real, bam," Baekhyun says, smacking his fist into his palm and almost skewering Sehun's cheek with his wayward chopsticks. "The most fundamental human belief and the realest emotion, all wrapped up pretty so everyone can get it by the end of the first chorus."
"If it were that easy we wouldn't have a steady job." Kyungsoo snorts as he snatches the last trimmings of fat from the serving plate and disposes of them in the sink.
"It takes some kind of instinct to know what will reach a broad audience, and a lot of luck, I think," Yixing says as he worries at a bit of boiled cabbage. "Same as with finding the way forward through any kind of problem, Hun. It might help if you think about that for awhile, instead of trying to come up with a definite answer right away."
"Yeah, only if your instincts are the survival kind and not the stupid kind." Sehun forces a thick strip of chicken through his teeth and chews quickly, trying to swallow without tasting too much of the life he's consuming in a ritualized death. If he finishes early he can go upstairs and log onto Skype before before Baekhyun and Jongdae crash the wi-fi server with their gaming. He probably has at least another hour before Jongdae comes back from wherever he's spending all of his free time these days. “May I be excused.”
Minseok and Kyungsoo both grunt in assent as Sehun pushes his chair back from the crowded table, empty rice bowl in hand.
“But you hardly ate anything!” Joonmyun gestures with a spoon at his own untouched rice bowl, but Sehun doesn’t bother to reason with him. He just turns on his heel and flees for the stairs. Chatting with Tao is becoming a new kind of refuge for him, but not something he can share in detail with the hyungs without it turning into a logical debate that’s supposed to defeat him into feeling happy again.
Problem is, even though Sehun knows he’s being stupid moping like this and that his emotions can’t change anything, they’re really hard to talk himself out of feeling. Maybe that’s the reason a lot of people seem to divide their emotions from reason as if they were solitary concepts instead of all mixed up in each other in his brain. Sehun doesn’t know how accurate it is to think that they interact, but recently it’s been as hard to compartmentalize his rational debates about what he thinks of Tao leaving from his feelings about the situation as it is to differentiate his personal dreams from his career aspirations.
Maybe Tao will know what to say to make him feel better…if Tao comes online tonight...
++++++
“Hello?” Tao’s voice sounds far away, but not small and diminished by the fog of depression. He actually looks better tonight than he has in a long while. His cheeks are full and pink, and his dark circles don’t show up nearly as dark in the webcam as they did the last time he called Sehun.
“Long time no see,” Sehun says as if he’d just walked into their shared dance studio after weeks of long distance promotions. Tao laughs, either because it’s true or because he’s just happy. Sehun’s missed his just-because laugh.
“What’s been keeping you so busy? I thought you were supposed to be on bedrest.”
“I am,” Tao groans with a sincerity Sehun knows he can’t be faking. “They won’t let me out of a chair to do anything, Hun. I think even my toes are atrophying, but I’m never at home because I get dragged along on all my mother’s social visits.”
“Sounds better than sitting at home alone,” Sehun says in a careful voice, not wanting to invalidate Tao’s frustration with his inactive state but still trying to stay positive for both of their sakes.
“Sitting anywhere sucks!” Tao’s brow darkens with creases of shadow as he leans in closer to the webcam. “They won’t leave me alone or give me any space because they don’t trust me to stay off my feet.”
“Good, because I don’t trust you to rest either,” Sehun says. Now is as good a time as any to reinforce what he had told Tao the last time he saw him, bundled into the wheelchair his father was pushing, tear streaked face hidden in the dingy nylon of his lucky duffel bag.
“Leave off,” Tao spits out, rattling his fingers against the case of his netbook.
“Hey, you brought it up,” Sehun says with a shrug though he’s not planning to turn this into a heated ideological debate. Not today. They’ve been over it too many times already, and Sehun doesn’t want to risk a bad argument when Tao’s not nearby to placate with hugs and whispered forgiveness once their tempers cool into apathy.
“So...ahem--tell me about the friends you’ve been visiting, I guess? You been catching up with old classmates?” Sehun doesn’t really want to hear a detailed report of all the guys (and possibly girls?) from Tao’s past that he likely has good reasons to jealous of, but it’s the most neutral topic for conversation he can think of. Bringing up their work schedules or gatherings with favorite sunbaes tends to send Tao into a lapse of blank faced silence. Sehun knows by now what topics to avoid unless Tao explicitly asks for updates.
“They’re not really my friends.” Tao shrugs, resettling himself in his chair. “My mom doesn’t trust my high school buddies to enforce my rest, either, so they can only come over on supervised visits to the house.”
“Ah…” Sehun nods, unsure if he’s stumbled into another touchy subject while trying to avoid contentious spots. Maybe today’s just a bad day in general for Tao, but Sehun’s too selfish to suggest calling again later because who knows when that will be. It’s been almost three weeks of missed calls and miscommunications since their last Skype date.
“You watched any good movies lately?” Tao’s lips form a tiny smile, the tentative one he wears when he’s meeting a new sunbae for the first time. Maybe Tao feels awkward right now too, Sehun thinks, and as unsettling as that thought is it actually makes him feel a bit better, less alone in this rocky navigation of their “new normal”.
“Uh, yeah. Well not new exactly, but I’ve watched a few Chinese martial arts films with Chanyeol hyung recently.” They’re not Sehun’s favorite, but he’s got to fill up his evenings with something. Tao’s absence has left a bigger gap in Sehun’s daily routine than he had worried he would, and that’s a scarier realization than he’d like to admit. It feels like everything’s getting out of control these days, his head and his heart and the distance between them.
“Ooh, you guys are practicing Mandarin together?”
“Nah, actually they were dubbed.” Sehun doesn’t have to look Tao in the eye to know he will look disappointed at that admission. “We spent so many hours in Chinese tutoring learning to pronounce all the lyrics to the new album, you know. I think everyone’s a bit burnt out on studying right now.” Especially Sehun is. He kind of hates everything about China right now. Everything except Tao, of course. Tao is okay.
“I see. I hope they were enjoyable for you guys then.”
Sehun feels silly for not wanting to look at the screen once he realizes Tao is deliberately avoiding eye contact with him too. “Hey, of course they were fun, but Taozi, I really miss watching dramas with you, you know?” Sehun makes his best effort to smile at the webcam even though the emotions in his throat are mixed up enough to tangle his grin in his teeth like a clump of washed up seaweed on the shore.
“Really? You miss watching TV with me?” Tao raises his gaze in a slow arc. Sehun can feel the beams of his vision cut into his chest, neck, forehead, like lasers. “I thought you hated sappy romance stuff.” The sniff he gives sounds much more like the congestion of a stuffy nose from a cold than it does like an indignant huff.
“Well yeah, but--hey now! I don’t hate romance, I just like it balanced with other elements in a story. Like take Ironman for instance, that’s a sweet action film with a nice romantic substory. Romance doesn’t need to be the main attraction for it to be a compelling theme.”
“Quit using such big words when I’m tired, Hun.” Tao rubs at his temples like he’s got a migraine coming on, and Sehun bites his lip hard at the sudden reprimand.
“Sorry. I was just trying to explain my opinion, not like, I don’t know, Taozi… But I wasn’t trying to upset you, okay?”
“Upset me?” Tao laughs, high and hysterical in the back of his throat as his earring bobs. “Hun I wish you would! Everyone’s too nice to me right now, they lie to me about anything they think might stress me out, and--and--!”
“And?”
“Nothing. Sorry, but I don’t want to talk about it.” Tao frowns directly into the camera. Sehun can’t help but feeling like a cast iron lid’s been slammed down over the pot containing Tao’s feelings, and the glare in his eye suggests that Tao blames him for the unfavorable shift in the atmosphere.
“Okay then, we don’t have to. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Soccer? The neighborhood pets? Why you don’t seem to have anything to say to me anymore?
“Nah, not really. Unless you wanted to tell me about stuff with you?” Tao raises his eyebrows with a hopeful glance, but Sehun’s not sure if he’s hoping to prolong the call or to end it shortly.
“Hm, nothing new here. Just...busy, I guess. I better let you rest then, huh? And Baek hyung is about to sabotage the wi-fi with his gaming…”
“Ah I see. Well, take care, Hun. Talk to you soon?”
“Talk to you soon.” Sehun hates that he can’t interpret the relief in Tao’s face when they hang up, either, but he’s hoping it’s because of their promise to call again soon and not because he was counting down the seconds until he could cut the call.
Sehun wants to give Tao the benefit of the doubt. He can only guess how hard it must get being stuck in a wheelchair while the rest of the group is touring to promote the new album, but part of him wishes he had a reason to spend some quiet days at home. Sehun wishes he had the time and the space to iron out the wrinkles obscuring the figures of the map that's written on his heart, but he’s not the one who's been blessed with a break in disguise.
Sehun sighs and closes the lid of his laptop. He makes sure the machine slips into sleep mode before he slides it under his bed and heads down the hall to join the rest of the group in the living room. He’ll volunteer to help Kyungsoo with his lines so Joonmyun can get some rest, as much as he’d like to just crawl under the covers himself right now and let the darkness overtake him.
Sehun’s not ready to take the easy way out just yet, though. He needs to keep fighting--for Tao of course, but mostly for himself. Letting his guard down and just giving up is the easiest way to run into an injury or illness of his own, and he can’t let that happen again, not when the wounds of losing two of their hyungs are still fresh on his heart. He doesn’t even want to think about what it would mean to lose Tao, too….