Infinite Gray (1/2)
Title: Infinite Gray
Pairing: Xiumin/Luhan (past!Luhan/Kris, slight!Luhan/Lay)
Rating: R
Warnings: highlight for warnings/spoilers: character death, mentions of past child abuse, mentions of past self harm, (mentions of) suicide, sex
Word Count: ~18 000
Summary: Minseok just wanted to know why the boy in Jongdae's photos always looked so sad.
Author's notes: Super huge thanks to my two lovely betas: S and K. You two are amazing and I couldn't have completely finished this without you! This was written for doeiros for the first round of soccerncoffee!
“You don't make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.” -Ansel Adams
ending.
Minseok doesn’t measure the days in time. Instead, he measures them by Luhan. He measures them by the number of bright flecks in his dull eyes, the number of creases running up his cheeks when he laughs, and the number of hidden marks all over his skin that time never could heal completely. Minseok doesn’t measure the days in time, because for him, time stopped when Luhan walked in, and forgot to start again when he walked out. The days however, keep going. Luhan is the dullest day of summer, but he’s also the brightest day in winter. Luhan is, not was. Luhan will never be a was because Minseok only remembers how many days there are in a month based on Luhan’s eyelashes fluttering softly when Minseok leans in too close.
Luhan was a ticking time bomb, and it’s a good thing he stopped ticking or the sound might distract Minseok from how many lines leave trails along Luhan’s palms. Minseok can’t go back in time. He can’t go back to those five short months, can’t ask time why it moved so fast or why certain people got so little while others got so much. So Minseok is glad he has the ability to capture time. He can’t stop it, he can’t start it again, he can’t even slow it down or speed it up; but he can take pieces of it. He makes sure to take more pieces of time than time takes of him. It isn’t fair, but nothing is.
He captures the green on the trees before the fall does, he captures the rabbits before the coyote does, and he captures Luhan before Luhan captures himself. He saves Luhan in his mind, against his skin, and on his walls. He captures Luhan too much and saves him everywhere, so that time can never turn and make Luhan a was.
five months.
Minseok is surprised to see Jongdae in the studio this early when he stumbles in with his portfolio overflowing and coffee burning through the cheap cup to his fingers. Jongdae sits back in his chair when he hears Minseok walk in.
“Morning,” he says groggily.
“Morning to you too,” Minseok replies, rushing to the counter against the back wall to put his steaming coffee down. “Ah, it’s hot,” he says idly to himself, shaking his hand once he gets the coffee down. Then, he carefully puts his portfolio down to prevent the pictures from falling everywhere. “You’re in early,” he says, removing the lid from his coffee and blowing at it in an attempt to cool it down.
“Never left,” Jongdae replies. He rubs his eyes and turns to look back at Minseok. “We had a great shoot last night. I’ve been going through all the shots I got. Some of these can definitely be used in the exhibition.”
“Let me see,” Minseok pushes himself off the counter and moves to stand behind Jongdae. He rests his hand on the back on the black chair and leans into the screen. Jongdae starts to flip through the hundreds of photos he got the night before.
“There’s over two hundred in here from last night alone,” he says. Minseok eyes the lighting, shadows, angles and model set up. Everything is toeing on perfection and he’s constantly reminded why Jongdae was chosen for the exhibition committee; he just has an eye for photography.
“Hold on,” Minseok says, leaning right against the chair and stopping Jongdae’s scrolling. “Go back.” Jongdae does.
“This one?” He asks. “I was experimenting a bit with space in this one.” There’s only one model in the picture and Minseok stares intently at the face. “I’m not sure how much I--”
“It’s beautiful,” Minseok cuts him off. “Tab this one. We need to go back to it, it might be useable. Perfect use of space.”
“Do you think the lighting is a little off on Luhan’s face though? I got a few others maybe we could--”
“Luhan?”
“Minseok, please stop cutting me off. I know it’s early but--”
“This model, who is he?” Jongdae groans loudly and throws himself on the desk, narrowly avoiding the laptop. Minseok looks incredulously at Jongdae and waits for his answer.
“That’s Luhan,” he grumbles. “Exchange student in the choir club with me.” Minseok looks at the picture again and stares hard at Luhan’s face. There is something off, but it isn’t the way Jongdae caught the lighting. Minseok cocks his head, then looks down at Jongdae who he’s pretty sure has fallen asleep on the desk. His eyes trail to the screen again and he finds himself mumbling out the question stuck in his mind. “Why does he look so sad?”
Jongdae lifts his head and looks at the screen. “I don’t know,” he says.
“When does your choir meet?”
“Minseok please don’t take my models. Don’t you have your own?” Jongdae replies sleepily.
“I’m not taking your models.”
“So then you’re suddenly interested in joining choir club.” Minseok stays silent for a long while and Jongdae sighs. “You’re a dick and I’m too tired for this.”
Minseok flashes him a bright smile and pokes at Jongdae’s shoulder. The morning light filters into the studio, reflecting off the white floor and walls. “Close the blinds,” Jongdae says. “It’s so bright.”
~✾~
Luhan wakes up to darkness, again. He feels the ground moving beneath him and it takes him a few moments to realize that it isn’t the ground that is shaking, but him. His mother’s light voice trickles in through the darkness. “Luhan?” She whispers. “Luhan, where are you?”
His hands fly up to cover his ears and his knees pull into his chest. “Stop,” he whispers. “Stop,” and his voice breaks. Tears stream down his face but he doesn’t particularly notice. “Stop,” he chokes out again, and it’s almost whimper, a silent plea to the empty world around him.
“Luhan.” A bottle smashes and someone is yelling words Luhan can’t understand, they’re too fuzzy. His breathing picks up and someone is calling his name again, but it isn’t his mother this time. “Luhan!” There’s a hand grabbing his arm and he pulls himself up so fast he’s afraid he’ll puke. He throws his body backwards and his head hits the wall.
“Luhan? Are you okay?” Yixing’s face registers in his vision. It’s painted with worry and his hand is stuck in mid pull back position from when he reached out to Luhan.
“Yes,” Luhan says, breaths still heavy. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His two-sizes-too-big long sleeve shirt sticks to his chest, slicked in cold sweat and rising and falling too fast as he tries to regulate his breathing again.
“You looked like you were having a nightmare,” his roommate says. “You look awful.”
“I’m fine Yixing, really. Like you said, just a bad dream.” Luhan kicks whatever is left of his covers to the side and crawls off his bed. “I’m going to shower,” he announces and ambles off to the bathroom.
Luhan stands at the sink and turns the tap all the way to cold. He lets it run for a bit before splashing the freezing water onto his face. Yixing’s razor stares at him from the counter, so Luhan picks it up and drops it in the trash. “He doesn’t even need you,” Luhan says, but his mother’s voice echoes in his mind.
There is a knock on the bathroom door and one voice chases out the other. “Luhan? I’m going off to my morning lecture now. You should probably leave for yours soon or you’ll be late again.” Luhan doesn’t reply. “Call or text me if you need anything, okay? I left you some breakfast on the counter.” He stares at the bathroom door listening to the sound of Yixing’s feet on the floor as he moves to the front of the apartment. He hears Yixing grab his windbreaker and when the front door opens and then closes again, Luhan strips out of his clothes. He stares at himself in the mirror briefly before turning to step into the shower. The cold water will clear his head just enough to get him through the day.
He spends ten minutes longer than necessary under the water and steps out into the apartment naked, save for the towel he had dropped on top of his head. His phone vibrates twice from on top of the kitchen table. Yixing must have put it there because he doesn’t remember leaving it there. He approaches it slowly and inhales deeply before checking the name on the screen.
It’s warmer than I thought it would be today! Wear a light sweater! Reads Yixing’s text. So Luhan does just that. He eats the egg and toast that Yixing left him and ten minutes later he walks into his morning lecture half an hour late. He doesn’t really care about Korean lit anyways.
~✾~
“Go away Minseok.” Jongdae starts to walk faster across campus.
“Am I not allowed to walk my best friend across campus to his choir club?” Minseok scurries to catch up to Jongdae.
“No because you have ulterior motives. Never trust a photographer with an exhibition coming up. Especially if that photographer is Kim Minseok.”
“Rude,” Minseok pouts. “But I’m really not trying to steal your models.” Minseok tugs on the adjustable straps of his backpack and matches his pace with Jongdae.
“Really?” But Jongdae doesn't sound convinced.
“Really. I just think that Luhan looks--” he pauses for a moment trying to come up with the right word. “Interesting,” is what he settles with.
“He’s quiet,” Jongdae says. “I don’t really know how interesting he is, but his face photographs well. I was looking for interesting faces, not interesting people.”
“You make us sound terrible.”
“We’re not. We’re just photographers with a big exhibition coming up in a few months and we need good photos. I don’t need anyone’s life story or their daily routines. And I have to get to choir so turn yourself around and go home.”
Minseok sighs. “Fine fine, I’ll see you at the apartment.” He does as he’s told and starts his walk back across campus, enjoying the nice day. He spots a boy out of the corner of his eye, sitting by himself under one of the oldest trees on campus, reading a book. Minseok didn’t entirely lie to Jongdae, he didn’t really want to photograph Luhan, but he also wasn’t one to pass up a perfect shot when he sees it. He flings his bag off one shoulder and undoes the zipper to pull out his camera. He brings it to his eye, adjusts the lens and clicks once, twice, three times. He admires the screen and then adjusts the settings briefly before taking more shots. Then he approaches the subject.
“Excuse me,” he says, and Luhan looks up from his book.
“Do I know you?” He asks, looking up, and Minseok is a little taken aback. He expected something more along the lines of “Yes?” or “Can I help you?”
“Uhh no,” he replies carefully. “But you know my friend, Jongdae.”
“The photographer?” Luhan asks, closing his book. Minseok notes that he doesn’t actually mark the page before closing it.
“Yes, and he’s also in your choir club, which I think you’re running late for by the way.”
“Do you want to photograph me as well?” Luhan ignores Minseok’s comment about him running late.
“No, I don’t actually.”
“Then…?” Luhan tugs at his sleeves and nods at the camera still in Minseok’s hands.
“Oh, uh, I just came to introduce myself. You might see me in the studio a lot since you’re working with Jongdae.”
“‘Kay,” Luhan says, and it isn’t much of a response at all. He puts his book in his bag and stands up. He’s taller than Minseok, and looks down at him slightly. “I’m late,” he says before walking off without another word. Minseok turns to watch him leave, then looks back down at his camera to flip through the photos he had taken of Luhan. He decides the setup is perfect, the angle is good and the lighting looks spot on. They’re really nice shots, he thinks to himself, and he smiles before he deletes all of them except for one. His thumb hovers over the delete button, but he can’t bring himself to push down.
~✾~
Luhan can smell dinner when he walks in the door and he finds Yixing at the table eating his spaghetti with chopsticks. He greets Luhan with a smile and swallows down his food before saying, “How was your day?”
Luhan shrugs. “Ordinary,” he says. “Always the same.”
“I made dinner,” Yixing says brightly, gesturing to Luhan’s dish sitting across from him. But Yixing always speaks brightly and he always makes dinner.
“I’m--” Luhan stops and Yixing waits. “I’m not hungry,” He says, and goes off into his room, closing the door behind him.
Hours later Luhan sneaks out of his room, moving quietly through the apartment. Yixing has moved his bowl from the table and likely put it into the fridge with any other leftovers. Except for the night light in the kitchen, the place is dark. He moves into the kitchen and goes straight to the drawer on the top right next to the sink. He tugs on it only to find that it’s locked. “God dammit,” he whispers, and tears threaten to fall down his cheeks. He shakes the handle harder and he can hear the metal rattling against each other inside the drawer. “God dammit,” he says again.
The kitchen light turns on and Luhan shuts his eyes. He opens them again, adjusting to the sudden flood of light and he sees Yixing standing in the entryway, hair a mess, arms crossed and tank top too loose.
“What are you doing?” He asks. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you food.” Luhan can hear the sleep carrying on his voice, making it rougher than usual. He shakes his head and lets two tears fall. Yixing doesn’t ask, he just looks at him sadly. “Let’s go to bed then,” he says softly. “It’s late.”
Luhan follows Yixing into his room and slips underneath the covers with him. He curls himself into Yixing’s chest and clutches and the front of his shirt. He buries his face into Yixing’s neck, just under his chin, and lets out a silent sob. He’s shaking and his grip on Yixing’s shirt tightens and twists. He shudders when Yixing softly runs his hand over Luhan’s arm. It’s gentle, and eventually lulls Luhan into dreamless sleep and stops him from shaking.
~✾~
Minseok pulls the black blinds over the windows, blocking out the light of the sun still high in the sky at 5pm. Chinese take-out containers sit on the counter, still hot and still full.
“Do you need the studio at all in the next few days?” Jongdae asks, plugging in the lights.
“No, not really. I might come in to do some editing, but not to shoot. The trees on campus look really nice this time of year.” He makes his way to the back counter and pulls a couple plates out of one of the cupboards above him.
“Shouldn’t you be getting started on your shots for the exhibition?” Jongdae flicks on the light and adjusts it slightly before shutting it off again.
“I’m waiting on inspiration to hit,” Minseok says, grabbing a bit of everything and placing it on the one of the plates.
“Better hope it hits soon.”
Minseok smiles. “I think it will. I have a good feeling. You want a bit of everything, right?”
“You know me,” Jongdae says. “And today marks five months until exhibition day by the way, so it better hit soon. I’m not covering for you.”
“When have you ever needed to cover for me Jongdae, come on.” He puts half the noodles on Jongdae’s plate and saves the rest for himself. “I’m usually the one covering for you.”
“Okay, okay let’s not go reminiscing on times better forgotten.” There’s a knock on the door. “Oh, someone’s early.” Minseok puts the rest of the food on Jongdae’s plate while he goes to answer the door. “I’m so glad you could both make it!” He hears Jongdae say and Minseok steps away from the counter to peer around the hallway. Honestly, he wasn’t really expecting Luhan, but he’s a little disappointed to find that he isn’t there.
“Sehun?” Minseok asks.
“Well, this should make introductions easier,” Jongdae says, looking between the two. “How do you two know each other?”
“Creative writing,” Sehun says.
“He’s really good. I edited his work once.”
“Ya, I know,” Jongdae says. “His poem was in the newspaper. The city one, not the school one.”
Minseok looks up at the other boy, tall and slightly intimidating, and he feels tiny next to him. “Sorry, I don’t know you. I’m Kim Minseok, another photographer for the exhibition.” He holds his hand out to the other boy.
“Huang Zitao,” is the reply in a voice higher than he expected.
“Nice to meet you. Jongdae, you should eat you dinner before you get started.”
“Ya I will, we’re waiting on one more anyways.”
Jongdae is almost finished inhaling his food when a small voice interrupts. “Excuse me? Oh, I hope I’m not late.”
“Luhan!” Jongdae shoves the last of his dinner in his mouth when Luhan appears from the hallway. He has his backpack on and his sweater is oversized, making him look smaller than he is. “Hey we missed you at choir last night!”
Minseok shoots a quizzical at Luhan. “Ya sorry,” he says, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater. “I wasn’t feeling well. But I woke up feeling better today so it’s okay.”
“Mhm ya I understand, but I’m glad you’re feeling better today. Listen, I think I want to start with Tao and then I’m gonna go from there. I think I want to do some couple and group shots as well, so just talk amongst yourselves for a bit.” Sehun drops his bag on the table and pulls out his pencil and notebook.
“Are you writing, Sehun?” Minseok asks, and is answered with a ‘what does it look like I’m doing?’ look. “For class?” Sehun shakes his head. “What are you writing?”
“Did I ask you what you’re photographing?” Sehun asks, unamused.
“Well, no.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what I’m writing.”
Luhan brings himself further into the dining area while Zitao and Jongdae get set up on the other side. He smiles softly at Sehun. He takes his bag off and sits it on the counter, standing next to Minseok. “Sorry about yesterday,” he says. “I feel like I may have been rude on our first meeting, I hope you can forgive me.”
“Oh it’s fine, you weren’t feeling well.”
“Can we try it again?” Luhan asks, looking Minseok in the eyes.
“Try what?”
“Hi,” Luhan says, holding out his hand. “My name is Luhan, nice to meet you.”
Minseok takes his hand. “Minseok,” he says. “You model for my friend Jongdae. It’s nice to officially meet you, Luhan.”
Luhan doesn’t say much that evening, but Minseok enjoys his presence. “Do you like modeling?” Minseok asks, trying to make conversation.
Luhan shrugs. “I guess so,” he says. “I like cameras. They freeze time, they catch things we might not catch, and they see things we can’t see. The lens sees everything, you can’t hide. It undresses you from the inside out. There are some things you can only really show people with photos. ” Minseok nods along. He agrees, but he’s never heard it said out loud before. They watch Jongdae photograph Zitao, and then Sehun.
“Minimalism,” Minseok says, and Luhan looks at him. “Jongdae is trying to see how many emotions he can get while using as little props as possible. All he needs are his lights, a white background, and ordinary people.”
“I can’t wait for the exhibition then to see what he does with it.”
When Luhan takes his turn, Minseok pulls out his laptop and realizes that while Jongdae must have over six hundred photos and counting to pick through, he has nothing. He works on his English essay instead.
They do group shots, spread out across the white, and then Luhan is finding his way back to Minseok’s side. “Will you be here tomorrow?” He asks.
“Most likely,” Minseok replies.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Luhan gives him a smile and Minseok smiles back, but the fact that Luhan’s smile is almost forced, doesn’t go unnoticed.
~✾~
“Welcome home,” Yixing greets Luhan with a smile when he walks in the door and toes off his shoes. “How was the shoot?”
“It was good,” Luhan says.
“Great! Are you hungry?”
“No, I ate.”
“Oh good!” But he isn’t entirely convinced.
“Yixing,” Luhan’s look is hard and trained on Yixing’s bright face.
“Yes?”
“You locked it.”
Yixing sighs. “Luhan…”
“Why did you lock the drawer?”
“You know it’s better that way.” Luhan tugs on his sleeves and looks at his feet. He mumbles something that Yixing doesn’t pick up. “I’m sorry Luhan, I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said I think I’ll go to bed now. I’m feeling tired.”
“Did you get all your work done at Jongdae’s studio?” Yixing calls as Luhan heads to his room.
“Who are you? My mother?” Luhan closes the door and moves through the darkness straight to his bed.
“No,” Yixing says from the hallway. “I am definitely not your mother.”
~✾~
Minseok walks into the studio ten minutes after seven and sees Luhan already seated at the table. He sees Luhan before he hears the loud clanking from the other side of the room. He turns his head to find pieces of equipment all over the studio floor and Jongdae’s rear end sticking out of the equipment closest.
“Jongdae, what are you doing?”
“Minseok! Minseok, is that you?” Jongdae backs himself out of the closet. “Oh thank god you’re here,” he says, leaning back on his heels.
“Where are our back up light bulbs?”
“Top shelf, right side, white box,” Minseok says, moving to the table. Jongdae makes a noise of frustration. “And clean that up.”
“Hi,” Luhan says softly, smiling up at Minseok. He doesn’t notice that this one is a little less forced.
“You’re early,” he comments. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes I have, thank you.” Luhan’s voice is as gentle as the look he gives Minseok, and he itches to pull his camera out of his bag, but he reaches for his laptop instead. “What is your concept?” Luhan asks. Minseok places his laptop on the table and sits down across from Luhan, flashing him a look of confusion. “For your part of the exhibition?”
“Oh,” Minseok chuckles to himself. “I don’t know yet,” he says. “I’m waiting on inspiration to hit.”
“Isn’t it in five months?”
“Sure, but I’m not worried. I’m sure inspiration will hit soon.” Luhan flattens his lips and nods his head. “What are you reading?” He asks, nodding at the book in Luhan’s hands. The sleeves of his sweater are too long, and they cover his hands holding the book.
“The Tale of Hong Gildong,” Luhan says. “For my Ancient Korean Literature class.”
“Alright Luhan!” Jongdae calls from the other side of the room. Luhan closes the book, and smiles at Minseok before getting up. He doesn’t mark the page.
~✾~
“Did you eat?” Yixing asks.
“Yup, grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria on campus,” Luhan replies. He walks off to his room and Yixing eyes the way his sweater falls over his body. He sighs and rubs his temple, concluding that it looks looser than it did last month. He’s known Luhan long enough to know when Luhan lies.
~✾~
Don’t walk me to choir tonight. You’re weird and embarrassing (;-_-)ノ
Minseok throws his phone next to him and scoffs. Then he turns his attention back to the camera in his hands, playing with the settings. A breeze rustles the leaves of the tall tree looming above him as he holds it up and takes an experimental picture of the Arts building and the open field filled with students. He checks the LED screen and makes an unsatisfied face at the photo. He plays with the settings again and holds the camera up once more, only to have his lens blocked by a pair of legs.
“You’re in my spot,” says the pair of legs. Luhan looms over him, then crouches down, resting his arms on his knees. He stares at Minseok. Minseok stares back, not sure how to reply and feeling slightly uncomfortable under Luhan’s gaze.
“Uhm,” he starts and raises his camera slightly, showing it to Luhan. “I just--”
“For the exhibition?” Luhan asks.
“Well no, not really.” And then, Luhan pouts at him. Before Minseok can stop himself, he has his camera at his face, catching a photo of Luhan’s.
“Hey! I thought you said you didn’t want to photograph me!” Luhan reaches for his camera, and Minseok pulls it out of his way.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Minseok stutters. “I’ll delete it.”
“No, no, just let me see it.” Luhan leans into Minseok to get a view of the screen. His shoulder presses into Minseok’s chest and his hand rests on the ground between Minseok’s legs, so he turns the camera to Luhan.
“You look cute,” he says.
Luhan turns his head sharply and suddenly his face is way too close. Minseok’s breath catches itself in his throat. “I’m not cute,” Luhan says, and he’s serious, but Minseok still thinks he looks cute. Cute, and way too close.
“You should go to choir,” Minseok says. “You’ll be late.”
“You’re right, but will I see you tomorrow?”
“At the studio? Sure, if you’re stopping by again, I’ll be there.” Luhan nods and stands up.
“Okay,” he says. “Bye.” He grabs the straps of his backpack and nods at Minseok again before turning a leaving.
Cute, and no longer close enough. Minseok lifts his camera again and focuses on the boy walking away from him. He walks toward the sun that has started to set, and Minseok snaps the photo. He takes three more, adjusting his lens as Luhan gets further away. He goes to capture one more, and Luhan turns around. He’s stopped, body half turned and face looking at Minseok. The lens catches the facial expression that Minseok’s bare eyes don’t. Minseok sees a slight smile appearing on a straight face. The camera sees longing, sadness, and bad memories.
Minseok quickly stuffs his camera back in its case, swinging it over his shoulder and grabbing his bag and phone that he had tossed away earlier. He leaves in the opposite direction, and Luhan continues on before watching him walk away.
~✾~
Luhan’s phone buzzes on the dining room table and Yixing realizes it’s ringing for a phone call, not a text message. He runs to the phone and sees a familiar name come in on Luhan’s caller ID. He hits decline, and deletes the call history.
~✾~
Minseok finds Luhan fascinating, in the way that he poses for Jongdae’s camera. It’s slight, and nothing over the top, and Jongdae is amazing in the way he captures it. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t frown either, and yet there is so much to say about the emotion in the photos. Minseok has seen the pictures on the computer, he’s seen the look in Luhan’s eyes, he’s felt it, leaning over Jongdae’s shoulder every night after Luhan leaves on the days they meet in the studio.
Dead. Luhan’s eyes are dead. There is nothing there and he doesn’t notice it until he stares hard at Jongdae’s photos. There’s nothing there, and it hits Minseok directly in the face.
“How many photos do you have?” Minseok asks casually, setting Jongdae’s cup of coffee on the table next to him.
Jongdae leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. “A thousand or so?” he says. “I’ll pick twenty five of the best. I’m not even done yet.”
“And your findings so far?”
Jongdae looks up at him. “Everyone has a past,” he says.
~✾~
The shouting is loud enough to deafen a child, so Luhan covers his ears and rocks himself back and forth. Luhan feels the pain all over again, he should have just pretended to be asleep, why didn’t he just pretend he was asleep? His thigh hit the stair first, then his waist, and finally his head. Luhan doesn’t remember falling, just pain searing through his body as he lies at the bottom of the wooden staircase. A glass bottle falls off the counter and smashes to pieces somewhere in the kitchen and then there’s more shouting.
“Luhan!” His mother’s voice rings in his ear louder than the pounding pain in his head. Something smells funny. Luhan doesn’t like the smell. He tries to open his eyes, but all he can process is darkness.
He’s on his feet, kind of. It’s a little wobbly and Luhan doesn’t think he’s the one holding himself up. The sound of skin hitting skin screams at Luhan but not as loud as Luhan screams at himself.
Luhan thinks of the knives on the kitchen counter, but he also thinks of soft hands, tracing his face and the lines on his palm and the dips in his body when he lies down on his side. The hands, he thinks, are infinitely worse than the knives, because soft hands always cut deeper than sharp knives.
“Luhan?” It’s Yixing’s voice, and suddenly Luhan is falling. He reaches out for support. “Luhan,” Yixing speaks again, a little louder this time. But Yixing never catches him, he can still feel himself falling.
Yixing. Luhan doesn’t hear himself speak. “Luhan.” And finally Yixing’s hand reaches his shoulder and he’s pulled back.
Yixing hovers over Luhan, watching him carefully. “Hey,” he says. “If you don’t get up, you’ll be late again. Are you going to go today?” Luhan sniffs and realizes that his face and his pillow are wet.
“Huh?” Luhan wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Yixing says, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at Luhan. He sniffs again and Yixing reaches down to take Luhan’s face in his hands. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, you’re fine, I’m right here, it’s just me.” He wipes at the tears with his thumb, and Luhan lets him, even though Yixing’s hands have always been rough.
~✾~
Minseok drags himself across campus, wishing he had started on his English essay a little earlier, and maybe spent a little less time in the studio with Jongdae over the past week. He stops in the café on campus. He needs a coffee, he needs it strong, and he needs it now.
“Make it a large, Chanyeol,” he says, walking straight for the counter.
“You got it buddy.” Chanyeol mock salutes him and gets to making Minseok his coffee. He leaves a bill on the counter and tells Chanyeol to keep the change when he hands him his coffee. “Thanks, I’ll use it to buy my girl something nice,” he jokes.
The bell on the door dings when someone else walks in. Minseok turns to leave when he sees that it’s Luhan who had walked in. His sweater is too big again and Minseok wonders why Luhan doesn’t buy clothes that fit him. Luhan sees him, and he smiles. “Good morning!” Chanyeol greets. Luhan nods at him and then looks at Minseok.
“Good morning,” he says.
“That depends on what you consider a good morning,” Minseok laughs, taking a sip of his coffee. It burns his top lip.
Luhan doesn’t laugh. “Are you off to class now?” Minseok nods. “Do you want to meet me back here at about 6:30?” Luhan asks, and Minseok’s heart does a flip.
“Sure,” he says. “I’ll see you then.” When he exits the shop he mentally applauds his voice for staying stable. Then he shakes his head, trying to rid it of thoughts of Luhan.
Hours later, Minseok walks back into the coffee shop. He’s exhausted, but he doesn’t feel it, especially after he sees Luhan sitting by himself at one of the tables. He’s got his chin rested on one hand and he stares out the window as the sun starts to sink into the ground. He doesn’t look up until Minseok pulls out a chair.
“You came,” Luhan says.
“Of course, I said I would.” Luhan hums and smiles to himself. Minseok itches to pull out his camera, but he folds his hands and places them on the table in front of him. He isn’t photographing Luhan, that’s Jongdae’s job. It’s Jongdae’s job to capture all of Luhan’s little emotions. “Did you want something to drink?” He asks. “Or something to eat? Their sandwiches are pretty good here.”
“Oh, I can get it myself, it’s okay,” Luhan says.
“No, tell me what you want, I’ll get it for you. My treat.” Minseok winks at him and Luhan looks a little shocked.
“Ok, um I guess I want the Americano, and for the sandwich… surprise me,” he decides. “I’ll give you some money,” he says, turning to his bag on the empty seat next to him to get his wallet.
“Nope.” Minseok stands up. “My treat, I said.” Luhan gapes at him, like he isn’t sure what to do, but he stops going for his wallet and says nothing, so Minseok goes off to order for the both of them.
“You’re really lucky,” Luhan says, when Minseok comes back with their food and drinks.
“Why is that?”
“You get to be a part of the exhibition. You must be really good if they chose you.”
“Jongdae is good, I’m just good enough.” He takes a sip of his cappuccino and Luhan looks at the sandwich on his plate.
“I want to see your pictures,” he says, picking up one half and inspecting it.
“You will,” Minseok says. “In five months at the exhibition.” Luhan takes a bite of his sandwich and he looks pleasantly surprised.
“Toasted just right,” he comments. “Have you decided yet?” He asks Minseok. “What you’re doing for the exhibition?”
Minseok shakes his head. “No, not quite.” Luhan purses his lips. “Why are you so interested?”
“It’s interesting,” Luhan says. “I love photography, I would love to do photography, but I never got the chance. I could never afford a camera.”
“You can sing though.”
“How do you know? You’ve never heard me sing.”
“You’ve never seen my photos.” Minseok smiles at Luhan. “I would like to hear you sing though.” Luhan shakes his head, and takes another bite of his sandwich. Minseok blows out his cheeks. “Why not?”
Luhan’s eyes go wide, then he laughs into his hand, resting his sandwich down. He leans across the table and places a finger on either side of Minseok’s face. “You are the cute one,” he says, poking his cheeks. Minseok reaches up and wraps his fingers around Luhan’s wrists.
“Hey,” he says. “Did you want to get dinner tomorrow night?”
“Hey, yes, I think that would be nice.” Luhan drops his hands and pulls away.
“Perhaps we should exchange numbers?” Minseok asks.
“Oh, yes sure hold on.” It takes a while for Luhan to find his phone buried at the bottom of his bag, but he does.
~✾~
“Welcome home!” Yixing greets when Luhan walks in an hour later. Luhan smiles at him. “Did you eat?”
“Yes,” Luhan says. “I did, and it was delicious, he has good taste.”
“Who does?” Yixing asks.
“Minseok.”
“Luhan, who is that?” Yixing speaks cautiously.
“I think I have a date tomorrow night.” Luhan smiles to himself and rocks happily from side to side. “I’m gonna go study,” he says. He goes to his room and turns on the light, leaving the door open. Yixing follows him and stops in the doorway.
“He’s nice?” Yixing asks and Luhan spins around in his chair. He nods.
“You look happy.”
“I guess I’m alright.”
“That’s good then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Yixing closes the door when he leaves.
Luhan’s phone goes off in his pocket and he freezes. His heart drops into his stomach faster than the short text message buzz. He pulls it out slowly and takes a deep breath before looking at the screen.
See you tomorrow! Luhan breathes out. And don’t be late! Seriously this place is the best, I’m excited.
Luhan smiles and sends a text back. I’ll be on time! I promise!
four months.
They sit under the oldest tree on campus, watching people come and go. Minseok takes photos of the old buildings, still standing strong and overgrown with vines. Luhan switches between reading and watching Minseok.
“Why don’t you do something with nature?” Luhan asks and Minseok shakes his head. “You take really nice scenic photos though.” Luhan leans in and looks at the small screen. “It’s nice,” he says.
“Doesn’t feel quite right,” Minseok says. “This is a pretty important exhibition; I need to find something that feels right, even if I find it two weeks before.”
“You’ll do well,” Luhan sighs, leaning his head on Minseok’s shoulder. He reaches for Luhan’s hand, but Luhan pulls away, tugging his sleeves and resting them in his lap.
~✾~
Yixing’s ears tune in on the vibrations coming from the other room. He runs into the living area and finds Luhan’s phone on the small coffee table. He considers declining the call when he sees the name, but he picks it up on the last ring.
“Stop calling him,” he hisses.
“Yixing, nice to know that you’re still around,” says the voice on the other end of the line.
“Well you sure as hell aren’t.”
“How’s Luhan these days?”
“Shut up. Don’t talk about him as though you ever cared.”
“I’m genuinely worried.”
“Bullshit. Don’t bother calling anymore. He’s doing a lot better.”
“Good to know he’s still living.”
“Shut up!” Yixing can feel the tears forming. “You don’t know anything. It’s partly your fault; you used him then threw him to the side of the road. You treated him like garbage.”
“Yixing, you of all people should know that the good guys never win. Look at yourself. You can treat Luhan like a prince all you want, but he still won’t fall for you.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Yixing says roughly. “Luhan is my best friend, of course I care about him.”
“You’re in love with him, you have been for years, and it isn’t beautiful.”
Yixing loses his voice somewhere in his throat. “You’re wrong,” he says.
“Leave him alone Kris, this is long over.”
“Is Luhan there?”
“No. He really isn’t.”
“What a shame I was really hoping to catch him this time. Well, it was so nice talking to you again Yixing. It’s been so long!”
“I’m hanging up now, don’t call again.”
“Yixi--” He presses end call and cuts off the rest of Kris’ sentence. Then he goes into Luhan’s call history, and deletes it.
~✾~
“Minseok, you have nothing done.” Jongdae eyes him from behind the laptop. Minseok sighs and rests his camera on the table. “Did you want to brainstorm together?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out Jongdae, I will.”
“It’s a photography exhibition; you don’t really have to have a theme. You take photos every day, pick your best ones.”
“Do you think its okay for me to be a part of this?” Minseok asks.
“Oh please, you have one of the best eyes for photos I’ve ever seen. It would be a crime for you not to be a part of it.”
“Liar, you’re the best.”
“You’re right, I am the best, but you’re pretty good too.” Jongdae flashes him a cocky smile and Minseok reaches over to punch his shoulder before standing up.
“I’m going for a walk,” he says, heading to the door.
“Pick up some dinner while you’re out!” Jongdae calls.
“We’ll see.”
He ends up back on campus, standing under the tree and staring across to the vine covered Arts building.
~✾~
Luhan’s phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. Yixing closes the fridge door and looks around. Luhan isn’t anywhere near, so he approaches the buzzing phone. He looks at the name on the screen and decides to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Luhan?” Comes the voice on the other end.
“No.”
“Who is this?”
“Yixing.” His voice is hard.
“Oh! You’re his roommate, right?”
“Yes, and who are you?”
“My name is Kim Minseok-”
“I know you’re name,” Yixing says. “I mean, who are you to Luhan?” There’s a pause, and it’s enough. “We need to talk,” Yixing says. “Are you busy right now?”
“No, not really. I’m just-”
“Meet me outside of the Arts building in half an hour. If you don’t show up, I’ll assume you don’t care.”
“Okay,” Minseok says, because there’s something about Yixing’s voice that tells him whatever it is, it’s important, and it frightens him a little bit.
Minseok sits on the grey concrete steps of the vine covered building with his camera in his hands. He’s early, so he takes pictures of the colours the descending sun paints across the sky. The oldest tree on campus looms in the distance, darkness hitting it first. Minseok has captured many sunsets, he’s captured a lot of nature, stopped all of it in time, and it’s something beautiful that he can admire whenever he wants. It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t always catch Minseok’s attention or peak his interest. He wouldn’t want to look at the same sunset or the same bird in the same tree for the rest of his life.
Yixing steps up in front of him, pulling his eyes from the LED screen. He doesn’t look as intimidating as he sounds, but he’s serious. “Minseok?”
“Yes, you must be Yixing.”
Yixing nods. “Do you want to photograph Luhan?” He asks and Minseok shakes his head.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then stay away from him.” Minseok’s words get stuck in his throat and all he can do is stare up at Yixing. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Why?” He manages to say.
“I’ve worked too hard for too long to have someone else come along and ruin everything again, and we’re still so far away from being okay. You don’t know anything about Luhan, you haven’t been there, you haven’t seen anything.”
“You’re right,” Minseok says. “I really don’t know anything about Luhan, but I’d like to. I’d like to know everything about him, because I like him.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” Minseok says without hesitation.
Yixing sighs. “Then, I’ll tell you the most important thing about Luhan, because he isn’t going to tell you on his own. And if you really like him, then don’t run away from this.” Minseok nods and Yixing sits down on the step next to him. He stares out at the near empty campus for several minutes and sits silent next to Minseok. The occasional student walks across and the sun sinks quickly. Yixing lets out several deep breaths before finding the right way to start. “Luhan,” he starts, “suffers from clinical depression. He has for years.” Minseok feels his heart stop, but he lets Yixing continue. “His sweaters aren’t too big, Luhan is too small, and he doesn’t buy new ones because his weight fluctuates too much, and he can hide under them.”
Minseok nods his head slowly. “Does he…” Minseok croaks and he finds he can’t finish the sentence.
“It’s not all him.” Yixing sighs. “Maybe one day he’ll show you. They’re faded now, but they’re still there, and a lot of them don’t come from him.” Yixing takes a shaky breath and Minseok studies his face. He can see the stress lines that make Yixing look older if you really take the time to look at him. Yixing moved faster than time did. “When Luhan was young, there was an accident. He was being too loud in the back seat, his mother yelled at him to be quiet and his father yelled at both of them. He missed the stop light, and the truck coming the other way was going too fast. The truck hit the driver’s side first, and his father didn’t make it. Luhan and his mother did though, physically at least. Luhan’s mother blamed his father’s death on him, and she didn’t cope very well.
“Luhan’s mother was always angry at him, she didn’t want anything to do with him, but she took her anger out on him. She’d drown herself in alcohol, and when the bottle was empty she…” Yixing trailed off and made an action of throwing something to the ground. “And the glass…” And Minseok thinks he gets it.
Minseok says nothing; and he wants to cry for Luhan, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes a deep breath (shakier than what he expects) and rubs his face.
Yixing nods slowly, as though he can hear it all registering in Minseok’s mind, and Minseok sees his eyes brim with tears, but none fall. He wonders how Jongdae can photograph human emotions, how he can capture a person in their saddest moment, freeze it and keep it. No one wants to be stuck in sadness, but Jongdae photographs it, he locks in that sad time, and Minseok thinks when it comes to emotions, Jongdae should be photographing Yixing instead. Except Luhan is prettier, and beautiful sadness makes for a better photo. The critics love tears that sparkle as opposed to those that just fall. Luhan has learned to hide the pain from others, but Yixing deals with a roller coaster of emotions every day. Luhan’s sadness affects his hidden actions and weighs down his eyes, but it weighs down Yixing’s entire body.
“It ended when Luhan was fifteen, when he came home from school and found his mother face down on the floor. He called her an ambulance, but he got home too late, she was already gone. Despite everything she had done to him, he still cried for her. He still cried for the woman who cut him and bruised him. Luhan loves freely and openly, despite not knowing what love is supposed to feel like.
“When Luhan was sixteen, he met a boy. Kris,” Yixing says. “That was his name. For almost two years Kris told Luhan that he was beautiful no matter what, that he was important, that he was everything. He told Luhan he was in love with him, and Luhan believed all of his bullshit.” A tear falls but Yixing doesn’t seem to notice it, and his face is angry when he turns to look at Minseok directly. “That bastard still calls Luhan’s phone,” he seethes. “He treated Luhan like shit, but Luhan thought it was okay because he thought Kris loved him. Kris didn’t physically hurt him like his mother did, so he figured it was better than his mother’s love.”
“What about your love?” Minseok asks.
“What? I don’t love Luhan.”
“You do love him,” Minseok says and Yixing looks down at his knees. “If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t still be with him. You wouldn’t be sitting next to me right now, telling me all of this. You’re an amazing best friend.”
“Right, of course, like a best friend, I do love him.” Yixing nods and looks back at Minseok. “Do you?” He asks.
Minseok thinks for a moment then speaks honestly. “I don’t know,” he says. “It’s too early to tell. But I’m not scared, and I’m not going to run away. I also don’t want to hurt Luhan, I want to help him get better.”
“You won’t leave?” Yixing asks.
“No,” Minseok assures him. “I won’t.”
“One more thing though; he was broken long before you came around, you can't fix him. You don't know where any of the pieces go. Don’t try to put him back together, he’ll always have scars, just treat him like you would any other friend.” Minseok nods and hopes that he can. Luhan photographs beautifully but he’s sad and broken, and Minseok doesn’t know how to fix things after they’ve broken. He usually just throws them out.
“Luhan seems to like you, so I guess I’ll have to trust you. But then again, Luhan likes everyone.” For the first time that evening, Yixing smiles at him, and Minseok smiles back. There is one more thing he’s curious about, but he isn’t sure he really wants to know the answer, so he keeps it to himself.
“It’s Wednesday,” Yixing says idly, and Minseok nods back at him. “I want to show you something, follow me.”
Yixing leads them into the Arts building and up the over polished stairs to the third floor. Room 315, it’s the music room, and inside, someone sits at the piano, hitting keys sporadically and randomly. They weren’t making music, they were passing time. Yixing opens the door and pops his head in. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “I met your new friend outside the building!”
Minseok notes that Yixing is speaking differently, his tone is slightly higher, and he wonders if someone who is trained in music, like Luhan, can hear that he speaks differently to different people.
“My new friend?” Comes a soft voice from inside, and Minseok counts his heartbeats in time with the syllables that slip slowly past Luhan’s lips. Yixing leads them in and Minseok sees Luhan sitting at the piano, body half turned to face them and one hand still resting atop the keys. He smiles a smile that doesn’t show his teeth, but rounds his cheeks and softens his jaw and Minseok’s fingers twitch, begging to reach for his camera. His hands move to the case slung over his shoulder and he grips the strap between his hands.
“Hi,” he says. Yixing notices his hands on the case, but turns his attention back to Luhan.
“Should we play for Minseok tonight?” Luhan looks almost terrified at the suggestion and Minseok watches the flecks of fear dance in his brown eyes. They weren’t completely dead, there was life in there just now, and Minseok grips the strap harder because he wants to stop time right here and then let it go again. “Just like we always practice, it will be fine,” Yixing says, and Luhan nods silently, then slides over to make room Yixing on the bench.
Yixing starts, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys and filling the room with music. It’s a melody that sounds familiar, even though it shouldn’t, because Minseok is sure he’s never heard it before. Luhan starts softly and sweetly, eyes on the piano and head nodding slowly to the sounds of the music Yixing makes. It takes Minseok a few seconds to realize that Luhan is singing in Chinese, and he can’t understand a word, so now he’s sure that he hasn’t heard this song before. Luhan’s voice gets stronger and louder when he forgets that Minseok is standing there listening, and it fills Minseok’s ears and echoes in his mind and he wonders if it’s possible to stop time and still have Luhan’s voice playing in the background. His hands find his camera in the case without him even realizing, and he takes pictures of Luhan and Yixing seated at the piano and making their music. His camera catches the scene and his memory catches the sound, he just hopes his memory is good enough to replay this for a very long time. Luhan’s voice is sweet, and he sways to the music. He hits all his notes and stays in tune (and Minseok knows this even though he doesn’t really know what a tune is) and he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anything so beautiful.
陽光 在我的心裡
Sunshine is in my heart
溫暖 不再失去 因為有你
I won’t lose warmth ever again because I have you
時間不會停 但我們會前進 走到底
Time won’t stop, but we will move onwards until the end.
The song ends and Luhan is smiling. Yixing watches Luhan fondly. “Perfect as always,” he says.
“That was amazing,” Minseok says, camera lowered to his chest, and Luhan snaps his head up like he forgot Minseok was there the entire time. Luhan tugs at his sleeves and looks back at the piano. A phone rings and Luhan freezes.
“It’s mine,” Yixing says, pulling it out of his jean pocket. “I need to take this; it’s my partner from my music composition class. I’ll just step outside.” He slides of the bench and quickly goes out the door.
“You took pictures?” Luhan asks, running his index finger over the keys.
“Uh, ya, sorry.” Minseok scratches the back of his head and returns his camera to his case, then moves to sit next to Luhan. Luhan continues to trace his finger over the piano keys. “You’re really good though. You and Yixing both, you sound amazing together.”
Luhan nods. “Thank you,” he says. “Yixing is the real talent, he learned that song without any sheet music.”
“You’re both talented,” Minseok says. He rests a hand on Luhan’s thigh, and he doesn’t seem to mind. “Your voice is really amazing. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Luhan says again, and he tugs on his sleeves. “He told you though, didn’t he?” Luhan moves his hand down to Minseok’s and traces lines along the back of his hand.
“Yes,” Minseok says, and Luhan’s fingers find the cracks in between Minseok’s. He wants to take a picture of this. He wants to keep Luhan’s hand over his for a very long time, but he can’t reach his camera like this, and he doesn’t want to move. “I like you, in case you haven’t figured it out yet,” Minseok says. He turns his hand over to lock their fingers properly. Luhan looks at him; he searches Minseok’s eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to their entwined fingers. Minseok brings his other hand up to Luhan’s face, touching his cheek gently. “Look at me,” he says, and Luhan does. “I’m right here, and I’m going to stay.”
He moves so he is pressed up against Luhan, and he traces his hand over Luhan’s cheek, down along his jawline, and then moves his hand behind his neck. Luhan welcomes it, and his eyes never leave Minseok’s. “Minseok,” he whispers, and Minseok only hums in response. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“I would like to.”
“I don’t know why you haven’t yet.” It’s Luhan who initiates it, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Minseok’s without hesitation. He falls against Luhan’s mouth easily and it’s sweeter than he imagined. And then Luhan pulls away and rest his forehead against Minseok’s. He reaches behind his head to grab Minseok’s other hand, pulling it down and twisting their fingers together. Then he leans in and kisses Minseok again. His lips linger and then he pulls away again. “I think I could do this a lot,” he says, pulling their hands apart so he can put them on Minseok’s face, and Minseok agrees so Luhan leans in again. He presses harder this time, and Minseok feels a smile form against his lips. He wraps an arm around Luhan’s waist and pulls him in as close as he can. Luhan’s smile grows wider and Minseok thinks he might be falling, so he grips Luhan’s waist tighter in hopes of keeping himself afloat for the time being.
The door swings open and Luhan pulls away. “Oh,” Yixing says. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“How is your partner?” Luhan asks, hands falling into his lap.
“She’s good; we’re just working on a project together.”
“She’s cute,” Luhan says, and Yixing agrees.
~✾~
Minseok hovers over him, but Luhan can’t touch him. His vision wavers and Minseok goes blurry. He reaches for him, but no matter how far he reaches, Minseok is always just too far away. It goes dark and Minseok vanishes from his vision completely. Luhan reaches out blindly. “Minseok,” he croaks, and he barely recognizes the sound of his own voice. He tries to call out, but he can’t open his mouth this time.
“I’m right here Luhan,” Minseok’s voice breaks through the darkness, but Luhan still can’t see.
“Where?” And he can speak again.
“Right here!”
“I can’t see you,” Luhan cries.
“I can’t see you either.” Luhan closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing, which he didn’t even realize had picked up. When he opens his eyes again, he’s lying in his bed, sunlight streaming through the half opened blinds. He can hear the birds singing outside and Yixing is moving in the kitchen.
I can’t see you either, echoes through his mind.
( part 2)
Pairing: Xiumin/Luhan (past!Luhan/Kris, slight!Luhan/Lay)
Rating: R
Warnings: highlight for warnings/spoilers: character death, mentions of past child abuse, mentions of past self harm, (mentions of) suicide, sex
Word Count: ~18 000
Summary: Minseok just wanted to know why the boy in Jongdae's photos always looked so sad.
Author's notes: Super huge thanks to my two lovely betas: S and K. You two are amazing and I couldn't have completely finished this without you! This was written for doeiros for the first round of soccerncoffee!
“You don't make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.” -Ansel Adams
ending.
Minseok doesn’t measure the days in time. Instead, he measures them by Luhan. He measures them by the number of bright flecks in his dull eyes, the number of creases running up his cheeks when he laughs, and the number of hidden marks all over his skin that time never could heal completely. Minseok doesn’t measure the days in time, because for him, time stopped when Luhan walked in, and forgot to start again when he walked out. The days however, keep going. Luhan is the dullest day of summer, but he’s also the brightest day in winter. Luhan is, not was. Luhan will never be a was because Minseok only remembers how many days there are in a month based on Luhan’s eyelashes fluttering softly when Minseok leans in too close.
Luhan was a ticking time bomb, and it’s a good thing he stopped ticking or the sound might distract Minseok from how many lines leave trails along Luhan’s palms. Minseok can’t go back in time. He can’t go back to those five short months, can’t ask time why it moved so fast or why certain people got so little while others got so much. So Minseok is glad he has the ability to capture time. He can’t stop it, he can’t start it again, he can’t even slow it down or speed it up; but he can take pieces of it. He makes sure to take more pieces of time than time takes of him. It isn’t fair, but nothing is.
He captures the green on the trees before the fall does, he captures the rabbits before the coyote does, and he captures Luhan before Luhan captures himself. He saves Luhan in his mind, against his skin, and on his walls. He captures Luhan too much and saves him everywhere, so that time can never turn and make Luhan a was.
five months.
Minseok is surprised to see Jongdae in the studio this early when he stumbles in with his portfolio overflowing and coffee burning through the cheap cup to his fingers. Jongdae sits back in his chair when he hears Minseok walk in.
“Morning,” he says groggily.
“Morning to you too,” Minseok replies, rushing to the counter against the back wall to put his steaming coffee down. “Ah, it’s hot,” he says idly to himself, shaking his hand once he gets the coffee down. Then, he carefully puts his portfolio down to prevent the pictures from falling everywhere. “You’re in early,” he says, removing the lid from his coffee and blowing at it in an attempt to cool it down.
“Never left,” Jongdae replies. He rubs his eyes and turns to look back at Minseok. “We had a great shoot last night. I’ve been going through all the shots I got. Some of these can definitely be used in the exhibition.”
“Let me see,” Minseok pushes himself off the counter and moves to stand behind Jongdae. He rests his hand on the back on the black chair and leans into the screen. Jongdae starts to flip through the hundreds of photos he got the night before.
“There’s over two hundred in here from last night alone,” he says. Minseok eyes the lighting, shadows, angles and model set up. Everything is toeing on perfection and he’s constantly reminded why Jongdae was chosen for the exhibition committee; he just has an eye for photography.
“Hold on,” Minseok says, leaning right against the chair and stopping Jongdae’s scrolling. “Go back.” Jongdae does.
“This one?” He asks. “I was experimenting a bit with space in this one.” There’s only one model in the picture and Minseok stares intently at the face. “I’m not sure how much I--”
“It’s beautiful,” Minseok cuts him off. “Tab this one. We need to go back to it, it might be useable. Perfect use of space.”
“Do you think the lighting is a little off on Luhan’s face though? I got a few others maybe we could--”
“Luhan?”
“Minseok, please stop cutting me off. I know it’s early but--”
“This model, who is he?” Jongdae groans loudly and throws himself on the desk, narrowly avoiding the laptop. Minseok looks incredulously at Jongdae and waits for his answer.
“That’s Luhan,” he grumbles. “Exchange student in the choir club with me.” Minseok looks at the picture again and stares hard at Luhan’s face. There is something off, but it isn’t the way Jongdae caught the lighting. Minseok cocks his head, then looks down at Jongdae who he’s pretty sure has fallen asleep on the desk. His eyes trail to the screen again and he finds himself mumbling out the question stuck in his mind. “Why does he look so sad?”
Jongdae lifts his head and looks at the screen. “I don’t know,” he says.
“When does your choir meet?”
“Minseok please don’t take my models. Don’t you have your own?” Jongdae replies sleepily.
“I’m not taking your models.”
“So then you’re suddenly interested in joining choir club.” Minseok stays silent for a long while and Jongdae sighs. “You’re a dick and I’m too tired for this.”
Minseok flashes him a bright smile and pokes at Jongdae’s shoulder. The morning light filters into the studio, reflecting off the white floor and walls. “Close the blinds,” Jongdae says. “It’s so bright.”
~✾~
Luhan wakes up to darkness, again. He feels the ground moving beneath him and it takes him a few moments to realize that it isn’t the ground that is shaking, but him. His mother’s light voice trickles in through the darkness. “Luhan?” She whispers. “Luhan, where are you?”
His hands fly up to cover his ears and his knees pull into his chest. “Stop,” he whispers. “Stop,” and his voice breaks. Tears stream down his face but he doesn’t particularly notice. “Stop,” he chokes out again, and it’s almost whimper, a silent plea to the empty world around him.
“Luhan.” A bottle smashes and someone is yelling words Luhan can’t understand, they’re too fuzzy. His breathing picks up and someone is calling his name again, but it isn’t his mother this time. “Luhan!” There’s a hand grabbing his arm and he pulls himself up so fast he’s afraid he’ll puke. He throws his body backwards and his head hits the wall.
“Luhan? Are you okay?” Yixing’s face registers in his vision. It’s painted with worry and his hand is stuck in mid pull back position from when he reached out to Luhan.
“Yes,” Luhan says, breaths still heavy. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His two-sizes-too-big long sleeve shirt sticks to his chest, slicked in cold sweat and rising and falling too fast as he tries to regulate his breathing again.
“You looked like you were having a nightmare,” his roommate says. “You look awful.”
“I’m fine Yixing, really. Like you said, just a bad dream.” Luhan kicks whatever is left of his covers to the side and crawls off his bed. “I’m going to shower,” he announces and ambles off to the bathroom.
Luhan stands at the sink and turns the tap all the way to cold. He lets it run for a bit before splashing the freezing water onto his face. Yixing’s razor stares at him from the counter, so Luhan picks it up and drops it in the trash. “He doesn’t even need you,” Luhan says, but his mother’s voice echoes in his mind.
There is a knock on the bathroom door and one voice chases out the other. “Luhan? I’m going off to my morning lecture now. You should probably leave for yours soon or you’ll be late again.” Luhan doesn’t reply. “Call or text me if you need anything, okay? I left you some breakfast on the counter.” He stares at the bathroom door listening to the sound of Yixing’s feet on the floor as he moves to the front of the apartment. He hears Yixing grab his windbreaker and when the front door opens and then closes again, Luhan strips out of his clothes. He stares at himself in the mirror briefly before turning to step into the shower. The cold water will clear his head just enough to get him through the day.
He spends ten minutes longer than necessary under the water and steps out into the apartment naked, save for the towel he had dropped on top of his head. His phone vibrates twice from on top of the kitchen table. Yixing must have put it there because he doesn’t remember leaving it there. He approaches it slowly and inhales deeply before checking the name on the screen.
It’s warmer than I thought it would be today! Wear a light sweater! Reads Yixing’s text. So Luhan does just that. He eats the egg and toast that Yixing left him and ten minutes later he walks into his morning lecture half an hour late. He doesn’t really care about Korean lit anyways.
~✾~
“Go away Minseok.” Jongdae starts to walk faster across campus.
“Am I not allowed to walk my best friend across campus to his choir club?” Minseok scurries to catch up to Jongdae.
“No because you have ulterior motives. Never trust a photographer with an exhibition coming up. Especially if that photographer is Kim Minseok.”
“Rude,” Minseok pouts. “But I’m really not trying to steal your models.” Minseok tugs on the adjustable straps of his backpack and matches his pace with Jongdae.
“Really?” But Jongdae doesn't sound convinced.
“Really. I just think that Luhan looks--” he pauses for a moment trying to come up with the right word. “Interesting,” is what he settles with.
“He’s quiet,” Jongdae says. “I don’t really know how interesting he is, but his face photographs well. I was looking for interesting faces, not interesting people.”
“You make us sound terrible.”
“We’re not. We’re just photographers with a big exhibition coming up in a few months and we need good photos. I don’t need anyone’s life story or their daily routines. And I have to get to choir so turn yourself around and go home.”
Minseok sighs. “Fine fine, I’ll see you at the apartment.” He does as he’s told and starts his walk back across campus, enjoying the nice day. He spots a boy out of the corner of his eye, sitting by himself under one of the oldest trees on campus, reading a book. Minseok didn’t entirely lie to Jongdae, he didn’t really want to photograph Luhan, but he also wasn’t one to pass up a perfect shot when he sees it. He flings his bag off one shoulder and undoes the zipper to pull out his camera. He brings it to his eye, adjusts the lens and clicks once, twice, three times. He admires the screen and then adjusts the settings briefly before taking more shots. Then he approaches the subject.
“Excuse me,” he says, and Luhan looks up from his book.
“Do I know you?” He asks, looking up, and Minseok is a little taken aback. He expected something more along the lines of “Yes?” or “Can I help you?”
“Uhh no,” he replies carefully. “But you know my friend, Jongdae.”
“The photographer?” Luhan asks, closing his book. Minseok notes that he doesn’t actually mark the page before closing it.
“Yes, and he’s also in your choir club, which I think you’re running late for by the way.”
“Do you want to photograph me as well?” Luhan ignores Minseok’s comment about him running late.
“No, I don’t actually.”
“Then…?” Luhan tugs at his sleeves and nods at the camera still in Minseok’s hands.
“Oh, uh, I just came to introduce myself. You might see me in the studio a lot since you’re working with Jongdae.”
“‘Kay,” Luhan says, and it isn’t much of a response at all. He puts his book in his bag and stands up. He’s taller than Minseok, and looks down at him slightly. “I’m late,” he says before walking off without another word. Minseok turns to watch him leave, then looks back down at his camera to flip through the photos he had taken of Luhan. He decides the setup is perfect, the angle is good and the lighting looks spot on. They’re really nice shots, he thinks to himself, and he smiles before he deletes all of them except for one. His thumb hovers over the delete button, but he can’t bring himself to push down.
~✾~
Luhan can smell dinner when he walks in the door and he finds Yixing at the table eating his spaghetti with chopsticks. He greets Luhan with a smile and swallows down his food before saying, “How was your day?”
Luhan shrugs. “Ordinary,” he says. “Always the same.”
“I made dinner,” Yixing says brightly, gesturing to Luhan’s dish sitting across from him. But Yixing always speaks brightly and he always makes dinner.
“I’m--” Luhan stops and Yixing waits. “I’m not hungry,” He says, and goes off into his room, closing the door behind him.
Hours later Luhan sneaks out of his room, moving quietly through the apartment. Yixing has moved his bowl from the table and likely put it into the fridge with any other leftovers. Except for the night light in the kitchen, the place is dark. He moves into the kitchen and goes straight to the drawer on the top right next to the sink. He tugs on it only to find that it’s locked. “God dammit,” he whispers, and tears threaten to fall down his cheeks. He shakes the handle harder and he can hear the metal rattling against each other inside the drawer. “God dammit,” he says again.
The kitchen light turns on and Luhan shuts his eyes. He opens them again, adjusting to the sudden flood of light and he sees Yixing standing in the entryway, hair a mess, arms crossed and tank top too loose.
“What are you doing?” He asks. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you food.” Luhan can hear the sleep carrying on his voice, making it rougher than usual. He shakes his head and lets two tears fall. Yixing doesn’t ask, he just looks at him sadly. “Let’s go to bed then,” he says softly. “It’s late.”
Luhan follows Yixing into his room and slips underneath the covers with him. He curls himself into Yixing’s chest and clutches and the front of his shirt. He buries his face into Yixing’s neck, just under his chin, and lets out a silent sob. He’s shaking and his grip on Yixing’s shirt tightens and twists. He shudders when Yixing softly runs his hand over Luhan’s arm. It’s gentle, and eventually lulls Luhan into dreamless sleep and stops him from shaking.
~✾~
Minseok pulls the black blinds over the windows, blocking out the light of the sun still high in the sky at 5pm. Chinese take-out containers sit on the counter, still hot and still full.
“Do you need the studio at all in the next few days?” Jongdae asks, plugging in the lights.
“No, not really. I might come in to do some editing, but not to shoot. The trees on campus look really nice this time of year.” He makes his way to the back counter and pulls a couple plates out of one of the cupboards above him.
“Shouldn’t you be getting started on your shots for the exhibition?” Jongdae flicks on the light and adjusts it slightly before shutting it off again.
“I’m waiting on inspiration to hit,” Minseok says, grabbing a bit of everything and placing it on the one of the plates.
“Better hope it hits soon.”
Minseok smiles. “I think it will. I have a good feeling. You want a bit of everything, right?”
“You know me,” Jongdae says. “And today marks five months until exhibition day by the way, so it better hit soon. I’m not covering for you.”
“When have you ever needed to cover for me Jongdae, come on.” He puts half the noodles on Jongdae’s plate and saves the rest for himself. “I’m usually the one covering for you.”
“Okay, okay let’s not go reminiscing on times better forgotten.” There’s a knock on the door. “Oh, someone’s early.” Minseok puts the rest of the food on Jongdae’s plate while he goes to answer the door. “I’m so glad you could both make it!” He hears Jongdae say and Minseok steps away from the counter to peer around the hallway. Honestly, he wasn’t really expecting Luhan, but he’s a little disappointed to find that he isn’t there.
“Sehun?” Minseok asks.
“Well, this should make introductions easier,” Jongdae says, looking between the two. “How do you two know each other?”
“Creative writing,” Sehun says.
“He’s really good. I edited his work once.”
“Ya, I know,” Jongdae says. “His poem was in the newspaper. The city one, not the school one.”
Minseok looks up at the other boy, tall and slightly intimidating, and he feels tiny next to him. “Sorry, I don’t know you. I’m Kim Minseok, another photographer for the exhibition.” He holds his hand out to the other boy.
“Huang Zitao,” is the reply in a voice higher than he expected.
“Nice to meet you. Jongdae, you should eat you dinner before you get started.”
“Ya I will, we’re waiting on one more anyways.”
Jongdae is almost finished inhaling his food when a small voice interrupts. “Excuse me? Oh, I hope I’m not late.”
“Luhan!” Jongdae shoves the last of his dinner in his mouth when Luhan appears from the hallway. He has his backpack on and his sweater is oversized, making him look smaller than he is. “Hey we missed you at choir last night!”
Minseok shoots a quizzical at Luhan. “Ya sorry,” he says, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater. “I wasn’t feeling well. But I woke up feeling better today so it’s okay.”
“Mhm ya I understand, but I’m glad you’re feeling better today. Listen, I think I want to start with Tao and then I’m gonna go from there. I think I want to do some couple and group shots as well, so just talk amongst yourselves for a bit.” Sehun drops his bag on the table and pulls out his pencil and notebook.
“Are you writing, Sehun?” Minseok asks, and is answered with a ‘what does it look like I’m doing?’ look. “For class?” Sehun shakes his head. “What are you writing?”
“Did I ask you what you’re photographing?” Sehun asks, unamused.
“Well, no.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what I’m writing.”
Luhan brings himself further into the dining area while Zitao and Jongdae get set up on the other side. He smiles softly at Sehun. He takes his bag off and sits it on the counter, standing next to Minseok. “Sorry about yesterday,” he says. “I feel like I may have been rude on our first meeting, I hope you can forgive me.”
“Oh it’s fine, you weren’t feeling well.”
“Can we try it again?” Luhan asks, looking Minseok in the eyes.
“Try what?”
“Hi,” Luhan says, holding out his hand. “My name is Luhan, nice to meet you.”
Minseok takes his hand. “Minseok,” he says. “You model for my friend Jongdae. It’s nice to officially meet you, Luhan.”
Luhan doesn’t say much that evening, but Minseok enjoys his presence. “Do you like modeling?” Minseok asks, trying to make conversation.
Luhan shrugs. “I guess so,” he says. “I like cameras. They freeze time, they catch things we might not catch, and they see things we can’t see. The lens sees everything, you can’t hide. It undresses you from the inside out. There are some things you can only really show people with photos. ” Minseok nods along. He agrees, but he’s never heard it said out loud before. They watch Jongdae photograph Zitao, and then Sehun.
“Minimalism,” Minseok says, and Luhan looks at him. “Jongdae is trying to see how many emotions he can get while using as little props as possible. All he needs are his lights, a white background, and ordinary people.”
“I can’t wait for the exhibition then to see what he does with it.”
When Luhan takes his turn, Minseok pulls out his laptop and realizes that while Jongdae must have over six hundred photos and counting to pick through, he has nothing. He works on his English essay instead.
They do group shots, spread out across the white, and then Luhan is finding his way back to Minseok’s side. “Will you be here tomorrow?” He asks.
“Most likely,” Minseok replies.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Luhan gives him a smile and Minseok smiles back, but the fact that Luhan’s smile is almost forced, doesn’t go unnoticed.
~✾~
“Welcome home,” Yixing greets Luhan with a smile when he walks in the door and toes off his shoes. “How was the shoot?”
“It was good,” Luhan says.
“Great! Are you hungry?”
“No, I ate.”
“Oh good!” But he isn’t entirely convinced.
“Yixing,” Luhan’s look is hard and trained on Yixing’s bright face.
“Yes?”
“You locked it.”
Yixing sighs. “Luhan…”
“Why did you lock the drawer?”
“You know it’s better that way.” Luhan tugs on his sleeves and looks at his feet. He mumbles something that Yixing doesn’t pick up. “I’m sorry Luhan, I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said I think I’ll go to bed now. I’m feeling tired.”
“Did you get all your work done at Jongdae’s studio?” Yixing calls as Luhan heads to his room.
“Who are you? My mother?” Luhan closes the door and moves through the darkness straight to his bed.
“No,” Yixing says from the hallway. “I am definitely not your mother.”
~✾~
Minseok walks into the studio ten minutes after seven and sees Luhan already seated at the table. He sees Luhan before he hears the loud clanking from the other side of the room. He turns his head to find pieces of equipment all over the studio floor and Jongdae’s rear end sticking out of the equipment closest.
“Jongdae, what are you doing?”
“Minseok! Minseok, is that you?” Jongdae backs himself out of the closet. “Oh thank god you’re here,” he says, leaning back on his heels.
“Where are our back up light bulbs?”
“Top shelf, right side, white box,” Minseok says, moving to the table. Jongdae makes a noise of frustration. “And clean that up.”
“Hi,” Luhan says softly, smiling up at Minseok. He doesn’t notice that this one is a little less forced.
“You’re early,” he comments. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes I have, thank you.” Luhan’s voice is as gentle as the look he gives Minseok, and he itches to pull his camera out of his bag, but he reaches for his laptop instead. “What is your concept?” Luhan asks. Minseok places his laptop on the table and sits down across from Luhan, flashing him a look of confusion. “For your part of the exhibition?”
“Oh,” Minseok chuckles to himself. “I don’t know yet,” he says. “I’m waiting on inspiration to hit.”
“Isn’t it in five months?”
“Sure, but I’m not worried. I’m sure inspiration will hit soon.” Luhan flattens his lips and nods his head. “What are you reading?” He asks, nodding at the book in Luhan’s hands. The sleeves of his sweater are too long, and they cover his hands holding the book.
“The Tale of Hong Gildong,” Luhan says. “For my Ancient Korean Literature class.”
“Alright Luhan!” Jongdae calls from the other side of the room. Luhan closes the book, and smiles at Minseok before getting up. He doesn’t mark the page.
~✾~
“Did you eat?” Yixing asks.
“Yup, grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria on campus,” Luhan replies. He walks off to his room and Yixing eyes the way his sweater falls over his body. He sighs and rubs his temple, concluding that it looks looser than it did last month. He’s known Luhan long enough to know when Luhan lies.
~✾~
Don’t walk me to choir tonight. You’re weird and embarrassing (;-_-)ノ
Minseok throws his phone next to him and scoffs. Then he turns his attention back to the camera in his hands, playing with the settings. A breeze rustles the leaves of the tall tree looming above him as he holds it up and takes an experimental picture of the Arts building and the open field filled with students. He checks the LED screen and makes an unsatisfied face at the photo. He plays with the settings again and holds the camera up once more, only to have his lens blocked by a pair of legs.
“You’re in my spot,” says the pair of legs. Luhan looms over him, then crouches down, resting his arms on his knees. He stares at Minseok. Minseok stares back, not sure how to reply and feeling slightly uncomfortable under Luhan’s gaze.
“Uhm,” he starts and raises his camera slightly, showing it to Luhan. “I just--”
“For the exhibition?” Luhan asks.
“Well no, not really.” And then, Luhan pouts at him. Before Minseok can stop himself, he has his camera at his face, catching a photo of Luhan’s.
“Hey! I thought you said you didn’t want to photograph me!” Luhan reaches for his camera, and Minseok pulls it out of his way.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Minseok stutters. “I’ll delete it.”
“No, no, just let me see it.” Luhan leans into Minseok to get a view of the screen. His shoulder presses into Minseok’s chest and his hand rests on the ground between Minseok’s legs, so he turns the camera to Luhan.
“You look cute,” he says.
Luhan turns his head sharply and suddenly his face is way too close. Minseok’s breath catches itself in his throat. “I’m not cute,” Luhan says, and he’s serious, but Minseok still thinks he looks cute. Cute, and way too close.
“You should go to choir,” Minseok says. “You’ll be late.”
“You’re right, but will I see you tomorrow?”
“At the studio? Sure, if you’re stopping by again, I’ll be there.” Luhan nods and stands up.
“Okay,” he says. “Bye.” He grabs the straps of his backpack and nods at Minseok again before turning a leaving.
Cute, and no longer close enough. Minseok lifts his camera again and focuses on the boy walking away from him. He walks toward the sun that has started to set, and Minseok snaps the photo. He takes three more, adjusting his lens as Luhan gets further away. He goes to capture one more, and Luhan turns around. He’s stopped, body half turned and face looking at Minseok. The lens catches the facial expression that Minseok’s bare eyes don’t. Minseok sees a slight smile appearing on a straight face. The camera sees longing, sadness, and bad memories.
Minseok quickly stuffs his camera back in its case, swinging it over his shoulder and grabbing his bag and phone that he had tossed away earlier. He leaves in the opposite direction, and Luhan continues on before watching him walk away.
~✾~
Luhan’s phone buzzes on the dining room table and Yixing realizes it’s ringing for a phone call, not a text message. He runs to the phone and sees a familiar name come in on Luhan’s caller ID. He hits decline, and deletes the call history.
~✾~
Minseok finds Luhan fascinating, in the way that he poses for Jongdae’s camera. It’s slight, and nothing over the top, and Jongdae is amazing in the way he captures it. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t frown either, and yet there is so much to say about the emotion in the photos. Minseok has seen the pictures on the computer, he’s seen the look in Luhan’s eyes, he’s felt it, leaning over Jongdae’s shoulder every night after Luhan leaves on the days they meet in the studio.
Dead. Luhan’s eyes are dead. There is nothing there and he doesn’t notice it until he stares hard at Jongdae’s photos. There’s nothing there, and it hits Minseok directly in the face.
“How many photos do you have?” Minseok asks casually, setting Jongdae’s cup of coffee on the table next to him.
Jongdae leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. “A thousand or so?” he says. “I’ll pick twenty five of the best. I’m not even done yet.”
“And your findings so far?”
Jongdae looks up at him. “Everyone has a past,” he says.
~✾~
The shouting is loud enough to deafen a child, so Luhan covers his ears and rocks himself back and forth. Luhan feels the pain all over again, he should have just pretended to be asleep, why didn’t he just pretend he was asleep? His thigh hit the stair first, then his waist, and finally his head. Luhan doesn’t remember falling, just pain searing through his body as he lies at the bottom of the wooden staircase. A glass bottle falls off the counter and smashes to pieces somewhere in the kitchen and then there’s more shouting.
“Luhan!” His mother’s voice rings in his ear louder than the pounding pain in his head. Something smells funny. Luhan doesn’t like the smell. He tries to open his eyes, but all he can process is darkness.
He’s on his feet, kind of. It’s a little wobbly and Luhan doesn’t think he’s the one holding himself up. The sound of skin hitting skin screams at Luhan but not as loud as Luhan screams at himself.
Luhan thinks of the knives on the kitchen counter, but he also thinks of soft hands, tracing his face and the lines on his palm and the dips in his body when he lies down on his side. The hands, he thinks, are infinitely worse than the knives, because soft hands always cut deeper than sharp knives.
“Luhan?” It’s Yixing’s voice, and suddenly Luhan is falling. He reaches out for support. “Luhan,” Yixing speaks again, a little louder this time. But Yixing never catches him, he can still feel himself falling.
Yixing. Luhan doesn’t hear himself speak. “Luhan.” And finally Yixing’s hand reaches his shoulder and he’s pulled back.
Yixing hovers over Luhan, watching him carefully. “Hey,” he says. “If you don’t get up, you’ll be late again. Are you going to go today?” Luhan sniffs and realizes that his face and his pillow are wet.
“Huh?” Luhan wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Yixing says, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at Luhan. He sniffs again and Yixing reaches down to take Luhan’s face in his hands. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, you’re fine, I’m right here, it’s just me.” He wipes at the tears with his thumb, and Luhan lets him, even though Yixing’s hands have always been rough.
~✾~
Minseok drags himself across campus, wishing he had started on his English essay a little earlier, and maybe spent a little less time in the studio with Jongdae over the past week. He stops in the café on campus. He needs a coffee, he needs it strong, and he needs it now.
“Make it a large, Chanyeol,” he says, walking straight for the counter.
“You got it buddy.” Chanyeol mock salutes him and gets to making Minseok his coffee. He leaves a bill on the counter and tells Chanyeol to keep the change when he hands him his coffee. “Thanks, I’ll use it to buy my girl something nice,” he jokes.
The bell on the door dings when someone else walks in. Minseok turns to leave when he sees that it’s Luhan who had walked in. His sweater is too big again and Minseok wonders why Luhan doesn’t buy clothes that fit him. Luhan sees him, and he smiles. “Good morning!” Chanyeol greets. Luhan nods at him and then looks at Minseok.
“Good morning,” he says.
“That depends on what you consider a good morning,” Minseok laughs, taking a sip of his coffee. It burns his top lip.
Luhan doesn’t laugh. “Are you off to class now?” Minseok nods. “Do you want to meet me back here at about 6:30?” Luhan asks, and Minseok’s heart does a flip.
“Sure,” he says. “I’ll see you then.” When he exits the shop he mentally applauds his voice for staying stable. Then he shakes his head, trying to rid it of thoughts of Luhan.
Hours later, Minseok walks back into the coffee shop. He’s exhausted, but he doesn’t feel it, especially after he sees Luhan sitting by himself at one of the tables. He’s got his chin rested on one hand and he stares out the window as the sun starts to sink into the ground. He doesn’t look up until Minseok pulls out a chair.
“You came,” Luhan says.
“Of course, I said I would.” Luhan hums and smiles to himself. Minseok itches to pull out his camera, but he folds his hands and places them on the table in front of him. He isn’t photographing Luhan, that’s Jongdae’s job. It’s Jongdae’s job to capture all of Luhan’s little emotions. “Did you want something to drink?” He asks. “Or something to eat? Their sandwiches are pretty good here.”
“Oh, I can get it myself, it’s okay,” Luhan says.
“No, tell me what you want, I’ll get it for you. My treat.” Minseok winks at him and Luhan looks a little shocked.
“Ok, um I guess I want the Americano, and for the sandwich… surprise me,” he decides. “I’ll give you some money,” he says, turning to his bag on the empty seat next to him to get his wallet.
“Nope.” Minseok stands up. “My treat, I said.” Luhan gapes at him, like he isn’t sure what to do, but he stops going for his wallet and says nothing, so Minseok goes off to order for the both of them.
“You’re really lucky,” Luhan says, when Minseok comes back with their food and drinks.
“Why is that?”
“You get to be a part of the exhibition. You must be really good if they chose you.”
“Jongdae is good, I’m just good enough.” He takes a sip of his cappuccino and Luhan looks at the sandwich on his plate.
“I want to see your pictures,” he says, picking up one half and inspecting it.
“You will,” Minseok says. “In five months at the exhibition.” Luhan takes a bite of his sandwich and he looks pleasantly surprised.
“Toasted just right,” he comments. “Have you decided yet?” He asks Minseok. “What you’re doing for the exhibition?”
Minseok shakes his head. “No, not quite.” Luhan purses his lips. “Why are you so interested?”
“It’s interesting,” Luhan says. “I love photography, I would love to do photography, but I never got the chance. I could never afford a camera.”
“You can sing though.”
“How do you know? You’ve never heard me sing.”
“You’ve never seen my photos.” Minseok smiles at Luhan. “I would like to hear you sing though.” Luhan shakes his head, and takes another bite of his sandwich. Minseok blows out his cheeks. “Why not?”
Luhan’s eyes go wide, then he laughs into his hand, resting his sandwich down. He leans across the table and places a finger on either side of Minseok’s face. “You are the cute one,” he says, poking his cheeks. Minseok reaches up and wraps his fingers around Luhan’s wrists.
“Hey,” he says. “Did you want to get dinner tomorrow night?”
“Hey, yes, I think that would be nice.” Luhan drops his hands and pulls away.
“Perhaps we should exchange numbers?” Minseok asks.
“Oh, yes sure hold on.” It takes a while for Luhan to find his phone buried at the bottom of his bag, but he does.
~✾~
“Welcome home!” Yixing greets when Luhan walks in an hour later. Luhan smiles at him. “Did you eat?”
“Yes,” Luhan says. “I did, and it was delicious, he has good taste.”
“Who does?” Yixing asks.
“Minseok.”
“Luhan, who is that?” Yixing speaks cautiously.
“I think I have a date tomorrow night.” Luhan smiles to himself and rocks happily from side to side. “I’m gonna go study,” he says. He goes to his room and turns on the light, leaving the door open. Yixing follows him and stops in the doorway.
“He’s nice?” Yixing asks and Luhan spins around in his chair. He nods.
“You look happy.”
“I guess I’m alright.”
“That’s good then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Yixing closes the door when he leaves.
Luhan’s phone goes off in his pocket and he freezes. His heart drops into his stomach faster than the short text message buzz. He pulls it out slowly and takes a deep breath before looking at the screen.
See you tomorrow! Luhan breathes out. And don’t be late! Seriously this place is the best, I’m excited.
Luhan smiles and sends a text back. I’ll be on time! I promise!
four months.
They sit under the oldest tree on campus, watching people come and go. Minseok takes photos of the old buildings, still standing strong and overgrown with vines. Luhan switches between reading and watching Minseok.
“Why don’t you do something with nature?” Luhan asks and Minseok shakes his head. “You take really nice scenic photos though.” Luhan leans in and looks at the small screen. “It’s nice,” he says.
“Doesn’t feel quite right,” Minseok says. “This is a pretty important exhibition; I need to find something that feels right, even if I find it two weeks before.”
“You’ll do well,” Luhan sighs, leaning his head on Minseok’s shoulder. He reaches for Luhan’s hand, but Luhan pulls away, tugging his sleeves and resting them in his lap.
~✾~
Yixing’s ears tune in on the vibrations coming from the other room. He runs into the living area and finds Luhan’s phone on the small coffee table. He considers declining the call when he sees the name, but he picks it up on the last ring.
“Stop calling him,” he hisses.
“Yixing, nice to know that you’re still around,” says the voice on the other end of the line.
“Well you sure as hell aren’t.”
“How’s Luhan these days?”
“Shut up. Don’t talk about him as though you ever cared.”
“I’m genuinely worried.”
“Bullshit. Don’t bother calling anymore. He’s doing a lot better.”
“Good to know he’s still living.”
“Shut up!” Yixing can feel the tears forming. “You don’t know anything. It’s partly your fault; you used him then threw him to the side of the road. You treated him like garbage.”
“Yixing, you of all people should know that the good guys never win. Look at yourself. You can treat Luhan like a prince all you want, but he still won’t fall for you.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Yixing says roughly. “Luhan is my best friend, of course I care about him.”
“You’re in love with him, you have been for years, and it isn’t beautiful.”
Yixing loses his voice somewhere in his throat. “You’re wrong,” he says.
“Leave him alone Kris, this is long over.”
“Is Luhan there?”
“No. He really isn’t.”
“What a shame I was really hoping to catch him this time. Well, it was so nice talking to you again Yixing. It’s been so long!”
“I’m hanging up now, don’t call again.”
“Yixi--” He presses end call and cuts off the rest of Kris’ sentence. Then he goes into Luhan’s call history, and deletes it.
~✾~
“Minseok, you have nothing done.” Jongdae eyes him from behind the laptop. Minseok sighs and rests his camera on the table. “Did you want to brainstorm together?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out Jongdae, I will.”
“It’s a photography exhibition; you don’t really have to have a theme. You take photos every day, pick your best ones.”
“Do you think its okay for me to be a part of this?” Minseok asks.
“Oh please, you have one of the best eyes for photos I’ve ever seen. It would be a crime for you not to be a part of it.”
“Liar, you’re the best.”
“You’re right, I am the best, but you’re pretty good too.” Jongdae flashes him a cocky smile and Minseok reaches over to punch his shoulder before standing up.
“I’m going for a walk,” he says, heading to the door.
“Pick up some dinner while you’re out!” Jongdae calls.
“We’ll see.”
He ends up back on campus, standing under the tree and staring across to the vine covered Arts building.
~✾~
Luhan’s phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. Yixing closes the fridge door and looks around. Luhan isn’t anywhere near, so he approaches the buzzing phone. He looks at the name on the screen and decides to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Luhan?” Comes the voice on the other end.
“No.”
“Who is this?”
“Yixing.” His voice is hard.
“Oh! You’re his roommate, right?”
“Yes, and who are you?”
“My name is Kim Minseok-”
“I know you’re name,” Yixing says. “I mean, who are you to Luhan?” There’s a pause, and it’s enough. “We need to talk,” Yixing says. “Are you busy right now?”
“No, not really. I’m just-”
“Meet me outside of the Arts building in half an hour. If you don’t show up, I’ll assume you don’t care.”
“Okay,” Minseok says, because there’s something about Yixing’s voice that tells him whatever it is, it’s important, and it frightens him a little bit.
Minseok sits on the grey concrete steps of the vine covered building with his camera in his hands. He’s early, so he takes pictures of the colours the descending sun paints across the sky. The oldest tree on campus looms in the distance, darkness hitting it first. Minseok has captured many sunsets, he’s captured a lot of nature, stopped all of it in time, and it’s something beautiful that he can admire whenever he wants. It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t always catch Minseok’s attention or peak his interest. He wouldn’t want to look at the same sunset or the same bird in the same tree for the rest of his life.
Yixing steps up in front of him, pulling his eyes from the LED screen. He doesn’t look as intimidating as he sounds, but he’s serious. “Minseok?”
“Yes, you must be Yixing.”
Yixing nods. “Do you want to photograph Luhan?” He asks and Minseok shakes his head.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then stay away from him.” Minseok’s words get stuck in his throat and all he can do is stare up at Yixing. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Why?” He manages to say.
“I’ve worked too hard for too long to have someone else come along and ruin everything again, and we’re still so far away from being okay. You don’t know anything about Luhan, you haven’t been there, you haven’t seen anything.”
“You’re right,” Minseok says. “I really don’t know anything about Luhan, but I’d like to. I’d like to know everything about him, because I like him.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” Minseok says without hesitation.
Yixing sighs. “Then, I’ll tell you the most important thing about Luhan, because he isn’t going to tell you on his own. And if you really like him, then don’t run away from this.” Minseok nods and Yixing sits down on the step next to him. He stares out at the near empty campus for several minutes and sits silent next to Minseok. The occasional student walks across and the sun sinks quickly. Yixing lets out several deep breaths before finding the right way to start. “Luhan,” he starts, “suffers from clinical depression. He has for years.” Minseok feels his heart stop, but he lets Yixing continue. “His sweaters aren’t too big, Luhan is too small, and he doesn’t buy new ones because his weight fluctuates too much, and he can hide under them.”
Minseok nods his head slowly. “Does he…” Minseok croaks and he finds he can’t finish the sentence.
“It’s not all him.” Yixing sighs. “Maybe one day he’ll show you. They’re faded now, but they’re still there, and a lot of them don’t come from him.” Yixing takes a shaky breath and Minseok studies his face. He can see the stress lines that make Yixing look older if you really take the time to look at him. Yixing moved faster than time did. “When Luhan was young, there was an accident. He was being too loud in the back seat, his mother yelled at him to be quiet and his father yelled at both of them. He missed the stop light, and the truck coming the other way was going too fast. The truck hit the driver’s side first, and his father didn’t make it. Luhan and his mother did though, physically at least. Luhan’s mother blamed his father’s death on him, and she didn’t cope very well.
“Luhan’s mother was always angry at him, she didn’t want anything to do with him, but she took her anger out on him. She’d drown herself in alcohol, and when the bottle was empty she…” Yixing trailed off and made an action of throwing something to the ground. “And the glass…” And Minseok thinks he gets it.
Minseok says nothing; and he wants to cry for Luhan, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes a deep breath (shakier than what he expects) and rubs his face.
Yixing nods slowly, as though he can hear it all registering in Minseok’s mind, and Minseok sees his eyes brim with tears, but none fall. He wonders how Jongdae can photograph human emotions, how he can capture a person in their saddest moment, freeze it and keep it. No one wants to be stuck in sadness, but Jongdae photographs it, he locks in that sad time, and Minseok thinks when it comes to emotions, Jongdae should be photographing Yixing instead. Except Luhan is prettier, and beautiful sadness makes for a better photo. The critics love tears that sparkle as opposed to those that just fall. Luhan has learned to hide the pain from others, but Yixing deals with a roller coaster of emotions every day. Luhan’s sadness affects his hidden actions and weighs down his eyes, but it weighs down Yixing’s entire body.
“It ended when Luhan was fifteen, when he came home from school and found his mother face down on the floor. He called her an ambulance, but he got home too late, she was already gone. Despite everything she had done to him, he still cried for her. He still cried for the woman who cut him and bruised him. Luhan loves freely and openly, despite not knowing what love is supposed to feel like.
“When Luhan was sixteen, he met a boy. Kris,” Yixing says. “That was his name. For almost two years Kris told Luhan that he was beautiful no matter what, that he was important, that he was everything. He told Luhan he was in love with him, and Luhan believed all of his bullshit.” A tear falls but Yixing doesn’t seem to notice it, and his face is angry when he turns to look at Minseok directly. “That bastard still calls Luhan’s phone,” he seethes. “He treated Luhan like shit, but Luhan thought it was okay because he thought Kris loved him. Kris didn’t physically hurt him like his mother did, so he figured it was better than his mother’s love.”
“What about your love?” Minseok asks.
“What? I don’t love Luhan.”
“You do love him,” Minseok says and Yixing looks down at his knees. “If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t still be with him. You wouldn’t be sitting next to me right now, telling me all of this. You’re an amazing best friend.”
“Right, of course, like a best friend, I do love him.” Yixing nods and looks back at Minseok. “Do you?” He asks.
Minseok thinks for a moment then speaks honestly. “I don’t know,” he says. “It’s too early to tell. But I’m not scared, and I’m not going to run away. I also don’t want to hurt Luhan, I want to help him get better.”
“You won’t leave?” Yixing asks.
“No,” Minseok assures him. “I won’t.”
“One more thing though; he was broken long before you came around, you can't fix him. You don't know where any of the pieces go. Don’t try to put him back together, he’ll always have scars, just treat him like you would any other friend.” Minseok nods and hopes that he can. Luhan photographs beautifully but he’s sad and broken, and Minseok doesn’t know how to fix things after they’ve broken. He usually just throws them out.
“Luhan seems to like you, so I guess I’ll have to trust you. But then again, Luhan likes everyone.” For the first time that evening, Yixing smiles at him, and Minseok smiles back. There is one more thing he’s curious about, but he isn’t sure he really wants to know the answer, so he keeps it to himself.
“It’s Wednesday,” Yixing says idly, and Minseok nods back at him. “I want to show you something, follow me.”
Yixing leads them into the Arts building and up the over polished stairs to the third floor. Room 315, it’s the music room, and inside, someone sits at the piano, hitting keys sporadically and randomly. They weren’t making music, they were passing time. Yixing opens the door and pops his head in. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “I met your new friend outside the building!”
Minseok notes that Yixing is speaking differently, his tone is slightly higher, and he wonders if someone who is trained in music, like Luhan, can hear that he speaks differently to different people.
“My new friend?” Comes a soft voice from inside, and Minseok counts his heartbeats in time with the syllables that slip slowly past Luhan’s lips. Yixing leads them in and Minseok sees Luhan sitting at the piano, body half turned to face them and one hand still resting atop the keys. He smiles a smile that doesn’t show his teeth, but rounds his cheeks and softens his jaw and Minseok’s fingers twitch, begging to reach for his camera. His hands move to the case slung over his shoulder and he grips the strap between his hands.
“Hi,” he says. Yixing notices his hands on the case, but turns his attention back to Luhan.
“Should we play for Minseok tonight?” Luhan looks almost terrified at the suggestion and Minseok watches the flecks of fear dance in his brown eyes. They weren’t completely dead, there was life in there just now, and Minseok grips the strap harder because he wants to stop time right here and then let it go again. “Just like we always practice, it will be fine,” Yixing says, and Luhan nods silently, then slides over to make room Yixing on the bench.
Yixing starts, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys and filling the room with music. It’s a melody that sounds familiar, even though it shouldn’t, because Minseok is sure he’s never heard it before. Luhan starts softly and sweetly, eyes on the piano and head nodding slowly to the sounds of the music Yixing makes. It takes Minseok a few seconds to realize that Luhan is singing in Chinese, and he can’t understand a word, so now he’s sure that he hasn’t heard this song before. Luhan’s voice gets stronger and louder when he forgets that Minseok is standing there listening, and it fills Minseok’s ears and echoes in his mind and he wonders if it’s possible to stop time and still have Luhan’s voice playing in the background. His hands find his camera in the case without him even realizing, and he takes pictures of Luhan and Yixing seated at the piano and making their music. His camera catches the scene and his memory catches the sound, he just hopes his memory is good enough to replay this for a very long time. Luhan’s voice is sweet, and he sways to the music. He hits all his notes and stays in tune (and Minseok knows this even though he doesn’t really know what a tune is) and he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anything so beautiful.
陽光 在我的心裡
Sunshine is in my heart
溫暖 不再失去 因為有你
I won’t lose warmth ever again because I have you
時間不會停 但我們會前進 走到底
Time won’t stop, but we will move onwards until the end.
The song ends and Luhan is smiling. Yixing watches Luhan fondly. “Perfect as always,” he says.
“That was amazing,” Minseok says, camera lowered to his chest, and Luhan snaps his head up like he forgot Minseok was there the entire time. Luhan tugs at his sleeves and looks back at the piano. A phone rings and Luhan freezes.
“It’s mine,” Yixing says, pulling it out of his jean pocket. “I need to take this; it’s my partner from my music composition class. I’ll just step outside.” He slides of the bench and quickly goes out the door.
“You took pictures?” Luhan asks, running his index finger over the keys.
“Uh, ya, sorry.” Minseok scratches the back of his head and returns his camera to his case, then moves to sit next to Luhan. Luhan continues to trace his finger over the piano keys. “You’re really good though. You and Yixing both, you sound amazing together.”
Luhan nods. “Thank you,” he says. “Yixing is the real talent, he learned that song without any sheet music.”
“You’re both talented,” Minseok says. He rests a hand on Luhan’s thigh, and he doesn’t seem to mind. “Your voice is really amazing. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Luhan says again, and he tugs on his sleeves. “He told you though, didn’t he?” Luhan moves his hand down to Minseok’s and traces lines along the back of his hand.
“Yes,” Minseok says, and Luhan’s fingers find the cracks in between Minseok’s. He wants to take a picture of this. He wants to keep Luhan’s hand over his for a very long time, but he can’t reach his camera like this, and he doesn’t want to move. “I like you, in case you haven’t figured it out yet,” Minseok says. He turns his hand over to lock their fingers properly. Luhan looks at him; he searches Minseok’s eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to their entwined fingers. Minseok brings his other hand up to Luhan’s face, touching his cheek gently. “Look at me,” he says, and Luhan does. “I’m right here, and I’m going to stay.”
He moves so he is pressed up against Luhan, and he traces his hand over Luhan’s cheek, down along his jawline, and then moves his hand behind his neck. Luhan welcomes it, and his eyes never leave Minseok’s. “Minseok,” he whispers, and Minseok only hums in response. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“I would like to.”
“I don’t know why you haven’t yet.” It’s Luhan who initiates it, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Minseok’s without hesitation. He falls against Luhan’s mouth easily and it’s sweeter than he imagined. And then Luhan pulls away and rest his forehead against Minseok’s. He reaches behind his head to grab Minseok’s other hand, pulling it down and twisting their fingers together. Then he leans in and kisses Minseok again. His lips linger and then he pulls away again. “I think I could do this a lot,” he says, pulling their hands apart so he can put them on Minseok’s face, and Minseok agrees so Luhan leans in again. He presses harder this time, and Minseok feels a smile form against his lips. He wraps an arm around Luhan’s waist and pulls him in as close as he can. Luhan’s smile grows wider and Minseok thinks he might be falling, so he grips Luhan’s waist tighter in hopes of keeping himself afloat for the time being.
The door swings open and Luhan pulls away. “Oh,” Yixing says. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“How is your partner?” Luhan asks, hands falling into his lap.
“She’s good; we’re just working on a project together.”
“She’s cute,” Luhan says, and Yixing agrees.
~✾~
Minseok hovers over him, but Luhan can’t touch him. His vision wavers and Minseok goes blurry. He reaches for him, but no matter how far he reaches, Minseok is always just too far away. It goes dark and Minseok vanishes from his vision completely. Luhan reaches out blindly. “Minseok,” he croaks, and he barely recognizes the sound of his own voice. He tries to call out, but he can’t open his mouth this time.
“I’m right here Luhan,” Minseok’s voice breaks through the darkness, but Luhan still can’t see.
“Where?” And he can speak again.
“Right here!”
“I can’t see you,” Luhan cries.
“I can’t see you either.” Luhan closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing, which he didn’t even realize had picked up. When he opens his eyes again, he’s lying in his bed, sunlight streaming through the half opened blinds. He can hear the birds singing outside and Yixing is moving in the kitchen.
I can’t see you either, echoes through his mind.
( part 2)