Everything You Touch (Turns to Gold)
Title: Everything You Touch (Turns to Gold)
Author: yeolxing
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/s: Minseok/Luhan, past!Luhan/Chanyeol, Sehun/Minseok
Length ~8700
Summary: At a time of uncertainty in his life Luhan finds Kim Minseok and learns to crave the pressure of his fingertips against his skin.
A/N: written for the 2014 round of soccerncoffee
February 13th 2014
Looking around the now empty apartment, the now not-theirs-anymore apartment, the space where the couch used to be - the couch Chanyeol fucked him into night after night, is like a slap to the face and a big fuck you in bright red, block font, bold letters. By the look on Chanyeol’s face Luhan can tell that he’s having similar thoughts. Saying goodbye and never again to such a huge chunk of your life isn’t easy or painless by any means. They’ve been, or rather had been together, for too many years for the spark to still remain and to ignite whatever passion was left. Chanyeol’s smile is sad, and bittersweet in a way, and despite how Luhan thinks that it’s not the time to be smiling, he smiles too. He’s always been the stronger one mentally of them both and if he shows a moment of weakness Chanyeol’s true feelings might seep out through the fake smiles. So Luhan puts up the brave front and hopes that one day the tension won’t be there.
Five years is a long time to be together before inevitably falling apart, but seven years of friendship is even longer. But, Luhan wonders, does keeping track of months upon months of being together really matter, if all of it is stashed away in a folder labelled ‘do not open until you are stronger’? What’s the distance between two people and two hearts that have no idea how to fend for themselves without feeling like they’re missing a limb?
This is it, huh?” Chanyeol asks. There’s no question of ‘Are you alright?’ and no ‘I’ll miss you’ to follow. It’s not needed. They had the teary goodbyes already and the recollections of their ups and downs and sentimentality isn’t going to change anything right now. They’re doing this for each other, for the better, to be able to go back to friendship someday because romance apparently wasn’t the right path.
“Yeah, I guess.” Luhan tries for a smile but comes up short. This is what it feels like to be missing a limb, to be missing a vital part of you that you’ve never been without for as long as you can remember. This is what is feels like to want to pick yourself up but not knowing how without having someone else to hold you up.
February 13th 2014
Mornings are always tough when Minseok has 183 centimeters of adolescent boy wrapped around him, long legs and arms encasing his body. Sehun’s got him in a chokehold and despite agreements and rules they’ve always done this. It’s more out of comfort rather than out of love. Sehun’s just a kid suffering from the consequences of unrequited love and a shitload of other issues to accompany it. It’s only a matter of time before he can walk steady on his own two feet without Minseok having to hold him up. When you’re young, you suffer from the unnecessarily painful things in life, which later on prove to be completely necessary. But Sehun doesn’t know that yet and Minseok doesn’t want to ruin the amazing feeling of relief that comes with finding out that heartbreak is for the better and some things don’t fall together just because they’re really not supposed to and wouldn’t really work out in the long run.
Sehun turns in his sleep and presses a wet kiss to Minseok’s bare chest in the process. He’s waking up slowly but surely. He looks the youngest between sleep and consciousness. The sunlight streams in through the curtains to paint him in different shades of blues and pinks, his hair sticking out in all possible directions and cheek red from where it had been pressing into the pillow all night long.
“Hey.” Sehun croaks. “You okay?” Sehun tends to catch onto Minseok’s weird moods. They’ve been at this long enough to be aware of what’s happening and why Minseok is being so quiet. Not that he usually isn’t. But this quietness is different in a very distinct way. There’s no ‘Good morning’ or ‘Did you sleep well?’.
“Yeah, I guess.” It’s a state between being conscious of your actions and unconscious of the consequences and Minseok constantly lives in this indecisiveness, has been living in it so long that it’s become his permanent state of being. It’s hazy and makes him aware of how unsatisfying everything is until the last drop of daylight bleeds out, sleep follows and then a morning just like this one comes.
February 14th 2014
The new apartment is sterile in its unlived in state. Luhan feels like a stranger to concrete walls, envious of how unyielding they are. Stability is what everyone craves and no matter how adventurous and go-with-the-flow you are, you’re most likely going to desperately try to cling to every bit of stability you can find at some point.
For Luhan that time is now. Everything is unfamiliar and completely new, and his to mark as something important. He wants the best possible. In his current state of weakness, he’s more likely to call Chanyeol, to ask if he’s up for helping Luhan move in. All in exchange for sex and alcohol and the glorious morning after. If he’s lucky.
But that’s all in the past when all Luhan had was two boxes and a mattress. Now he has a lot of money to his name. He likes to think he deserves a little luxury. Right now he doesn’t even have a mattress but hotels are sad and lonely and much more uncomfortable than sleeping on the floor ever will be. This is his space and not space hundreds upon hundreds of bodies had occupied in various states of undress.
This is all his and his alone. And that should make him feel a bit better but once the word ‘alone’ comes to mind, all Luhan can think of is Chanyeol and how not too long ago he wasn’t alone like he is now. In more ways than one.
February 14th 2014
Pretty wallpaper decorates the walls in intricate patterns. Minseok tries to trace endless swirls with his fingers. It’s gentle just like how he touches Sehun - with utmost care and a lingering fear of being too rough. He hopes Sehun doesn’t read too much into it. It’s not romance - it’s therapy. It’s support and friendship presented in the wrong way. It’s something that benefits both of them, takes away the loneliness if even for a mere moment. Gold patterns litter the walls and Minseok is enamoured in a way he rarely is. It’s an interesting beauty that he doubts most people that come here notice. There’s guilt felt when he comes to the conclusion that inanimate objects and intricate patterns bring him more joy than living breathing things.
Sehun stares up at him. Stars in his eyes and gratitude waiting to fall from his lips. Minseok fears words. They cut deeply in ways you’d never think they could. Praises falling from Sehun’s lips are sometimes so hollow that Minseok wonders if it’s because they’re falling on deaf ears or because Sehun himself is too exhausted to try and seem convincing. It’s all a game of true or false when nothing is neither one, nor the other, but always something in between.
February 18th 2014
Every sound bounces off the walls considering the only things he currently owns are boxes upon boxes of clothes and a mattress bought two days ago. Everything he and Chanyeol had - the coffee machine, the fridge with all the magnets on it (though the magnets are probably stashed away somewhere in Chanyeol’s things), the microwave, they’ve left to Baekhyun and Jongdae in hopes that their life together won’t start to crumble in the near future.
Luhan’s been living off takeout and lonely walks to coffee shops all while avoiding places he and Chanyeol used to go to. He’s not ready to get bombarded with memories and the daily dose of heartache injected into his cardiovascular muscle. When everything is something that holds sentimental value to you, you end up with nothing and nothing ends up with you. It’s a quiet friendship. In which Luhan often feels the urge to scream but doesn’t because the sound will just come back at him full on and cut him open. His mother used to tell him feelings were meant to be expressed and that bottling them up hurts you both emotionally and physically. And that’s a logical thing to say and maybe there would be a possibility of Luhan considering letting the emotions out in any shape or form - be it written or verbal. But his mother never did follow her own advice and never really opened her heart to Luhan. At least not after she fou nd out.
It’s strange when your mind is overflowing with thoughts and you’re in a space so empty, walls so white and bare, and floor so cold, when the smell of paint still lingers in the air. You almost envy it. The room is like that because everyone has the opportunity to make it their own - to paint over the white and hang up photos and fill shelves with the proof of a moment shared together. Luhan carries too much baggage to ever feel as light. He carries multiple suitcases that he can hardly even lift off the ground. They’re all labelled and the heaviest ones are those that drag him down like a rock tied to his ankle. He fears he might drown. But he wants to let it go and let it sink to the depths of the ocean. So he tries to move on. He’s strong enough to. Resilient enough.
Living in the past and thinking of old coffee makers and Chanyeol’s socks that had holes in them when they were still in university are things he wants to leave there - in the past. Just the details and the feelings. Although someday maybe he and Chanyeol will be able to communicate without the conversation revolving around work or a pointless ‘how have you been’. Because romantic love is something special and unique, but the love and support of Chanyeol as a friend is what Luhan wants to gain back someday.
That’s when he takes the first step. He calls the number his secretary had given him. She had said that freshening up his new apartment would maybe make him feel less lonesome. Apparently interior designers are usually talkative folk with a knack for curing your personal woes. He’s too desperate not to believe that. When everything that you’ve gotten used to in the past years gets taken away you have to rebuild your safe place - your home and your heart.
February 18th 2014
Despite most people’s beliefs Mondays aren’t the worst work days. For Minseok that’s always been Tuesdays. Mondays are more of an optimistic beginning. You show up to work and expect new things to come your way and a bit of excitement over a new job to make you feel needed and appreciated. Especially when people refer to you as being good at your job and someone who they trust with their most sacred place - home.
But reality is crushing and people are boring - even the ones Minseok has high hopes for and expectations about. The budget people set is never the thing that puts him off, because money is a tricky thing. It makes you think you have more, but then you realise you don’t have enough. So people save it for a rainy day and Minseok works with what he’s given.
Not all people are like that. There are also those that splurge and set a bar higher than Minseok would ever set for himself, and in those moments he wonders how does one spend all that money and not end up with kitsch and clutter. He tries to work with what he’s given then as well.
He’ll try to do that now. Mr. Lu is apparently a man whose wallet cannot be emptied no matter how hard you try. Minseok’s colleagues refer to him as ‘the rich guy that craps diamonds’ or if they’re not being too horrible - ‘the money tree man’. In truth, both seem accurate as far as first impressions go.
He had seemed pleasant over the phone or so Zitao had said. Minseok hopes for the best because he usually has a hard time dealing with the wealthy eccentric types, which in most cases are also egocentric. But Zitao is a good judge of character, so Minseok has no excuse not to trust his opinions.
February 21st 2014
Luhan agrees to meet Kim Minseok today on Friday. His assistant/intern had said he would need Saturday and Sunday to brainstorm.
Luhan has no idea what Kim Minseok is like, hasn’t bothered to check. However, he’s sure he can breathe some life into these walls and fill the rooms with something better than boxes full of whatever all over the floor. And Luhan despite his status of someone from the upperclass, doesn’t really care for fashion and what’s trendy. That had always been Chanyeol’s concern.
Luhan had always been the insightful of the two, but maybe that’s what work had turned him into. Chanyeol had been warm, but oftentimes he wouldn’t be able to see his faults, not really believing he had any sometimes. And that’s what work had turned him into too.
Luhan supposes that spending Friday nights reading manuscripts and immersing himself in new worlds had made him more or less someone who could not actively take part in Chanyeol’s world. And Chanyeol, despite his aspirations when they were both younger, had dived headfirst into an industry that would mould him into a shape of himself that Luhan would eventually find a bit disappointing. He had tried to suppress that thought, but it had pushed and pushed until it was all Luhan ever thought of - how they were so different and how they had gotten that way.
Chanyeol spent Friday nights with people that made Luhan feel inadequate. And that was when they had begun to falter. Because the things dividing them had started multiplying and the worry that Chanyeol would find someone better, someone that didn’t have scars along his legs because of playing soccer, someone with the pretty boy personality to go with his pretty face, had taken over Luhan’s thoughts. Chanyeol never did, though. But Luhan saw it in the ways he dealt with his models - attractive young boys with hopeful smiles, long legs and boyish charms. It was an ever-present fear.
In truth this apartment was an avid representation of what Luhan’s heart was now - empty. Chanyeol had made a home in it so many years ago, he had moved in and made himself comfortable and every pump of blood into Luhan’s heart had been for Chanyeol. But he had moved away. There was no one to occupy the space now. It’s time to look for a new tenant. And Luhan briefly wonders what he’d write for an ad, if normal humans functioned that way.
Room type: Single room
Accommodates: 1
Monthly Price: Free of Charge
P.S. I’m sorry it’s in poor condition but I hope you can help it heal.
February 21st 2014
It’s cold today and Minseok is grateful for the coffee Zitao brought him. But it’s not enough to protect him from the early morning chill.
Minseok often finds himself in Apgujeong, despite his dislike of it. He’s used to Insadong and Apgujeong is intimidating in comparison. But working where he does means that spending time here can’t be avoided, even if the atmosphere and people often make him feel like he’s of less worth. He tries to keep his head held high and there’s stiffness in the way he walks and talks and pretty much does everything here.
Insadong is the freedom he had always craved as a child, teenager and young adult. It’s comfortable in a way that helped him accept himself and be honest about who he was. And even then, no matter how much Insadong offered him, Minseok still found it hard to take the steps needed towards his dreams. Interior design, in truth, had been the coward’s way out. He’d always thought himself incapable of taking risks, so he had chosen practicality over desire. He went with something that would provide a steady income. And even though at first he spent that income on things that weren’t as important in the eyes of his parents, Minseok needed empty canvases and paint brushes to compensate for what he had deprived himself of. It made it a bit easier to lie to himself that way.
But he’s long gotten used to the fact that you have to be a realist to make it and utopias don’t exist. However, people never stop dreaming, so neither does he. Living with a ‘maybe someday’ for now is more than enough.
The building Luhan lives in proves that his wallet can’t be emptied. Minseok hopes he’s not a complete asshole like his last Apgujeong client was. Minseok has never looked forward to first meetings. More often than not he ends up disappointed.
Upon first glance Luhan isn’t completely what Minseok had expected him to be. He’s young, with reddish hair and an attractive face, but looks weirdly humble, tentative, expectant.
“I’m Luhan, it’s nice to meet you and before you look at it I’m sorry for the state of the apartment.”
“It’s okay.” Minseok’s never been judgmental and he doubts Luhan’s apartment is any worse than the one Minseok himself lives in. He’s always cared about other people’s living space much more than his own.
Luhan’s apartment is in no way a mess but it is sparsely decorated, if at all. If the mattress on the floor with printed words on paper covered with red pen count as decoration.
“So you pretty much don’t have anything here, do you?” Minseok asks.
“Not really.” Luhan sighs.
“Do you have any ideas or colours you prefer, things you like, have you looked through catalogues?”
“I’m honestly not used to making decisions like these on my own, so I’m clueless.” Luhan admits. And he does look the part, if Minseok were to judge that. It’s okay, though.
“I’m not really far from being a therapist too, so that’s something for you to keep in mind. Most of my clients are divorced and in their late thirties or early forties, if that’s something to go by.” Minseok likes interacting with people like this - on a more personal level. What you’ve been through says a lot about what you’d like and what you wouldn’t like in your home. Minseok tries to make everything personal. White walls and emptiness is not a home and most people don’t like having things reminding them of past pain, it’s what they’d come to get away from. Having a new home is like a rebirth, it’s a chance to start from nothing and turn it into what you yourself want to fit into.
“I just recently broke up with someone after a really long relationship. It’s not the easiest thing.” Minseok can tell. It’s written in the way Luhan is leaning against the kitchen counter as Minseok looks around. He looks uncomfortable and Minseok hopes it’s because of the coldness of the white walls and the fact that void of everything this room looks huge and Luhan feels small. It had taken Minseok some time to get used to not feeling that way in huge spaces that were also essentially his responsibility to make less frightening.
“I’ll make you feel better while we work on this, okay?” It’s a line he feeds to so many clients that it’s so carefully practiced it falls from his lips easier than anything ever. And Minseok is a coward for feeling comfortable only with this script he’s written for himself. Because that’s what he does - he makes everyone feel better, except himself.
February 23rd 2014
Minseok is in a daze of pretty colours and it’s a bit frightening how Luhan had given him no limitations except for the fact that he liked blue. It’s a jittery feeling to be given the creative freedom you so rightfully deserve, especially when you’re going through one of those incredibly long and drawn out moments of disliking your job so much. And Minseok’s been in a slump for so long. He’s sick of looking at the same catalogues that all share the picture of the same couch but in a different colour. And oh my friend Junhee has that exact same armchair, Mr. Kim, don’t you think that would look lovely here?
He’s sitting on an unmade bed with the light of his laptop screen illuminating the room. It’s to keep him focused, to keep his mind only on the task at hand. If it’s too bright he’d see only the crooked picture frame or Sehun’s clothes spilling out of the hamper.
In the rare nights he’s alone Minseok values his privacy. It’s a needed quiet without Sehun’s nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt carefully and slipping fingers past the waistband of his briefs. Being left alone is something vital for someone like Minseok. Sehun’s weaving webs too tight and restricting, although he knows not to want anything much back.
Sehun is young and expectant of amazing things. He’s too young to know that things are only as astounding as you make them and because to him everything is new, whether it be Minseok’s tongue down his throat or doing his laundry by himself for the first time, it’s all exciting. Minseok’s long past that if he ever experienced it at all. He doesn’t really recall anything astounding happening to him in his youth.
And now at the tender age of 27 he’s fucking a 20 year old boy and it’s something everyone would disapprove of were they to find out. According to the popular opinion of the masses, however so is homosexuality, and honestly Minseok has never really paid attention to the public opinion. He’s more than sure Sehun brags about him to his more open-minded friends, although Minseok is nothing short of the normal guy you mess around with. Age is a simple formality. He isn’t offering anything more to Sehun than he would offer to anyone else, younger or the same age as Minseok himself.
Minseok thinks of Luhan and the way his eyes carry a slight tiredness similar to Minseok’s own, how Sehun’s stare is void of that, how he’s bright and overeager. He thinks of other similarities between himself and Luhan and how they’re both so different from Sehun and his young mind and body.
March 2nd 2014
Luhan takes Minseok out for coffee to discuss things. It’s a nice cafe, with pots of flowers on the windowsills and small quaint tables scattered around. It’s lunchtime and bright outside, Minseok kind of likes it. Luhan’s smiling discreetly as he listens to Minseok talk about how the blues Luhan likes are a bit too cold and a bit too icy, how he needs warm colors to balance everything out. Yellows might look good and give the apartment a homier feel to it. Luhan nods along.
“I really like those clear vases with fake flowers in them or real flowers, doesn’t matter,” Luhan offers. ”Maybe we could paint the walls pale orange or yellow, blue could work too. Just not white.” White makes everything appear bigger than it actually is and blue might be frosty but to Luhan white is the coldest of all - it’s uncertain, it’s naked and too bright for his eyes. Even if he covers the walls with posters of his writers’ books, he’d still see the underlying white and how rough it is - how bold it is.
“That can be arranged,” Minseok says as he takes notes, his handwriting is neat, Luhan observes - a lot like his own. “I’ll bring you a book of color swatches the next time we meet, I’m sorry I don’t have it with me now.”
“It’s okay.” Luhan’s quick to reassure, he has all the time in the world and Minseok is just so pleasant to talk to - so calm and collected, so secretive in a way that he shows nothing of himself in the clothes he wears and items he carries with him. A plain black blazer, black trousers and a white button up shirt, a plain notebook with nothing interesting on the cover - it’s just navy. A completely boring pen he writes with. But maybe there’s little things like Luhan sees that Minseok’s ears are pierced and he dyes his hair - it’s a pretty auburn.
“Anything else you’d like to ask about or share?” Minseok asks - professional, having taken so many notes of what Luhan was blabbering on about, having asked about anything he could ask for. Truly invested in his job, responsible and poised - that’s a perfect way to describe Kim Minseok.
“Maybe if you’d like to we could talk about other things as well, not just the formal things. Just regular things? Maybe you could tell me things about yourself and I could too.” Luhan’s never been a shy person, but it’s been a while since he’s done this, taken an interest in someone based on first impressions and good observations. But a lot of new things have been happening, maybe his heart is mending, maybe it’s trying to continue its path on the way to recovery, by falling into someone else’s hands.
“Y-yeah, okay then.” This doesn’t usually happen. People spill their sorrows out for Minseok to hear but they never want anything back - they don’t want to know who he is and what he’s like. He’s a business card a friend passed, saying he’s a great decorator/designer, he’s a number in a phonebook and a profile on the company website. He’s mostly a portfolio of work done and not a face - he’s a question mark after the project is complete. And Minseok becomes invested, remembers every single face, can spot it in a crowd but when someone that has previously hired him passes him by there’s a recognition to a certain amount but exactly who he is - no one remembers. Luhan wants to.
March 12th 2014
Sehun’s just gotten back from a study date with one of the boys in his course. The word date doesn’t bother Minseok - not much and not at all. It brings him comfort in he were to be honest. When you’re nearing 30 and you only have so many good years left, you start to feel a bit, if not a lot, inadequate compared to saplings like Sehun. And sometimes, Minseok fears and wonders, if he’s robbing him of his youth, if he’s keeping him from greater things. He wonders if Sehun, had they not met, would be spending the wee hours of the night experiencing normal university life - going out with friends, having fun. It’s a bit like he’s keeping him locked up, like a bird in its tiny and beautiful cage. A beautiful bird, but one void of freedom nonetheless.
But Sehun is the one that comes to him, eyes tired and body pliant. He’s the one who begs and begs for more every time and it’s something Minseok can never quite wash off his skin. Sehun on his hands and knees, head sinking into the pillow, body tense and mouth working on its own accord spewing profanities. It looks so wrong compared to the soft pink on his lips and the tender look in his eyes and that’s a look he always carries. His heart is just as tender too, if not more so.
And Minseok is holding on for dear life and he’s digging his fingers so hard into Sehun’s hips that it’s painful for him to look at what he’s doing. The soft gasps that leave his mouth are those of a remorseful man. Not because Sehun is young and not because Sehun is a story unwritten past the second or third chapter, but because when Minseok’s eyes are closed it’s not Sehun he sees.
March 20th 2014
Talking to Minseok and listening to Minseok helps keep Luhan’s mind off things in the past. He’s yet to speak to Chanyeol after they separated for good but judging by what he’s been seeing on magazine stands when he walks by Chanyeol is doing fine. He’s immersed himself in work, much like Luhan himself. It could have been the fact that they were and still are too similar in wants, needs and plans, but not for the two of them together, but separately. Chanyeol values people, respects what they give him and what he can give them, but it’s a limited amount of what he can offer and wants to take for himself. He’s always been better alone, not with someone to hold his hand. Luhan’s always been a bit more sensitive - has always needed all of someone at the end of the day, has needed to hear someone else’s voice late at night talking to him, asking him things, holding him. He’s clingy, but to Chanyeol he was too familiar and love is exciting in the beginning, something to make you content in the middle and something you feel obligated to do in the end.
And Luhan has high expectations - lives in stories and scenarios he makes up in his head and what other people give him to read. But most novels don’t go past the point of the first exciting ‘I love you’ or the stage in which it’s meant sincerely. No one writes about what happens in 10 years time and marriages and love crumble. And Luhan gets that stories should be an escape sometimes, but they should also teach you that not everything is going to be okay and that not everything ends happily. He reads those kinds of books in his spare time and not for work but for himself, for his own little fragile heart to know it’s not the only one like that.
Minseok’s someone Luhan is starting to unfold carefully. Minseok is quiet and doesn’t ta
lk much unless asked about a certain thing. Luhan’s a nervous chatterbox, but Minseok listens and Luhan hopes it’s not only out of obligation. The work on the apartment is nearly finished and Luhan fears what happens after it’s complete, will Minseok only give him his card and tell Luhan to give any of his friends that are looking to hire someone his number.
It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff and either being pushed off or pulled back towards safety - Minseok’s got Luhan in a constant state of worry if he should hope or not. And despite what’s most logical and least painful Luhan thinks he could maybe really want this - the softness of Minseok’s lips against his own and Minseok’s hand to hold after work when he needs it. And it’s like Minseok always sits with his hands on the table as if they’re waiting to be held. It’s tempting but Luhan’s not ready to move forward yet.
March 22nd 2014
“I never thought choosing carpets could be this amusing.” Luhan laughs as Minseok leads him around the store, shows him things he finds funny and writes down possible options.
“I really like the kids’ section if I’m honest, but I wouldn’t get something like a Rilakkuma carpet for myself. Although I know people who would.” Minseok’s more talkative when they’re in places like these, surrounded by things he can hide behind as he speaks. He’s opening up, though, but it’s a slow process. Luhan would call him a friend, has asked him out for drinks outside of work-related things, but Minseok is always busy, Luhan wonders what occupies his evenings. Luhan wonders if Minseok has someone, but he’s never asked and Minseok has never mentioned.
“Do you think this would look good, Minseok?” Luhan asks, pointing at a simple pale blue carpet, it looks nice.
“You’re getting better at this, I’m impressed.” Minseok’s smile is small, but it’s lovely. It’s not the smile people give you at grocery stores when they tell you to have a nice day, it’s the smile someone gives you when they feel like they can show more of themselves - it’s a smile that’s not there because it should be, but because it’s a wonderful reaction Minseok might not be too conscious of. Luhan likes it.
March 22nd 2014
Minseok’s smile remains for the rest of the day, it’s so unusual that Zitao asks about it, about what’s making him happy. Minseok doesn’t reply. He’s not ready to admit to himself that he wants something that goes beyond pushing someone against a wall and then running away once the deed is done. Minseok wants more than Sehun and Sehun does too. Minseok often finds Sehun smiling too and not the friendly smile he has around Minseok.
It’s becoming unnecessary for both of them, but it’s a game of who will say something about it first. Minseok’s always been too considerate of people’s feelings, tries to wait and not be too sure of Luhan. All of Minseok’s romantic and not romantic relationships hadn’t been initiated by him. Minseok’s the kind to wait for confirmation from the other person before spilling his feelings, he always waits to know if it’s safe to say what he thinks. And when there’s that mutual agreement that they’re together or seeing each other in a non-romantic way that’s when he takes things into his own hands. He’s eager to set dates and make homecooked meals and give himself in every way possible, but that comes with disappointment and it’s hard to let go of it. Sehun had been a daily pill that had healed some wounds but physical intimacy is so different from emotional intimacy.
Physical intimacy only warms you up for a moment and then leaves you cold in a pool of dislike directed at yourself and the one that hurt you. It’s like getting your daily fix and then hating yourself for it, it feels wrong, feels animalistic and forced - only to satisfy your body, but your heart’s left hungry, left to starve until it can be granted something for it to feed on. Emotional intimacy is the warmth you feel when that familiar face pops into you head, when you feel his fingers tracing up your spine you’re set on fire and it’s a wonderful feeling, one that lingers until the next time. Minseok wants to know what Luhan’s hands feel like and if his kisses can set fire to his skin like Minseok wants them to.
March 25th 2014
Sehun comes to Minseok’s office at lunchtime, says it’s urgent they go out for coffee. Minseok complies, feeling like he’s going to fall asleep at his desk. But scolds Sehun nonetheless, he’s not allowed here. The looks Minseok gets from his colleagues are as suspicious as it can get, but Minseok’s not close to any of them, not even on a first name basis and they’ve been working together for more than three years.
There’s an awkward silence in the elevator because Sehun is nervous, Minseok can tell. He’s tapping his foot and only does that when he’s impatient. Before Minseok can say anything he’s dragged to the nearest café and Sehun’s ordered for them both already, knowing what Minseok likes from all those early morning coffee runs.
“I want this to stop,” Sehun blurts out in a moment of courage, but that’s how he usually is - doesn’t say much, but when he does it’s to the point.
“That’s okay.” Minseok’s quick to answer, feeling relieved if he’s honest.
“I-I think I’m… No, I am in love with someone,” Sehun says maybe a bit too loudly just as the waitress brings them their orders.
“I’m very happy for you, Sehun.”
“Really?” Sehun looks surprised, as if Minseok hasn’t been showing signs of wanting to let him go.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” It’s only out of being slightly protective of Sehun that he asks. Minseok would say Sehun deserves happiness, deserves to live through his twenties with a smile on his face and people good for him around him, people that will push him forward and not keep him one step behind like Minseok’s been feeling like he’s doing.
“He’s in my year. He’s amazing, really good for me. His-um-his name’s Jongin.” Sehun’s a little nervous as he shared that little bit of information and Minseok doesn’t know who Jongin is, but Sehun’s picky when it comes to people, Minseok found out he barely passed the test Sehun sets for people he considers keeping in his life. He’s both glad and sorry he did.
“I’m happy for you,” Minseok admits again.
“I’m happy too, but this doesn’t mean I’m throwing you away as a friend, you know that.”
“I know.”
March 27th 2014
The finishing touches are in place as Luhan fixes a picture frame, saying it looks a bit crooked. The living room looks cozy just as Luhan had wanted it to look and he’s grateful to have a space that doesn’t feel as cold when he’s alone.
“So I’ve called up some friends and I’m having a housewarming party tomorrow. It’s nothing big, but I would really like you to come, you should feel obligated to come because this is all you. And it couldn’t have become this without you.”
Minseok’s heart swells as he listens to Luhan talk about him that way and it doesn’t sound like a simple thanks, it’s a bit more than that, Minseok hopes he’s not deluding himself and Luhan’s hand on his shoulder isn’t as gentle only because Luhan is careful, but because he wants Minseok to know something - something important.
“Of course I’ll be here.” There’s fire dancing in Luhan’s eyes, his lips upturning in a warm smile and he fits here among all the blues and the peonies in the yellow vase on the coffee table. The apartment is a reflection of Luhan himself - all from the blanket folded on the couch where Minseok knows Luhan falls asleep after a night of too many pages to read. Minseok sees Luhan in the colors of the covers of books in his bookself and the orange notebook he keeps on the kitchen table - the one he writes additional notes for his authors in, the one with too many pages ripped out. And he sees the way Luhan looks at him too, like he sees Minseok falling asleep on the couch beside him, like he sees him eating breakfast at that kitchen table they so carefully picked out.
March 28th 2014
Minseok’s never really been partial to spring but it’s undeniably better than the harsh winter nights, spent bundled up in too much wool and heavy blankets. Spring is known as the time of rebirth, or so Zitao says in one of his not so rare moments of wisdom. Minseok would like to believe that all things outside of the blossoming flowers and sunny afternoons, the spring rain and lingering uncertainty of the slight leftover cold of winter, is only in passing towards summer and hopefully better times. Nature is inspiring in a way that can’t really be explained too thoroughly, although Minseok tries. It’s a fact that the times of year change people as well and once the gloom has left and the sun is up constantly it’s without a doubt that the smiles he receives and gives are more frequent. And he desperately tries to mimic the sincerity of Zitao’s grin, but it’s still not as well practiced. It’s not enough to convince that Minseok is doing well. He’s better, but not well enough and that will always stick with him, along with the realisation that winter will come again - bad times will come again. It’s a universal truth.
But it’s as the rain pats gently on his window, painting images of springtime love and promise and signing lullabies of early morning drizzle, it’s as images of Luhan pop up into his head, telling of alternate universes and unfinished stories. But mostly it’s in the moments when Minseok feels like he can open up his heart a bit. That’s when the feeling of regret starts to slowly fade away and that’s when the air he breathes is light and refreshing. No tension and no questions of the past. Minseok feels like he can look forward to the future while still carrying the weariness of yesterday and the day before. And despite the changing of the seasons, despite the fact that winter will inevitably come once again, Minseok tries to appreciate the warmth of now and the promise of summer in his heart - the possibility of sitting next to Luhan in the spring, summer and even freezing winter.
March 28th 2014
When Minseok gets to Luhan’s party he doesn’t expect there to be so many people occupying the rooms. There’s everything from people in expensive suits to a guy wearing a purple cardigan sitting on the kitchen counter drinking a beer. Minseok looks around, tries to pass by people without disrupting their conversations, he doesn’t know any of them so they don’t pay him much mind.
Luhan’s out on the balcony, drinking what looks like whiskey and Minseok wonders why he’s secluded himself like this, written himself off as an outsider at his own party. Luhan’s always seemed a bit strange in some ways. He’s easy to talk to, social, but keeps parts of himself closed off and doesn’t talk to anyone when he doesn’t feel he has anything of substance to say. They’ve spent afternoons at coffee shops with Luhan reading and Minseok looking through catalogues and marking things he finds of use and stylish. Those were days they barely spoke a word, but the silence is always comfortable with Luhan when it’s present. Minseok has never minded the quiet.
“Did it get too noisy in there for you too?” Luhan asks.
“No, not really. I couldn’t find you.” Minseok’s honest, tries to drop hints, tries to show he wants something for not only himself but the both of them. He sees the way they click. When you can sit for hours and find that the quiet of the other person never bothers you, when you can speak with your eyes and your gestures, when you know each other’s coffee orders and have shared things just on the verge of being very personal - that’s when a new thing is valuable. Minseok had said he’d make Luhan feel better at the start, he likes to flatter himself and believe he’s contributed in one way or another.
“I thought you weren’t coming, to be honest. It made me a bit sad.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. Just needed a few more hours at the office. Not everyone is as nice a client as you are.” It’s the sincerest form of flattery Minseok can muster. He’s a bit vague in his words, more sure of his actions than what’s coming out of his mouth.
“Can I share something with you, Minseok?” Luhan takes a sip, looks like he’s trying to piece himself together, straightening out his posture.
“Go ahead.” Minseok’s holding his breath - expectant, worried, afraid of what’s to come.
“I’m not nice just because it’s the way I am, not towards you at least. I’m a bit pathetic thinking I have a chance with you.” Looking down at his shoes, Luhan looks uncertain. With his right hand holding onto the balcony’s railing, holding on so tightly his knuckles are going white. Minseok’s astounded.
“No.” It’s quiet among the noise coming from inside the apartment and the cars on the streets and people talking or shouting at each other down bellow, but Luhan’s got sharp ears he hears it. The look in his eyes and the slight frown of his lips asks all the questions.
“You have all the chances with me.” Minseok’s quick to take hold of Luhan’s shaking hand, sees Luhan’s bottom lip trembling in the most vulnerable way possible. He’s truly beautiful with all his emotions spilling out of his eyes. Luhan’s grip is strong, he holds on so tightly and Minseok makes sure to return the same, to make sure it’s what he meant, what should happen. It’s not a confession by the Han River or a bouquet and chocolates on Valentine’s Day. It’s raw human emotion passing through their bodies, connecting at their fingertips - it’s a spark that ignites the flame. Minseok’s hand is warm and Luhan’s palm is sweaty, but those aren’t important things. The way Minseok’s heart is beating, the way Luhan’s looking at him - so intense and full of hope, that’s what’s important. That is what Minseok would like to keep.
Author: yeolxing
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/s: Minseok/Luhan, past!Luhan/Chanyeol, Sehun/Minseok
Length ~8700
Summary: At a time of uncertainty in his life Luhan finds Kim Minseok and learns to crave the pressure of his fingertips against his skin.
A/N: written for the 2014 round of soccerncoffee
February 13th 2014
Looking around the now empty apartment, the now not-theirs-anymore apartment, the space where the couch used to be - the couch Chanyeol fucked him into night after night, is like a slap to the face and a big fuck you in bright red, block font, bold letters. By the look on Chanyeol’s face Luhan can tell that he’s having similar thoughts. Saying goodbye and never again to such a huge chunk of your life isn’t easy or painless by any means. They’ve been, or rather had been together, for too many years for the spark to still remain and to ignite whatever passion was left. Chanyeol’s smile is sad, and bittersweet in a way, and despite how Luhan thinks that it’s not the time to be smiling, he smiles too. He’s always been the stronger one mentally of them both and if he shows a moment of weakness Chanyeol’s true feelings might seep out through the fake smiles. So Luhan puts up the brave front and hopes that one day the tension won’t be there.
Five years is a long time to be together before inevitably falling apart, but seven years of friendship is even longer. But, Luhan wonders, does keeping track of months upon months of being together really matter, if all of it is stashed away in a folder labelled ‘do not open until you are stronger’? What’s the distance between two people and two hearts that have no idea how to fend for themselves without feeling like they’re missing a limb?
This is it, huh?” Chanyeol asks. There’s no question of ‘Are you alright?’ and no ‘I’ll miss you’ to follow. It’s not needed. They had the teary goodbyes already and the recollections of their ups and downs and sentimentality isn’t going to change anything right now. They’re doing this for each other, for the better, to be able to go back to friendship someday because romance apparently wasn’t the right path.
“Yeah, I guess.” Luhan tries for a smile but comes up short. This is what it feels like to be missing a limb, to be missing a vital part of you that you’ve never been without for as long as you can remember. This is what is feels like to want to pick yourself up but not knowing how without having someone else to hold you up.
February 13th 2014
Mornings are always tough when Minseok has 183 centimeters of adolescent boy wrapped around him, long legs and arms encasing his body. Sehun’s got him in a chokehold and despite agreements and rules they’ve always done this. It’s more out of comfort rather than out of love. Sehun’s just a kid suffering from the consequences of unrequited love and a shitload of other issues to accompany it. It’s only a matter of time before he can walk steady on his own two feet without Minseok having to hold him up. When you’re young, you suffer from the unnecessarily painful things in life, which later on prove to be completely necessary. But Sehun doesn’t know that yet and Minseok doesn’t want to ruin the amazing feeling of relief that comes with finding out that heartbreak is for the better and some things don’t fall together just because they’re really not supposed to and wouldn’t really work out in the long run.
Sehun turns in his sleep and presses a wet kiss to Minseok’s bare chest in the process. He’s waking up slowly but surely. He looks the youngest between sleep and consciousness. The sunlight streams in through the curtains to paint him in different shades of blues and pinks, his hair sticking out in all possible directions and cheek red from where it had been pressing into the pillow all night long.
“Hey.” Sehun croaks. “You okay?” Sehun tends to catch onto Minseok’s weird moods. They’ve been at this long enough to be aware of what’s happening and why Minseok is being so quiet. Not that he usually isn’t. But this quietness is different in a very distinct way. There’s no ‘Good morning’ or ‘Did you sleep well?’.
“Yeah, I guess.” It’s a state between being conscious of your actions and unconscious of the consequences and Minseok constantly lives in this indecisiveness, has been living in it so long that it’s become his permanent state of being. It’s hazy and makes him aware of how unsatisfying everything is until the last drop of daylight bleeds out, sleep follows and then a morning just like this one comes.
February 14th 2014
The new apartment is sterile in its unlived in state. Luhan feels like a stranger to concrete walls, envious of how unyielding they are. Stability is what everyone craves and no matter how adventurous and go-with-the-flow you are, you’re most likely going to desperately try to cling to every bit of stability you can find at some point.
For Luhan that time is now. Everything is unfamiliar and completely new, and his to mark as something important. He wants the best possible. In his current state of weakness, he’s more likely to call Chanyeol, to ask if he’s up for helping Luhan move in. All in exchange for sex and alcohol and the glorious morning after. If he’s lucky.
But that’s all in the past when all Luhan had was two boxes and a mattress. Now he has a lot of money to his name. He likes to think he deserves a little luxury. Right now he doesn’t even have a mattress but hotels are sad and lonely and much more uncomfortable than sleeping on the floor ever will be. This is his space and not space hundreds upon hundreds of bodies had occupied in various states of undress.
This is all his and his alone. And that should make him feel a bit better but once the word ‘alone’ comes to mind, all Luhan can think of is Chanyeol and how not too long ago he wasn’t alone like he is now. In more ways than one.
February 14th 2014
Pretty wallpaper decorates the walls in intricate patterns. Minseok tries to trace endless swirls with his fingers. It’s gentle just like how he touches Sehun - with utmost care and a lingering fear of being too rough. He hopes Sehun doesn’t read too much into it. It’s not romance - it’s therapy. It’s support and friendship presented in the wrong way. It’s something that benefits both of them, takes away the loneliness if even for a mere moment. Gold patterns litter the walls and Minseok is enamoured in a way he rarely is. It’s an interesting beauty that he doubts most people that come here notice. There’s guilt felt when he comes to the conclusion that inanimate objects and intricate patterns bring him more joy than living breathing things.
Sehun stares up at him. Stars in his eyes and gratitude waiting to fall from his lips. Minseok fears words. They cut deeply in ways you’d never think they could. Praises falling from Sehun’s lips are sometimes so hollow that Minseok wonders if it’s because they’re falling on deaf ears or because Sehun himself is too exhausted to try and seem convincing. It’s all a game of true or false when nothing is neither one, nor the other, but always something in between.
February 18th 2014
Every sound bounces off the walls considering the only things he currently owns are boxes upon boxes of clothes and a mattress bought two days ago. Everything he and Chanyeol had - the coffee machine, the fridge with all the magnets on it (though the magnets are probably stashed away somewhere in Chanyeol’s things), the microwave, they’ve left to Baekhyun and Jongdae in hopes that their life together won’t start to crumble in the near future.
Luhan’s been living off takeout and lonely walks to coffee shops all while avoiding places he and Chanyeol used to go to. He’s not ready to get bombarded with memories and the daily dose of heartache injected into his cardiovascular muscle. When everything is something that holds sentimental value to you, you end up with nothing and nothing ends up with you. It’s a quiet friendship. In which Luhan often feels the urge to scream but doesn’t because the sound will just come back at him full on and cut him open. His mother used to tell him feelings were meant to be expressed and that bottling them up hurts you both emotionally and physically. And that’s a logical thing to say and maybe there would be a possibility of Luhan considering letting the emotions out in any shape or form - be it written or verbal. But his mother never did follow her own advice and never really opened her heart to Luhan. At least not after she fou nd out.
It’s strange when your mind is overflowing with thoughts and you’re in a space so empty, walls so white and bare, and floor so cold, when the smell of paint still lingers in the air. You almost envy it. The room is like that because everyone has the opportunity to make it their own - to paint over the white and hang up photos and fill shelves with the proof of a moment shared together. Luhan carries too much baggage to ever feel as light. He carries multiple suitcases that he can hardly even lift off the ground. They’re all labelled and the heaviest ones are those that drag him down like a rock tied to his ankle. He fears he might drown. But he wants to let it go and let it sink to the depths of the ocean. So he tries to move on. He’s strong enough to. Resilient enough.
Living in the past and thinking of old coffee makers and Chanyeol’s socks that had holes in them when they were still in university are things he wants to leave there - in the past. Just the details and the feelings. Although someday maybe he and Chanyeol will be able to communicate without the conversation revolving around work or a pointless ‘how have you been’. Because romantic love is something special and unique, but the love and support of Chanyeol as a friend is what Luhan wants to gain back someday.
That’s when he takes the first step. He calls the number his secretary had given him. She had said that freshening up his new apartment would maybe make him feel less lonesome. Apparently interior designers are usually talkative folk with a knack for curing your personal woes. He’s too desperate not to believe that. When everything that you’ve gotten used to in the past years gets taken away you have to rebuild your safe place - your home and your heart.
February 18th 2014
Despite most people’s beliefs Mondays aren’t the worst work days. For Minseok that’s always been Tuesdays. Mondays are more of an optimistic beginning. You show up to work and expect new things to come your way and a bit of excitement over a new job to make you feel needed and appreciated. Especially when people refer to you as being good at your job and someone who they trust with their most sacred place - home.
But reality is crushing and people are boring - even the ones Minseok has high hopes for and expectations about. The budget people set is never the thing that puts him off, because money is a tricky thing. It makes you think you have more, but then you realise you don’t have enough. So people save it for a rainy day and Minseok works with what he’s given.
Not all people are like that. There are also those that splurge and set a bar higher than Minseok would ever set for himself, and in those moments he wonders how does one spend all that money and not end up with kitsch and clutter. He tries to work with what he’s given then as well.
He’ll try to do that now. Mr. Lu is apparently a man whose wallet cannot be emptied no matter how hard you try. Minseok’s colleagues refer to him as ‘the rich guy that craps diamonds’ or if they’re not being too horrible - ‘the money tree man’. In truth, both seem accurate as far as first impressions go.
He had seemed pleasant over the phone or so Zitao had said. Minseok hopes for the best because he usually has a hard time dealing with the wealthy eccentric types, which in most cases are also egocentric. But Zitao is a good judge of character, so Minseok has no excuse not to trust his opinions.
February 21st 2014
Luhan agrees to meet Kim Minseok today on Friday. His assistant/intern had said he would need Saturday and Sunday to brainstorm.
Luhan has no idea what Kim Minseok is like, hasn’t bothered to check. However, he’s sure he can breathe some life into these walls and fill the rooms with something better than boxes full of whatever all over the floor. And Luhan despite his status of someone from the upperclass, doesn’t really care for fashion and what’s trendy. That had always been Chanyeol’s concern.
Luhan had always been the insightful of the two, but maybe that’s what work had turned him into. Chanyeol had been warm, but oftentimes he wouldn’t be able to see his faults, not really believing he had any sometimes. And that’s what work had turned him into too.
Luhan supposes that spending Friday nights reading manuscripts and immersing himself in new worlds had made him more or less someone who could not actively take part in Chanyeol’s world. And Chanyeol, despite his aspirations when they were both younger, had dived headfirst into an industry that would mould him into a shape of himself that Luhan would eventually find a bit disappointing. He had tried to suppress that thought, but it had pushed and pushed until it was all Luhan ever thought of - how they were so different and how they had gotten that way.
Chanyeol spent Friday nights with people that made Luhan feel inadequate. And that was when they had begun to falter. Because the things dividing them had started multiplying and the worry that Chanyeol would find someone better, someone that didn’t have scars along his legs because of playing soccer, someone with the pretty boy personality to go with his pretty face, had taken over Luhan’s thoughts. Chanyeol never did, though. But Luhan saw it in the ways he dealt with his models - attractive young boys with hopeful smiles, long legs and boyish charms. It was an ever-present fear.
In truth this apartment was an avid representation of what Luhan’s heart was now - empty. Chanyeol had made a home in it so many years ago, he had moved in and made himself comfortable and every pump of blood into Luhan’s heart had been for Chanyeol. But he had moved away. There was no one to occupy the space now. It’s time to look for a new tenant. And Luhan briefly wonders what he’d write for an ad, if normal humans functioned that way.
Room type: Single room
Accommodates: 1
Monthly Price: Free of Charge
P.S. I’m sorry it’s in poor condition but I hope you can help it heal.
February 21st 2014
It’s cold today and Minseok is grateful for the coffee Zitao brought him. But it’s not enough to protect him from the early morning chill.
Minseok often finds himself in Apgujeong, despite his dislike of it. He’s used to Insadong and Apgujeong is intimidating in comparison. But working where he does means that spending time here can’t be avoided, even if the atmosphere and people often make him feel like he’s of less worth. He tries to keep his head held high and there’s stiffness in the way he walks and talks and pretty much does everything here.
Insadong is the freedom he had always craved as a child, teenager and young adult. It’s comfortable in a way that helped him accept himself and be honest about who he was. And even then, no matter how much Insadong offered him, Minseok still found it hard to take the steps needed towards his dreams. Interior design, in truth, had been the coward’s way out. He’d always thought himself incapable of taking risks, so he had chosen practicality over desire. He went with something that would provide a steady income. And even though at first he spent that income on things that weren’t as important in the eyes of his parents, Minseok needed empty canvases and paint brushes to compensate for what he had deprived himself of. It made it a bit easier to lie to himself that way.
But he’s long gotten used to the fact that you have to be a realist to make it and utopias don’t exist. However, people never stop dreaming, so neither does he. Living with a ‘maybe someday’ for now is more than enough.
The building Luhan lives in proves that his wallet can’t be emptied. Minseok hopes he’s not a complete asshole like his last Apgujeong client was. Minseok has never looked forward to first meetings. More often than not he ends up disappointed.
Upon first glance Luhan isn’t completely what Minseok had expected him to be. He’s young, with reddish hair and an attractive face, but looks weirdly humble, tentative, expectant.
“I’m Luhan, it’s nice to meet you and before you look at it I’m sorry for the state of the apartment.”
“It’s okay.” Minseok’s never been judgmental and he doubts Luhan’s apartment is any worse than the one Minseok himself lives in. He’s always cared about other people’s living space much more than his own.
Luhan’s apartment is in no way a mess but it is sparsely decorated, if at all. If the mattress on the floor with printed words on paper covered with red pen count as decoration.
“So you pretty much don’t have anything here, do you?” Minseok asks.
“Not really.” Luhan sighs.
“Do you have any ideas or colours you prefer, things you like, have you looked through catalogues?”
“I’m honestly not used to making decisions like these on my own, so I’m clueless.” Luhan admits. And he does look the part, if Minseok were to judge that. It’s okay, though.
“I’m not really far from being a therapist too, so that’s something for you to keep in mind. Most of my clients are divorced and in their late thirties or early forties, if that’s something to go by.” Minseok likes interacting with people like this - on a more personal level. What you’ve been through says a lot about what you’d like and what you wouldn’t like in your home. Minseok tries to make everything personal. White walls and emptiness is not a home and most people don’t like having things reminding them of past pain, it’s what they’d come to get away from. Having a new home is like a rebirth, it’s a chance to start from nothing and turn it into what you yourself want to fit into.
“I just recently broke up with someone after a really long relationship. It’s not the easiest thing.” Minseok can tell. It’s written in the way Luhan is leaning against the kitchen counter as Minseok looks around. He looks uncomfortable and Minseok hopes it’s because of the coldness of the white walls and the fact that void of everything this room looks huge and Luhan feels small. It had taken Minseok some time to get used to not feeling that way in huge spaces that were also essentially his responsibility to make less frightening.
“I’ll make you feel better while we work on this, okay?” It’s a line he feeds to so many clients that it’s so carefully practiced it falls from his lips easier than anything ever. And Minseok is a coward for feeling comfortable only with this script he’s written for himself. Because that’s what he does - he makes everyone feel better, except himself.
February 23rd 2014
Minseok is in a daze of pretty colours and it’s a bit frightening how Luhan had given him no limitations except for the fact that he liked blue. It’s a jittery feeling to be given the creative freedom you so rightfully deserve, especially when you’re going through one of those incredibly long and drawn out moments of disliking your job so much. And Minseok’s been in a slump for so long. He’s sick of looking at the same catalogues that all share the picture of the same couch but in a different colour. And oh my friend Junhee has that exact same armchair, Mr. Kim, don’t you think that would look lovely here?
He’s sitting on an unmade bed with the light of his laptop screen illuminating the room. It’s to keep him focused, to keep his mind only on the task at hand. If it’s too bright he’d see only the crooked picture frame or Sehun’s clothes spilling out of the hamper.
In the rare nights he’s alone Minseok values his privacy. It’s a needed quiet without Sehun’s nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt carefully and slipping fingers past the waistband of his briefs. Being left alone is something vital for someone like Minseok. Sehun’s weaving webs too tight and restricting, although he knows not to want anything much back.
Sehun is young and expectant of amazing things. He’s too young to know that things are only as astounding as you make them and because to him everything is new, whether it be Minseok’s tongue down his throat or doing his laundry by himself for the first time, it’s all exciting. Minseok’s long past that if he ever experienced it at all. He doesn’t really recall anything astounding happening to him in his youth.
And now at the tender age of 27 he’s fucking a 20 year old boy and it’s something everyone would disapprove of were they to find out. According to the popular opinion of the masses, however so is homosexuality, and honestly Minseok has never really paid attention to the public opinion. He’s more than sure Sehun brags about him to his more open-minded friends, although Minseok is nothing short of the normal guy you mess around with. Age is a simple formality. He isn’t offering anything more to Sehun than he would offer to anyone else, younger or the same age as Minseok himself.
Minseok thinks of Luhan and the way his eyes carry a slight tiredness similar to Minseok’s own, how Sehun’s stare is void of that, how he’s bright and overeager. He thinks of other similarities between himself and Luhan and how they’re both so different from Sehun and his young mind and body.
March 2nd 2014
Luhan takes Minseok out for coffee to discuss things. It’s a nice cafe, with pots of flowers on the windowsills and small quaint tables scattered around. It’s lunchtime and bright outside, Minseok kind of likes it. Luhan’s smiling discreetly as he listens to Minseok talk about how the blues Luhan likes are a bit too cold and a bit too icy, how he needs warm colors to balance everything out. Yellows might look good and give the apartment a homier feel to it. Luhan nods along.
“I really like those clear vases with fake flowers in them or real flowers, doesn’t matter,” Luhan offers. ”Maybe we could paint the walls pale orange or yellow, blue could work too. Just not white.” White makes everything appear bigger than it actually is and blue might be frosty but to Luhan white is the coldest of all - it’s uncertain, it’s naked and too bright for his eyes. Even if he covers the walls with posters of his writers’ books, he’d still see the underlying white and how rough it is - how bold it is.
“That can be arranged,” Minseok says as he takes notes, his handwriting is neat, Luhan observes - a lot like his own. “I’ll bring you a book of color swatches the next time we meet, I’m sorry I don’t have it with me now.”
“It’s okay.” Luhan’s quick to reassure, he has all the time in the world and Minseok is just so pleasant to talk to - so calm and collected, so secretive in a way that he shows nothing of himself in the clothes he wears and items he carries with him. A plain black blazer, black trousers and a white button up shirt, a plain notebook with nothing interesting on the cover - it’s just navy. A completely boring pen he writes with. But maybe there’s little things like Luhan sees that Minseok’s ears are pierced and he dyes his hair - it’s a pretty auburn.
“Anything else you’d like to ask about or share?” Minseok asks - professional, having taken so many notes of what Luhan was blabbering on about, having asked about anything he could ask for. Truly invested in his job, responsible and poised - that’s a perfect way to describe Kim Minseok.
“Maybe if you’d like to we could talk about other things as well, not just the formal things. Just regular things? Maybe you could tell me things about yourself and I could too.” Luhan’s never been a shy person, but it’s been a while since he’s done this, taken an interest in someone based on first impressions and good observations. But a lot of new things have been happening, maybe his heart is mending, maybe it’s trying to continue its path on the way to recovery, by falling into someone else’s hands.
“Y-yeah, okay then.” This doesn’t usually happen. People spill their sorrows out for Minseok to hear but they never want anything back - they don’t want to know who he is and what he’s like. He’s a business card a friend passed, saying he’s a great decorator/designer, he’s a number in a phonebook and a profile on the company website. He’s mostly a portfolio of work done and not a face - he’s a question mark after the project is complete. And Minseok becomes invested, remembers every single face, can spot it in a crowd but when someone that has previously hired him passes him by there’s a recognition to a certain amount but exactly who he is - no one remembers. Luhan wants to.
March 12th 2014
Sehun’s just gotten back from a study date with one of the boys in his course. The word date doesn’t bother Minseok - not much and not at all. It brings him comfort in he were to be honest. When you’re nearing 30 and you only have so many good years left, you start to feel a bit, if not a lot, inadequate compared to saplings like Sehun. And sometimes, Minseok fears and wonders, if he’s robbing him of his youth, if he’s keeping him from greater things. He wonders if Sehun, had they not met, would be spending the wee hours of the night experiencing normal university life - going out with friends, having fun. It’s a bit like he’s keeping him locked up, like a bird in its tiny and beautiful cage. A beautiful bird, but one void of freedom nonetheless.
But Sehun is the one that comes to him, eyes tired and body pliant. He’s the one who begs and begs for more every time and it’s something Minseok can never quite wash off his skin. Sehun on his hands and knees, head sinking into the pillow, body tense and mouth working on its own accord spewing profanities. It looks so wrong compared to the soft pink on his lips and the tender look in his eyes and that’s a look he always carries. His heart is just as tender too, if not more so.
And Minseok is holding on for dear life and he’s digging his fingers so hard into Sehun’s hips that it’s painful for him to look at what he’s doing. The soft gasps that leave his mouth are those of a remorseful man. Not because Sehun is young and not because Sehun is a story unwritten past the second or third chapter, but because when Minseok’s eyes are closed it’s not Sehun he sees.
March 20th 2014
Talking to Minseok and listening to Minseok helps keep Luhan’s mind off things in the past. He’s yet to speak to Chanyeol after they separated for good but judging by what he’s been seeing on magazine stands when he walks by Chanyeol is doing fine. He’s immersed himself in work, much like Luhan himself. It could have been the fact that they were and still are too similar in wants, needs and plans, but not for the two of them together, but separately. Chanyeol values people, respects what they give him and what he can give them, but it’s a limited amount of what he can offer and wants to take for himself. He’s always been better alone, not with someone to hold his hand. Luhan’s always been a bit more sensitive - has always needed all of someone at the end of the day, has needed to hear someone else’s voice late at night talking to him, asking him things, holding him. He’s clingy, but to Chanyeol he was too familiar and love is exciting in the beginning, something to make you content in the middle and something you feel obligated to do in the end.
And Luhan has high expectations - lives in stories and scenarios he makes up in his head and what other people give him to read. But most novels don’t go past the point of the first exciting ‘I love you’ or the stage in which it’s meant sincerely. No one writes about what happens in 10 years time and marriages and love crumble. And Luhan gets that stories should be an escape sometimes, but they should also teach you that not everything is going to be okay and that not everything ends happily. He reads those kinds of books in his spare time and not for work but for himself, for his own little fragile heart to know it’s not the only one like that.
Minseok’s someone Luhan is starting to unfold carefully. Minseok is quiet and doesn’t ta
lk much unless asked about a certain thing. Luhan’s a nervous chatterbox, but Minseok listens and Luhan hopes it’s not only out of obligation. The work on the apartment is nearly finished and Luhan fears what happens after it’s complete, will Minseok only give him his card and tell Luhan to give any of his friends that are looking to hire someone his number.
It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff and either being pushed off or pulled back towards safety - Minseok’s got Luhan in a constant state of worry if he should hope or not. And despite what’s most logical and least painful Luhan thinks he could maybe really want this - the softness of Minseok’s lips against his own and Minseok’s hand to hold after work when he needs it. And it’s like Minseok always sits with his hands on the table as if they’re waiting to be held. It’s tempting but Luhan’s not ready to move forward yet.
March 22nd 2014
“I never thought choosing carpets could be this amusing.” Luhan laughs as Minseok leads him around the store, shows him things he finds funny and writes down possible options.
“I really like the kids’ section if I’m honest, but I wouldn’t get something like a Rilakkuma carpet for myself. Although I know people who would.” Minseok’s more talkative when they’re in places like these, surrounded by things he can hide behind as he speaks. He’s opening up, though, but it’s a slow process. Luhan would call him a friend, has asked him out for drinks outside of work-related things, but Minseok is always busy, Luhan wonders what occupies his evenings. Luhan wonders if Minseok has someone, but he’s never asked and Minseok has never mentioned.
“Do you think this would look good, Minseok?” Luhan asks, pointing at a simple pale blue carpet, it looks nice.
“You’re getting better at this, I’m impressed.” Minseok’s smile is small, but it’s lovely. It’s not the smile people give you at grocery stores when they tell you to have a nice day, it’s the smile someone gives you when they feel like they can show more of themselves - it’s a smile that’s not there because it should be, but because it’s a wonderful reaction Minseok might not be too conscious of. Luhan likes it.
March 22nd 2014
Minseok’s smile remains for the rest of the day, it’s so unusual that Zitao asks about it, about what’s making him happy. Minseok doesn’t reply. He’s not ready to admit to himself that he wants something that goes beyond pushing someone against a wall and then running away once the deed is done. Minseok wants more than Sehun and Sehun does too. Minseok often finds Sehun smiling too and not the friendly smile he has around Minseok.
It’s becoming unnecessary for both of them, but it’s a game of who will say something about it first. Minseok’s always been too considerate of people’s feelings, tries to wait and not be too sure of Luhan. All of Minseok’s romantic and not romantic relationships hadn’t been initiated by him. Minseok’s the kind to wait for confirmation from the other person before spilling his feelings, he always waits to know if it’s safe to say what he thinks. And when there’s that mutual agreement that they’re together or seeing each other in a non-romantic way that’s when he takes things into his own hands. He’s eager to set dates and make homecooked meals and give himself in every way possible, but that comes with disappointment and it’s hard to let go of it. Sehun had been a daily pill that had healed some wounds but physical intimacy is so different from emotional intimacy.
Physical intimacy only warms you up for a moment and then leaves you cold in a pool of dislike directed at yourself and the one that hurt you. It’s like getting your daily fix and then hating yourself for it, it feels wrong, feels animalistic and forced - only to satisfy your body, but your heart’s left hungry, left to starve until it can be granted something for it to feed on. Emotional intimacy is the warmth you feel when that familiar face pops into you head, when you feel his fingers tracing up your spine you’re set on fire and it’s a wonderful feeling, one that lingers until the next time. Minseok wants to know what Luhan’s hands feel like and if his kisses can set fire to his skin like Minseok wants them to.
March 25th 2014
Sehun comes to Minseok’s office at lunchtime, says it’s urgent they go out for coffee. Minseok complies, feeling like he’s going to fall asleep at his desk. But scolds Sehun nonetheless, he’s not allowed here. The looks Minseok gets from his colleagues are as suspicious as it can get, but Minseok’s not close to any of them, not even on a first name basis and they’ve been working together for more than three years.
There’s an awkward silence in the elevator because Sehun is nervous, Minseok can tell. He’s tapping his foot and only does that when he’s impatient. Before Minseok can say anything he’s dragged to the nearest café and Sehun’s ordered for them both already, knowing what Minseok likes from all those early morning coffee runs.
“I want this to stop,” Sehun blurts out in a moment of courage, but that’s how he usually is - doesn’t say much, but when he does it’s to the point.
“That’s okay.” Minseok’s quick to answer, feeling relieved if he’s honest.
“I-I think I’m… No, I am in love with someone,” Sehun says maybe a bit too loudly just as the waitress brings them their orders.
“I’m very happy for you, Sehun.”
“Really?” Sehun looks surprised, as if Minseok hasn’t been showing signs of wanting to let him go.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” It’s only out of being slightly protective of Sehun that he asks. Minseok would say Sehun deserves happiness, deserves to live through his twenties with a smile on his face and people good for him around him, people that will push him forward and not keep him one step behind like Minseok’s been feeling like he’s doing.
“He’s in my year. He’s amazing, really good for me. His-um-his name’s Jongin.” Sehun’s a little nervous as he shared that little bit of information and Minseok doesn’t know who Jongin is, but Sehun’s picky when it comes to people, Minseok found out he barely passed the test Sehun sets for people he considers keeping in his life. He’s both glad and sorry he did.
“I’m happy for you,” Minseok admits again.
“I’m happy too, but this doesn’t mean I’m throwing you away as a friend, you know that.”
“I know.”
March 27th 2014
The finishing touches are in place as Luhan fixes a picture frame, saying it looks a bit crooked. The living room looks cozy just as Luhan had wanted it to look and he’s grateful to have a space that doesn’t feel as cold when he’s alone.
“So I’ve called up some friends and I’m having a housewarming party tomorrow. It’s nothing big, but I would really like you to come, you should feel obligated to come because this is all you. And it couldn’t have become this without you.”
Minseok’s heart swells as he listens to Luhan talk about him that way and it doesn’t sound like a simple thanks, it’s a bit more than that, Minseok hopes he’s not deluding himself and Luhan’s hand on his shoulder isn’t as gentle only because Luhan is careful, but because he wants Minseok to know something - something important.
“Of course I’ll be here.” There’s fire dancing in Luhan’s eyes, his lips upturning in a warm smile and he fits here among all the blues and the peonies in the yellow vase on the coffee table. The apartment is a reflection of Luhan himself - all from the blanket folded on the couch where Minseok knows Luhan falls asleep after a night of too many pages to read. Minseok sees Luhan in the colors of the covers of books in his bookself and the orange notebook he keeps on the kitchen table - the one he writes additional notes for his authors in, the one with too many pages ripped out. And he sees the way Luhan looks at him too, like he sees Minseok falling asleep on the couch beside him, like he sees him eating breakfast at that kitchen table they so carefully picked out.
March 28th 2014
Minseok’s never really been partial to spring but it’s undeniably better than the harsh winter nights, spent bundled up in too much wool and heavy blankets. Spring is known as the time of rebirth, or so Zitao says in one of his not so rare moments of wisdom. Minseok would like to believe that all things outside of the blossoming flowers and sunny afternoons, the spring rain and lingering uncertainty of the slight leftover cold of winter, is only in passing towards summer and hopefully better times. Nature is inspiring in a way that can’t really be explained too thoroughly, although Minseok tries. It’s a fact that the times of year change people as well and once the gloom has left and the sun is up constantly it’s without a doubt that the smiles he receives and gives are more frequent. And he desperately tries to mimic the sincerity of Zitao’s grin, but it’s still not as well practiced. It’s not enough to convince that Minseok is doing well. He’s better, but not well enough and that will always stick with him, along with the realisation that winter will come again - bad times will come again. It’s a universal truth.
But it’s as the rain pats gently on his window, painting images of springtime love and promise and signing lullabies of early morning drizzle, it’s as images of Luhan pop up into his head, telling of alternate universes and unfinished stories. But mostly it’s in the moments when Minseok feels like he can open up his heart a bit. That’s when the feeling of regret starts to slowly fade away and that’s when the air he breathes is light and refreshing. No tension and no questions of the past. Minseok feels like he can look forward to the future while still carrying the weariness of yesterday and the day before. And despite the changing of the seasons, despite the fact that winter will inevitably come once again, Minseok tries to appreciate the warmth of now and the promise of summer in his heart - the possibility of sitting next to Luhan in the spring, summer and even freezing winter.
March 28th 2014
When Minseok gets to Luhan’s party he doesn’t expect there to be so many people occupying the rooms. There’s everything from people in expensive suits to a guy wearing a purple cardigan sitting on the kitchen counter drinking a beer. Minseok looks around, tries to pass by people without disrupting their conversations, he doesn’t know any of them so they don’t pay him much mind.
Luhan’s out on the balcony, drinking what looks like whiskey and Minseok wonders why he’s secluded himself like this, written himself off as an outsider at his own party. Luhan’s always seemed a bit strange in some ways. He’s easy to talk to, social, but keeps parts of himself closed off and doesn’t talk to anyone when he doesn’t feel he has anything of substance to say. They’ve spent afternoons at coffee shops with Luhan reading and Minseok looking through catalogues and marking things he finds of use and stylish. Those were days they barely spoke a word, but the silence is always comfortable with Luhan when it’s present. Minseok has never minded the quiet.
“Did it get too noisy in there for you too?” Luhan asks.
“No, not really. I couldn’t find you.” Minseok’s honest, tries to drop hints, tries to show he wants something for not only himself but the both of them. He sees the way they click. When you can sit for hours and find that the quiet of the other person never bothers you, when you can speak with your eyes and your gestures, when you know each other’s coffee orders and have shared things just on the verge of being very personal - that’s when a new thing is valuable. Minseok had said he’d make Luhan feel better at the start, he likes to flatter himself and believe he’s contributed in one way or another.
“I thought you weren’t coming, to be honest. It made me a bit sad.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. Just needed a few more hours at the office. Not everyone is as nice a client as you are.” It’s the sincerest form of flattery Minseok can muster. He’s a bit vague in his words, more sure of his actions than what’s coming out of his mouth.
“Can I share something with you, Minseok?” Luhan takes a sip, looks like he’s trying to piece himself together, straightening out his posture.
“Go ahead.” Minseok’s holding his breath - expectant, worried, afraid of what’s to come.
“I’m not nice just because it’s the way I am, not towards you at least. I’m a bit pathetic thinking I have a chance with you.” Looking down at his shoes, Luhan looks uncertain. With his right hand holding onto the balcony’s railing, holding on so tightly his knuckles are going white. Minseok’s astounded.
“No.” It’s quiet among the noise coming from inside the apartment and the cars on the streets and people talking or shouting at each other down bellow, but Luhan’s got sharp ears he hears it. The look in his eyes and the slight frown of his lips asks all the questions.
“You have all the chances with me.” Minseok’s quick to take hold of Luhan’s shaking hand, sees Luhan’s bottom lip trembling in the most vulnerable way possible. He’s truly beautiful with all his emotions spilling out of his eyes. Luhan’s grip is strong, he holds on so tightly and Minseok makes sure to return the same, to make sure it’s what he meant, what should happen. It’s not a confession by the Han River or a bouquet and chocolates on Valentine’s Day. It’s raw human emotion passing through their bodies, connecting at their fingertips - it’s a spark that ignites the flame. Minseok’s hand is warm and Luhan’s palm is sweaty, but those aren’t important things. The way Minseok’s heart is beating, the way Luhan’s looking at him - so intense and full of hope, that’s what’s important. That is what Minseok would like to keep.