’Cause Love Sucks, I Guess (2/3)

[sakurawitch.livejournal.com]

There had been more than one occasion where Luhan was broken. The first time was in the April of sophomore year in high school. Luhan had been dating for a few years, but no one in the past at that point had compared to Ju Lee. Ju Lee had been his longest relationship of six months. The girl was intelligent and careful, but apparently didn’t agree that Luhan was her soul mate. As always, it had been up to Minseok to comfort Luhan after he was dumped.

Minseok had comforting Luhan down to a science. Minseok knew to pat Luhan’s back and give him tissues while he wailed and curled in on himself, repeating over and over, “Oh God!” Minseok would shake his head and sigh, muttering every so often, “You’re okay, buddy. It’s gonna be okay.” He would nod when Luhan called the girl a bitch and would say “yes” when Luhan asked Minseok if he agreed.

After Ju Lee, though, there was none of that. When Minseok sat with a stone-cold Luhan on the park playground structure this time, it was different. Luhan was pale—a lost, distant look in his puffy eyes. Tears and snot streamed wordlessly down his face. It was so unlike the hysterics in past breakups that Minseok was all too familiar with. He didn’t know what else to do but just sit there with Luhan in the light spring drizzle.

The droplets soaked through Miseok’s jacket and spread across his skin. He saw them catching on Luhan’s eyelashes and collecting the tears. “Why doesn’t it ever work out, Minseok?” Luhan finally asked, so soft Minseok almost didn’t hear him.

Minseok just looked at his friend for a moment, Luhan’s eyes resting on the ground. How was Minseok supposed to know? “I dunno, man… ’Cause love sucks, I guess.”

“Then why does everyone hurt themselves for it?” Luhan’s lip was trembling a little as he turned to look at Minseok.

Minseok gave Luhan a helpless expression and rested an arm across his shoulder. “I can’t answer that, Lu,” Minseok whispered.

“It hurts,” Luhan said, voice shaking. Minseok felt Luhan’s head slowly lowering onto Minseok’s shoulder, hair tickling his cheek. He could feel Luhan shivering, pressed close and tight.

Minseok turned his head a bit toward Luhan, to tell him that they should go home because it was starting to rain pretty hard, but Luhan stopped him with a look Minseok had never seen before. Luhan looked lost and wrecked and something else… something else entirely, with his eyelashes countable and skin beaded with dew.

Luhan closed his eyes and Minseok’s mind went blank. Luhan began to lean in closer and Minseok was only confused—frozen. Then Luhan’s lips felt soft, feather-light against his own, breath painting warmth against Minseok’s cheek. Luhan’s lips moved tender and smooth; Minseok thought he saw the world tinted pink. Minseok didn’t move, didn’t reciprocate, just sat in shock, in confusion.

Luhan’s lips stopped abruptly and Minseok thought he heard a whine. The warmth left his skin and Luhan’s head fell against Minseok’s chest, shoulders shaking as Luhan began to sob. Minseok just patted Luhan’s back again, rubbing his shoulder soothingly, dazed and departed.

Luhan never spoke of that again, and neither did Minseok. Luhan got a boyfriend the following week that lasted a month. Minseok didn’t remember his name, and neither did Luhan.

The second time Luhan broke was junior year of high school. That was the year Luhan lost his virginity. Minseok knew that because Luhan talked about sex. All. The. Time.

He had lost his virginity to a girl named Su. When their relationship ended, post-breakup Luhan called her a cunt. He then proceeded to date football star Joon, causing their team’s star quarterback to sit out of the biggest game of the season due to suspicious butt soreness. After Joon broke up with Luhan, he called Joon a small-dicked coward.

The process continued until about halfway through the year when Luhan claimed to be done with relationships. No, sir, he was done with that “emotional shit.” He was decidedly in a friends-with-benefits deal with a lanky boy named Ming and, as he would always say, had “never been happier!”

Minseok could tell it wasn’t going to last. Luhan didn’t express emotions well, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have them. Luhan could never keep his feelings out of anything—or anyone—that he did.

So, Minseok was hardly surprised when Luhan showed up at Minseok’s house four months after the relationship began, crying outside the doorframe. Minseok sighed and ushered him into his room where he sat Luhan down on the bed and made him a cup of hot chocolate.

Luhan sat and drank for a while, the only sound in the room being his sniffing and periodic slurping. Minseok just sat next to him and read a magazine. He knew all he needed to be was there. Luhan didn’t need anything else.

Then there were fingers soft against Minseok’s wrist, warm from holding a heated mug. Minseok turned away from his magazine to meet Luhan’s face and found the same unreadable expression he had witnessed a year earlier in the park. Minseok felt his heartbeat quicken under Luhan’s stare, the fingers remaining still on Minseok’s skin.

Time was frozen once more as Luhan slid his hand up Minseok’s arm, tracing his palm and wrapping slowly, tenderly around his fingers. “Minseok…” Luhan whispered. “Have you… has anyone ever made you come?”

Minseok’s mouth went dry and he just held Luhan’s gaze for a bit longer, jaw opening and closing with nothing coming out.

“Minseok,” Luhan said, leaning close so that his breath ghosted across Minseok’s neck, “have you ever orgasmed with anyone before?”

Minseok shook his head almost imperceptibly. Then there were fingertips trailing up the inseam of his jeans, Luhan’s gaze hazy on Minseok’s lap. Minseok squeezed his eyes shut when the palm rested warm on his crotch, finding it hard to swallow.

“Minseok,” Luhan breathed yet again, voice a harmful melody against Minseok’s ear. Luhan’s voice was so quiet, almost as if it wasn’t there at all… so gentle, so pained. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Minseok opened his eyes and wished he hadn’t. The eyes he met were hungry, piercing, enchanting. His throat was so dry. “Do you want me to show you?” Minseok didn’t reply—couldn’t reply. Who was this? “Let me show you,” Luhan whispered and this time Minseok nodded shallowly.

Long fingers unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, tips pressing into the worn elastic of his boxers. And then Luhan was on Minseok’s lap, his comforter swishing from the movement, Luhan’s thin thighs tucked close on either side of Minseok’s. Luhan pulled the boxers down slowly, eyes remaining on Minseok’s hips. Minseok found himself panicking, the situation suddenly catching up with him.

This was Luhan; this was his best friend—this was the boy he built a cardboard rocket ship with in the first grade. This was the boy Minseok plotted to run away with to the candy factory, away from mean parents and nasty chores. This was the boy who got Minseok over his fear of ghosts by convincing him vacuums were supernatural weapons. This was the boy who only ate Power Rangers mac ‘n cheese for a month and thought moths were terrifying and always had one stubborn strand of blond hair sticking up no matter how many times he brushed it.

Minseok opened his mouth to say stop, to tell Luhan this was wrong, this was wrong, this was all so wrong, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as Luhan’s fingers wrapped around the base of Minseok’s cock. Luhan’s fingers looked so pale, so thin, as they gripped firmly around Minseok’s dick and moved slowly upward, to the tip. Luhan rubbed the head with his thumb and Minseok let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.

Minseok turned flush as he felt himself grow hard, his breathing shallow. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips as Luhan stroked up and down, up and down. Luhan rubbed the slit, smearing Minseok’s precome around his shaft.

Minseok let out an embarrassing whimper and Luhan began to pull harder, grip tighter. Minseok bit his bottom lip to stop the terrible noises from coming out of his mouth, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks undoubtedly red. Luhan was going faster now and Minseok couldn’t help a ragged moan from escaping his throat.

He buried his head in Luhan’s shoulder in humiliation, breath hot against Luhan’s collarbone. Minseok was so ashamed, so afraid of the utter bliss he was feeling. What would he have thought when he was younger? What was he thinking now?

Luhan’s fingers tugged hard and fast; the pleasure was blurred and blinding. Minseok gave a high-pitched cry as he came, head flinching upward, shoulders shaking. His cum was on Luhan’s fingers as he put Minseok back into his boxers and zipped up his jeans. His cum was on Luhan’s shirt as he shifted to climb off of Minseok. His cum was on the sheets that Luhan sat back down on as he began to cry.

And again Minseok patted Luhan’s back, rubbing in soothing circles as the boy sobbed into his hands.

Luhan didn’t speak to Minseok for a week after that. And when he finally did, it was never about what happened. Minseok sometimes wondered if it had even happened at all. The guilt in the pit of his stomach told him it did… so did the twist in his gut when he heard Luhan was going steady with a girl named Park Lin a few days after the incident.

The last time Minseok saw broken Luhan was their sophomore year of college, when the childish mistakes of the past had both been forgotten and seemed so far, far away. This time, however, when Luhan broke, Minseok refused to fix him.

Luhan was continuing to pick up and drop relationships, Minseok bringing Luhan warm consumables and listening to his blabbering every time the pair broke up for one reason or another. Now, though, there was always advise accompanying the pouty insults, explaining why the relationship hadn’t worked out and warning Minseok not to do the same.

“You see, Minseok,” Luhan would always sniffle out, “you’re never going to find the perfect person. That’s never going to exist. You just have to be willing to compromise.” Apparently, no one Luhan was with ever was.

They were all different; Luhan would date every person under the sun. However, the process was always the same: flirting, reckless love, sex, “this is the one”, turbulence, and end. Then, of course, Minseok—there was always Minseok at the end.

Freshman year of college was filled with crumbling week-long relationships for Luhan and, Minseok heavily suspected, plenty of one-night stands. Luhan was never one for thinking things through, always so susceptible to immediate gratifications. Sophomore year, however, Luhan was different.

At the beginning of October, Luhan met a boy named Hwan. Minseok knew from the start just how special Hwan was because Luhan didn’t storm into Minseok’s dorm with hands clutching his chest, sighing that he was, “in love.” Instead, he smiled and blushed at his phone and when Minseok asked who Luhan was texting, he would reply quietly, “a friend.”

Hwan didn’t seem to get swept away by Luhan like all the others; he miraculously slowed Luhan down as their relationship grew strong and steady. They dated for six months and Minseok was shocked when it came to an end.

But Luhan… Luhan wasn’t just shocked. Luhan was bitter, Luhan was mad. His hand was balled into a fist as angry tears dropped silently into his lap. Minseok sat next to Luhan on his bed, the silence of the dorm ringing in Minseok’s ears. Luhan hadn’t left his dorm in four days. Minseok would stop by for a couple hours every evening after classes to set food softly onto Luhan’s mattress and shove Luhan up to take a shower. Luhan never spoke, just blubbered sometimes and gave angry stares.

Minseok sighed. “You’re missing a lot of class, Lu. I mean, Saturday and Sunday was fine but you’re gonna be behind if you don’t get your ass out of bed soon.”

There was silence. Then, an unexpected, “Help me.”

Minseok felt relief spread across his chest. Luhan’s continued silence had begun to be worrisome after the second day. “I can get notes for your classes, but you’re gonna have to—“

“No,” Luhan croaked. “Not with that. Everything just… it all aches. Make it stop. Help me.”

Minseok shook his head and watched the tears trail down Luhan’s chin. “I don’t know how to do that, Lu. I’m sorry. I would if I could.”

Luhan gave Minseok an empty look and Minseok blinked back in surprise.

Then Minseok’s shoulders were bumping against the dorm room wall, his feet tripping over the ground and Luhan’s fingers wrung harsh around Minseok’s wrist. And Luhan dipped his head down and pressed hard against Minseok’s lips, catching a shuddering gasp. Luhan’s fingers were tugging Minseok’s hair, pulling roughly then smoothing soft.

The chest was so firm and solid and warm that pressed close against Minseok’s sweatshirt. There was a hand kneading heat into the bare skin above his jeans. Luhan’s mouth was so hot and overwhelming, licking right between Minseok’s lips. There was a tongue trailing across his own, a moan buzzing across his skin. Every time Minseok gasped, every time Minseok spluttered or moaned, Luhan would suck harder; bite down on Minseok’s lip.

Then there were hips grinding against his thigh, a loud, long groan piercing through the air. Everything was so warm, so sticky, so filthy as Luhan sucked on Minseok’s tongue, growing hard against his leg. Minseok felt Luhan’s thumb circle down beneath Minseok’s jeans, another hand trailing down his torso to meet at his waistband.

Luhan was about to tug, to pull down, to ravish. Then he was going to regret. No… No, Minseok didn’t want that. He couldn’t take that again. Luhan really couldn’t either.

“No,” Minseok muttered. Luhan didn’t hear. “No!” Minseok gasped, this time grabbing onto Luhan’s shoulders and shoving him away. Luhan was still breathing heavily, wearing an expression of shock. “No, Luhan,” Minseok said again. “You know I’ve never—you can’t keep—” Minseok choked, feeling his throat close and tears begin to spill onto his cheeks.

“You can’t keep doing this to me,” Minseok managed, drawing in a shaky breath. His voice was pitchy and loud and uncontrolled and he hated it. He hated it. “You can’t keep taking things from me just because you’re hurting. I can’t let you anymore. You need to-just-just stop this!”

Luhan’s face softened, as if breaking through a barrier of ice. He lifted a hand steadily, but Minseok slapped it away, the sound echoing across the empty walls. “No! This is not okay!” Minseok shouted, even though he knew no one was going to shout back.

“Minseok…” Luhan faltered. “I’m so sorry.”

Minseok just shook his head. “Don’t-don’t do this to me.”

“I won’t,” Luhan assured, “I won’t anymore.”

Minseok laughed but there was nothing funny about it. “I can’t keep giving you these things, Luhan. You’re gonna need to get your shit together without using me.”

“I will,” Luhan said softly and Minseok shook his head again. “Trust me, Minseok. I promise.” Luhan held out a pinky and Minseok stopped shaking. “And if I break that promise, I am forever an official poop-head for eternity: second grade law.” Luhan smiled tentatively and Minseok really couldn’t help but smile back, wrapping his pinky softly around Luhan’s.

“You’re already a poop-head,” Minseok said weakly and Luhan laughed.

The next time Luhan had a break up, about a month later, Minseok hadn’t even known about it until Luhan was dating someone else. After that relationship ended, again Minseok didn’t hear about the breakup until Jongdae said something.

That time, Minseok searched for and found Luhan on a campus bench outside the science building, his shoulders hunched and cheeks raw.

“Hey,” Minseok said, slipping down next to Luhan. The boy startled slightly, looking at Minseok as if frightened of him. “You know, when I said you weren’t allowed to use me, that didn’t mean I’m not still your best friend. I’m here for you, Lu—always have been. I can still listen to you bitch and buy you pastries and shit if you want.”

Luhan laughed a little, the unease slipping off of his face with a soft smile. “Thanks, Min…”

Minseok smiled back, but then faltered when Luhan gave Minseok a pat on the shoulder and got up to leave.

They still played soccer every Saturday like they used to, still studied at each other’s dorms into the ungodly hours of the night until someone made a terrible joke and they decided they were too tired to continue, still watched foreign movies without subtitles and came up with their own dialogues… But Luhan never came to Minseok to vent about his breakups ever again.

Minseok couldn’t help but feel a bit bothered, especially when he heard Luhan had dumped his last three partners in the course of a month. Luhan rarely broke up with anyone; it was usually Luhan getting dumped, Luhan getting hurt. Even when Luhan broke up with people, it was after weeks of discomfort or fights; never mere days when nothing seemed wrong.

When Minseok asked about it, asked Luhan if he had been fighting with his girlfriend when he’d dumped her, Luhan shrugged. “It’s not that. She was sweet; we didn’t really have any reason to argue,” he said. “She just… we weren’t right for each other.”

Minseok nodded even though he wasn’t quite sure he understood. What had happened to compromise?

Luhan had remained single ever since that month. He got asked out sometimes. Minseok knew; Minseok saw the various guys and girls leaning close to Luhan, batting their eyelashes and offering a date. But Luhan would always smile politely, softly decline. After about a month of Luhan being single, Minseok grew concerned. “What, you decide you’re too good for everyone?” he had questioned with a smirk.

Luhan had laughed and picked at the sleeve of his shirt absentmindedly. “Nah… I think I should just take a break for a while. Figure out what I’m looking for.”

The reply made Minseok nervous. The answer was so practical, so level-headed—the furthest thing from Luhan Minseok had ever witnessed. Perhaps he just had to admit Luhan was finally growing up.

A couple months later, Minseok met Yixing during the summer after sophomore year. Minseok had never dated before; he never searched and he never really knew where to start. Sometimes he’d have a crush that didn’t like him back. A few times he’d been confessed to and not returned the feelings. He was never desperate to form a relationship; he figured love was something he’d be willing to wait for.

With Yixing, the wait was over. They met at the library while Minseok was taking advantage of the free wi-fi to email his parents. Minseok would always vividly remember the day he met Yixing, such an insignificant moment leading to such special memories.

Yixing had been wearing a plain grey t shirt and worn black shorts, his dark hair growing shaggy and eyes as gentle as the sea. He was reading Steinbeck, one of Minseok’s favorite American authors. He started chatting to Yixing about the book, discovering his voice was smooth and melodious. Yixing called Minseok’s smile cute, Minseok called Yixing’s dimple adorable, and the rest was history.

They met at the library a few more times, talking about novels they’d read and movies they’d watched. When Minseok mentioned he really liked sci-fi, Yixing offered to take Minseok to the cinema on the weekend. The cinema turned into weekday café dates, which turned into morning walks in the park, which turned into moonlit dinners, which turned into late night cuddle sessions. Before Minseok knew it, three months had passed and he was in love.

Whenever he talked to Yixing, looked at Yixing, thought of Yixing, Minseok was at home. He felt a warmth bud in his stomach and a comfort settle into his chest. The ground was air, the air was as sweet as flowers.

It was so odd to be dating while Luhan wasn’t. The boy still hadn’t even considered a relationship since the day he’d made his decision. Minseok admitted he felt a bit guilty spending so much time with his boyfriend, but Luhan didn’t seem to mind very much. The two still hung out whenever there was an opportunity, Luhan listening politely to Minseok’s gushing and giving a light, “I’m happy for you.”

Though Luhan didn’t seem bothered by the relationship, Minseok wasn’t so sure himself. Yixing was Minseok’s first in so many ways—his first college crush, his first date, his first love. However, Minsoek was all too aware of how many firsts Yixing wasn’t. Yixing wasn’t Minseok’s first kiss when their lips met one starry evening by the lake. Yixing wasn’t Minseok’s first handjob when he came onto Yixing’s couch the night his roommate was out of town. Yixing wasn’t the first to wipe Minseok’s tears out of his eyes when he spilled his secrets and insecurities into the quiet autumn air.

All of those firsts were held by Luhan. Luhan, who Minseok worried about when he went on a date. Luhan, whose lips Minseok thought of whenever he kissed Yixing. Luhan, who Minseok began to have wet dreams about at night, bringing him to completion with a soft, soft voice.

Yixing could tell Minseok was distracted whenever they were together. He could always tell what Minseok was feeling. But whenever he’d ask, Minseok would just brush it off with a nervous smile, hoping his unease would leave eventually.

It didn’t. Yixing knew something was wrong. He felt like Minseok didn’t want to be a part of the relationship anymore. Minseok told him that wasn’t true, but Yixing didn’t believe him. Minseok wouldn’t have believed himself either.

So, seven months after meeting him, Yixing broke up with Minseok.

“I’m sorry, Minseok, you know I care about you,” he had said with a sad smile. “I just don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want me back, you know? Let’s just be friends, okay? Until you can figure this out, at least. I’ll be here when you need me.”

Yixing had given Minseok a gentle kiss to the forehead and left him sitting alone again in the library, stewing in confusion. Minseok loved Yixing, right? How could Minseok just let the boy leave? Luhan was only a friend—someone Minseok admittedly shared mistakes with in the past. Why couldn’t he just let those screw ups go?

Minseok considered the possibility that perhaps he wanted Luhan to be something other than a friend, but was immediately repulsed. Why was that idea so horrifying?

The answer was found in the breakup nights Minseok replayed in his head. His throat grew sore, tears dropping onto the library table at the realization. He couldn’t be one of those people to Luhan. Minseok wouldn’t be able to stand it: to be resorted to a frustrated slur, a few angry cries. He didn’t want to be one of the flings Luhan sobbed about and forgot the next day. A lifetime of friendship wasn’t worth a week of fleeting “love”.

So, Minseok decided he wasn’t allowed to think of that. Of course he didn’t think that way about Luhan. Luhan was practically Minseok’s brother; his friend from almost birth. It was utterly ridiculous to be asking for something different when he was already blessed with so much.

Still, he let Yixing go. He slipped right through Minseok’s fingers and Minseok didn’t do a thing about it. There would be no more stupidly kind morning greeting texts on his phone anymore, no more jacket borrowing, no more slowly edging further and further towards the act of sex.

Minseok decided he’d go to his room and try to sleep the grief off a bit, but the hours passed and the grief never left. Every day, his legs grew heavier and the process of getting up seemed more and more difficult. Luhan tried to call, tried to get into the dorm, but Minseok would always tell Jondae to shoo the boy off. Minseok slept and felt sorry for himself and waited for the numbness to subside.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3