Luhan meets him on the first day of soccer practice.

They’re all sitting outside under the bright afternoon sun, about two dozen around the field. A few of them aren’t even on the team, just spectators who have stayed behind after school. Yet even like this, it’s easy to tell the first years from the second and third years simply from the way that they’re standing in the field.

Luhan’s tying his shoelace carefully, pulling at the knot as he looks around the field. He feels a little lost, almost overwhelmed from everything that’s going on. The coach isn’t even here yet, but an unofficial game is already starting. He’d only been told that he’d been accepted onto the team, and to report here after his last class. He’s hesitant to ask around, to stand out more than he already is.

He doesn’t recognize any of the faces around him, and no one has made an effort to talk to him. Luhan turns to his other foot and starts tying those laces as well, looking up when he’s finished.

That’s when he catches the eye of the boy sitting just to the right of him in the grass, leaning back on his palms and staring directly at Luhan. He’s a first year too, Luhan thinks, glancing at the boy’s shirt and shorts, which are noticeably different from the soccer uniforms that all of the returning soccer team members are wearing.

But that’s not the thing that holds Luhan’s attention—it’s the boy’s eyes, sharp and fascinating, and maybe it’s the way that the sun is reflecting on them that makes them such a startling blue color.

Luhan pulls lightly at his shoelace, satisfied when the double knot doesn’t give. It’s going to be a pain to undo later, but he’s not keen on landing on his face the first day of soccer practice. He looks over at the boy, and when he notices that the other is still staring at him, he comes to a decision as he scoots a little closer. “Hey, I’m Luhan,” Luhan says, hoping that he doesn’t come off too strong, hoping that the boy won’t brush him off.

There’s a moment when the boy just stares at him, when Luhan’s outstretched hand dangles awkwardly in the air, but then he smiles, reaching over to take Luhan’s hand. “I’m Minseok.” He squeezes Luhan’s hand briefly, laughing softly as he lets go. “Your first time here? You look nervous.” His words are light and he looks perfectly at ease, and it almost makes Luhan wonder why Minseok had bothered looking at him.

“Yeah.” Luhan swallows, smiling as he asks, “You?”

“My first year too,” Minseok says, and he looks like he’s going to continue, but the whistle blows, cutting him off.

The coach has finally gotten to the field, and Luhan remembers him from tryouts the week before school had even started—remembers his impassive face, the way he’d screamed at the players. He’s screaming at them now, telling them to stop playing around and start stretching, admonishing the first years for taking so long to get ready.

“He’s scary,” Minseok mutters, as the team form something that vaguely resembles a circle.

Luhan just nods as they start stretching. Wu Yifan, the soccer captain, is standing in the middle of the circle, calling out the odd numbers as the rest of the team says the even numbers. Luhan vaguely remembers the boy from tryouts, the one who had sat on the sidelines the first half of practice, talking with the coach and looking out into the field. He’d joined later on, scoring a spectacular goal near the end.

Tryouts had only been a few weeks ago, but try as he can, Luhan doesn’t remember seeing Minseok there. He’s sure that he’d at least have some memory of the other, if only from his bright blue eyes, or from his obvious flexibility as he stretches, but there’s nothing at all.

“Hey,” Luhan says, falling in step beside Minseok as they do their two warm up laps around the track. “Were you at tryouts a few weeks ago?”

Minseok shakes his head, a gesture that effectively tosses his hair from his eyes. “I just moved here when school started. I had a one-on-one session with the coach.”

Luhan raises his eyebrows, slightly surprised. It’s easy to overlook Minseok from how small his figure is, but oftentimes, speed and agility are more than enough to make up for brute force. And Minseok must be good, if he was able to miss the tryouts and still make the team. Luhan himself had just barely managed to get a spot, partly because he’d managed to conceal his mistakes and had been lucky enough to make them when the coach hadn’t been looking.

“Come on,” Minseok says, turning back to look at Luhan when he notices that the other has fallen a few steps behind on their second lap. “I’ll race you to the finish.”

Luhan laughs as he runs after Minseok, keeping his eyes on the finish line as they go around the last curve. It’s hard to tell which one of them crosses the line first, the sound of their feet hitting the ground drowned out by their laughter as they catch each other’s eyes.

Maybe, Luhan thinks, this isn’t so bad after all. He’d initially joined the team because he enjoyed playing soccer, a casual game with friends after a long school day. The tryouts had taught him that being on the team wasn’t something to be taken lightly, that it’s not going to easy. But it is easier having Minseok next to him right now, someone to keep pace with and someone to laugh with.

Later, when Luhan’s changing in the locker room, he looks briefly in the mirror to fix his hair. He almost trips when he sees his own reflection, when he looks at his eyes through the mirror. He’s certain that when he last checked this morning, his eyes had been an ordinary brown color, but now, they’re a startling, clear blue.

 

Minseok's the one to approach Luhan the next day, sitting down next to Luhan on the grass as they start stretching.

"Hey," he says, turning his head to smile at Luhan as he reaches down to touch his toes.

"Hi," Luhan replies, returning Minseok's smile as he begins to stretch his other leg.

The captain, Wu Yifan, turns around to look at them as they begin their next set of stretches. He doesn't say anything, and he might not even be looking at them in particular, but it's enough to quiet them as they start counting. Yifan's voice, loud and clear, counts out the odd numbers while the other team members count the even numbers. There's something about Yifan's presence that is quietly authoritative, easily commanding the team’s attention.

"Tired from yesterday?" Minseok asks, as they do their warm-up laps around the field.

"It takes more than that." Luhan's a little out of shape from a long, relaxing summer, but the day before hadn't been particularly difficult. They'd ended with a few drills and had barely even touched the soccer ball.

Luhan speeds up a little, and Minseok keeps up with his pace. They don't say anything else, the sound of feet hitting the ground filling the silence between them.

Luhan's almost disappointed when they reach the finish line. He's out of breath, but there's something refreshing about just running, forgetting everything that had been bothering him. It catches up later, though, sometime when they're lining up at the water fountain outside with its warm, unsatisfying water.

Luhan waits behind Minseok in the line, catching Minseok's eyes as he turns around and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Were your eyes always blue?" Luhan blurts out, distracted again by how bright Minseok's eyes are.

Minseok looks caught off guard, and behind him, Luhan can hear some people grumbling about how long he's taking. He ignores them, staring at Minseok as he stands before the fountain. "No," Minseok eventually answers, drawing out the syllables. "It just happens, you know? You look into the mirror one day, and..."

"Yeah." Luhan swallows, opens his mouth to say more, but the grumbles behind him are getting louder. He steps up to the fountain, drinking a mouthful of water more for the purpose of staying hydrated than to find some relief from the heat.

It's not until later that Luhan manages to talk to Minseok again. They're changing in the locker rooms, tired after a long practice. Luhan sits down on the bench next to Minseok, looking up as Minseok runs fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

"Are you going to get dinner?" Luhan asks, throwing his shoes into the locker and slamming it closed.

"Yeah." Minseok hesitates, glancing at Luhan. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Sure." Luhan gets up, pulling Minseok closer with a hand on his shoulder. He fixes Minseok's hair, smoothing the strands so that it falls neatly over his forehead.

They head out of the locker room together. The school grounds are already mostly empty, a ghost of its usual state. Even in the mornings, there are students here, wearing matching blue and white collared uniforms as they play basketball on the courts. It feels weird walking through it now, dressed in shorts with the top buttons of his shirt undone.

There's a group of other soccer players in front of them, most of them returning members. Luhan recognizes Yifan and Junmyeon, the co-captain of the team. Luhan is still putting names to faces, trying to learn the names of the other members on the team. It's easy learning the different groups, the way the team is divided during breaks and after breakfast. Luhan knows that the group in front of them is very closely knit, most of them third years who had been on the team all three years in high school. From where he is, a few paces behind them, it seems almost impossible to be a part of it, to talk casually with some of the best players in their school.

But maybe he will, Luhan thinks. In a few months or weeks, he'll be more comfortable with the other members on the team. He has Minseok right now, at least.

"You know," Minseok says, as they're standing at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change, "your eyes are blue too."

"Yeah." Luhan wants to ask how he knows with the dimness of the setting sun, the neon colors from the nearby lights illuminating them. He looks up at the darkening sky, the way the sun's rays are fading into deep red and violet. The colors are bold against the dark blue of the sky, a beautiful side effect of the city's pollution.

He opens his mouth to say more, but then the light turns green and they're walking across the street. His words are lost in the roar of the engine from a passing motorcycle.

"Do you want to go to a noodle shop?" Luhan asks, once they're on the other side of the road.

"Sure." Minseok looks up at the signs over their heads. "I haven't been to this side of town before," he says, as Luhan points out two different restaurants just down the road. "We live on the other side of town."

"This is one of the best restaurants here," Luhan says, stopping in front of one of the small family owned stores. He can smell the fried food through the door, can almost imagine the taste on his tongue. "I'll take you to all the best places." Luhan's mother had taken Luhan here the first day they'd moved into the city. Luhan still remembers the excitement, like he'd been stepping into a new world, an unlimited range of possibilities like the millions of lights at night.

"It smells great," Minseok says, laughing when Luhan replies with, "It tastes better."

They've gone into the restaurant, so Luhan can see Minseok clearly under the lights. He'd noticed Minseok because of his captivating eyes, but Minseok's smile, he realizes, is just as fascinating.

 

Luhan hears his mother early in the morning, humming as she prepares breakfast. It's Saturday morning, which means that she doesn't have to go to the restaurant until later that day.

When Luhan gets back after jogging in the park, she's hanging the laundry, putting the newly washed clothes on hangers to dry on the balcony. He walks up to help her, taking the hangers and grabbing some clothes from the washer.

"Thanks," she says, turning to smile at him, only to freeze when they make eye contact. "Luhan, your eyes."

Luhan blinks, putting the hanger on the line as his free hand brushes the skin under his eyes. It's easy to forget when no one's really asked him about it, when eyes changing colors isn't all that uncommon in their world. And after the first few days, he'd gotten used to staring into the mirror and seeing the bright blue color.

He hadn't had the chance to talk to his mother much since school had begun, though, so she hadn't noticed until now.

"Who is it?" she asks, her tone careful, almost guarded.

Luhan looks down at the city below, at the streets that are still mostly empty. He thinks about the past week, about looking forward to soccer practice no matter how tired he was, about a boy his age who kept up with him through whatever they were doing. "Minseok," he says, remembering the neat characters that had been written across the top of Minseok's notebook.

His mother touches his hand as Luhan starts to take another clothes hanger. He's startled by how much smaller her hands are, by the wrinkles that had formed sometime over the years. She doesn't say anything, but there's an unspoken blessing in her gestures.

"I'd like to meet him," she says eventually, when Luhan's turned to face the clothesline again.

Luhan laughs, and it's like some heavy weight has been lifted, thrown over the railing of the balcony. "I'll bring him over," he promises, and smiles back at his mother.

He still remembers those days, though, before they'd moved into the city. There's a reminder in his mother's eyes each time he looks into them, the sadness magnified in her once bright green eyes that have faded in intensity. He'd learned, even at a young age, that some soulmates weren't meant to be, that not all stories have a happy ending.

Even now, with the bright city lights reflecting in his mother's eyes, it's not the same as the way she'd looked in the pictures, a kind of happiness that can't be duplicated.

Maybe here, they've managed to find new beginnings, but even so, it's impossible to leave behind the past.

"Come on in," his mother says, when they've finished hanging the clothes.

For a moment, the silence seems to linger in the air, a kind of spell hanging over the city before it begins to wake up, before the sound of horns and advertising sellers echo in the streets. Luhan stares up at the clear blue sky a moment longer before turning to follow his mother back into the apartment.

 

Their first game of the year happens in the rain, in murky gray weather. It makes it difficult to see, and they have trouble gaining a footing on the ground. Slipping on the ground in good weather is already common enough, but with the rain, they're falling in the mud, tripping over each other.

Luhan only plays in the last half, and manages to trip nearly ten times in the duration that he's in the game. They lose spectacularly, losing far more goals than they should have.

To say the least, their coach is furious. Their first game of the year is supposed to be the easiest, a way of easing into the season, and instead, they'd lost. The team had gotten second place in the district championships last year, and their goal this year is to at least maintain that position. Even one loss, especially one so early in the season, could push them back several ranks.

As a sort of punishment, they're told to run around the track for the time that's allotted for practice. The first five to stop, the coach says, would not be in the starting lineup for their next game. He often makes these kind of threats--the last three to finish the lap will have to do another--but this time, it doesn't look like he's joking.

Junmyeon gives them a sympathetic glance, but no one dares to argue with the coach. They start off in groups, automatically dividing according to grade level. With each successive lap, the groups will break apart more and more, until they're scattered over the field.

Junmyeon hangs back a little, giving them advice. "Slow down a little if you need to, but don't stop." He smiles, an expression directed at no one in particular that manages to make each person feel special regardless.

Minseok and Luhan start off side by side, keeping about a few meters behind the group in front of them.

"I wish they could have called off the game," Minseok says, brushing his bangs back from his eyes as they start running. "Now the coach is going to make us practice in the rain."

Luhan tilts his head up to glance at the sky. "It looks like it's going to start raining soon." There are gray clouds overhead, effective in blocking off the worst of the sun's rays, but they're a warning that it might start raining.

The first lap is fairly easy, so much so that it's almost hard to keep a steady pace and resist the urge to sprint to the finish line.

"Tell me more about you," Minseok says, turning his head to smile at Luhan as they start their next lap. "Did you always live here?"

"No," Luhan says. He doesn't mean to say much more, but once he starts, it seems like he can't stop. He tells Minseok about growing up in a small town an hour away from the city, about living with his mother and grandparents, how he'd never met his dad, had never even seen a picture of him. His mother worked at a restaurant here, and it wasn't easy, but at least she was happier here than she had been in the same place where she'd grown up with her soulmate. Luhan confesses imagining what his dad had been like--a national hero, the king of some foreign country, or a magician who hadn't fit in this realm--but he's realized now that it doesn't matter.

And when Luhan falters, nearly choking on the lack of oxygen from how much he's saying, Minseok's quick to break the silence.

He tells Luhan about growing up in a wealthy family, about having to move every few years because of his father's job. "I don't even think my parents are soulmates," he says, slowing down a little to let Luhan catch up as they go around the turn. "Their eyes are different colors and the way they talk..."

It's not like finding your soulmate guarantees an easy future. Fate can only do so much; the rest is up to the individual to try to make it work. And it's not like your soulmate is the only one for you; there are a lot of couples with different colored eyes, or even couples whose eyes are still a plain brown or black color.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Minseok asks, after a moment of silence. His breathing is a little heavier now, and Luhan's lost track of how many laps they've done, focusing only on the people who are ahead of them.

"I believe in chances," Luhan says.

It almost sounds like a promise, but not quite. They don't say any more, saving their breath as they continue. It's hard to keep track of who's done how many when they're all on a circular track. Luhan doubts that the coach is even watching them, but he keeps going because he doesn't know if he'll be able to continue if he stops. He only knows that they still haven't passed up Yifan and his group yet.

It starts drizzling, the droplets of water barely noticeable at first. The rain provides a sort of relief from the hot sun, from the heat of their exertion, but with it comes humidity, thick and heavy like it's trying to weigh them down.

When Minseok falters a little, nearly slipping on the wet track, Luhan catches him with a hand on his arm.

"Careful," Luhan says, slowing down a little as he waits for Minseok to regain his footing.

Minseok gives him a grateful smile as they continue. It's hard to see with rain and perspiration dripping down his face, but Luhan has the assurance that Minseok is next to him, matching him step for step.

They had started out with about five, all first years, but Luhan and Minseok are the first to reach the finish line. Luhan thinks that it's easier like this--someone who can keep pace with him, someone to catch him if he falls, someone to talk to as they run.

It's raining hard by the time they're told they can stop. About half a dozen have already finished and are already running into the school building, eager to get out of the rain. Luhan can almost imagine the complaints in the locker room, the arguments as the hot water in the shower is quickly used up.

But Junmyeon stays outside, standing by the finish line, offering encouragement to those within the last fifty meters. "Sprint it in!" he screams, his voice barely audible above the rain and the blood rushing in Luhan's ears. "Good job," he tells Minseok and Luhan as they cross the finish line and slow down to a jog.

Luhan laughs, breathless but satisfied. The air conditioning within the gym room is surprisingly cold, but at least it's dry in here.

"He's a good leader," Minseok says, as they pause by the water fountain.

It takes Luhan a moment to realize that Minseok is talking about Junmyeon. He gulps down his mouthful of water, mumbling a, "Yeah," as he steps aside to let Minseok get by.

He takes Minseok's hand as they walk into the locker room, feeling the warmth fill him from his fingertips.

 

Luhan always looks both ways before crossing the street, no matter what the traffic lights say. Motorcyclists and bikers don’t usually pay attention to the lights anyway, choosing to go whenever there’s an opening. It’s not like accidents occur often, not when all vehicles move at such a slow speed, but it never hurts to be careful.

Luhan’s so busy keeping an eye on the traffic that he almost doesn’t notice someone standing in front of him until he bumps into him. “Sorry,” he says, trying to sidestep him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the boy asks, grabbing onto Luhan’s arm and forcefully turning him around.

“Look,” Luhan says, allowing a hint of irritation to slip into his tone. It really isn’t that big of a deal, but the glint in the boy’s eyes tells him that he’s looking for a fight. Luhan doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain him. “I already apologized, so—”

“You call that an apology?” He takes a step forward, grabbing onto Luhan’s collar. “You nearly pushed me into the streets, and you think you’re going to get away with a few words?”

Luhan pushes the boy away, looking up to meet his eyes. Judging from his uniform, he goes to the same school as Luhan, although Luhan hasn’t seen him around before. They’re just a few blocks from the school, but the boy doesn’t seem to be willing to let Luhan walk past him anytime soon. “Can we settle this later? We have to get to class.”

“What’s your problem?” The boy mutters a few curses under his breath as he takes another step closer.

Luhan takes a step back to avoid him, and he’s suddenly aware of how close he is to the road, just one push away from falling into the traffic. He swallows nervously, trying not to look back. There are other pedestrians around them, and he wonders why none of them tries to step forward to help. “We can settle this later,” he says, smiling as convincingly as he can. “Let’s just—”

His next words are cut off when the boy pushes him. Luhan regains his balance quickly, but he’s too close to the traffic now. There’s no way he can push back, not when this boy is so much bigger than he is, not when there’s genuine anger in his eyes. Luhan opens his mouth to cry for help, but he can’t seem to say anything.

Then someone comes up behind them, pulling the boy away by a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on here?”

Luhan breathes in deeply, realizing how scared he had been, how quickly his heart had been beating. It’s Yifan, his expression almost scary because of how angry he looks.

“Nothing,” the boy says, his initial anger fading away when he realizes that he’s outnumbered. “It’s just his ing eyes.” He turns around and leaves, walking away quickly.

“Are you okay?” Yifan asks Luhan. There’s a hint of concern in his usually impassive expression.

“I’m fine,” Luhan says. He’s still trembling a little, but at least now, the danger is gone. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Yifan smiles at him. “Get on my bike. I’ll take you to school.”

Luhan opens his mouth to protest, but Yifan cuts him off. “We’re all on the same team, right? We look out for each other. It’s not a big deal.”

Luhan blinks, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn’t even thought that Yifan knew that he was on the team. While Junmyeon had taken the time to talk to all of the members of the team within the first week, getting to know their names, Yifan had remained aloof, staying with his group of friends and only speaking to the other members when he was giving instructions. There are even rumors that Junmyeon would make a better leader than Yifan.

“I’m strong enough to bike both of us, don’t worry,” Yifan says, when Luhan hesitates a moment longer.

It’s not far from the school, and it’s not like Luhan needs to be protected, but he gets on anyway. The small metal seat on the back of the bicycle is slightly uncomfortable, and the bike tilts dangerously to one side when they start off.

It’s scarier sitting on the back of a bicycle than riding one, especially since Luhan can’t see what’s in front of them, can’t control the way the bicycle leans too much whenever they make a turn. He immediately gets off the bicycle once they’re outside the school gates.

“Thanks,” he says to Yifan while the other locks his bike.

Yifan nods, falling in step next to Luhan as they walk towards the school building. “Your eyes,” he says suddenly, turning to face Luhan in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’ve met your soulmate already?”

There’s a sort of contempt in the way that Yifan pronounces the word, something in his expression that makes it obvious he doesn’t believe in such a thing. “Yeah.” Luhan pulls lightly on his backpack strap, thinking back to the words the boy had said to him in the streets just minutes ago. It had seemed like the boy had gotten mad at him because of the color of his eyes, and he wonders if it’s really such a big deal that he’d met his soulmate earlier than most others.

“It’s Minseok, isn’t it?” Yifan asks, and Luhan’s shocked silence is enough of an answer. Yifan smiles warmly, his previously disdainful expression gone as he touches Luhan’s shoulder briefly. “Good luck.”

 

It had taken a few years for Luhan to save up for a motorcycle, hours of working at the restaurant six days a week, nights spent poring over advertisements and information booklets, looking for the right model.

It's worth it, though, when Luhan shows up at school with the motorcycle. He wavers a little as he drives it, still unused to the feeling under his fingertips. His uncle had taught him how to drive a motorcycle at the age of ten, taking him to open fields on weekend afternoons and showed him how to control the vehicle. But this one is different. Luhan can feel the powerful roar of the engine underneath him, the thrill of the wind as it rushes in his ears.

His mother had warned him to be careful, reminding him to wear a helmet before he'd left for school that morning. Even the helmet doesn't quite block out the thrill of the speed, the cold winds stinging the corner of Luhan's eyes as he goes a little faster.

There are heads turning in his direction as Luhan drives through the school gates.

This is the part where Luhan takes off his helmet and flips his hair, but he can't quite undo the straps of his helmet.

Someone laughs by his ear, helping him get his helmet off. "That was really smooth," Minseok says, grinning as Luhan turns. He hands the helmet back to Luhan, shaking his head in mock admonishment.

Luhan laughs as he takes the helmet back. "Thanks." It takes him a moment to put his helmet away and lock the motorcycle. "Do you like it?" he asks, the pride inevitably seeping into his tone as he looks at the shiny paint on the motorcycle.

"It's beautiful," Minseok says, falling in step beside Luhan as they walk towards the school building.

"I'll take you on a ride after school," Luhan promises, lingering outside the door of Minseok's classroom. "We'll go to the park and play soccer," he manages to say before Minseok pushes him away with a laugh.

Minseok meets him after school outside his classroom, holding a soccer ball. Soccer season had ended a few weeks back, and they'd only made it to the semifinals. They still go home together, though, stopping by at the park to play soccer if they have time.

"Are you sure you know how to drive this?" Minseok asks, hesitating in front of the motorcycle. "I'm kind of important, you know."

Luhan laughs, handing Minseok a helmet. "I'm an amazing driver." He unlocks the wheel, swinging a leg over the seat as he starts the engine. "Get on behind me and put your hands around my waist," he says, steadying the motorcycle as Minseok gets on.

The motorcycle isn't all that big, so Minseok is pressed almost completely to Luhan's back, his breath warm against the back of Luhan's neck as they leave the school. It's nice, Luhan thinks, as Minseok holds on a little tighter when they turn a corner.

"Faster?" Luhan calls over his shoulder, his words almost lost in the wind.

Minseok leans closer, his cheek pressed next to Luhan's. It's mildly distracting, but Luhan doesn't tell him to move, instead keeping his eyes straight ahead on the road. "What?"

"Faster?" Luhan repeats, half turning in his seat.

"No!" Minseok pulls his arm back, as though ready to hit Luhan, but he seems to think better of it. Instead, he blows air at the back of Luhan's ear. "Are you crazy?"

Luhan laughs, speeding up some just to hear Minseok's laugh by his ear, feel Minseok leaning further into him.

The park is just a few minutes away, within walking distance. They usually jog there after school, a sort of warm up before they get started on the game.

"We're not driving next time," Minseok says, pulling off his helmet before stepping forward to undo Luhan's.

Luhan grins, stepping away when Minseok has taken off his helmet. It's almost winter now, the trees turning a vivid shade of red and gold, the wind cold and strong. Minseok walks away with the soccer ball under his arm, and Luhan freezes for a moment in the middle of locking his motorcycle.

"Hurry up!" Minseok stops a few meters away, waving a hand in near agitation. His cheeks are a light shade of pink, his hair messy and windblown, and only half of the buttons on his jacket are done.

"Wait," Luhan calls back, putting his keys back into his pocket and getting up.

It seems like the city is moving slower as the weather gets colder, people pulling their jackets closer to themselves, holding cups of hot chocolate in their mittened hands. It's easy to forget the cold when they're in the field, when the only thing that matters is scoring the next goal. Luhan immerses himself in the game, watching the arc of the ball and the way that Minseok is moving.

He only tackles Minseok when the other holds up five fingers, signaling that their time is up and the game is over. They fall into the grass together, laughing as they roll in the leaves. There's the rush of adrenaline in Luhan's ears, and this is the part that he loves the most, even more than scoring the winning goal--the lingering thrill after the game, the tight hug that Minseok gives him to tell him that it's okay, that he did his best.

"I'm getting dirty," Minseok says, pushing at Luhan's shoulder. "Get off."

Luhan sits back in the grass, waiting as Minseok dusts stray leaves off of himself. He takes Minseok's hand, pulling them up together.

"We still have a few minutes," Luhan says, glancing down at the watch around Minseok's wrist. "I'm taking you home today," he adds, sitting down on the ground before his bike and pulling on Minseok's arm until he sits as well.

"You don't even know where my house is," Minseok says, the laughter obvious in his voice, in the way his eyes are curved in the beginning of a smile.

"I'll find out today." There's a hint of challenge in Minseok's eyes, and Luhan grins as he leans closer.

Hugging after a game is fine, almost a norm between the two of them, but they've never been this close before, teetering on the edge. It's not like Luhan hasn't wanted to, hasn't noticed the soft pink of Minseok's cheeks and lips. He moves closer, hears Minseok's laugh die in his throat, watches as Minseok's eyes widen, waiting for him to make the move.

A little more and there would be no more space between them, an unlimited expanse of possibilities before them.

Luhan places his hands on the motorcycle, steadying himself. It's not much of a support, though, and the motorcycle tilts dangerously for a moment before falling over.

Luhan lets his head fall against Minseok's shoulder instead, muffling his laughter into Minseok's jacket. He can feel Minseok trembling from laughter as well, the sound threatening to spill from his lips.

Maybe they hadn't completely crossed the line, but this is good enough, Luhan thinks, placing a hand on the small of Minseok's back and catching him as they fall back onto the ground together.

 

Luhan pauses within the entrance of the theater. Minseok is just a few steps in front of him, two tickets in his hand. He's glancing down at his watch, his hand coming up to the back of his neck in a way that is incredibly adorable.

Luhan runs up to him, placing both hands on Minseok's shoulder. It makes Minseok jerk in surprise and twist under Luhan's grasp.

"Did I surprise you?" Luhan asks, grinning widely as he lets his arms fall back to his side.

Minseok laughs, reaching out an arm to hit Luhan. He doesn't reach any further when Luhan dodges, shaking his head as Luhan drifts back to his side again. "I bought our tickets," he says, waving the slips of paper in his hand. "You have to buy the popcorn and drinks."

"Did you get here early too?" There are still twenty minutes before the movie starts, ten minutes before the time they'd agreed to meet in the theater.

"There wasn't that much traffic," Minseok says, even though Luhan knows that he'd walked here.

Luhan takes Minseok's free hand, the one that keeps tugging on the hem of his shirt. He ignores the look that Minseok gives him, staring straight ahead and trying to will away the nervous flutter in his stomach. It had been there earlier, too, when he was getting ready for the movie that they'd agreed to days ago, changing into and out of clothes until he’d decided on something casual. This shouldn't feel like anything different, but it's the first time they've agreed to something like this, setting up a time meant for the two of them alone.

Luhan only lets go of Minseok's hand when he's reaching for his wallet to pay. He glances at Minseok after he sets the money on the counter, but he's already a step ahead, reaching for the food.

"You can carry the drinks," Minseok says, nudging Luhan away when he tries to take a step closer.

The lights inside the theater are on when they walk in, almost unusually bright in a room that will melt into another world in a few minutes. Luhan nearly trips on one of the steps, almost losing his balance. Minseok's quick to catch him, though, placing a hand on the small of his back to steady him.

“Careful.” There’s unmistakable amusement in Minseok’s voice as he leads Luhan to a seat with a hand around Luhan’s arm. “Don’t fall over me just yet.”

Luhan nudges Minseok as he takes his seat, giving Minseok a look and getting a loud laugh in response. “Here.” He hands Minseok one of the drinks, as Minseok raises the armrest and sets the popcorn between them.

Luhan fidgets in his seat, waiting for the lights overhead to dim. He twirls his straw inside his cup, stirring the ice in his drink. Minseok leans over a moment later, taking the straw and drinking from Luhan’s cup. He looks up through the fringe falling into his eyes, blowing bubbles into the soda.

“You have your own drink,” Luhan says, laughing as he pushes Minseok away. They’re used to sharing water bottles after games, lips touching in the same place on the lip of the bottle, but this is different. This time, there isn’t the lazy adrenaline in their system after a game, the warm feeling that melts away the distance between them. This time, Luhan is all too aware of the warmth in his cheeks as Minseok grins at him before sitting back in his own seat.

“It’s not the same. You got grape soda.” Minseok takes a kernel of popcorn, holding it to Luhan’s lips.

Luhan could reach over and take a handful for himself, but he opens his mouth anyway, letting Minseok feed it to him. It’s almost unbearably sweet, the way that Minseok brushes his fingers along the bottom of Luhan’s lip to wipe away any remaining butter, and the taste of the popcorn in Luhan’s mouth.

Luhan breaks eye contact after a moment, looking down at the bag of popcorn. There’s no one else, just the two of them sitting in this row, and he can’t tell if it’s a good thing or not with how closely Minseok is watching him right now. He’s grateful when the lights overhead turn off, drowning the theater in a moment of darkness before the screen lights up.

He and Minseok had wanted to see this movie for a while, had been eagerly awaiting its release since they’d watched the trailer. It fulfills all of the promises in the trailer, the thrilling action and the unpredictable plot twists. Luhan tries to pay attention, staring intently at the screen, but it’s hard to do so when Minseok is right next to him.

They’ve gone to movies together, but it’s never been just the two of them. They’re the only ones in the row, so there’s no one watching them, no one snickering as Luhan reaches back and drapes his arm over Minseok’s chair. When Minseok doesn’t say anything after a few moments, Luhan lets out a soft exhale of relief. Just another few centimeters, and his arm would be around Minseok’s shoulders.

Luhan is still hesitant to take that last step, though. He’s wavering even now, the uncomfortable position sending tingles up his arm. Minseok notices after a while, raising an eyebrow as he half turns in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his expression almost unreadable in the semidarkness. The light from the movie screen reflects off his eyes, painting them a shocking blue color. He laughs as Luhan tenses, leaning back against the seat. “You could have just told me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Luhan mumbles, flinching a little as something explodes onscreen. He tries to refocus his attention on the movie, but he can still hear Minseok’s laughter beneath the sound of gunshots.

Luhan doesn’t catch as much of the storyline as he’d wanted to, getting lost somewhere in the intricate plot and Minseok’s presence next to him. The end of the movie seems to come too quickly, leaving him with too many speculations and unanswered questions.

The lights in the theater brighten slowly as the credits roll onscreen. Minseok stretches his hands over his head, turning to smile at Luhan. “How was it?”

“Not what I expected,” Luhan admits. He lets his arm fall from the back of the chair when Minseok stands. The sudden change in position makes his arm feel like it’s being pricked by dozens of needles, and he winces as he tries to shake it out.

Minseok’s laughing at him, his eyes alight with amusement. Luhan turns, opening his mouth to make a retort, but Minseok takes his hand then. He closes his mouth, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and follows Minseok out of the theater.

 

“Hey,” Minseok says, dropping down into the grass next to Luhan. “Your first time here? You look nervous.”

Luhan freezes in the middle of tying his shoes, looking up at Minseok. Then Minseok laughs, falling back into the grass.

“Got you,” Minseok says between gasps for air.

Luhan shakes his head, pushing Minseok away. “Not even close.” He’s laughing, too, though, and he joins Minseok as he lies back onto the grass. Minseok had caught him by surprise, though, his face unusually serious as he’d asked the question.

Minseok turns his head, and Luhan is surprised by how close they are. He can almost see his own eyes reflected in Minseok’s, can feel Minseok’s breath against his cheek. There’s a moment when Luhan loses himself in just looking at Minseok, when all he can feel is the warmness of the sun above and inside his chest. He forgets about everyone else around him, preparing for the first practice of the year. Minseok moves a little closer, and Luhan starts to close his eyes, but Minseok only taps him sharply on the nose. “You do look nervous,” he says, moving away and sitting up quickly.

“I don’t,” Luhan says, sitting up as well with a laugh. He reaches out to fix Minseok’s hair, pushing back a stray strand. He knows that it’ll get messed up in a few minutes, but he lets his hand linger anyway.

“You do,” Yixing says, walking up to them.

Luhan tilts his head back to give Yixing a betrayed look. “Do you even know what we’re arguing about?”

Yixing laughs, his eyes flickering to Minseok briefly before he looks back at Luhan. “About Minseok’s hairstyle?” he guesses, sitting down in the grass.

“Close,” Minseok says, holding out his hand for a high five.

Luhan frowns at Yixing for a moment before turning back to Minseok. “This kid should be nervous,” he tells Minseok, pointing a thumb in Yixing’s direction. “He’s the captain this year. The hotshot.”

It feels a little weird, coming out onto the field and not seeing Yifan with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning as he talks to the coach. Junmyeon would be by the door, calling everyone out to hurry so they could start on their exercises. The fact that they’d worked so well had been a combination of Yifan’s cold, unquestionable authority and Junmyeon’s warm, easygoing nature.

It hadn’t been much of a surprise when Yixing had been elected team captain. It was his third year on the team, and he had enough of a reputation that he could keep the team under control. He didn’t have quite as unapproachable of a front as Yifan had, but he also didn’t have as many unbearably cheesy inspiration quotes as Junmyeon did.

Junhyuk had been an unlikely candidate for vice-captain, though. This was only his second year on the team, and although he played pretty well on the field, he usually stuck close to his group of friends. In the past year that they’d been on the team together, Luhan hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him once.

Luhan wonders if Yixing had a talk with Junhyuk, though, since he is stepping up to the vice-captain position readily. He’s greeting the first years, the new members of the soccer team. Luhan nudges Yixing, gesturing at the crowd that Junhyuk is slowly gathering around him.

“You’d better watch out,” Luhan says. “He’s out to snatch your position as captain.”

Yixing laughs, but he gets up, brushing a strand of grass off of his shorts. “I was going to get to that, I just had to make sure my two troublemakers were well behaved at the beginning of the season.” He makes an “I’m watching you” gesture as he walks away, headed towards Junhyuk.

“Come on,” Minseok says, getting up and holding out a hand for Luhan. “Let’s set a good example for the kids.”

“Who, you?” Luhan returns, smiling as he takes Minseok’s hand. Minseok pulls him up with a little too much force, and Luhan stumbles, grabbing onto Minseok’s shoulder with his other hand to steady himself. They tilt dangerously for a moment, almost falling to the ground, but Luhan manages to regain his balance. He lets go of Minseok once his feet are firmly planted, exhaling slowly as he takes a step back. “In your dreams.”

“Get back here,” Minseok calls after him, as Luhan turns and runs towards the circle gathered around Yixing.

Yixing has already started counting by the time they join the circle, and Luhan quickly counts in his head to catch up. He reaches out to kick Minseok lightly as he starts another stretch, giving Yixing a bright smile when he fixes them with a look for causing so much noise.

It’s surprising, how far they’ve come since last year. Last year, Luhan had been alone in the field, hoping to be a part of the team. Now, he has Minseok by his side, and he’s close to most of the returning members on the soccer team.

“Let’s get a good start on this new year,” Yixing says, clapping his hands as he tells them to do their laps around the track. “Are you out of shape?” he asks, falling in step next to Luhan as they start running at the very front.

Luhan shakes his head. He can see Minseok just behind him, laughing and talking to Jongdae. “Not at all,” Luhan says, speeding up just a little to prove his point. “So what does it feel like, being captain?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t have your eyes on my position.” Yixing gives Luhan a mock stern glare that quickly dissolves into a grin. “Race you.”

Their pace is a little too fast for a warm-up jog, but Luhan finds himself laughing as he crosses the finish line with Yixing. He stumbles a little when Minseok finishes right after them and throws himself at Luhan, capturing him in a back hug. There’s a comfort in this, in seeing his teammates again after a long break and feeling Minseok’s warmth seeping into his skin.

 

“Are you going out?” Luhan’s mother asks, as Luhan finishes drying the last dish and grabs the keys to his motorcycle.

“Yeah.” Luhan pauses at the doorway, turning back to give her a hug. Her hands are still a bit wet as she pats his back, and he holds her a moment longer before stepping away. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises.

Luhan brings his books with him as he walks to his motorcycle. He’d agreed to a practice session with Minseok in the park, but he has a tutoring session right afterwards. It hadn’t been like this last year, when they could spend most of their weekends playing around. There’s still a year until their college entrance exams, but their workload is already starting to build up. The mock tests given monthly are no longer just friendly competition; they’re seen as indicators as to how well each student will perform on the college entrance exam, the only test that really counts.

They only have a few hours, but even a little time is better than none. Luhan takes all the shortcuts that he knows, driving through narrow alleyways and swerving dangerously around corners to get to the park as quickly as he can. He hurries to lock his motorcycle, but he still doesn’t get there before Minseok.

“That motorcycle is making you slow,” Minseok says, laughing as Luhan walks up to him.

“No, I’m just saving my energy,” Luhan says. “Let’s get started.”

The sun is already high in the sky, and the shade from the trees along the sidewalk isn’t enough to keep the heat away. Most of the people in the park are parents with their children in the playground or walking slowly along the path.

Luhan and Minseok keep to the inside of the path, swerving into the grass to avoid bumping into anyone. They start off at a steady, familiar rhythm, a pace that they’ve worked together to build in the past months.

“Are you going to the tutoring sessions this weekend?” Luhan asks, starting a small conversation as they finish their first lap.

“Probably tomorrow.” Minseok reaches up to push back the hair that’s falling into his eyes. “When are you going?”

“This afternoon.” Luhan turns away from Minseok for a while as they skirt past an elderly couple. “You should come too.”

“Maybe,” Minseok says. Their conversations are usually slower when they’re running, and Luhan waits for Minseok to continue. “You up for a game tonight? We haven’t gone up for ice cream in a while.”

“That’s because it was winter.” Luhan smiles, swallowing his laugh so he doesn’t waste too much breath and energy. “Yeah, sure. I’ll even give you a ride back on my motorcycle if you win.” He reaches out to push Minseok lightly when he gives Luhan a weird look. “I got better, okay? I haven’t died yet.”

Minseok shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything else as they keep running.

The rain starts off as a light drizzle at first, lightly enough that Luhan doesn’t even notice it at first. He brushes the first drop from his forehead, dismissing it as a drop of sweat. It’s not until the rain falls into his eyes that he looks up and realizes that it’s starting to pour more heavily. Around them, there are already people pulling out their umbrellas.

“Do you think we should stop?” Luhan asks, turning his head to look at Minseok.

Minseok tilts his head back, wincing as a drop of water lands on his face. “Let’s keep going,” he says, turning back to Luhan. “It can’t be that bad.”

There hadn’t been anything about rain this morning on the weather channel, but the rain doesn’t let up as they continue. If anything, it pours down even harder, until Luhan can barely see in front of him.

Putting a hand over his eyes does nothing to improve his visibility, and eventually, Luhan stops, putting an arm on Minseok’s shoulder to notify him on the change of pace. Minseok reacts quickly, dropping his speed until they’re both walking.

“Slow down,” Luhan says, brushing water from his eyes in a futile attempt to see clearly. “We’re only a few hundred meters from where I parked my motorcycle. You don’t want to miss it.”

“Is this your way of inviting me out for lunch?” Minseok asks. Luhan doesn’t have to look to know that there’s a teasing look in his eyes.

“No, because you’re paying.” Luhan reaches out to take Minseok’s hand. “Actually,” he begins, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

Minseok stops as well, raising his eyebrows like he’s asking, “What are you doing?”

Luhan hesitates, glancing down at their held hands. “I do want to take you out for lunch.” He glances up at Minseok, trying to gauge his expression, but he can’t really see anything. “I know we never made it official, but will you be my boyfriend? It’s not just because we’re soulmates,” he quickly adds. Because that feeling—the feeling of really knowing Minseok—hadn’t come from the first time he’d seen Minseok’s blue eyes. It had come from all the hours they’d spent together, working together until they really were a team rather than separate entities. “I really like you, and it’s not because—”

“I know,” Minseok says, cutting Luhan off midsentence. Luhan can see his smile now, can feel it against his cheek as Minseok steps closer and hugs him. “That’s a yes, you idiot,” Minseok tells him, stepping back when Luhan doesn’t respond, staring at him blankly. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

It takes a moment for Luhan to react. “Really?”

“Only if you win the race back,” Minseok says. He takes Luhan’s hand, holding on to it tightly as they run through the rain together.

 

Luhan can’t stop glancing at the scoreboard, looking between the neon numbers and the soccer ball. Chanyeol has it right now, and he barely manages to dodge two defending players from the opposite team.

Time seems to stand still as Chanyeol prepares for his shot. Just one more goal, and they’d win the championships. Luhan holds his breath, watching as Chanyeol draws his foot back. Substituting a first year into a game during the last few minutes had been a risky decision, but Chanyeol is good, and even as he kicks the ball, Luhan already knows—

The ball sails straight into the net, flying over the goalie’s outstretched hands by mere centimeters. Luhan thinks he screams then, letting out a loud exclamation of triumph. There’s already a crowd around Chanyeol as the whole team congratulates him for securing their win. Luhan finds Minseok in front of him, and he doesn’t hesitate before throwing his arms around Minseok. They’re both sweaty from the game, and Luhan’s throat is dry from how much he’d been screaming throughout the game.

That hardly matters, though, not when Luhan’s pulse is sounding so loudly in his ears as he looks at Minseok. “We did it,” he says, but he doesn’t quite believe it, not yet. The realization of what they’d just accomplished hasn’t quite sunk in yet, and Minseok smiles as he pats Luhan’s back.

“We did,” Minseok says, speaking directly into Luhan’s ear so he can be heard above the chatter around them. “Good job.”

Luhan remembers when the coach had given them an inspirational speech the year before, telling them that they were going for district championships. It had been nearly ten years since their school had last won. They’d barley managed to make it to the quarterfinals last year, but this year, they’d made it to the finals and now, they’ve won first place.

“You too,” Luhan says, grinning widely as he steps back. This accomplishment doesn’t just come from one exceptional player; it comes from all of the players on the field working together, functioning as one unit. Luhan looks over Minseok’s shoulder to look for Chanyeol and congratulate him.

Minseok is the first to step away, though, stiffening in Luhan’s embrace before pushing Luhan away. “Hey, Dad,” he says, but his tone is too tight, too controlled.

Luhan recovers quickly, turning to look at the man standing behind him. Minseok’s father is dressed in formal clothes, like he’d just gotten off of work, and there’s a hard set in his expression even as he says, “Congratulations on the win.” His accent is sharp, precise, and Luhan can’t quite look away. He’s never met Minseok’s father before, and this man certainly isn’t what he’d imagined Minseok’s father to be like. He’d thought that Minseok’s father would be someone warm and open, much like Minseok, not someone so cold.

“Thanks,” Minseok says, smiling a little as he bows his head.

Minseok’s father’s eyes turn to Luhan then, and Luhan finds himself standing a little straighter. He’s a few centimeters taller than Mr. Kim, and yet there’s something about his gaze that makes Luhan feel smaller than he really is. There’s a question in his dark eyes, a calculative frown on his lips as he looks at Luhan.

“Hi, I’m Luhan,” Luhan says, stretching out his hand and putting on as convincing of a smile as he can. “I’m Minseok’s friend—”

“He’s one of my teammates,” Minseok finishes, and quickly turns to his father. “Do you have to leave now, Dad?”

Minseok leaves without attending their team’s celebrations, and he doesn’t look at Luhan again as he follows his father off of the field. Luhan watches them for a moment before turning and walking towards Chanyeol, trying to forget about the encounter as he smiles and congratulates the first year for scoring the winning goal.

Usually, games, especially wins, leave Luhan feeling lightheaded for some time. This is probably the biggest win they’ve had in all the games Luhan’s participated in these past two years, but somehow, Luhan can’t quite bring himself to be happy about it.

Minseok calls later that night, just when Luhan is about to fall asleep.

“Hello?” Luhan says into the receiver, covering a yawn with the back of his hand.

“Luhan?” Minseok’s voice sounds unusually soft, and even though Luhan can’t see his expression, he knows that Minseok is probably troubled right now.

Luhan sits up, his tiredness suddenly forgotten. “Yeah, what’s up?”

It’s quiet on Minseok’s end for a long time, long enough that Luhan almost thinks that Minseok has fallen asleep, until Minseok says, “I told my dad about us.”

Luhan draws in a breath sharply. “Minseok, you didn’t—”

“I couldn’t hide it,” Minseok interrupts, speaking quickly like he’s being pressed to get the words out. “I had to tell him sooner or later, even though…” Minseok sighs, and Luhan’s hand tightens around his phone. “He doesn’t want me to be on the soccer team anymore. He thinks it’s too much of a distraction, and he doesn’t want you to see me anymore.”

“Minseok,” Luhan begins, but he can’t find the words quickly enough.

“I’m sorry. I tried to reason with him, but it’s just—” Minseok breaks off, and Luhan wishes that he was there next to him right now, that he could just hug Minseok.

“It’s okay,” Luhan says, smiling to try to keep his tone light. He’s not sure that he succeeds, though, and the smile strains at the edges of his lips. It’s not really okay, though. Luhan wants to be selfish, wants to tell Minseok to purposefully defy his father, but he knows that he doesn’t have the right. “I’ll still see you around, right?” he asks instead.

“Yeah,” Minseok says. His voice sounds too flat, like he isn’t really paying attention to what he’s saying. “I’ll see you.”

 

Luhan is bundled up in many layers, his beanie pulled low over his ears, and he’s even wearing two layers of socks, but he’s still cold. He shivers as he stands on the street next to his motorcycle, rubbing his gloved hands together in an attempt to warm them. Winter is unusually harsh this year, and he hopes that his hands won’t freeze in case he has to brake abruptly.

Maybe deciding to go out for a drive in this weather hadn’t been the best idea, but Luhan quickly dismisses the thought when he sees Minseok walking down the street.

“Hey,” Luhan calls, waving a hand as Minseok walks towards him.

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Minseok greets him. He looks smaller in his thick coat, like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible to conserve as much warmth as he can. It seems like he’s going to blow away with the wind, though, and Luhan pulls Minseok towards him.

“It’ll be warmer once we get moving,” Luhan offers, laughing when Minseok gives him a halfhearted glare.

“Whose brilliant idea was this again?” Minseok pushes Luhan lightly, indicating for him to start the motorcycle again.

The wind blasts in their faces when Luhan starts driving the motorcycle. Luhan squints against the wind, trying to focus on the road instead of how cold it is. Minseok is practically shivering from where he’s pressed against Luhan’s back, and Luhan is thankful for the warmth that Minseok provides, even if he can barely feel it.

“Careful,” Minseok says into Luhan’s ear when Luhan does a sharp turn around a corner.

Luhan retaliates by swerving in the road. There aren’t many cars around them, but he hears Minseok gasping loudly anyway, holding on a little tighter. “Having fun?” Luhan asks over his shoulder.

“See if I agree to come out with you next time.” Minseok rests his chin on Luhan’s shoulder, pressing their cheeks against each other. Luhan had forgone wearing his helmet, since they’re only going down a few alleyways. His mother would probably ground him if she found out, but he’s glad he decided to do so, since he can feel Minseok’s face right next to his and the warmth of Minseok’s breath against his cheek. “Your hat is so soft.”

Don’t move, Luhan wants to tell him. He tightens his grip around the handlebars of his motorcycle instead, and his laughter gets lost in the wind.

Minseok’s teeth are chattering by the time they arrive at the beach. Luhan throws an arm over his shoulders, almost thankful for the weather and the relatively empty beach when Minseok hugs him back instead of pulling away.

“I’m going to get sick,” Minseok says. The tip of his nose is red, and he snaps threateningly when Luhan tries to touch it. “We have a test this Friday.”

They should both be at home right now, preparing for the mock examinations. Luhan had spent the past weekend curled up in his bed under the thickest blankets he could find, reading through his textbooks for hours straight. It’s the most he’s ever studied, leaving him drained the next day, and he’s sure that he won’t be able to survive next year.

“I brought you out here to relax,” Luhan says. He steps away and walks closer to the edge of the beach. During the summer, it’s usually difficult to even find enough space to put up an umbrella and a towel. Right now, they seem to have the whole beach to themselves.

He stops just where the waves are hitting the shore, barely brushing over the toes of his sneakers before they recede again. Minseok pushes him when they come back again, not hard enough for Luhan to lose his balance. It’s enough to catch Luhan off guard, though, and he slips a few centimeters forward.

“Hey!” Luhan turns, but Minseok is already a safe distance away, laughing loudly. Luhan chases after him, catching him with a hand around his arm. He brings one of his hands up, arranging his fingers like he’s getting ready to flick Minseok’s forehead. Minseok flinches, bracing for the hit, but Luhan only fixes his hair, adjusting the stray windblown strands.

“Sorry.” Minseok shakes his head, messing up his hair again as he grins in a way that says he’s not sorry at all. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Luhan realizes that he’s been staring too long when Minseok’s smile drops, his expression turning serious like he’s expecting Luhan to do something. Luhan swallows, but he doesn’t say anything, just stares at Minseok. There’s something in the clear blueness of Minseok’s eyes and the set of his mouth, and Luhan doesn’t have the words to describe it.

Minseok ends up closing the distance between them, putting his hand on the back of Luhan’s neck. Luhan shivers at the cold touch, but he forgets it with the slide of Minseok’s lips against his. They’re slightly chapped, and Minseok is still trembling from the last gust of wind, but Luhan loses himself in Minseok’s arms, closing his eyes as Minseok moves a little closer.

“Feeling warmer now?” Minseok asks, smiling against Luhan’s lips before he pulls away.

Luhan blinks, feeling a little off balance. He sits down on the ground when Minseok laughs at him, drawing his legs to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. He’s smiling, though, and his cheeks are somehow burning.

“Sorry, you just looked so lost.” Minseok sits down next to Luhan, nudging him with his shoulder. “Come on, don’t get mad at me.”

“Not mad,” Luhan says, ducking his head and clearing his throat. “What about your dad?” He feels Minseok stiffen almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth. It almost makes him want to take them back, but this is a conversation that they’re going to have to have sooner or later.

“It’s not anything against you. It’s because… Your family doesn’t have that much money,” Minseok finishes in a rush, his embarrassment obvious in the way he’s not meeting Luhan’s eyes. “My dad—his family wasn’t very well off when he was growing up, and there were times when they had to depend on charity to get them through. He hated that, so he worked hard to make sure that I would never have to go through what he did.” Luhan hadn’t even noticed that Minseok was rich, not until he’d seen his father, seen the expensive watch around his wrist and the car that Minseok’s father drove when he picked Minseok up. It wasn’t something that Minseok had ever mentioned, and it hadn’t even mattered between the two of them until now.

Minseok picks up a handful of sand, letting the grains slip through from between his fingers. “He grew up with his soulmate, too, but he left her later, when he got into college and she didn’t. My parents don’t really love each other, but it’s just because…” Minseok breaks off with a laugh, the sound unusually sharp and bitter. “I’m sorry.”

Luhan wraps his arm around Minseok’s waist, resting his head on Minseok’s shoulder. It’s okay, he silently says with his actions, and he hears Minseok’s breath steadying, evening out like it does when he’s calming down after a long practice. “Is that why you quit soccer?”

“My grades were slipping.” Minseok puts a hand on Luhan’s knee, squeezing lightly and letting his hand rest there. “He wants me to focus on my studies so I’ll do well on the college entrance exams.”

It’s not unheard of for students to drop all extracurricular activities in favor for preparing for the test. Luhan had hoped that Minseok would still be on the team next year, so they could be co-captains, but maybe this is good enough. They can still play privately when they have time, and it’s not that difficult getting around Minseok’s father.

“I’ll wait for you,” Luhan promises. It feels so easy, so natural, to say those words with the limitless ocean before him and Minseok right next to him. Maybe it’s really just as simple as this, Luhan thinks, watching as the waves draw closer to the shore again and stop a safe distance away. Maybe they don’t need anything more.

 

The streets are eerily dark when Luhan parks his motorcycle and turns off the engine. There’s a lamp further down the street, but it only succeeds in casting shadows from so far away. Luhan almost wants to turn the engine back on, even if it means wasting gas, so that he’d at least have the headlights.

Luhan turns on his phone instead, dialing a number and bringing it up to his ear.

“Hello?” Minseok answers, sounding so tired that Luhan almost feels bad for waking him up.

“Hey.” Luhan twirls the strap of his helmet around a finger, cringing inside when he hears how loud his voice sounds in the empty alley. “I’m just a block away from your house. Do you want to come out?”

“Luhan,” Minseok says. There’s a hint of exasperation in his tone.

“I have something to show you,” Luhan quickly says. “Just come out, please?”

Minseok sighs, but Luhan can hear him shuffling in the background, and he knows that he’s getting out of bed. “Give me a few minutes.”

Luhan waits in the uneasy silence, almost expecting something to come at him out of nowhere. When he hears a noise behind him, he almost screams, but it’s only Minseok.

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” Minseok asks. He’s dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and his hair is messy, falling into his eyes as he looks at Luhan.

“There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight,” Luhan says, and even in the dim lighting, he knows that Minseok is rolling his eyes at him. “You’ve never seen one before, have you? It’s going to be exciting.”

“My dad is going to kill me if he finds out,” Minseok says, but he complies anyway, getting on the motorcycle after Luhan. He wraps his arms around Luhan, the embrace almost natural from how many times they’ve done this before.

Luhan’s mother would probably kill him, too, if she found out. It’s one thing to be out playing during the day, but another thing completely to go out at night, a time when criminals are known to be in the streets. He doesn’t have an official bedtime, but it’s still an unofficial agreement between both of them that after he’s brushed his teeth, he’s going to go straight to bed.

The beginning of the school year has been busy for both of them. They’re not in the same classes, and most days, it’s hard for them to see each other. They’ve gotten used to sneaking behind Minseok’s father’s back, but this is still the first time that they’ve been out so late. Luhan is a little terrified, but that makes the experience even more exciting.

He takes Minseok to the beach that they’d gone to before. It’s like they’re in a different world, the silence almost foreboding after Luhan cuts off the engine of the motorcycle.

Luhan hasn’t been here in a while, and he’s certainly never seen the beach like this. The moon is shining brightly overhead, reflected in the water. There are little pinpoints of light in the sky as well, although it’s hard to tell if they’re stars or satellites.

“Sit down.” Luhan doesn’t know why he’s speaking so softly, but it seems to fit the atmosphere around them.

Minseok sits down next to him in the sand, their backs to the motorcycle as they look up at the night sky. It’s been a while since Luhan has really gotten to look up at the moon, and he tries to memorize this exact feeling as a soft wind blows around them.

“So when is the meteor shower going to start?” Minseok asks, his voice barely above a whisper. There’s nothing accusing in his question, just simple curiosity, but Luhan shifts uncomfortably anyway.

“Be patient,” Luhan says, although he’d also been wondering the same thing. His neck is starting to hurt from being stuck in the same position for so long, but the more he stares at the sky, the less he wants to look away.

Luhan loses track of how long they spend waiting for the meteor shower. He hadn’t checked the time before coming out here, so he has no way of knowing when it’s supposed to come. They don’t ever get to see it, though, because it starts raining.

Minseok jumps up as the first droplets of rain hit them. “You don’t have an umbrella, do you?”

Luhan shakes his head. He usually keeps one with his motorcycle, but he hadn’t thought to bring it today. “We should probably get back.” He doesn’t want to leave yet, but the rain seems to be getting heavier. They can’t stay out here forever, and it’s not like they’ll be able to see the meteor shower with the rain.

“Are you sure you didn’t mix up rain shower with meteor shower?” Minseok asks, as Luhan pulls up outside of his house.

“I didn’t.” Luhan frowns, putting both feet on the ground to steady the motorcycle as Minseok gets off. “I saw it on the evening news.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see it next time.” Minseok smiles, remaining beside Luhan’s motorcycle even though the rain is pouring down on him. His bangs are sticking to his forehead, and Luhan reaches out to brush them away.

Just then, the front door to Minseok’s house opens, and Minseok’s dad steps out.

“What are you doing out there?” he calls, and Minseok quickly takes a step back.

Luhan drops his hand instead, smiling when Minseok apologizes. “I’ll see you,” he says. He doesn’t wait to watch Minseok make his way back towards his house, instead starting the engine and driving away.

Later that night, he receives a text from Minseok that simply says, I’m sorry about today. I didn’t think that would happen.

Really, Luhan should be the one apologizing for calling Minseok out, for taking him to see a meteor shower that hadn’t even happened, and for bringing him home too late. It’s okay, he replies instead, and he wonders how much longer they can keep believing that.

 

It’s late summer when Luhan gets a letter from his first choice college, informing that he’d not only gotten in, but he’d also gotten a partial scholarship. There’s still a lot that he has to cover for, but the money the school is offering him takes a lot of the burden off of him.

“Good job,” Luhan’s mother says, leaning over the table to read the letter. She looks up, seeming surprised that Luhan isn’t jumping up from happiness. “What’s wrong? Why do you look so sad lately?”

Luhan folds the letter neatly and slides it back into the envelope. It’s not just the realization that he’s graduated from high school that’s weighing so heavily. Graduation was two weeks ago, complete with celebration parties and a last team gathering to relive the old days. It’s not like they’re never going to see each other again. It’s just that Minseok—

Luhan had never gotten a chance to tell his mother exactly what had happened between him and Minseok. He doesn’t want her to blame herself for anything, since he’d never felt that he was lacking when he was growing up. She’s done her best in raising him alone, and his relationship with Minseok was something that neither of them could really control.

His mother is looking at him, though, waiting for him to explain. So Luhan does, telling her about Minseok’s father’s objections and how they’re going to colleges that are across the country from each other. They haven’t talked about it yet, haven’t discussed what this would mean for them, and Luhan is too scared to bring it up in a conversation. Dealing with it would make it real, and Luhan isn’t ready to take that jump just yet.

He’s always been close to his mother, and it’s easier to tell her about his worst fears. She listens without scolding him for everything he’s done wrong, taking in his words without interrupting him once. Luhan exhales slowly when he’s finished, staring down at the table. He feels calmer now, though, calmer than he had been when he’d first started. Maybe he’d just needed this—someone to tell his insecurities to, someone to tell him what to do.

“Don’t give up yet,” his mother says, when he’s finished speaking. “You still love him, don’t you?”

Luhan nods without hesitation. Of course he does; that hasn’t changed, no matter how long they’ve gone without seeing each other.

“You should tell him how you feel. Tell him how strongly you feel towards him. Don’t be afraid to lay your feelings on the table.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“You’ll know that you tried.” His mother smiles, and Luhan is amazed that, despite everything that she’s gone through, everything that hadn’t worked out well in her life, there’s still hope shining in her eyes.

Don’t give up, she’s always told him, and Luhan nods. He’s still scared, still uncertain, but he knows what he’s going to do next.

 

“Hello?” Minseok says the moment he picks up.

“Hey, Minseok?” Luhan winces at how weirdly his voice comes out. He holds the phone away from himself for a moment, clearing his throat before he continues, “How have you been?”

“Not bad, why?” Minseok’s always been more direct over the phone, especially since he can’t see Luhan’s expressions, having to rely only on his voice to know how to proceed.

“I got a scholarship.” This isn’t how Luhan had intended to start the conversation, but he continues quickly, “It won’t cover everything, but it will be enough so I won’t have to work as much. I’ll get a side job to cover all of the expenses, and I’ll try to save up enough money so that I can visit you over the breaks.” Luhan had written out what he was going to say beforehand and memorized the lines so he wouldn’t be reading off of them. He’s saying the lines backwards, but Luhan hopes that Minseok can understand him anyway.

“Visit?” Minseok repeats.

“Yeah. I know that we won’t be close to each other, but if we try—"

"Luhan, maybe we should stop," Minseok says.

Luhan stills, his fingers tightening around his phone. Minseok can't be saying what Luhan thinks he's saying. "Stop what?" he asks, his voice tight. He holds his breath because he doesn't want to know, but Minseok answers anyway.

"We can't keep this up forever. There's still so much out there that we haven't seen yet."

Luhan wishes that he could see Minseok, wishes that they were sitting across from each other in the same room. Minseok sounds too calm, too collected for the situation. "I love you," Luhan says, but it sounds like an excuse, like he's offering the words to Minseok as a sort of appeasement.

"I love you too." Minseok sighs, the puff of air barely audible over the phone. "But we can't keep this up forever."

Minseok sounds nothing like he had when he'd sat beside Luhan that day at the beach, promising that they'd be together no matter what. Luhan waits for a few moments, almost expecting Minseok to say that it was all a joke, that of course they could try. Minseok doesn't say anything else, though, and it occurs to Luhan that he's said everything that he needs to.

"Okay." It's the last word that Luhan wants to say, even if he can see the logic in Minseok's reasoning. He's tempted to beg Minseok to just try with him, argue that there's no reason why they can't stay together, but instead, he just says, "I'll see you around."

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Minhyuk asks, stepping into the bathroom. “What happened?”

Luhan leans a little closer to the mirror, staring at his reflection. “My eyes just started stinging.” He throws the tissue he’d been using into the trash, blinking a few times. “I’m fine,” he says, smiling at Minhyuk to back up his statement. “Come on, let’s go.”

Minhyuk frowns as he stares at Luhan. “Are you wearing contacts? I thought you had twenty-twenty vision.”

Luhan turns away, heading towards the door. “I do.” He doesn’t elaborate as he steps out of the bathroom. Minhyuk follows him without asking any more questions.

Luhan understands that Minhyuk is trying to do his job as team captain, but Luhan hasn’t talked about his past to even his closest teammates. It’s something that he wants to leave behind in the city, like the way he’d left several years ago. He hasn’t returned since then, but Luhan still feels like some part of him is left there, buried there forever.

No one really makes a big deal out of eye colors anymore. It’s something that kids and parents fuss over, but those are trivial matters that usually aren’t discussed on the field.

It still bothers Luhan, though, in all the ways that it really shouldn’t. He’s gotten used to wearing contacts that make his eyes appear to be a brown color, the way they had been before he’d met Minseok. He still remembers his mother’s hauntingly sad eyes, the way that the bright green color seemed to fade with each passing year. He can’t help thinking that it won’t be long before that happens to him, before the memories he has fade in his mind.

Luhan nearly forgets about his surroundings for a moment, lost in his thoughts. It’s only when he nearly trips down a step that he snaps out of it.

“Careful,” Minhyuk says, laughing as he steadies Luhan. “What’s wrong? Not even first years do that anymore.”

“Thanks.” Luhan regains his balance, looking back resentfully at the step. It’s just a little drop from their locker room out into the field. He hasn’t tripped over it in all his years here, so he doesn’t know why his muscle memory would fail him now. “How is practice coming?” Luhan asks, turning his attention back to the soccer field. It’s been a month since practice first started, and it won’t be long before they have their first game of the year.

“Not bad.” Minhyuk holds a hand over his eyes, looking out into the field. “I think our team’s pretty good this year. How’s your ankle doing?”

It’s been several months since Luhan had twisted his ankle, but Minhyuk still brings it up often. Luhan knows that it’s because this is the year that really counts, the year that talent scouts are going to be watching. He’s still somewhat annoyed, though, that Minhyuk only lets him play for so long in the field. Luhan has to come out to the field alone some nights to get more practice in. He’s gotten used to the dimness of the floodlights in the field, the uneasy silence at night. Sometimes, Luhan wishes that he could call someone out into the field to play with him, wishes that he could find someone who would be willing to match him step for step.

“It’s great,” Luhan says, knowing that he’d probably blanked out again from the way that Minhyuk is staring at him. “I think I should be worrying about my grades.” It’s tricky, balancing schoolwork with soccer, and Luhan knows that he’ll lose his scholarship if he lets them slip any more than they already are. It’s not like they’ll matter two, three years down the line, but for now, Luhan needs to stay in college. “Am I still on probation?”

Minhyuk frowns, stepping forward as he raises a hand to get the team’s attention. “You’re not on probation. I was thinking about splitting the team up for a mock game today. You up for being the captain of one of the teams?”

Luhan laughs, stretching to warm up his muscles as the team starts gathering around them. “Get ready to lose.”

 

Luhan gets up when the final score is announced, bracing himself as Baekhyun nearly knocks him over from the force of his hug. “Whoa, careful,” Luhan says, laughing as he sits down in his chair again. Like this, he’s almost eye level with the kid, who is still glowing from their win. He’s learned long ago not to underestimate kids, especially not ones like Baekhyun who seem to have a limitless amount of energy.

“We won,” Baekhyun says. His hair is falling messily into his eyes, and Luhan smiles as he fixes it for him.

“You did. Good job.” Luhan is almost surprised by the amount of pride he feels just from looking at Baekhyun. It’s been so long since he’d last felt the thrill of the game firsthand, so long since he’d last been genuinely interested in the ever-changing stats of professional soccer players. He’s thankful he still has the chance to relive the thrill through his own students.

“It’s thanks to you.” Luhan looks up to see Baekhyun’s mom standing behind him. She’s frowning at the grass stains on Baekhyun’s shirts, and Luhan offers her an apologetic smile. “We never even thought that he would make the team, much less love it as much he does now.”

“Must not be a good thing,” Luhan jokes, grinning as she shakes her head at him.

“Definitely not.” She smiles, taking Baekhyun’s hand when he starts to get nervous. “Thank you for teaching him,” she says, inclining her head.

“It’s my pleasure,” Luhan says, and he truly means those words. Ten years ago, he would never have imagined being in this position, but now, he can’t imagine having a better job. This is something that he genuinely enjoys and looks forward to doing, spreading the love for the game into young, excited children. “Baekhyun’s a good kid.”

“See you, Mr. Lu.” Baekhyun turns to wave at Luhan before walking away with his mother.

Luhan watches them go, sees the excitement in the way that Baekhyun is walking. He knows that Baekhyun is probably starting to talk about the game already, bragging to his mom about how well he’d done, even though she had probably been filming him on her phone the whole time.

“Excuse me, are you Luhan?”

A soft voice interrupts Luhan’s thoughts, and Luhan looks down to see a young boy staring up at him. “Yes, I am. What can I do for you?”

“You’re really Luhan?” The boy’s eyes widen, like he doesn’t quite believe Luhan. “Like, the professional soccer player?”

Luhan is too surprised to speak for a moment. It’s been so long since anyone has referred to him by that title. He’d stopped playing years ago, when another injury to his right ankle had put him out for good. Luhan had only played for two years on the team anyway, hadn’t done anything major to still be remembered all these years later.

He wonders how this young kid knows about him as he replies, “Yes, that’s me.”

“Can you sign this for me?” the boy asks, holding out a T-shirt and a pen.

Luhan takes both of the items, unfolding the carefully folded T-shirt. He’s surprised when he sees his number written on the back, the insignia of the team he used to play for across the bottom. As far as he knows, no one’s had his number since he’d left, and Luhan doubts that they still produce and sell his particular shirt. Luhan hasn’t given out his signature in a long time, and he’s doesn’t remember ever seeing this much excitement in someone’s eyes just from getting his signature.

“Thank you,” the boy quickly says, before turning around and shouting, “Dad, I got his signature!”

“That’s great,” his dad says, and Luhan’s laughter dies abruptly in his throat.

His first thought is instant denial because there’s just no way that’s who he thinks it is. But there’s also no way he could forget that particular voice, even if it’s been ages since he’d last heard it.

Luhan looks up slowly, almost forgetting how to breathe when he meets the man’s eyes. “Minseok?”

Minseok nods, waving somewhat awkwardly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

There are so many things that Luhan wants to say, but he’s aware that this probably isn’t the best time, the best circumstance, to say them. In fact, he might never have a chance to say them at all, and Luhan’s come to accept it. He knows, though, that there shouldn’t be this much tension between the two of them, not when they’d been the closest of friends once. “Is this your kid?” Luhan asks instead, quickly changing the subject.

“Yeah.” The smile on Minseok’s lips is one of unmistakable pride, and Luhan is surprised by the odd feeling in his chest that follows. It’s fainter than it had once been, of course, but it’s still there. “His name is Jongin. I don’t believe you properly introduced yourself, Jongin.”

“Oh, right!” Jongin quickly bows, his expression so serious that Luhan has to hold back a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jongin.” He pauses, glancing briefly at Minseok, before saying, “I’ve seen all of your videos. My dad showed me all of them, and I’m a really big fan of your playing.”

Luhan looks up at Minseok, thrown off by Jongin’s statement, but Minseok is staring fondly at Jongin. “Thank you,” Luhan says. “I haven’t played in a long time, but thank you.” He spends most of his time coaching these days, and although he’s played informally a few times with his friends, it’s been a while since Luhan had last touched the cleats under his bed.

“Really? You should play with my dad sometime. I’d love to watch.”

Minseok laughs, ruffling Jongin’s hair. “We should get going, Jongin. Mom’s already waiting for us.”

Mom? Luhan wants to ask, but instead, he tells Jongin, “If you’re interested, you should try out for the team next year. We’d love to have you.”

“I will,” Jongin says.

“He’s already practicing for it,” Minseok tells Luhan, shaking his head almost wistfully. “He has big dreams for such a little kid.” He ignores Jongin’s protests as he says, “It’s great seeing you again. We should catch up later.”

“Later,” Luhan echoes, watching as Minseok leads Jongin away.

Jongin pauses when they’re a few dozen steps away, turning to wave at Luhan. Luhan smiles as he waves back, and it’s then that he notices that Jongin’s eyes are a bright blue, just like his father’s.