He was a prisoner in his own home.

No, Luhan corrected himself immediately. This wasn’t his home. His home was back in Korea, a tiny but homely apartment with his paints and his pictures and his forever visiting friends. Home was not a secluded estate in the countryside with white walls, echoing halls, and distrust in every corner. Home was not a prison cell.

But it was where he was now.

It was where he’d been for six days, ever since the frightful realization that his parents had tricked him into coming back to China, and then stolen the freedom and independence that he’d worked so hard to achieve for himself.

One more time Luhan gave another look around the bedroom he hadn’t slept in since high school. It was just as bare and lifeless as he remembered, with rows of reference books on black shelves, a laptop on a desk that wouldn’t work now even if he wanted it to, and all the items that provided the illusion that it was the room belonging to a intelligent, hard working student. It was the room his parents had wanted for him, devoid of the art that made his soul so happy.

Perched on the edge of the bed, Luhan let his toes dig in to the plush carpet. The room was stifling. It was suffocating. It was robbing him of his sanity.

But it was still better than walking the lonely cold halls of the house.

In the beginning, just days after realizing he was virtual prisoner in the house, Luhan had scouted relentlessly for a way out. But there were people mucking around everywhere, including his father’s security force, the hired help, and most importantly, Wei. Wei was at the house every day, attempting to engage him, offering him warm smiles and deceivingly kind words. No matter what door Luhan tried to slip out through, and regardless that he had no way to get the long way into town, every attempt was thwarted.

He wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until he agreed to his parent’s terms.

Said terms had been made explicitly clear to him as well.

His father, stern faced and looking harsher than Luhan remembered, had said to him over breakfast, “There’s nothing to be done until we send that thing back to Korea.”

That thing. The baby. Luhan had hunched protectively over his daughter at those words. His baby wasn’t even a person to his parents, merely an obstacle. And it was one they couldn’t wait to get rid of.

For Luhan, the idea of being separated from his baby was enough to imagine what it felt like to have his heart ripped out. She was moving more and more frequently now, restless with her lack of space as the days ticked by. But already Luhan was learning her personality. She loved sweet things, hated spicy, and most certainly was a night owl. She reacted favorably to noise, in particular soothing voices and music, but detested anyone rubbing too harshly against Luhan’s stomach.

She was unique and interesting and Luhan loved her like he breathed, so damn easily.

If his parents took her from him, like they planned to, Luhan wasn’t sure he’d have much left to live for.

After his father’s brash words, his mother had tried a bit more diplomatically, “You were always meant to marry Wei, Luhan. There’s a reason the two of you were put together so frequently as children. Naturally you can’t marry him until you deliver, but afterward you’ll be free to do so.”

Wasn’t that a load of it.

There was nothing freeing about the idea of being forced to marry someone he didn’t love, not when Sehun was lurking in his heart, and not when refusing to do so meant that Luhan was going to be cooped up in a home he had no love for like a prisoner. Maybe for years and years.

In the eyes of his parents, their offer was a just one. If Luhan married Wei, and immediately began taking an interest in his father’s company, he’d be able to leave the house and resume a normal life. They thought Wei was a good choice. They didn’t care that Luhan felt utterly betrayed by the man he’d once called a friend.

A sharp knock on Luhan’s bedroom door was the only preface to Wei’s head poking in. As always he was clean shaven, friendly and cautious as he moved into Luhan’s space.

“Do you live here now?” Luhan asked flatly, keeping a secure hand on his stomach.

“I don’t,” Wei said cordially. “But your father has been like family to me all these years. I often come for meals. You’d know that if you bothered to leave this room more than once every couple of days.”

With a huff, Luhan looked away and to the window. There was nothing but blue skies to see, and the color felt like a taunt. “This is your eighth attempt to lure me out of my room for a meal. What are you having trouble understanding? Am I not speaking clearly enough?”

“You know, Han,” Wei said, leaning casually on the door, “It wouldn’t kill you to come to a family meal. You haven’t been to once since that first morning.”

Luhan demanded, “And what meal was that? Oh, it was the meal where my parents told me I had to give my baby up, marry you, and only then would I be allowed out. Forgive me if that wasn’t the best meal of my life.”

He’d been taking his food in his rooms since then, wary of his wildly fluctuating blood sugar and the stress that coming to China had brought upon him. More than once he’d felt some cramping in his stomach and panicked spectacularly.

“I’ve got a deal for you.”

Luhan glanced away from the window and back at him. “I’ve got a suggestion for you. Go to hell.”

Wei pressed on, as if Luhan had barely spoken. “I know you want to get out of here. These same walls must be driving you crazy. If you come to breakfast now, and dinner later tonight, we’ll take a stroll around the grounds together.”

“Endure my parents so that you can walk me like a puppy?” Luhan rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass. Or better, come back when you have something more substantial to offer.”

That wouldn’t happen. His parents weren’t willing to risk him getting out and contacting anyone for help. Though really, Luhan wasn’t sure anyone could help. His parents were staggeringly influential. Not to mention the first things his parents had taken from him, before he’d even realized what was happening, were both his passport and his work visa. He couldn’t leave China without one, and he couldn’t get back into Korea without the other. There was no where for him to go, and no one to help him.

Everything felt so tragic.

“You know I can’t do better than that,” Wei said.

Luhan shrugged. “Then you can tell the cook I’ll take my breakfast in here. Go away, Wei. I have nothing more to say to you.”

Eyes softening, Wei reminded, “We were really good friends when we were kids, Luhan.”

“That’s right, friends.”

“You didn’t think for a second that our parents weren’t going to arrange something between us? I’m the heir to my family, and you’re the same for yours. The merger of our two families through our marriage would benefit everyone. Luhan, I understand that you think it’s not fair for your feelings, but this is just business. It’s not about feelings at all.”

Luhan repeated himself, “Go away. And take with you your condescending bull, because I am never going to marry you. Never. I would rather sit in this prison and rot a million years. Think that over.”

It would destroy Luhan to be parted from his baby, but if it came to it, she’d be safe with Sehun. Sehun would care for her and love her and he’d be the best father in the world. Sometimes Luhan looked at Sehun and thought that the man doubted himself. But Luhan had never doubted Sehun, and if he raised their daughter alone, she’d grow up to be beautiful, healthy and happy.

With a sigh, Wei nodded. “Alright. I’ll tell your parents.”

He closed the door softly and Luhan flung a nearby pillow at it harshly. The soft object bounded gently to the floor, but for a second it had felt good.

Rolling himself up to his feet Luhan made his way to his closet and pulled the doors open. Pushing aside hangers he reached towards the back with some effort and shoved down on the wall until he heard a soft clicking sound.

When he’d been fourteen, finding the hidden room behind his closet had been the best moment of his life thus far. The narrow passageway, found by complete accident, led to a space that could barely be called a room, but had come to be Luhan’s special place over the years. It was a secret room that allowed him to be himself and be free, while keeping his bedroom as the kind of illusion it needed to be.

Now Luhan peered into the room, hitting the light switch just inside the passageway. With his stomach as big as it was now, getting into the room was going to be downright impossible, but he could still stand in his closet and look. He could see the paints he’d smuggled into the house, the sketchbooks in the corner, and all the evidence that he’d discovered who he was in the room, and not who he was supposed to be.

Luhan ducked out the closet a second later. It was too dangerous to risk looking for more than a second. People had an unfortunate habit of barging into his room now, no doubt to keep him under surveillance.

Briefly, Luhan thought about the one supervised call he’d been allowed to recieve from Sehun. He’d tried to code it with as many hidden messages as possible, and he could only hope that he’d conveyed his situation. It was hard to tell, however, because Sehun had sounded upset, but resolved on the phone. Had he really understood what Luhan had been saying, or had it all been for nothing?

Six days Luhan had been in China, and two days since the call. It wasn’t that Luhan thought it was possible for Sehun to get a message to him, but Luhan’s hope was fading fast.

Breakfast, a fruit medley and warm oats, was taken in his room like always, the silence of the space his only companion. Constant checks to his blood sugar made him long for his doctor and how comfortable she made him feel, and dread the idea that a doctor he didn’t know or trust was going to handle his baby.

It was unexpected that just a few hours later another knock came to his door and Wei was back once more.

“You just can’t get enough, can you?” Luhan asked. This time, he decided, he’d throw a shoe.

Wei wasted no time in saying, “You wanted a better deal. I come with your request.”

Luhan’s fingers curled around the nearby footwear.

Wei said, “Your parents want to see you show some effort. If you start coming to meals, acting respectfully, and show some initiative with your father’s company, they’re supportive of the idea of rewarding you.”

Luhan’s eyes narrowed. “In which way?”

“There’s a town nearby,” Wei said. “This time of year, every Sunday in the afternoon they hold a huge outdoor market. You behave for your parents, and I’ll take you there.”

There was no way that was an offer on the table. It was so confounding that Luhan had to ask skeptically, “And what’s to stop me from going running into the hills? I know that’s what my parents think I plan to do every second of every day.”

“Beijing,” Wei supplied, “is forty minutes away. I doubt you could run four minutes, in your condition. And, like I said, I’ll be with you the whole time. A lot is ridding on my shoulders to make this merger happen, so trust that I’m not going to let you out of my sight for a second.”

Luhan leaned back on his bed and questioned, “You’re really okay with this? You’re okay with doing this to me? It doesn’t bother you that you and my parents are trying to force me into something that is going to hurt me? You’re that kind of man?”

“I’m a desperate one,” Wei corrected, and Luhan had no idea what he meant by that. “Unlike you, Han, I put my family first. I’m willing to do something I don’t want to, in order to honor and respect them. What kind of man are you not to do the same?”

Luhan shook his head. “Those people are not my family, Wei.”

“Think about the offer,” Wei said, pulling the door behind him. “Today is Friday. The market is on Sunday.”

The terrible thing was, Luhan was absolutely certain that Wei had known he’d jump at the deal, long before it was even offered.

For the next two days Luhan pretended he was an actor. He pretended that he was some glamorous American movie star in Hollywood, working on his next big project. The role? A pious and dutiful son. Motivation? Hatred for said parents and a thirst for freedom. The payoff? Escape.

His parents weren’t buying for a second, Luhan wasn’t stupid, but oddly enough, as Sunday came around, so did a car with a driver and Wei in the backseat.

As they drove along to the market, Luhan rolled down the window, rested his arms on the ledge and turned his head up towards the sun. The warmth beat down on his skin and he was able to block out everything with his imagination. And he was certainly imagining himself anywhere else, without Wei in tow.

The market was bustling with life, hundreds of stalls crammed into one place, people pushing through each other, bumping and chatting, and not even the slightest bit aware that Luhan was in trouble.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Wei said, pulling at his arm a little painfully as they walked towards the first venders. No one will help you if you ask for it, and you won’t get far if you try to run. Don’t make your parents regret allowing you to be here.”

Luhan tugged his arm back harshly, barking out, “Gee, Wei, I wouldn’t want to disappointed them. That would just break my heart.” Then he spied a stand of cherries and made a beeline for it.

The best and most redeeming part of the market was that Luhan’s pregnancy actually aided him for once. He couldn’t carry much, and lifting any kind of weight was out of the question. That meant that whatever Luhan bought, and he was trying his best to spend as much of his parent’s money as possible, Wei had to carry.

Luhan was eyeing the watermelons next.

But it was just as he was passing a grouping of venders selling bright yellow and wonderful smelling lemons, that Luhan staggered a bit. His feet twisted up under him and Wei lunged to catch him, demanding, “Han? Are you okay?”

Luhan could barely enough air in through his clenched teeth. That was … he was absolutely certain he’d seen Sehun.

But that wasn’t possible. Sehun was back in Korea, quite possibly preparing to cut Luhan from his life completely. How could Sehun be anywhere near China?

“I need to sit down,” Luhan said shakily, and he wasn’t faking the way his knees wobbled.

There was a nearby foodcourt area that Wei led him to, and then eased him down on to a bench.

“You’re all red in the face,” Wei observed. “Are you feeling well? Too hot?”

Luhan honestly felt the opposite. There was such a chill running through him as his eyes darted around almost frantically, searching for the familiar, impossible face.

Then …

There!

Luhan saw him again, just behind the lemons, tall and handsome and wonderful in his presence.

Sehun started back and Luhan took a moment to register that Wei was touching his face.

“Careful,” Wei said as Luhan jerked back. His thumbs brushed across Luhan’s cheeks and it was only then that he realized he was crying. “I think we should go home.”

“No!” Luhan shouted, and it was too frantic, too loud, and probably too obvious. But he had to find a way to make contact with Sehun. If he went back to the house, Sehun would be as good as gone.

“Han?”

“I just need some water,” Luhan said, fanning himself with his hand. “It is too hot. Could you get me some water?” He pointed deliberately to the long line of people waiting at the nearby drink stall.

Wei offered hand to him. “Okay, up you go.”

“I’m lightheaded,” Luhan complained, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. “Go get a bottle of water for me, please. I’ll be right here. I won’t move.”

Wei gave him a blank stare, and Luhan found himself holding his breath.

Eventually, Wei reminded, “If you try to run--”

Luhan gave a loud, deliberate sigh. “I’m in the middle of nowhere. Where could I go? Who would help me? Wei, go get me some water. Then we can buy a couple more things and go back. Unless you want to head back to the watermelon stand I saw on the way in. You look like you could carry at least two, maybe three.”

It was seconds more before Wei was heading to the water stall.

Sehun dared to move closer and Luhan launched himself off his feet, heading towards him as quickly as he could. But he stopped prematurely at a stand of lemons, squeezed a few and then looked over his shoulder towards Wei.

Like Luhan’s parents, Wei wasn’t stupid either. He had a murderous look on his face, but he hadn’t moved out of line. Luhan gestured at the fruit, flashed Wei an okay signal, and then turned away.

“Luhan,” Sehun’s rumbling and downright symphonic voice said.

Just a moment later Sehun was standing next to him, doing his best to look like he was merely doing the same as Luhan, hunting for the best fruit.

“What are you doing here?” Luhan asked. Then his voice cracked as he added, “I’m so happy to see you. God, Sehun, how are you here? Please don’t let me be dreaming.”

“You’re not,” Sehun said, eyes locked on the fruit. “I knew you were in trouble.”

“It’s my parents,” Luhan said quickly. He had mere minutes before Wei was back. “They tricked me. My father isn’t sick. He’s perfectly fine. But they’ve taken my passport and work via. And until now, they didn’t let me leave the house. I’ve got a watchdog even now.”

“That over there?” Sehun asked, then reached for a bag to place his fruit in. “You just give me the word; I can take him.”

“No,” Luhan whispered. “I think … I don’t think he’s the only one watching me. I think there’s someone else, too, I just haven’t been able to spot them. Sehun, my parents want to force me to marry Wei. They want to take my baby from me. I don’t know how to get away. I don’t know how you can help.”

Sehun handed some money over to the vender. “Don’t worry. I’ve got some inside help. You just take care of our girl, and I’ll do the rest. I promise, I’ve got a plan.”

“Sehun,” Luhan said, unable to keep from looking at him.

Sehun’s eyes were hazel colored and filled with so much affection that Luhan nearly swayed again. “I can’t believe you came for me.”

Sharply, Sehun said, “I will always come for you. For the both of you. Never doubt that.”

“Sehun … I …”

“Can you get out of the house again?” Sehun asked sharply, rushing the words out. “I’ve been watching that place or days now, and this is the first time I’ve had a chance to get near you. I need you to trust me and get yourself out of that house one more time, and soon. Can you do that?”

Sehun made Luhan feel like he could do anything. “I’ll get it done.”

Sehun flashed him a grin, then he was bounding off, brushing past a returning Wei who was seemingly none the wiser.

“I …” Luhan trailed off.

He was even more sure of how much he loved Sehun in that moment.

“Here,” Wei said, handing him a wet bottle of water that was icy to the touch. “I thought you were going to stay right over there.”

“I thought you wanted to go,” Luhan said, giving the vender his money and holding up a bag full of fruit. “I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. These are the last things I wanted to get. Complaints?”

“Just do as I say next time,” Wei said, and then they were setting off towards the car.

It took all the willpower in Luhan not to look for Sehun as they left. Sehun had said he had a plan. He wanted Luhan to trust him. Luhan was not going to risk blowing Sehun’s cover in any way.

But he had to leave the house again. That was the only thing Sehun had asked from him, and Luhan was not going to let him down. Luhan just didn’t know how he was going to manage it.

Well, he did, but it was a supremely bad idea, and it meant risking his baby in a way that he wasn’t sure was worth the payout in the end.

“If we do this,” he said to his stomach that night, lying in bed as the moon shone down into the room, “if I do this, it could end badly for us.” Forever a nighttime baby, she was rolling around in him apparently, active and wide awake. “I don’t want to risk you in any way, baby, but if I don’t do this, your daddy may not be able to help us.”

When her foot thudded against Luhan’s kidney, he wasn’t sure what to think. He only knew one thing, and was that his parents weren’t going to let him leave the house anytime soon unless it was an emergency. Luhan was going to have to manufacture an emergency.

When Luhan pulled himself to dinner two nights later, his feet dragging, head pounding and joints aching, it was two days after his last attempt to regulate his blood sugar levels.

“What’s wrong with you?” his mother asked, eyeing him over the rim of a generously filled wine glass.

“I don’t feel well,” Luhan said, and he knew he looked it. He’d certainly toyed with the idea of faking a severe drop in his blood sugar levels, but he had no doubt his parents would require some kind of proof before they believed him. They’d have to see for themselves. “I think …”

“The child?” his mother asked, and that seemed to catch his father’s attention.

Naturally, Luhan assumed, he was worth nothing to them or the family if he was to die during childbirth or before.

Slumping into the chair, Luhan said, “I think it’s my blood sugar. I missed a dose.”

His mother snapped at a nearby staff member to fetch his glucose meter just as Wei appeared for dinner. It was Luhan’s hope that none of them would understand that simply missing one dose on accident of his medication wouldn’t cause the predicament he was in currently.

“What’s going on?” Wei asked eyebrows pulled in a worrying frown as the meter appeared and Luhan pricked his finger to draw the blood.

Luhan steadied himself, then as the number flashed on the screen, said, “I need to go to the hospital. Now.”

“Please,” his father scoffed.

“Do you know what this number means?” Luhan asked, hand shaking as he turned the device towards his father. “I need to go to the hospital. It’s too low. I … this is a serious matter.”

Wei, surprisingly, spoke up, saying, “It is. My cousin is diabetic. If Luhan thinks he should go to the hospital, for the sake of his health, then he should. I’ll take him personally.”

Luhan bit back a groan. The last thing he needed was Wei coming with him. Still. He couldn’t exactly afford to be picky.

“Can you take me?” Luhan asked, trying to sound as little as a threat as possible.

“Take him,” his mother said eventually. “Call us if we should be there.”

Luhan was certain that meant if he was in danger of dying.

Luhan wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or not that they were headed directly towards Beijing, and not for a more rural doctor in the area.

And an hour later Luhan was tucked into a private room, his blood sugar stabilizing, and his nerves evening out. Wei had left to fill out some paperwork and Luhan was debating the merits of making a run for it regardless of his condition.

At least until Sehun slipped into the room, a white doctor’s coat across his shoulders.

Still a little loopy from the medication running through him, Luhan took one look at Sehun and declared, “You’re the most handsome doctor I’ve ever seen.”

Sehun all but raced to Luhan’s side, demanding, “Are you okay? Is the baby? I said get yourself out of the house, not put yourself in the hospital!”

Sehun’s hand was nearby and Luhan reached for it, careful of the IV protruding from the back of his hand. “It was the only way.” It felt so good to touch Sehun again. “They wouldn’t let me leave for anything less than a medical emergency.”

“Luhan,” Sehun said worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Luhan sighed out. “Hey, why do you have a doctor’s coat on?”

Luhan got his answer seconds later when Sehun began pulling Luhan up, the clothing that Luhan had worn to the hospital already in his hands. “Come on,” he said. “That guy who’s always hovering around you won’t stay gone forever, and he may not be the only pair of eyes around. Are you okay to travel? We need to leave immediately.”

Luhan pinched the IV in his arm carefully and slid the needle out. “I can go. Can you get my shoes?”

With Luhan sitting on the edge of the bed, Sehun knelt in font of him and gently slipped the first shoe on, saying lowly, “I want to kill those bastards for what they’ve done to you.”

“Sehun.” Luhan reached out, his fingers brushing into Sehun’s soft hair. “I know you said you would come, but I … I just can’t believe you’re here.”

Shoes on, Sehun stood up quickly, one big hand against Luhan’s stomach and the other at the curve of Luhan’s jaw. “We’re family, Luhan.” That looked to be answer enough.

As Luhan was trying to steady himself, still a little off from his dangerously low blood sugar level, Sehun retrieved his chirping phone and placed it to his ear. He cracked Luhan’s door open and peered out into the hall. Then the call ended and Sehun reached back for Luhan.

With Luhan’s hand tucked safely in Sehun’s, he almost felt invincible.

“We need to move now,” Sehun said, and he jerked Luhan so quickly that it was startling.

“Where are we going?” Luhan asked, his legs feeling like they were blurring from moving so fast.

“Airport,” Sehun said quickly. “There’s a flight to Korea that leaves in just under an hour. We can get on it if we hurry. If we miss it we’ll go directly to the Korean embassy and wait there until the next flight tomorrow.”

“The embassy?” Luhan echoed, having to slow significantly as they reached a back stairwell.

Sehun continued, “Yeah, it’s here in Beijing. We can hide out there if we have to.”

“But I’m not a Korean citizen,” Luhan said.

“No,” Sehun said, his fingers tightening on Luhan’s hand. “But our baby is. Me being Korean means that our baby has Korean citizenship. And because you’re carrying our baby right now, that extends to you regardless of whether you have a visa or passport on you. At least that’s what Lay told me his parents had worked out the last time I talked to him. It’s not the first time someone’s tried to use a pregnancy to gain access to Korea without proper documentation, and it wasn’t easy to get you a pass on all that red tape, but Luhan there shouldn’t be any problem getting into Korea right now, not as long as I’m with you.”

And Sehun wasn’t going anywhere. That part Luhan heard loud and clear.

One flight of stairs bellow them a door crashed open and Luhan froze in terror. There was no way he could outrun Wei if they’d been caught, and who knew who would win in a fight between Sehun and Wei. Wei was bigger, but Sehun was more determined. Still, they were pretty evenly matched.

“It’s okay,” Sehun said kindly. “That’s my accomplice.”

The person in question was a tall, attractive woman who told them sharply, “I have a car waiting in the parking lot. We have to go quickly.”

Then it was a rush even more frantic than before as they tore through the hospital reception area, through the double sliding doors in the front, and to the nondescript Honda parked not too far away.

Breathing hard in the backseat thirty seconds later, Luhan gave a frightful look back to the hospital as they pulled away.

“When he discovers I’m gone,” Luhan eased out, “he’s going to …”

“Nothing,” Sehun said from beside him, and then jerked an arm around Luhan’s shoulders for good measure. “He’s going to do nothing, and we’re going home.”

Home. Home to Korea.

Luhan pressed his face into Sehun’s shoulder and tried to calm his heartbeat.

“Luhan?” Sehun asked, fingers drifting through the short hair at his nape. “It’s okay. I swear it’s okay now. We’re going to be okay.”

Of course he was crying. That was perfect. Luhan had never felt his emotions so out of control before, not even comparable to his four and fifth months where the tiniest things had made him cry. He’d cried over a spilled box of cereal once.

“I’m just …” Luhan said, “I’m just so thankful to have you.”

Sehun’s forehead pressed against his and Luhan could see those expressive hazel colored eyes once more. “Didn’t I tell you we’re family? Family is there for each other at the worst of times, not just the best.”

His nose stuffing up immaturely, Luhan drew back and palmed at it. “I thought I was going to be stuck in that house forever, because I was never going to agree to be my parent’s little puppet. I thought I’d never see you or my friends again, and that when I had the baby that they’d take her from me.”

Sehun’s hand went quickly to Luhan’s stomach, the baby kicking in response. “No one is going to take our girl from us.”

Inhaling deeply, Luhan admitted, “Even if I lost her, I told myself, I knew that she’d be okay, because you were going to have her. I knew you’d protect her and take care of her. That was the only thought that got me through some of that time.”

“You’re not making it any less difficult to not want to turn this car around and go confront your parents. Or that I saw grab you at the market.”

Eyebrows high, Luhan asked, “You saw that?”

For the first time from the front seat, the woman spoke up. In clipped but fairly fluent Korean, she said, “We located you almost initially. We were forced to watch the house, however, waiting for you to leave before we could act.”

Luhan admitted, “I wasn’t sure if you understood my message.”

Sehun surprised him by saying, “Xiumin and I knew something was wrong before then. He would have been here with me if his passport renewal had come through fast enough.”

“You and Xiumin worked together on something?” Luhan asked flatly. Then he cracked a smile. “Stop telling me lies to make me feel better.”

Sehun chucked. “No, really, since you’ve been gone Xiumin and I decided to be best friends.”

“I can live with that,” Luhan said, tipping his head back onto Sehun’s shoulder. “As long as I’m family.”

“Always,” Sehun swore, and then they fell to silence.

At the airport Luhan finally learned the woman’s name, Yiru, as she handed Sehun the important paperwork that would allow Luhan to leave the country. Then she gave a brief parting and slipped back into the car.

“We can still make our flight,” Sehun said, taking Luhan’s hand once more and guiding him towards the nearest kiosk.

The worst thing about being pregnant, by far in Luhan’s opinion, were the near constant bathroom breaks. The baby, especially now that she was so big, was sitting essentially on his bladder. That meant the need to relieve himself every forty-five minutes at less, sometimes more frequently.

“Bathroom,” Luhan said, pulling at Sehun’s sleeve. “I have to use the bathroom.”

Sehun paused from where he’d laid Luhan’s new paperwork out on the kiosk’s countertop and turned to him. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Luhan shook his head. “You get our tickets. I’m going to that one right there.” He pointed to the nearest bathroom and then took off towards it.

With a sharp but nervous nod, Sehun said, “When you get back I’ll have our tickets. The plane leaves in twenty minutes.”

Luhan moved as fast as he could, relieving himself quickly and then washing his hands. A fast look in the mirror showed a man who hadn’t been getting enough sleep, but one that smiling still came easy to.

He was going ot have to tell him, he realized. He was going to have to tell Sehun when they got back to Korea that Luhan had feelings for him. It could potentially wreck everything he had, but Sehun coming for him now had only cemented what Luhan had been feeling. And they weren’t feelings that he could keep hidden very well or for very much longer. They had to come out, no matter the consequences.

“I thought I told you what a stupid thing it would be for you to run.”

Luhan spun so fast he nearly lost his balance. “Wei!”

It was his worst nightmare in the doorway. The bathroom wasn’t empty, there were plenty of people milling around them, but to Luhan it seemed like there were only two people left in the world now.

“How did you find me?” Luhan asked quietly. Not wanting to make a scene just yet.

“There’s a tracker in your shoe,” Wei said casually. “Just in case you decided to be epic in your stupidity. But I’m not sure why you would come here. You know you can’t leave the country. No one is going to put you on a flight out of pity.”

“You’re an idiot,” Luhan replied. “If you think I got here on my own, or that I don’t have a way to get on a flight, you’re a bigger idiot than I already thought you were. And you’re a supremely huge idiot if you don’t realize that the person I love is here at the airport, and he’s probably thirty seconds away from realizing something is wrong and barging in here.”

Next to Luhan a man was washing his hands, but paying their conversation not a care in the world. It was beyond disheartening how little people realized the things happening around them.

Wei asked, “You think you have everything figured out?”

“No,” Luhan shook his head. “I think I have people who care for me, and who’ll risk everything for me. I think I have a future with a daughter and a man worth fighting for. I think I won’t hesitated for a second, if you try to touch me, to call for either Sehun or the police. And you know I’m kind of hoping I get the police, because then we can go to the Korean embassy afterward. And considering the way Sehun explained it, I’m a temporary Korean citizen while carrying this baby. Try me, Wei, I’m not going back to that house, I’m not going back to my parents, and I’m not going back with you.”

Wei took a daring step forward and asked, “Do you care about what will happen to our families without this marriage? Do you understand that my family is about to lose its board seats, and your family’s public confidence had been wavering for years? We need his merger and we need it validated by marriage.”

“For what?” Luhan demanded. “For more money? For more power? What happened to you? Did your family twist you that much over the years I’ve been gone? My god, where did the person I called a friend once go? Where’s the person who kept my secrets and smuggled me paints, and told me he wanted to study literature and write novels? Is he dead and gone? It feels that way, and for that I’m sad, because he was my best friend for so many years, and the only person I trusted.”

Wei looked shocked and Luhan only felt pity for him.

“I’m going now,” Luhan said firmly. “I’m going to be with the man I love, in the place I call home. We’re going to raise our daughter together and I’m going to paint. If there’s even a shred of the person who used to be my best friend, you won’t try to stop me. If any of my best friend is left in you, you’ll be happy for me finding out who I am, and then maybe you’ll try to find out who you are. I assure you, you’re not what I see now. You’re not your father.”

Boldly Luhan stepped around him, and he half expected Wei to pounce on him. But when he dared to look back he could only see Wei with hunched shoulders and a bowed head. He couldn’t see his old friend or the new person he’d become. Luhan couldn’t see anything, a moment after that.

“Ready?” Sehun asked when Luhan was back at his side. “I’ve got our tickets.”

Luhan let his fingers slide against Sehun’s and he gave a small nod. “I’m ready to go home.”

Miraculously enough, an hour later found Luhan on a plane headed back to Korea, a dozing Sehun next to him. Luhan had long since fitted himself again Sehun in one single seat, even the spacious first-class chairs barely enough room for the both of them and Luhan’s stomach. Then he leaned against Sehun, soaking in his warmth. He’d thought for so long it was something he’d never get back.

“You okay?” Sehun mumbled at him, proving he was at least still a little awake. “You want to go back to your own seat?” But contrary to his words, Luhan felt Sehun’s heavy and secure arm come around him, pulling him even closer.

“No,” Luhan said, gazing out the nearby window at the blackness of the night sky. “I’m good here.”

Sehun gave a grunt of approval and Luhan let his own eyes close. For the first time in over a week, he slept easily and peacefully.