It’s been fifteen years.

That’s Lu Han’s first thought when he sees him again. Something bubbles up inside his chest, a warmth he hasn’t felt in years. 

“Minseok?”

He looks so different, but also the same. Less chubby cheeks, more cheekbone. A hard slant to his eyes, jaded now with fame, but when he turns around and smiles, it’s the same smile. 

“Lu… Han?” 

“Yeah,” says Lu Han, returning a smile that threatens to overcome his features. “That’s me.”

Minseok laughs. It’s a soft noise, comforting, endearing, and terribly, terribly familiar. Even if it has been fifteen years. 

“Wow,” he says. “It’s been… a long time, huh?”

“Quite a long time. How are you doing?”

Minseok shrugs. “Oh, you know… living.”

“Just living?” Lu Han laughs. 

Minseok’s face has been plastered on billboards for years. He’s a celebrity of the highest caliber, singer, actor, model. He has producer rights now alongside the highest directors of his company, and two acting awards to his name. Lu Han can’t lie. He’s seen a few of his movies, though not all of them. There are too many for him to have caught in his busy schedule over the last decade.

“Well,” says Minseok… “You know.”

“Yeah. I can guess.”

Fifteen years, and somehow things don’t feel like they’ve changed a day. Here they stand, in the middle of the flower market, blooms of every shade of color and some in between, and Minseok lights up the scene brighter than the prettiest flower. 

“Are you… busy right now?”

Lu Han invites him for a coffee. There’s a shop just around the corner, quaint and marginally secluded. He expects Minseok to turn him down, anticipates a pretty apology and the excuse of a busy schedule. That he’s a celebrity with an image to maintain and can’t be seen with… a commoner. 

But Minseok agrees and he follows Lu Han out of the flower market, an enormous bouquet of hyacinths under his arm. Of their recipient, Lu Han doesn’t ask. 

“So what have you been up to these past years?” Minseok asks. 

They’re sitting across from each other, two steaming cups between them and a little bagel on Minseok’s side of the table. 

“Working,” says Lu Han.

“You went to work for your father?”

Lu Han hums. “And you? Or, I guess I don’t need to ask.”

Minseok’s smile is a delicate thing, humble and apologetic. He doesn’t need to spell out his career. Everyone knows what he’s been doing since he came under the public light years and years ago. 

Instead, Minseok’s face eventually falls and this is the moment Lu Han knows he’s going to regret, later, when he’s at home and Minseok has said his goodbyes and they’ve gone their separate ways, again. 

“I’ve missed you.”

Later on, Lu Han won’t remember if he was the one who said it, or if Minseok spoke the words instead. In the moment though, it’s an unspoken thing. Feelings that may have been there in the past. Kept hidden. 

Once upon a time, they had walked in the same steps. School and study, rest and play, movies and football until Lu Han went to college and Minseok was auditioning at a different agency every week, praying to make it. There were a few emails back and forth for a while, one or two phone calls. A half-hearted chat history that lingered pitiably for half a year. And then it was over. 

Lu Han spent years grieving for something that had never happened, and years more getting over that loss. 

He’s almost forgotten what it’s like, to sit across from the love of his life. 

Minseok looks out into the street, effortlessly runs his fingers through his hair and then catches Lu Han looking. 

Lu Han doesn’t blush. He’s beyond things like that now. But Minseok suddenly avoids his eyes. He clears his throat, mumbling something unheard until his courage must have resurfaced.

“So… last I remember, your father was trying to set you up on a blind date a week. Any of those stick?”

Lu Han laughs. A petty sound. 

“Those heiresses? Nah…”

He doesn’t tell Minseok why he’d never picked on. Most of them were all undeniably beautiful, classy, charming, and fun. Some he genuinely liked and kept in touch with, as a friend. 

But none of them were Minseok. 

“Oh? Well, that’s okay,” says Minseok like he’s apologizing for something. “Sometimes the single life isn’t bad. I mean, look at me.”

“So it’s ok well for you?” asks Lu Han. He really does hope the best for Minseok, his former friend. Hopes his crush as only a one-sided thing. That he didn’t spend years like Lu Han did, pining. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

At some point Lu Han recognizes their conversation is coming to a standstill. He can’t bear for that to happen. For Minseok to feel like a stranger.

He asks him about his latest projects, what his work is like. Are his managers good to him (yes) and does he have any good friends (no). Does he have anyone he likes (a big fat no). 

Their reunion lingers on in a way their relationship never did. 

I’ve missed you. 

But they dance around those words, never repeating. 

Minseok’s phone rings in the middle of his retelling of a celebrity football event for charity. He smiles at Luhan but turns away to answer it. Lu Han tries not to eavesdrop. It sounds like a work call so he scrolls through his own phone while he waits, pretending like they aren’t worlds apart. 

Old memories resurface. Of Minseok with the sun beaming on his face, of gummy smiles and laughter, and hugs and touch. Of a presence so much larger than life Lu Han can bring them back to life so easily now. 

Like it wasn’t fifteen years ago when he carried his torch for a friend who never even knew…

“I found your Instagram.” Lu Han holds up his phone and waves it over the table after Minseok ends his call.

Minseok laughs. “Wait. You mean you weren’t following me until now?”

“I wasn’t actually.” Lu Han shrugs. 

It’s not even a lie. Some things he doesn’t need to be reminded of 24/7. Like Minseok’s smiling face, smiling for others. How his body had matured even beyond high school. The cats he owns, when he’d been forbidden growing up to have one so he came over to Lu Han’s for his daily dose of feline appreciation. 

Minseok’s favorite cat had been the white one who died five years ago. And how he has a white cat who looks exactly the same. Staring at that picture now, Lu Han’s heart aches for too many things he almost can’t put it into words.

“Can I follow you back?”

Minseok’s words shock Lu Han out of his thoughts. 

“You can do that?”

“Uhh… it’s quite easy?” Minseok looks delighted, playing with his thumb over the Follow button of his newest follower: 7_luhan_m

“That’s not what I—I mean… But you’re a celebrity!”

“So? Aren’t we friends?”

A fantasy flashes before Lu Han’s eyes of the media and fans suddenly making a fuss about the person Minseok’s just followed. Lu Han’s name won’t even shoot Minseok’s followings above twenty names. Something like this is bound to be noticed. 

But then Minseok does it like it’s no big deal at all and Lu Han realizes, oh. It’s because they’re friends. Just friends, and there’s certainly nothing scandalous about that at all. 

“You have this weird look right now. Are you okay?” asks Minseok. 

Lu Han stares offhandedly at the bouquet of flowers Minseok’s dragged along laying almost neglected on the edge of the table. 

He said there wasn’t anyone he likes, so who are the flowers for? 

“I’m alright, just thinking,” he says honestly. 

“About what?” 

And there it is, the million-dollar question. Before he can second guess himself, before he can even allow an inch of doubt to seep into his brain and sabotage his intentions…. 

“You,” he says. 

Minseok’s mouth forms a little ‘oh’ shape, but he remains silent, cheeks coloring just the slightest bit. One hand trembles but seeks out the stem of the bouquet as if seeking comfort. Lu Han lets his gaze follow to that delicate hand, fingers close to wrapping around the plastic wrapping until… Minseok withdraws it. He clears his throat and his hands go to his lap, hidden from view. Lu Han has no other choice but to look up. 

“Say something?” he prompts. 

Minseok looks away. He’s biting the corner of his lower lip. His shoulders shrug as he adjusts in his seat and when he turns his head back he says, “Lu Han… look…”

Automatically Lu Han scoffs. “You know what. I think I should go. It was good to meet you again. Uhm, have a good life-”

“Lu Han, no. Wait!”

Lu Han’s standing up now, ready to bolt. But then Minseok rises too, face a little panicked and he almost knocks the bouquet off the table in his haste to follow that he has to stop and grab the flowers before they can hit the floor. 

“Please, don’t go…” he says. 

And Lu Han’s knees wobble, but obediently he sits back down. 

It’s been fifteen years, but even still Lu Han’s mind, soul, and body can and will do everything Minseok wants. 

“Lu Han… that’s, not what I meant at all. I… I really missed you.” 

A person can miss a friend though. Lu Han knows that. He’s lost lots of friends over the years and mourned for them in their own separate ways. But that’s now how he thinks about Minseok. Minseok was the one . The one who got away. He let the pressure of his family and Minseok’s ambitions go first, and together it was the end of them, of whatever they might have had. All that Lu Han dreamed of. 

He closes his eyes, sighs once, heavily, and leans back in his chair. His fingers are itching to pull out his phone again and twiddle away the reality around him. 

Except he knows as soon as he picks it up again he’ll see that notification that Minseok, famous Minseok, has followed him back, and if that doesn’t bespeak a lie he doesn’t know what does. 

Once, once a long time ago, he thought maybe Minseok knew what he felt for him. That his feelings were obvious. Lu Han’s grown and he’s certainly matured over the years but that back he wore his heart on his sleeve, and he wasn’t very good at covering it up. 

“Maybe we can do this again, huh?” he says, playing it light. Like a friend would. 

But Minseok’s downcast eyes aren’t lifting. He looks sadder than ever, like a man who’s upset a child and doesn’t know how to fix it. Lu Han hates that. He’s the one who opened this can of worms, he should be the one to close it again, best as possible. 

“Lu Han.”

“Hmm?”

“Back then… it was, what, fifteen years ago?”

“Something like that,” whispers Lu Han.

Minseok smiles, but there’s hesitation when he speaks again. 

“I… I really liked you.”

Slowly, very slowly, Lu Han sits up straighter in his chair. “W-What?”

“I didn’t tell you. I was afraid… I thought, you might like me too, and the implications of that, back then… Lu Han, I was so, so scared.”

Lu Han balls his fist, unravels his fingers one by one. Then, inconspicuously, he pinches his leg under the table. 

“Okay.”

Minseok stares at him confused. “Okay… what?”

“What about now?” His knees are starting to bounce. 

“Now?”

“Yes. Do you… still like me now?” 

He can’t keep the want out of his voice. Not when the world just flipped on his axis. Not when the skies just parted. Not when the literal sun is looking him right in the face and saying, “Y-Yes? At least, I think I do?”

“You think you do?” exclaims Lu Han, half with glee, half confused outrage.

Minseok’s smile is warm, still a little hesitant. “Lu Han. It’s been so long. Maybe we should… go on a few dates first.” 

And that’s it. That’s the clincher. Lu Han’s smile blossoms, all teeth on display. His cheeks are warm, his blood racing. He reaches across the table, twists his fingers around Minseok’s hand and practically hauls him out of his chair and across the table. Their lips meet in a collision of shock and surprise. Minseok gasps, other arm flying to keep his balance, and the bouquet of flowers finally, finally flies off the table to land in a heap of bruised and broken petals on the floor. 

Minseok shouts. 

Lu Han beams. His lips are tingling from only that bare touch, but he has the sense to at least look guilty at the ruined mess beside the table. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!”

Minseok, face blushing crazily and his eyes rushing everywhere at Lu Han, just stares at the flowers. He’s not entirely upset. Instead, he’s still smiling and eventually he sighs and says, “Oh well. Guess I can get another bouquet.”

“Were they… for anyone special?” asks Lu Han, still a tiny bit jealous wondering who they’re for. 

“My mother!” cries Minseok. “I missed her birthday dinner a couple of days ago because of work and… but I can get her some more on our way back.”

“Our way back?”

“Well, yeah. Obviously, you owe me a new bouquet of flowers for my precious mother.”

He’s grinning, and Lu Han can’t help grinning back. 

Something has definitely changed between them. A new beginning, hope. 

It’s been fifteen years, but all of that restarts today, when Minseok takes his hand outside the coffee shop, and their chatter continues all the way back to the flower market where they first met again. And this time on their way home, Minseok leans over to give Lu Han a peck on the cheek. 

Lu Han ignores his Instagram for hours. All the notifications and the comments under his last post asking who he is and how does he know Kim Minseok. 

He finally looks at it again several weeks later, at his and Minseok’s picture at a fancy restaurant under the moonlight, arms around each other and coy smiles and the caption: It’s been fifteen years, love .