#55:Someone Holds Me Safe and Warm
HunHan-centric

Sehun wasn’t sure what it was that drew him to Lu Han—he wouldn’t call it love at first sight, because he was practically a baby when they met. But there was something that at the time, Sehun hadn’t been able to put words to. He just knew that Lu Han, while he was older, was different from Suho, and while he was playful, was not the same playmate that Kai was.

Sehun’s speech problem made it hard for him to express himself, but few people really had a problem knowing what he wanted. It was only after Sehun met Lu Han that realized—he didn’t just want people to know what he meant, he wanted to be understood, in a way that went deeper than his words. And Lu Han…just seemed to know.

Once when the two of them were sitting together, Lu Han reached over and wrapped an arm around Sehun’s shoulders, pulling him in for a cuddle.

“What’s up, Sehunnie?” He’d asked, bopping Sehun’s nose lightly. Sehun smiled and looked up at Lu Han, thinking to himself that he wanted to be like Lu Han when he grew up—he wanted people to love him instantly, he wanted to have all the right words, he wanted to be playful and mature at the same time, he wanted to be on Lu Han’s level.

And Lu Han grinned, ruffling Sehun’s hair. “You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said gently. “Do you know that? I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun froze, staring at Lu Han in astonishment. He was only six years old, and he’d never been more shocked in his life. He hadn’t spoken, how had Lu Han known what he was thinking?!

Lu Han chuckled and kissed Sehun’s cheek. “You have very expressive eyes, Sehun,” he said, “I can see everything you think about through them.”

As they grew up, Sehun doubted that Lu Han even remembered that moment—it was such a small amount of time in the grand scheme of things. But what happened that day stuck with Sehun for the rest of his life. Lu Han had understood him, but Sehun hadn’t even spoken. Nobody had done that before, not even Suho. Lu Han…just understood.

When they first met, Sehun had wanted to talk for the first time in his life. He didn’t just want to get the words right anymore, he wanted to be able to converse with people—with Lu Han specifically. He wanted to be able to talk like grownups, like Lu Han was (because to a five year old, nine was about as grown up as could be). Sehun had never wanted to talk before, not unless he absolutely needed to. He wasn’t shy, and he wasn’t stupid—it wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say, he just didn’t know who would want to listen to him. Well, he finally had an answer—Lu Han would.

Sehun was actually glad for the distraction that Mama provided—he and Lu Han had just confessed their feelings for each other, and both of them knew full well that it wouldn’t go anywhere for a long time. Or what felt like a long time, anyway. In the future Sehun would look back on those years and realize that he was a little dramatic, but to a thirteen year old, seventeen was about as grown up as thirty. Sehun couldn’t wait to be old enough to know what it felt like to be in love—truly in love. It wasn’t the gentle kisses that Lu Han shared with him just before bed. That felt like a consolation, a pitiful second place compared to what Sehun knew he and Lu Han could offer each other. It was almost embarrassing, the way he looked forward to Lu Han’s chaste, brief kiss goodnight. But with the threat of darkness hanging over their heads (or rather, under their feet), Sehun didn’t have as much time to dwell on the between him and his beloved.

That’s not to say he didn’t find time every now and then.

“Are you bored?” Sehun asked Lu Han one night while the cuddled. It had been a long day of studying, working with their gifts until Sehun had sea legs from all the wind, and Lu Han had a splitting headache. As they were lying in bed, Lu Han had his head buried in Sehun’s chest, and Sehun was massaging the back of his neck.

“Hmm?” Lu Han hummed groggily. “Bored how?”

Sehun thought about laughing it off, but he was a terrible liar. “Bored of me.”

Lu Han groaned. “Oh, please, Sehun…”

“I haven’t said anything!” Sehun protested, trying to ignore the fact that he was blushing. They were so good at reading each other now.

Lu Han pushed himself up on his elbows, hovering over Sehun, and Sehun tried to ignore the way it made his stomach flutter.

“I am not bored,” Lu Han stressed, tracing his fingertips over Sehun’s cheek. “I am perfectly content with the way things are.”

Sehun pouted. “Don’t you want more?” Of course what he meant was ‘Don’t you want to have with me?’

Lu Han hesitated, knowing that Sehun would twist his words no matter what he answered. “When you’re older,” he finally said.

“I’m fourteen,” Sehun reminded him, “That’s older.”

“Not old enough,” Lu Han said firmly.

“Why not?” Sehun demanded, “Would it be different if we were the same age? If you were also fourteen?”

“I don’t know,” Lu Han sighed, flopping back down on the bed. “We’re not the same age, but I remember what fourteen was like and it’s not old enough—”

“Not for you, maybe!” Sehun cried, sitting up. “But I’m not you, you don’t know what it’s like for me!” He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t ing cry, he was trying to prove that he was old enough, he would not pitch a fit. “I’m a Guardian,” Sehun said fiercely, ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes, “I have duties, responsibilities,” He lowered his voice, “I am aware of a growing darkness that’s slowly taking over the minds of the people around us and I know that we need to eventually abandon our home because it’s the only way we’ll be able to save it. I was abandoned by my family when I was four years old and taken to a strange place, I know things that other boys my age wouldn’t dream of learning—and you think I’m not ready to love you? You think I’m not ready for…for ?”

No matter how hard he tried, Sehun couldn’t stop the tears. Their relationship was going to be one uphill battle after another, he could already tell. First Sehun tried to hide how he felt because he was afraid they wouldn’t be accepted by their brothers, now they had to deal with an that seemed as wide as the space between the earth and the sky. He hid his face in his hands under the pretense of anger, when really he was trying to hide his tears. The unfairness of this situation stung more than the rejection.

Sehun felt a hand on his shoulder. “I know you love me,” Lu Han said gently. “And I know…that this is unfair, and it seems like forever—”

“You haven’t even told me how long,” Sehun sobbed, giving up on hiding his tears. Even if it made him look like a child, Lu Han already knew so why bother? “How long do you want to wait? You will always be four and a half years older than me, do you want to wait until I’m twenty? Eighteen? I love you now, Lu Han!”

“And I know that,” Lu Han said, “Sehun, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?” Sehun demanded.

Lu Han looked hurt. “Is that what you think? That I’m rejecting you?” He knew what word Sehun had wanted to use.

“Hard not to think so!” Sehun retorted, feeling a few more tears escape. “What do you want from me, Lu Han? What do I have to do to be old enough for you?”

Lu Han laughed and before Sehun could be furious about it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sehun’s. It was a long moment before they parted, and it took Sehun by surprise—their kisses never lasted this long, never.

When Lu Han broke the kiss, he smiled in a way that made Sehun blush. Lu Han his thumb over Sehun’s flushed cheek.

“Your body has to catch up to your mind,” Lu Han said, in answer to Sehun’s earlier question. “I know you’re mature Sehun, but it’s only in your head. The rest of you has to catch up.”

Sehun was confused. “You said I was really handsome…” he whined, not intending to sound so petulant but really, what was he supposed to do with that information?!

Lu Han laughed again. “You are, my love,” he said, “But for heaven’s sake, you’ve barely started puberty! Your body is just not ready for what it is you’re looking for.”

Sehun deflated. “I could be…” he mumbled, feeling his face heat up even more. “You never know. I could surprise you.” He wanted to cry all over again.

Lu Han hugged Sehun then, holding him close and rocking him gently. “Maybe you could,” he admitted, “But I don’t want to take that chance and possibly ruin things for you.”

“For me?” Sehun parroted.

“Yes, for you,” Lu Han explained. “By the Tree Sehun, do you even know what you want? I could name a thousand things I want to do with you, Sehun.” Lu Han pulled back, staring intently into Sehun’s eyes. “I want you,” he admitted, “I really do. But I want to take my time with you, and draw out every moment we have together and make them last.”

Sehun was breathless and his face felt too hot. “I’m ready,” he said, and it came out like a whimper.

Lu Han shook his head. “Not for what I have planned, my love. And not for what you want. But none of that is your fault,” he assured, cupping Sehun’s cheeks and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. “Really, it’s just simple biology. You don’t have that control yet, and I’m afraid that I’d hurt you.”

“Only if you topped,” Sehun mumbled, but he knew when he had lost.

“What was I just saying about control?” Lu Han asked, tapping Sehun’s nose. “Can you please trust me on this? You don’t want our first time to be over in ten minutes, do you?”

“You underestimate me!” Sehun pouted.

“Fine, eleven minutes,” Lu Han laughed. “Come on, be honest with me. You have nothing to be ashamed of, I was there too.”

Sehun’s shoulders slumped. “But you’re not anymore,” Sehun mumbled. “Which brings me back to my original question—are you bored?”

Lu Han shook his head, running his fingers through Sehun’s hair. “I can wait,” he promised, and his gaze turned heated, “Because I know that the result will be worth every minute of the wait.”

It didn’t do much good at the time, but in the years to come Sehun would replay the conversation and be comforted in the knowledge that Lu Han had promised to wait for him. And in the end he was right—it was worth the wait.

When Sehun got older, he was quick to realize that Lu Han had always taken care of him, even when Sehun didn’t appreciated it—like when he stopped Sehun from losing his ity too soon. Well, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it, but Sehun couldn’t think of any better words. Lu Han had always, always, done what was best for Sehun and kept Sehun’s best interests in his heart, even when it conflicted with what Sehun wanted—or what they both wanted. When Sehun reached maturity, he realized it was time to start giving back. It was time for him to go to the library and take the books from Lu Han’s hands, lead him to bed and tuck him in. It was time for Sehun to insist that Lu Han try to eat a little more, to take care of his body. Sometimes Sehun had to be the one to tell Lu Han to take it slow, to not be dumb when it came to his powers, to know his limits. Lu Han was never very good when it came to his own limits, even when he could sense when Sehun was approaching his own.

Maybe that was why Sehun blamed himself so much when Lu Han lost his mind, trying to save them all. Trying to save Sehun. because in the end, the two of them were so selfish when it came to each other. They’d do anything for their other half, even if it hurt them in the process.

Even when Lu Han came back (finally, finally came back, looked Sehun in the eyes with all the love he’d had in in his gaze so many years ago, when he was trying to talk Sehun into waiting), he didn’t come back all the way. It got better as time went on but there were still cracks in Lu Han’s foundation. Sometimes Lu Han would freeze, staring off into space, and Sehun would have to come over and coax him back to the present. At those times, Lu Han would lose whatever it was he’d been doing or thinking about. It could happen at any time, when they were walking down a road, when Lu Han was eating or speaking—once it happened when Lu Han was swimming, and he went down in the water like a rock. He would have drowned had Sehun not been there to pull him up, remind him to breathe.

And then  there was Lu Han’s gift—his wonderful ability to move things with his mind. For a long time, it was just gone. Lu Han didn’t like to talk about it, and he hid it very well—he had no reason to use his gift, after all. And then when they started getting stronger, it became more noticeable. His gift had returned, but Lu Han was not as strong as he once was. He didn’t think he would ever be that strong again.

That’s when it truly became Sehun’s turn to look out for Lu Han, not just his physical wellbeing but his emotional health as well.

“Sehun,” Lu Han asked one night, trying to keep his tone light but betrayed by the tears in his eyes, “Are you tired of me?”

The compound was silent—nearly everyone else had gone to bed, but Sehun and Lu Han had gone to great lengths to make sure that their quarters were as soundproof as possible (they could get quite loud, sometimes), and it made Sehun’s stunned silence that much more pronounced. They were lying side by side on their bed, and Sehun slowly sat up.

“Why,” Sehun gasped, “Would you ever ask me something like that?”

Lu Han laughed, but his voice broke on a sob. “I’m not the man you fell in love with.”

“Don’t say that,” Sehun said fiercely, “As if it’s a reason not to love you. I’m not the boy you fell in love with anymore, are you tired of me?”

Lu Han shook his head as he sat up, tears swimming in his eyes. “But you have to do so much for me,” he whispered. “And it will always be that way.” He started to sob in earnest, bent over and clutching his chest. “By the Tree, Sehun, if I could go back to how I used to be…I’d do anything. I just feel so…broken. And it’s all my fault.” He looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I hurt us both—”

“You saved us!” Sehun cried, “Are we going to have this discussion again? My god, Lu Han, if there is one thing I’m tired of, it’s how little you think of yourself!” Lu Han jerked back as if he’d been slapped, and Sehun lowered his voice. “I know it was hard for you to make that decision, but if you hadn’t…we could have died. We really could have died, and then what would have happened? The Tree would be gone, Mama would have won. You saved our planet with your sacrifice, you gave us this, our future!”

“But you lost me!” Lu Han cried. “And we lost eight years, and I remember you and Jongin crying and begging me to come back! I remember you hurting yourself—”

“Stop,” Sehun begged, “Lu Han, it’s over. All that is over.”

“It’s eight years that we’ll never get back,” Lu Han choked, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “And…it’s eight years that I didn’t love you.”

Sehun froze and leaned back. “Oh,” he breathed. “Oh…so that’s why you’re punishing yourself.”

Lu Han wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. He was punishing himself, because he remembered so clearly the lack of emotion he felt during the eight years of hell he put Sehun and Jongin through. Sehun had loved him so much even then, and Lu Han had felt…nothing.

Lu Han tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to look at Sehun. He knew that even then, Sehun would be staring at him with all the love in the world. Tears ran down the side of his face and into his hair, and he didn’t brush them away.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered. “Every bad thing that happened to you in those eight years was my fault, and I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”

Sehun grabbed Lu Han’s hands and held them to his chest. Lu Han closed his eyes and turned his head away. He couldn’t look, if he did he’d feel even more wretched.

“You already have,” Sehun said gently, “With every moment we’ve shared since then. When you agreed to marry me, when we stuck out our differences during the time that I lost hope in the Tree, now when we’re on different sides about what should be done to punish the people that put us here…Lu Han, I thought we worked this out. We can’t change the past, we can only look to the future.” Sehun cradled Lu Han’s face in his hands. “Love please, look at me.”

Lu Han squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

Sehun sounded near tears when he spoke again. “What can I do? How can I help you?”

“You can be angry with me!” Lu Han cried. “For once, please, Sehun! Just be angry! Yell at me, blame me, tell me how much I hurt you—so when you say you forgive me I’ll know that you mean it, that you understand you have something to forgive because right now…I’m not even sure that you do!”

“But I was never angry with you!” Sehun exploded.

Lu Han opened his eyes in shock, and wished he hadn’t. Sehun looked so upset, and it was Lu Han’s fault once more. As if sensing what Lu Han was thinking, Sehun leaned forward, holding Lu Han’s gaze.

“I was angry with myself,” Sehun rushed, “And while I forgave you, I never forgave myself. I was never angry with you because I knew…deep down I knew that it was the right thing for you to do. And as much as I wished I had stopped you,” Sehun choked on a sob but pushed through, “What I wanted more than that was just a chance to…say goodbye,” he was crying almost as hard as Lu Han by that point, “And to tell you one last time that I loved you with all my heart, and I was—I am so, so proud of you. And I was so angry at myself for not realizing what you were doing until it was too late, because you didn’t get to hear that from me.”

Lu Han took a deep breath. “But you lost me,” he whimpered.

“I got you back,” Sehun reminded him. He lifted Lu Han’s hands to his mouth and kissed them, never breaking eye contact. “I got you back and I will never, ever, let you go again. And I’ll make you a deal,” he said suddenly, moving closer. They were both kneeling on the bed now, and their knees were touching. “I’ll forgive myself, but only when you forgive yourself.”

“That’s not fair!” Lu Han cried.

Sehun held up his hand. “I didn’t say it had to be right away, or that I wouldn’t help you. In fact, we can help each other. We will move past this, Lu Han, one way or another. I will not let you go down this road, I will not let you hate yourself for any reason. You are worth so much more than that.”

Lu Han closed his eyes again, leaning forward to press his forehead to Sehun’s. How often the two of them had been in this position, for so many reasons…Lu Han had lost count. Sehun fluttered butterfly kisses over Lu Han’s cheeks and nose, kissed him so gently that Lu Han almost crumbled. Sometimes it was easier to fall apart under a gentle touch than a heady one.

“Lu Han?” Sehun whispered, “Please can you promise that you’ll try to forgive yourself?”

It would make Sehun happy, and in the end that was all Lu Han wanted. And he truly did want to stop feeling so awful all the time, so he took a deep, shaky breath and promised to do so.

Title from the song “Once Upon a December” from the 1997 movie Anastasia.

I always make HunHan so sad, but in the words of my dear wifey “You made Lu Han a vegetable for the first how many chapters and you're wondering why there's so much angst in their arcs?”

Yes I know, I regret that decision every time I write HunHan and I cry (but I don’t really regret it because glorious angst). Anyway this is actually super long, I don’t normally write scenes but HunHan were being lovey-dovey so I decided to continue in this vein, and realizing that not everyone wants to read that I have decided to post the rest of this drabble on my livejournal and you can go read it there. feel free to comment here or there, but please do comment. And if you think I’m any good at writing…what comes next then please tell me so I don’t feel like I embarrassed myself over nothing.

Read the rest here: http://cherith0angel.livejournal.com/24858.html

*edit* Things I forgot to mention:
A) Wow, Once Upon a December is reeeeally appropriate right now, isn't it?
B) MERRY FRICKIN' EARLY CHRISTMAS B/C IDK IF I'LL HAVE TIME TO POST ANOTHER DRABBLE BEFORE THE 25TH SO SANTA CAME EARLY. Which leads me to
C) I'm one short essay and 2 final exams away from winter break, so hopefully I'll be able to do a lot of writing over the next 6 weeks.