Sehun had expected Jongin’s phone call to change everything.

After purposefully locking him out of his and Luhan’s relationship, mentally, emotionally and physically, he’d expected it all to come crashing down around them once reality came knocking once more.

So he was more than a little surprised when, shortly after ending the call with Jongin, Luhan strode over to him, threw his arms around his neck, and kissed him as if nothing was amiss. As if the phone call, a reminder that Jongin was still very an obstacle, hadn’t broken the lust-filled spell they’d previously been under. They’d proceeded into the bathroom for their shower, where they’d made love again, before finally heading down to breakfast and commencing their day.

The days that followed were like every day that had preceded it for the past month.

Jongin wasn’t set to return until the weekend and as if he were intent on making the best of his remaining few days, Luhan continued with their ritual of domestic bliss: breakfasts in bed, tinkering in the garden beneath the sultry, summer sun, seeing to it that Sehun spent at least a few hours a day in the studio and the rest of the time doing what they did best – making love.

Those days were nothing short of blissful and Sehun savored every second of them.

But the night before Jongin’s return was when Sehun saw the first crack in Luhan’s seemingly strong, impenetrable armor.

The day had started off like any other. They’d woken up, made love, had breakfast, made love again, and eventually managed to shower and throw some clothes on. Luhan had suggested lunch in the city so they’d made a day of it, walking through malls and buying anything that caught their fancy. They’d never really spent a day in the city as a couple, doing things that other couples took for granted, so it had been the perfect day. They’d even caught an early afternoon movie wherein they’d held hands the entire time, feeding each other popcorn in the dark. Sehun was naturally affectionate when it came to Luhan but he always tamped down on the urge to touch him when they were out during the day, especially in the middle of Seoul. He was perfectly okay with who and what he was and he was pretty sure that Luhan was too but he saw no need to flaunt it, to draw unnecessary attention and the negative reactions that often came with them.

On their way home, they’d bought dinner and a nice bottle of wine to round out the evening and it was then as they ate at the table that Sehun noticed the change. As dinner progressed, Luhan became more and more fidgety and distracted, Sehun having to repeat himself several times when Luhan didn’t hear what he’d said to him. When he asked what was wrong, Luhan replied with, “Nothing. What could possibly be wrong on such a perfect day?”

Sehun didn’t believe him for a second but since it was their last night together for heaven knew how long, he didn’t want to cap off the day with an argument.

Later, when they were in bed with only the moon’s glow illuminating them, Luhan reached for him with hands so shaky yet urgent that they scared him as much as they turned him on. Their lovemaking was frenetic and wild, turning him upside down and inside out so that he didn’t know whether he was coming or going. Afterward, he held Luhan tightly as they settled, their breathing still harsh and uneven, and he suspected that the tremors he felt weren’t solely the aftershocks of Luhan's . He wanted to tell him that everything was okay, that nothing would change and they would always be as indivisible as they currently were, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t make promises because even though he knew what he felt and what he wanted, it wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t about him at all.

And though he shed no tears that night, the fear of the unknown stayed with him well into the early morning.

Luhan looked at his suitcases, neatly packed and propped against the wall by the door, and felt his stomach churn, his breakfast threatening to make a violent reappearance.

He walked upstairs to Sehun’s room and looked around again under the pretense of making sure that he hadn’t left anything important behind. He hadn’t taken all of this things – he would be back there for work in two days and there was always the possibility that he might need a change of clothes at some point, or so he’d told himself – but the majority had been tidily packed in the luggage that awaited him downstairs.

His eyes drifted around the room, memorizing every detail, his hand trailing along the mantle, the paintings on the wall, every surface he could possibly touch. He looked into the bathroom and Sehun’s upstairs studio, Sehun's shrine to him, before sitting on the bed, sighing as the familiar softness cushioned his derriere. He knew that it wasn’t the last time he would be in this room, wasn’t the last time he would sit, sleep or make love on this bed, but nothing would be the same from this day onward. The freedom that they’d reveled in had officially come to an end. He didn’t know what awaited him at home, at Jongin’s house; didn’t know what the future held for him and Sehun. The not knowing, the uncertainty, was almost too much to bear.

“Luhan!”

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he stood and headed towards the door. “Coming!” he called back.

Sehun was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs and he didn’t know what Sehun saw on his face but as soon as he hit the landing, Sehun enveloped him in his warm, strong embrace and he went, pressing himself tightly to the body that had taken him to heights he’d never imagined existed.

He wound his arms tightly around Sehun’s neck, pressing his face deeply into the firm column, feeling his pulse against his cheek.

“I don’t want to go,” he heard himself whisper.

“Stay,” Sehun murmured immediately.

But they both knew that he couldn’t. They’d dodged this bullet for far longer than either had expected but now it was time to face the music.

Sehun pulled back so that he could look down into his face and Luhan’s eyes traced his features, memorizing them urgently as if his subconscious were afraid that he would somehow forget what he looked like the minute he walked out the door.

“I love you,” Sehun said softly, his warm breath wafting over Luhan like a soothing balm.

Luhan’s arms tightened and he breathed it in, breathed him in, feeling Sehun’s love wrap around him like a blanket, a shield that would protect him from whatever waited for him beyond the front door.

After a while, they broke apart and, hands linked, walked to the door. He finally released Sehun’s hand, his anchor, to heft his suitcases and Sehun opened the door for him, stepping back so that he had a wide berth.

Luhan looked around the foyer one last time before his gaze met and held Sehun’s. There was always so much unsaid in Sehun’s eyes and he knew that he only held back for his sake. It killed him to know that Sehun tempered himself, his words, thoughts, feelings, because of him but it also made him feel that much more loved and cared for. He didn’t want Sehun to sacrifice anything for him but he appreciated not being forced into an admission or commitment he wasn't yet ready for.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Sehun said, a warm smile lifting his lips.

Unable to speak, Luhan nodded and took a step forward, then another until he was on the top landing of the outer steps. He kept going, not looking back, knowing that if he did he would never leave.

Jongin glanced at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time as he paced the imported marble of the foyer.

Luhan had texted hours ago to say that he was on his way home but had yet to arrive. He didn’t jump to the conclusion that something had happened to him – he wasn’t the paranoid type – but it certainly wasn’t helping his already irritated state.

He’d been more than a little put-out to come home to an empty house. Luhan had known what day he was returning, even if not the hour, and he’d fully expected him to be there waiting when he arrived. As far as he knew, Luhan rarely worked on Saturdays and after spending over a month at Sehun’s, one would think he’d be eager to return to his own home. To finally have Jongin back.

When he heard a car pull up in the driveway, he ceased his pacing, took a deep breath and turned to face the door, an expression of perfect calm upon his face.

There was a beep as the key code disarmed and then the door opened revealing Luhan’s lovely face.

He looks different.

That was the first thing that went through Jongin’s mind. He was still his Luhan, still as beautiful as he’d ever been, but he looked…different. It was almost like looking at him for the first time, a completely new person. Weird…

Shaking off his strange thoughts, he stepped forward to help Luhan with his suitcases, setting them aside and standing back as Luhan closed the front door.

“I expected you to be here when I arrived,” he said, irritated by the whiny note he detected in his voice.

Luhan flushed. “Oh. Sorry. I left Sehun’s late and I stopped for something on the way. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He conveniently left out how he’d driven around for hours working up the courage to come home and face Jongin.

“I wasn’t,” Jongin replied nonchalantly.

“Oh. Well…that’s good then.”

Silence fell between them and Jongin couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Things hadn’t been the best when he’d left, he could admit that much, but it wasn’t like they were absolute strangers to each other. Why was this so weird?

“Well… Aren’t you going to welcome me back?” he asked, a flash of humiliation that he even had to ask coursing through him.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just a little out of it right now,” Luhan explained as he walked forward.

Jongin opened his arms and Luhan went into them, his body stiff as Jongin wrapped his arms around him.

Something was very wrong, Jongin thought.

He released Luhan and took a step back. “Everything okay? You seem…distant.”

The flush in those characteristically pale cheeks deepened. “Sorry. I’m just a bit tired. I think I’ll go lie down for a bit and then make your favorite for dinner later. Is that okay?”

Jongin forced a smile. “Sounds perfect.”

When Jongin leaned in to kiss Luhan, Luhan seemed surprised, his eyes flaring wide before he subtly turned his head so that Jongin’s lips caught his cheek instead.

Before Jongin could comment on it, Luhan walked over to his suitcases.

“See you in a bit,” Luhan promised, turning and making his way down the hall to the staircase.

“Okay, what just happened here?” Jongin muttered to himself.

This was not the homecoming he’d expected. He’d hoped that Luhan would have missed him so much that he would have forgotten and forgiven all of his past transgressions, the broken dates and sudden business trips, and be ready and willing to start anew. Worst case scenario, he’d thought that Luhan might be sad or upset, pouting cutely like he sometimes did without knowing. It would be easy enough to soothe him then, maybe take him out to dinner, listen to what had gone on in his life while he’d been dealing with corporate vultures, and come home to a night of exhilarating, passionate .

But this…he didn’t know what this was. Luhan wasn’t excited, nor was he sad. He wasn’t anything. He was completely…neutral. As if it mattered not that Jongin had been gone, nor that he’d returned. In that moment, Sehun’s cryptic words came back to haunt him:

“One day, someone is going to come along and sweep him off his feet, right under your nose. Either that, or he’s going to walk out on you and he’ll be gone before you even realize it.”

Was that what had happened? Had Sehun’s prophecy come true? Was he too late? Had Luhan met someone new…or had he simply given up on Jongin? On them?

Ice gripped Jongin’s chest and he found it hard to breathe.

He was a problem-solver by profession, could buy, sell or trade in the most competitive markets in the business world and turn a sinking business into a Fortune 500 company. But a relationship was not a business. It wasn’t property that he could service from time to time to keep up and running or swap out old parts for new ones when it began to breakdown or decay and he was sadly, finally, starting to realize that.

Solver though he was, he was afraid that this was one problem that he couldn’t fix.