“She’s such a little , gosh I hate her.”

“And yet, you’ve been talking about her for the past fifteen minutes.”

A dark look over a bare shoulder told him well enough what she thought of his opinion.

“Anyway…” She turned around, facing the mirror once more, and resumed applying whatever the hell she’d been painting on since he’d arrived as she continued her story.

Resigning himself to a lengthy wait, Jongin reclined on his elbows, his eyes idly drifting around the room as he tuned out her incessant chatter.

What are you doing here, Jongin-ah?

What indeed?

It was a question he’d asked himself countless times before yet he still hadn’t found a satisfactory answer.

It was routine at this point, these rendezvous. Once upon a time he’d genuinely enjoyed them. They’d filled him with a heady sense of his own power. He was honest enough to admit that he knew he was attractive, maybe even irresistible, to the female and he’d used that attraction to his utmost advantage.

It had started during his years as an intern. He’d been the rising star of his group, his father’s connections getting the ball rolling and his own charm and ability to schmooze the cherry on top. His peers, or competitors as he’d thought of them, had hated his guts and he’d loved it.

He also loved , pleasure in general. He wasn’t so much gay as panual: if it moved, he’d it. He’d been that way since middle-school and had seen no need to change at the time. So when, during one of his first big soirées as a member of the firm, not his father’s son, he’d been introduced to the wife of a wealthy client and said wife had taken a fast interest in him, which her husband clearly didn’t seem to mind, he’d gone along with it. He’d been unattached so he wouldn’t have been cheating on anyone and the woman had been very attractive, even if she’d been old enough to be his mother. The event had been held in a hotel, luckily for them, and she’d quickly booked an expensive suite, dragged him upstairs and taught him a thing or two. It had been so easy, both of them mutually satisfied and his boss’ client happy to boot. Why wouldn’t he do it again?

And thus it had begun. He’d earned his position in the firm just like his fellow competitors had: through hard work, intellect and none too little amount of scheming and back-stabbing. That was the world of business, after all. If he’d had the added advantage of being a specialist in another area, well…that wasn’t something anyone could fault him for. They’d tried, oh they certainly had. Many of his peers had attempted to trivialize his position in the firm, making him out to be nothing more than the company’s , but he knew, they all did, that it wouldn’t have mattered how good he was in the sack or who his father was if he hadn’t also been very good at his job. He had multiple skills, that was all, and some of them simply weren’t applicable in the boardroom.

In the beginning, he’d lived for it. Conquering a woman wasn’t that much different from solving a monetary problem. He figured out what she liked, what she wanted and needed from him and he always made sure that she left with a smile on her face. It hadn’t always been easy. There’d been some that had required more inner strength on his part, women who he’d had to force himself to feign desire for, which wasn’t easy for a man when his desire, or lack thereof, was so obvious but he’d forged on. And then there’d been those who, in the privacy of the bedroom, had revealed that they had no ual intentions towards him. They’d simply liked the attention of a younger man and wanted companionship. The older women, especially, were quite happy with a massage or casual conversation over a glass of wine. Sometimes he'd hold them while they slept. He liked those the best. They didn’t ask anything of him that he wouldn’t have given them anyway under less contrived conditions.

There’d been men as well: a son of a prospective client or a client who had alternative/undercover, socially unacceptable predilections, as his mother would say. He didn’t always enjoy those, as men tended to be more aggressive, especially powerful men, but they were also more directly rewarding as he’d often received little, but highly expensive, tokens of appreciation. Or a fat bonus for a “job well done”. It always paid off in the end.

And then she came along: Crystal, née Kim Jae Hye.

She’d been his most challenging conquest. Young, beautiful, spoiled, rich, entitled but also incredibly intelligent and powerful in her own right. She’d been older than he, by about five years, but she was already a C.E.O in her father’s billion-dollar conglomerate. And she hadn’t liked him, at least not at first, which made her that much more challenging. Thankfully, he’d been too busy finessing her father to give her more than a passing thought most days and that was what had ultimately sealed the deal, both literally and figuratively. Since he hadn’t been paying her the kind of attention she’d expected, she’d ended up becoming the pursuer and he the pursued. In the end, it was her approval that had clinched the deal for them, making her father, and her by association, their biggest and most important client.

They’d celebrated with a weekend of endless ing and…well, ing.

After that, he hadn’t had to sleep with anyone else. He’d gotten a promotion and had been permanently assigned to her father’s account.

A month later, he’d met Luhan.

Luhan…his biggest challenge, and biggest complication, yet.

He remembered the first time he’d seen him as if it were yesterday. He’d been standing on the dock, looking around like a lost, confused little puppy, which, as it turned out, he had been. Jongin wasn’t a Good Samaritan by any stretch of the imagination but something about Luhan, besides his perfect, angelic face, had drawn him to him. It had only taken one good look at him to get his baser instincts stirring but he’d felt something else that had shocked and shaken him to his core: concern. He’d genuinely cared what would happen to the boy – he hadn’t found out ‘til much later that he wasn’t a boy at all – and felt beholden to help him out.

He’d approached him carefully, shedding his usual cocky veneer since his only conscious intent was to find out if he could aid him in some way, but the moment Luhan had flashed that shy, embarrassed smile at him, cheeks whipped red by the wind, he’d been a goner.

He was the singularly most beautiful thing he’d ever set his eyes on.

Sure, he’d had a horrible haircut and his clothes had been even more so, cheap and ill-fitting, but the potential for greatness had been there. Jongin had always been a procurer, a collector, and Luhan was one more thing, unique to his eyes, that he needed to own.

He’d asked him tentative questions, where he was from and where he was going, which Luhan had thankfully been able to provide, but that introduced the biggest conflict in Jongin’s pursuit of his future lover: the language barrier. Luhan’s Korean was incredibly stilted, barely there to put it plainly, and Jongin spoke no Mandarin at all. Still, where there was a will there was a way. He’d noticed that Luhan’s eyes widened slightly whenever he flashed one of his -sure grins so with a few of those and some hand gestures, he’d somehow managed to wrangle him into accompanying him to dinner. The town that they were in didn’t offer much in the way of five-star hospitality but he’d been able to find a quaint little seaside restaurant that sufficed.

Dinner had been comical: he trying to lead the conversation in slow, enunciated Korean and Luhan nodding along engagingly, cheeks flushed and eyes bright though it was obvious that he’d had no idea what Jongin was saying. Jongin had never been more delighted. For all his lack of artifice, Luhan was simply charming. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He loved his little nose and how he nibbled on his bottom lip, the way he constantly fidgeted in his seat, flushing, always flushing, while he hung onto Jongin’s every word, his mouth sometimes moving along as if he were repeating the words back to himself to deduce their meaning.

It was unreal how perfect he was. Jongin couldn’t believe his luck.

And later, after dinner, he’d taken Luhan’s hand and led him out of the restaurant, down the street and into a cab. Luhan hadn’t pulled away, hadn’t tried to stop him. All he’d done was look around, gaping at the scenery as they passed. His mouth had fallen open when they’d arrived at the hotel an hour away in the next town over. Jongin wasn’t surprised that he’d never seen such opulence and it his ego that he’d been the one to introduce Luhan to such luxury.

He couldn’t say when he’d decided to have him; he just knew that he’d had to. He couldn’t say when he’d decided to keep him; he just knew that he’d needed to.

He hadn’t been surprised that Luhan was a . He’d known long before he’d touched him, long before he’d peeled off his ugly clothes to reveal the soft, pale, slender body beneath. He was flawless. There wasn’t a spot or scar on his delectable little body, nothing but a few moles here and there. It made Jongin feel honored, like he had no choice but to cherish him, to treat him with care. He was not going to ruin him, to mar him in any way that would spoil his perfection.

For the first time in his life, he’d made love to someone. He’d taken his time, awakening Luhan’s desire with gentle touches, lingering caresses, tender kisses. There’d been pain, unfortunately he couldn’t spare him that, but he’d made sure that that wasn’t all he would take from the experience. There’d been an abundance of pleasure to make up for any discomfort he’d experienced or would experience the day after. And later on, when he’d reached his own peak, he’d held him in his arms, listening to his breathing as he settled. He’d continued to hold Luhan as he’d fallen asleep, peppering his brow with soft kisses.

Luhan’s awakening had been something of a rebirth for him too. Something had awoken inside of him, something lying dormant that he’d never known was there to begin with. He’d bathed himself in Luhan’s innocence, his purity, and come out a better man on the other side. For the first time, he’d wanted to take care of another human being, to protect and provide for them. He’d always known that he’d have to get married one day, had figured he’d sow his oats until his parents ultimately found him a fitting wife, but he’d never even considered the possibility, however remote, that he’d find someone on his own. That he’d fall in love. He’d never believed in love at first sight, still didn’t, but he’d known that what he’d felt was more than lust. He’d definitely wanted Luhan again, even then, as he’d held him, his desire had begun to stir anew, but it was more than that. He couldn’t bear the thought of letting Luhan walk away from him in the morning. He couldn’t stomach the idea of his getting lost among the many poor and forgotten immigrants who came to this country every year hoping for a better life and finding out that the reality was quite the opposite. He couldn’t imagine someone else touching him the way he just had, delving into his body and robbing him of what was left of his innocence. Jongin would preserve it but in someone else’s grasp, harsh, uncaring hands, Luhan would become nothing but a broken doll. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He wouldn’t.

And that, as they say, was that.

“Jongin!”

He jumped in his skin as fingers snapped in front of his face to catch his attention.

“Where the hell were you? I’ve been calling your name for at least a minute,” she snapped, annoyance written in the crease of her perfectly arched brows.

“Sorry,” he said unapologetically, shrugging carelessly. “I must have tuned out somewhere after “she’s such a ”. I didn’t come here to listen to you go on and on about someone you profess to hate but whose you’re going to be kissing tomorrow.”

Her body stiffened and a soft growl emitted from .

Jongin sighed and ran a casual hand through his hair. He knew the moment her ire faded, saw the way her eyes dropped and clung to the curve of his pectorals revealed by the part in his half-ed shirt. It was an affected move, everything about his current position was. He’d done it without even realizing he was doing it, so used to acting had he become. He’d thrown his jacket somewhere as soon as he’d walked into the room, undid his tie and started ing his shirt before dropping onto the bed in one seamless movement. He never touched his pants. Women, he’d learned, preferred to do that for themselves. Something about unwrapping the “prize” or whatever.

She her lips hungrily before turning back to the mirror to re-apply her lipstick, as if a few spoken words had done some damage.

Dammit, he didn’t have time for this. He had to get out of there. He had to go…

Home.

Home. Where Luhan waited for him, probably with dinner ready. Luhan who had been by his side, taking care of and supporting him, ever since the day he’d brought him to Seoul and settled him in his home, his life. Luhan who had cheated on him with his one-time best friend. Luhan who he couldn’t even be angry with because he’d never been faithful to him. Luhan who was pure and good while he was dirty and conniving. Luhan who he couldn’t bear to touch for fear of tainting him because he was unfit, unclean, unworthy.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

“I can’t do this,” he heard himself say, his voice sounding like it was coming from a distance to his own ears.

“Hmm? What was that?”

Jongin sat up as she turned and walked towards him, trying to think of but not finding a suitable strategy to get himself out of this situation.

As she moved to straddle his lap, he put a halting hand on her hip, holding her in place.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he repeated, voice stronger. He swallowed thickly. “You, me. This needs to stop.”

She looked at him a moment, her eyes vacant and giving nothing away, before bursting into peals of laughter.

“Nice one, Jongin-ah.” Sighing dramatically, she curled her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry if I irritated you talking about her. Sometimes I need to get things off my chest and you know that I don’t have many friends.”

I wonder why, he thought sarcastically, but felt it best to keep it to himself.

“Let me make it up to you,” she purred in what he was sure she thought was a y voice but instead grated on his nerves.

Before she could drape herself over him, he dropped his hand and ducked out of her reach. It took him but a second to find his jacket and he picked it up, throwing it over his shoulder while he buttoned up his shirt and fixed his tie.

“Wait. You’re serious?” she asked, her tone incredulous.

He imagined that it was inconceivable, at least to her, that someone wouldn’t want her: would dare to walk away from her.

“I need to go home,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

“What brought this on?” A light seemed to go off in her head and her lips slanted into a cat-like smile. “You know, if it’s a functional problem, I’m sure that there are ways around it. You are quite skilled with your mouth, if memory serves, and it’s been a while since…”

“That’s not it,” he snapped, cutting her off.

Her expression immediately turned cold and hard again, disbelief shining in the depths of her dark eyes.

“What the is going on, Jongin? You know how this works. You’re not new to the rodeo so don’t pretend to be some kind of hapless here.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I don’t want to be with you?” he asked, his patience wearing thin.

“Have you seen me?” she drawled in retort, cocking a hip out as she placed a hand on her waist, daring him to negate her own obvious opinion of herself.

He paused in his movements to allow his eyes to trail over her. She was conventionally slim, tall and wispy. Not her s, though. She had a generous C-cup, currently encased in transparent black lace. He knew for a fact that they weren’t God-given. Neither was her nose, her chin or her full lips. Society would consider her pretty, beautiful even, but he knew true beauty. He’d been staring it in the face, waking up next to it, for almost three years. Crystal didn’t come close.

Shaking off his thoughts, he chose not to answer and instead resumed straightening his clothes, shrugging into his jacket once his shirt and tie were fixed.

“You can’t be serious,” she scoffed.

“Look, I’m sorry if the evening isn’t going the way you wanted it to. It’s really not you, it’s…”

“Well, I certainly don’t need you to tell me that,” she snapped. “Clearly I’m not the one with the problem. What is this, some of conscience? You suddenly realized that you can’t bear to cheat on your little China doll anymore?”

The way she spat china doll really raised his hackles but he ignored the surge of irritation, determined to keep things cordial between them.

“Yes,” he replied simply, because it was the truth after all. “Exactly that. He’s waiting for me and I’m going to go home and we’re going to have a nice dinner. Together.”

“You’re kidding yourself if you believe that he could ever fully satisfy you.”

Jongin paused at her words and it was the moment she needed, a chink in his armor. She stalked forward, a wildcat approaching its prey, and parked herself in front of him, her eyes wide and beseeching in a way that he immediately knew was purely a façade.

“Jongin-ah…” she said softly, kindly. “I don’t know what’s happening in that head of yours but let’s take a moment to talk about it. If something’s going on, you can tell me you know. I may come off as crass and abrupt but I do care about you, I hope you know that.”

Looking into her eyes, Jongin knew that it was all a ploy. She was trying to manipulate him, saying what she thought he wanted to hear. Despite the motivation behind it, however, he knew that her words were sincere. Had known for quite a while.

“I don’t know if you knew this,” she continued, “but I’ve been thinking about the future. About us. We’d make a good pair, don’t you think? I know Daddy, for one, would be totally on board. He adores you, as he should since you’ve made him a very rich man. Not that he wasn’t already ridiculously wealthy but you know what I mean. We’d be the Crown Princess and Prince of Seoul’s business world.” She laughed self-deprecatingly, her insecurity and nervousness stirring a pang of pity in his gut.

He did know what she was talking about. He’d thought about it himself, not just as a career move but because they were well matched. They were of equal intelligence, ambitious and they were certainly compatible in the bedroom. Also, and most importantly, though he might loudly proclaim that he didn’t care what his parents thought or wanted, deep down he did and he knew that they would consider his marrying Crystal a personal coup. Once upon a time, that would’ve been enough. The perfect wife, the perfect job, a successful future. Once upon a time, those things were all that had mattered and he’d told himself that he would’ve been content. He’d stopped lying to himself months ago, though, right around the time he’d realized that he was losing Luhan. He’d been floundering ever since and the time had finally come for him to put up or shut up. He couldn’t toe the line anymore.

As he looked at her with new eyes he wondered what he’d ever seen in her. She was still attractive, technically, but when he thought of all the things he’d seen her do to get her own way, the way she spoke ill of all of her friends behind their backs, the way she sometimes tried to lord her position over him, he realized that he didn’t even like her. He might even hate her. How he could’ve considered tying himself to someone like that for the rest of his life was beyond him. He’d told his mother that he might have wanted to marry for love if he ever found it yet he’d actually contemplated doing exactly what she wanted without her direct involvement. What a mistake that would have been.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said, moving around her and heading to the door.

As he picked up his briefcase and put a hand on the doorknob, she said, “Kim Jongin, if you leave this room, that is it. Your life is over.”

For the second time, Jongin paused. He wasn’t surprised that she’d gone there. It was exactly what he would’ve done in her position. She’d played the only card left in her hand. And she would do it too, he knew. Her ego would demand retribution.

It would’ve worked once upon a time, back when his career had been his life because that was what she’d meant. To people like them, their jobs were everything. Making money, climbing the proverbial ladder, was how they measured success and personal happiness. He’d been a fool for ever thinking that, though. He knew better now.

He turned slightly, catching her eyes over his shoulder. “Go ahead.”

“I mean it!” Her voice was like a whip, seeking to strike and scar and make him bleed. “You’ve come a long way from where you began but you’re still just an errand boy. The firm’s . A dog at the whim and mercy of his master. Don’t forget your place.”

Jongin couldn’t help but laugh at her analogy. How fitting.

“Funny thing about dogs,” he drawled, turning and walking back towards her. He let his eyes rove over her barely clad figure before settling on her face, knowing that it added to the implied insult. “We may just be the grunts, our masters’ servants, but we also do all of the hard, and often dirty, work. To put it simply: we know where all the bones are buried.” He lowered his mouth to her ear as he whispered, “Every. Last. One of them.”

Straightening, he flashed her his most charming smile.

“Tell my master I’m taking that vacation I’ve been putting off for so long,” he quipped, walking quickly to the door. “And tell your father I’ll be in touch.”

As he closed the door behind him, he heard a roar of outrage, followed by breaking glass, and a hysterical giggle bubbled up in his throat.

He wasn’t worried. Crystal’s father might not be too happy with his jilting his daughter but he was a businessman first and foremost and Jongin had proven himself far too useful and efficient for him to be dismissed for such a minor slight. He was similarly confident that his boss would agree. After all, if it ever became known that he’d been supplying ual favors for clients of his company, there could be serious legal ramifications. None of the parties involved would ever let that happen. He was safe.

As he made his way down in the elevator, his smile fell and his mood turned somber.

“Breaking up” with Crystal was actually the easy part, he realized now that his mind was clear. The second phase would be the most trying but it was necessary. If there was going to be a future for them, a chance to make their relationship work, he had to come clean. It scared him to death, the thought that today might be the day he lost Luhan, but he had to.

Luhan had been giving him his all for so long, long before Sehun came and rocked their already unstable boat. It was time that Jongin, finally, did the same.

Have you been dancing?

Luhan chewed on his lip thoughtfully, thinking about what to say before typing his reply.

I’ve been thinking about going back. They called yesterday to ask if I’m still interested in participating in the showcase. I told them I’d get back to them today.

He didn’t have to wait long before another email came.

Do it. You’re very talented. You were born for this.

Luhan blushed, his eyes dropping from the screen for a moment even though Sehun couldn’t see him.

His gaze flirted over the chat option in the email but he didn’t activate it. He was sure that Sehun was aware of its existence as well but he’d never made any attempt to get Luhan to use it, for which he was grateful. Chat messengers were too much like texting and texting was one step away from a phone call. It was too personal, too close. He, they, needed this semblance of distance. Even if it was only in his mind.

Another email arrived and he smiled to himself, immediately opening it. He chuckled when he saw that it had an mp3 file attached.

Don’t you draw or paint anymore? You’re supposed to be an artist, you know.

Ten seconds later, another email arrived and he opened it expecting a written response but instead, he found himself gasping, his heart skipping a beat when his eyes landed on the image before him.

It was a sketch, the artist obvious in the signature lines that were uniquely Sehun. That and the fact that he was staring at himself. He didn’t have to search his memory bank to place the scene. He was literally looking at himself looking at himself. It was a snapshot of their stolen moment together in the bathroom a couple of weeks before. He was standing in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection but not really seeing himself, so lost in thought he’d been. Behind him, Sehun stood a silent, haunting shadow. His expression was dark, unreadable; his individual features barely discernible.

To someone else it might have been creepy. There was nothing light or joyful about it. It was simply intense. But to him, it was just another example of Sehun’s incredible talent, his ability to draw inspiration from something so brief and insignificant and turn it into something that spoke volumes, even if Luhan had no idea what it was saying. The blurriness of Sehun’s face frightened him just a bit and it made him wonder if that was how Sehun saw himself, as something or someone who wasn’t quite whole, not really there. A chill ran down his spine.

“Luhan! Are you here?”

He jumped in his skin, almost knocking his laptop off the bed as he sprang up in surprise.

He’d been so drawn into the photo that he hadn’t heard Jongin pull up.

“Luhan?  Can you come down please?”

Gotta go, he typed hastily, logging out of his email before slamming the laptop shut.

He quickly made his way downstairs, apprehension settling in his stomach. Jongin’s voice sounded just short of frantic. It made him nervous.

He found him in the kitchen, the heels of his Italian loafers clicking on the tiles as he paced.

“Jongin, what…”

He’d barely spoken a word before Jongin spun around and snatched him up into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

Jongin buried his face in Luhan’s neck, taking a deep breath before releasing it slowly and Luhan’s anxiety level hit an all-time high. Something was definitely wrong if Jongin was acting this way.

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Jongin as best he could and gently his back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Jongin didn’t respond immediately. Instead he stepped back, looking into Luhan’s eyes for a long moment before taking his hand and leading him to the dining table. He pulled out a chair and pressed Luhan into it. Luhan fully expected him to sit beside or across from him so it was with no small measure of surprise that he watched Jongin drop to his knees in front of him, taking Luhan’s hands in his.

“Jongin…you’re scaring me,” he choked. “What happened?”

“I have to tell you something” Jongin whispered, his voice sounding tortured and more than a little husky, as if he’d been crying. The redness in his eyes scared Luhan. He’d never seen Jongin cry, not in all the time that he’d known him. “I know that there’s a chance that once I tell you, you’ll hate me. I can never take it back.”

Luhan shook his head, confused. “I could never hate you.” It was true. There wasn’t anything Jongin could say or do that he hadn’t already said or done – or that Luhan didn’t already suspect that he’d said or done behind his back – that would make Luhan hate him. He cared about him far too much for that. Still, it scared him to hear Jongin sound so broken.

“You say that now but you don’t know. Once you do, you’ll never look at me the same.” Jongin stopped, his breath seeming to cut off on him. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Luhan gripped Jongin’s hands where he held them, terror sending shivers down his spine. “You won’t. Now, please. Just tell me.”

And he did.

Jongin bared his soul to Luhan in a way that Luhan never would have thought possible. To say that the things he revealed were shocking was an understatement but once the ball started rolling, Jongin couldn’t seem to stop.

He told him about the affairs, about how they’d started before they’d even met but hadn’t stopped once they’d gotten together. It hurt, knowing that Jongin had never truly been faithful to him, even if he understood why he’d done what he had. But, now that he thought about it, what should he have expected? Jongin had been a stranger to him then. He still was now in many ways, he realized. He’d suspected Jongin of being unfaithful before and he’d been right. Jongin admitted that their worst days, when he would come home and criticize every little thing that Luhan did, making Luhan feel like he wasn’t enough, were the days when his own self-hatred had been too much to bear and he’d directed it outward. Luhan was simply too good, he said, and in comparison, after everything he’d done to make that money that had been like the Holy Grail to him for so long, he was filth. He couldn’t bear to look Luhan in the eye, to be in his presence while he still felt someone else’s touch, their scent, on him, and he’d felt inferior. He’d hated it, sometimes thought he hated Luhan for making him feel that way. But it wasn’t his fault, Jongin assured him. He’d been living the life he’d thought he’d wanted for so long that when he’d met Luhan, unsure of whether they’d last or not, he hadn’t seen any reason to change. He’d cared for Luhan but Luhan was still an unknown variable at that point. What Luhan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. But the longer they were together, regardless of how turbulent things got on occasion, the more he’d realized that he couldn’t let Luhan go. He didn’t just need him, he wanted him in his life. Despite things getting better in his career, however, he hadn’t been in a position to stop what he’d started. She had been the only one from them on, he assured him, though Luhan had no idea who she was. He was tempted to ask, feeling humiliated that he had probably looked her in the face, welcomed her into their home, not knowing that she was screwing his boyfriend behind his back.

It had all become too much for him to bear, especially now when he was forced to admit that he was losing Luhan, had been for a long time, and it was through no one’s fault but his own. Sehun had warned him, he said, that someone would come along and steal Luhan from him if he wasn’t careful. He’d just had no idea that Sehun would be that person. Luhan was staggered to hear that. He’d had no idea that Sehun had had any such conversation with Jongin. They’d both been keeping things from him, it seemed.

“I’m so sorry,” Jongin said for the millionth time. “I love you so much, I just… I was cocky and arrogant and so very wrong. I thought I knew myself but I couldn’t have been more clueless. I don’t know why I couldn’t just say that before, why I couldn’t do what you needed me to. You’ve never asked for anything. Do you know how much that drives me crazy? I don’t know how to please you.”

Luhan’s eyes burned and he took a deep breath to keep his emotions in check. “I’m not your mother, Jongin-ah,” he said gently, placing a hand on his cheek. “I don’t want you to please  me. I never have. I just wanted you. Only you.”

“Do you still want me? Will you give me another chance? I finally took that vacation I’ve been promising so long, although technically I might just be unemployed…”

Luhan gasped, eyes widening in shock. Unemployed? He couldn’t imagine Jongin not working. He loved his job too much.

“No, don’t even think about that. We’re good. We’ll be fine. Just…tell me you’ll give me another chance. Give us another chance. I’ll show you that I mean it this time. I’ll earn your trust and your love.”

“Jongin…”

“Please,” he beseeched. “I meant everything I said to you the last time, I just didn’t realize then that you were even more important to me than work. I do now, I promise. One more chance. Please, Luhan.”

One minute. One more. Déjà vu.

It was terrifying, looking into Jongin’s eyes and seeing the truth, seeing how vulnerable he was at the very core of him. All Luhan had ever wanted was for Jongin to let him in, to peel back some of his protective layers and show him who he really was deep down and here he was, finally doing so. But was it too late?

No. It wasn’t.

I still love him, he realized with something akin to awe. It was a bit of a revelation even though he’d known that he had. There was love and then there was love. In that moment, looking down into Jongin’s splotchy, not-too-attractive face, defenses lowered for the second time ever, he felt both.

“Okay,” Luhan replied, flashing a small smile as he lifted his other hand to Jongin’s tear-streaked cheek, wiping the moisture away. “Okay.”

As if his body suddenly gave out, Jongin melted into Luhan, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in his lap.

“Shhh,” Luhan soothed, rubbing circles into his back as he lowered his cheek to the top of Jongin’s head. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

At least, he hoped they would be. He prayed for some well of inner strength to appear to help them get through this storm.

He was positive they were going to need it.

A/N: I'm over on Twitter if you want to talk[rant at me]... *runs far away*