Sehun strutted into the classroom--studio like he owned the place.

Following silently behind him, eyebrows raised curiously, Luhan watched as he stepped behind the podium, whipped off his Gucci sunglasses and surveyed the full class with an upturned nose, as if he smelled something unpleasant. As he opened his mouth to speak, Luhan braced himself but when a huge smile broke across Sehun’s face, he realized that he need not have worried.

“You were expecting something like that, weren’t you?” Sehun asked to everyone and no one in particular, his gaze bouncing from person to person, gauging reactions. “The hot-shot artiste that everyone keeps raving about must have an ego as big as his head, right?” He chuckled. “Well, sorry to burst your bubble but you’re going to have to make do with me.”

Placing the sunglasses on the desk of the podium, he shrugged out of the expensively tailored jacket he wore, carelessly tossing it onto a nearby chair, then proceeded to pull the hem of his t-shirt out of his pants.

“Ahh, that’s more like it. Let’s start over.”

He walked out of the classroom, waited a beat, then strode back in. Standing beside the podium, he bowed to the class in greeting.

“Hello, I am Oh Sehun. Thank you for having me.”

A soft murmur spread throughout the class and Luhan could see the surprise on everyone’s faces as they realized that Sehun was the opposite of what they’d expected. He rolled his eyes at Sehun’s theatrics but couldn’t suppress the smile that tilted his lips. As far as ice-breakers went, Sehun’s was an unmitigated success.

“First of all,” Sehun began as he stepped behind the podium once more, “let me just say that I don’t know the first thing about teaching. I honestly don’t know why I’m here. Like you, I’m still a student, still polishing my technique. I just happened to get lucky and make a few dollars off of some stuff I did,” he joked, eliciting laughter from the class. “And now they expect me to know how to pass that knowledge onto you guys. If you came here hoping that I could give you the formula to becoming a rich, famous artist then I’m sorry to say that you’re going to be disappointed. I apologize in advance.”

Chuckling to himself, Luhan walked behind Sehun and placed their bags on the table that had been set up for him in the corner off to the side.

“Oh, before I forget. This…” Sehun grabbed an unsuspecting Luhan and dragged him to his side. “…is my assistant, Mr. Lu Han. He handles…well…everything. All I do is paint and draw. Luhan does everything else for me. I don’t know what I’d do without him. I’d probably have starved to death. No joke!” he insisted when the class laughed yet again. “I get so lost in what I’m doing that I sometimes forget to eat. It got so bad at one point last year that I developed a stomach ulcer. It’s not something I ever want to experience again for as long as I live. Anyway…” He released Luhan and steepled his fingers on the podium as he perused the class.

It was a diverse group, men and women, the very young and the middle aged, and a lot of them. There had to be at least a hundred people looking back at him with expressions ranging from awe to enthusiastic expectation. He wasn’t exactly sure how much of an impact he could possibly have on a class of that size considering that the practical side of things would have to be limited since the class was a mere two hours.

Putting his worries aside, he left the podium once more as he began to speak.

“So I thought that for our first day, instead of rushing into anything, we could get to know each other. So we’re going to have an impromptu Q&A session. You ask, I’ll answer. No holds barred, although I do reserve the right to decline.”

Before he even finished speaking, hands shot into the air.

Pointing at a young man in front, Sehun leaned against the podium and said, “Hit me.”

“So like…when you lived in America, being famous and all, you met a lot famous people too right?”

Sehun shrugged. “I guess.”

“Well…did you ever hookup with any of them?”

Sehun burst out laughing. “Wow, you didn’t waste any time did you? No, I didn’t date anyone famous. At least…not by your standards,” he said teasingly.

“What inspires you?” a sweet-looking older woman asked next.

“Everything,” Sehun said simply. “I see promise in everything, in everyone. Sometimes I’ll see something, a broken seashell on the beach or a random face in a crowd perhaps and I’ll rush home and just start sketching. I’ve done more sketches than portraits because not everything translates well in paint and sometimes…well, the simpler the better.”

“Are you working on anything right now?”

“I just finished a portrait for a friend. I have a few offers that I’m considering but nothing’s set in stone yet.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Sehun looked over at the owner of the voice. She was young, pretty and exuded uality and sensuality. It was completely contrived, though. It was obvious that she put a lot of effort into the big neon blaring at him when he looked at her. The way she was dressed – a figure-hugging sweater paired with a matching micro-mini skirt and pumps –, the way she sat – reclining with her legs crossed at the knees – even the way she held her pen, tapping it rhythmically at the side of her plush, glossy lips.

As if that wasn’t enough, her darkly outlined eyes roved over him hungrily. He got the message, loud and clear. He simply wasn’t interested.

“No,” he finally answered.

A perfectly shaped brow arched. “Boyfriend?”

His lips twitched. “No.”

“Do you want…”

“How about we get back to the reason we’re here?” he interrupted. “Hmm? Who’s next?”

The rest of the attendees were more than happy to ask questions relative to the class and he found that he enjoyed talking about his experiences, a lot more than he’d expected he would. It gave him the opportunity to reminisce about what had been, thus far, the most interesting chapter in his life.

While Sehun did his thing, Luhan watched, enraptured. He was such a fascinating man. Despite his relatively young age, he’d had such a full life already. Luhan couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. Compared to Sehun, he hadn’t accomplished much so far, if anything at all. Still, he wouldn’t begrudge Sehun his good fortune. He could tell from the way he spoke how much he was enjoying sharing his life with these people who were so eager to listen. Minus the girl who looked like she was starving and Sehun was her meal of choice. He was surprised to realize that he was having uncharacteristically unpleasant thoughts about her but he couldn’t help it. Did she have no shame? She wasn’t even trying to hide her interest and the way she had badgered him about his relationship status was just…

Grinding his teeth, he looked back at Sehun and forced himself to concentrate on what he was saying.

The time passed faster than expected and before they knew it, Sehun was wrapping up. He once more expressed his honor at being invited to lecture at the university and then bid everyone goodbye until their next class. As people filed out, they stopped to exchange a few words with him.

Luhan was packing up his things when he noticed that the “hungry” girl was hovering near the back of the class, as if she was waiting for everyone to leave before going up to Sehun. Frowning, he kept an eye on her while he continued to pack.

When the last person said their goodbye, she made her move.

She strode straight up to Sehun, the heels of her pumps clicking a staccato beat as she approached, both men watching her warily.

“Can I help you?”

She stopped directly in front of Sehun and made a show of tucking her hair behind her ears, her fingers calculatingly trailing down her neck before she dropped her hand.

“I was wondering…” She spoke slowly, her lips pouting exaggeratedly. “Do you give private lessons?”

Sehun frowned slightly. “Lessons?”

“Well, you see, I only recently switched majors so I’m a bit behind the others and I’m afraid I’ll fail since it doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to them.”

“Why did you switch then?” he asked bluntly.

She had the grace to blush. “It seemed interesting.”

“I see. Well, as of right now I don’t give lessons and it would be unfair to the others if I showed you preferential treatment but we’ll see if we can work something out.”

Triumph shone in her eyes, a feral smile settling across her shiny lips.

“Luhan…” Sehun waited until Luhan stepped up beside him before continuing. “Take her information, please. I’ll see if I can find an acquaintance who can take her.”

Her smile fell immediately. “What? I don’t…”

“Like I said, it wouldn’t be fair to the others. Also, between my own work and lecturing, I won’t have the time to teach anyone.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” she protested, sounding like the brat she undoubtedly was.

“Well, then, I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” Sehun said simply.

He could see the fury in her eyes, no doubt unused to rejection, and he expected her to give up but she surprised him by making one last effort.

“Well…can I at least have your contact information in case I need to ask you something or I change my mind about the lessons?”

“Sure. Luhan?”

Luhan went to his bag, dug out a card, and brought it over, holding it out to her.

As she took it and read, she frowned. “Lu Han. It’s his card. It has all of his information on it.”

Sehun slid an arm around Luhan’s shoulders. “His information is my information. Did you miss the part where I said that he handles everything for me? Trust me, it’s better that way. I can be incredibly forgetful whereas should you need something, Luhan will take very good care of you.”

“Very good care,” Luhan repeated, not bothering to hide his smug smile.

With a grand huff and a parting glare for them both, she her heels and clicked her way out the door.

As soon as she was gone, Sehun breathed a sigh of relief. “Man, I don’t know how I’m going to deal with her for the next month. She looks persistent.”

Luhan nodded his agreement.

“I’ll need your help in keeping her in line.”

“I think I can handle that.”

As he walked back to table, a slow smile spread across Luhan’s lips.

I’ll make sure of it.

A few days later, Sehun was sitting at his easel staring at what was unquestionably his least favorite of all the pieces he’d ever done in his professional career. Or ever.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there but he was pretty sure that it hadn’t been dark outside when he’d first sat down.

He’d finished it, though he’d wanted to rip it to shreds every step of the way. He knew that he’d done his best considering how uninspired he’d been. Every fiber of his being had fought against it so his artistic juices had literally dried up where this piece was concerned. But it was done, finally.

Looking at it objectively, he didn’t think the casual collector or art-lover would be able to tell that his heart hadn’t been in it. He’d done a pretty good job of using the setup that the commissioner had presented. He’d even chosen a nice frame to go along with it.

If he was honest with himself, he could easily admit that he really didn’t give a damn. He’d done what Jongin had asked of him, though it had killed him to do so, and he’d done it respectably. But whether Jongin liked it or not…he couldn’t be bothered. Jongin had made his point when he’d commissioned the piece. That Sehun had actually gone through with it was merely a technicality.

As his eyes moved over Luhan’s face, he wondered how he, the subject, would feel when he looked at it. Would it be a constant reminder of his humiliation? Most likely, which only made Sehun want to destroy it even more. The thought of Luhan having to come face to face with it day in and day out made him miserable. He’d sworn never to hurt Luhan but by commissioning him to do the portrait, Jongin had, in essence, made him an accomplice to his ongoing ill-treatment of Luhan. That didn’t sit well with him at all.

And yet, like the you are, you did it anyway.

Sighing, he began wrapping it carefully. The delivery service would be coming to collect it in the morning.

Though it pained him to think of Luhan being hurt, he had to give himself some credit for trying to alleviate the harshness, the almost -esque quality, of Jongin’s pose. He’d softened the lighting around Luhan, relaxed the tense sadness that had emanated from his face and body, so that instead of looking like what he had been, shocked, betrayed, embarrassed, possibly heart-broken, he looked dreamy, like his body was there but his mind was in some far off place.

A happy place where his boyfriend didn’t spend his days thinking of ways to further break him down.

Sehun only hoped that Luhan saw this, his version, when he looked at it.

He finished wrapping and boxing the portrait and was about to scribble Jongin’s name on the box when a thought came to him.

He should just take it to Jongin himself.

In truth, he didn’t want the portrait in his house for another day, another night, not another minute if he could help it. He might be able to sleep better once it was gone, once its taint had been removed.

Luhan had long since left for home but a quick glance at the wall clock told him that Jongin was probably still at work. Isn’t he always?, he thought sarcastically.

He hefted the box, grabbed his car keys and headed out.

Jongin’s office was an hour’s drive into the city and it was possible that he might not even be there when he arrived but somehow he knew that he wouldn’t be disappointed. Jongin was nothing if not a creature of habit.

He knew that he could have sent it home with Luhan but the minute that the thought had come into his head, he’d rejected it. He didn’t want Luhan tainted or haunted by it either and wouldn’t he, being the subject of the portrait, be tempted to open it? Even if his seeing it was delayed by a few hours, Sehun wanted to give him that. Let him sleep peacefully before he was forced to deal with his boyfriend’s crap yet again.

Besides, it would be the conclusion of a sort of throwing down of gauntlets between him and Jongin.

When he finally arrived at the building, Sehun walked directly to the guard at the security desk.

He didn’t bother to ask if Kim Jongin was in, he simply said that he was expected. The guard rang up and sure enough, he was cleared to go up.

Jongin’s office was on the 45^th floor of the building: high enough to show that he mattered but low enough to indicate that he still had a ways to go before he reached the top. He wasn’t a big boy yet, but not quite a tadpole either.

When he stepped off the elevator, a chicly dressed young woman was waiting to lead him down the hall to where Jongin waited outside the double doors of a room.

“Sehun-ah. What are you doing here?” he asked, uneasy surprise etched into his face.

Sehun smiled slightly, holding up the box. “Delivery.”

“Oh. I thought you were having it sent? I never expected you to deliver it in person.”

“I find that it adds a nice touch and ensures repeat customers. Besides, I was in the area and it was in my car so…” A lie: easily spoken, no regrets.

Jongin nodded. “Okay. Well, thanks.”

“I hope that it’s to your liking.”

Jongin nodded again. “I’m sure it will be. You haven’t done anything that I haven’t loved.”

Sehun handed over the box and for a long moment, the two stood awkwardly, neither one knowing what to say or how to extricate themselves.

Had their relationship really come down to this?, Sehun wondered.

When he’d run into Jongin that first time, after returning to Korea, they’d reconnected easily, as if the years had changed nothing between them. But all that changed the night he walked into Jongin’s home and met Luhan. As time passed and he’d gotten to know Luhan better, and Luhan had come to mean more to him, his feelings towards Jongin had also changed.

He realized, had to admit to himself, that that wasn’t Jongin’s fault. Every issue he had with Jongin was related to Luhan. Jongin had done nothing to him personally. Was it unfair for him to judge Jongin based on his disapproval of the way Jongin handled things with Luhan? Certainly. But he couldn’t separate the two, had given up trying. Had never even bothered to try, to be honest. Regardless of whether Jongin was the best friend he could be to him, it was hard to overlook the way Jongin treated and took advantage of Luhan. As a person, a fellow human being, how could he? It was said that one’s friends are a reflection of who they are. If he continued to associate with Jongin without acknowledging that he had a problem with the way Jongin dealt with Luhan then what would that say about him? No one would know, of course, but he would. And he couldn’t live with that. His non-platonic feelings towards Luhan were just icing at this point. Or perhaps they had started out that way. He wouldn’t lie to himself. His biggest problem with Jongin now was the fact that he didn’t deserve Luhan. Even if Luhan didn’t care for him that way, he at least wanted him to be with someone who would treat him right. The icing in this new situation would be if he were that person.

“Well, I was actually in a meeting so I guess I’d better get back to it,” Jongin said, finally breaking the silence.

“Oh, sorry for disturbing you then,” Sehun replied politely.

Jongin smiled. “It’s okay. Thanks for bringing it by.”

“No problem.”

Sehun sent Jongin a brief wave before turning  and walking back the way he’d come.

Now that that’s done, he thought, I can go home and return to daydreaming about the one person in the world that I can never have. Lovely.

It was almost midnight when Jongin finally let himself into the house.

He dropped his briefcase beside the door, knowing that he would be on his way out in mere hours, leaned the portrait up against the wall and headed for the bedroom.

He hadn’t expected Luhan to be awake so he wasn’t surprised when he found him curled up in bed, sound asleep. The days of Luhan staying up to wait for him to arrive safely were clearly over.

Shrugging off the fingers of regret that at him, he strode into the bathroom and stripped. As he stepped into the shower, temperature blisteringly hot, he winced when the water first touched his skin. He needed it, though. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

And emotionally, he thought. If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t ignore the possibility, the probability, that the emotional fatigue contributed heavily to the other two.

Things with Luhan weren’t good and while he wasn’t happy about it either, he didn’t have the time to fix things. He could make time, he supposed, just as he had when Sehun had scared him with the thought of losing Luhan to someone else. Those had been the best days of his life in recent memory and they’d ended far too quickly. But work was work and he couldn’t forget that he had a goal. He wanted to be a partner in the firm by the age of thirty: the youngest ever. It was an aim that required sacrifice, on both their parts. Luhan knew and supported him, so though he might not like the fact that their personal time was so little, he knew that it wasn’t for naught. He’d known how important work was to Jongin when they’d first gotten together. He’d stayed with him for two years so clearly he was okay with it.

Right?

He soaped, shampooed quickly and when all the suds had washed down the drain, he stayed beneath the scorching spray for a while longer, letting the heat ease the aches and stress from his weary bones.

When he had finally dried off and dressed, he went back out to the foyer to retrieve the portrait.

He wasn’t exactly sure where to put it. It wasn’t valuable in any real sense, not like the pieces in his gallery were, and yet it was the most valuable sentimentally because it was painted specifically for him by a close friend – though the status of their relationship was currently questionable – and the subject of the portrait was near and dear to his heart.

Squatting down, he opened the box, unwrapped the portrait, and held it in his hands, staring down at his boyfriend’s all too familiar face.

He’d immediately regretted his actions that day but pride, and stubbornness, wouldn’t allow him to apologize. Even though he knew now that he’d been wrong, at the time he’d truly felt threatened, like Sehun was encroaching on his territory. He’d never felt that way before. He could admit that his actions had been rash and he especially hated the way Luhan had looked, how awful he’d probably felt. But he’d never apologized for that either. Saying sorry was something he’d never been taught to do. His parents were arrogant pricks, therefore, they’d raised him in their image. They’d taught him never to be or say sorry. If you were wrong, nothing came from admitting it. There were always ways to mend fences without admitting culpability. Their methods usually involved money but he knew that wouldn’t work with Luhan. He’d already given Luhan everything that money could buy, and the money to buy anything that Jongin hadn’t yet provided for him. Despite what he’d been taught, he’d wanted to apologize, had been sorely tempted to, but saying he was sorry would open the doorway for Luhan to ask questions and the most obvious question was the one he was least prepared to answer.

Why had he acted that way?

He would cut out his tongue before he ever admitted that, for a brief moment, he’d been afraid. And jealous.

Focusing on the portrait once more, he ignored the stab of guilt that pierced his heart.

The portrait was different. He could see it immediately. Even to his own eyes, the way he’d arranged Luhan – and what he’d done after – had been crude. He’d worried and wondered about whether Sehun would make an exact adaptation or tweak it in some way. Obviously, he’d chosen the latter, for which Jongin was grateful. Things with Luhan were bad enough as it was, he really didn’t want to make them any worse when Luhan saw the portrait. He would probably be uncomfortable regardless but Sehun had made it as such that the beauty of it, of Luhan, far outshone and outreached how it had come to be.

Yet again, he was in Sehun’s debt.

Sehun, his dongsaeng, his friend, who seemed to despise him as much as he sometimes despised himself.

Sighing again, he settled back on his buttocks, gazing down at the portrait, and wondered if he was doomed to alienate everyone he cared about.

Luhan finished zipping his bag closed, stood and stretched before making his way around the partition.

He frowned when he didn’t see Sehun. He hadn’t heard any movement for at least an hour but Sehun never really made any noise when he worked, other than occasionally humming along to whatever he happened to be listening to. He’d been busy replying to emails from students in the art class, arranging office hours for those who wanted to chat with Sehun in person. Anyone was welcome…except for the hungry girl.

Thinking about her automatically spoiled his mood and he found himself scowling for a few minutes. She kept trying to catch Sehun’s attention, even if it meant disrupting the class. Sehun was on the verge of kicking her out, had even inquired about it when he’d spoken with the Dean. Unfortunately, it appeared that she was the daughter of one of the university's most generous donors so the Dean had begged Sehun to tread carefully with her. He understood Sehun’s situation and didn’t want to offend him but he also couldn’t risk losing his donor.

Politics, Luhan thought bitterly. It caused wars and ruined – or at least inconvenienced – lives on a daily basis.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen in search of his boss. His driver would be there soon and he wanted to pass on a few messages to Sehun before he left.

Sehun wasn’t in the kitchen but Luhan checked the fridge to make sure that there was plenty of food readily available for him. It was hard enough to get him to eat when he was around, he could only imagine how long Sehun went without eating when he wasn’t.

After a thorough search of the rooms on the first floor, he concluded that Sehun was upstairs.

He was a bit hesitant to venture into what was essentially Sehun’s private quarters, his home home. Despite his warning about disappearing for naps when Luhan first began working, no such thing had ever occurred thus he’d never set foot upstairs since that very day.

He felt like an intruder, but he couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye…

Climbing the stairs slowly, he called up, not too loudly just in case Sehun really was asleep.

“Sehun-ah?”

When he got to the top of the stairs, he stopped and called again.

“Sehun?”

Nothing. Not a sound.

He began making his way down the hall and he could see light streaming out of the slightly ajar door of the day room. Stopping outside, he peeked through the small space and made out a man-shaped lump beneath the covers on the bed.

Smiling to himself, he pushed the door open and quietly stepped into the room. He should probably go back downstairs and simply leave Sehun a note, he knew, but he couldn’t resist the chance to see Sehun sleeping. He might never get the opportunity again.

As he stopped beside the bed and looked down at his employer-dongsaeng, his first thought was that he was utterly adorable. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the covers pulled up beneath his chin. It was only when he noticed the flush in Sehun’s cheeks and the soft sniffling coming from his nose that he realized something wasn’t quite right.

“Sehunnie?”

Reaching down, he placed a hand on Sehun’s forehead, frowning when it came away warm.

“Sehun?”

He sat beside Sehun and rolled back the blankets.

“Are you not feeling well? What’s wrong?”

Groaning softly, Sehun opened his eyes and peered up at him. “I’ll be okay. Think I caught a little cold or something.”

A cold? Sehun had seemed fine earlier that day. Although…he had been uncharacteristically quiet. Luhan had been too anxious to get to work and too busy since to think anything of it. They hadn’t eaten lunch together either, which was also unusual for them, so he hadn’t had a clue since Sehun hadn’t indicated that he was ill.

“Did you catch a bug or something?” he asked, unconsciously Sehun’s forehead.

“I think it’s just allergies. I cleaned yesterday. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it’s become a little dusty around here lately,” Sehun joked, the effort falling flat when he winced in pain and sniffled again.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve taken care of it.”

“You had enough on your plate. It’s not your responsibility either. I didn’t hire you to be my maid, although I‘m sure you would do justice to one of those y French uniforms.”

Luhan rolled his eyes, chuckling softly. It was a measure of his character that even while being sick and obviously uncomfortable, Sehun could still crack his cheesy one-liners.

“Can I do anything for you? Do you have medicine? I can go get it for you.”

Luhan stood but before he could move away, Sehun stuck his hand out, quick as a snake’s strike, and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay,” he whispered hoarsely.

“It won’t take but a minute. I’ll be right…”

Using what little strength he could muster, Sehun tugged Luhan back down onto the bed and flopped into his lap, burrowing against his belly before quieting down again.

“Okay, okay. I get it.”

Chuckling softly, Luhan shifted so that he was more comfortably seated on the bed and started Sehun’s hair and cheek.

“Our Sehunnie…What did you do to yourself, hmm?”

Sehun didn’t move or say another word so Luhan assumed that he had fallen asleep again.

Unbeknownst to him, Sehun was very much awake, relishing his gentle touches and the soft, soothing timbre of his voice. Sehun burrowed closer, under the guise of sleep, his arm curling around Luhan’s hip, effectively anchoring himself to him and ensuring that Luhan couldn’t move.

“There, there,” Luhan murmured, Sehun’s cheek, his thumb passing dangerously close to the plump curve of his lips.  “Be at peace.”

Only when he was sure that Luhan wouldn’t leave did Sehun finally give in to the tendrils of blackness bleeding into his consciousness, the sound of Luhan’s soft voice crooning in Mandarin lulling him to sleep.

He must have drifted off, Luhan realized, because when his phone vibrated on the nightstand next to him, he jumped.

Settling himself quickly so as not to wake Sehun, he picked up his phone and read the text.

Where are you?

Ignoring it, he looked at the time.

9:07.

His eyes widened in surprise. He'd had no idea that it was so late.

He’d cancelled his driver and after Sehun had drifted off, he’d stayed with him for at least an hour, making sure that he wouldn’t wake up, before he went downstairs. He’d gone straight to the kitchen and whipped up a chicken and vegetable soup, which he’d dished out and brought upstairs on a small bed-tray that he’d found. He’d woken Sehun up and spoon-fed him the hot broth. He’d grumbled but complied like a good little soldier.

“You’re the easiest patient I’ve ever had,” Luhan had complimented.

“You make it easy to be easy,” Sehun had replied hazily.

His fever had worsened and his nose had begun running steadily once he’d finished eating the soup but it was part of the healing process, Luhan knew, so he’d squashed his sympathy and wiped Sehun’s nose before tucking him back into bed. Sehun had refused to go back to sleep until he was next to him again, however, so he’d quickly washed the dishes and locked up. The lights were on a timer so he hadn’t had to worry about that.

On his way back, he’d stopped in Sehun’s small but serviceable library for some reading material. Sehun wasn’t an avid reader so there wasn’t much of a variety but he had an extensive collection of art books and magazines so Luhan had chosen one of those and brought it upstairs. Once he’d settled onto the bed again, propped up against the pillowed headboard, Sehun had sought the comfort of his lap again and promptly fallen asleep.

Now, he realized, so had he.

The book he’d been looking through lay open on the bed beside him – indicating that he’d had the presence of mind to put it there – and Sehun was still in his lap, dozing peacefully, mouth slightly parted since he couldn’t breathe properly through his nostrils.

He looked…perfect. Like an angel, both innocent and lovely.

He was sure that Sehun would strongly disagree if he ever said it out loud but that was okay. He’d keep it to himself.

Luhan was just about to replace the phone on the nightstand when it began vibrating in his hand. This time, it was a phone call.

Chewing on his lip thoughtfully, he weighed the pros and cons of ignoring it.

On one hand, he was tired and wouldn’t mind dozing some more but if he talked to Jongin, sleep would undoubtedly elude him for some time after. On the other hand, if he ignored Jongin’s call, he would simply call again. Then he would call Sehun’s phone knowing that he would be there, or that Sehun would have been the last person to see him. Sehun was in no shape to deal with Jongin and the mere thought of his rest being disturbed angered Luhan. In the end, the answer was obvious.

He slowly swung his leg over the side of the bed and tried to shift his hip away from Sehun but Sehun stirred, pressing into him, his fingers curling firmly into his thigh to hold him in place.

Sehun exuded so much strength that he immediately looked at his face, thinking he had awakened but his expression hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Sighing, he settled back against the pillows and picked up the call.

“Hello?” he said as calmly as he could manage.

“Where are you?” Jongin’s words were sharp and direct.

“At Sehun’s.”

“Why aren’t you home yet? And why did you cancel the driver?” Jongin demanded.

“Jongin-ah, Sehun’s sick and…”

“So?”

Cold fury swept the heat from Luhan’s body.

So??

Jaw clenched, Luhan tried to maintain a reasonable tone. “I can’t leave him here by himself. He…”

“Call his parents. His sister, his neighbour,” Jongin suggested coldly.

“I don’t know their numbers.”

“He’s your boss and you don’t know the numbers of his family members?” Jongin asked sarcastically.

“I live with you and I don’t know yours either,” Luhan snapped back.

There was silence on the other end. What could Jongin really say? Luhan had won that round.

Forcibly calming himself, Luhan once more tried to speak to Jongin’s humanity.

“Listen, he’s just sleeping it off right now. He should be on his feet again in a day or two.”

“A day or two?” Jongin repeated, incredulous.

“Jongin…”

“You know, I actually came home early today thinking that we might be able to spend some time together,” Jongin admitted, his voice barely audible as if it killed him to do so.

There it was again, Luhan thought. Déjà vu.

“I’m sorry that I can’t just drop everything to come be with you,” Luhan replied, throwing his own words back at him.

Jongin laughed mirthlessly. “Touché. Little Lulu has teeth now, does he?”

Luhan felt a blush tingeing his cheeks. “I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“No. I deserved it,” Jongin acknowledged.

They lapsed into silence for a long moment before Luhan finally decided to put an end to it. The tension was fraying his nerves.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said quietly.

“Call me when you’re leaving,” Jongin replied, disconnecting immediately after.

Setting the phone down on the table, Luhan took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

His stomach was in knots and he had a feeling that they would be that way for quite a while. And yet…he was proud of himself. He’d taken a stand, for both himself and Sehun. It felt good.

They’d drawn a line in the sand, he and Jongin. The only question now was…where did they go from here?