Sehun remembers the first time he met Luhan. It was back in high school and, although hard to imagine, Luhan was even more clueless than he is now. Sehun was fairly popular then, while Luhan belonged to the general assorted group of misfits. Although they shared a few classes together, they had never talked before, remaining in that awkward grey space between acquaintances and people you chose to ignore. It wasn’t as if there was much to talk about. Luhan was a few grades above Sehun, almost about to graduate, and it wasn’t as if Sehun had any excuses to go up to the older boy and strike up a conversation. Not that he wanted to in the first place.

Even back then, everyone knew how smart Luhan was. Sure, he dressed rather unusually and god was his hair ever messy, but he could run laps around all of them in terms of sheer brainpower. He aced every test in every subject, despite the fact that he never seemed prepared to answer questions during class. He was always gazing out the window as if daydreaming, or scribbling illegible notes on tiny scraps of paper. Sehun picked up one of them once, and on it was scrawled The Northeast rose garden, 10 m left - (1,3) (5,2)? followed by a rough sketch of what appeared to be a maze. Later, Luhan confided that it was a case he’d been working on at the time, predicting exactly where the stolen goods had been stashed. Luhan wasn’t even a legal adult yet, but he was already corroborating with authorities to solve particularly difficult cases.

Oddly enough, it was a case that brought them together. It wasn’t even a very important case, not like the ones involving presidents and ministers of foreign countries that Luhan would be solving in the future. In fact, it was insignificant to the point where Sehun was pretty sure Luhan wouldn’t have bothered with it, had the principal not placed such importance on it. It wasn’t as if the Great Detective Luhan was all that fascinated by who vandalized the teachers’ lounge. The only catch was that the perpetrator had been Sehun.

Looking back, Sehun admits that it was a stupid thing to do. It wasn’t as if spray-painting Blow me on the wall was going to raise his grade in Physics. But he was young(er) and stupid and at the time it seemed like a reasonable course of action. Of course, it only took Luhan about thirty seconds of consideration before he pointed at Sehun and said “I know who vandalized the teacher’s lounge.”

To Sehun’s surprise, the older boy began listing off reasons rapidly one by one, including “you have paint under your fingernails and it’s the same color as the spray paint in the teacher’s lounge” and “I saw you running out of the teacher’s lounge around the time the vandalization happened” and “the concept of endogenous retroviruses is that fossil DNA were affected by ancient viruses that once entered our genome and altered it.”

Luhan paused for breath and then beamed at Sehun. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I’ll just say that it was one of the students from the other high school who decided it was funny to sneak in and spray paint the teacher’s lounge.”

“Uh.” Sehun blinked for a few moments as he tried to figure out what the hell endogenous retroviruses were and how they were relevant to the fact that he vandalized the teacher’s lounge before continuing, “Wait, really?”

Sehun couldn’t quite believe that Luhan was willing to cover for him. He was under the assumption that there was some sort of unspoken code of honor that applied to detectives and the cases they solved. Not that he was going to complain, as Luhan had just saved him from a week’s worth of suspension and a permanent record.

Still, there was something fishy about this. There was no way a brilliant detective with superb planning and reasoning skills would do this out of the kindness of his heart. There had to be some ulterior motive, something Luhan could gain from this, but Sehun couldn’t think of anything the older boy would want from him, considering the fact that before this they had never said a single word to each other.

“You might think this is fishy,” Luhan said brightly (damn it, why was he so cheerful and oblivious, and how the heck did he know what Sehun was thinking?), “But I really don’t have anything to ask of you.”

...Maybe Luhan was a lot more socially inept than what Sehun had thought him to be. If that was even possible.

“Really?” Sehun gave Luhan his best skeptical look, the one he had managed to master after hours of practicing facial expressions with his hyung, Baekhyun, in the bathroom after showers (long story, don’t ask). “Uh. Well. If you don’t, then, uh, thanks. Um. I’ll be going now.” He turned away, about to run off before Luhan changed his mind, when Luhan cleared his throat hesitantly.

“Except for one condition.”

Sehun groaned inwardly and turned back to face Luhan again. He owed listening to Luhan, at least, for covering up for him. As long as Luhan didn’t want to make him his slave for a week or his fake boyfriend or something ridiculous like that, Sehun supposed it was tolerable. “Yes?”

“Be my friend.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what Sehun was expecting. It was better than being asked to be Luhan’s fake boyfriend, although that led to the question of why Sehun was even thinking of that possibility and the fact that Luhan probably didn’t even know what the word boyfriend meant. But being Luhan’s friend raised the awkward situation of having to regularly associate with a clueless genius no one could understand.

“Er. Your friend. And that’s all?”

Luhan looked at Sehun innocently. “Why? Were you expecting a different request?”

“No,” Sehun said quickly, lest Luhan changed his mind, refusing to admit that he had been thinking about potentially less platonic relations. “I’ll be your friend. Yes. Okay. How do we become friends.”

At that moment, Sehun realized that yes, there really was no limit to Luhan’s social awkwardness because asking someone to be your friend as a condition for covering up something bad they did was probably the epitome of social awkwardness. But then, he did feel rather sorry for Luhan. People like him probably didn’t get many friends. They probably felt really lonely all the time (at least when they weren’t working on cases and mathematical proofs of some fancy theorem).

That thought, however, did not really help ease up their friendship. More often than not, it was Luhan who forgot that they were friends and whenever Sehun bothered to make an effort to say hello during class, Luhan would stare up at him blankly, then ask, “Who are you?” Sehun would wait a few minutes for Luhan to register his surroundings, and Luhan would suddenly remember who Sehun was, and smile back at him. Technically, being ignored should have hurt Sehun, but this was Luhan, so he didn’t really mind as much, and to be honest, it made him feel inexplicably happy whenever Luhan recognized him and smiled that absent-minded, sweet smile at him.

Also, being friends with Luhan didn’t necessarily make Sehun’s social reputation any better. Although people usually gave Luhan a fair amount of respect, every once in a while someone would make a vaguely malicious comment about his eccentric personality or express jealousy over his academic success. Most of the time it never amounted to anything, as Luhan was either too distracted or too oblivious to notice or care. Sehun didn’t approve of that kind of behavior, but had never felt the need to interfere, until one day, someone crossed the line.

It was sometime before Valentines’ and Sehun had been “friends” with Luhan for approximately two months. He had walked with Luhan to his locker, half-listening to him babble on about the amazing structure of pineapples and theoretical physics, although Sehun had no idea how the two were even remotely related. But when Luhan opened his locker, his cheery mood abruptly dampened. Taped onto the back of his locker door was a single sheet of paper with the words You should die written in bold red marker. All of Luhan’s textbooks had been shredded, pages ripped out and dripping with water, making them nearly unreadable with the ink ruined and smeared all over the covers.

Luhan didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at the mess in front of him, but Sehun felt a sudden rush of anger as he took in the sight of Luhan’s locker. He might not really have felt like he was friends with Luhan, but this was simply unacceptable.

You didn’t tell people to die.

After a few moments, Luhan’s expression shifted to one of contemplation, one that Sehun recognized as “detective mode”. Luhan examined the writing more closely, running a finger against the ink and noted the resulting smudge. He carefully picked up one of the ruined textbooks and flipped through the pages, or what was left of them.

Five minutes was all it took before Luhan looked up with a knowing expression. “Second period Economics, fifth row, fourth seat. He wore a black hoodie today.”

Sehun was stunned, not only by the fact that Luhan had already pinpointed the culprit, but also appeared to be relatively calm about it. “Are you going to report him?”

Luhan looked at Sehun curiously. “Why should I bother? It won’t make a difference.”

Sehun could have just left it at that, but he was bothered by the fact that Luhan didn’t seem particularly outraged or responsive to the death note. “This isn’t something you can take lightly, Luhan-ah. You need to tell someone.”

Luhan’s expression didn’t change as he continued casually, “It’s not like anyone would care. Besides, it’s not worth the trouble.” His voice trembled at the last word and his smile seemed slightly forced. “Anyway, let’s go. We’re going to be late for class.”

Luhan didn’t make any other mentions of it and Sehun had the feeling that their discussion was considered over.

During Economics, Sehun scanned the room and found the guy that Luhan had mentioned. Oddly enough, he looked like a typical geek, almost as skinny as Sehun (though not nearly as attractive) and lacking any aura of intimidation. It was hard to believe that someone who looked so mild-mannered could do such a thing. Sehun had never physically fought anyone before, but as soon as the teacher had left the room, Sehun walked over and punched him in the face.

“Don’t mess with Luhan,” Sehun said coldly, glaring at the boy before stalking away. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Luhan looking at him with a hesitant smile of appreciation.

That was when Sehun began to realize exactly how much he cared about Luhan. Despite all his obliviousness, Luhan must have realized this too, because from that day on, he never forgot Sehun’s name.

As time went by, Sehun found himself conversing more frequently with Luhan, who was always glad to have someone to discuss his cases with. (“Discussing” usually involved more listening than active participation on Sehun’s part, but he was mostly okay with it.)

Sehun thought Luhan best summed up their relationship one casual afternoon, three weeks before Luhan’s graduation.

“I’m Sherlock,” Luhan had announced, grinning as he nudged Sehun in the side and whispered, “Say you’re Watson, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun realizes now that was probably the moment he started feeling something more for Luhan - the beginning of the beginning, or maybe the beginning of the end.

By the time Sehun had graduated university, Luhan had already gotten a PHD even though he was only twenty-four. They moved into a small apartment in Seoul, where Luhan could concentrate on his cases and Sehun could take care of everything else.

For Sehun, adjusting to daily life with Luhan was difficult, to say the least. Luhan was someone who never stuck to a set routine, just wandered around doing whatever he felt like doing, regardless of accepted norms. Some mornings Luhan was up early, humming cheerful songs while making cereal for breakfast at 5AM. Other mornings he didn’t get out of bed until after noon, and Sehun had to check on him to make sure he hadn’t fallen into a coma. Luhan’s sleeping patterns were also erratic, depending on whether or not he was working on a case and the degree of intrigue or urgency it held. During one of Luhan’s most difficult cases, he’d stayed up nearly four days straight without any rest, spending his nights alternatively writing out notes and pacing back and forth.

Of course, Luhan’s unpredictability also brought a sort of excitement. Sometimes Luhan would randomly decide to go out on mini “adventures”, often dragging Sehun along with him. These ranged from midnight shopping excursions to dumpster diving for evidence and everything in between. It was an unconventional sort of lifestyle, but Sehun didn’t really mind, because that was what best friends were for, right?

Sometimes in particular circumstances, Luhan would have his rare moments of lucidity, like when Sehun was about to leave the apartment to live on his own. Luhan had somehow realized amid the scattered books on his desk and sticky notes plastered all over his computer that Sehun was leaving because he didn’t want to be reliant upon only Luhan when he could be getting a job and earning his own salary.

“Sehun-ah. Please don’t leave,” Luhan said in a soft tone Sehun had never heard before, a mix of seriousness and pleading.

Luhan told Sehun that he probably couldn’t live on his own without Sehun there to help him, and that his income was enough to support the two of them comfortably and he really liked having Sehun around. It was the first time Luhan had ever asked him for something, and it made Sehun wonder if Luhan really was a functional human being beneath the perpetually lost, dreamy expression in his eyes. The conversation had ended with Sehun opening his mouth to wonder out loud if Luhan had finally gained his sanity, then closing it as Luhan mumbled something about jolokia peppers and rice.

In other words, emphasis on the phrase rare moments of lucidity.

Sehun sometimes wishes that those moments would be more frequent.

a/n: omg we were not expecting so many subscribers for a forward holy crap o__o orz orz thank you all so much and we're sorry for lying. this is not crack. this is WEIRD ANGSTY PHILOSOPHICAL DEEP CRACK what. if you're confused, it's okay. we are too. kk thanks again and we love you allllll~ <3 - bluu