Chapter 5
Life à la Mode
A/N: This one will be in Sehun's POV, but it won't directly mention any Sekai/Kaihun… But it's there if you squint. This is mainly to solidify Sehun's character, my own version of him, plus some of his background like his parents, where he's from, and his actual lifestyle outside of modeling. I'll probably do the same for Luhan somewhere along the way.
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Chapter 5
It was 3 days later, on a Saturday, that Sehun finally got some well-deserved break. He'd worked his perky, fabulous off for a little more than 2 months nonstop, and now he was very much looking forward to doing absolutely nothing for the next 8 days.
Sehun loved his job, no question about that, but he loved being lazy ten times as much... Which was why he and his manager, an uptight, diminutive man named Do Kyungsoo (who Sehun was convinced was the actual incarnation of Satan himself), came up with this kind of arrangement in order to satisfy them both and avoid unnecessary arguments—something that they used to have on a daily basis.
The agreement was simple: Sehun would be accepting as much job offers as he could within a nine-week period (being a high-profile model, he was almost always fully booked boohoo), and after accomplishing everything in his schedule (no matter if it required flying over to the other side of the world just for a photo shoot or a stupid, repetitive, and more often than not misogynistic interview) he gets 9 days – one day for each of the nine weeks – all to himself, as well as the freedom to do whatever his heart desired.
Not that he ever did anything worthwhile. He mostly just lazed around at home—browsing the web, catching up to his favorite shows or watching movies that he didn't get the chance to see in theaters on Netflix, trying (and failing) to make an edible home-cooked meal (so he often just ended up having pizza delivered or calling Chanyeol over to make him food when his best friend was also free because they lived only six and a half blocks away from each other), or playing video games.
….Or dancing, which was something he used to be extremely passionate about, and was actually considering making a career out of when he was younger, way back when modeling hadn't even crossed his mind. Nowadays, he mostly did it as a form of workout, just to stay fit. He still found immense enjoyment in it, though.
He actually just finished performing (in front of his mirror – floor-to-ceiling and covered one section of his living room wall) a heels-intensive routine that he learned from one of the classes he took, taught by both Yanis Marshall and Danielle Polanco (two of his most favorite choreographers – they slayed every single time) around November last year. It was very sensual, but it involved a lot of different styles, incorporated advanced techniques, and focused on finding the perfect lines. In 5-inch heels. Louboutins, of course.
He was panting and sweating buckets after it, but damn if that didn't feel thoroughly satisfying. And he looked damn good all throughout, his every move precise and effortless, as perfectly natural as he was on the runway. It was a shame he didn't have any potential audience to give a VIP pre-game show to.
Or did he? Perhaps soon, but he didn't want to jinx it. He was just going to leave it to his best frenemy: Fate. If it was meant to happen, it would happen.
Half an hour later found Sehun submerged chest deep in his bathtub, the combined aromas of the ever-reliable Lavender and Eucalyptus bath salt that he dissolved into the water doing wonders to his stressed body and mind. He felt better already. He only had the luxury of doing this when he was actually at home, and that never happened nearly often enough for his liking.
With a pleasured sigh, Sehun sunk deeper into the fragrant water, resting his neck against the soft headrest. He wished every day could be just like this, him relaxing in his tub without a care in the world, completely at peace and worry-free.
Barely even ten minutes in, he was already dozing off, his body surrendering to its exhaustion, and also to the comfort brought by his amazing therapeutic bath. His dream self was just about to take the first step into la-la-land when the doorbell rang all of a sudden and shattered the tranquil atmosphere.
Dream Sehun fell into a void, pitch black and bottomless.
Real Sehun cursed in both English and Russian.
Very reluctantly, he stood up from his porcelain cradle and stepped out, careful not to slip and injure himself. It happened once when he was a kid and there was still some lingering trauma from it. He really had no intention of recreating that moment.
On his way out, he grabbed one of his baby pink Egyptian cotton robes and quickly shrugged it on, tying it tightly around his svelte waist (he already knew he didn't look his best, but at least he was still the iest). He checked his reflection in the mirror and frowned at the dark circles under his normally sparkling jade green eyes. It didn't help that he was as white as a ing Siberian snowstorm. The contrast they made against his translucent skin was nothing short of horrendous, and if Jaejoong saw him right now, his dear CEO would no doubt have a seizure. He really needed to get a new eye cream soon because the one he currently had barely worked anymore. It was powerless against extreme fatigue and regular 18-hour days. Concealers could only do so much.
Sehun deemed it a lost cause for now, and went on to answer the door. Whoever was waiting behind it would just have to deal with his present zombie status.
“Кто это (Who is it?)” He asked through the intercom, unconsciously employing Russian, his actual first language. He spoke near-perfect English with a barely-there accent, but whenever he was tired or just couldn't be bothered to give a , he reverted into his native tongue. Also, he was just on the phone with his father this morning, and the man never spoke to him in English so he would 'никогда не забывайте мать Россия' (never forget Mother Russia). Apparently, he thought Sehun was becoming 'too American' and needed to stay in touch with his roots.
Which, OK, whatever helped him sleep at night.
Time for a brief history lesson, by yours truly.
Sehun was born to a Russian father* and a Korean mother in the magical frozen land of Moscow (negative temperatures were normal in there, so whenever New Yorkers started complaining about the cold, he would just humorlessly laugh in their faces because 'have y'all es ever experienced a −30°C winter???' Not that any of them understood Celsius anyway because stupid America used Fahrenheit), where he lived until he was about 11, before his family moved to New York because of his father's job. His parents were never married because they were one of those odd couples who didn't believe in it, so he retained his maternal surname of Oh. Had they gotten married, however, his full name would have been Алекса́ндра Альяновна Смирнова (Alexandra Alianovna Smirnova). His father was a comic book geek and was a long-time fan of the Black Widow*, so he thought it'd be clever to name him Alianovna in her honor. And, well, also because his father's name was actually Alian.
Yes, it was long as (he didn't learn to write all of it until he was 8, after a million teardrops and 28 dozen sheets of paper), but that was the exact name on his birth certificate, just replace Smirnova with Oh. And yes, there was nothing even remotely masculine about it because he was initially thought to be a normal female baby, instead of a carrier. His parents didn't bother thinking of a boy name because they liked the original name they gave him.
At least that's what they said. Sehun believed they just got lazy. It didn't really matter, though, because those with the carrier gene were considered somewhere in between, and could have either a feminine name or a masculine name, depending on their preference. When he was young, he was simply called Sasha, the pet form of his first name Alexandra. Sehun was the Korean name given to him by his mother, saying that she also wanted him to have a connection to her homeland. He decided on using it as a moniker when he started modeling because it was more unique-sounding and he didn't really want to be known as Alex Smirnoff–which was what his father suggested for him to use as an alias. It was too common, and he was anything but. How many Alex-es were already there in existence? The thought of being just one of many was a travesty that made Sehun want to cry.
He got so distracted by his random trip down memory lane that he reacted late to his unexpected visitor's response and totally missed what the person said. And that didn't really occur to him immediately.
“What? Can you please say that again?” Sehun politely asked, and then repeated the same thing in Russian just for the heck of it.
He heard a loud, exaggerated intake of breath before the world collapsed under the force of a roaring thunder.
“IT'S JUN, YOU DEAF, ANEMIC STRING CHEESE! DID I STUTTER?! AND HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO USE RUSSIAN ON ME, GODDAMMIT?!” It was followed by a few expletives in Chinese, some of which were already familiar to him considering how often he heard them from the younger.
Sehun flinched and quickly moved his head away from the intercom. His ears were ringing. ing brat.
And who was he calling a string cheese? He had curves!
He opened the door anyway, and was greeted by Junhui's scowling face, arms crossed in front of his chest. Sehun's eyes traveled downward and saw that he had a small Louis Vuitton monogram duffel bag and a grocery bag overflowing with what looked like candies and chips...
This wasn't good.
“I was literally just standing here like an idiot for 5 minutes, thinking that you didn't want to let me in, and it turns out that you just didn't hear me?!”
The younger teenager looked like he would blow a gasket any second (if he didn't already), and Sehun actually felt a tad guilty. “Sorry about that. I've been spacing out a lot today.”
Junhui immediately sobered, clicked his tongue, and said in a patronizing tone, “See, this is why I always tell you to stop smoking that . You never listen.”
“ you.”
The irritating little pest just gave a sweet smile. “So can I come in?”
“No.” He motioned to shut the door in the younger's face, but Jun pushed it back with a surprising strength that belied his delicate appearance.
“Aww, c'mon! I was just kidding! You know I love you, Sasha!”
“That sounds really fake coming from you. And don't call me that!”
“But it's such a nice name! And I do love you! Look, I even brought you something!”
That got Sehun's attention. He allowed the door to slowly open all the way as Jun stepped aside to reveal what was hidden behind him.
Upon seeing what it was, he raised a questioning eyebrow and deadpanned, “You got me a basket of flowers?”
The other nodded, looking extremely proud of himself.
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because I love you.”
Sehun's face was devoid of any and all emotions, as if he'd just lost the last remaining shred of faith he had in humanity. Why did this particular subspecies of homo sapien always gravitate towards him? First there was Luhan, and then Chanyeol, and now this personified oil spill dressed in animal print Roberto Cavallis and a pair of studded Giuseppe Zanottis. Fabulous, but an oil spill was still an oil spill, a bio-hazard nonetheless. And if they represented the rest of humanity, then Sehun might as well sell all of his belongings, move to Tibet, and become a goat-herder. Then he might actually find true inner peace and contentment.
But no, this was his unfortunate reality as of the moment. The goats would have to wait.
Sehun counted backwards from 10 to 1, cleared his throat, and finally said, “The last present you gave me was a ing Life Countdown Watch*. You don't do sweet. Despicable, yes. Disturbing? Definitely. So you can't tell me that you suddenly just decided, out of the goodness of your non-existent heart, to give me flowers on an ordinary day. It's either you tell me the truth or I'm calling security.”
.
.
.
“Why are you always so rude?”
“Why are you always such an annoying little ?”
“Touché.”
Sehun rolled his eyes. “Just answer my question. Where did that really come from?”
Jun let out a huff of annoyance and haughtily flipped his hair. “I don't actually know. When I arrived, it was already sitting on top of the front desk. The fugly woman with the terrible hair and the fake tan told me to just bring it up with me and give it to you.”
Sehun gave the younger a you've-got-to-be-ing-kidding-me look.
Junhui just stared back at him.
When it became obvious that they were not going to get anywhere like this, Sehun said, with as much patience as he could muster, “So you mean this could very well be from a crazy stalker, or worse, an assassin sent out to dispose of me and it could have a hidden time bomb in there somewhere and you brought it over just like that?”
The 15-year-old shrugged, like he couldn't give any less of a . “It's pretty. And it smells divine.”
“You know, I would slap you but I'm against abusing mentally challenged people.”
Junhui's mouth dropped in absolute shock and offended disbelief. “You did NOT just say that to my gorgeous face.”
“I believe I just did.”
Heechul's hell spawn closed his eyes and took deep breaths, while Sehun watched on, amused.
“OK. That's fine. In any other circumstance, I would retaliate but unfortunately, I do need a temporary place to stay.”
“And what makes you think I'd be the one to provide that for you?”
“Because you love me, too.”
Sehun gave the younger teenager one of his signature blank stares, but wasn't able to keep it for long because Junhui seemed very convinced with that answer.
Which wasn't really far from the truth. Sehun was very fond of this beautiful, outrageous imp (as he was of his 2 crazy BFFs), and considered him to be like the younger brother he never had. Or sister. Whatever.
With his expression somewhere between a smile and a stank face, Sehun begrudgingly said, “Come in before I change my mind.”
“YAY! You're the best, Sasha!” The younger cheered, pumping up an enthusiastic fist.
“You only say that whenever you need a huge favor. And seriously, stop using that name.”
“What? That is so not true. I think you're the best all the time. And why do you hate that name so much? It's your real name. You should be thankful that I don't call you Alexandra instead.”
“Do you want to sleep in the hallway that badly?”
“Sorry, I'm shutting up now.”
“Good.”
The little then scrambled to get inside only with the duffel bag, leaving Sehun to pick up the grocery bag and the basket of flowers, which he had to admit was arranged beautifully.
He brought it up to his nose and took a curious sniff. It also smelled incredible, just as Junhui said.
Sehun examined it closer and saw that there were gardenias mixed in with the pink carnations and oriental lilies. So that's why. You could never go wrong with the smell of gardenias.
But who could have thought of giving him flowers so randomly? Could it be…?
No, he didn't want to get his hopes up only to find out later on that he was wrong. Honestly, it'd really disappoint him if he were.
He was just going to wait a little bit more.
And besides, that bastard needed to do a lot more than just this if he wanted Sehun to cave and agree to give the both of them another chance.
He bit his bottom lip to fight back the smile, as well the warm, fuzzy feeling that was starting to blossom in his chest.
With one last glance at the empty hallway, he closed the door and punched in the security code to lock it, before following Junhui into his living area.
Sehun found his uninvited, but not exactly unwelcome, guest already perched on one of the bar stools, helping himself to the oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter.
“These are amazing,” he gushed, crumbs falling off from his mouth.
“Thanks.”
“You made these?”
“Of course.”
“I didn't know you could bake.”
The younger carrier actually looked impressed, but that was a total bull. They were from the nice old lady next door. She was also Russian, a native of Murmansk, and she used to live with her youngest daughter before she got married a year or so ago, about the same time Sehun moved in to start living independently. Now, she was alone and often spent her time knitting, baking, tending to her indoor plants, and watching Modern Family and Parks and Recreation despite only understanding less than half of the dialogue. Her husband died long ago, and the rest of her children were in different countries, each with families of their own. They didn't visit her very often. Sehun was the only one she could speak to in her mother tongue, so he made sure to drop by and talk to her whenever he could, and because of that, she grew very fond of him and started seeing him as her own grandchild. She often baked stuff for him. The night he arrived from Paris, she gave him a basketful of freshly baked raspberry and cream cheese filled Vatrushkas and he almost cried because of how much he missed eating them. But Jun didn't need to know that.
And now it was time for business.
Sehun placed the rather heavy grocery bag onto the counter, before leaning against it and putting a hand on his hip.
“So why did you suddenly need to crash into somebody else's place? How much did you up this time?” Straight to the point was always the best way to interrogate. Sehun was never one to beat around the bush.
Junhui bit the corner of his lip and put his half eaten cookie back onto the platter. He looked really dejected and Sehun almost felt bad for him, if not for the fact that whatever happened between him and his mother was probably his fault. About a third of the time, it was Heechul and his suffocating mama-bear tendencies.
“It's really stupid.”
“It's alright, I won't judge.”
“Really?” The younger's eyes lit up, hopeful. “That actually makes me feel bett-”
“And besides, you ing up isn't anything new. I won't be surprised if you got yourself knocked up one of these days.”
As expected, his words left Jun gobsmacked, slowly blinking his eyes with his mouth agape. Sehun had a very unapologetic smirk.
Exactly 12.03 seconds later (yes, Sehun was counting) the younger, in true Heechul-esque dramatic fashion, inhaled a deep lungful and released it before saying, “If I had a dollar for each time you have personally offended me and mocked everything I stand for, I'd be richer than Yifan-ge by now.”
“You don't need it, you came from a family of billionaires who are also married to billionaires.”
“Do you want me to tell you why I'm here or do you just want to keep throwing barbs at me all night?”
“Hey, you're not exactly giving me equal options here. The answer should be obvious.”
“I can't believe this,” said Junhui, shaking his head.
Sehun burst into uproarious laughter, smacking the counter at the same time.
“How do you like getting a taste of your own ?” He asked in between laughs, wiping the mirth from his eyes.
“What are you even talking about?”
Sehun's amusement died in an instant, and was replaced by a dangerous aura. “Do you really need me to remind you of the things you told me when Etienne and I broke up?”
Jun must've seen his life flash before his eyes right then, if the way he nervously swallowed and wiped his palms on his coat were anything to go by. It didn't take long for him to recall the exact day, the exact time, and the exact things he said… None of which were nice.
“I'm sorry…” He said with his head bowed, and for once he actually did look remorseful.
It was Sehun's turn to be impressed. “Wow, that's like, your second apology today. You must be setting a new personal record.”
The younger carrier even had the nerve to blush. “Shut up. At least this makes us even.”
Ah, but Sehun had to lift one of his immaculately sculpted eyebrows at that. “You think?”
For a moment, it looked like Jun was going to protest violently, but Sehun saw the internal conflict from the crease that appeared on the other's forehead and the tight set of his lips before he sighed resignedly and said, “Do you have more to say? Go ahead, then. I'm giving you the rare chance to insult me to your heart's content. I know I deserve it for being such an awful .”
Now, that was new. Junhui had never ever admitted to being an actual despite the whole world and a few neighboring planets knowing about it. That kind of made Sehun proud, because it was indeed a sign of the younger teenager's developing maturity. But of course he wasn't going to say it out loud.
“Nahh, I'd rather save them for another time,” Sehun instead replied absently, studying his cuticles before buffing them against his robe, feigning apathy. However, he made a mental note to visit the nail spa one of these days because his nails looked atrocious.
Jun mumbled a few unintelligible words mixed with some Chinese, and bitterly took another bite off the cookie he was munching on earlier.
Taking pity on the other, Sehun asked, “So what exactly happened? I'm lending you my ears.”
The other eyed him suspiciously, obviously not believing his sincerity for a second. “Are you sure you're done?”
Sehun made a show of looking like he was still thinking about it, tapping his cheek with a finger.
“Oh, come on!”
“Hmmm…. Yes.”
“Ugh.”
“I'm waiting, make it quick.”
The younger shot him a vicious glare, but chose not to engage. Smart move, because otherwise Sehun would not have backed down.
He watched as Jun's expression shifted into something grave, but he was probably only exaggerating everything. Sehun was sure this one couldn't be any more serious than all of Junhui's previous spats with his mother. He was very well acquainted with this scenario and could name at least 4 other instances off the top of his head where this happened. He was all ears, anyway, just to let this menace know that he cared. A little.
“OK, this is going to sound completely petty and asinine but-”
And then Sehun's brain crashed. “Wait, what?” He wasn't prepared to be slapped in the face by advanced English vocabulary.
“What do you mean what? I was just getting started. If you were just more patient I'd eventually-”
“No, I mean the word you just said.”
“Which word?”
“The last one.”
“Asinine?”
“Yeah, that. What the hell is that?”
Jun regarded him as he would a person who just asked why water was wet. Sehun was mildly offended. If Little Miss Perfect 4.0 GPA thought he was your typical blonde bimbo (that wasn't even his natural hair color, he was born a brunette) then he had another thing coming.
“You know,” Sehun began, standing up straighter so that he towered over the younger, and also to give more impact to his defense. “I'm really smart in Russian, in case you're forgetting that English isn't actually my first language. It's not even my second. I also learned Korean from my mom.”
Junhui, for all of his iness and mightier-than-thou attitude, looked apologetic. Yeah, he's matured alright. “You're right, I'm sorry. Well, it's just another word for 'extremely stupid'.”
“Where did that word even come from?”
“It supposedly has Latin origins, like most words do.”
Sehun nodded, finally understanding. “I see. I'll keep it in mind, then.”
The younger teenager groaned. “Listen, can we just move on? I don't really want to be discussing the etymology of obscure words with you all night.”
“That actually seems to be a good idea.”
Junhui's eyes widened in alarm. “NO.”
Sehun snickered. Oh, how we loved messing with this abominable vermin. “But we definitely have to do that sometime. It's interesting and I want to know more about it.”
“You know that we now have Google for that, right?”
“It's better to learn from an actual person. And I thought you were supposed to be some kind of a genius? Surely, teaching would be a piece of cake for you.”
“I'm not getting out of this, am I?”
“No.”
Junhui promptly surrendered. “Fine, but not today. Perhaps on my next visit. I'll even prepare an entire PowerPoint presentation for you, because I'm nice like that. NOW can we go back to 'The Real-Life Adventures of Fabulous Junhui and his Teenage Crisis'? I really like that show.”
Sehun gave an indulgent smile, also gesturing with a hand. “Of course, go ahead.”
“Thank you,” the other spat sarcastically, with an eye-roll so violent his irises literally disappeared somewhere behind the sockets. Sehun thought for a moment he was being possessed.
That definitely would've been amusing. The spirit might even be nicer than Junhui, but then again, most people were.
“So my mom and I got into his huge argument, which was really just blown out of proportion by his own preposterous paranoia...”
Five short minutes into their conversation and Sehun was finally starting to see the bigger picture: Heechul was terrified that his only son would go through the same thing he did, and expressed it the only way he knew how.
From what he had gathered so far, Junhui had one of his closest friends, a guy named Josh, over at their penthouse this afternoon. They were talking about their new classmate, Angel (short for Soleil Angélique LaChapelle, because no one could properly pronounce her real name), a transfer student from Montréal, of Korean and Français-Monégasque descent, and the daughter of a ridiculously wealthy oil magnate. Angel was also a carrier, but primarily identified as female, as far as Junhui knew.
According to the younger, Angel was very sweet and gentle. Everyone liked her. She was also breathtakingly beautiful, and even Junhui himself admitted that he had never met someone who had so perfectly epitomized the meaning of their name, and that was where the problem began.
Of course, since everyone was so utterly enamored with her, so was Josh.
Junhui liked Josh.
And he was jealous.
“I've never felt so insulted in my life before. He wanted to ask me for advice on how to confess to Angel, because he thought she and I were close. Well, we kind of are, but not that much.
So there I was, fuming internally, while Josh, the oblivious thick-skulled dimwit, was just going on and on about her, practically waxing lyrical and all that romantic bull. I listened to as much of it as I could, but I was torn between wanting to be a good friend and a diva scorned. Unfortunately, the less likeable side of me won and I slapped him. Hard. I saw my angry red hand print marring his flawless, handsome face.”
Sehun cringed at that (though most of it was directed at Jun's melodramatic storytelling), but did not say anything as a silent prompt for the other to continue.
“Of course he was super shocked by it, and was looking at me like he couldn't believe I really just did that. Even I couldn't believe it. I felt bad about it, but I was also angry, and hurt, and jealous, and insecure, and I like him so, so much.”
Seeing Junhui's trembling lips and unshed tears, Sehun automatically reached out and gently patted his shoulder. The younger smiled sadly and sniffled a bit, resembling the kid that he still actually was underneath all the wit, snark, makeup, and designer clothing.
Just as Sehun thought he was going to start bawling, Jun steeled his expression and moved on to the next part of his tale. Good for him to have chosen to be strong about this. Sehun would've -slapped him otherwise.
“And then I don't know what came over me at that moment. I was filled with so many different conflicting emotions at the same time. But I was also thinking that I should do something about it and let him know how I truly feel. So I just… kissed him.”
Sehun gasped, putting a hand over his mouth. He knew where this was going.
No, not the bed (if Luhan were here, he'd have arrived at that exact conclusion), but the reason why Heechul and Junhui fought in the first place.
“He was surprised at first, but after a few seconds he started kissing me back. We were making out for about a minute before mom walked in on us.”
That. Of course Heechul would. They were on the couch, for crying out loud. Who the made out on the goddamn couch while their crazy, overprotective mother was in the kitchen?
“That's kind of your own stupidity,” remarked Sehun, speaking out for the first time since this conversation started.
“Ugh, tell me something I don't know.”
“Just keep going. I know you're not done yet.”
Another ten minutes went by, with Junhui recounting the events from this afternoon, complete with a spot on impersonation of his mother, and Sehun listening attentively, chuckling at the right moments, or offering comfort when needed.
Sehun couldn't really blame Heechul for the way he handled the situation. Heck, if he were Junhui's mother, he would've done pretty much the same thing, but maybe with a bit less hysterical screaming. He didn't have Heechul's personality, so he'd never be that kind of mother.
He was aware of what the former model had been through with his previous relationship, which also happened to be the first and the last. Heechul just wasn't ready for Junhui to fall in love yet, and wanted to shield his son from everything that could potentially hurt him.
Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. Junhui was going to fall in love sooner or later (in this case sooner), whether he liked it or not, and, knowing Heechul, he probably never would.
“I mean, Josh tried to take the blame, he's actually a gentleman, but after my mom kicked him out and banished him from our abode for all eternity, I confessed the honest truth. Needless to say, mom didn't take it very well.”
Sehun snorted. The other couldn't have possibly understated it more if he tried.
Junhui let out a massive sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. Sehun was worried he would ruin his cat eye liner and mascara, but they were apparently smudge-proof. He'd have to ask where Jun got them from. Priorities.
“Now, I don't even know how to talk to Josh anymore. I want to just quit school altogether so I don't have to see him. He texted me earlier, several times, but I've yet to reply. I don't know what to say.”
Junhui looked up at him then, and once again, his expressive brown eyes were glistening with liquid crystals (a normal person would just call them ing tears, but Sehun was in a very poetic mood, so shut up).
Sehun, feeling very much like an older sibling at the moment, opened his arms, and soon, he had an armful of sobbing, heartbroken teenager.
Jun's arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, while he gently caressed the back of the younger's head, every once in a while whispering comforting words into his ear.
It took the better part of an hour for Junhui to calm down completely, and by that time, Sehun had already moved them to the sofa and prepared hot chocolate. Luhan always said that it made the pain go away. It wasn't supposed to make sense, but it did.
“So how do you feel now?” Sehun asked quietly as he placed his half-finished mug onto the coffee table.
The younger lowered his own and his lips. “A lot lighter, now that I've been able to let it all out. I think I haven't cried this much since I was five when Taehyung* and Mingyu* stole my favorite Barbie doll and chopped off all her hair.” He chuckled at the memory.
Sehun smiled, but looking at Jun's swollen eyes (the makeup was amazingly still intact), he also felt like crying. The 15-year-old was always so vivacious and fierce that it was hard to believe he'd ever be this vulnerable. Just a short while ago, they were throwing nasty insults at each other. He'd definitely never seen this side of Jun before, and he wasn't sure he liked it.
“Hey,” Jun called softly, interrupting Sehun's thoughts.
He gave the brunette his full attention. “Yeah?” Listening was the best he could offer. Unlike Luhan, or even Chanyeol at times, he wasn't good at giving advice. He was also just a kid (even if he was turning 20 in a few months), and he had a lot more to learn and experience before he could start spouting words of wisdom and whatnot like Dumbledore or Gandalf.
“I just wanna say thank you for… all of this. For accepting me into your place and listening to me and offering your shoulder to cry on… And for the hot chocolate. I really appreciate it.” The smile that painted the younger teenager's face was genuine this time, and Sehun had to admit that he looked so much prettier when he was being nice.
Sehun returned it with one of his own, which was also quite rare for him. “It's nothing. I know you would've done the same for me.”
But Jun didn't give any kind of acknowledgment.
“Right?” Sehun prompted, face growing darker by the second.
There was nervous laughter from the other. “Of course, I was just playing with you.”
“You better. I could still throw you out.”
“I know, but you won't.”
“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you.”
“C'mon, Sasha. We all know underneath that cold-as-a-Russian-winter exterior, you have a warm heart.”
“I'm pretty sure I'd be dead if I didn't. And will you stop it with that name? Seriously.”
“Okay, but on one condition.”
“Absolutely not. You're not allowed to ask for anything anymore. I've hit my daily limit of being nice to you.”
That gained him an intense side-eye from his soon-to-be-not-guest, if said guest didn't stop being so ing cheeky.
“Your niceness has a limit?” The other asked incredulously.
“For you, yes,” replied Sehun without missing a beat.
“Whatever you say, Sasha~” Junhui sing-songed, which only served to get into Sehun's nerves even further.
To his horror, the little nuisance suddenly started singing an impromptu song about his name to the tune of Justin Bieber's 'Baby'.
Amazing.
He was sure Junhui knew of that time when that arrogant dickless wonder started hitting on him during the Grammy after-party last year, so he was definitely doing this on purpose.
It took only half-a-second before Sehun decided he'd had enough.
“OK, OK, I'LL LISTEN TO YOUR STUPID CONDITION IF YOU STOP SINGING THAT GOD-AWFUL SONG, Владимир Путин на пого палку*!” Sehun couldn't help that bit of Russian at the end. He would've said it all in Russian if it wouldn't have defeated the purpose.
Jun, thank the deities above, shut up immediately, but then gave him a familiar -eating grin, and Sehun swore this kid learned it from ing Luhan. Now that he thought about it, it was probably also Luhan who had told Junhui about his birth name, that soulless .
“I knew you've always had a soft spot for darling old me,” the younger said in a sickeningly sweet tone, batting his eyelashes at the same time.
Sehun pinched the bridge of his nose and squashed down the urge to scream. “Jun, if you don't stop that right now I swear I will stab you in the throat with my stilettos*. You know which ones I'm talking about.”
“Okay, but we both know you won't do that.”
“Don't forget you're staying the night. I'll have plenty of opportunity to kill you in your sleep.”
“That's nothing but an empty threat.”
Sehun made sure to keep eye contact as he said, “I'm Russian.” And left it at that.
That got Junhui to get up from his seat as if he just realized it was burning. He held both hands up in front of him defensively and practically word-vomited, “There's no need to go all Black Widow on me. I was just kidding. I'm sorry. How do you say that in Russian again? , I don't know. I'm sorry, please don't kill me. I still want to marry Josh and have his kids. My first Vogue girl issue hasn't even been released yet.”
Sehun, meanwhile, was trying his best not to laugh, because the other genuinely looked scared less. He didn't want to know what Junhui actually thought of Russians.
“Then come over here, stop being a little , and tell me what that condition of yours is,” he said in a more affable tone, beckoning Jun with a hand.
The younger just eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure you don't have a deadly weapon hidden under your robes or something?”
Sehun scoffed. “Honey, I don't need a weapon to be deadly.”
“That's it, I'm outta here. It was nice knowing you.”
Jun then did a dramatic 180 and strutted away.
A few steps from the foyer, he paused and tuned back around. “Really, you're not even going to stop me?”
Sehun shrugged. “Good riddance.”
Jun pouted. “I'm so going to tell Aunt Jae how mean you are to me and then get you fired.”
“What are you, eight?”
“No, I just honestly failed to think of a decent comeback.”
There was complete silence in which they both just stared at each other, before exploding in loud guffaws at the exact same time.
About a minute later, after they've both settled down enough, Jun walked back to the couch and plopped down.
“Oh God, I needed that,” said the brunette, running a hand through his hair.
“Same here,” Sehun agreed, and then adjusted his robe which was almost falling off of one shoulder due to his laughing fit. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.
“You know what's going to be even better?”
“What?”
“A slumber party. That's my 'condition'.”
That gave Sehun pause, and he slightly scrunched his nose in mild distaste upon realizing what exactly that entailed. “A slumber party?” Trust this little diva- to be random as .
“Yeah, what did you think I bought all those snacks for?” The younger asked, as if it was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world.
Sehun considered it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of indulging himself.
“I can't eat them,” he finally decided, because he was certain His Malevolence (aka his manager, Kyungsoo, Lord of the Underworld), would personally chop all the excess fat off of him if he suddenly was unable to squeeze himself into all of the outfits for the upcoming Spring/Summer fashion weeks.
Jun rolled his eyes, clearly finding it ridiculous. “Sure you can. You're on holiday, right?”
“Well, yeah, but...”
“Then it should be fine. Call Luhan-jie and Yeolliepop and ask them to join us.”
Sehun pursed his lips in thought. Luhan returned from LA yesterday and had the entire weekend off, while he was pretty sure Chanyeol sent him a message earlier saying that his appearance as a guest judge on America's Next Top Model was rescheduled. They probably wouldn't get another chance like this until after another few months.
“I guess it's been a while since the last time we were able to get together like this...” Sehun said, already liking the idea more and more. And also, he'd almost forgotten that he was planning to grill Chanyeol out about keeping the entire thing with Kris a secret from him. It was much better to do it with an audience, and he was sure the others would have questions as well, especially Luhan.
“Totes,” Jun agreed, nodding sagely, an action which didn't really match what he just said. “So it should happen today.”
The decision was made, then. They were having a slumber party.
A/N: Well, this moved the plot about half an inch, but I had fun writing it because I really like the dynamics between Sehun and Jun. Next chapter is, obviously, the slumber party. Secrets are about to be revealed. ;)
And of course, I'd like to thank ALL OF YOU for always making me smile with your comments and making my day just a little bit brighter and a little less stressful. I appreciate all of it, and even if I can't reply to all of you, I'll be making use of the new comment voting feature to let you know that I've read your comments and that I'm aware of your existence and that you've made me happy. ^^
And now I need to get some rest because I have an early start tomorrow. Zzzzz
Notes:
Sehun's father – Well, I've already stated once that most of the characters in here will be of mixed parentage (because that's the kind of world that I want – one where those who are different are accepted instead of ridiculed), and Sehun is half Russian because, in case you guys haven't noticed, I love Russia. I do have Russian blood as well from my father but I'm at the language. If any of you speak native Russian, feel free to correct me because I'm certain not all of my translations are accurate. I apologize in advance if they made you cringe.
Black Widow – For those who don't know (and I'm seriously judging you again if you don't), she is, of course, a Marvel superhero and my queen. Her real name is Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Natasha is the pet form of Natalia, and Romanoff is the most common anglicized version of her surname.
Life Countdown Watch – This is like, one of the tiest presents you can ever give someone, but if you're a piece of , anyway, then go ahead. Google it if you're interested.
Taehyung and Mingyu – Yes, those are indeed Kim Taehyung (V) of BTS and Kim Mingyu of Seventeen. They are cousins of Jun's, and they're related to an important secondary character. The Kim clan is huge.
The untranslated Russian phrase – Vladimir Putin on a pogo stick! (or at least what I was intending it to be lol)
Sehun's stilettos – Those killer heels above that I used as a chapter image. Imagine Sehun in them and try not to drool.
Bonus for Seventeen fans: Who are Josh and Angel? I'm going to slap you if you fail to guess which members they're supposed to be.
Edited. Special thanks to @Geminiatheart for correcting me and reminding me of the Russian naming system. Lots of hearts to you. <3
I might pick this up again, but I'm making no promises. I'll be more candid about the things that happened over the last 2 years IF I decide to continue where I left off. It's pretty much 50/50 at this moment. The only thing that I can tell you for sure is that Chapter 11 exists in my drafts.
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