The sound of the door slamming open, knob banging against the drywall, knocks Lu Han out of a peaceful, unimportant dream and he sits up with a horrified gasp. His heart palpitates and out of reflex he reaches for the small lamp he keeps on the tall stack of magazines next to his bed, ready to launch it at the intruder if the need arises.

“Good morning, cousin!”

It takes him much too long to register the voice — if it was a burglar or a murderer he’d be dead by now — but when he does, his adrenaline runs dry and he turns to the man in his front door with narrowed eyes. He almost wants to throw the lamp anyway, just in case it smashes against Yixing’s face and, in some dramatic display of sorcery, kills him, but he calmly sets it down where it belongs. Ignoring his cousin closing the door, Lu Han reaches beneath his pillow for his phone to check the time. The numbers blur (since now that his brief moment of terror is over, he realizes how tired he is) but he can still tell that it’s too damn early for Yixing to be kicking his door down like a SWAT team wannabe. But then again, Yixing wouldn’t be Yixing if he didn’t annoy Lu Han to hell and back at any chance he gets.

“Good morning, my .”

Groaning, Lu Han rips back his coverlet and slides out of bed. He grumbles as he stomps to his bathroom, making sure to take the extra step and a half toward Yixing so he can shove his intrusive cousin into the wall. Yixing clicks his tongue with disapproval. Lu Han pays him no mind as he yanks his toothbrush out of its holder and drowns it in toothpaste. He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom so he can both glare at Yixing while he brushes his teeth and make sure the other isn’t messing with his .

Yixing looks around for a place to squeeze his suitcase. “Stop looking at me like that,” he demands without needing to look at Lu Han.

The bartender rolls his eyes and finishes scrubbing his teeth. Returning to the door frame, Lu Han clears his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad is driving me up a ing wall. I thought it was only fitting that I come and see my cousin while I vacation and relieve stress.” Yixing glances at him before squeezing his suitcase in the space between Lu Han’s closet and broken, prehistoric television.

Lu Han scoffs. “That’s not my problem anymore. Take your to a hotel.”

Yixing seats himself on Lu Han’s bed and ignores the heated glare directed at him. “There are two things wrong with that. One, I can’t annoy you from a hotel. And two, it is your problem. If you didn’t skip out on your responsibilities, I wouldn’t have to pick up the slack.” He leans back onto his palms and smirks. “Never forget, Han. I can always tell Uncle that his precious little boy isn’t missing in America and is actually hiding out in some shack in Korea. I can ruin your life just as heartlessly as you ruined mine. Though it seems like you're already doing a pretty good job ruining your own life.”

Lu Han simmers down, suddenly aware of his situation now that the magic words have been spoken. As much as it kills him to say it, he and Yixing are truly family, equally as emotionally detached in their own ways. Yixing will not hesitate to out him if Lu Han finally pushes him off the edge. No matter how heartless Lu Han has a habit of being to some people, he's not enough of a to not recognize that he royally ed Yixing over when he ran away six years ago. But he's always been on the selfish side and what's done is done so he isn't compelled to feel any kind of remorse. Still he grits his teeth and swallows his pride.

"Whatever. Do what you want," He says before telling Yixing to keep his paws off his stuff, slipping into the bathroom again for a quick shower.

His mind runs on overdrive as he showers. ing Yixing and his impeccable timing. Of all the days his stupid of a cousin could drop in uninvited, he chose today. It's like he knows when Lu Han has important things to do, life or death kinds of things to do, so he can ruin Lu Han's life at the best possible moment. He had planned to drop by Minseok's place with the usual frappucino and even spice up their breakfast with savory crepes from that new crepe place around Minseok's apartment instead of bringing donuts or McDonald's hash browns. And since watching movies or watching Minseok play video games was getting tedious, he thought they'd go out today, maybe walk around a little bit, play some miniature golf. He sighs. Hopefully Yixing sits around and keeps himself out of trouble like a good puppy.

Yixing is still sitting on his bed, which bothers Lu Han to no end but he knows there is no use asking his cousin to move his . Moving to the small dresser he managed to squeeze in the room, he dresses in his usual non-work attire of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"I'm meeting a friend. Break my and I'll break your face," he warns as he grabs his wallet.

Yixing stares at him blankly. "Can I come?"

He moves to slip on his sneakers. "No." It's not that he doesn't want Minseok to meet Yixing, it's just...he doesn't want Minseok to meet Yixing. He doesn't want Yixing there to sour the good mood he always gets around Minseok.

"Why not?" Yixing quirks an eyebrow. "Is it your boyfriend?"

"It's my foot up your , that's what it is."

With a smug smile and a nod, Yixing stands. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Lu Han ignores Yixing's bark of laughter as he picks up the carrier holding two strawberry and creme frappucinos and thanks the Starbucks employee he's no longer self conscious about seeing every other morning.

"So you come in here enough for the employees to know you by name and already know your order?"

"Shut up."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

"Crepes too," Yixing whistles. "It's definitely your boyf--"

"Shut up."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

“Are we there yet?”

“For the last time,” Lu Han huffs, “shut the up.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

When Minseok opens the door a couple seconds after Lu Han awkwardly bangs on it with his elbow, Lu Han can't help the light smile that tugs at his lips. "Good morning," he greets.

Minseok hums and returns his greeting, automatically reaching out to relieve Lu Han of the drink carrier. As he turns to take it in the living room, he stops, blinking. "You didn't tell me you were bringing someone," he says, peeking between Lu Han, Yixing, and the drink carrier that only held two cups.

Lu Han frowns, remembering the nuisance he has as a tag along. "This is my cousin, Yixing. I would have told you if I knew he was flying in from China today." He glances pointedly at Yixing who grins. "He's harmless. But don't expect too much cause even though we went to the same language academy, his Korean is ."

Minseok looks between them again before bowing his head slightly at Yixing. "C-Come in then."

"No need to be nice to this er, Minseok," Lu Han says as he pushes into Minseok's house and heads straight for the kitchen. "But after we eat I thought we'd go do something fun today."

"Are you calling me and my house boring?" Minseok asks, affronted. He waves his hand to allow Yixing in. He doesn't appreciate the odd look Yixing gives him as he enters with a tight-lipped smile.

Lu Han pokes his head out from the kitchen doorway. "Of course not. I'm calling your movies boring."

"That's like the same thing, Han." Minseok pouts as he follows into the kitchen to set the drinks down.

"No it's not. Stop making that face. I'm allergic to it."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Minseok tightens his hands around the bulky handle of the putter and blinks up at Lu Han with wide eyes. The embarrassment settles within him and he knows that he doesn't have to worry, that Lu Han isn't going to think of him any less, but the fear nestles deep in his chest and his heart beats twice when it's not supposed to. Teeth finding his bottom lip, Minseok looks back and forth between Lu Han and his lazy-eyed cousin. Lu Han's too busy trying to figure out which way they need to go to find the first hole to notice his uneasy stare but Yixing catches his eye with a questionable raise of one of his brows. The panic grips Minseok's heart in a tight fist and he gasps involuntarily.

Lu Han stops muttering to himself and turns to him, worry clear in his eyes. "Minseok?"

Shaking his head frantically Minseok tries to smile and play off his distress. Lu Han's lips dip into a frown and he knows his attempt to seem okay has failed.

"What's wrong?" The bartender comes to his side and pats his head gently. "There's almost no one here."

Bottom lip wobbling, Minseok bites into it again. "I-It's n-not that." He heaves in a deep breath. He knows he getting riled up for nothing but his exhale is nothing but strained terror and shaky. "I-I don't know how to do t-this." I don’t want you to make fun of me.

Minseok would think the way Lu Han's brows furrow with confusion is cute if he wasn't thinking about the suffocating feeling in his lungs.

"Do what? Mini golf?" Lu Han laughs when he nods and Minseok isn't sure if his face is warm because he's blushing at the sound of Lu Han's laugh or because he's about to cry. "That's alright. Ain't nothing wrong with that. I'll teach you when we find the first damn hole."

For some strange reason Lu Han's typical crude way of speaking calms him down just a tad (and only a tad because Yixing is still looking at him weird and he's reminded of elementary, middle, high school and the way the other kids looked at him exactly like that before their fists were thrown at a vulnerable him). He points in the direction of a sign hanging up next to where the columns of colorful golf balls are. "T-that says holes one through five are this way," he says, pointing behind them.

Lu Han purses his lips before his teeth. Brushing past Yixing like he doesn't exist, Lu Han grabs Minseok's hand and pulls him where the sign directs. "I knew that."

"No, you didn’t," Yixing corrects from behind them.

"Yes, I did."

Yixing snorts amusedly. "Look at you trying to act all cool in front of your boyfriend."

Minseok doesn't quite register their banter and it takes him a moment to realize Yixing just spoke in Chinese. He wonders if the other is speaking ill of him in a language he doesn't understand on purpose but Lu Han's tightened grip on his hand distracts him from letting those questions take over his mind. Lu Han is slightly tanner than he is, he realizes as he stares at their hands, but not by much and his hands are bigger and warmer. He squeezes the putter in his other hand. Is his heart still beating this hard because of his almost a panic attack?

"He's not my boyfriend," Lu Han replies. Minseok can hear in the sharp tone of his voice that he's displeased.

But what are they saying? He hates not knowing.

"What are you two talking about?" he asks.

They stop in front of the first hole and Lu Han drops his hand. Minseok curls his fingers.

"Nothing." Lu Han drops his red golf ball on the small starting square. He glances at Minseok and smiles lightly. "More importantly, are you feeling better? I know I'm not the most comforting or sensitive but..."

The gamer tilts his head, confused. "You’ve been nothing but comforting to me. You shouldn't down yourself like that. But yes, I am feeling better, thank you." He smiles.

Lu Han coughs violently and turns his head away. He does that often. Minseok worries that he's sick. If he has such a persistent cough then he should be at home, taking medicine and eating porridge. Minseok reaches out to pat him on the back but Yixing stops him.

"He's fine. Don't worry." They're the first words the other Chinese man has said to him and his accent is much thicker than Lu Han's.

Casting an unsure glance at Lu Han, Minseok nods and lets his friend calm down.

The coughing doesn't last very long and when Minseok asks if Lu Han's sure he's okay the bartender grins wide and tells him not to worry just like Yixing did. His cheeks look slightly pink. Minseok frowns and hopes the other isn't turning red because of fever.

When Lu Han finally hits his ball down the straight path, it stops just in front of the hole. It's not a surprise when he curses and glares at the ball as if that'll make it inch forward and fall in. After his outburst he waves Minseok over. Waddling to the other's side, Minseok places his own ball down and grips the handle tight in his hands. He misses when he tries to hit it the first time, the putter swinging over the ball. He hears Yixing snort behind him but the sound doesn't bother him when Lu Han is patting his shoulder and telling him to try again. He misses the second time as well. That time Lu Han laughs as well.

Pouting, Minseok turns and slaps him on the shoulder. "Don't laugh. You know I don't like to be made fun of. And you said you'd teach me!"

"Okay, okay." Lu Han raises his hands in defense and moves behind him.

Minseok is not at all prepared for his heart to stop and for himself to blush so hard he can tell there are fully bloomed roses on his cheeks. Lu Han arranges his hands on the putter the way they're supposed to be, his bigger hands covering Minseok's. Minseok can only nod dumbly as Lu Han instructs him on how to hit the ball, his back pressed against the taller man's front, and fight the urge to shiver at the bartender's ticklish breath on his ear right.

He keeps his eyes low on the ball even after Lu Han releases him and starts up another argument with Yixing in Chinese. I'm just not used to being so close to people like that other than Jongdae. That's all. Breathing deeply, he swings at the ball. A surprised squeak leaves his mouth when he hits it and it rolls down the path, all the way to the hole.

"I did it!" He grins, dropping the putter to clap happily. Turing around, he tugs a fuming Lu Han away from his cousin. He hugs the younger man's arm as he points as the hole. "Han, I did it!"

Lu Han smiles down at him. Yixing says something but it's in Chinese and Lu Han doesn't respond so Minseok doesn't think it's important.

"You did. It's not har--" Lu Han's eyes snap up to the hole. "Oh, what the , Minseok. You knocked mine out of the way."

Minseok spots the red ball he didn't notice and forgot was there. "My bad," he says but he doesn't actually feel sorry. Isn't the point of golf to get the ball in with as less turns as possible? That means he's winning. He's a video gamer. All he cares about is winning. "But you're not really upset are you?" He looks up at Lu Han with big, innocent eyes and just like he predicted, Lu Han softens.

"No, I guess not."

Yixing sighs behind them. "Can you two lovebirds hurry up with your googly eyes? It's my turn."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

"Minseok."

"Minseokkie."

"Minseok, I'm gonna eat all of your chips."

Rolling his eyes when a balled up potato chip bag is thrown from behind him and lands on the desk right next to his mouse pad, Minseok continues to ignore Jongdae's bored pestering and focuses on his game. He swears to God, though, that if he hears Jongdae's whiny voice in his audio when he checks his recording later he's going to skin the journalist alive for messing up his video. His subscribers don't really mind, in fact, they think it's sort of cute and about it whenever Jongdae's voice makes a cameo. They also think he and Jongdae are dating or that Minseok's just in denial of his feelings so that might also be why they don't care. The point remains that Minseok doesn't want anyone to hear Jongdae's pathetic calls of his name in the background of his videos. He prays that Sehun and Chanyeol's voices drown out Jongdae's.

He just barely swallows a groan when something hits the back of his head. Taking his eyes off his monitor for a second, he turns around to glare at Jongdae lying on his couch surrounded by millions of tiny chip bags. He mouths an angry 'what?' at his best friend who frowns.

"I'm bored," Jongdae replies, shoving another handful of chips in his mouth.

Shaking his head, Minseok waves his hand in a shooing motion, silently urging Jongdae to go home.

"Did Minnie hyung fall asleep again?" Sehun’s voice grasps Minseok's attention.

"I don't know. He sounded pretty awake to me. You know how he gets all y and slurs when he's sleepy."

"Park Chanyeol! I do not get y," Minseok corrects as he fixes with Jongdae with a pointed stare and turns back around. Eyes back on the screen, he scowls as he sees the words you're dead at the top of the screen. “How did I die?!” Minseok screams as his eyes flicker to the side of the screen where the log that details each player’s death is. His frown deepens as he sees bubblepls murdered you there. “Sehun, you little .”

“My bad, hyung, thought you were Chanyeol.” Sehun’s cute laugh is crisp and clear through Minseok’s headset.

Chanyeol yells out indignantly. “What?!”

Not even ten minutes pass before another empty bag is thrown and hits his arm.

Minseok sits through an hour of Jongdae throwing (and missing) empty soda cans and potato chip bags at him before his patience evaporates and he tells Chanyeol and Sehun that he needs to go. Exiting out of the game and other programs and ending the skype call, Minseok wheels around in his chair.

“Do you mind?”

“You’re so boring. Like how can you abandon me to play with your little online friends?”

Minseok rolls his eyes. “Excuse me for trying to do my job, Jongdae.”

"You're excused."

Shaking his head, Minseok puts his desktop on hibernate and gets up. Picking up all of Jongdae's trash, he tosses it in the trashcan he keeps beside his desk for his gaming marathons. Once the last bag is in the trash, he walks over to where Jongdae is still eating and lays down on top of him.

"Why are you such a bother?" He asks, pressing his cheek into Jongdae's left shoulder.

"Why are you such a terrible host?" Jongdae returns, digging out a large chip and twisting his arm to offer it to Minseok who gladly allows himself to be fed the oversalted snack.

"If memory serves me right, I never invite you over. Therefore I don't need to be a good host because you're an unwelcome guest."

Jongdae just continues to feed him the remaining chips. Once those are finished and Jongdae is the residual salt off his fingers, Minseok climbs off his back and nudges him in the side to roll over. Jongdae protests and very maturely sticks out his tongue like he doesn't want to share the couch -- which Minseok knows isn't true because Jongdae's middle name may as well be skinship -- but he relents when Minseok pinches his arm.

"That hurt," Jongdae cries as he drapes his arms around Minseok's waist and pulls him into his front away from the edge of the couch.

“It was supposed to,” are Minseok’s mumbled words into the soft fabric of Jongdae’s shirt.

“You’re mean.”

“You’re ruining the moment.” This is one of the few times Minseok wants the borderline romantic affection from the other, having actually missed Jongdae being around for the past week or so. Even though he’s had Lu Han to distract him, he and Lu Han are still sort of awkward with one another and sometimes he wishes Jongdae was there to liven things up. Minseok himself isn’t the most fun person there is and he can tell that Lu Han acts like he’s treading on thin ice around him, like he’s afraid that if he says something wrong Minseok will have a mental breakdown. Minseok appreciates his effort but he really just wants them to interact like normal people, normal friends.

As if realizing it would be most ironic if he, the neediest of needy best friends messed up one of his only opportunities to have a willingly participating Minseok in the palm of his hands, Jongdae threads his fingers in Minseok’s hair and changes topic. “What have you been up to while I’ve been busy with work?”

Minseok spares a look at his face. “The bartender you threw up on has been keeping me company.”

“Lu Han? You two are friends? Since when?”

Minseok shrugs.

“Then again, you two did seem awfully familiar with each other that one time,” Jongdae recollects, fingers pausing their massage of Minseok’s scalp. He glances down at the older man in his arms. “What do you two do?”

Shrugging again, Minseok sighs when Jongdae continues to play with his hair. “Usually watch or talk while I record games. But he taught me how to do miniature golf two days ago.”

Jongdae tries (very poorly) to stifle a laugh. “You didn’t know how to golf? Minseok, you hit the ball and it does the rest of the work. What kind of loser doesn’t know how to mini golf?”

“Do not make me kick you out,” Minseok warns, pinching the meat of Jongdae’s stomach and smiling at his whining. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen Jongdae in a while but Minseok is actually enjoying his time with his best friend more than he usually does, even if Jongdae is stupid and annoying and stupid.

“I’ll be good,” Jongdae says too quickly.

Minseok smiles, pulling his arms from where they’re folded against the other’s chest and grabs his face and spontaneously placing a kiss on his cheek. “Good.”

The way Jongdae’s eyes widen like he’s just found out the world was made out of candy makes Minseok’s smile widen and a light feeling fill his chest. “Did you just kiss me of your own free will?”

Minseok rolls to the floor when Jongdae jumps up from the couch to run around, scrambling for his phone. His laughter is unstoppable as he watches him hold his phone to his ear, foot tapping impatiently as he waits for someone on the other line to pick up. “Jongdae, what are you doing?”

Jongdae looks at him like the answer should be obvious. “What do you mean ‘what am I doing’? I’m telling my mom!”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

( EXTRA )

This is the only way I can help him. I'm just being a good teacher. Lu Han prays Minseok can't feel the thudding of his heart against his back. Or the sudden clamminess of his palms. He should have known it wasn't smart to get within such an intimate proximity to Minseok. The runt already makes him uncomfortable in the first place. Why is he stupid?

Trying to calm himself down, Lu Han shakes his head of all strange, heart swelling thoughts. Squeezing Minseok's hands beneath his, he looks down at the top of the shorter man's head. He smells nice. Like coconut. But that's irrelevant.

"So, uh, you wanna line the putter up with the ball. You can even tap it a couple times to make sure they're on the same level and you don't miss the ball. And then you just, uh, hit it," he instructs eloquently, going through the motions of what he explained but lifting the putter so it swings over top of the ball. With a last quick inhale of Minseok's coconut scent (which is not the reason for the unfamiliar nausea building in his stomach), he lets go and steps back to let Minseok try it on his own.

"You're so whipped, it's pitiful." Yixing side glances at him, attention on Minseok.

His words strike a chord in Lu Han who scowls. "I am not whipped. I have no one to be whipped over."

"Anyone could tell you get all soft around him." Yixing rolls his eyes. "I'm surprised, though. Never thought I'd see the day when you grew capable of having emotions other than irritability."

"I've always had emotions, dip. And I don't get ‘all soft’ around him. He has some sensitive social problems that I don't want to aggravate."

"Sure, that's what it is."

Lu Han doesn't appreciate the clear disbelief in Yixing's tone. "You-" He stumbles when Minseok grabs his arm and shows him that he got the ball into the hole.

"Han! I did it!"

Lu Han nods and smiles fondly at the man with his small hands wrapped around his arm.

"Han, I did it! I’d never be able to do it without you. We should get married." Yixing pitches voice as he mocks Minseok, then deepens it to imitate Lu Han. "Oh, you're so perfect, Minseok, let me worship the ground you walk on."

It's a good thing Minseok is standing right next to him, attached to his arm, because he really wants to deck Yixing right in his adam’s apple.

God, he hates Yixing.

( EXTRA END )