The vanilla-blonde boy growls loudly as Minseok rips the cream-coloured curtains apart and the lazy beam of rays blazes into the room through several layers of autumn leaves. Lemon, apricot, peach, tangerine, cranberry, sour cherry - he counts the various colours, imagining each as juicy fruits. His stomach growls quieter than Lu Han did and his thoughts wing back to the sleepy bed-head trying to hide from the sun under the covers. But Minseok tears the double blanket off of him and he gives his partner a cutting glance. A very cutting one.

"Do you have any clue what day it is?" He asks, lips quivering with anger.

"... Your birthday?" 

"That was nearly six months ago."

And indeed, there's no sign of tawdry wrapping of gifts anywhere in the slick bedroom. Nothing but tomes of psychology and architecture, some of them opened, lines or even paragraphs highlighted and neon post-its hanging out from between thick pages. Most of them belong to Minseok - Lu Han reluctantly brings himself to study. He refuses to memorise such a high amount of technical expressions and claims that his grades do not demonstrate his knowledge since it's pretty much based on personal experience and practice - he often states to his boyfriend that he's so fed up with university that he's going to quit and work as a dance tutor or a singer -, but he pathologically enjoys studying with Minseok, listening to his humming Korean voice and observing his perfect, reddish lips forming words he cannot hear nor read, floating in his very own sickeningly pink-veiled world in which he can only think about Kim Minseok, his Kim Minseok. And this is why Lu Han remains just a lovesick genius with an unwidened knowledge of psychology. 

So, in truth, Lu Han actually does not want to leave Tsinghua University.

"Then... Chuseok?" Lu Han wonders innocently as he lifts his gaze onto the autumn-coloured kaleidoscope of leaves. 

"You're one month late, Lu." Minseok sighs, pretty disappointed and he shoves the basin onto the bed. The pile of his used clothes flows onto the covers and Lu Han blinks while he's confusedly looking at the basic but still so Baozi-like pieces. Then he finally seems to understand what is going on. "Laundry day?"

The boy slowly nods and walks over to the wooden wardrobe where they keep their - mostly Lu Han's - clothes, opening its door and fishing out a red, knitted sweater with white lines on it. He puts it on then paces back to the end of the bed where his partner is still lying. "I give you one more chance. One more chance. And if you fail, then you are not going to be allowed to wear my clothes anymore. Got it? You are either going to wear your worn clothes or be roaming about ."

That wouldn't be that bad actually, he adds to himself in his head. Minseok knows Lu Han is quite foppish when it comes to his body and is confident, having a rather high self-esteem, so he teases the younger as much as he can. 

"It's been four weeks, Lu Han. Four weeks since you have done your laundry. That's almost a month."

"Got it." He confirms, jumping out of the bed wearing nothing but a light gray boxer that perfectly fits his slender figure. Lu Han rapidly runs his fingers through his thick, fair hair and turns to his boy, putting on a serious expression. He his lips in anticipation while glancing at Minseok, but Baozi just raises one eyebrow in disbelief and shakes his head. The blonde immediately understands his intention, resigning himself to the situation, however, he's not really willing to do so. "Got it." He repeats. And he springs to the built-in wardrobe and picks up the least fashionable clothes of his, then he leaves to the bathroom.

Minseok lets out the umpteenth sigh of his dedicated to his doe-eyed lover, and he bends down to the bed to get the dirty clothes back into the green basin. His thoughts grow wilder as he looks at the creases of the snow-white sheet covering the matress, hearing the running shower from the bathroom and Lu Han whining under the freezing water. But he closes his eyes for a moment to cool down his head. It's laundry day, moreover, you're utterly mad at him since he's a lazy little who's been stealing your clothes for about four weeks because he refuses to wake up on Sundays before it's afternoon, he reminds himself. And there's only one thing that is worse than Sundays: a cup of cold coffee.

Knowing that it's easier to keep Lu Han out of his mind when he's far away, Minseok quickly picks up the the basin held tightly to his hip and leaves the bedroom. He steps directly into the living room as he gets out of their so-called love nest. The two of them live in a loft - renting the surprisingly unpopular building's coolest flat on the 15th floor -, from where the sight of Zhongguancun can barely be seen, but the view is framed by the most beautiful Beijing maidenhair trees flashing their brand-new autumn gold outfits and the precisely organized leaf-mounds are their base. The lovely dumps are probably going to be destroyed by the Taiwanese twins who live a few floors lower, not because their aim is to piss off the janitor, but because it's such a natural thing to do when you're eight. The Korean boy stops for a moment while he's pacing downstairs - he looks out of the window in the flight's wall, a harrowing picture of Lu Han holding young children in his white arms flashes in front of his eyes and he gulps hard before sighing again. It's almost making him shed tears how bad he wants to have kids with his fawn. But ever since they got together, he's been afraid to ask Lu Han whether he wished for children. Not like he has any reason to worry; his Chinese bambi would always surrender himself to Minseok, however, he still feels a stubborn lump suffocating him every single time he opened his mouth to bring up the children subject. He is clear about the fact they couldn't have their very own ones, but he still can't help wanting to raise up kids together with the love of his life. Yet, somehow he isn't ready to tell Lu Han his desires. 

He enters the elevator and tries to calm his heart down.

So he just skips over the thought and continues his way downstairs to the laundry basement. While Minseok is leaving one stair behind after each step, he nearly bumps into the kind-hearted Korean lady whose dark eyes always light up with overflowing joy when she's seeing the boy from the same nation, and he greets the old woman. The two of them excitedly start talking on a language that no one but them - plus Lu Han, if he is willing to - understands in the whole building and somehow it feels truly magical everytime Minseok is able to chat with the lady who reminds him so much of his own mother, although in looks, they are the exact opposite. He keeps smiling and nodding while listening to her, but his eyes are becoming blurry as the memories approach him. At these times he always realizes how much he misses his parents, Guri, his elementary school and old friends, but it was all worth giving up only for one boy. Lu Han...

Soon, he puts on a regretful smile and says goodbye to the lady. They part ways and after forty-six more steps Minseok enters the laundry room in the basement. It's rather big and the ceiling is high. There's no way any human could hit his head in the canopy, he thinks in himself as he paces down to the washing machine they usually use. He puts the basin down on to the scrawny plastic table standing on metal legs and turns his back to the wall to greet the young mother of two who is voicelessly packing toddler clothes in various pastel colours into the washing machine. She lifts her head up, hearing the soft "hello", then she tucks her shoulder-length, shiny raven hair behind her tiny ear. An absentminded smile plays on her full lips while she forms a coy "hi" and Minseok wonders why her husband left her behind with two small children. 

Then the young woman leaves the laundry room. He finds himself preparing the clothes washer all by himself. The boy feels alone so he reaches up to the radio placed on the window-sill and a short minute later music echoes in the lonely room where usually nothing but the loud noise of the working machines can be heard. Minseok smiles to himself as he notes that the song on the radio is the one Lu Han loves so much and he remembers that once, when they heard it together for the first time, the blonde boy sprang up from the couch, grabbing his wrist and pulling up Minseok with him - he slid his fingers onto the older's waist, took his hand while he whispered:

"I'll teach you waltz"

And it is something Minseok never thought would happen, but something his heart treasures terribly much. 

As the song loudens, he slides his fingers down to his waist while hugging himself just like Lu Han did when they were dancing, and he starts rocking his hips to the music that steals into his body through his ears, the rythm spreading rapidly, running back and forth in his veins. Minseok gives himself in to the heart-rending ballad, forgetting all his troubles and worries, repeating his beloved fawn's voice from that sweet night in his mind. He lets his soul take over control - yet all he can think about is Lu Han.

Two arms fight their way to Minseok and pull him into a fragnant hug, knocking him out of his dreamland and he gasps surprisedly; the Lu Han of reality covers his opened mouth with his own - he stares into doe-eyes lit up with pure serenity seeing the one they wish they could see every second in their owner's remaining life. The Chinese boy tastes sweet, his hair smells like flower balm perfume.

"What were you just doing, Baozi?" 

Minseok avoids Lu Han's question after they separate their lips and he jumps onto another topic. 

"What were you doing that took so much time?"

"I made you coffee." The boy answers wittily as he smiles at his love.

"Did you?" 

"No, but I will if that is what makes you happy." 

Minseok snorts and shakes Lu Han's arms off of him. He turns around, facing him.

"The only thing that would make me happy right now is if you did your laundry." He spits out grumpily. 

"I will" Lu Han replies simply and softly. "And I will also make you coffee. So are we good now?"

"No" sounds the short answer. 

"So we are." The younger wears the happiest smile ever as he's looking at Minseok. "I love you."

Chills run down the Korean boy's spine and their eyes meet for a magnificent moment. Minseok catches Lu Han's longing gaze and he knows that he cannot say no to this angel. 

"I love you too."