Minseok became smitten the second Luhan sang. Luhan fell in love the minute Minseok smiled.

"Is that everything?" Minseok asked softly as he adjusted a sleeping Yixing in his arms. A stuffed bag hung from his shoulders. The early morning sun hit Minseok and Yixing in just the right places that left Luhan dazzled at just how beautiful his former lover and son were. "Did he want to bring a toy?"

Minseok honestly tried to focus on Luhan. He tried to look at Luhan's soft face and gentle eyes. However, every time his eyes met Luhan's, he couldn't help but be reminded of the night Chen and he sat together, alone, drunk and talking. Plus, the sun burned his eyes and reminded him of the killer headache he had from the alcohol. He had to look away and thankfully, Yixing was there to disguise a distraction.

Luhan snapped out of his admiration and swallowed at the close proximity between the two. He gave a tight smile. "He wanted to bring his panda, so I stuffed it in the bag. Other than that, there's nothing else."

"Alright. Thanks for taking him this weekend," Minseok murmured. "He really missed you over the months, so I'm sure he's grateful."

Luhan hesitated over his next question, but decided to stammer it out anyway, "W-well, I'm in Seoul for a few more weeks before I have to fly back to China for another client. If Yixing wants, and you allow it, I'd like for him to come over more."

"Of course!" Minseok agreed immediately. He internally winced at his loud voice that caused his head to throb more. "He's your son, too. Just text me your dates, and we can arrange a time for Yixing to stay at your place again." His mind calculated the date now and realized that 'a few more weeks' was closer to . . . he bit his lip. Luhan recognized the habit as one of agitation and panicked over what he had said to cause Minseok it. "Will you . . . Will you be leaving for China after Christmas?"

The question hit Luhan hard. Suddenly ashamed, he ducked his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. He blew out a long, slow breath, watching it make cold puffs in the air. "No," he answered quietly. "I'll be leaving before. I won't get back until after New Year's."

Minseok tried to hide the disapproval that fought to show as a knee-jerk reaction. He pulled worried eyes at his former partner's handsome face, no matter how much it caused his heart to beat, and tightened his hold on Yixing. Formulating the words carefully on his tongue, he spoke, "Luhan . . . This would be Yixing's first Christmas without you. It's hard enough for him that--that we're not--" Minseok swallowed. "Please, at least--"

Luhan didn't miss the flash of disapproval. Irrationally angry, Luhan snapped, "Well someone has to the other half of the child care that you can't pay!"

The minute the words escaped his mouth, he regretted them.

Minseok's face flashed from shock, to anguish, and then to the hardened mask that Luhan became acquainted with in the last few months of their relationship. That pain and mask hurt Luhan far more than any beating he received in the entirety of his life. Oh, how he had promised long, long ago that he would never cause Minseok pain. Yet he did, over and over and each time, more hurtful than the last.

Shove off, Minseok.

I'm going out.

Don't hold your breath, love. I won't be back until late.

"M-Minseok," Luhan rushed. "I didn't mean--"

"No, that's okay." Minseok lowered his head to hide his filled eyes. He battled with himself to hold the tears in, to maintain his dignity in front of Luhan and in fear of waking Yixing. "You're right. That was selfish of me. W-We have to go now. Yixing has a last check up with the doctor later on. Remember to text me the dates, alright?" He turned before Luhan could answer and started to walk briskly towards his car. With his back turned, he bit his lip hard as a stray drop slid out of the corner of his eye.

Dumb. Stupid. Idiot.

His pace quickened. The mini van automatically slid the doors open for him. His hands skillfully fastened Yixing into his baby seat in a record's time.

"No, Minseok, wait!" Luhan cried, but Minseok had already strapped Yixing in and was in driver's seat. The car was out of the communal parking lot before Luhan could take another step. "No," he moaned. "No, no, no." Luhan dropped down the floor, hands threaded in his hair and pulling tightly at it. His eyes filled at the memory of Minseok's face after his harsh words. He was an idiot. When can he learn to shut up? Minseok was only asking to spend Christmas with them, for Christ's sake.

. . Damn.

I will never hurt you.

Luhan and Minseok met at a bar through mutual friends. It was cliche, and dirty, and both parties helplessly floundered.

 "Seriously, man," Yifan said with an arm wrapped around Luhan's shoulder. They were walking down the cold streets of a bustling city, where buildings towered, signs with Chinese characters littered the skies, and lights rivaled those with New York. Luhan would have shoved the arm off as he usually does if he wasn't sending some final emails to clients of his father's company. "You have got to get out more. You're in college! Independence, like that."

"Tell that to my dad," Luhan muttered, breathing a sigh of relief when his thumb pushed the last send. He pocketed his phone into his winter jacket and proceeded to shove Yifan's arm off. "I just can't wait until I get the stupid degree in business, and my father finally hands over the company."

Yifan hummed. "Or you could just, you know, not follow in your father's steps."

"I've been working my whole life for this," Luhan protested. "Plus, my entire family is depending on me."

"Well." Yifan led them around a corner, and they continued to dance with the dazzling lights and followed the grumpy crowd. "Tonight, you're going to get wasted and forget about that. There's some guys I know from that transfer program meeting with us. Remember Sehun and Chanyeol? I think they're bringing some others, too."

Luhan's eyes narrowed. "Is that guy you've been raving about ever since your trip to Korea going to be there?"

"No!" Yifan's face got hot. "He's not part of the transfer program, anyway. He goes to Seoul University." They stopped in front of a loud bar, where some teens were trying to pull off an older age. Once they showed their IDs (the bouncer looking excrutiatingly hard at Luhan), they proceeded to shove their bodies into the masses of heat.

"Yo! Yifan! Luhan!" A call cried from the loud crowd. A hand waved frantically at them, and soon, Chanyeol's face came into vision. "Over here!"

"Chanyeol!" Yifan replied and shoved more vigorously at the crowd. Luhan followed suit.

Luhan had always hated these kind of settings. It was too loud for him, and definitely too gross. The sweat that slicked off his skin as he brushed by people and the shared heat Luhan could feel suffocate him was not appealing. Usually, Luhan had to be drunk first before he was able to enjoy it.

His height was once again a disadvantage. He could barely keep up with Yifan's broad back, but at least he could see the tips of his blonde hair through the crowd to follow.

 Their group had managed to grab a small table, and Sehun's passive face and Chanyeol’s excited one greeted them both. A few others Luhan didn't recognize squished into the tiny booth.

Arms wrapped around him strongly. "Luhan! It's been so long!" Rapid Korean spoke in his ear that made him attempt to translate slowly Mandarin.

"Uh, yes," Luhan said awkwardly in the foreign language. The words twisted on his tongue. "Good job on finding a . . . table." He gave a sideways glance to Yifan, who was busy greeting Sehun with better Korean than his, due to the taller man's experiences in Korea.

Chanyeol grinned, not minding at all the language barrier. "It was tough. There was another group of guys that wanted it, and there was almost a fight, but good ol' Sehun with his scary face shooed them off." Even though Luhan couldn't understand half of the words, he nodded politely. "Oh! Let me introduce you to the others. They're also part of the exchange program, and they could really use some help with the language."

Luhan let himself be tugged closer to the table. Most of the others were talking comfortably with each other, not able to talk to anyone else due to the language barrier. "This is Junkook, Jongdeok, Daehyun, and the one all the way on the right being a loner is Minseok."

The one named Minseok jerked his head towards Luhan at the mention of his name. He had been gazing absently at the crowd, his expression not bored but enlightened at the obviously new experience. His slender fingers tapped rythmically on the table.

Minseok's dark eyes met Luhan's curious ones. Luhan moistened his lips at the pretty face and gave a half-hearted wave.

Minseok smiled. Luhan stopped breathing.

"Appa?" Yixing mumbled. He had woken from the jostlings of the car and was disorientated at the change of setting. Wasn't he just in bed?

"Hi, Xing," Minseok smiled in the rearview mirror. "We're almost home, okay?"

Yixing sat up from his booster seat abruptly. His frantic eyes flicked to the front passenger seat to the back of the car. When he didn't find who he was looking for, he exclaimed, "Where's baba?"

"Baba went to work," Minseok hushed him. "Remember? You're going back home today."

"Oh." Yixing quieted for a moment, eyes downcast as his baby teeth chewed softly on his lip. His head still couldn't wrap around the fact that he had two homes. Wasn't baba home, too? He looked up, again, where Minseok was watching him worriedly in the mirror. Glossy eyes were filled with confusion and hurt. Minseok felt that familiar, gut-wrenching pain in his stomach. "I didn't say goodbye, appa. Baba's going to leave again."

Pale hands tightened at the wheel. The father was silent for a moment, carefully picking the words to reply to the heartbreaking statements. It's not as if it's not true. He is leaving again.  And worse, he won't be back for Christmas. "Baba's staying in Seoul for a few more weeks, Xing," Minseok tried to comfort. "So you can see him anytime, okay?"

Yixing didn't answer.

Their first date was at a cheesy, quiet cafe. After much difficulty conveying his intentions through the language barrier, Luhan had successfully asked Minseok out.

Luhan had ordered some small red-bean baozis to share. Minseok had ordered a small coffee. The date was uneventful, with many stutters and mistranslations and blushes. Luhan distinctly remembered choking on his drink when Minseok flashed a wide grin at a lame joke Luhan cracked.

"You know," Luhan had said at one point during the date. He looked thoughtfully at the tiny dumpling he held in his hand. He glanced at Minseok's curious face, then to the dumpling, and then back at Minseok's face. "You look just like a baozi."

It took a moment for Minseok to translate the words to Korean with his limited language classes. Once the general message processed, Minseok's pale face flushed red as he stuttered and cried, "W-what?"

This time, Luhan felt his ears burning. He was mortified. Did he really say that out loud? "I-I'm sorry!" Luhan stumbled in Korean. The rest of his sentences were a mix of Korean and Chinese. "That was--that was so weird. Ah--um, I didn't mean to insult you, really! Oh my God, that was lame and insulting, I swear, I didn't mean it like that--"

Minseok burst into laughter. His slender arms wrapped around his abdomen as he bent over, giggles escaping his lips while Luhan flailed some more over his baozi statement.

After awhile, Luhan stopped his tirade. And stared. A laughing Minseok was beautiful.

Luhan vaguely remembered how the beatings of his heart never changed from that day.

"Chen's coming over today," Minseok tried to say cheerfully when he entered the living room. His son was sitting on the couch, watching his typical dinosaur show. "Why don't you clean up so that Chen can come over to a clean house?"

Ever an easy child, Yixing nodded readily. "Okay, appa." He wiggled down from the high couch and ran upstairs to clean his room first.

Minseok stared after his son wistfully, feeling extremely lucky to have Yixing in his life. His eyes strayed to that family portrait, sitting on the table by the stairs, and he tried to lift his lips.

It had been so difficult to take that photo. Despite being in his father's business, Luhan absolutely hated suits. He was always in suits, even today, but Minseok knew. He knew how that when Luhan came home, the first thing he would do is strip off 'the penguin suit' as Luhan called it and change into much looser clothing.

But the portrait had been formal themed. They had dressed Yixing in a little vest with a blue bowtie that the toddler adored. Ironically, it wasn't the toddler that put up a fuss over the picture. It was grown, mature Luhan who protested at dressing up and staying still for the camera.

"I don't know why we can't just take a selca and frame it," Luhan had grumbled, tugging at his tie.

"It's an official family portrait, Luhan," Minseok emphasized for the millionth time. "We can't just take a selca!"

"Can you guys hold still?" The photographer demanded. "Luhan, scootch tighter to the middle. Yixing, stop adjusting your bowtie, and Minseok, a little to your right--there! Now shut up for five seconds, and you'll be done."

In the end, they had managed a decent photo. Luhan looked disgruntled, but there was a loving smirk that graced his features, his hands gently holding onto his son's soldiers. Yixing's grin was wide, his dimple prominent, while Minseok gave a crooked smile to the camera.

How times were so disgustingly simple back then.

Yixing padded curiously down the halls to his room. He was excited to see Chen again, despite being sullen for his baba. He planned to do karaoke with Chen today and maybe play with the new legos Minseok bought him. And maybe Chen would stay long enough to cook. Yixing loved Minseok and would never waste food his father made him, but it was easy to say that Chen was the better cook.

As he made his way to his room, a bright, green light blinked rapidly at the corner of his eye. Still young and curious, Yixing stopped his direction and turned to investigate. It was the home line, the one where appa told him that he should never pick up without his father there.

The small LED screen flashed some characters along with the green light: LU HAN SIX MESSAGES PRESS 9 TO LISTEN. Yixing couldn't quite read all of the characters yet, but he could recognize his baba's name. What if  . . . What if Luhan was calling to talk to Yixing?

On his tip-toes, a small hand stretched for the number 9. Then he paused. Minseok did tell him to never pick up the phone alone, but this wasn't picking up the phone, right? He wasn't really disobeying his father, right? Before Yixing's short-term memory could change his mind, his finger smushed against the number.

"You have: six voice messages. One--beep--"

"Minseok!" Luhan's strangled voice burst into the air that had Yixing bouncing on his toes in excitement. "You didn’t answer your cell. Minseok, I didn't mean what I said. That was stupid. It's just--it's just work. I'll figure it out, okay? I'll reschedule something, I don't want to miss Christmas with Yixing either. Call me back."

Even though Yixing preferred Chinese, he still understood the Korean words Luhan spewed. Tears slowly came to his round eyes. Baba was going to miss Christmas? They weren't going to be together?

This wasn't a temporary thing?

"Two--beep--"

"Minseok, call me so we can arrange something. Maybe Yixing can come see me on the 22nd? I managed to push a meeting back . . . I--I know, it's still not Christmas, but God, what do you want me to do? I mean--that's not what I meant. Forget that."

"Three--beep--"

"Damn it, Minseok!" This time, the words came out in Mandarin. “It’s not my fault that I have to work, okay? It’s not like we don’t need the money. I said something stupid, but I don’t want that to ruin Yixing’s holidays. Father just said the proposals on the 24th aren’t able to be postponed, but . . . we can--we can, uh, facetime during Christmas. Call. Me.”

“Four--beep--”

Before the fourth message could start, the landline came to life, ringing loudly and startling Yixing. However, when Luhan’s name flashed on the screen as the incoming call, Yixing forgot all orders from Minseok and dove for the answer button.

“Baba!” Yixing cried, his eyes wet and his breath hitching. “Baba, baba!”

“Mins . . . Yixing?” Luhan’s gentle voice melodically transferred through the phone.

“Baba,” Yixing sobbed out. There was nothing else he could say. As four years old, the boy couldn’t think of anything but the fact that his other father was going to miss Christmas. Both of his fathers were always together for Christmas. Why was this year different? Why did everything change? He didn’t want it to change. He didn’t like the fact that baba and appa barely spoke to each other. He didn’t like it when appa cried silently in the kitchen or when baba would get that painful expression whenever he asked if he would come home soon. There weren’t many things that Yixing would insist on having, but all he wanted was normal.

Luhan gone for Christmas was not normal.

Having two homes was not normal.

“Yixing, love.” The voice was still gentle, but there was a hint of panic to it. “Where’s appa? Are you alone? Can you tell me where appa is?”

As if on cue, Minseok’s heavy footsteps came up the stairs rapidly. “Yixing? Who are you talking to? I heard voices. Are you on the p--” The father trailed off, taking in the sight in front of him. His small son was sobbing loudly in front of the low table that held the landline, which shone a steady green to indicate a call was on. A quick survey with his eyes told him it was Luhan on the line. “Xing, what’s wrong? Oh, no, don’t cry.” In a single step, Minseok had his son in his arms, crushing him to his chest safely. He felt small arms wrap around his neck, but the sobs didn’t die down. “Oh, Xing, you know you’re not supposed to answer the phone,” he chastised quietly, patting Yixing gently on the back. But again, he thought grimly. Who could blame him for wanting to talk to his father?

“Minseok, you there? Can you tell me what the hell is going on?”

Minseok hushed Yixing, who was babbling wildly in both Korean and Chinese. Some words Minseok caught, such as Christmas and Baba and Home. Rocking him, Minseok looked over his shoulder to read the small screen. Then grimaced. His son’s babbles suddenly became coherent to him.

“He was listening to your messages. He knows.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “Oh. Sh--”

“I’m going to put him to bed,” Minseok interrupted. He knew that his quieting son could still hear. “I’ll be right back.”

Getting Yixing to quiet down and sleep was a struggle, but once Minseok’s soft, comforting words penetrated his loud tears, the small boy drifted into a fitful sleep. Patting Yixing’s back gently one more time, Minseok sighed, suddenly more fatigued than ever. He knew he still had to face Luhan, whose voice never did fail to tighten his chest and strangle his voice.

“Luhan?” he asked tiredly, collapsing on the living room couch and putting his cell phone on speaker phone. He had asked Luhan to hang up the land line and call again on his cell so that he could talk away from Yixing’s room. “Are you still there?”

“Yes. Is Yixing okay?”

“No,” Minseok answered honestly. “But he’s asleep.”

“That’s . . . that’s good.” Luhan was quiet for a moment, and Minseok could almost see Luhan opening and closing his fist slowly, a sign of stress. “He shouldn’t have found out that way. About Christmas. I was planning to tell him on my last visit, when he got all my gifts.”

Still wouldn’t have changed the outcome, Minseok thought grimly. And he wouldn’t have to find out anything if you would be there for your son for onc--The man stopped mid-thought. With a breath, horrified guilt crushed him. No. This wasn’t Luhan’s fault. It was work. Luhan had been right this morning. They did need the money for Yixing’s child care, and it wasn’t as if Christmas and New Year was cheap. Horrible, terrible, terrible. Luhan’s tried. It wasn’t fair for Minseok to say otherwise.

“Minseok? Are you okay?”

Minseok forced out, “Fine.” Then, without a thought, he blurted, “Actually, no. I’m worried about Yixing.”

Luhan his dry lips and swallowed. Minseok could visually see the actions. “Yeah. This has been hard on him--”

“It’s been hard on all of us,” Minseok interrupted, his tone accidentally accusing. “It’s been a year. Sooner or later, this is going to become normal to Yixing.”

“Look, Minseok, you wanted this--”

“We both wanted it!” Minseok cried, scrambling to his feet. His fists trembled dangerously by his sides, his eyebrows scrunched in a devastating expression. He glared at the phone, eyes glossy, as if Luhan could see through the tiny screen. “We both needed it. You knew how this was going to end. With the ways thing were going, we were both suffering, so stop with the damn denial--”

Luhan’s vicious voice cut Minseok off, who was surprised at his own words. Usually, Minseok was the calm one. The pacifist. The one who took the separation in a quiet stride, painfully and civilly. The one who tried to keep up appearances for Yixing’s sake. “You stop wtith the damn denial, Minseok!” His distressed voice gargled in Mandarin. “You were the one who insisted on separating, and yet you keep getting our son’s hopes up! He’s old enough to know something’s wrong. You act as if this entire thing was my fault--”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying--”

“Yah, Minseok?” A third voice sliced through the escalating conversation. The front door swung open, and Chen’s head popped through the threshold. “I tried knocking, but no one answered. Come on, I got beer again, and I’m totally ready for some karaoke.”

Minseok turned around just as Chen entered their living room. Their gazes locked. Chen took in the hurt, angry face and furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Where’s Lay?”

Unfortunately, the phone was still on speaker phone. Luhan, who had imprinted the voice of the man who had captured Minseok’s attention into his mind, knew exactly who was talking. “Yeah,” Luhan said sarcastically, trying to mask his pain and the tears that were threatening him. “I guess I am the one in denial. How fast you were to move on from the separation, huh?” That’s not fair. Take it back. Apologize.

Minseok’s head snapped back to the phone. “What is that supposed to mean!”

“Nothing. Nothing, I--” Luhan took a deep breath. “We need to calm down. This isn’t about us. ‘Us’ is too soon . . . and over. This is about Yixing. I’ll call you in a few days to work out the days I can see Yixing before Christmas.” The line ended before Minseok could reply.

Their first fight was small and only lasted half an hour.

Minseok had accidentally shredded some documents of Luhan’s when cleaning. The documents weren’t very important, but Luhan was angry.

Words were thrown. Minseok angry at Luhan’s irrational anger. Luhan angry at Minseok’s disregardance for his anger.

Half an hour later, small touches were exchanged. Comfort ensued. Apologies. Love. Promises.

It was a pattern that continued.

Luhan stared at his phone. The number inputted into the call box stared tauntingly back.

He had, on a whim, saved the number on his cell phone the barista gave him the other day. Still raw and hurting from Minseok, he was now left alone, hunched over his desk, contemplating another rash decision.

Baekhyun. That was his name. Baekhyun. The one with beautiful hands.

Minseok had Chen. Why can’t he have someone, too?

He pressed the call button. Within seconds, a familiar, cheerful voice answered.

“Hi,” Luhan’s cracked voice answered back, and he cleared his throat to sound more casual. “I know this is weird, but you gave me your number in that cafe a few days ago . . .” A more excited response from the other end. “Um, yes. Again, weird, but . . . “

Luhan paused. Did he really want to do this? This wasn’t a step forward in his life. It was a leap. It was a risk.

“Are you free to grab a drink tonight?”

Please comment your thoughts and upvote if you liked it! There will be a few typos, and if so, please tell me so I can fix it. I still don't have a beta yet.