---

Prompt: “Death of a Loved One.”

Pairing: Suho/Luhan, Luhan/Kai

Words: ~2300

Dedicated to exosarang.

Warnings: character death

---

 

They have said that first love never dies.

 

When you truly love someone, you will always see him or her from afar. You catch their scent on the pillow next to you; feel the softness of their skin underneath your fingers, even if they aren’t there. You can see the invisible imprint of their body on the mattress, even in the sheets, though only you know it is there; only you know and only you see that it never seems to fade.

 

As days flicker by, you recall events you both shared, sometimes just ordinary day-to-day activities, like doing the grocery shopping or picking up the mail. You can still hear the endearing giggle of the other as an orange accidentally leaves the bottom of the grocery bag, and the other contents hits the concrete. 

 

The laughter of times long past and already too far-gone echo around in your head, returning time and time again like the ocean lapping at the shore.

 

Others forget. Slowly, the memory of the people surrounding you fades, and you are left with empty stares and blank gazes. But you remember. Even if you wanted to forget, the memory is there. It all seems so tangible, but just so, so far away. It will never go away; even if you will yourself to forget, it will still be there.

 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, just waiting for a prompt; the right current to help it resurface above the waves.

 

“Luhan…”

 

Luhan remembers Jongin’s light whispers, can still feel the tickle of air against his earlobe. The breathy ‘I love you’s and the way their bodies seemed to perfectly mesh together; the way he could barely tell where his body and Jongin’s body parted anymore. It was always like they were one.

 

Luhan shivers.

 

It doesn’t take long for the tears to prick in his eyes. He’d left abruptly, and Luhan still isn’t sure where he went wrong. Was it his fault that Jongin left? Was he too needy, too clingy, or did he not show enough love? Perhaps it was the little things; the small insecurities, that pressed Jongin further and further away from him.

 

Luhan knows that Jongin was broken. Luhan knows that he was broken too.

 

Luhan was like a porcelain doll, and Jongin was always the one to pick up his pieces. Hurtful and snide comments had been directed to him for years; he was too girly looking, short with a small frame, thin wrists that could hardly support his frame. He loved soccer though, and he worked hard to overcome his own insecurities and his physical weaknesses.

 

But, every now and then, the cracks would begin to appear. Luhan couldn’t take it, not always. But that’s where Jongin stepped in and swept him off his feet.

 

 

Jongin is gone.

 

 

It’s not as though Jongin had planned to leave. Their relationship was steady, or at least as steady as it could have been given the circumstance. Jongin was tall and tanned; a strong built young man in love with his dance. He was competitive and driven. He competed often and Luhan was always there to cheer him on. However, there were times where Luhan would realise just how much he was holding Jongin back.

 

Luhan prefers not to dwell on the past. He prefers not to remember the empty cupboard drawers, the lack of toiletries that usually lined the sink in the bathroom. Jongin’s medicine for his poor hip was gone. No shoes were left in the doorway, and the car was not in the lot, that one morning Luhan longs to shut out of his mind but fails miserably at doing so.

 

Luhan presses his forehead to the glass pane, looking outward. It is raining, or perhaps it’s simply sleet, making the sky a gloomy grey. Snow has begun to pile up outside the apartment and Luhan could see in the distance the flickering of red and green lights. He feels a single tear slip down his cheek and wipes it viciously away.

 

He will not cry again.

 

“Luhan? You’re sitting in the dark again…”

 

He turns, squinting a little as his bedroom light is switched on overhead, and a familiar figure enters the room. Luhan sighs, watching as his roommate steps towards him, handing him a small mug filled with warm, soothing liquid gold.

 

“It’s hot chocolate,” Joonmyun says with a smile.  “It looks like you could do with some cheering up.”

 

Luhan nods, taking the mug into his hands. He blows on it a little, feeling useless and self-conscious. Joonmyun is like his caretaker. Every time Luhan begins to feel down, Joonmyun is there to pick him up. Joonmyun cleans the apartment, does a majority of the cooking, and always makes sure that Luhan has a positive outlook when he leaves to work, in his pristine business suit and tie, ever careful not to scuff the floorboards with his freshly polished shoes.

 

Joonmyun has been with Luhan since Jongin left. Joonmyun fills Luhan’s scripts and brings Luhan his painkillers. He tells Luhan to cut down.

 

Luhan always questions Joonmyun’s motives. Why does Joonmyun put up with him? Why does he not leave, like Jongin did? To Luhan, it feels like everyone he comes into contact with will leave him. He feels depressed about a past that seems so unattainable, and lethargic about a future that seems so uncertain. Jongin will never come back for him, so why does he still wait?

 

And why does Joonmyun wait on him?

 

Luhan hears Joonmyun sigh from across the room, and the sound of his door squeaking shut. Luhan quickly jumps up, running after Joonmyun. He can’t remember when his heart picked up like this before. All Luhan can vaguely register is his need for answers, and he feels somehow that Joonmyun can give them to him.

 

Why did Jongin leave? Where did he go?

 

Why are you still here? Why do you even care about me?

 

Luhan makes it to the door just in time, fingers outstretched, somehow managing to loop his arm into Joonmyun’s jacket coat. Joonmyun turns, confused, as Luhan pulls him back into the doorway. He drags Joonmyun to the couch, noticing Joonmyun flinch a little as his shoes scuff the floor that is usually so completely clean. Luhan pushes Joonmyun down, taking a seat on the coffee table. Joonmyun is about to protest, but Luhan silences him with a glare.

 

“I don’t understand you!” Luhan whispers, feeling the rawness of his throat as the words he’s been meaning to say finally spill out. He is confused at the way his voice sounds; so coarse and broken. Joonmyun looks confused too.

 

“You’re actually going to talk for once?” Joonmyun asks. Luhan shrugs, noticing as Joonmyun raises an eyebrow. It looks familiar. Luhan has never seen Joonmyun look like this, but he knows that arch, somehow. He shakes his head, eyeing Joonmyun with distrust.

 

“Who are you?” Luhan finally breathes. Joonmyun lets out a light chuckle.

 

“Joonmyun, your roommate? Did you hit your head or something?” the older responds, concern filling his eyes.

 

Luhan shakes his head, turning away. He takes a deep breath, feeling the edge of the coffee table with his fingers. He clenches them around it, not knowing where his fear and anger is coming from. Joonmyun has been there for him, he reminds himself. Joonmyun has always been good to him, and hasn’t asked too many questions.

 

“Why do you stay with me, I mean?” Luhan asks, finally bringing himself to let their eyes connect.

 

Joonmyun shrugs, letting himself sink into the couch. He gives Luhan a small smile, before shutting his eyes and breathing steadily.

 

“I’m here because I owe someone a favour… Also, because I want to be here,” comes his simple response. Luhan’s brow furrows in confusion.

 

“What?” he asks.

 

“You want to know what happened to Jongin, don’t you?” Joonmyun responds, squinting his eye open a fraction.

 

Joonmyun eyes Luhan carefully, waiting for his next move. Luhan just sits there in stunned silence.

 

“You know Jongin?” Luhan asks incredulously, distrust in his eyes. Joonmyun simply nods.

 

“He was a friend…” Joonmyun responds carefully.

 

“Funny…” Luhan says quietly.  “He never once mentioned you.”

 

A pause. Joonmyun inhales sharply, standing up and closing the distance between he and Luhan. He takes Luhan’s hand in his, caressing his fingertips. Joonmyun’s touch is like feathers, light and ticklish. Luhan shivers as Joonmyun laces their fingers together, finding himself pressing into the warmth of Joonmyun’s coat out of his own control.

 

“That’s because I never existed,” Joonmyun whispers.

 

Luhan glances up, not knowing how to respond. Never existed? Joonmyun is definitely there, Joonmyun definitely exists. Luhan feels his warmth, Luhan feels their fingers, still entwined. He feels Joonmyun’s hot breath on his cold cheeks, can feel Joonmyun’s physical and tangible presence.

 

“What are you talking about?” Luhan asks, voice shaking. “You’re here. You’ve always been here… Haven’t you?”

 

Joonmyun sighs.

 

“Jongin is gone, Luhan.”

 

“I know,” Luhan responds icily.

 

Joonmyun sighs once again, and Luhan can feel him pulling away. Luhan growls, as Joonmyun finally stands, straightens himself up, and brushes a tear from his eye. Joonmyun bows, gently, and Luhan can see he is still crying.

 

“Jongin is gone, so that I could live,” Joonmyun says, voice cracking.

 

“What are you talking about?” Luhan snaps.

 

“There was an accident, Luhan…” Joonmyun says, taking Luhan’s hand once again.

 

Joonmyun pulls Luhan up, until they are both standing, facing each other. He brings Luhan’s hand to his chest, watching as Luhan’s finger curl up against the fabric of his blazer. Luhan feels his heart hammer in his chest, and shivers as an electric shock courses through him. Joonmyun loosens his tie, s the cuffs of his dress shirt, and pulls it downwards.

 

Luhan’s eyes widen, as a small cross-shaped scar is revealed on the left side of Joonmyun’s chest, right where his heart would be.

 

“Jongin was in an accident. A car accident, to be precise. I know who he was because he had his ID on him when it happened. I also know he went to the dry cleaners when it happened; they found the receipt in his pocket when they operated on him.”

 

“What?” Luhan whispers.

 

Joonmyun continues, as if uninterrupted. He closes his eyes, holding Luhan’s hand to his bare chest. Luhan tries to pull away, but Joonmyun’s fingers are curled around his slender wrists, holding him steadily in place.

 

“He died, Luhan. But he was an organ donor…”

 

Luhan’s eyes widen.

 

 “He gave his heart. I was waiting on a list for almost a year for a heart transplant, Luhan. I was born with a bad heart, and I was told from a young age I wouldn’t last long without a transplant. It got worse when I hit twenty, I had a fall and I never quite recovered. They put a pacemaker in, but it was never as good as having a proper heart…”

 

Joonmyun trails off, and Luhan can see the tears fall freely now. Luhan wipes one away with his free hand, and Joonmyun’s eyes fly open. He looks at Luhan softly, regarding him with nothing but love. Luhan blushes at his gaze, breath quickening. Joonmyun notices this, heaving a sigh as he lets go of Luhan’s hand, which falls limply by Luhan’s side. They stand, staring at each other, before Joonmyun continues.

 

“This heart is yours, Luhan,” Joonmyun says.

 

“Jongin gave it to me, but the second the anesthesia wore off, I knew it didn’t belong to me. At least, not completely…”

 

Luhan’s eyes widen.

 

“First love never dies,” Joonmyun says with a chuckle.

 

“You were Jongin’s first and only love, weren’t you, Luhan? My heart – no – his heart, knows it. So I came looking for you, and I moved in so I could look after you, and be with you. At first I thought it was because I owed Jongin a favour. He gave me life, after all. But I soon realised that this heart still aches…”

 

He sighs.

 

“It aches for you, Luhan!”

 

Realisation flickers through Luhan’s features. He feels himself fall to his knees, numbness coursing through him. He vaguely realises that Joonmyun collapses next to him, or that Joonmyun’s arms wrap around his neck and pull him in, so that Luhan’s crown is resting just below Joonmyun’s chin, and Joonmyun’s tears dampen his hair. He can only fully comprehend one thing.

 

Jongin is here!

 

 

Jongin is here.

 

 

Jongin is in Joonmyun.

 

Jongin never left him; he is still here for him! Perhaps Jongin is in a different form, but Jongin is still here. Jongin is in the walls, the trees, and the air. Jongin is in the air; the breeze that stills as snow falls and caresses the earth as seasons change.

 

“I loved him,” Luhan says, replacing his hand, willingly this time, on Joonmyun’s chest.

 

“I know you did, I feel it,” Joonmyun responds, placing a hand on Luhan’s chest.

 

“He’s not gone. Not yet, anyway. He gave me life… I understand that you still feel a loss for him. But, Luhan, he delivered me to you. The love he felt for you… I now share it, Luhan.”

 

Luhan nods, letting his eyes gently flutter shut. He can feel Joonmyun’s breath on his cheek, feel the way his own heart quickens as Joonmyun brushes his lips against his, so softly, so gently. Luhan is confused with how he feels, but he knows now that there is something he feels for Joonmyun. Not Jongin. Luhan still loves Jongin, and he always will. But somehow, along the way, he has fallen once again, and the bruises he has attained from this new attraction are still fresh.

 

So Luhan lets Joonmyun’s lips move against his, and he returns each kiss with as much vigor as he can muster. Their bodies press together, Joonmyun’s arms wrap around him, and Luhan can remember every touch that Jongin and he once shared, now transferred onto new love.

 

They have said that first love never dies.

 

Maybe it doesn’t, but one can certainly learn to love anew.