18: Luhan and Xiumin aren't good for each other. Their families know this, their friends know this, and they know it too. But when you're drawn to a person like those two are to each other, that's something almost impossible to let go. Pairing!XiuHan, Warning!(Hot)Angst

"Did it hurt?" Luhan heard a voice behind him ask.

"What?" He chuckled without turning around and his laugh wasn't a nice one. "You mean when I fell from heaven? Yeah, move along, buddy. That one's been done before."

The sudden weight of a hand on Luhan's shoulder turned him around in his barstool. "I actually meant something more along the lines of "Sorry, did my back hurt when you stabbed it with your knife?""

Luhan looked up at the voice, startled to see a face he hadn't even thought about in years. He gave his date a light tap on the and the girl took the hint, grabbing her purse and jacket with an exaggerated huff but scrambling away just the same.

"Why are you here, Minseok?" Luhan wanted to know why the first love who'd broken Luhan's heart right before Luhan had broken his in return was back in Seoul after being away in China for so long.

The other man shook his head, sneering, "It's actually Xiumin now."

Luhan's disdain was clear as he took Xiumin in with rolled eyes and a face masked by boredom. "Of course it it," Luhan commented drily. "You always did like fitting in."

Xiumin ignored Luhan's nasty words. They hadn't seen each other since they were in high school together, and since they were nearing 30 now, Xiumin didn't see the worth in explaining his side of that story to someone who had never wanted to hear it.

What he couldn't ignore, though, was the seamlessly right fit of Luhan's pants as they rounded his and stretched across his crotch; Minseok knew from youthful curiosity that Luhan's endowments were sizable, and he could only imagine how much Luhan might have grown in the time they'd spent apart.

As hyper aware of Mins–Xiumin as he'd always been, even though he hated it now, Luhan noticed Xiumin's blatant appreciation and extended some of his own. It was hot between them, but also in the room, and when Xiumin reached a hand to his collar to undo a few buttons and flap the fabric of his pressed black button up against his flushed neck, Luhan's tongue appeared almost of its own volition to hungrily at Luhan's lips.

The next thing either of them knew, Luhan was pressed onto his back in the passenger seat of Xiumin's car as Xiumin hovered, panting hard, above him. Xiumin's mouth and hands were everywhere—Luhan's hair, earlobes, jawline, collarbone—but he wouldn't kiss Luhan directly, even later when they were rocking roughly together in the darkness.

Their's wasn't a moment of making love—this was about hate.

So when they finished with nails crescented into Xiumin's skin, and bleached blonde hair fisted hard in Xiumin's hands, and twin exhales as their releases occurred together, Luhan wasn't particularly shocked to have Xiumin kick him out of the car half-, and then for him to drive away without a single glance back but then also with the rest of Luhan's clothes in his car.

They weren't good for each other. Sure, Luhan knew that objectively. They'd hurt each other too badly and too many times to make things work again. Sure, Luhan knew that too. But Xiumin was back in Seoul now, maybe even for good, and he must have gotten some damned good experience while in Shanghai because even Luhan wasn't sure what he would do if he saw Xiumin again.

Fate actually liked to push the two of them together, so with their luck, Luhan mused as he reached down to pull up and rebutton his pants before taking off down the street with a slight limp because of his bare feet, they'd probably see each other soon.