It was Sehun’s greatest hope that the day went well. He’d been looking forward to the doctor’s visit for weeks now, and even more so what he had planned for afterwards. If there was a god at all, and Sehun kind of really hoped there was, the day would go well.

Luhan’s hand settled on Sehun’s knee and he said quietly, aware of the people around them in the hospital’s waiting room, “You seem nervous.”

His knee had been jiggling. When Luhan’s hand stilled it Sehun realized the tick for what it was.

“A little,” Sehun confessed, a smile making its way onto his face.

Luhan rolled his eyes. “Don’t make that handsome face at me. Everything is going to be fine.”

“This one?” Sehun asked, pointing a finger at himself.

“That one,” Luhan agreed, his hand not lifting from Sehun’s knee. “What are you nervous about?”

They’d been waiting for Luhan’s appointment for just over fifteen minutes, and it had been more than enough time for Sehun to start to morbidly fantasize about everything that could go wrong.

Sehun shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

He expected Luhan to let it go after that, but his face twisted into a grimace and he said, “Actually, before we go in there, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Something bad?” Sehun asked right away, his stomach dropping out from under him.

“I don’t know,” Luhan said with a shrug. “Look, I’ll just come out with it. My doctor is Xiumin’s sister. Have I told you that before?”

Stunned just a bit, Sehun said, “If you have, I missed it. His sister is your doctor?”

“She wasn’t originally,” Luhan said, his fingers splayed out on his stomach. It was the same stomach that Sehun’s own hands had nearly been glued to earlier. “I mean, she was the first doctor I went to see right after we slept together.” For the last part Luhan’s voice dropped to near a whisper.

“Okay,” Sehun eased out.

Luhan continued, “She tested me for all the basics and then cleared me afterwards. She wasn’t the doctor I went to when I found out I was pregnant, but when I just felt uncomfortable with the others, I came back to her. I’ve known her for years, Sehun, and she makes me feel calm when she’s making sure our baby is okay.”

“What kind of a doctor is she?” Sehun questioned.

As another person filed into the waiting room, Luhan said, “She’s a pediatrician right now, but originally studied to be a neonatal specialist.”

Sehun’s knee started bouncing again. “What does that mean?”

Luhan squeezed his knee in a comforting way. “It means that she is more than capable of walking us through this pregnancy, and overqualified if there are any issues. I just thought you deserved to know.”

Sinking a little in the plastic chair, Sehun offered, “Is that your way of telling me that this is going to be all kinds of awkward?”

Sounding reluctant, and something else Sehun couldn’t make out, Luhan replied, “Likely, considering it’s very possible that Xiumin told his sister that he kissed me the other day and I rejected him.”

Sehun snapped up so fast in his chair that he startled Luhan and garnered himself some dirty looks from across the waiting room.

It sounded like a hiss to himself as he demanded, “He did what?”

“Calm down,” Luhan said, expression dark. “I don’t think anyone else needs to be a part of this conversation.”

Sehun ducked his head in close to Luhan’s and asked more quietly this time, but with no less aggravation, “He kissed you?”

In a daring and dangerous way, Luhan said, “Don’t you dare look smug, but I asked Xiumin upfront if he had feelings for me. I asked him if your suspicions were true.”

“That’s when he kissed you?”

Luhan gave a sharp nod. “He went for it. I never even saw it coming.”

Sehun had been warned not to be smug. Smug was certainly not how he was feeling. No, it was plain and simple anger that was creeping up on him. How dare Luhan’s best friend try anything? What had the man been expecting? That Luhan would simply fall into his arms? That wasn’t Xiumin’s baby that Luhan was carrying around.

It was Sehun’s baby.

Luhan was …

“Sehun?”

Feeling panicked, Sehun’s eyes jerked over to a concerned looking Luhan. “Yes?” What the hell had he been thinking? What was the jealousy and anger that was threatening to boil over?”

“This is a hospital but I’d prefer if you didn’t look like you need medical attention.”

Trying to seem much calmer than he felt, Sehun asked, “Did you kiss him back?”

It was … it should have been okay if Luhan had. Sehun absolutely had no say over what Luhan went and did with himself, as long as it didn’t affect the baby. If Luhan had feelings for his best friend, then it was something Sehun would have to accept. But first he’d have to figure out why his heart felt like it was suddenly being dragged through broken glass.

“--miss the part where I told you where I rejected him?”

“Huh?” Sehun asked.

Luhan let out a low breath. “Xiumin kissed me. He said he loved me. He wanted me to return those feelings but I couldn’t. I told him the truth, and I hurt him, but I couldn’t lie to him. I didn’t kiss him back, either.”

Sehun felt boneless. “You rejected him.”

“I love him,” Luhan clarified, “but not the same way he loves me. I don’t think he took it well.”

“Was he mad?” Sehun asked, and he reached for Luhan’s hand to give it a supportive squeeze.

“He won’t speak to me,” Luhan said, pushing his free hand through his bangs. “He isn’t taking my calls, he wouldn’t answer the door when I went over to his apartment, and if he doesn’t completely hate me now it’ll be a miracle.”

Sehun felt the softness of Luhan’s fingers and never wanted to let go. “You know he doesn’t hate you. He’s upset and he’s hurt, but he doesn’t hate you. Give him some time. He’ll come back around.”

In a surprised way, Luhan said, “That’s surprisingly mature of you, Sehun. You don’t even like Xiumin.”

How much he liked or disliked Luhan’s best friend didn’t seem to matter at the moment. The only thing Sehun could concentrate on was that Luhan had rejected Xiumin and Sehun wouldn’t spend the next two decades watching them make out every time he came around to see his daughter.

“I guess not,” Sehun admitted. “We got off to a bad start.”

“Bad is an understatement,” Luhan chuckled.

Sehun offered, “Maybe we’re just not meant to get along. Some people aren’t. Anyway, you know it doesn’t really matter if I like him or not. He’s your best friend. If you want him in your life, and if you want him in our daughter’s life, then I’ll deal with it.”

The lingering look that Luhan gave him was baffling.

“What?” Sehun found himself asking, not sure if he’d said the right thing.

“We fought over you,” Luhan said finally, releasing his grip on Sehun’s hand. “He said that you weren’t dependable. He didn’t think you’d be reliable, or even mature enough to handle this. He wanted to be there for me instead. It wasn’t just about him being in love with me. I think maybe I involved him too much in this pregnancy in the beginning. Our fight was about him wanting to stand in for you, and thinking that any option would be better than you.”

Sehun huffed out “Well, frankly I don’t care what he thinks about me.”

“I don’t believe a word he said anyway,” Luhan said, giving a firm nod. “You’ve proven to me over and over, time and time again, that I can depend on you. I can trust you.”

That was … a lot of pressure. It freaked him out to no end to know that Luhan was counting on him so much, and held him in such high regard. He was afraid now to make a mistake, or do the wrong thing. He was afraid to let Luhan down, or their daughter. He was more scared now than when he’d found out Jae was pregnant.

He hadn’t been scared when Jae had died. Just lost.

“Well,” Luhan said shoulders slumped in defeat, “either Xiumin will come around or he won’t. I can’t control him. I can’t even predict him. I guess I should just be patient.”

Tomorrow, Sunday, sparked recognition in Sehun’s mind and he asked, “Do you think he’s coming to the picnic?”

In less than twenty-four hours, in a move that was either very brave or very stupid, Sehun and Luhan would be uniting the whole of their two closest friends and hoping for the best. Together he and Luhan had planned a picnic in the nearby park, on neutral ground, and at the very least hoped to bribe their friends into hanging around with expensive beef.

“I don’t know,” Luhan said. “But I guess that’s a worry for tomorrow. Right now I just want you to be prepared that Xiumin’s sister is unbearably overprotective of him from time to time. If we go in there it’s a possibility that she’ll be angry at least one of us.”

Sehun tucked his hands behind his head and said, “I hope it’s me, at least. I don’t want to cause a scene if she’s mean to you.”

“She wouldn’t be unprofessional,” Luhan said, sounding absolutely sure. “I just don’t think she’ll be nice if Xiumin told her I broke his heart into a million of pieces and then hounded him to talk to me afterwards.”

Sehun tried to give a reassuring smile. “Like you said earlier, there’s no need to be nervous. Right?”

“I lied,” Luhan replied with a toothy grin.

Sehun laughed. “I thought so.”

Luhan’s fingers inched their way back to Sehun’s knee.

The onslaught of pleasure and ease that coursed through Sehun, like the anger and jealousy, was just as unexpected. But not so much a mystery.

Ten minutes later Sehun was following a wobbly Luhan to an examination room. Once inside he helped Luhan remove his shoes and then foist himself up on the high table that he laid back on a second later.

“Okay?” Sehun asked, hoping to keep him as comfortable as possible.

Luhan offered, looking uncertain, “Just sit with me?”

Sehun nodded quickly and took up residence at the chair to the side. “No problem. If you need something else, just let me know.”

Xiumin’s sister, when Sehun met her ten minutes later, looked so much like Xiumin that Sehun must have seemed a fool, head cocked and expression blank.

She stared back a little in shock too, the hint of something on her face as she peered at Sehun appraisingly.

“You’re not my brother,” she said pleasantly, then held out her hand to Sehun and introduced herself as Eunji. “Luhan, are you trying to make this a little more exciting for us?”

Luhan’s eyebrows rose as he leaned up on an elbow. “You haven’t … talked to Xiumin recently?”

She shook her head easily. “Not for about a week. Why?”

“No reason,” Sehun cut in, hoping he sounded casual. “I’m Oh Sehun.”

From slightly behind them, Luhan said, “Sehun is the other father.”

Xiumin’s sister gave a satisfied nod. “It’s about time you made it to one of these appointments.”

“I know,” Sehun said quietly as they all settled in.

Sehun had gone with Jae to nearly every single one of his doctor visits, from month two all the way until month eight. He’d known about his baby’s progress nearly every step of the way, and almost nothing had been a surprise in the extremely typical pregnancy. Jae had always found it hilarious how routine his pregnancy was, and Sehun had always been thankful.

Luhan’s, apparently, was not so much so.

“I’ve got your most recently bloodwork results here, Luhan,” the doctor said. She didn’t have a pleased expression her face. If anything it was a worried one.

“Is it what we talked about last time?” Luhan asked, fear in his voice.

She nodded. “It’s irrefutable now. It’s gestational diabetes.”

Sehun felt light headed. “He’s got what? What’s wrong, Luhan? Wait!”

The doctor turned towards Sehun and said evenly, “Yesterday Luhan came in for a preliminary checkup, just to give us a bit of blood and urine to run for all the usual suspects. We’ve been monitoring Luhan’s blood sugar level for several months now, watching it climb into an abnormal territory.”

Sehun reached for Luhan’s hand and gripped it tightly as the man asked, “There’s no mistaking the test results?”

When she shook her head slowly, it was as if Sehun felt all of the energy drain from Luhan’s body.

“What does this all mean?” Sehun demanded, trying to meet Luhan’s gaze. “How serious is this? Diabetes is bad.”

The doctor took a seat on a stood and rolled it over to them, balancing Luhan’s chart on her knee expertly. “This is most certainly gestational diabetes, which means that barring any complications, once Luhan has the baby, everything should go back to normal. Luhan, how extensively are you aware of your family’s medical history? Have gestational diabetes, or regular diabetes for that matter, been a factor in that medical history?”

The paper lining the bed Luhan was lying on crunched a bit as he shifted, then said, “I’m not sure. My family and I … we don’t exactly communicate well. My parents aren’t very sentimental and we rarely just talk. In fact, I’m not really speaking with them now.”

Sehun asked him quietly, “I know they haven’t supported you, but maybe you should try to talk to them now? For the sake of the baby?”

Luhan gave a silent nod and Sehun tried to return a warm grin. “They can’t be that terrible, right?”

Finally, Luhan cracked a smile. “You have no idea. But for the baby, I’ll ask them about their medical history.” Sehun realized that also meant Luhan telling his parents about the baby, which he was most certainly sure Luhan hadn’t done yet.

Turning back to the doctor, Sehun asked, “Does this mean that Luhan needs to take shots? Insulin shots?”

With a frown, Luhan asked, “I’ll have to give myself shots?”

The doctor stood from her chair and gave Luhan’s exposed ankle a soft pat. “I think your gestational diabetes is very manageable at the moment. I’m going to prescribe you an oral medication. You’ll still have to check your blood sugar before and after you eat, and at other intervals during the day if you aren’t feeling well, but for now I think we can hold off on the shots. Unless you’re prefer them?”

“No way,” Luhan rushed out.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Now, you know we’re going to talk about how by the time you come see me next, you’ll be in your third trimester. Let’s go over some restrictions. Sehun, you pay attention as well. Luhan seems the sneaky type. You may have to sit on him to enforce these restrictions.”

“Hardy-har,” Luhan said, rolling his eyes.

“He’s not going to like these, is he?” Sehun asked, and he could tell now why Luhan had decided to stay with her as his doctor, regardless that she typically oversaw few pregnancies. She was charming and charismatic, friendly and funny. She put Sehun at ease, even when dealing with complications to the pregnancy. She was much more personable and amiable than her brother.

And there was something about her. There was something familiar, that made him feel like he knew her already. It was a comforting feeling.

“Not even a little,” Luhan answered for her.

But the restrictions, Sehun thought after hearing them, weren’t that bad at all. Luhan’s diet had to be more closely monitored, he had to stay off his feet for more hours than he was on, and he absolutely had to stop breathing in paint fumes.

By the time the ultrasound technician was there, rolling the machine in, Sehun was only just coming to realize how scary it all had to be for Luhan. How had he not gone running for the hills with absolute terror by now? There were so many things he could or couldn’t do, and there was also the constant worry that something could be wrong the baby at any time. Sehun had never felt more on the sidelines, but also never more disappointed in himself for not being there since the beginning.

“Ready to see your baby?”

“Very,” Sehun said, clearing his throat.

It was all terribly embarrassing, however, thirty seconds later when the ultrasound gel was on Luhan’s stomach and their baby was visible from the monitor. Embarrassing because while Luhan was sighing in happiness, Sehun was pressings his palms to his eyes, trying not to weep like a little girl. He was openl sobbing by the time their baby’s heartbeat was sounding through the small room.

“There she is,” the doctor said, clearly pleased by what she saw. “And … everything looks good at a quick glance.”

“Sehun,” Luhan prodded gently. “It’s okay.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sehun wiped at the tears almost furiously. “Where’s the head? The arms?”

The doctor’s finger traced along the screen. “This is the head, and her are the arms, the legs, and the curve of the spine. When Luhan comes to see me next time we can have a 3D ultrasound done. You’ll be able to see your child’s face then.”

“Her face?” Sehun asked, unable to believe such a thing was possible. Jae’s doctor had never mentioned it.

“It’s a little scary,” Xiumin’s sister laughed out, “and not all parents are comfortable with it, but I think the two of you will be. If anything it’ll give you a couple of months to argue over who she looks the most like.”

Surprised, Luhan wondered, “The 3D ultrasound will be that good?”

She nodded.

“I bet she’ll have your jaw, Sehun,” Luhan said definitively. His fingers brushed against the inside of Sehun’s wrist which caused Sehun’s heart rate to spike. He desperately hoped Luhan couldn’t tell it had happened.

“Maybe if she were a boy,” Sehun grinned and said. “But we probably shouldn’t hope that our daughter has a strong jaw line.”

Luhan nodded. “Then your eyes. They’re my favorite thing about you when you smile.”

With shaking fingers Sehun reached out and touched Luhan’s side, feeling the ripple of movement underneath. On the monitor their daughter was fidgeting, moving around and giving Sehun the best look at her he’d ever had. He had tacked up to his refrigerator all the photos Luhan had sent him of her over the past few months, but it was something very different to see her live on the screen. It made him feel closer to her.

“That’s it, gentlemen,” the doctor said eventually, helping Luhan wipe his stomach off and switching off the ultrasound machine. “Questions?”

Sehun only had about a million. But to the doctor’s credit she sat patiently and listened to each one before reply with a calm answer. And she did have answers to each of his concerns, settling some of the unease in him. Even the question he thought were dumb, she had patience for.

“What did you think?” Luhan asked when they were making their way through the hospital.

For the first time Sehun noticed that Luhan had the slightest of a shuffle in his walk now. He was quickly approaching the end of his fifth month and while Luhan’s hips remained worryingly narrow, his stomach was only expanding more and more every day. It was obvious that walking wasn’t something Luhan was doing with complete ease anymore. It was kind of adorable.

Sehun was never going to tell Luhan that his almost waddle was cute, though. He wanted to live long enough to see his daughter born.

“Oh, hey,” Luhan said, pulling at Sehun for a quick second. “This is the mural that I was commissioned to do.”

They were moving through the pediatrics wing of the hospital when Sehun tipped his head back, looking at the explosion of color on the walls and ceiling.

“You painted this?”

“I did,” Luhan said. “It was fun. I got to hang out with the kids all day, do what I love the most, and create something that I hoped would make other people just a little happier.”

Sehun chuckled, “If I were a kid, this would be pretty amazing. Heck, I’m not a kid and this is amazing.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me,” Luhan warned.

Sehun gave him a pointed look. “Good thing it’s not flattery then.”

They had to wait quite a while longer before they could leave the hospital, dropping by the pharmacy to get the proper medication. Luhan, who’s ankles had already begun to hurt, sat in a nearby chair while Sehun stood in line, Luhan’s prescription in hand.

As the line inched forward Sehun couldn’t help wanting to take back his thoughts from so many weeks ago. Luhan was glowing. He was brilliant and so magnificently glowing that he was like a star going super nova. He was the only source of light in the room as far as Sehun was concerned.

“Oh, ,” Sehun mumbled, eyes widening as Luhan gave him a supportive smile and Sehun’s heart beat thunderous in his chest. “, .”

Luhan gestured at him, silently asking if Sehun wanted him to come join him in line.

Only able to shake his head, Sehun could pinpoint the feelings inside him for Luhan for exactly what they were. These were the things, the protectiveness, the warmth, the happiness, that he’d felt when Jae had been alive. These were emotions Sehun had thought were completely gone, or buried so far down in him that they’d never see the light of day.

But Luhan was making him feel them. Luhan was source of them.

And the feelings, more than anything else, were a betrayal to his husband.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Luhan said when they were in the car, sitting in the parking lot still.

“I should have come long before this,” Sehun said, hands gripping the wheel. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you kidding?” Luhan asked, the seatbelt stretched across him prominently. “You being here is more than I could ask for. Sehun, I’m not going to hold you to the standards of other men. There are extenuating circumstances in all of this. You don’t need to pretend like there’s some shame in the way you acted in the begging.”

“Isn’t there?” Sehun asked. It certainly felt that way.

“Can I just be happy you were here today? Can I just have that?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Sehun turned the key in the ignition. “And at least Xiumin’s sister was really nice. That could be because she hasn’t talked to her brother yet, but who knows. She does seem like she’s a genuinely nice person.”

“She is,” Luhan assured. “I’ve known her since I first moved to Korea. Even when there was a language barrier between us, she was very patient and always kind. She’s getting married soon. Xiumin told me the guy she’s marrying is nice, too. It kind of gives me hope, you know, that some people get to have that happy ending.”

Sehun reared back a little, then offered, “Maybe we don’t get to have a conventional happy ending, but I think we get something close to it. Isn’t that what our daughter is?”

The air was going stale in the car before Luhan said, “You’re right. No matter what happened to bring us to this point, when our daughter is old enough to understand, she’s going to know that the only thing that matters is that she’s got two parents who love her very much. That’s a happy ending in my book.”

Sehun’s plan had been to take Luhan home after the doctor’s appointment. Ever since Jae had died Sehun had taken on more and more work, throwing himself headfirst into time consuming projects and using the weekends for additional work time. His intent had been to take Luhan to his apartment, then double back to the office for overtime. But he suddenly didn’t want to do any of that. He didn’t want to be distracted by his work.

Easing the car out of the parking space, Sehun asked, “What are you doing this afternoon?”

There was most certainly a guilty look on Luhan’s face as he said too quickly. “Nothing.”

“Luhan?”

“Okay,” Luhan spilled, his smile too infectious. “I’m working on something. I’m working on a new series of paintings, actually. I want to get them finished before my third trimester when I have to stop. I need to get them finished by then.”

“But not after, right?”

If anything happened to the baby … if there were any complications or birth defects …

“I’m sorry, you know. Truly sorry.”

“For being an artist?” Sehun asked, trying to lighten the mood. “I think that’s the kind of apology your parents might want to hear, certainly not me.”

Luhan scoffed, “I’d never give them satisfaction of hearing me say anything close to that. No. I mean about this.” Luhan reached down to the floorboard in front of him and hefted up the bag of medication. “I’m sorry about getting gestational diabetes. I’m sorry for endangering our baby.”

“That wasn’t on purpose,” Sehun said, jerking the parking brake on immediately. “And it’s not your fault. You heard the doctor, sometimes these things just happen. There could be a family history of it, or this could just be something random. But no matter what, you didn’t do this and you’re not to blame. You have taken amazingly good care of our baby, and I know you would do anything to protect her. Don’t be sorry.”

“It feels like it’s my fault somehow,” Luhan said, eyebrows furrowing. “I would have extra desert sometimes, or eat salty food that I knew wasn’t good for me.”

Sehun reached across the car to slip a hand under Luhan’s chin. His fingers curled around Luhan’s jaw, the barest hint of stubble there, and he insisted, “This is gestational diabetes and we will handle it together. We’re going to be extra vigilant with your blood sugar levels, and when you have the baby, both you and she will be perfectly fine. Do you believe me?”

Luhan gave as jerky nod.

“Then, do you know what we need?”

Voice shaking, Luhan asked, “A therapist.”

Easing off the parking break, Sehun admitted, “Probably me more than you. But no, what we need first is lunch, maybe just so we can figure out how to check your blood sugar levels. Then we need some good luck. I say we buy it.”

“Buy it?” Luhan asked, but he certainly looked interested. “You know where we can buy good luck?”

“Of course I do,” Sehun said, waving a hand at him. “Buddhist temples sell them all the time. And I just happen to know where one is that’s located conveniently near a great place to eat. What do you say?”

“Lead on, then. And I hope you brought your wallet.”

Sehun was prepared to plaster his car, his home, and Luhan if necessary, with good luck charms. He said to Luhan, “I’ve got enough to buy every temple north of Busan out of good luck charms. Trust me, I’ve got this covered.”

It was, upon retrospection hours later, the best time Sehun had had in months. They ended up eating at a staunchly traditional Korean restaurant that included a six course meal and a wealth of history that Luhan in particular found interesting. And then it was off to the nearby Buddhist temple.

Jae had been Christian, and Sehun absolutely wasn’t Buddhist, but there was something oddly calming about the temple as he and Luhan lit candles, burned potpourri and offered quick prayers with bowed heads. Good luck charms were given free of charge and Sehun hung one deliberately on the rearview mirror as they made their way back into Seoul.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” Sehun asked before Luhan could get out of the car when they were back at his apartment. “I’ll pick you up.”

Luhan ducked his head. “You’re doing all the heavy lifting and carting of things around for tomorrow. I could just take the bus, you know. Or get Kris to drive me. He’s going and he’s got a car. He doesn’t live too far away. I don’t want to be another thing you have to worry about.”

No. There was absolutely no way Sehun was letting Luhan take the bus. Buses were prone of shakiness, sudden braking, all kinds of dangers, and Sehun was not willing to let Luhan risk anything because he thought he might be putting Sehun out.

“Let me come get you,” Sehun said, hoping it sounded like a request. It’s no big deal. I want to.”

Luhan shrugged. “Okay. Eleven tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Sehun shouted after him.

Sehun sat in his car until he watched Luhan pass through the doorway and up the stairwell. He fought back the urge to run after Luhan. And he tried to squash down the feelings that came with that urge.

It was the unexpected sound of his car door opening that broke Sehun out of his thoughts, and then the fear that followed as a person slid into the seat that Luhan had just occupied.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sehun asked when he recognized Xiumin in the passenger seat. “Why are you in my car?”

“Because we need to talk,” Xiumin said, a stone face reflecting back to Sehun.

Sehun could barely believe the audacity of the man next to him. “Forgive me, but I don’t exactly want to talk to you right now. About anything. So kindly get out of my car before I make you.”

Xiumin crossed his arms. “I’d like to see you try. And then you can explain to Luhan that you accosted me when the noise of me punching you in the face, brings him down from all those stairs he just climbed.”

“You’re hilarious,” Sehun shot back, “thinking that it’ll be you breaking my nose, instead of the other way around. Especially since you’re the one who tried to kiss Luhan the other day.”

Xiumin looked even more furious. “That’s none of your business.”

“Luhan thought it was,” Sehun returned. “He told me all about it. What the hell were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking?” Xiumin asked in disbelief. “Nothing that I’m sure you haven’t thought about.”

That was a lie. There were all kinds of conflicting, scary feelings in Sehun, but never once had he thought about kissing Luhan. “You really upset him, you know.”

“I know,” Xiumin said, softening just a little. “But I had to take a chance. I had to try.”

“You had to try while he’s pregnant and going through the most complicated and stressful time of his life?”

Shooting him one more angry look, Xiumin said, “Regardless of my feelings for Luhan, I have always been there for him as a friend. And if he’d returned my feelings, I was more than prepared to be the kind of father to his baby that you should have been from the start.”

“That you think I’m not going to be!” Sehun shouted back, voice rising. “And you’d better think twice about trying to fill his head with that bull. I admit, I made mistakes in the beginning. I was an and I still have issues I’m working through. But I made Luhan a promise to be there for him, and for our daughter, and I’m not going to break my word. You trying to tell him otherwise is only hurting him.”

Xiumin challenged, “Because you know him so well? You think that one roll through the sheets and a couple of months of hanging around means that you know Luhan? You think you know what he needs?”

“I know he needs support, not doubt,” Sehun said.

Xiumin arched an eyebrow. “What Luhan needs is a father to his baby who isn’t a walking train wreck. And that’s what you are. Don’t pretend otherwise, and don’t think that I don’t know. You need therapy. You need to get yourself straightened out. You don’t need to be making promises to Luhan that you probably can’t keep. Me telling you this has nothing to do with how I feel about this. This has everything to do with me seeing the kind of things his parents have put him through, and then what you put him through. He doesn’t deserve broken promises. He deserves better, even from you. Especially from you.”

This was Luhan’s best friend, Sehun reminded himself. He couldn’t lose his temper. He couldn’t explode like a child or swing or do anything that might cause Luhan to blame him or be disappointed in him.

“I am human,” Sehun settled for saying, locking eyes with Xiumin. “I am a human being who lost his husband and the baby that he’d been desperately in love with. I am afraid to care, I am afraid to live, and I am afraid to be someone Luhan relies on. I’m scared that I’ll look at my baby with Luhan and not feel anything, or try and compare this baby to the one that died. I’m scared of so many damn things and you have no right to judge me. But I am not a hopeless cause. Other people believe in me, Luhan included, and I’m starting to believe in myself.”

“I don’t want you to break Luhan’s heart,” Xiumin said, finally sounding less angry. “Even if I don’t get to have it, I don’t want you to break it.”

Sehun said, “I don’t know what you want from me. It would be a lie for me to guarantee you that there isn’t a chance my fears might get the worst of me. I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect or that Luhan and I won’t fight or have issues. But I understand that you’re his best friend, and you only want what’s best for him. So I’m going to tell you this once and only once. I will never deliberately do anything to hurt Luhan. I will never deliberately not be a father to our baby. And I will never deliberately run away. I’m here to stay. I am going to try. I am going to be in Luhan’s life and I am going to be in my daughter’s. If that isn’t something you can accept, then you need to rethink your place in Luhan’s life.”

“We got by just fine without you. When you inevitably leave, we’ll get by again.”

Sehun shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. Get over the idea.”

“I’m not stupid,” Xiumin said lowly. “I see the way you look at him. You’re not the only one who sees things. You may not admit it, but you’ve got feelings for him. And that’s going to be what messes things up. I’d bet anything on it.”

“You’ll get out of my car now,” Sehun said, air catching in his chest. Just how damn obvious was it what Luhan was starting to burrow his way into Sehun’s heart?

“Fine.” Xiumin threw open the car door.

Sehun told his retreating form, “You’d better be there tomorrow.”

Xiumin gave pause. “So I can enjoy your wonderful company with a fake smile on my face and the urge to get sick all over you?”

Sehun started the car. “No. Because you’re Luhan’s best friend, even if things are weird between the two of you there, it’s where you belong. Because regardless of whatever Luhan and I are to each other, you’re always going to be one of the most important people in the world to Luhan. And because he wants you there. So don’t let him down. Show up, put that fake smile on your face, and deal with it. Unless that friendship doesn’t mean anything to you.”

Xiumin gave no reply, and instead simply slammed the car door and stalked off down the street.

Unsure if they’d done anything but bait and snap at each other, Sehun watched him go. But Xiumin’s words stayed with him. He was a mess. No matter how hard he tried, he was broken and in need of repair.

Maybe … maybe therapy wasn’t such a bad idea. Luhan could handle him in pieces, but their daughter deserved a father who was whole and capable. Therapy was something to consider.

And in fact it was still on his mind the next day when he showed up to pick Luhan up. He couldn’t help asking, valuing Luhan’s opinion, “What would you say if I told you I was considering therapy?”

“You know I was just kidding yesterday when I said you needed it, right?”

“Maybe not,” Sehun said. “Do you think it’s a horrible idea?”

Luhan’s fingers brushed along his forearms, down to his wrist in a move that was starting to become so familiar. And welcomed.

“I think if it’s something you want to do, or feel you have to, I’ll support you.”

For just a second Sehun felt invincible, and utterly in love.

The unsettling notion stayed with him for hours.