So they’ve finally made it to the semifinals for the first time in three years. This could be it - tonight could seal their shot at the cup. Everyone’s on edge, it’s fifteen minutes to kick-off, and where the hell is Minseok?

Suho’s already spitting tacks at Chanyeol for accidentally smacking Baekhyun in the face during warm-up, and Luhan decides not to test his frayed nerves by pointing out that one of their strikers has gone missing; instead, he sneaks off into the locker room to search Minseok out himself.

Luhan pushes the door open and lets the hydraulic hinge catch it so that it closes soundlessly behind him as he peers into the corners of the room. He’s just opened his mouth to call out when he hears a noise. He stops, strains his ears, and there it is again: from the direction of the toilets, a sniff.

Maybe Baekhyun wasn’t the only one on the receiving end of Chanyeol’s windmill arms during warm-up; perhaps Minseok has a bleeding nose. Luhan sidles into the washroom to see if he’s okay.

He expects to see Minseok standing by the counter, perhaps pinching his nose into the sink or pulling paper towels to mop up the blood, but he’s not there. One stall door is closed, and now that he’s on this side of the lockers Luhan can hear a whispered litany coming from behind it.

“, , , what the do I do, oh my god no no no-”

“Minseok?”

Instant silence. The room is so still you could hear a pin drop. Luhan is about ninety-seven percent positive that Minseok is holding his breath.

After a long moment the lock squeaks open, and Minseok pulls the door ajar.

“Luhan?”

His one visible eye is wide and shining with tears.

“Are you okay?” Luhan wants to push the door open to check that he’s alright, but Minseok looks terrified and so Luhan keeps a careful three feet of space between them.

Minseok’s cheek trembles, and a small handful of tears shiver off his eyelashes.

“N- no.”

“What’s wrong? Do you need me to get someone? A medic? Suho?”

“No!” Minseok yanks the door a foot open, then catches himself and slams it shut again. His head falls forward and hits the wood with a dull thunk.

“Minseok-”

“I-”

There’s a moment of silence. Minseok sniffs again, clears his throat, and slowly opens the door.

“I got my period.”

“You- huh?”

Luhan’s brain takes a second to compute this. At first he thinks Minseok means some bull man-flu kind of thing and he’s about to tell him to pull himself together, but then he sees the dried blood on Minseok’s thighs, the skin there red as if Minseok has been scrubbing at it, the dark stain on his green shorts-

In the back of Luhan’s mind, it registers that Minseok always changes in the toilets after a game. In the year Minseok has been on the team, Luhan’s never seen him - not even shirtless. Minseok keeps a careful bubble around his body, and now Luhan realises why.

“Oh. .”

“I haven’t had it in almost two years,” Minseok whispers. “I thought I was done, I thought the T took care of all of that, I didn’t know it could come back-” he presses a fist over his mouth. Luhan sees the storm he’s holding in. He realises it’s on him to calm it.

“Hey.” He reaches out and clasps Minseok’s shoulder. “We can fix this, okay? Tell me what you need.”

Minseok makes a face at him like the situation is far more desperate than Luhan can possibly comprehend. “A tampon. A pad. Some clean underwear. A new kit. Luhan, I- this is a team of cis dudes, no-one’s gonna have-”

“I have a spare pair of shorts,” Luhan says. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve got a fresh pair of underwear - if not, I know Sehun does, because he was throwing them at Kyungsoo’s head earlier. I just need to find you a tampon and a pad.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ve still got nine minutes.”

He gives Minseok a smile he hopes is encouraging and jogs back out to the pitch.

He runs an eye over the team. Nope. None of them are going to be any help. Suho is still stress-yelling at Chanyeol, though, and no-one seems to have noticed Minseok’s or Luhan’s absence, so he figures he’s at least got a few minutes to find a solution before anyone realises they’re two players down.

Turning to look up at the crowd, he has an idea. With a glance towards the rest of the team to make sure no-one’s watching him, he makes a jump for it and hoists himself up over the railings and into the stands. Two rows back are a pair of young women, who are watching him with amusement and, Luhan notes, no small amount of awe. They look a little bit starstruck.

Luhan reminds himself that he has more important to do than his own ego.

“Ladies,” he croons, propping one foot up on the seat in front of them and summoning a smile that he hopes looks reasonably self-deprecating. “I’m hoping you might be able to help me out with something.”

“Oh my god,” one of them laughs. “Okay?”

“You see, I’ve lost a bet,” Luhan says. “And I have a rather embarrassing little treasure hunt to do as a result. I was wondering whether you might like to assist me.”

The girls’ only answer is a delirious giggle, but Luhan figures that’s an affirmative sort of response, so he presses on.

“I need a tampon.”

The giggles ratchet up a full three notches. One of the girls is now covering her face with both hands, and the other one is smothering her grin in the back of her wrist.

“And a pad,” Luhan adds. “Do you think you can help me?”

The girls’ voices seem to have totally disappeared into hysterical laughter, but one of them nods and s the purse on her lap.

“You’re an absolute star,” Luhan beams as she shoves two tampons and a pad at him. “Thank you, darling. I owe you one.”

She buries her face in her hands again, which Luhan takes to mean no problem, any time, good luck in the game! He vaults the railing and drops back down to the ground. Six minutes to go.

“Minseok!” Luhan’s cleats echo off the concrete as he clatters back into the washroom, sanitary items in one hand and underwear in the other. “Here you go.”

“Oh my god.” Minseok’s jaw drops as he opens the stall door. “You actually did it. Luhan, you’re incredible-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Luhan waves him off. “You… do what you need to do with that stuff. I’m just gonna grab my other shorts for you.”

By the time Luhan has extracted the spare kit from his bag, Minseok is washing his hands at the sink. He turns around when Luhan appears in the mirror behind him, his smile wide and grateful.

Luhan takes a moment to appreciate how damn good Minseok looks in his underwear, and then another to remind himself that this is five hundred percent not the time for that kind of realisation.

He hands the shorts to Minseok, who slips them on and pulls the drawstring tight to hold them up around his slim hips.

“Okay. I’m good.”

As Minseok is shoving his own wadded up shorts and underpants into his bag, the locker room door slams open and Tao whirls in.

“There you two are! What the hell are you doing?”

“Just had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction,” Luhan says. “It’s fine, we’re good now.”

“You’d better be! Come on, Coach is yelling at everyone.”

“We’ll be out in ten seconds,” Luhan assures him.

The door hisses shut behind Tao, and Luhan turns to Minseok.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Minseok beams up at him. “Luhan - thank you.”

“Hey.” Luhan pulls him into a hug. “Don’t sweat it, dude.” He steps back and claps a hand on Minseok’s shoulder. “Let’s go kick some , yeah?”

Minseok grins. “Hell yeah.”

He takes Luhan’s hand, and together they run out onto the pitch.

--

A/N: This story is really important to me, and I didn't realise as I was writing it just how hard it would be to set it free into the world. Thank you for reading it.

- JJY