Googling ‘ghost powers’ wasn’t how Minseok had imagined spending his rare free afternoon.

But here he is anyway, still hanging out in the SM building, because Lu Han keeps claiming he can’t step outside it. Very worrying news, if he ever wants to debut and perform on stages far away from the training building. So far Minseok has established that Lu Han can, in fact, sing and dance more than just well. Rap… not so much, but with his good looks included that would have been overkill. Lu Han hasn’t decided if he leans more towards singing or dancing and it annoys Minseok that he even has the option to choose. Minseok’s case is different. He can rap decently, dance decently and sing decently. He has decent looks. All this leaves Minseok wondering where his strength truly lies. He doesn’t have a honey-sounding voice like Jongdae or Kyungsoo nor can he dance as well as Jongin or Yixing. He can’t even spout words out of his mouth as fast as Chaneyol. And he’s not tall and handsome like Yifan. Most days Minseok feels like a lost cause, forgetting the fact that he’s not even that bad, he’s just… in need of some self-confidence. Badly.

Which is why he finds himself helping Lu Han first. Help others to help yourself or however the saying goes. Maybe this will give him good karma points and help him to be more confident with the high notes he knows he can do.

“These are basically all saying the same thing. That ghosts with a lot of anger and bitterness can throw stuff around. Honestly, that doesn’t sound like someone who stalks people in the showers…” Minseok sighs and turns off his smartphone. He’s spent a good two hours going through different sites and there isn’t really anything that’s helping. It isn’t a surprise. After all, ghosts don’t even really exist. Or at least they shouldn’t.

“I thought you forgave me already…” Lu Han rolls his eyes. “But yeah, doesn’t sound like me at all. Maybe I can channel my passion towards ManU to that stuff instead?”

“You can try. But I’m not showing you any more matches on my phone, the battery is almost dead”, Minseok reminds the ghost. His phone’s been dead a lot lately and the front page of Youtube now consists of nothing but videos of Ronaldo scoring and highlights of ManU’s latest matches. Minseok misses his Messi videos, but at the same time he understands Lu Han. It would to go for years without knowing how your favorite team is doing just because nobody in the SM building cares about football. Nobody aside from Minseok anyway.

Lu Han frowns at him but doesn’t demand to see anything. Minseok watches Lu Han’s face tighten as he begins to concentrate on something, probably thinking about ManU’s latest victory and trying to channel that thought into some kind of power. Minseok doesn’t know, he’s not the ghost here. Lu Han is staring at the bottle next to Minseok’s leg with intense eyes.

Nothing happens for a good five minutes.

“Are you… trying to do something?” Minseok finally opens his mouth to ask. It could be just Lu Han lost deep in thought. Usually it’s not hard to guess what Lu Han is thinking. He’s been taking more acting classes than Minseok, but the ghost has the kind of face that betrays his thoughts to others. It’s pretty endearing which means Minseok is never going to tell the other that.

“I’m trying to channel all my happy thoughts and move the damn bottle, but it’s not working”, Lu Han sighs, giving up and slumping against the wall. Half of his back goes through it and Minseok looks away.

“This is not Harry Potter - you’re not summoning your Patronus! Why would you need happy thoughts to move one bottle?” Rubbing his forehead Minseok slumps against the wall too. SM should provide classes for practicing ghost skills too. With a loud groan Lu Han completely slumps against the floor, so that only his legs are visible, upper body disappearing into the wall. Minseok secretly wishes he would stop those freaky antics. He doesn’t want extra reminders that Lu Han’s dead. He hears vague mumbling behind the wall and Lu Han’s probably forgotten again that Minseok can’t go through walls nor hear things through them as easily as his ghost acquaintance.

“Okay, how about this? Since I’m the only one who sees you, why don’t you try touching my hand first. Maybe I have some kind of hidden power that affects ghosts”, Minseok says to the wall and a second later Lu Han pushes himself out of it and up to his feet again. There’s no frown visible on his face anymore, it’s all smiles instead. For a dead guy he can be awfully optimistic. It reminds Minseok of Baekhyun and he’s not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. He can barely deal with one Baekhyun let alone two.

“That actually sounds plausible!” Lu Han claps his hands together. His fingers are a mess, sliding through each other. For once Minseok doesn’t look away but offers his hand instead.

“So… try touching my hand. Without yours going through it”, he tells Lu Han, readying himself for the prickling pain that is about to come. Maybe it’s his tense shoulders or the thin line his usually plump lips form, but Lu Han seems to notice what Minseok is feeling. He suddenly looks hesitant, hiding his hands behind his back, eyes not quite meeting Minseok’s. He looks cute and Minseok suddenly feels the need to swallow.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like you’re actually hurting me. It’s just a feeling. Besides, my body feels worse after every dance practice”, Minseok assures him, moving his hand closer to Lu Han. “Just try to concentrate on making yourself… more meaty and less transparent, okay?”

Slowly, Lu Han nods and puts his hand right above Minseok’s. He gathers his concentration once again and Minseok can’t do anything but wait. He tries to keep his mind and body relaxed in case it somehow helps (it probably doesn’t). Lu Han moves his hand a little closer and there can’t be more than two or three millimeters of space between their hands now. Minseok waits and feels a tiny lump gather at the base of his throat. He can feel the faint electricity prickling his skin. The feeling comes as waves from Lu Han’s hand. It doesn’t feel bad, as they are not touching yet, and it helps Minseok to relax a bit more. Then Lu Han decides he’s trying hard enough and surges his hand down the last millimeters.

It goes straight through Minseok’s hand and they both groan in disappointment and in pain.

Minseok recovers first, not wanting to make Lu Han upset, because he still doesn’t know how many steps it will take before he turns into a bitter ghost wanting to smash Minseok through the walls. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really expecting it to work right away.”

Lu Han’s face is still slightly sour but he seems ready for round two, putting his hand above Minseok’s hand again. Minseok watches him scrunch his pretty eyebrows together.

The result is still the same.

After ten more attempts and flying through the SM building once, Lu Han comes back looking as frustrated as ever.

“I hate being dead!” He whines, “I can’t even touch you. This ! Everything !”

Minseok attempts to calm him down and jokes, “Maybe it’s a good thing. I bet you’d be a clingy ghost if you managed to actually touch me.”

Lu Han gives him the evil eye. It seems the other isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Minseok swiftly changes tactics.

“Relax, we’ll get it to work eventually. Let’s focus on something else first.”

Lu Han blows a lonely strand of hair out of his eyes. “Like on what?”

“Like…” Minseok thinks. “Like… on your death. Maybe there are clues there. How did you die again? Or is this a touchy subject…?” He doesn’t know if ghosts like to talk about their deaths or not. He probably wouldn’t want to if he was dead. But then again, he’s not the ever-so-optimistic person Lu Han is. Ghost Minseok would probably be bitter and angry from the very start. And still trying to lose weight. Dying now would be terrible. He would be a slightly chubby ghost for the rest of time. Minseok makes a silent prayer of dying only when he weighs a little less. He wants to be a good-looking ghost like Lu Han is.

“That’s…” Lu Han starts, “that’s a really good question.”

Minseok doesn’t quite follow. “What do you mean?”

Lu Han looks at him, uncertainty settling on his face. “I mean, I have no idea how I died.”