Oh Sehun is practically a household name in his high school. Famous for his sharp jaw and height (and according to some girls, his incredibly fluffy hair), his popularity amongst the sophomores is in the top 3, if not the top. He is known as the Uyu Couple’s Vanilla Milk – the other being his best friend Jongin, aka Chocolate Milk – which he finds disturbing at first whenever he hears the girls whisper about how they’d like to drink him up but after a while, it occurs to him that he’d like some Strawberry Milk please.

His best friend Jongin came up with the name for the pretty Chinese senior Sehun has had his eye on ever since he entered the school. Luhan is everything Sehun is not. It really isn’t a wonder that he’d have his own group of fan girls – he is so friendly and charismatic that people feel comfortable around him within a few minutes.

Unfortunately, he is not at all approachable. Flanked by his 3 best friends – Yifan, Yixing and Zitao – it is almost impossible to have a moment alone with Luhan.

Did Sehun mention that he’s a track athlete? The track star of the school actually.

This is why Oh Sehun, known to detest all activities that require him to perspire, gives up his weekly acts of faking illness during physical education class. Because on those particular days, Luhan happens to be running on the outskirts of the field with his own class.

“Close your mouth, ert. Your saliva’s about to drip out,” mocks Jongin as he plops his down next to him on the damp field grass.

Sehun chooses not to answer Jongin, his eyes too busy tracking the blond senior jogging effortlessly ahead of his classmates.

“When are you going to talk to him, pabo?” Jongin sighs, watching a different upperclassman some distance from Luhan. “Huh, some friend he is. He left the cute one behind to run with the crazy girls.”

Sehun’s eyes reluctantly pull away from Luhan to find the senior Jongin was talking about and rolls his eyes at Jongin. “When you talk to Yixing, I’ll talk to him,” he says snarkily but really, deep down Sehun wants to be able to hold a conversation beyond Hi too. He bets Luhan doesn’t even know who he is – he’s just too friendly not to return a greeting whenever Sehun waves at him stupidly.

He comes up with a superb plan the next morning and once all his classes ended, Sehun races walks briskly to the coach’s office.

“Hi, I would like to join the track team,” he announces brightly.

Three pairs of eyes stare at him as the coach introduces Sehun to the rest of the track team and only one of them does not look like he wants to roast Sehun like a Peking duck. That one pair belongs to Jongin’s own unrequited crush Yixing, who is, for some reason, smirking at Sehun.

Luhan chooses this moment to saunter into the locker room, pausing in confusion at his 3 Chinese friends until his eyes rest on Sehun and they widen ever so slightly.

“Hi!” the sophomore squeaks and grins, subconsciously panicking that his smile is possibly bordering on psychotic like the smile his friend Chanyeol often shows. “My name is Sehun. I’ll be joining the team today! Please look after me!”

He gives a deep bow, knocking onto Luhan’s shoe bag when he straightens. Sehun’s cheeks reddened at the sound of the two tallest Chinese chortling behind him.

Luhan offers Sehun a slightly amused smile. “Let’s get to practice,” he suggests.

If Sehun thinks that they’d go easy on him on the first day, he obviously thinks wrong. Little breaths of air leave his lips as he halts briefly on the track to clutch his waist, pouting as the Chinese boys ran further and further away in front of him.

Looking as if he regrets caving in to Sehun’s pleas to let him join the team, the coach glares at him while he jogs on the spot next to him and blows the whistle loudly in Sehun’s ear. “Move!”

Sehun whimpers and drags his feet, disgusted as a drop of perspiration runs down the side of his face into his shirt. God, he feels sticky and smelly and gross and Luhan hasn’t even looked at him a second time. Grimacing at the deafening sound of the whistle in his ear again, he reluctantly picks up his pace while he muttered complaints under his breath.

“Goddamned Chinese boys,” Sehun wheezes with a huff. “Are they all born Olympians?”

“I’m sure you have heard the school is organising a marathon,” the coach begins when the entire team finds themselves back at the locker room after an exhausting run (at least to Sehun, it is). “As members of the track team, we must take the top position. Luhan, I’m counting on you.”

A grin forms on Luhan’s lips as he stands up and jokingly bows to the rest of the team. The friend with the permanently dark circles (whom Sehun recognises now as his classmate Zitao) rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come out top,” Luhan says, “I’m eyeing the top prize.”

Yixing snorts. “You would. I’ve never seen someone as excited about a year’s supply of bubble tea as you.”

Luhan’s eyes crinkle happily and he his lips as if he is already thinking about sipping a tall cup of unhealthy milk tea. Sehun suddenly feels like he downed a thousand of those and the result of it is a heart attack.  

“Are you planning to join the marathon too?” Luhan directs the question to Sehun, causing him to choke on air as he nods automatically without using his brains.

“Of course! Watch it, maybe I’ll beat you,” Sehun boasts much to the amusement of his teammates who waste no time in competing who laughs the loudest. Luhan grins broadly and claps Sehun on the back.

“Kim Jongin, please kill me,” moans Sehun three days later as he drapes himself over his best friend and ignores the squeals of the girls seated behind them in the classroom. “Why did I challenge Luhan? How am I supposed to beat the school’s track star?”

Jongin actually contemplates the answer to Sehun’s question but his reply is no help at all. “Steal his shoes?”

Before Sehun can snap at Jongin for giving him a retarded suggestion, another voice interrupts them.

“Wow, I hope I misheard you,” Zitao says in stilted Korean, scrunching his face in disgust. “Because if you do anything to Luhan, I’m going to flatten your .” He shoots the Uyu Couple a glare and storms out of the classroom before Sehun can defend himself.

Sehun doesn’t realise he was gaping at Zitao until Jongin so kindly reaches over to close his mouth. The pale boy blinks back to reality and attacks his best friend with hard punches. “Look at what you did!” he screeches, attracting attention from the rest of the class. “Now he’s going to tattle on me and Luhan’s going to hate me!”

Jongin tries to dodge Sehun’s hits because for someone that looks as frail as him, those bony hands of his can really deliver a punch. “Ow, ow. How was I supposed to know he’d eavesdrop?” he sighs as the school bell rings to signal the end of school. “At most, I’ll run with you okay? With my strict training, maybe there’s a chance for you to win him.”

“Fine. Training starts now,” Sehun snaps, dragging a complaining Jongin to his feet and out the classroom to the toilets to change into their gym clothes.

In less than an hour, Sehun is beginning to regret his decision to let his best friend train him. He is convinced for the nth time that Jongin deliberately torturing him by making him run at an impossible pace next to him.

“Can we rest now,” he rasps, blindly reaching out to grab Jongin’s arm as perspiration ran down his forehead into his eyes. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Much to his relief, Jongin rolls his eyes and slows down to jog on the spot while Sehun comes to an abrupt stop, bent over to catch his breath. “You are such a loser,” he tells him. “At this rate, Luhan will never like you.”

Sehun is way too exhausted to deal with Jongin’s snark. His best friend’s comment hits a raw nerve and childishly, he shoves Jongin with the last ounce of strength he has and sends him crashing into an incoming runner.

At that moment, his mouth opens so big it can swallow a planet. “L-L-Luhan,” he stammers, watching in horror as the senior tumbles to the ground with his foot twisted in an interesting angle. Sehun drops to his knees in panic and stares at Luhan, whose face is scrunched up. “Are you hurt? Do you need help? Should I—?”

“YOU!” a voice bellows and before Sehun can process who that voice belongs to, he is pushed away hard. With those dark circles of his, Zitao looks even scarier glaring at him.

“I KNEW YOU’D SABOTAGE XIAOLU!” he yells, ignoring Luhan’s feeble attempts to silence him. Zitao wraps an arm around Luhan’s waist to help him up, flinching as the senior whimpered in pain. Firing another scowl at Sehun, Zitao leads the injured Luhan away.

Sehun bites his lip anxiously and buries his head into his hands. Way to make an impression.

Sehun shuffles his feet awkwardly at the hallway with 2 cups of bubble tea and forces a weak smile on his lips when the door opens to reveal a surprised Luhan. His eyes fall to Luhan’s bandaged foot and the smile disappears.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out quickly. “I swear I wasn’t sabotaging you. Jongin was being an and I just wanted to whack him. I didn’t mean to injure you. This is all my fault. Don’thatemeplease.” He holds up a cup of bubble tea and s it into Luhan’s hands, marvelling at how the senior’s eyes light up at the sight of it.

Luhan takes a huge slurp of bubble tea before he moves to let Sehun in. The sophomore immediately offers his hand to help him to the couch, discreetly looking around the apartment for Luhan’s parents. 

“Nobody’s home,” Luhan says in amusement. Sehun blushes a little when he realises Luhan is watching him. “I don’t blame you for my ankle. Things happen.” He tilts his head curiously. “How did you know I live here?”

“I’m not a stalker,” Sehun replies instantly, his face warming to an interesting shade of pink.  “Yixing hyung told me.”

Funnily enough, he notices the tips of Luhan’s ears reddening too. It must be the room. It is too hot in here.

“Um. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Sehun asks softly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he sips as quietly as he can on his own bubble tea.

The Chinese boy pauses as he contemplates Sehun’s question. The smile that blossoms on his face was so ridiculously bright that it momentarily blinds Sehun.

“Why don’t you win the marathon for me?” suggests Luhan. It takes Sehun a minute to realise, after he has nodded, what he is promising his ultimate crush. An ultimate failure, and an ultimate rejection in the future.

“I’ll do my best,” he mumbles, and swallows hard.

The next few weeks leading up to the marathon has Sehun spending more and more time with Luhan. The senior, although banned from running for a while, has taken training Sehun as one of his life missions. Sehun dares not complain like he does with Jongin when his trainer is being tough on him because heck, he’d fly to the moon if Luhan asks.

But seriously. He cannot control his shuddering each time his gym shirt sticks to his body due to perspiration. It is a wonder how Luhan can stand the smell of him after a run when he can barely tolerate his own stench.

Luhan is having a heated argument with Zitao in Mandarin when Sehun steps out of the shower smelling like the strawberries in the shampoo he borrowed from Luhan. Both stop at the sight of the sophomore.

Sehun tries to make himself as small as possible as he packs his bag in his locker. Only when he hears the slamming of a locker door and footsteps going away that he looks up at the embarrassed smile on Luhan’s face.

“Ready for the big run tomorrow?” Luhan asks lightly.

He nods distractedly. “Is Zitao mad at me?”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just being a big baby,” the senior replies and playfully tugs at Sehun’s wrist. “Come on, I’ll buy you bubble tea as a form of support. Remember me when you win!”

On the fateful morning of the marathon, Sehun trudges to school with barely opened eyes. He hasn’t been able to sleep much; instead he tossed and turned the night away when he was supposed to be in dreamland.

“What did I do in my previous life to deserve such torture,” he moans under his breath. Being in school on a Saturday… he must have offended some God. Sehun rubs his eyes tiredly and promptly bounces off a sturdy figure standing in front of him.

Curses die in his throat when he glances at the offending person and sees that it is Zitao.

The latter frowns at him as if he has not expected Sehun to show up at all and mutters unrecognisable phrases under his breath. Sehun gulps nervously. He isn’t doing dark magic on him or something right?

Before he can think up of an intelligent reply, slim arms wrap around his waist in a back hug. “Good luck,” Luhan says teasingly into his ear, the move clearly meant to annoy Zitao whose facial expression turns even darker. Sehun experiences a fleeting heart attack as he tries not to lean back into Luhan’s hug, his face as red as a tomato at the skinship.

Of course, all good things must end. His death sentence is announced over the school’s PA system.

“All runners, please proceed to the starting line.”

Sehun’s lips twist into what he hopes is a smile for Luhan. “See you later.”

As luck will have it, he winds up standing next to Zitao. Sehun tries to wish his classmate good luck too but is only met with an unhappy growl. He doesn’t get to dwell on it much because the gun sounds off the next second and people behind him are pushing at him to go forward.

All for Luhan, he thinks and in a deep breath as he recalls the lessons Luhan give him.

For the first 6 kilometres, Sehun keeps jogging at a steady pace, allowing the other runners to overtake him while inwardly squelching his panic at how fast some of them are.

He increases his speed at the 7th kilometre, his panic giving way to genuine astonishment at how many exhausted people he passes by. His shirt by now is wet to the point that it takes up the shape of his torso and his towel is practically useless in wiping off any perspiration because of how damp it is.

By the 9th kilometre, Sehun is ready to give up. His legs are aching, his back is aching and he is pretty sure his head is starting to ache too. He is so dizzy he wants to pass out.

“Go, Sehun!”

Trust Luhan to yell out at the right time.

Gritting his teeth, Sehun wipes his forehead with his wrist and picks up the pace. Almost… there…

The ribbon at the finish line comes into his sight. Ignoring the way his sore muscles seem to cry out, Sehun sprints the last few hundred metres. Yes, there isn’t anyone in front of him. He can win this! He will win this and Luhan will marry him and they will live happily ever after –

Crap!

His face meets the pavement just as he is five steps away from victory. The deafening cheers around him tell Sehun that someone else has crossed the finish line. Burning with humiliation at his stupid fall, he picks himself up and stumbles across the line… into a hug.

“Congratulations!” Luhan says happily, not at all bothered by how sticky sophomore is.

Sehun hides the disappointment on his face by burying his head into Luhan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I lost,” he sniffles, hands at his sides because he doesn’t feel worthy enough to hug him. “I didn’t keep my promise.”

Luhan pulls away at the tone of his words and frowns at him. “Hey – second place is no easy feat for a beginner,” he chides lightly and ruffles Sehun’s hair. “You’re a winner to me.”

“I didn’t get your bubble tea.”

A mischievous smile forms on Luhan’s lips as he looks at the poster of prizes behind Sehun. “Lately I’ve been craving the second prize a lot,” he admits nonchalantly. 

Oh? Sehun looks at him doubtfully and turns to check out what the second prize is.

“Milk?” he starts to ask in confusion when Luhan presses his lips against his in a slow, long kiss. His eyes widen in shock at the public display of affection.

“Mhmm. Milk,” Luhan confirms cheekily before he straightens his facial expression with an almost shy smile. “Vanilla milk in particular.”

Sehun’s mouth opens and closes in rapid succession, making him look very much like a goldfish. “Guh,” he says cleverly. Of all times, his brain chooses not to function. At least his heart does. He leans in in response and enthusiastically covers Luhan’s mouth with his own.

“Did you just have strawberry milk?”

"… Jongin made me drink a carton of it."

A/N: Who wants to see a KaiXing one-shot in this verse? xD