Out of all situations Lu Han thought he’d be in, this was definitely not one of those – not even as a brief imagination, a sudden thought nor a weird dream. The idea of this notion, especially this position has never seemed possible enough to be even considered; he could always blame the alcohol, but he has always been a self-honest type and he knew better than deeming one can of beer can get anyone drunk, even if the said beer has a very small boost of vodka in it.

“I can make you forget about him.”

The small shudder the whisper causes diffuses in whole his body, starting from his right ear, where the small wind of sound caresses softly. He may not be intoxicated in any sorts, yet there is this unavoidable rush of blood which vodka is responsible of that begs his every cell to give into it, and with the way ethanol gets his brain to excrete the adrenaline a bit more than necessary, he finds a part of him agreeing to the self-confident statement.

That part of him isn’t his present conscious, though.

“N- No… I can’t…” He doesn’t understand why he suddenly starts stuttering or his hands are still standing clutched on the other man’s shirt, as if his senses and urges are conflicting. “I can’t forget him,” he finally manages to say, and he acknowledges this conclusion more when he feels something stinging in his chest. His pain is too fresh and deep, something graved too far inside him has been ripped off only a few hours ago and he needs more time than that to let it heal.

“You can’t forget someone who dumped you over some a so-called consultant said?” The following chuckle is too dark to ever believe it comes out of his best friend’s throat. “That’s pathetic.”

Despite the declaration, small but determined hands doesn’t let go of Lu Han’s body.

“But I can get you out of your misery. After all…” There is a touch of soft lips on the crook of his neck, making every justification and every sensation originated from anywhere but his skin lag behind, and Lu Han is disgraced by his loyalty for liking it. “…that’s what best friends do, right?”

“Minseok…” Lu Han breathes, holding on tightly to whatever is left from his slowly slipping rationality like a handful of sand. “I can’t do that to Zitao. I just… I can’t.” The last syllable is decreased into an insecure whisper, breaking the little image of confidence he has – if he ever had any in this very moment.

“You say that word way too often.” Minseok’s delicate looking fingers prove to be stronger with how easily they snatch the first few buttons on Lu Han’s dress shirt apart. “Allow me to remind you how Zitao could.”

It’s the way Minseok’s knee crawls between Lu Han’s obedient legs rather than his unpleasantly well-targeted words that breaks the latter’s whole self-control. He feels the satisfied smirk on his skin when Minseok nips on his now slightly exposed shoulder and finally gets a gratified hum from Lu Han’s throat as the Chinese male rolls his head back in delight, getting more and more sensitive to Minseok’s lips as they bite on his collarbone, right before trailing further down on the way the elder’s skillful fingers free out of the plastic buttons.

He’s aware it’s gone bit by bit with every moan he loses the control of, but the ghost of his still struggling pride doesn’t let him obey his instincts and keep him away from attacking the annoying fabric on Minseok’s body as he wishes to do; so instead, he absent-mindedly allows his friend to slide him further down on the leather couch, fracturing Zitao’s image on Lu Han’s eyelids more and more with every touch and replacing it with the clear picture of his almond eyes sparkling assertiveness and lust.

By the time Minseok s his pants and proceeds to save his throbbing need to get out of the prison he usually calls his boxers, his mind has already given up on his senses and now he’s pulling onto Minseok’s dark locks, impatient for the Korean’s lips on his , detesting every possibility that would require the latter’s skin to get a mere centimeter away from his.

Minseok chuckles again, more amused than before, and looks up at Lu Han with sparkling eyes and a gummy grin. “Don’t worry, Han.” His hand reaches out to trace a finger on Lu Han’s chin. “Forget about the time. We have it all.”

That won’t be necessary though. Lu Han has already forgotten everything.