PROLOGUE



Luhan's head hung low as he sat on the edge of Sehun's California King Bed. His fingers wrapped around the airy, linen fabric of the sheets, and his mind wandered. This was the third night that he spent entangled in those sheets, wrapped in the other's tight embrace. Shame intermingled with passion when their lips and bodies touched. How can one loathe the very thing that brings one pleasure? Up to this point, such a question remained unanswered and only left him feeling belittled and unfulfilled.

He could still feel the warmth of Sehun’s breath up against his neck as he whispered lustful words of affirmation in his ear. His sentences remained unhitched like tattered fabric hanging by a single thread. That incessant stream of murmurs and low groans sent shivers like chilled ripples through Luhan’s spine. He would close his eyes and pretend not to feel the other’s nails clawing deep into his hips as he hard. It was futile to complain or beg him to stop. The pleasure that was pain had already consumed him, so once the tears stopped falling, tenderness took its place. The presence of Sehun’s lips would feel like velvet against the crescent-shaped markings on Luhan’s thighs. The other’s fingertips would glide effortlessly along the smooth surface of his ivory skin, tiptoeing over the dip in his back; and for a second, Luhan would feel loved.

“Luhan…hyung.” Sehun’s voice pulled him from his catatonic state.

He turned his head slowly in the other’s direction, his lips slightly parted in an effort to speak.

“You’re not leaving wearing that, are you?” Sehun commented on his previously-worn attire from the night before.

“Well, what else am I supposed to—”

Before Luhan could utter another word, Sehun quickly interjected with a hand gesture and furrowed brows.

“Just grab one of my suits from the closet and change."

As Sehun dressed himself and adjusted his jacket lapels in front of his full length mirror, Luhan peeled himself from the bed. He didn't so much as shoot a sharp side-eye in Sehun's direction, even though his conscience was telling him otherwise.

"Hurry up! We're going to be late!" Sehun yelled from the bedroom fastening his cuff links.

Luhan didn't have the energy or the desire to argue with him this morning. All he wanted to do was get dressed and get out of his house as quickly as possible while he still had a shred of dignity left. Even the gentle massage of warm, water droplets wasn't quieting the storm in his head. Though he had already washed his body several times, he just couldn't get rid of the invisible layer of filth that clung to his skin. In that moment, it was as if everything around him had grown silent and become a blur. Sehun's yelling and complaining didn't seem to register. 

Once Luhan got out of the shower, everything after that was routine. He ran the Egyptian cotton towel over his body, drying every part of it. With a smaller wash cloth, he wrung the water out of his hair and smoothed it back with his fingers. Any man, or woman for that matter, would love to be in Sehun's clothes smelling his Polo cologne except Luhan. He hated that scent. The expensive threads felt like a scratchy, wool sweater against his skin the more and more Sehun aggravated him.

"Hurry up!”

"I'm ready." He interrupted Sehun's rant from the bathroom doorway.

"It's about time. You’re going to make us late." Sehun replied growing impatient.

Luhan’s default ringer sounded on the other side of the room interrupting their habitual, petty argument. Usually, he knew who was calling just by that sound alone, but this time was different. As he reached for his phone, he hesitated to answer the early morning call. He prayed that it wasn't a pesky bill collector trying to reach him. Though he was still rather reluctant to answer, Luhan slid his finger across the screen and held it up to his ear.

"Hello...yes this is Lu Han speaking, may I ask who's calling?" he spoke into the receiver.

Just then, his body grew cold as he recognized the voice on the other end. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as she spoke to him.

"It would mean so much if you came." her crying muffled her speech.

Tears welled in Luhan's eyes as the devastating news slowly began to cripple him. He couldn’t dare cry, not in front of Sehun, and risk the slew of judgment heading in his direction. Even as he bit the corner of his lip to suppress his tears, they continued to cascade down his cheeks.

"What's wrong with you?" Sehun asked giving the other a strange look.

"Hyunsoo...he's dead."

"What? You're a liar!" he shouted at Luhan.

"I couldn't make this up even if I wanted to." Luhan tried his hardest to choke back his tears.

Sehun instantly crumbled, sliding down the wall to the ground. He pulled his knees up to his chest and cried into his hands. Even though Sehun wasn't the nicest man in the world, Luhan still couldn't help but want to be near him. He sat down beside Sehun and wrapped his arms around him, planting gentle kisses on his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"I can't believe that he's gone..."

Restlessness and stress dwelled in the bags below Minseok’s eyes. He spent another morning going over the financial statements for OHS Pharmaceuticals while drowning his system with cheap Folger’s coffee. From the breakfast table, he could hear his boyfriend’s grumbling and complaints. It was likely that he encountered more problems at work. This only fueled Minseok’s guilt as he prepared paperwork for Jongdae’s competitor. He was well aware of how the other felt about him taking the position, but Jongdae would never deny him of the opportunity. No matter how much residual anger that he had toward Oh Sehun, he would never take said frustration out on Minseok. At least that’s what he hoped was the case.

“Have we received the results from the clinical testing yet?” Jongdae inquired massaging the tense muscles in his forehead.

Minseok grabbed a glass mug from the cupboard and poured the other a cup of coffee. He silently placed it in front of him and went to the refrigerator in search of some food to prepare a small breakfast. He figured that it was the least he could do to make Jongdae’s day run much smoother. He had plenty of time to review his paperwork before he went into the office. Knowing his boss, Minseok was certain that he had an extra half hour to prepare.

“What’s the delay?” Jongdae’s voice raised a few decibels. “It was my understanding that the results would be ready for today’s conference. Now we have to push the deadline forward yet again. Are you aware of how much that is going to cost me?”

Minseok let out a soft sigh as he scrambled some egg whites in a pan. He hated seeing his boyfriend under so much pressure. It only filled their home with thorns and thistles. As much as Minseok wanted to comfort him, he knew that his efforts would only escalate into an unnecessary argument. He didn’t want to leave with that kind of tension stifling the air.

“Listen to me. I don’t care what you have to do.” Jongdae’s self-assured tone turned into shouting. “Put in a rush order on those results. I want them on my desk in an hour, got it!”

Just as he hung up the phone with a fierce tap to his screen, Minseok slid a plate of wheat toast, scrambled egg whites, turkey sausage and fresh sliced melon in front of him. He knelt down and planted a gentle kiss on Jongdae’s cheek. The delicate finesse that Minseok used to plate the food brought a smile to the other’s face. Though he didn’t express his sentiments in words, Minseok felt his gratitude.

“I figured that you needed some brain food to start your day.” Minseok expressed with a sweet smile on his face. “Do you need some more coffee?”

Jongdae nodded with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. He handed his coffee mug to Minseok, and the other went in to the kitchen to refill it. As he sat it down on the counter, the telephone rang on the wall beside him. Minseok grabbed it with one hand while picking up the coffee pot with the other.

“Hello?” he answered wedging the telephone between his ear and shoulder.

“Minseok, it’s Luhan.”

He could tell by the tone of his friend’s voice that this call couldn’t be good. It was his hope that it had nothing to do with work. The last thing he needed was more of Sehun’s impulsive rationale and decision-making.

“Hey, what’s going on? You sound terrible.”

“Hyunsoo…” the other’s voice cracked. “He’s dead.”

Those words hit him right in the gut and yanked at his heart. He didn’t even feel the steaming hot coffee as the coffee pot slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor. He responded in the only way that he saw fit—with tears.

“What do you mean?” Minseok’s voice was barely comprehensible from all the tears that were being shed. “He can’t be dead. I…I just talked to him.”

Jongdae entered the kitchen after hearing the glass break. He tiptoed over the mess of coffee on the floor.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked looking at his teary-eyed boyfriend.

Minseok dropped the phone and ran to Jongdae, wrapping his arms around him. He fought to repeat the words that were told to him. It hurt far too much to come to terms with what was happening. He only wished that he could have gotten the chance to say good-bye. Minseok had to live with those last words.

“Take care of yourself, okay Minseok? Promise me.”

Jongin locked himself in the one place where he could find solace—the bathroom. Kyungsoo shouted his name aloud from the bottom of the stairs with a bowl of pancake batter in his hands. He was well-aware that the other was trying to tune him out with the sound of the shower. It didn’t surprise Kyungsoo that his boyfriend woke up in another one of his moods. Their conversations haven’t exactly taken on a light, mellow tone. If it wasn’t about how his next book was stressing him out, then it was about Kyungsoo’s business. Everything came to a feverish boil and spilled over the sides, creating one big mess.

It was a waste of time for Kyungsoo to argue with the other. His words would go through one ear and get lost in a sea of literature and imagery. Jongin preferred to barricade himself in the den with nothing but Brahms and his word processor. No one could get through to him when he was in that state, not even his boyfriend.

“Kim Jongin, if you’re not out of that bathroom in fifteen minutes, then I’m coming up there!” Kyungsoo yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

Jongin didn’t bother to indulge him with a response and continued to inhale the thick warmth coming from the steam. It took all the power in his body not to open the door and yell as loud as his vocal chords would allow. He knew exactly where that would land him. Kyungsoo would respond with cold, impenetrable silence, and he would have to be the bigger person and apologize. It would get him absolutely nowhere.

“I can’t stand it when he acts like this.” Kyungsoo voiced his distaste to himself. “He’s always so damn moody.”

Though Jongin had a logical reason for his melancholic disposition, Kyungsoo would never understand it. Bills would continue to pile up, and he would remain calm without a worry. Jongin’s veins bulged from the sides of his neck whenever a new notice came in the mail. He would always raise his voice and wag a flimsy piece of paper in Kyungsoo’s face. None of that worried the other at all. He always made sure that their home was taken care of, and that, Jongin couldn’t understand. It baffled him how everything could so easily be swept under the rug. Nothing ever bothered Kyungsoo, and that bothered him.

“Kim Jongin!” Kyungsoo shouted from the kitchen. “Get out of that damn bathroom!”

Jongin huffed and puffed gently wiping the perspiration from the mirror in front of him. He thought of all the nasty things that he wanted to say to his boyfriend and let it out in a hefty exhale. He slowly counted to ten before walking out of the bathroom.

“I’m out now! Are you happy!” he shouted until he felt tension in his throat.

Kyungsoo flagged off the other’s snappy response. He put all of his attention and lingering frustration into the grand breakfast that he was cooking. Even though they would be the only ones eating it, cooking was his method of meditation and resolve. He believed that food was a form of healing for the soul. No matter what battles one is encountering in their lives, a good meal can mend their wounds.

“These have got to be the best looking pancakes in the county.” Kyungsoo marveled at the light and fluffy short stacks on the platter. “You are too good, Kyungsoo.”

His moment of glory was cut short when his cell phone vibrated on the counter top. He wiped his hands on his apron and answered the call.

“Hello?”

The smile slowly faded from his face as he received the terrible news. He sat down on the bar stool and his shoulders sunk in. He covered his mouth to keep the sound of his hyperventilating muffled. It hurt to breathe, and he didn’t have the words to express what he was feeling. Instead, he sat in silence as tears fell from his eyes.

“What’s the rush?” Jongin grumbled as he entered the kitchen. “I h