Luhan couldn’t remember the first time he met Minseok.

His first memories were mostly a blur or places, events, and faces.  One of those faces was Minseok’s.  They’d grown up together running around their tiny, run-down village, playing hide-and-seek in the stables where Luhan’s father worked.  Minseok’s father had chuckled once that they’d given him a scare when he’d first found the two of them playing at the factory where he worked, Luhan clinging to his new playmate and Minseok squealing indignantly though obviously thrilled at finding a friend.

That was apparently where they’d first met, in an off-limits factory where even adults were at high risk.  Minseok didn’t remember either, how they’d met and snuck into the factory in the first place.  They never went there again; Minseok didn’t want to worry his father, something Luhan understood.  It didn’t matter anyway, because from then on, the two were inseparable.  They went everywhere together, did everything together, and even as children neither ever got tired or bored with the other.  It didn’t matter to Minseok that Luhan was a foreigner, and it never even occurred to Luhan to care that Minseok was of an even lower working class than he and his family were.  

They did find a place to themselves, a hill next to an empty, abandoned lot a short distance outside the town.  In a world where technology grew but nobility still ruled, the working class barely had any time to entertain themselves, and that included Minseok and Luhan as they grew older.  The hill was the only place where they could find time to themselves, or with each other.  The factory was off-limits, and the stables had become Luhan’s workplace.  The duke had his servants keep a close eye on each other to make sure none of them were “loitering”, a phrase which, to Luhan’s annoyance, included corresponding with the factory worker’s son.  Minseok was busy juggling other jobs to help earn money for his own family as well as night school and would probably not have been able to “loiter” around the stables anyway, but that didn’t stop Luhan from being incredibly dramatic about it.

On the days when they both had a day off, the two would be found at what Luhan called their hill, with Minseok studying for night school and Luhan whining to him about his oppressive employer.  Normally, Luhan wasn’t one to complain; he was known for being quiet and hard-working, and always looked out for others.  Despite this, he whined to Minseok, because he knew Minseok would laugh at him for it, and when Minseok laughed with his wide gummy smile and his eyes and nose all cutely scrunched up Luhan felt as if nothing could make him happier, and his heart would swell until it felt like it could fit the entire universe.

    It was on one of these days that Luhan first told Minseok he loved him, but he’d done it in a way that made it seem brotherly, with his arms wrapped around Minseok from behind and his chin nestled in the other boy’s shoulder.  Minseok had given him a soft smile and said he loved him back, and Luhan was happy, even if he knew Minseok didn’t mean it the way Luhan meant it.  Because Luhan knew, perhaps he’d always known, that his feelings regarding Minseok had long ceased to be simply friendly.  There were times, too many times, when he would look at Minseok and think how beautiful he was, and how much he wanted to kiss him and hold him and never let go, and the thought of someone taking that away from him made his throat tighten and his chest hurt.  

    He kept those feelings to himself for a while, because he scared to ruin what they already had, and terrified of losing Minseok.  After some time, however, Luhan found he couldn’t keep silent, because the only way he knew to be with Minseok was straightforward and honest, and he knew Minseok could tell something was wrong, even though the other boy didn’t ask about it.  Luhan was a terrible liar, but he hated lying to Minseok the most, and keeping silent was the same as lying in his eyes.  

    It was raining the day Luhan told him when they’d been lying around in Luhan’s room. It was too wet for any sane person to want to go for a ride, and nobody wanted to work in this weather, so both had had the day off.  They’d both been lying next to each other on the bed, Minseok studying and Luhan listening to the sound of rain hitting the cement outside, when Luhan finally mustered his courage and sat up.  “Minseok?”

    “Hm?”  Minseok’s eyes stayed fixed on the page before him.

    Luhan’s heart was hammering into his ribcage and his throat was dry, but he made himself say it.  It was now or never.  “I love you.”

    Minseok’s hand stopped in the middle of turning a page, and his gaze lifted to Luhan as he caught on to his tone.  “I love you too...are you okay?”  

    “No--I mean--you don’t mean it the way I do.  When I say I love you, I mean.”  The words left him in a rush, and so did his breath when he saw Minseok’s eyes widen in realization.  Of course Minseok understood.  They never needed many words to communicate with each other.  God, he was going to get thrown out and then he’d get his clothes wet, why didn’t he bring his umbrella--why wasn’t Minseok saying anything--

    “How do you know?”

    Luhan stared at Minseok and said the most intelligent thing ever: “Huh?”

    Minseok was looking like he was trying not to smile, and Luhan suddenly felt the urge both to kiss him and to hit him over the head with that stupid Chemistry book.  How the hell could someone feel so many conflicting things at once?  “Well, how do you know I don’t mean it the way you do?  Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”   

    “I--well--” Luhan could feel his face burning hotter than a tomato in a frying pan and he inwardly cursed.  He’s usually the one to embarrass Minseok, not the other way around.  “I thought--your mom thinks relationships like that are ‘unnatural’, and you don’t like talking about it, so…”  Minseok’s mother was one of those devout Christians.  She was a good mother, always concerned for her children, but her idea of how they should be and how they really were turned out to be very different, and she’d had a harder time reconciling with that than Minseok’s father.  She hated Luhan.  Every time she’d seen him and Minseok together, her face had twisted like she’d just tasted something sour.  

“So you just assumed that I meant I felt the same?”  Minseok had an odd expression on his face.

“That might have had something to do with it,” Luhan admits, picking threads off his bed cover.  

There was a silence before Luhan heard a sigh and looked up to find Minseok watching him with a bemused smile.  “You’re an idiot.”

Luhan didn’t refute that because he was grinning like an lovesick, hopeless idiot as he felt hope soar in his chest.  “So that means you do love me back?”  

Minseok reached up and brushed Luhan’s hair away from his eyes, his lips curled in a smile that Luhan knew meant that he was so so happy but trying not to show it.  “Yeah.  I love you.  You’ve always done so much for me, and you’re the only person I could ever--” He stopped and looked a little shy, which did nothing to help Luhan’s incredibly gargantuan urge to kiss him.  “Well, just remember this has to be secret, okay?”  

Ordinarily Luhan would have been a little worried about the future, but Minseok was smiling at him and everything was beautiful, so for now he responded with, “Absolutely,” and their first kiss was so deep that Luhan would’ve drowned himself in Minseok if he could.  

Maybe he couldn’t remember their first meeting, but Luhan would always remember their first kiss.

……………………………………..

Their first tragedy came four years later, just after Minseok turned nineteen.

(All couples have troubles, but this was too important to be called a simple trouble, and of too much emotional magnitude to even call a tragedy.  Tragedies happened in stories, plays.  Tragedies were sad events people called when they weren’t affected by them.  There wasn’t a word to describe the death of someone you loved and who had been there your whole life.  But since there was a word needed, people called it “tragedy”.)  

Minseok’s father died in a factory accident.  He’d fallen from atop a huge machine and hit his head dying instantly.  The family was paid for their loss, but it was not nearly enough to last.  To top it off, Minseok’s mother became bedridden with illness soon after, leaving the three siblings to fend for themselves.  

Minseok didn’t cry at the funeral.  He didn’t respond to any attempts to make conversation, but even though Minseok usually avoided physical intimacy of any kind in public with Luhan, he let Luhan quietly take his hand as he stared blankly at his father’s coffin.  

After the funeral, Luhan didn’t see Minseok for weeks.  The death of one factory worker didn’t stop the rest of the world from continuing on its own course, and Luhan’s own job of personal attendant was more time-consuming than one would think.  Luhan was also aware that the Kims’ financial situation was now in worse jeopardy than before, and Minseok, along with his siblings, would be even busier trying to find work and money to support their family.  Still, it might be a bit of a stretch to completely drop all contact with your boyfriend for a month.  So when Luhan next saw Minseok at a dance where he’d been attending the Duke, he wasn’t sure if he was more happy or or angry.  

“You haven’t talked to me in weeks,” Luhan berated him.  He’d managed to drag Minseok outside with the phrase 'We need to talk', ignoring Minseok’s protest that he was working.  “Not a single text or phone call to let me know you haven’t ceased to exist.  I went to your house and nobody was there, it was like you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.  Do you know how ing worried I was?”  Luhan’s voice was rising, his face was flushed, and Minseok was staring at him.  Luhan wasn’t sure what to do himself.  He’d spent so much time the last few weeks worrying himself sick that he hadn’t even realized he was so angry until he’d seen Minseok at the ballroom, looking perfectly fine.  

“I--I’m sorry.” Minseok’s voice was quiet, and he swung his feet like a child from the stairs railing he was perched on, his shoulders hunched.  “I know that sounds very lame, but I actually haven’t had a way of contacting you.  We weren’t able to pay for phone service for a while, and I was so busy looking for a job I didn’t have any time to find you and tell you, and then we moved and...well, I found a job.”  Luhan blinked at him and he shrugged.  “It’s kind of like yours, actually.  I’m a stable boy for a duchess.”  

There was a silence as Luhan processed that information.  “That wasn’t all, though, was it?”  Luhan studied Minseok, who looked startled.  “You did find a job, and that’s why you moved.  That was a while back.  You could’ve gone to find me but you didn’t...it’s because of your father isn’t it?”  

Minseok stared at him. “Well--I--” He laughed, sounding breathless, and even though it was dark, Luhan could tell he was close to tears.  “I was going to say you’re wrong, but I just realized it’s true.  How did you know?”

Luhan reached out and threaded his fingers in Minseok’s hair, giving his head a playful tug and pulling him closer, and just like that Luhan wasn’t angry anymore.  “Maybe I know you better than you think I do Minseokkie.  I’m only, you know, the love of your life.  My passion for you,” he declared in his usual, over-dramatic way, “is eternal, just like the moon--”

“Alright, I get it, shut up already.”  Minseok’s face was pressed into his shoulder, and Luhan could practically feel it burning.  He smirked and wrapped his arms tightly around Minseok.  

“You know,”  Luhan started, as a thought occurred to him, “you actually missed my birthday!  You are a horrible boyfriend, you’d better get me something big to make up for that…” he grinned at Minseok suggestively, and received a very painful punch in the stomach in return.

 “I missed you too, Luhan,” Minseok grumbled, and despite his throbbing abdomen, Luhan laughed.  

…………………………………………….

The second tragedy came with a wedding.  It wasn’t theirs.

It wasn’t theirs because of a duchess who had taken a very persistent liking to Minseok and had offered to support his family and take care of his mother if he married her, the same duchess who had given Minseok his job as a stable boy, and who had, coincidentally, been the one who’d taken Minseok away from Luhan after his father’s funeral, albeit temporarily.  Luhan hated that duchess like he had never hated anyone else, because she’d made Minseok an offer he couldn’t refuse, one that would help his family live in the best possible conditions they could hope for for the rest of their lives, that would give his sister an education and his brother enough money to marry the girl he loved, and his mother the medicine and care she needed to be healthy.  And because Minseok was sweet and caring and compassionate in every way, he accepted that offer, and broke two hearts in the process.  

    Minseok had tried to explain, and even though Luhan knew it was for the best, knew that it was because Minseok was the beautiful, kind person he had fallen in love with that Minseok was throwing away his own happiness, it didn’t stop that cold, empty feeling inside, because Minseok had thrown away Luhan’s happiness as well.  He’d sat through Minseok’s explanation and watched Minseok falter as Luhan’s gaze on him, normally intense with warmth, slowly froze over.   

    The hardest blow came the last, and hit Luhan in the chest like a bullet.  

    “And she said--she said to cut off all contact with you.”  Minseok’s voice and hands were shaking violently, and he did not look at Luhan.  

    Luhan tried to feel surprised, but couldn’t.  It just hurt.  He swallowed thickly, his hands clenched around the edge of the bench they were both sitting on.  Apart from each other, like they would be from now on.  “So she knows.”

    He heard Minseok’s breath catch.  “Yeah,” he said after a moment of silence, where the air had felt heavier than Luhan thought oxygen should.  “I mean, we w-were always together.  I guess it wasn’t as secret as we thought--”

    He couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to leave before that urge to kiss Minseok and hold him and comfort him overwhelmed him, because Luhan knew this was hurting Minseok just as much as himself, maybe more--

Luhan stood up and Minseok’s head snapped up, staring at him, startled, his eyes filled with tears, and Luhan couldn’t help himself.  He leaned down and brushed his lips against Minseok’s.   It hurt more than anything to pull away, but he did, and he whispered, “I love you, you idiot,” before he was walking away down the sidewalk, the sound of Minseok crying following him, haunting him.  

He didn’t look back, but when he got home, he curled up on his bed and sobbed so loudly that it felt like his heart really would break in two.

………………………………….

    The third tragedy happened on a rainy day, a month later.  

    It was a typical head-on collision, they said, with the driver trying to pass a car in the other land and had therefore crashed into another car going the opposite way.  Neither driver had had time to react.  

    And just like that, Minseok was dead.  The impact had killed him instantly.

    Something in Luhan snapped upon hearing the news, and he went through his life in a sort of daze for the next few days.  There was no way that Minseok could be gone.  The world would not seem so normal and bright, the way it was and always had been when he and Minseok had still been together.  It couldn’t be.  So he didn’t cry and simply went about his life.  He went to the funeral, watched as Minseok’s family cried and the duchess looked sympathetic--only sympathetic, and a burning rage rose in him, combined with a savage sort of pleasure that now she could never have Minseok the way Luhan had.  Even when he saw the body--it was just that, a body, because that couldn’t be Minseok, lying so still, no, that wasn’t his Minseok--he couldn’t believe it.  He didn’t want to, but he suddenly felt sick and left soon after.

    Then one day, Luhan found himself going to the hill by the lot, their special place, because it had been a hard day at work and he wanted to tell Minseok about it--but Minseok wasn’t there.  He was there, but Minseok wasn’t.  And he knew why.  

    The pain hit him like a tidal wave, and he dropped to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth.  He suddenly felt as if he couldn’t breathe.  It felt as if the world was closing in around him, and someone was taking his lungs and squeezing them in a fist.  And then he was crying, because it hurt so badly, that Minseok would never be there for him ever again, that he would never be able to kiss him and tell him he loved him, that this one person who he couldn’t remember life without was now gone forever.  

The worst of it was that Luhan, who had been there for Minseok his entire life, hadn’t been there that last month before Minseok had gone, hadn’t been able to do anything when he died, and all because of a wedding that had never even happened and a duchess that didn’t even care enough about Minseok to give his family the support they needed after he was gone.  Luhan hated the duchess and himself and the whole world, and all the anger and grief and anguish boiled up inside of him until the conflicting emotions exploded, leaving him once again cold and empty like the remains of a firework on a rainy day, except this time the pain remained, harsh and sharp, and for the second time in his life Luhan felt like his heart had split in two.  

And so Luhan made a wish, that he could have another chance to be with Minseok, for them both to be happy together for the rest of their lives together, and he would do anything for that to happen, no matter what he had to go through.  He took that wish to his grave, and that wish was so intense it came true.