We are the generation that will start a revolution
Just Close Your Eyes
August 25, 1959
"This isn’t a republican country anymore! We’re nothing but puppets under that bastard’s strings!"
At the shouted words, Minseok glances up from his seat on the worn couch. Tensions are escalating and he can almost feel the anger that rolls around the room. He shrinks further back into the cushions; it's not his place to say anything.
20-30 twenty year olds are scattered through the small room, the room they call a meeting board. There's enough room to squeeze in a couch, a table, and a pool table that's all been shoved to the side. But there's certainly not enough room to contain 20 sum university students, all riled up by the election news that the headlines of the angrily discarded newspaper displays.
SYNGMAN RHEE RUNS FOR FOURTH TERM
FIRST PRESIDENT OF REPUBLIC OF KOREA PUSHES FOR FOURTH TERM
It’s news to the students, it’s news to the entire country. The populace of Korea has taken to an angry buzz, many upset at the idea of the first president of Korea running for a fourth term. It’s not a secret, how once he was in office, he changed the constitution from allowing three consecutive terms to an unlimited amount of terms. Many were rightfully upset at the change, but it was not wise to howl too loudly.
"Ok, ok, but for now, we can't do much about it. It's getting late; we have classes tomorrow and we can discuss what actions we can take at the next meeting," his brother says, breaking the tension in the room.
Minseok tears his eyes away from his dimly lit book, eyes drawn to the strong back of his brother who holds the attention of the entire room. A quiet grumble runs through the room and Minseok hears a snatch of ‘who stuck a stick up his ?’ before a loud smack and a grunt answers his question.
“Go on, now. Class tomorrow. Jeong! I know you have that one economic class at 8 am so get yourself home before you miss it. With your grades, I know you can’t afford skipping.”
Joonmyun’s voice has a certain power over everyone who listens and the student in question is chuckling before jesting back, “Ok, mom! I’ll be sure to get home and will you come to sing me a song before I sleep?”
There’s a roll of laughter around the room and the younger just watches how his brother’s eyes wrinkle at the corner as he joins in the easy laughter. Joonmyun just makes a shooing hand motion and then there’s loud commotion as everyone gathers up their things and calls goodbyes across the room before disappearing into the darkening evening.
“Sorry that took so long,” his brother apologizes but Minseok gives him a soft smile and he knows that Minseok doesn’t really mind at all.
“Let’s go home, hyung,” is all that’s the younger answers and they grab their things before Joonmyun turns off all the lights and locks the door.
They make their way home as street lights flicker on and the bold headlines on newspapers are soon forgotten in favor of homework that needs to be done.
September 15, 1959
It’s the sound of shouting and fighting that catches Minseok’s attention. It’s something that’s not uncommon these days and he hesitates. With officers constantly prowling the city and tensions high amongst citizens, brawls constantly break out and if Minseok wants to keep his head on his neck, he’ll be smart enough to hunch down and continue walking.
But it doesn't look like a victory for common sense as he stop dead when he hears a panicked scream split the air.
“帮助*!”
It takes him a moment to realize that it’s not Korean and his meager knowledge of Chinese translates it as a cry for help. Before he knows it, Minseok’s legs are running and he rounds the corner.
There’s a boy that’s being beaten, beaten by men in police uniforms. He’s crying out in Chinese, and it just seems to egg on the officers, batons raining down on the Chinese boy.
Minseok’s rigid, his eyes wide and legs stuck. A shout comes from around the corner and a few officers pause, spit, and run to the man who had shouted until there are only 2 left who seem bent on killing the boy. Minseok begins to turn away, his better judgement screaming at him to run before the officers see him, but then the boy opens an eye and looks straight at Minseok. His lips mouth around the word “帮助” and he can’t turn away from the scene. Morals battle against self preservation but the battle is decided before it even begins.
Minseok grabs at the nearest solid item, a wooden crate, and he hears a “Stop!” ring out. He’s running and lifting the crate above his head before he registers that he’s the one who had shouted.
The officers turn at the shout and Minseok bashes the crate down on the both of them and they stumble. They rear towards him, curses spewing out, and Minseok swings the crate at both their heads. They both flinch away from his wide swing, taking a few steps back.
Adrenaline is coursing through his veins as he keeps swinging at the pair screaming bloody murder. Minseok has no idea what he’s doing but he sees that he’s close enough to the beaten boy before he tosses the crate with a heavy grunt at the two officers.
“Run!” he shouts at the boy, grabbing his arm and hoisting him up, and they dash for it. Minseok’s legs feel like jelly as he runs, runs, runs away from the men who chase them. They turn down alley after alley and the dirty walls touched with decay speed by them without Minseok really knowing where he’s going.
He hears from behind him, “Students! Stop, you little bastards!” Really, it just makes Minseok’s legs push him faster and he doesn’t even pause to look over his shoulder.
Eventually, the thuds of boots fall away, the boy behind him collapses and Minseok’s jerked back. His lungs are on fire as he drags in breath after breath. The beaten boy isn’t faring much better than Minseok, coughs interrupting heavy panting.
Minseok studies the baby faced boy, whose cheek is turning a violent shade of purple. The boy is on his hands and knees, coughs racking his entire frame, and he eventually sits back on his heels, bringing a hand up to swipe at his mouth. A thin line of blood follows from a cut lip and Minseok’s managed to gain enough breath to grunt out, “Are you ok?”
The Chinese boy looks up at him at his voice and he drags in a breath before answering in barely accented Korean, “Y-yeah.”
“You speak Korean,” is the first thing out of Minseok’s mouth and the boy’s lips quirk up to something resembling a smile.
“Yeah,” he says, pain leaking into his voice. Minseok sees a trickle of blood run down from his hairline and he scrambles for his bag that he’s somehow managed to keep a hold on. He pulls out a handkerchief and offers it the boy and gestures towards his forehead.
He takes the fabric with a grateful smile and winces as he places the handkerchief on the wound. Minseok’s staring at the way red blossoms on the white fabric before a quiet voice offers, “I’m Luhan.”
Minseok blinks, straightening up. “Kim Minseok,” he introduces and he tries to add a small smile.
The smile he gets in return is a thousand watts, dampened only by the grimace that twists his face. Now that Minseok gets a good look at his face, he can see that Luhan is handsome, a youthful look to his face. Underneath all the cuts that mar his pale skin, Luhan has large doe eyes and his jaw is all angles. His chest jolts as he realizes really how handsome the boy is. 美丽** is what comes to his mind.
Minseok’s study is interrupted when the other stands up, gingerly touching his arms which most likely sport their own bruises. “Thanks,” Luhan murmurs, “thanks for helping me.”
“欢迎您***,” Minseok stutters out and Luhan’s face is contorting into the most unattractive smile. Minseok hides his embarrassment by quickly adding, “Do you need help getting home?”
Luhan glances around him, at the abandoned buildings around him and squints at a faded sign. He hesitates as though deciding and finally says, “I, uh, don’t know the area too well, so…” Luhan trails off and draws his lower lip into his mouth before his cut lip objects at the action.
He chuckles at the sheepish expression on the Chinese boy’s face and asks, “Where do you live? I’ll lead you home.”
Luhan rattles off his address and Minseok draws a quick map in his head before he gestures in the correct direction. “Good thing I’m in the same direction,” he says to reassure Luhan that it’s not too much of a trouble, even though he actually lives the other way.
Minseok leads the way, occasionally stopping to check the road for any other people, and the pair fall into easy pratter.
“Luhan!” a deep voice laced with worry calls out, when Luhan opens the gate to his home and light spills out from the front door.
Luhan’s head snaps up and he barely makes out, “Wufa-,” before a tall man storms out of the house, fury etched on his face.
He grabs at Minseok’s dirty collar and he growls into his shocked face, “Did you do this to Luhan!”
Minseok’s mouth hangs open uselessly and Luhan paws at Wufan’s hands, Mandarin falling rapidly out. Minseok catches the words of “help” and “let go” before Wufan gives him a hard look, releasing his collar.
When all of Minseok’s weight falls back onto his feet, he realizes that he had been holding his breath and damn, Wufan is really tall. The other man towers over the other two and Luhan’s busy babbling words of apologies to Minseok.
Wufan glares at him one more time before sweeping into the house and Minseok sees the outline of an insect beneath Wufan’s sleeve, recognizing it as an organization sign. Cold chills sweep down his spine as he recognizes it as a Chinese gang that had been prone to violence and what’s worse is that it’s Minseok’s brother’s rival school that most of these students go to.
Luhan bows repeatedly to Minseok as he continuously apologies for his brother’s actions. With a weak smile, Minseok looks to Luhan and brushes it away with a soft, “It’s ok. He was just worried about you.”
Luhan gives another sheepish smile before turning to go into the house. Minseok watches him climb the steps before he pauses at the front door and blurts out, “Oh! Your handkerchief!” He almost looks like he wants to run back and return it before he takes a look at it. Luhan grimaces at the state of the piece of fabric. “I’ll get you a new one," he decidedly says.
Minseok just chuckles, “You don’t have to.”
The Chinese boy looks almost alarmed as he shouts back, “I will!” Minseok raises his hands in an almost defensive manner. “Meet me at Kkochbyeong in 5 days at 12?”
He finds himself nodding a lot , and Luhan gives a bashful smile before dashing into the house.
Minseok’s left staring at the door for a few more seconds before he starts walking backwards, towards home and for some reason his chest feels light as he whistles down the street. He’s doesn’t feel like the normal Minseok who just sits in the corner, nose buried in a textbook and it fills him with an elated feeling and an odd fluttering in his chest.
He’s too enraptured in his own world to feel the gaze of Luhan on his back.
September 20, 1959
Minseok’s palms are oddly sweaty as he fidgets in his seat, looking anywhere but at the door of the restaurant. I shouldn’t have come this early, he thinks, suddenly wishing that he wasn’t such a timely person. He had arrived 20 minutes early, for no apparent reason. He probably looks like a loser and Minseok was already on his third cup of water. Oh, he’s not even on time!
Just as he’s about to raise his hand and request another glass of water, a clear “Minseok!” rings across the restaurant. His eyes snap up and he feels a smile tug at the corners of his lips.
The Chinese boy, now patched up with various band aids and the bruise on his cheek fading to a yellow color, bounces into the restaurant and brushes past the waiter who stands by the door to join him.
“Hello,” Minseok greets in what he hopes is a casual, yet formal manner since he hasn’t known the other for very long.
Luhan is all smiles as he cheerfully returns the greeting and sits down, opposite to Minseok. A waiter floats by, asking for what beverage Luhan wants and he breezily replies water. The bored looking man leaves and Minseok and Luhan are left alone, one busy rubbing his palms on his pants, the other’s smile nervously gummed on his face.
“Ho-” Minseok begins.
“Your-” Luhan says at the same time. They both fall silent, each making gestures for the other to speak.
“You first,” Luhan tries.
“It’s alright, you can go first,” Minseok counters.
At that, Luhan nervously laughs and Minseok joins in, an awkward atmosphere falling on the two.
“Oh! Your handkerchief!” Luhan exclaims, diving into his pockets and withdraws a pristine square. He slides the fabric across the worn table and says with a grimace, “I tried to wash your handkerchief, but no matter how many times I washed it, I couldn’t quite get all the blood off it so I bought you a new one.”
Minseok gingerly accepts the new one even though he objects, “You didn’t have to. I wouldn’t have taken my old one anyway.”
Luhan just shakes his head, “No way I could have given it back in that state.”
With that, silence befalls again and the pair make eye contact before quickly looking away. They both look at anything but each other and the waiter breezes back with Luhan’s cup of water.
They’re snapped out of their silence when the waiter asks for their food and they both reply that they haven’t decided yet.
When the waiter goes back to manning the door, they share another quiet laugh before picking up their menus and glancing at the items offered.
“So...what’s good?” Minseok asks, eyes scanning the proffered choices.
Luhan gulps, replying, “I, uh, actually haven’t ever eaten here before, so I don’t personally know what’s good here.”
Minseok tilts the menu away from him face to shoot Luhan a cheeky smile. “So you invited me here without knowing what’s good on the menu?” What are you doing, Minseok! Alarm bells are going off in his head but he just can’t get himself to listen to them.
Luhan fumbles, a flush creeping up onto his cheeks as he stutters out, “I d-don’t go out with handsome, er, I mean, people often!” He hides behind his menu and mumbles, “My brother said that the doenjangjjigae is good.”
Minseok’s airy chuckle makes Luhan hunch lower in his seat as he easily says, “I think you’re handsome, too, Luhan.” He’s completely ignoring the blaring alarm in his mind and 4 days ago Minseok staring at him with an agast look.
Luhan peeks out from behind his menu, his shy persona falling away with a blown raspberry.
The shorter of the two just laughs at Luhan’s redden ears and chortles, “Mature.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who looks like they’re still in high school. How old are you anyway? 18?”
Minseok puffs out his chest and with a gleam in his eye, he announces, “21!”
Luhan’s mouth drops unattractively and he says, “No way! There’s no way that you’re the same age as me.”
“You’re the one who looks like he should still be going through puberty,” Minseok counters.
The awkward atmosphere falls away as the two banter back and forth as though old friends, each finding the other easy to talk to and when the waiter comes by for their order, they both decide on the doenjangjjigae.
Throughout the meal, Minseok and Luhan steal from each other’s food even though they have the same order and Minseok learns that Luhan lives with 2 brothers, one older and one younger. Both are taller than Luhan and Minseok pokes fun at it, until Luhan makes a joke that Minseok would get lost in a crowd with his height.
Luhan in return, learns that Minseok knows taekwondo, loves coffee, and has an older brother by the name of Joonmyun. Luhan makes a joke that Zitao, his younger brother, would have loved learning a few moves from Minseok and their food is quickly eaten and forgotten.
Time whittles away and Luhan glances at his watch, jerking when he sees that it’s already late. “Oh,” he says, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice, “I-I have to go. It’s getting late and Wufan ge will start wondering where I am.”
Minseok blinks and he nods. “I should get going, too.”
Neither of them make a move to leave and they catch each other’s eye before breaking into peals of laughter.
“Alright, alright. But I really should get going,” Minseok says, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck, a pretty pink dusting his cheeks.
Luhan gathers his light sweater in one hand and pushes back on his chair, making to stand. When the both are standing, Luhan hesitantly offers a hand out for a handshake and the other takes it with a firm grip and a gummy smile.
They slowly make their way out of the dimly lit restaurant and Minseok raises his hand for a wave, “Bye Luhan. Thanks fo-”
“Wait,” Luhan blurts out.
Minseok raises a brow, his hand falling back to his side.
“Do-do you want to meet again? I mean, you did really save me from getting my beat.”
Minseok laughs and makes Luhan’s chest feel a little tighter. “I think you already did get your beat before I got you out of there.”
Luhan colors, feeling the heat rush up to his face. He lets his face hang a bit, bangs flopping into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to catch a cup of coffee with me. Sometime.”
A corner of Minseok’s lip raises and he nods. “Sure. I’d really like that.”
Luhan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, saying, “Here’s the address. Would Saturday at 9 be ok?”
A quick tug of the paper out of Luhan’s hand and the twinkle in Minseok’s eye is answer enough as he folds the bit into a neat square. Minseok turns away and starts to stroll away, tossing, “See you sat, Luhan” carelessly over his shoulder and Luhan feels a breath whoosh out of his lungs.
“See you later, Minseok,” Luhan whispers when Minseok turns the corner and he knows that there’s no way that the latter can hear him.
September 26, 1959
“Sorry I’m late,” is the first thing tumbling out Luhan’s mouth as he takes a seat on the empty chair facing Minseok.
Minseok shakes his head, “You’re not too late. It’s fine.”
Luhan grimaces, seeing that Minseok’s side of the table is empty and gestures, “You haven’t ordered anything, yet?”
“I was just waiting for you to come,” Minseok’s lightly replies and make hand motions that tell him to get over it. “Now that you’re here, we can order.”
Luhan blinks rapidly at his hand in Minseok’s and he dazedly follows the other up to the counter. Minseok makes a quick decision to order an Americano and the barista dutifully scratches it down. When the server turns to Luhan, he quickly stutters, “I’ll have the same thing he’s getting.”
They settle back at the table, hearing the grinding of coffee beans and the smell filling the entire room. “So, Luhan,” Minseok begins and Luhan turns an interested eye at him, “Why did you come to Korea? It’s not exactly the most peaceful time right now.”
The taller of the two gives a small smile and answers, “My relatives live here and my brother found a job here.” Minseok nods the entire time, his eyes sparkling with interest as he slowly begins to unravel Luhan. The Chinese man is naturally loose tongued but there’s something in the way that he delights in seeing the small quirk of Minseok’s mouth, gums flashing as he laughs at Luhan’s lame jokes that just makes him want to stay for eternity.
Their coffees quickly cool, forgotten in playful banter and something that makes Luhan and Minseok’s heart swoop and neither want to leave at the end of the day.
Luhan’s reluctant glance at his watch tells him that it’s time for both of them to get home but before they say their goodbyes, another meeting already planned at the same coffee place later.
December 7, 1959
Minseok collapses on his bed, limbs sprawled across the comforter. His brother was in an uncharacteristic foul mood, bumping into things and muttering darkly under his breath. The two had just returned from the bi-monthly meetings with the club and it hadn’t gone well, tensions swelling up with the club that Luhan’s brother belongs to. One of the students in Joonmyun’s university and one of the members had gotten in a fight with the Chinese gang and it hadn’t ended well for him.
Sighing dejectedly, Minseok rolls over on his side, too tired to care about wrinkling his uniform. His eyes land on the clumsily folded crane on his desk and he feels the corners of his lips curl up in a lazy smile. It’s stupid, really, but he just can’t help smiling thinking back about the last time he had seen Luhan on Thursday.
December 4, 1959
Thursday was their unofficial thing now, meeting at the same coffee shop on Thursday afternoon when neither had classes. Typically, after the coffee came hours of talking, mundane conversation that people do in the beginning of relationships to try to map out the other, and then it often ends with Minseok walking Luhan home or vice versa. Sometimes they went to other places to eat, sometimes not. Officers still prowl the city, so when either of them, more as a running joke than anything, grabs the other and pull both of them giggling into a nearby alley.
Last Thursday, Minseok had observed that Luhan had fidgety fingers, the thin digits absently picking up a napkin and slowly twisting the fiber until it fell apart. So Minseok had brought it to Luhan’s attention who had colored and mumbled that it was a nervous habit of his.
The elder had just laughed before picking up another sheet, folding in the corner. He beckoned Luhan to look, whose attention was already fixated on Minseok’s deft fingers.
Fold, fold to make a perfect square. Rip along creases to make a square. Fold back and forth along diagonals, horizontal, vertical. The corners come in like a flower that’s closing its petals for the night. The flaps get folded in half, bend bend. The folds are opened before a corner is being lifted up and pressed down. The square becomes an elongated diamond and it’s made skinnier by being folded in. Minseok leans in and whispers in a conspiratorial whisper, “Watch carefully. Here’s where the magic happens.” Luhan gives back a muted nod that isn’t seen. He grasps the corners and pulls upwards and before Luhan’s sight, the little napkin becomes a crane and Minseok’s chortling before he realizes that he’s twisted his face into a bewildered expression.
“How did you do that?” Luhan asks incredulously, eyes wide.
Minseok shakes his head, “I just showed you.”
He stares back, saying, “Yeah, but you didn’t show me show me.”
“What does that even mean?” Minseok snorts, bumping his shoulder with the other student.
Luhan wrinkles his nose, huffing, “You need to teach me. Show me step by step.” When Minseok doesn’t say anything but look at him with a twinkle in his eye, the Chinese man rolls his eyes before he whines out Minseok’s name.
At the whine, Minseok returns with his own eye roll but indulges him anyway, going through each of his steps while Luhan fumblingly tries to copy with his own square of paper. Minseok had laughed at Luhan’s disasters and Luhan had thrown said creations in Minseok’s face but thankfully before the evening was over, Luhan had been able to make one that slightly resembled a bird.
So before they exchanged their goodbyes by Minseok’s door, they had swapped origami cranes, the little creatures holding each of their creator’s traits. Just as Minseok was about to walk in, Luhan grabbed his arm and a look passed over his face.
“What?” Minseok had reflexively asked.
Looking greatly unnerved and reluctant, Luhan had voiced that it was better if they not meet up next week. Minseok blinked, taken aback a bit. They hadn’t skipped many meetings in the weeks that they had gotten to know each other. But Luhan looked so nervous that Minseok tried to smile back reassuringly and inquired, “The week after that?”
Luhan looked back at Minseok’s eyes and the look on his face vanished as quickly as it had come. “Yeah. The week after.” The two remained quiet, Luhan staring into Minseok’s eyes and Minseok holding his breath, unable to break the eye contact. Something churns in Minseok’s stomach and he’s afraid to identify what it is.
“Good night, Minseok,” Luhan breathed out, dropping Minseok’s arm.
“Good night, Luhan,” Minseok said before Luhan turned around and walked away into the evening.
December 7, 1959
Now it made so much sense why Luhan had declined their weekly meeting. More likely than not that he had known of the rising tensions between their own respective clubs. Minseok could almost bet that Luhan hadn’t wanted to add oil to fire or pull the Korean student into the mess, so he had decided to just keep away for the week.
Ruffling his hair with his hand, Minseok blew forlornly on the paper crane, already feeling like he was going to miss Luhan a lot on Thursday. There’s more twisting in Minseok’s stomach and he accepts the feeling of loneliness and he refuses to look deeper at what the feeling means. His Thursday suddenly looked empty and Minseok briefly entertained the notion of asking Kyungsoo out to go for coffee with him but he pushed it aside since coffee on Thursday was a Luhan thing.
Staring at his discarded backpack, he just found that he couldn’t get himself to start his schoolwork. This was going to be a long week.
December 12, 1959
“Coming, coming!” Minseok shouted at the insistent doorbell.Whoever was ringing the thing really wanted someone to answer the door. Immediately.
The junior had been rudely awoken from his nap to the sound of the door ringing and he just wasn’t awake enough to pull on anything on besides a loose pair of pants he had shucked off before landing face front in his pillows.
“Yes, yes,” Minseok grumbled as he pulled open the door, eyes closed in a mid-yawn.
He froze as he heard a quiet “hello, Minseok”.
Minseok took that moment to close his eyes and mutter in his mind, keenly aware of his assumed sloppy appearance. He slowly pulled his hand down from his mouth and opened his eyes to a small grimace.
“Er, hey, Luhan-ah,” he greeted, hands shuffling down to pull at his thin tank that had pulled taut over his stomach. Minseok blinked as he swore that he saw Luhan’s eyes flicker down to the small strip of skin that had peaked. “What are you doing here?” Minseok continued, since Luhan hadn’t said anything else.
Luhan blinked as though he was the one who had just woken up.
Realizing that he still hadn’t invited Luhan in, Minseok self consciously ran a hand over his messy hair and stepped aside to let the other in. “Come in,” he mumbled.
“Oh!” Luhan said, stumbling through Minseok’s threshold. “Is-is this ok?”
Minseok glanced at the clock hanging above the entrance of the kitchen, shrugging, “No one’s home ‘cept for me.”
“Sorry for the intrusion,” Luhan automatically said, voice wavering on the last syllable. Minseok didn’t notice, gesturing to the living room, moving off to grab something from the kitchen.
“Soda? Water?” Minseok called from the front of his fridge.
“Uh, would you happen to have juice?”
Rolling his eyes good naturedly, he busied himself by pouring a glass for Luhan and one water for himself. Suddenly anxious, Minseok paused at the doorway, still unsure for the reason of Luhan’s visit. I’ll just have to find out now, won’t I, he thought before placing the refreshments on the table.
As Minseok returned from the kitchen, he saw how Luhan's eyes grilled into the various photographs scattered around the living room detailing the family's life. It seemed that Luhan only came with the intense setting, something that Minseok wasn't sure that he could take. Luhan was too perfect; he was too intense, too unstable, too pretty to even seem real.
Luhan said his thanks around the lip of the cup as Minseok sank into a chair to the side of Luhan, hands cupped around his mug. He watched as the other took a long gulp, promptly choking on the juice and proceeding to go into a coughing fit. Minseok watched the entire ordeal with an amused grin that threatened at the corners to show his gums. The illusion of Luhan's beauty always shattered when the other guaffed and Minseok treasured those moments unwittingly.
Minseok clapped his hand onto Luhan’s back, trying his best to stifle his laughter. “You ok, there?”
Luhan glanced up with watering eyes and managed a quick nod. Minseok withdrew his arm and waited for Luhan to get over his fit. After a few more weak coughs he croaked out, “Oh, god, that was so embarrassing.” Which broke Minseok out into peals of laughter, bunching his eyes and cheeks up and it was so infectious that Luhan began to weakly chuckle until he was shaking with full bodied laughs.
“You’re so stupid, Luhan,” Minseok joked, the odd awkward tension that had been hanging over the two since Luhan had showed up at Minseok’s door gone.
Luhan returned it with a crooked grin. “Glad I could be of some amusement.” Minseok just shook his head at his constant fool of a friend, “Oh yeah, you must be wondering why I’m here.” He got a raised eyebrow for that. “Ok, pointless point, but I came by because I had to bail last Thursday and I feel real bad about that.”
WIth a boldness he didn’t realize he possessed (he kept surprising himself since he had met Luhan), Minseok placed his glass onto the coffee table and nearly blurted out, “Then make up for it this weekend.”
Slightly taken back by Minseok’s enthusiastic response, Luhan quickly got over his start. “How?”
“Take me out.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere nice.” But it isn’t a date!
“...alright then. I’ll let you pick where to go.”
“It’s a date.” This was totally not a date.
Because a date would promise things Minseok wasn't sure he could give.
January 7, 1960
Minseok squinted at his watch, checking the time for what was most likely the 40th time. It was nearing 8pm and there still wasn’t a sign of Luhan. He knew that the other had a tendency to be a bit late, but not 2 hours late. Fidgeting slightly, he kept glancing out the window, power snow dusting the ground. Just from looking outside, he shivered and wiggled deeper into his woolen scarf, still holding onto the hope that Luhan was going to come tonight.
“I’m sorry, Minseok-hyung, but it’s closing time, and we’re going to have to lock up.”
Minseok’s fingers curled around his 3rd cup of coffee, 1st and 2nd long gone, and looked outside again. Sighing, he stood, placing his money onto the table. “Good night,” he coasted by the barista who returned it with an easy smile.
“He probably got caught in something and forgot to remind you,” the young, lanky barista assured him.
Glancing at Sehun before he exited the little cafe, he nodded and mumbled, “I hope so.”
January 9, 1960
It’s still snowing, Minseok registered as he pulled open the door.
“Listen, Minseok, I don’t think we can meet for a bit,” Luhan rushed out, snow settled on top of his hat.
Minseok stared at Luhan in his thin pajamas from his doorway, a pain twisting in his chest. “W-why?” he stuttered out, once he was able to find his shirt.
Luhan was pointedly looked at anywhere but Minseok, fingers curling and uncurling around themselves. A long silence stretched between them, only the falling snow moving between the two.
“Luhan?” Minseok prompted, voice barely above a whisper, as though afraid to break a spell.
The other swallowed, a fight struggling deep within him.
“Lu?” he tried again, voice coming out even smaller than the first.
More twisting fingers. Interlock. Untangle. Interlock. Untangle. Luhan’s fingers wouldn’t stop moving and that was all of Luhan that was moving.
“I-” Luhan started, voice cracking with some emotion that he couldn’t place. Minseok waited patiently, although his stomach was churning, churning with a burning anxiousness. “I think,” Luhan’s voice failed him again.
“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
With just one sentence, Minseok felt his world jolt to a stop, breath caught in his throat and there’s a constricting pain in his chest that tightens and tightens. He opens his mouth to say something, anything.
“We can’t be friends anymore because what I feel towards you isn’t a friend feeling anymore. I can’t stand it anymore. I-I’m driving myself crazy. All day, all I think of is you and whenever I smell coffee, I get hit by such intense need to see you and ask what kind of coffee it is and that’s completely irrational and-”
Luhan’s rambling is interrupted with Minseok’s sharp, “Luhan.” The twisting pain in his chest isn’t even a pain anymore. It’s fireworks exploding in his chest and he can feel something crow with happiness and he can’t even push down the feeling anymore.
Luhan’s staring at him with eyes that are filled with trepidation, anticipation, and something akin to hopeful. His breath is just taken away by the way Luhan is staring at him, because with just one look Minseok can feel that everything that Luhan just spilled out the truth and nothing less than the truth.
“Luhan.” It comes out as a whisper and Luhan is almost hypnotizing to look at.
“Yes.” A small breath. Quiet and afraid to be more than a hope.
“I like you, too.”
February 4, 1960
“Wake up, Minseok.”
He’s fighting through a haze of sleep and he feels something soft on his lips. It’s so light and fleeting.
There’s a chuckle against his lips and Luhan repeats, “Wake up, little hamster.”
Minseok groans at the tiredness that pulls at him to go back to sleep and he grunts out, “Luhan. What are you doing here.” He doesn’t even want to ask how he got in.
A devilish giggle answers his half question and there’s a finger tracing patterns on his chest. “There’s a bit of time before my first class,” he whispers in a sing song voice.
“Stop that. You’re disgustingly sappy.”
“I know.”
The finger goes up and up until it’s on Minseok’s lip and it stays there for a moment. Minseok cracks open one eye and it’s enough for him to catch Luhan’s head coming towards him and there’s lips pressed on his with a single finger separating the two.
His eyes shoot open. “Lu-” Minseok begins.
“Sh!” Luhan stops him, pink color flushing up into his cheeks. The sight is so pretty that he indulges the other for once, just letting him stew in his embarrassment.
“Come here,” Minseok sighs. He wrestles his arms out of his blankets and interlaces them behind the Chinese boy-man, Luhan’s protested many times- and pulls him down to the bed. Luhan’s staring at him with such an intense look that it’s almost like his entire world has narrowed down to just Minseok. He can feel heat creeping up his neck to spread across his cheeks. In the past month, Minseok had caught Luhan looking at him more times than he can care to count but the way he looks at him makes Minseok feel so treasured that he finds himself captivated by Luhan’s spell. Luhan likes to murmur that Minseok’s got him caught in a magic spell but Minseok feels like he’s the one trapped in Luhan’s incantation.
“Just close your eyes,” Minseok said in an undertone.
Luhan smiled at him, before Minseok loosened a hand to bring over his eyes. “Close,” he ordered firmly. Luhan’s lashes fluttered gently against his palm before closing, breathing evening out, too comfortable in Minseok’s arms.
“Let’s do this everyday one day,” Luhan breathed, promises heavy in his voice.
Minseok kissed his hand above Luhan’s eyes to seal the promise, his eyes landing 2 cranes, one made with fumbling fingers, the other with guided fingers. The cranes were facing each other, their beaks just barely touching and Minseok smiled at the sight.
One day.
March 5, 1960
“I think I love him,” Luhan whispered to himself, watching as Minseok waved from outside the coffee shop, his scarf wrapped snugly around him and looking like a picture of heaven to the one sitting inside.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
March 15, 1960
ELECTORAL FRAUDS STUNS THE NATION
MASAN MASSACRE ENDS WITH 2 MISSING AND MANY INJURED
“They went too far!”
“This is what our nation is spiraling into!”
Pandemonium's reigning in the club room, the tininess amplified by the voices bouncing around full of anger and panic. Minseok’s nothing short of terrified, half frozen by fear and half by confusion.
There’s newspapers, less than the first time since they were being monitored by the government, that glare up with headlines screaming about the citizen protest in Masan. The protest had begun as one against electoral corruption before lights had mysteriously went out and witnesses saying that police officers had shot into the crowd. The crowd had responded with rage, throwing back rocks for bullets and there had been so many injured in the riot.
Not even Joonmyun’s voice, shouting to be heard over the din could calm down the students.
University students shouted and yelled at each other and in agreement, a frenzy almost overtaking the room. Half of them were ready to march out and stage their own protest in front of the Seoul headquarters.
“ENOUGH.” Joonmyun bellowed over the commotion and everyone quieted immediately.
Minseok could feel his heart beating in his chest like a bird, the rage of the crowd seeping into his veins.
“Enough,” Joonmyun continued, “I called all of you here today to discuss what happened in Masan and see what we could gather as relief to send to those in Masan. Instead, what I have here is another riot occurring right in front of me.” His older brother’s easy going facade had stripped down. He stood rigid and tall, eyes blazing out to anyone who had bothered to open their mouths as though protesting.
*(Pff tall)* JANE I swear to god
An uneasy silence fell over the club, arms lowering and mouths closing as Joonmyun gestured to their furniture and ordered everyone to sit. There was general rustling as everyone found a seat and another moment for every eye to be back on the one figure still standing.
The meeting ended with promises of cans of food, medical supplies, and supporting messages to be sent up to Masan. Joonmyun dismissed everyone and when they locked the doors, he had an almost haggard look on his face.
“What do you think mom cooked for tonight? Hot pot?” Joonmyun babbled, hands placing the key back into his pocket.
Stepping outside, Minseok froze, spotting a tall hulking figure leaning against the wall near the meeting room. The older student almost bumped into his younger brother and he peered strangely at Minseok. “What’s the matter? Why’d you stop?”
He looked around Minseok and his spine went rigid. Joonmyun cursed something under his breath that Minseok couldn’t catch but his brother spared him another glance. “Go home first. I have something to take care of,” Joonmyun dismissed his brother, giving him a gentle push in the direction of their home before walking towards the shadowed man.
“Go,” Joonmyun ushered to Minseok before getting to the man.
“What the hell are you doing here?” was the last thing Minseok heard hissed from his brother before he rounded the corner and the next words were swallowed. A scorpion stood out in his mind before it was chased out of his mind by a rock sticking out of the ground that stubbed his toe. Rubbing his toe, Minseok focused on the road and the stranger was soon forgotten.
April 11, 1960
There’s no meeting today, but everyone knows. Everyone saw a newspaper thrown onto their laws. Everyone saw the news.
KIM JU-YUL’S BODY FOUND DUMPED IN HARBOR
Black uniforms roaming the streets like hungry dogs, eager to hunt down any misfortune soul who dared wander the streets. It’s quiet on the road.
More bold titles spread across the news.
PROTESTERS BROKE INTO MASAN HOSPITAL TO FIND KIM JU-YUL’S CORRECT AUTOPSY
Masan was in chaos.
Seoul was quiet.
April 12, 1960
Meeting today
It’s a small slip of paper under each member’s door.
April 12, 1960 (Later that day)
“We have to do something. We need to speak out.””
April 13, 1960
“Who’s in?”
April 14, 1960
“Son? Stay safe, please.”
“I will, mom,” Joonmyun promises, giving his mother a brief peck on her cheek before slipping out the door. Minseok follows, echoing the same. Joonmyun had always been one to stand up for what he had believed in, justice above all.
April 15, 1960
“We’re going to stage our own protest.”
April 16, 1960
“Or we’re going to die in oppression.”
April 17, 1960
“We are the generation that will start a revolution.”
April 18, 1960
Rolling his eyes at Luhan’s half hearted shove, Minseok lets himself get pushed near the grimy wall as they exit the restaurant, the doenjangjjigae just as good as Wufan had said it was the first time they had come there to eat.
Luhan abruptly stops in the middle of the road and the older bumps into him with a soft “oof!” Minseok backtracks a few steps and squints up at Luhan. “What was that for? Why’d you stop walking?”
Luhan doesn’t answer but his eyes are wide and there’s panic in them. Minseok follows his line of vision and his own mouth drops. There’s Wufan being shoved by 2 men in uniforms, each waving a baton over their head and shouting angry korean at the Chinese man. Wufan looks battered, similar to how Minseok had first met Luhan. There’s a cut above his eyebrow that runs a trickle of blood into his eye and his cheek is swelling. He’s shoved into a kneeling position along with another group of students who have been forcefully pushed.
“Down!” an officer orders and Wufan has enough fight left in in to shoot an angry glare. Another officer catches the dirty look and send his baton into the back of Wufan’s knee and his legs give out and he collapses to the dirt road.
It’s the student protest, which had snuck up on Luhan and Minseok, rage boiling over to instigate the frenzy. Everyone wearing a uniform had been grabbed and forced onto their knees in a paltry attempt to keep the peace.
Officers are scrambling about like agitated bees and Luhan suddenly surges, rushing for his brother. “Wufan!” he screeches, but Minseok’s arm snaps out to grab Luhan.
There’s nothing but alarm and fear in Luhan’s eyes as he looks back at Minseok. “Wufan,” he whimpers at the fear on Minseok’s face.
His own heartbeat is drumming in his ears as he shakes his head, tugging the Chinese man back to him. Minseok pulls too hard and he feels the slight trembling of Luhan as he crashes into Minseok’s chest. He wraps his arms around the boy who takes to lunging towards his brother, desperately trying to break out of Minseok’s grip. “Wufan! Wufan!” Luhan’s cries get more and more frantic as his hands scramble at Minseok’s hold.
“Luhan, no! Don’t jump in! You’ll get us both killed!” Minseok tries to reason with Luhan but his pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Wufan! Ge!” Luhan’s shrieks claw at Minseok’s ears as he pulls Luhan away from Wufan, his heart breaking at the despair in Luhan’s voice. It’s not until Minseok drags the fighting Luhan into an abandoned store that he sags in Minseok’s arms, heaving dragging breaths.
Minseok gently places him down on a bench that looks like it can barely hold the other’s weight before stepping back and looks at Luhan. The frenzy’s faded a bit from his eyes and but Luhan’s still got that look like he’s going to jump up any second and bolt back to his brother.
“Lu-” Minseok begins before Wufan crashes through the door.
“Wufan ge!” Luhan cries, jumping to his feet to try to support his staggering brother. The cut on his forehead is bleeding profusely and he can barely see the original color of Wufan’s cheek.
“Are you ok?” Luhan desperately asks, knowing that the answer isn’t yes.
But what he doesn’t expect is for Wufan to growl out, “They have Joonmyun.”
“What?” Minseok whimpers. His world tilts and Wufan didn’t just say that they had his older brother.
“Joonmyun. He jumped in to grab me but they pulled him in.” Minseok almost doesn’t register the pain in Wufan’s voice.
Minseok staggers back, feet unsteady. Luhan just manages to set Wufan down before helping his boyfriend from falling on his face.
“They-” he cuts himself off, throat closing on him, unable to get another word out.
Staring at Wufan with disbelief, Minseok spins into the same frenzy that Luhan was just in a moment ago when the injured one nods gravely.
“Minseok. Minseok, calm down,” Luhan tries, hand barely trembling as he sets it on Minseok’s shoulder.
“We have to gather the others,” Minseok says, voice only slightly shaking.
“What?”
“Please! The others! My club members and Wufan’s gang!” Minseok’s voice cracks as he gathers volume, pleading jumping out of his eyes. He lunges up, hands going to grab at Luhan’s collar.
“Minseok! Calm down!” Luhan yelps, trying to placate him.
“I’ll go get everyone I can,” Wufan’s deep voice comes between the two. When they glance back at him, he’s out of the door saying to meet him at the square where all the captured students are gathered in half an hour.
Quiet. There’s muffled shouting from outside, but apart from their hearts thundering, Luhan and Minseok hear nothing else.
“Minseok, Min please,” Luhan pleads, hands coming up to grasp the other’s face. “Look at me, Min.” When Minseok’s eyes land on Luhan’s there’s something so heavy lying in Luhan’s eyes it takes Minseok’s breath away. It takes Minseok’s breath away like all the other times that he finds Luhan looking at him like Minseok contains all the secrets to life and the world. It’s nothing new but Minseok always finds himself unable to look away.
“I’m here,” he breathes out, eyes darting around Minseok’s face.
“I’m afraid,” Minseok cracks, eyes filling up and blurring Luhan’s face in front of him. Everything, the reality of the situation, dawns on him and Minseok knows the trapped animal inside of him is called fear.
“Shh, I know, Min. I know. I-I am, too,” Luhan tries to comfort him. He pulls the other’s trembling form into his arms. When he continues speaking, comforts spilling out like a dam that’s been unleashed, Minseok can feel the vibration against his chest.
When Luhan pulls him away, he kisses all the tears off of Minseok’s face, the soft murmuring stream never stopping. He repeats ‘it’ll be ok’ over and over again until Minseok feels himself begin to believe it.
Minseok buries his face back in Luhan’s chest, hands gripping the back of his shirt tight, like he’s afraid that if he lets go, Luhan will fall away from his grip.
A scream comes from outside and there’s the brutal sound of a heavy object hitting someone far, far away from where they are, but Minseok flinches and Luhan hugs the other tighter.
Minseok feels a tear fall onto his hair and there’s a pause in the stream of ‘it’ll be ok’. “Will it really?” he asks to no one.
Their fingers are clasped tight and they don’t waver as Wufan fixes a hard eye on them.
They stand resolute when a crowd of thousand is standing around them.
“Let’s go get everyone back,” Minseok says to Wufan, to the crowd, to Luhan.
Wufan nods, before lifting his bat up high to the air, ordering, “Let’s move!”
The crowd shifts and begins moving, following the three who lead everyone. Thunderous footsteps echo and announce their presence to anyone nearby and there’s an angry buzz that grows in volume as they get nearer and nearer to the square.
Soldiers soon come in sight and there’s a line of police officers pointing their guns at the mob that looms in front of them. The very sight of the men who threaten them cause the student to stop in their tracks, not in fear but in disbelief and anger.
“Minseok!”
Joonmyun’s horrified scream echoes across the square and Minseok whips his head to identify his brother’s voice.
“Joonmyun,” Minseok mouths back, throat too tight to get anything out. His brother looks just as beaten and bruised as Wufan does.
They laid a finger on Joonmyun. And suddenly the thought of his older brother getting hurt fills him with so much rage that he stands upright, spine rigid. He wants to pay back those who hurt his brother with 10,000 times the pain.
There’s a moment of stand off as he stares at the officer who towers over his brother’s tied up body. And Minseok knows that he’s the one who did it to Joonmyun.
The man stares coldly at the crowd and then to Wufan, his gaze landing on Minseok. His raised hand falls and Minseok knows that it’s a signal for something. By his side, Luhan’s hand tightens and the line of guns pointed at them waver.
Wufan bellows and the crowd surges forward. Minseok begins striding, a resolution so strong in his chest as the guns in front of them steady and there’s a loud click.
And a loud recoil echoes.
It’s so loud. So, so, so loud that Minseok feels his hearing go from the volume. He just sees as dust flies all around him, a few students go down on his sides, and the look of terror on his brother’s face. He feels the heat, the pebbles that fly up to hit him, the feeling of Luhan’s hand tight around his.
Joonmyun’s eyes are wide open in terror and his mouth is open like he’s screaming but Minseok can’t hear anything. He just keeps walking.
The line of guns fall down to reload and they’re back up after 15 paces and they’re so close that Minseok can see the confusion swirling in the police officers’ eyes.
It’s so bright. So, so, so bright that Minseok has to close his eyes as the guns fire a second volley.
It’s so painful. So, so, so painful that Minseok feels his legs give out from under him as something pierces his chest.
It seemed like his hearing was back as he can’t hear anything else but the scream that’s coming from Luhan.
It’s a scream that goes on and on, high and keening. It sounds like it’s from a grieving animal and Minseok wants to frown and put his finger on Luhan’s lips to quiet him because it hurts his ears.
But really, his ears don’t hurt. His chest hurts. And he wants to ask Luhan to make it stop. But when he tries to lift his arms they feel like they weigh a ton and so he tries to frown but it makes him so tired.
Minseok feels arms cradled around him and his vision is suddenly narrowed to nothing but Luhan’s face. Tears are dropping off Luhan’s face and he blinks as each other hits his face.
“Don’t cry, Luhan,” Minseok chokes out, his hand finding Luhan’s. He gives Luhan’s hand a squeeze that takes a Herculean effort.
“Minseok, don't say anything. We'll get you to a hospital,” Luhan babbles out, his eyes boring down on Minseok like he’s his entire world as always.
Minseok grimaces as a wave of pain hits him. The paper crane. When he had waited for Luhan to return from the washroom earlier today, he had written a confession to his boyfriend, words that he was too shy to say out loud. After staring at the words,he had shook his head and tore off the words and folded them up into a tiny paper bird.
He reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling for the feeling of paper but the feeling in his finger seemed to be going. Finally closing around a bit of paper, he drew out his hand and pressed the little crane to Luhan's chest.
"Since I couldn't say them out loud, I wrote them down," Minseok explained, heart hurting at the look of anguish on Luhan's face.
"You'll be able to say them to me when we get out of this," Luhan insisted, tears welling up. "We'll be alright," he chokes out.
“It’ll be ok,” he gets out, and the pain is so much but he can’t let Luhan know or else he’ll worry unnecessarily.
“It’ll be ok,” Minseok repeats. Luhan’s shaking. “Don’t show that sad face to anyone anymore. Be happy. Don’t be sad.”
He stifled a sob, trying to twist his expression into a smile-the last smile.
Minseok wants to say it again, but it takes too much effort from him. So he gives Luhan’s hand another squeeze.
The words ‘I love you’ are right on his tongue before he feels a tight constriction around his chest and the world fades to black.
We’ll be alright.
Notes: *help
**beautiful
***you're welcome
Thank you much to my betas. This would be nothing without your help.
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