KPop: Borderlines (Jongin/Lu Han, PG-13) [1/2]

[maayacolabackup]

Title: Borderlines
Pairing: Lu Han/Jongin, OT12
Rating: PG-13
Length: 19.6k
Summary: When Jongin and Lu Han are chosen to travel through China together for a TVN reality show, Jongin certainly isn’t expecting things to get so complicated.
Notes: This was finished for one_if_by_land for the runandgun exchange in what I wish had been the most harrowing 36 hours of my exchange participating life. Still, I love this fic for a lot of reasons; one, because it gave me the chance to write a pairing I'd only briefly flirted with in the past; two, because my recipient was/is someone I sort of have starry-eyes over and I wanted to try to make her happy; and three, because I love writing about China more than anything because I love China. Also, stupid Maia, completely lame for forgetting to thank Linda( buzzbird) for the intial beta, because her last minute plothole corrections an invaluable tool. :)
Notes ii: A big thank you to Mec (notaverse) for picking this over for me before repost; I'm only sorry to have submitted it with so many errors!! <3 <3 
It was originally posted here :D

***


“So you’re both going,” Sehun says flatly, and Jongin shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Yes,” Lu Han says, curling his fingers loosely around his chopsticks. “Jongin and I were selected for this project.”

“Why you two?” Sehun asks, and the tiny frown lingering at the corners of his lips is unsettling. Jongin puts his hands on his knees, rubbing his thumbs anxiously along the seam on the inside of his jeans, as Lu Han takes a bite of noodles.

“Because of Jongin’s Mandarin,” Lu Han says, after he swallows. “He has the best Mandarin out of the K members, and they wanted one member from each group.”

Sehun sucks his lower lip into his mouth and gives them both a thoughtful look, like he’s deliberating. When his frown clears, Jongin’s stomach unclenches.

“It’s going to be pretty boring without you guys for three weeks,” Sehun says, and Jongin snorts. “You’ll be off filming a travel documentary for TVN and I’ll be at home, wallowing in the silence.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Jongin asks.

Lu Han makes an amused noise in the back of his throat. “Not sure if it’s possible for this dorm to be boring-“

“Park Chanyeol,” yells a deep voice, and Chanyeol comes careening into the kitchen, laptop clutched to his chest. He dives behind Sehun’s chair, yelping loudly when his elbow hits the leg of it, and rests his head on Sehun’s thigh.

“Save me,” he says, turning those big eyes up at them each in turn.

“From what?” Jongin asks, scrunching his nose up as Kris appears in the kitchen doorway, eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a straight line.

“Give me the laptop,” Kris says in careful Korean, and Lu Han shoves another bite of noodles into his mouth. Jongin thinks he might be trying not to laugh.

“No,” Chanyeol says. “It’s my laptop, and I don’t have to give it to you.”

Kris stalks around the table, and Chanyeol moves too, keeping the table between them. “You do when you use it to-“

“What have you done, Chanyeol?” Sehun asks, eyes wide.

“He took pictures of me-“ Kris stops, and flushes. “He took some bad photos of me.”

“You looked so cute,” Chanyeol coos, irrepressible smile already stealing its way back onto his face. “I couldn’t resist!”

Kris makes a strangled sound, that Jongin thinks is halfway between a groan of resignation and a scream of frustration, and Chanyeol bolts. Kris is hot on his heels, and Jongin, Lu Han, and Sehun are left alone in the kitchen. Lu Han has almost finished his noodles.

“Yeah, so,” Jongin says, tapping his fingers on the wood of the table with one hand as the other pushes his hair out of his face, “I don’t really think you’re going to get bored while we’re gone.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sehun says, and Lu Han sits back in his chair.

“I leave for work all the time, and it’s fine,” Lu Han says. “Junmyeon is probably relieved I’m taking Jongin with me.”

“A moment of respite,” Sehun agrees, and Jongin glares at them both.

“You act like I’m a problem-child, or something,” he grumbles, and Sehun laughs, tongue pressing against his retainer as he leans forward across the table.

“To Junmyeon, you’re all problem children,” Lu Han says, turning sparkling eyes on Jongin. “Luckily, I don’t mind keeping an eye on you for a little while.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” Jongin says. “In fact, with that baby face, if we took a poll-“

Lu Han shrugs, a little uncomfortably, before his face smoothes. “When we’re all old, I’ll be the blossom of youth,” Lu Han says confidently, and Jongin pokes his cheek as Sehun rolls his eyes.

There’s a scream from the hallway, and then a moment of silence.

“Looks like Wu Fan caught him,” Lu Han says, laughter bubbling behind his words, and Jongin can’t help it; he bursts out laughing, and Sehun starts laughing too.

“Alright,” Sehun says. “Perhaps it won’t be that boring without you guys.”

“You’ll have Zitao!” Lu Han says, tapping his fingers aimlessly on the table.

Sehun grins. “You’re right. I keep forgetting it’s not M that’s leaving, just you two losers.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jongin says dryly, and Lu Han catches his gaze and smiles, and Jongin smiles tentatively back, a faint tremble in his gut.


***


“And make sure you pack extra underwear,” Kyungsoo says, as Jongin pulls a few thin cotton shirts from the closet. “And lots of sunscreen for your neck.”

“For my neck?” Jongin asks, pausing with a t-shirt in each hand.

“Well, you know how you like to wear those shirts with obscene necklines,” Kyungsoo says, sitting on the bed with a book on his lap and left leg crossed over his right. “It’s supposed to be really hot next week in Beijing.”

“Right,” Jongin says. “Thanks, Mom.” Jongin licks his lips and considers, before he pulls down one of his shirts with a crew neck, just in case the sun is extra bright one day, or something.

“If you call me ‘mom’ one more time, Kim Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, but there’s barely any heat to his voice, and Jongin grins at his roommate unrepentantly.

“You’ll what?” Jongin asks. “Cook me some dinner? Refold all my tank tops into triangles in revenge?”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says. “Without me you’d be a starved, sunburned exhibitionist, and you know it.”

Jongin collapses onto Kyungsoo’s bed and sighs. “This trip is going to be fun, right?”

“Of course it will,” Kyungsoo says. “You and Lu Han traveling around China? It’s going to be a blast. I’m jealous.”

“It would be more fun without the cameras,” Jongin says, staring at the ceiling. He folds his hands together on top of his stomach and sighs. “It’s fine performing in front of them but-“

“You don’t need to tell anyone how awkward you are,” Junmyeon says from the doorway. “Trust me, we all know.”

“No one was talking to you,” Jongin says. “Go away.”

“Awww, it’s cute when you pretend you don’t love me,” Junmyeon says, leaping onto the bed. Kyungsoo squeaks, and closes his book. “But I know the truth.”

“What’s the truth, exactly?” Jongin asks, turning to look at Junmyeon, who’s lying on his stomach across Kyungsoo’s legs. Kyungsoo has a pained look on his face.

“That you’re going to miss us while you become a variety star,” Junmyeon says, reaching out and pinching Jongin’s cheek. “Kids grow up so fast these days.”

“I’m not a kid,” Jongin says, “you’re just an old man.” Jongin exhales. “They should have picked Chanyeol. Or Baekhyun. Someone with social skills.”

“You have social skills,” Kyungsoo says, patting at Jongin’s head comfortingly, but his tone sounds rather dubious. “Kind of.”

“I mean, I’m great with you guys-“ Jongin starts, and Junmyeon snorts. “I mean, I get by with you guys, but I’m not… the best at… conversation.”

“Think of it as an opportunity for practice!” Kyungsoo says.

“Reclusive isn’t exactly the best idol trait,” Junmyeon says, and Jongin closes his eyes.

“I know that, obviously,” Jongin says. “I wish being an idol was actually just singing and dancing.”

“Singing? Really?”

“I hate you,” Jongin says in Junmyeon’s direction, and Junmyeon snickers. “Anyway, I’m not the best choice to host a show, or a documentary, or whatever.”

“You’ll have Lu Han. It’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo says. “Just think about the fun parts.”

Junmyeon stands up and pulls down his shirt as Jongin sits up and surveys his half-packed luggage. “The fun parts. Right.”

It’ll be nice to travel with Lu Han, Jongin thinks. It’s fun to do most things with Lu Han. Jongin can imagine Lu Han making him try all sorts of weird foods and teaching him Mandarin slang, and making stupid vapid faces at stuff he’s seen before, and it makes him smile.

“There you go,” Kyungsoo says. “Now don’t forget your toothbrush.”

“Of course, Mom,” Jongin says, and Kyungsoo groans as Junmyeon cackles.


***


Jongin wakes up on the morning he’s supposed to leave with a giant pimple on his left cheek. He figures it’s stress; it’s not that he isn’t excited about backpacking around tourist landmarks in China with Lu Han, it’s just that Jongin is a nervous person by nature. He’s only not-nervous on stage, because he’s good at performing. This documentary thing isn’t performing at all. He and Lu Han are just supposed to be themselves and introduce Korean audiences to cool places in China.

Jongin, being himself, is more inclined to hide behind his hands and/or the nearest available person, which he knows is probably not what the producers are aiming for. When Jongin had first heard about the project, it had been in vague terms with no names attached. Their fashion coordinators had been gossiping about it as they slicked Jongin’s hair back from his face, and he’d thought it sounded cool. Two members backpacking through China with two camera people, doing the tourist thing. Half-documentary, half-reality show. It had just been a pleasant buzz in his ears, because there was no way he’d be selected to do something like that. He’d watch it on television when it aired, making fun of whichever member got caught repeatedly on screen with no make-up.

Only K’s manager had cornered him after a performance on M Countdown and told him he’d be K’s representative, and he’d pretty much gone numb with horror. Not even the fact that he’d be with Lu Han could stem the dread in his belly at the thought of having to have a personality on camera.

He’s almost mentally prepared now, but clearly his body is still just as upset about this whole thing as Jongin wishes he was allowed to be.

He inspects his pimple slash manifestation of despair in the mirror with dismay as he washes his face, and wonders how bad it will look on camera. Hopefully it goes down by tomorrow, he thinks, as he rubs a bit of aloe spot treatment on it.

“Why are you awake right now?” Chanyeol says drowsily, as he shuffles into the bathroom. “And get out; I have to pee.”

Chanyeol’s got sleep in his eyes and his hair is a mess, and Jongin laughs at him. “I’m leaving for China today with Lu Han, remember?”

“Oh right,” Chanyeol says. “Try not to show your nipples too many times on television.”

“I don’t do it on purpose,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol winces.

“Too early for noise, Dancing Machine,” Chanyeol says, voice even lower than usual.

“If your fangirls could see you now,” Jongin says turning back to the mirror for one last look at the zit on his cheek as Chanyeol shifts from foot to foot in the doorway.

“Luckily, they haven’t gotten that stalkerish with their mobile phone cameras yet,” Chanyeol says, scratching at the side of his head.

Jongin grabs his toothbrush and comb, doing a sweep in case he missed anything else he might need, and sighs. “I think it’s more that security outside the dorm is too good.”

“Fair enough,” Chanyeol says.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” Jongin says, stepping away from the sink with an exaggerated sigh.

“Have a good trip, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, punching him in the arm. “Try not to be too annoying for Lu Han.”

“I know you are not talking about someone being annoying,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol chuckles.

“You’ve got a knot in your hair,” Chanyeol says, smile stretching across his face. “At the nape of your neck.” Jongin swears and looks in the mirror again, but Chanyeol is already pushing him out the door. “Good luck, okay? Don’t die.”

The bathroom door slams, and Jongin is staring at the closed door with a scowl on his face. “Thanks for the encouragement,” he mutters, kicking spitefully at the door until he remembers everyone else is asleep, and guiltily scratches the back of his neck.

His backpack is waiting by the front door, and on top of it is a folded paper bag that says breakfast in Kyungsoo’s handwriting, He shoves it in the main pocket of his bag.

“Thanks, Mmom,” Jongin says to himself with a smile, and checks the front pocket of his backpack for his passport. It’s there, along with his wallet, and he puckers his lips and tries to think if he’s forgotten anything. Nothing comes to mind. “Okay, then let’s go,” he says quietly, and lifts his backpack, swinging it onto both shoulders because it’s heavy, and walks out into the hall.

Lu Han is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, backpack next to his feet. His eyes are closed and he’s got earbuds in, and Jongin can hear the familiar strains of an old DBSK song as he steps closer.

Lu Han opens his eyes when he senses Jongin’s proximity, and he offers a drowsy grin. “Good morning,” he says, in Mandarin, and Jongin steals one of his earbuds.

“I like this song,” he says, in explanation for his theft, when Lu Han raises an eyebrow, and then Lu Han shrugs. “Ready?”

“I was the one waiting for you,” Lu Han says, picking up his bag and slinging it over one shoulder, before grabbing Jongin’s wrist. “M’s manager is waiting for us outside.”

“Right,” Jongin says. Lu Han walks close, so that the earbuds don’t fall out of either of their ears, and their arms brush with every step. Lu Han’s skin is very soft.

Outside, one of EXO’s vans is waiting, and M’s manager is standing in front of the back passenger door, a cigarette between his teeth and chatting rapidly in Mandarin. Jongin hands Lu Han back his earbud, and stretches his arms above his head, yawning wide and closing his eyes against the sunlight.

When he opens them again, Lu Han is staring at him. “What?”

“You’re cute,” Lu Han says, and Jongin blushes because Lu Han looks so amused.

“I’m not cute,” Jongin says. “I’m the member in charge of sexiness.” He can’t even say it with a straight face, because he keeps remembering Leeteuk’s face that time he said it on Kiss the Radio.

Lu Han laughs at him, opening the door, as Jongin tries not to think about the bump on his face or the way his hair is an absolute mess right now. “Okay, if you say so.” Jongin gets into the van first, just to hide away from Lu Han’s entertained eyes.

The ride to the airport is pretty quiet, because Jongin is terrible at small talk and Lu Han doesn’t really bother with it unless Yixing is around. When the two of them are together, they giggle like schoolgirls, often poking at Wu Fan while Sehun and Tao smirk in the background, whispering secretly to themselves. But with Jongin, Lu Han knows the silence is okay, maybe, because Jongin only really likes talking if he’s got something to say, and no one has anything to say this early in the morning.

They sit in the very back of the van, Lu Han sleeping on Jongin’s shoulder and fiddling with the hem of Jongin’s oversized tank shirt, while Jongin takes pictures of his sandals and spams Sehun’s cell phone so he’ll wake up to forty messages of Jongin’s footwear and maybe won’t miss them already. He’ll have Tao, at least, so Jongin doesn’t feel like Sehun’s completely abandoned.

“This is a brand new kind of selca,” Lu Han mumbles into his shoulder, and Jongin laughs.

“I’m just being obnoxious,” he says, and Lu Han looks up at him through his wavy bangs and snorts.

“Nothing new, then?” He draws patterns along Jongin’s arm as he speaks, and it tickles enough that Jongin has to bite his lip to keep from giggling.

Jongin studies Lu Han suspiciously, and sure enough, there’s a bit of mischief pulling at Lu Han’s lips. “Stop it,” Jongin says. “Or I’m going to move to the other side of the van.”

“You’re all talk and no action,” Lu Han says, but he drops his hand and closes his eyes, curling back into Jongin’s side for the rest of the trip.

At Gimpo airport, Jongin gets an emoticon filled SMS from Sehun that basically says no one wants to see Jongin’s ugly feet and even uglier shoes, but the message is filled with smiley faces so Jongin takes it as a success.

He texts back a victory sign, and Lu Han purposefully bumps into him, elbow finding Jongin’s ribs. “Don’t walk and text,” he says, and the manager laughs as he walks in front of him. “You’ll bump into someone and they’ll recognize us despite the fact that this is an unannounced airport trip.”

“I’ll bump into someone?”

“You aren’t rookies anymore,” the manager says. “It’s been over a year since you’ve debuted. You’re going to be recognized no matter what.”

“Were we ever, um, not recognized?” Jongin asks, and Lu Han laughs. “Not to sound arrogant or anything, but.”

“I guess not,” Lu Han says, as they approach check-in. “Are we keeping our bags?”

“Definitely,” Jongin says. “Easy exit at the airport.” Their manager nods in agreement. “I guess I’m thankful we’re only allowed a backpack, after all.”

“I sort of miss your big pink polka-dot suitcase, though,” Lu Han says, and Jongin furrows his brows and tries to decide if Lu Han is making fun of him or not, because sometimes it’s hard to tell.

“I love that suitcase,” Jongin says, defiantly, just in case, and Lu Han pats him on the shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he says, and his eyes crinkle up at the corners, and it isn’t fair, Jongin thinks, that Lu Han gets away with everything because no one can stay upset with him. “You’re such a kid.”

“Says the guy who is intimately acquainted with every glass door in China,” Jongin quips, and Lu Han gives him a sour face at him that makes Jongin feel like they’re on more even ground. “I’ve seen the Nate videos.”

As they wait to board the plane, the manager hands them each a camcorder, and makes sure they know how to use it. Lu Han immediately turns his on and starts filming Jongin, who puts his palm in front of the lens and tells him to cut it out.

“I’m going to be filming you all the time,” Lu Han says. “You’d better get used to it.”

“But why?” Jongin whines, playing with the view-screen on his own camcorder, clicking it open and closed as Lu Han laughs and replays the footage he just took, of Jongin’s hand and muffled laughter.

“Because it’s a documentary,” Lu Han says. “I want to document you.” Jongin sighs and stares at his knees. “Relax, okay? It’s really going to be fine.”

“I don’t care,” Jongin says, and Lu Han kicks Jongin’s foot with his own.

“Yes, you do,” Lu Han says. “But you shouldn’t, because this will be fun.”

“But you’re good at… smiling and being friendly when it’s not a performance. I’m good at being awkward.”

“Just pretend like the camera isn’t here,” Lu Han says, putting the lens cap back on the camcorder.

Lu Han sleeps on the plane, but Jongin studies, mouthing Mandarin words aloud to himself as he traces the characters with his index finger on the page. He’s trying to memorize anything that will keep him from being humiliated, because he knows they’ll keep all the worst scenes of him in the final program because that’s how being an idol works.

Lu Han looks innocent in sleep. A lot of people think Lu Han looks innocent in everyday life, too, but Jongin knows better, because Lu Han is always one second away from another smartass comment, and there’s always something deeper lurking behind Lu Han’s gentle smiles. That’s why Jongin likes him, really. But in sleep, there’s no secretive sparkle to Lu Han’s gaze, and his eyelashes rest dark against his cheeks. No naughtiness is lurking at the edges of his mouth, and he looks just like a figure cast of porcelain.

Jongin carefully uses his foot to drag his backpack out from under the seat in front of him, and reaches down with his left arm, keeping his right shoulder as still as possible as he makes a grab for his camcorder case that he’s tied to the front of his backpack. He slowly unzips it, careful not to make too much noise, and pulls out the handheld camera, turning it on and pulling off the lens-cap. He focuses it on Lu Han’s slumbering face, and grins as he zooms it in super close.

“This is a sleeping hyung,” he whispers. “We’re on our way to China, but this hyung is too lazy to stay awake.” Jongin feels playful, probably because he’s not on camera. Maybe these camcorders aren’t so bad. “For those viewers watching who can’t speak any Mandarin, hyung in Mandarin is ge. But I never call Lu Han that, even if I am practicing my language skills.” He keeps his voice soft, but he knows the camera will pick it up loud and clear, because he’s whispering right by the sound input. “Isn’t he handsome?”

He tucks the camera away with a sneaky, self-satisfied little smile, and then leans back in his seat and rests his eyes for the remainder of the flight.

By the time they arrive in China, at Beijing Nanyuan Airport, Jongin’s stomach has started to settle. Lu Han looks more asleep than awake, and there’s an imprint from the wrinkles in Jongin’s t-shirt in his cheek, which makes Jongin laugh, and Lu Han rubs at the side of his face, chagrined. “You laugh now,” Lu Han says. “But don’t forget Chanyeol has all those pictures of the time you fell asleep in the bathtub with Zitao.”

Jongin pouts. “I should have helped Kris get that laptop,” he mumbles, and Lu Han gives him a smile that looks more sharkish than sweet.

“Maybe you should have,” Lu Han says, and then they’re off, disembarking. Lu Han goes through domestic immigration, because he’s a citizen, and Jongin has to wait in a separate line with their manager, getting his passport stamped.

Jongin exchanges emails with Sehun as he waits; asinine things that don’t mean much, and when they’re through security he slides his phone into his pocket and hopes there isn’t an army of fangirls with their own smartphones waiting for the two of them.

“Get ready,” Lu Han says, and his face is blank but anyone who knows Lu Han can see that there’s a tightness around his mouth. Lu Han’s been pushed down more than anyone else, in airports.

Jongin drops an arm over Lu Han’s shoulder. “You’ll protect me, right?” Jongin asks it in a light and breathy voice, and Lu Han chokes on his own breath, looking up with sparkling, amused eyes.

“Of course, Princess-“ Lu Han starts to say, but Jongin swats him lightly with his far hand and Lu Han giggles. Still, his tension has dispersed, and Jongin’s has, too.

They get lucky. Maybe a few stragglers take pictures but the rare precautions taken for their travel get them out of the airport without fanfare.

“SM could do this for us all the time,” Jongin mumbles in Korean, and Lu Han waggles his eyebrows.

“Then how would people take pictures of Leader in his element?”

Jongin sighs and runs his hand through his hair exasperatedly. He starts to speak, but then he hears someone yell Kai, and he looks up and there’s a small cluster of fans. The manager opens the door to their van, though, and when it closes behind them, Jongin thinks this is the easiest travel he’s experienced in over a year.

They drive off slow and steady, and Jongin guesses they’ll stay at a hotel tonight, and everything will start for real tomorrow.

“Welcome to China,” Lu Han says, and he watches the world go by out the window.

“I’ve been to China tons of times,” Jongin scoffs, slouching in his seat. Lu Han rolls his head around on his neck exaggeratedly to look at Jongin out of the corner of his eye. His hair is a mess, falling tousled into his eyes as he sticks out his tongue.

“Not with your safety in my hands,” Lu Han teases, and Jongin reaches over and pokes his cheek.

“You’re an angel,” Jongin says, and Lu Han gives him a devious grin. “You’d never let me get hurt because I’m so…”

“Sexy?” Lu Han says archly, and Jongin blushes and looks down before he has to laugh at himself a little.

“Never going to live that down?”

“Sometimes Yixing and I sit and listen to it on repeat,” Lu Han says. “The glorious sound of our senior shutting you down.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jongin says, and he buries his face in his hands and sighs. “Or we can talk about the time you hit on that married Thai woman, if you’d rather—“

“Fine, fine,” Lu Han says. “You win. That was so embarrassing.” He leans down and plops his head in Jongin’s lap. He blinks up at Jongin, fluttering his long dark eyelashes, and Jongin grins.

“What?”

“You are so beautiful, my honey,” Lu Han croons, and Jongin flicks him in the forehead as he cackles.

“You are constantly up to no good,” Jongin says, shoving Lu Han, but not hard enough that he might actually fall off of Jongin’s lap. His head is warm on Jongin’s thighs. “As glad as Junmyeon is to be rid of me, I’m sure Wu Fan is equally glad to be free of you.”

“So am I,” Lu Han says resignedly. “I’m counting on Yixing to keep him in check. Zitao just keeps building up his ego, and…”

Jongin laughs and absently starts to fuss with Lu Han’s already fluffy hair. Lu Han’s hair is always the first to go awry in any sort of humidity, and Jongin would rib him about it but he actually finds it really cute.

He usually finds Lu Han cute, though, in a way that makes him feel like he’s got snakes in his stomach. It’s not a feeling Jongin really recognizes, but maybe it’s because the way he thinks about Lu Han is half admiration and half unwieldy affection that seems almost too big for the space Jongin’s prepared to give it.

“What are you staring at?” Lu Han asks, and Jongin feels like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which is stupid because he hasn’t really done anything wrong.

“Your stupid hair,” Jongin says, and Lu Han sighs and reaches up to pat it down, elbowing Jongin in the sternum. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Lu Han says, but he doesn’t sound very repentant. Probably because he knows he’ll get away with it, the way Jongin lets him get away with everything.

“You’re not even,” Jongin mumbles, as the car rolls to a stop in front of their hotel. It seems like they’ve lucked out again, because there isn’t a crowd of screaming girls, and Lu Han and Jongin are able to shoulder their own backpacks and wait in the lobby as their manager checks them in.

“Get a good night’s sleep,” he warns them both, and Lu Han looks like he wants to protest that it’s noon, but Jongin holds his fingers up to his lips and Lu Han grins. Free time is hard to come by these days.

They order their weight in gelato and have pillow fights like teenagers and watch mind numbing Chinese dating shows that have Lu Han cackling and Jongin watching like it’s Animal Planet.

Jongin’s glad there aren’t cameras here to catch the truth of their glamorous lives.

They both start to fall asleep far earlier than expected, both of them curled up in Lu Han’s bed with the covers tangled around their legs, and Jongin thinks, as his eyes shutter closed, that maybe this will all be fun, after all.


***


The first thing Jongin does in China is get sunburn on his neck. They’re walking towards the Olympic Zone, and suddenly Lu Han presses his hand to Jongin’s nape and Lu Han’s fingers feel too cool to be natural.

Lu Han snaps pictures of Jongin’s burn as they walk. “What are you doing?”

“E-mailing Kyungsoo,” Lu Han says. “He told me to make sure you wore sunscreen.”

“But you didn’t,” Jongin says. “Doesn’t that make you accountable?”

“I did tell you to wear an actual shirt, though,” Lu Han says. “I feel like I’ve done my civic duty.”

“Wow, Lu Han, when did you learn the word civic in Korean?” Jongin says sarcastically, crossing his arms as Lu Han slides his phone into his pocket, reaching down to grab his camcorder instead. His neck does hurt already, and he just hopes it’s not going to peel.

“This morning,” Lu Han says, “when I typed my first email to Kyungsoo describing what you were wearing today.”

Jongin scrubs his face with his hands. His shirt is sticking to his skin as they walk through the crowded streets. Lu Han has a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, but otherwise seems unaffected. Jongin takes a grim pleasure in the fact that Lu Han’s hair will be a nightmare in another hour, as it starts to dry. Lu Han turns the camera on his face and Jongin flinches back. “No,” he says, and Lu Han sighs.

“We’re filming, Jongin,” he says. “Let me film you.” Jongin gives him a tiny smile, and Lu Han chuckles as Jongin holds his hands up in a heart that blocks half his face. “How are you today, Kai?” He asks in Mandarin, and Jongin purses his lips in thought.

“It’s too hot,” Jongin replies, careful with his tones, “and I hate everything.” Lu Han snorts and stops recording.

“Well, I guess we can’t use that footage.”

“It’s been five years since the Olympics in Beijing but this all looks pretty new,” Jongin says.

“Five years isn’t that long,” Lu Han says with a shrug, and then he’s running ahead, beckoning Jongin to follow him as the cameramen track their every move. They go to the track area, where Lu Han feigns running the hundred meters, and Jongin just laughs and shakes his head as Lu Han tries to coax him into a race.

Jongin thinks Lu Han looks like a child. Not in a bad way, though… it’s more that Jongin admires that there are so many different sides to Lu Han wrapped up into one person who never fails to surprise him. Jongin admires Lu Han’s ability to express himself without shame.

“We’re not the only people here,” Jongin calls out, and Lu Han runs up to him and pinches his cheeks.

“You need to stop worrying so much what other people think of you,” Lu Han says. “It’s okay to be somewhat conscious, because we’re idols and we’re always on camera,” and he gestures to the cameramen, who are slowly coming closer. Not close enough to hear them talking, yet. “But it’s okay to just… be you, sometimes.”

Jongin pushes his hand through his hair and sighs, and then the cameramen are close enough to hear, and Jongin turns toward them.

“Kai won’t race with me!” Lu Han says to the camera, offering a ‘v’ of victory. “I guess that means I win by default.”

“It means I didn’t race,” Jongin says. “I didn’t want to crush Lu Han in a race, or anything.”

“You sound like duizhang,” Lu Han says. “Careful about that!”

Jongin smirks, and then remembers the camera and tries to school his face into indifference, which earns him an elbow in the ribs from Lu Han. Be you. Right.

The cameramen film them giving their rehearsed spiel about the 2008 Olympics and what it meant for Beijing. Jongin had practiced a hundred times in the mirror this morning, in the hopes that he wouldn’t mess up, but he does, a lot, and Lu Han laughs at him. The last time he does it, he stumbles a bit over the ad-lib bit, and ends up saying. “So yeah, it’s awesome,” instead of “it’s a treasure of China’s modern age.”

When the tape stops rolling, Lu Han laughs so hard he cries. “We are totally not recording that again,” Lu Han says. “It’s perfect.”

“Why not?” Jongin asks. “I promise I can get it right.”

“It’s cuter if you don’t, though,” Lu Han says. “This Jongin… This Kai… He’s cute.” Lu Han isn’t looking at him directly, eyes darting off to the side like he’s taking in the scenery, even though Jongin knows he’s been here before.

“I’m not cute,” Jongin says, and he’s very aware of the sweat pearling on his back and the way his neck is painfully red and the way he’d had a brand new zit pop up along his jaw. “Not right now.”

Lu Han turns his head to stare at Jongin, one eyebrow raised. “Always,” Lu Han says. Lu Han’s gaze is even and steady, eyes wide. Sometimes Jongin finds it unnerving, because it’s like Lu Han is looking through him. There’s that nagging feeling in Jongin’s belly again, too, the one he doesn’t quite understand but only happens when he looks at Lu Han.

“Lame,” Jongin says, and the cameraman laughs, dropping the camera from his shoulder to hold it in his hand by the top handle, and Jongin wonders if the entire exchange has been caught on tape. “Why would you even say that?”

Lu Han wags a finger at him. “Kim Jongin, you always ask the wrong questions.”

“I know, I know,” Jongin says, and not for the first time, Jongin wonders what questions he should have asked.


***


Jongin hates to watch himself on television.

The stage parts… Those are all right, because Jongin is good at that. Jongin’s more than good at that; he’s the best at it, falling into the performance like it’s written in his bones.

It’s everything else he hates, because it seems like it’s the most awkward moments that are saved, edited together into a collage of Jongin’s inadequacy, and Jongin feels embarrassed every single time he watches himself try to hide behind his hands.

Lu Han’s not like that. Lu Han makes the stupidest faces and he doesn’t even care, just laughs and teases and keeps on going. Jongin thinks it’s impossible, the way Lu Han seems so comfortable in front of the camera.

“Why aren’t you ever nervous, on stage?” Jongin asks, and Lu Han raises an eyebrow.

“Wrong question,” Lu Han says, lips curling up at the corners. “We all hide in our own ways.”


***


On their second day of filming, Lu Han guides them through a market. Jongin makes comparisons to somewhat similar markets in Korea, like the ones in Myeongdong, but really what’s being sold isn’t really all that similar.

Jongin keeps getting caught in the crowds, though, and Lu Han, tired of waiting for him, pulls Jongin’s hands up and sets them on his waist. “Hold on,” Lu Han says. “Like a train.”

“Wouldn’t your shoulders have worked?” Jongin says into Lu Han’s ear, and Lu Han shivers a bit. There is a bit of chill in the air, Jongin thinks, as he tightens his grip.

“No,” Lu Han says. “You would have elbowed an old man in the face. You’re too tall.”

The crowd thins, after a while, but Jongin hangs onto Lu Han’s waist anyway. Just in case.


***


On the fifth day of filming, they drive three hours northeast out of Beijing to visit the Simitai section of the Great Wall. Jongin’s seen the Great Wall before, when he came with EXO to China for the first time, after they found out they’d be a group, but that had been the Badaling section, and it had been crowded, probably because it was so close to the city.

But this section is far more abandoned, and the paths are much steeper, and Jongin takes advantage of the limited crowds to film videos of Lu Han’s amazed face and gaping mouth with his camcorder.

The lush greenery surprises Jongin. It’s not anything like the parts of China he’s seen so far, though he admits he hasn’t seen much of China beyond glimpses of cities out his hotel room windows since debut.

He and Lu Han take the hiking path. The cameramen take the cable car, instead, because of the heavy equipment, but he and Lu Han have left their backpacks in the van, and Jongin just has his camcorder. Lu Han is taking photos with his mobile, and Jongin doesn’t mind smiling for them if they’re just for Lu Han.

“Have you been here before?” Jongin asks, and Lu Han nods.

“Once, with my parents, when I was thirteen or so,” Lu Han replies, taking another photo, this time of the landscape. “I don’t remember it being this beautiful.”

“Did your parents take you on a lot of trips?” Jongin asks. His parents had always been busy. They absolutely adored Jongin, but work had often kept them too busy for him. They’d just enrolled him in dance classes to keep him busy. He fingers the bracelet they’d given him, that he always wears around his wrist.

Lu Han is quiet. He’s still taking pictures, but there’s a tension in his shoulders that Jongin doesn’t get.

“I guess,” Lu Han says. His tone doesn’t invite more questions.

By the time they get to the top of the path, the cameramen are waiting for them and Jongin’s clothes are plastered to him with sweat. But Lu Han has also relaxed, smiles coming quickly and easily again as he takes horrible photos of Jongin that he’s no doubt forwarding to the entirety of EXO. Jongin bets that Chanyeol will set the worst one as his laptop background no matter how hard Baekhyun tries to talk him out of it. Wu Fan will probably just be relieved it’s not whatever sketchy picture Chanyeol had taken of him before Jongin and Lu Han had left for China.

The view is breathtaking. Jongin looks out and can’t help but grin at just how pretty it is. Lu Han is behind him, talking to the camera, and Jongin spins around to do his part. He visualizes the words on the flashcard he and Lu Han had practiced on the drive down, and the words come easier this time.

“Better,” Lu Han says, and Jongin grins.

“Yeah,” he says, letting a smug smile pull at his lips. Lu Han chuckles.

“Vain,” he says, and Jongin looks down at him, and gets caught up in how the wind is blowing Lu Han’s hair, and the faint redness of exertion in his cheeks that Jongin can see now that Lu Han isn’t covered in make-up.

“We’re all vain,” Jongin says. “At least a little. We’re idols.”

“You make a good point,” Lu Han says, and Jongin means to look back at the scenery but something about Lu Han is impossible to turn away from.

***


The second week in China passes much more slowly than the first. Jongin’s not sure why, since everything is just as new, but it might have something to do with the way Lu Han seems to be creeping steadily closer into his personal space.

Maybe, Jongin thinks, Lu Han’s always been in Jongin’s space like this, but Jongin’s just noticing it now. The way that Lu Han tugs on his sleeve to get his attention, or the way that Lu Han presses back against his chest as they watch television. The way that Lu Han curves his body toward Jongin as he leans up to murmur translations in his ear.

“This is the animal in its native habitat,” Lu Han says, holding the camcorder up to Jongin’s face. “Look at him, left to his own devices.” Jongin tries to hide his big bag of potato chips, but Lu Han is faster.

“Let me at least have privacy in my own room,” Jongin pleads, and Lu Han cackles.

“I told you I was going to film you all the time,” Lu Han says, and he straddles Jongin on the bed, and Jongin is so distracted by the feel of Lu Han’s knees pressing into his thighs that he forgets to protest.

“Stop,” he says feebly, and pushes Lu Han away. He feels weird—really weird, and he brings his hand up to his chest to grab at the fabric.

“All right,” Lu Han says, and he sounds strangely short of breath.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Jongin says.

When he gets out, he opens the door to clear the steam, wrapping a towel around his waist. Lu Han comes in, picking up his floss as Jongin picks up his moisturizer. He leans over, shoulder brushing Jongin’s bare arm, and Jongin is more aware than he should be of the soft feel of that cotton against his skin.

“Do you have to stand so close?” Jongin snaps, as he applies his moisturizer, smoothing it across his nose and cheeks with clean fingertips, and Lu Han puffs out his cheeks for a moment in thought.

“You’re asking the wrong question again,” Lu Han sing-songs, but Jongin thinks he sees a little bit of hurt in Lu Han’s eyes. He clutches a handful of Lu Han’s shirt as Lu Han starts to walk out of the bathroom. Jongin looks at their reflections in the large hotel mirror instead of at Lu Han, and the downward slope of Lu Han’s lips makes Jongin feel horribly guilty.

It isn’t really Lu Han’s fault that Jongin is out of sorts. It’s Jongin’s fault. “I don’t really mind,” Jongin says softly, and he can see Lu Han’s eyelashes flutter in the mirror. “I like it, actually. It’s just…” That it’s horribly confusing, Jongin completes in his mind, and he licks his lips. “That I’m really tired tonight. I’m sorry.”

Lu Han turns around, and at least, Jongin thinks, that wounded look has disappeared. “Don’t take it out on me, then,” Lu Han says. “I’ll forgive you, this time.”

“Thanks,” Jongin says, throat dry, and then he’s alone in the bathroom, trying to calm his racing pulse.


***


They head to the Temple of Heaven. Jongin can see it against the skyline, bright and clear, and he barely pays attention as Lu Han pays the 35 RMB apiece it costs for the four of them to enter the temple. Once inside, Jongin drags Lu Han around by the wrist, almost managing to ignore the cameras as they chat excitedly.

The cameramen corral them to the side for a moment, to make them film an informational section, which they do in formal Korean, which makes Jongin feel dumb because he, like Sehun, tries to avoid formal Korean whenever possible. Still, it's worth it to watch Lu Han struggle to conjugate in the formal in his head on the spot, and Lu Han stomps on his foot as Jongin's lips twitch.

"Meanie," he says, when the cameramen lower the two cameras, and Jongin chuckles.

"Just getting my revenge," Jongin says. "For my Mandarin fail the other day."

"Whatever," Lu Han says, fluffing Jongin's hair as Jongin hisses at him and pulls away.

There's a soft scream behind them, and Jongin's stomach drops. "We've been recognized, haven't we?" He asks miserably, and Lu Han nods, and smiles.

"But it's just a couple of girls," he says, pulling his sunglasses down over his face. "And they seem like they aren't going to bother us. Just probably follow and take pictures with their mobiles."

"Okay," Jongin says, and to his surprise, Lu Han's comforting hand on his elbow really does help him forget. Jongin's just been enjoying the anonymity for once. He'd known, when he signed with SM, that it was going to be crazy, but he hadn't really known just how crazy. He'd never known exactly what to expect.

They wander around the temple, Lu Han going into his backpack to pull out his own camcorder, and he turns it so he can film them both. "Kai and I are at the Temple of Heaven," Lu Han says into the camera, pulling faces that make him look so young. "A place of great history."

More people gather when he and Lu Han do another introduction, about Ming Emperor Yongle, but it's more because of the cameras than because of Lu Han and Jongin in particular.

"Our fans don't know we're here," Lu Han reminds him. "So just enjoy the sights."

"I am!" Jongin says. "All these times I've come to China, and it's like I'm seeing it all for the first time with you." Jongin shoves his hands in his pockets. "Wouldn't rather have seen it with anyone else," he mumbles, and then feels mortified, because that's such a sappy thing to say.

"Really?" Lu Han says, and Jongin chances a glance over at him, and Lu Han is looking at him, eyes heavy with emotions Jongin can't quite read. That's no surprise, since Jongin's not really an expert on emotions. "I'm not your best friend." There's no bitterness or jealousy in Lu Han's tone, that Jongin can discern, but there is a question.

"No, you're not," Jongin says, and he presses his lips together for a moment, trying to gather words. "You're my best something, though."

"Your best something, huh?" Lu Han muses. "I'll take that."

And then he's waving the cameramen toward another side of the temple, and they're once again roaming the circular mounds, laughing and posing and telling lame jokes to the camera, and Jongin feels light.

Lu Han takes a picture of Jongin giving a half-hearted peace sign in front of the main building, probably sending Jongin’s embarrassed face to Minseok. Jongin takes a picture of his shoes with his own rental phone, because it feels like his own new tradition to send those to Sehun.

When they leave, Jongin’s once again trailing behind Lu Han, following the shorter man out the gate, cameramen at their heels.

Lu Han knowledgeably leads them through the streets, ducking around pedestrians. Jongin follows him nimbly, laughing a little to himself as their two cameramen for the day swear as they get a bit caught up in the crush of the crowds. He can still see the Temple of Heaven behind them when he looks back, its three dark circular roofs striking against the blue sky.

Lu Han slows just enough for Jongin to catch him, looking over his shoulder with a quick grin when Jongin snags his shirt. The cameramen, one with his camera low and off, the other with his perched on his shoulder in a way that looks super uncomfortable, catch up too, and the four of them cut a path through the crowd as Jongin makes exclamations of awe at Lu Han about parts of the city. Lu Han slows down enough to tell anecdotes or facts about this part of the city, in half-Korean and half-Mandarin, Jongin translating when he can. Between the two of them, he thinks the explanations are pretty coherent.

Lu Han’s eyes catch on a restaurant, and Jongin’s eyes follow his gaze. So do the camera guys, who start ushering them toward it since Lu Han seems to recognize it. Lu Han, at first, doesn’t move toward it, but the camera is rolling, and Lu Han is nothing if not professional.

“Do you know this place, hyung?” Jongin asks, conscious of the camera, and speaking clearly for the benefit of viewers, although he’d rather just ask Lu Han, since something seems off.

He looks up, and there’s nothing strange about the place. It seems rather old, and Jongin can read the sign. Zhajiang mian, it says, and Jongin’s eyebrows rise. In Korea, black bean noodles are one of the most popular take out dishes you can get, and Jongin has seen Lu Han devour them before, no questions asked.

“My parents used to bring me here when I was kid,” Lu Han says, and he smiles hollowly at the camera. Jongin can tell it’s fake, because Lu Han’s real smile is like the sun after rain, and this is anything but that. But Jongin clears his throat, and pastes on his own smile.

“So what do you recommend to eat?” Jongin asks, and Lu Han looks up at him in surprise.

“My favorite has always been the chicken and chilies,” he says, and Jongin looks at the cameraman and pulls the focus toward himself.

“Okay,” he says. “Today Kai will try ordering the food from Lu Han’s childhood restaurant. A real Beijing version of jjajangmyun.”

Jongin stumbles through ordering, while Lu Han laughs at him, and generally makes a fool out of himself, but it’s worth it, because the camera zooms in on him more than Lu Han, whose eyes are shadowed in a way that make it feel like there’s a stone in Jongin’s gut.

The food doesn’t taste like anything—he vaguely thinks it’s good, but he’s putting so much energy into putting on a good show he forgets to really pay attention.

When the segment is finished, one of the camera guys remarks on Jongin’s energy, and how he had been pleasantly surprised, but Jongin is more concerned with Lu Han’s blank face. It’s uncharacteristic of him, and Jongin needs to know why he looks so… empty.

“Excuse us for a minute,” Jongin says, interrupting the cameraman mid-sentence, not even worried about being rude. He grabs Lu Han by his upper arm and pulls, and Lu Han follows him without much resistance as Jongin leads them over to the side of the restaurant, into a semi-alley that takes them out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. “What happened?”

“What?”

“You just… you went cold. It was scary.”

“Oh,” Lu Han says. “I’m sorry.” He pushes his bangs out of his face, and frowns.

“I don’t… You don’t have to apologize,” Jongin says, wrapping one arm around himself, eyes darting to the right. “I just. I… don’t know…” His tongue trips and stumbles over itself, and he chances a look at Lu Han, whose eyes are wide.

“You’re worried about me?” And there, a little bit of life creeps back into Lu Han’s eyes, even if it’s only to laugh at Jongin’s inability to express himself.

“No,” Jongin mutters, biting down on his lower lip and wrinkling his nose. “Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t,” Lu Han says. “It’s nothing.”

“It isn’t,” Jongin blurts. “Your smile is… it’s so bright, but today it’s…” Jongin sighs, and digs his toe into the ground.

“This restaurant is one I used to go to as a kid,” Lu Han says, and Jongin’s head jerks up. Now Lu Han is looking at the ground, and his hands are in his pockets. “I was thinking of the good memories I have here, and then I remembered that my parents don’t talk to me anymore.”

“Lu Han,” Jongin says, and his throat is dry. He has no idea what to say; it’s not like he ever does, but this is worse because he knows he’s supposed to say something but the words just won’t come. “I’m…”

“They didn’t even come to our showcase,” Lu Han says. “My dream was coming true and they couldn’t be even a little bit happy for me.” His voice is low, and somber, and there’s no mischief there. There’s none of the flippancy Jongin is used to, and maybe that chills Jongin more than anything else, because Lu Han’s always so good at pretending not to be fazed.

Jongin remembers that. He remembered thinking it was strange, but he’d been afraid to ask then, not sure if Lu Han would want to talk about it all, let alone with him. “They supported me,” Lu Han had said woodenly, and Jongin had wanted to rest a hand on his shoulder.

Lu Han seems to realize he’s said more than he’d meant to, because he looks up suddenly, and stares at Jongin, and Jongin licks his lips and clears his throat.

“Ah,” Lu Han says, and blinks twice, and that ugly fake smile forces its way back onto his face, and Jongin hates it so much he could scream. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

Jongin hugs him. He doesn’t think about the fact that they’re in public, or that it’s embarrassing to be hugging another boy on a public street, even if they’re tucked away in an alley where most people won’t see. Lu Han freezes, and Jongin just keeps hugging him, even as his face starts a slow burn of shame. Lu Han slowly relaxes into it, his arms coming up to wrap around Jongin’s waist, fingers gripping the material of Jongin’s t-shirt.

Lu Han nestles his face into the hollow of Jongin’s neck, and Jongin can feel the soft whisper of air across the sweat-sticky skin there, and Lu Han’s lips brush his bared shoulder where the neck of his shirt is too wide. Lu Han’s arms around him are tight, suddenly, like he’s needed this hug for a while, and Jongin just holds on, because he’s not sure if Lu Han will fall apart if he lets go.

“It’s all right,” Jongin says, and he gets a mouthful of Lu Han’s hair, which is fluffy and frizzy from the humidity, but it doesn’t matter, Jongin thinks, as they stand there for maybe another minute before Lu Han reluctantly pulls back. His eyes are suspiciously bright, but Jongin suspects his own are, too, so he doesn’t mention it.

“Thank you,” Lu Han says, and when he smiles this time, it’s a little more real, and Jongin’s stomach does this strange squeeze, like maybe he’d eaten something he wasn’t supposed to. He brings a palm up and rests it flat on his stomach, but it doesn’t seem to help. He swallows, and his throat is impossibly dry.

“You don’t have to be…” Jongin coughs, and turns his back to Lu Han, and tries to find the words. “It’s okay, you know, if you have… If something’s bothering you. You have friends.” Lu Han grabs his wrist, and Jongin looks up in surprise, and Lu Han’s looking at him like he’s just done something amazing instead of like he’d just tried and failed to participate in basic human interaction. “You have me,” he finishes, and Lu Han’s smile is so bright Jongin forgets to be mortified.

Lu Han laces their fingers together, and Jongin can feel Lu Han’s steady, strong pulse where their palms touch. “Maybe you’re not a kid, after all,” Lu Han says, and he doesn’t let go of Jongin’s hand, not even when the cameras start rolling again. They walk through the streets like that, and Jongin feels strange, and kind of nauseous, but it’s okay, he guesses, as long as Lu Han keeps smiling just like that.

That night, after Lu Han’s finally finished his evening ablutions, turned the lights out, and climbed into bed, Jongin turns on his side to face Lu Han’s bed. He can’t see anything, but he can hear Lu Han’s covers shift, and he looks in the general direction, and imagines he can see Lu Han there, covers up under his chin and knees pulled up to his chest like he always sleeps.

“Do you ever…” Jongin starts to say, before he catches his lower lip in his teeth and frowns. “Never mind.”

“Do I ever what?” Lu Han asks, in his soothing, lilting Korean that Jongin can always pick out in a crowd.

Jongin takes a deep breath. “Do you ever wish you’d… become a doctor or something. So your family would…”

Lu Han is silent, and Jongin waits, hands clenched into the bed sheets as he listens to the noise outside; the sounds of people who will be awake far later into the night than either of them.

“Sometimes, when I’m really exhausted, and lonely,” Lu Han admits. “Sometimes, then, I wonder what it would be like if I had chosen to do something else.” Jongin picks up the gentlest sigh. “But…”

“But?”

“But then I remember that this is what I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve always wanted to be a singer. The thrill of being on stage…” Lu Han’s voice is passionate, and it sounds like music to Jongin, who is listening carefully. “You know.”

“I do,” Jongin says, because the thrill of being on stage is what makes Jongin Kai, even though Jongin is just a shy kid who can’t even answer the simplest questions without feeling just the tiniest bit afraid. Jongin knows all too well the heady rush of spotlights, and how it can make you soar.

“And,” Lu Han says, and Jongin can hear him turning onto his side, too, to speak in Jongin’s direction, “I have my other family.” It’s like Jongin can hear Lu Han smile, and it makes him feel weirdly giddy. “How can I regret you guys?”

“Obviously,” Jongin says. “We’re too cool to regret. Especially me.” Jongin flushes as he says it, and Lu Han chuckles.

“Especially you,” Lu Han says dryly. “The expert on cool.”

“Don’t think I can’t hear your sarcasm,” Jongin says, and Lu Han snorts and flops over in bed, loudly, and Jongin’s heart is beating quickly, and he doesn’t feel cool at all.



part ii