rustle | exo: you will never sleep alone

you will never sleep alone
— Suho/Lu Han. NC-17. 17000 words.
— In the span of a year, Joonmyun loses two things: a co-leader when Kris asks for his contract to be terminated, and a portion of his sanity and his heart when Lu Han turns occasional late night talks into regular heart-to-heart sessions.
— Written for

kpop_olymfics 2015. Originally posted HERE .

It's already past one in the morning when Lu Han shows up on the doorstep of Joonmyun's hotel room.

"Hey," comes Lu Han's slurred greeting, in his best English accent that he screws up with a hiccup. The dark curls of his bangs stick to his forehead, the tips drawing Joonmyun's gaze to the pimples on his cheeks. They're glowing a fierce, angry shade of red. His lips are too pink, chapped. There's a sliver of blood there, probably from Lu Han worrying his bottom lip too much. He smells like sweat and smoke and liquor on a Friday night he won't want to remember twelve hours after. Or even the next hour, when Lu Han passes out on the La-Z Boy instead of in the Joonmyun's bed. On a normal day, Joonmyun would fuss and worry about the very little time they had to make things right, retouch Lu Han's make up, make sure the fans couldn't smell the tequilla in his breath, but it's already past midnight. They aren't performing in front of hundreds, thousands of people until some eighteen, twenty hours after. They aren't in Korea. He isn't rooming with any of the managers. Everyone else is probably enjoying their separate lives, the last few hours they have to themselves before having to convene again at the breakfast table to be a unit. They need those, the few moments of respite to be acquainted once more with who they are, not who they're supposed to be. A base they can return to every so often just to remind themselves that they don't have to be perfect all the time.

So instead of saying man, you really screwed up this time, when will you ever learn, Joonmyun says, "You're drunk."

"Yeah," Lu Han admits, completely remorseless, then saunters forward. He makes it past the door and the fridge with very minimal effort, but ends up tripping on his own feet just a few inches from Joonmyun's luggage. He grumbles. He doesn't ask for help. It's not as if Joonmyun intended to offer a hand. Lu Han's the type of person who'd look as if he needed assistance and would be very grateful to receive it, thank you very much, but resent it once it's given. It makes him feel weak, helpless. Like the pretty princess of Beijing that some fans make him out to be.

He looks like a drunken prince right now. Joonmyun doesn't say it out loud. Instead, he asks, "Where did you go this time?"

Lu Han blinks a few times. He looks around him – the mostly made up bed, the lone luggage on the floor. At Joonmyun just a few feet away, handing him a bottle of water instead of a hand to help him get up. His body gives a tiny jerk, like it's finally caught up with him – where he is, where he shouldn't be, Joonmyun just within an arm's reach that if Lu Han ever needed someone to steady him as he tried to get back to his feet then all he had to do was to ask. At his palms burning a bright shade of red before reaching out to grab the bottle from Joonmyun's grip.

"Home. With a couple of friends." Lu Han snatches the water bottle and uncaps it. Throws the plastic wrap straight into the trash can but misses by a few centimeters. He groans. "They said they missed me, asked when they'd see me again. I mean, it's been a while since I've been home. You'd think the weekly Skype sessions would be enough, but no."

It's never enough. The week after SM broke the news to them that they're debuting in less than a year, they spent more than twelve hours a day in the same goddamned practice room. The week after that leading up to recording, they'd almost made a home out of SM already. After some time, Kyungsoo started bringing a week's worth of clothes for practicality purposes. Also, because 'that Baekhyun kid' wouldn't stop borrowing his clothes after practice. Everyone was missing someone. Joonmyun missed himself more than anything else. Those very few minutes of rest that they were given, Joonmyun used to call his parents, to talk to his brother. To ask him, "Hyung, do you think it's worth it? All seven years of hard work?" You regret pursuing certain dreams sometimes. This was one of those instances. But Lu Han always seemed to have that magic word for 'debut' dancing on the tip of his tongue, on the jut of his bottom lip. It was infectious. So instead of making that call Joonmyun stuck with Lu Han, looked at him for inspiration. Told himself, I'll be like him someday.

Jongin called it a 'serious mancrush'. Baekhyun called it 'love'. Lu Han didn't call it anything, but at one point he did shy away like Joonmyun had done more than just look at him and watch him from the sidelines. Management caught wind of it and played around that, using it as a marketing tool. After a while, Lu Han started knocking on Joonmyun's door at obscene hours, asking for a bit of his time. Joonmyun gave him two hours and a gentle squeeze on the arm. Lu Han gave him a kiss on the cheek in return. It had been a downward spiral from there on.

"So why are you still here?" Joonmyun asks Lu Han now. He asked himself that a lot, back in the day. Nowadays, he just looks at himself in the mirror and asks, who are you? "I mean, you could've just gone back tomorrow, spent the night at your friend's place or something."

Lu Han takes a deep breath. He laughs a little. He takes a long swig of the water before resufacing, like he's so close to getting rid of the alcohol in his body. It won't be going away anytime soon, though. "Figured I'd make the most out of my last day here," he says. His voice cracks somewhere in the middle. In the hollow cavity of Joonmyun's chest, he feels himself bleeding. "With you guys."

Joonmyun gulps hard. Lu Han lifts his eyebrows as if saying, go ahead, it's alright. You can say anything; I can take it. But what else is there to be said? Lu Han has already made a decision. His health situation isn't getting any better. His bottom lip is trembling from where he's caught it between his teeth. It's their last day in Beijing. It only makes sense for Lu Han to stay. So Joonmyun nods, inches away, then settles on the foot of his bed, his legs dangling off the edge.

A few seconds after, Lu Han joins him. When he looks to his side, at Lu Han, he finds nothing but a shadow of that old sparkle that was once in him. Lu Han's lips are pulled up in a tight smile. His eyes are no longer red-rimmed. And Lu Han is dancing his fingers to where Joonmyun is, drawing lazy circles on Joonmyun's thigh. Joonmyun rests his palm atop Lu Han's own, trapping it there as a last ditch effort to keep Lu Han where he is. And they link their ankles there in silence, watching the hands of the clock tick until they fall asleep.

♫

The first time Lu Han ever expressed intent to leave was a year into being with EXO. He'd said it as a joke, as he limped from one side of the practice room to another and gripped the frame of the door tight before leaving. It was another one of those six-hour dance sessions where they'd have to learn new choreography and nail it by the end of the day. On the up side, they'd graduated from promoting Wolf already. The downside was always fatigue. Kyungsoo liked to look at it as a way to salvage themselves from having to sing about having insatiable thirst for a girl while scratching their torso.

"Hey, I liked 'Wolf'," Lu Han called out after Kyungsoo, his face scrunched up. In disapproval for Kyungsoo or in pain, Joonmyun couldn't tell. Lu Han was still limping, after all, after twisting his ankle. Kris had an arm around his shoulder, his big left hand covering the jut of Lu Han's bone. To Joonmyun, Lu Han said, "If you don't kick him out, I'm leaving this group forever and I'm never seeing you guys again."

"Alright, alright. Enough," Kris had said then, and dragged Lu Han outside the room. Lu Han chased after Kyungsoo's gaze by holding up his middle finger and sticking out his tongue in Kyungsoo's direction.

The thing was, it wasn't the first time Joonmyun ever heard rumors about Lu Han wanting to leave. Jongin walked up to him before, saying he walked in on Kris and Lu Han talking about something in hushed voices. Mentioned something about contract termination and unfair treatment and 'I got an acting offer back in China and I really want to give it a shot.' Jongin said it was Kris who'd said that. Kris was even grinning from ear to ear, according to Jongin. It didn't require too much imagination. Kris was quick to excite, quick to gain everyone's respect with his commanding aura and his towering figure. Now, throw a rat in his direction and he'd scream and scurry to hide behind the person closest to him. Then he'd earn everyone's adoration, as well.

Kris may not be the best of dancers or the most confident of singers, but he had a face people would die for. Joonmyun felt that sometimes, the insane urge to rip that mask off of Kris' face to see if it would fit his own. Wear Kris' face over the one he was born with and see if he could earn love, adoration, and respect just as quickly because he was wearing Kris on the outside.

And Lu Han... Lu Han had a lot of things going for him. He was a good dancer, a great singer. He was handsome in a way that wasn't overwhelming. His charm would creep up on you and wrap itself around your heart, try to stop it from beating until you couldn't breathe anymore. And then he'd flash you that smile, the one that made him ten times more attractive than he already was. He was a complete package. He was a talent any entertainment company would want to snatch from SM. And he carried the weight of the hopes of all the Chinese trainees in SM, each and every single fiber of faith they still had in them that they'd debut someday.

That was the only thing tying him down to SM – the promises, the friendships he's made. And Lu Han wasn't exactly the type to just... try to break them at the first sign of an open door at the back of the SM building. He wasn't that kind of guy.

Lu Han and Kris returned to the practice room ten minutes after. They smelled like smoke and banana uyuu. Lu Han wasn't wearing a bandage around his ankle.

From beside Joonmyun, Jongin poked him in his side. In his most inconspicuous way, Jongin mouthed at him, 'I told you, hyung.'

Months passed. The repackage for 'XOXO' dropped. The practice video for 'Growl' was 'leaked'. Joonmyun watched as the number of views and upvotes rose by the second, with every breath he took. In a two weeks, they'd go on to win a mutizen for it. In a few months, they'd win Album of the Year and the honor of being the youngest group to win the award in years. They were riding the wave of all their hard work and the love from their fans. There was no reason for either Kris or Lu Han to leave, not with all the success they'd been getting. As an act of rebellion against the fear he once had, after delivering his acceptance speech, he reached for Kris' hand in the crowd, and then Lu Han's. Pulled them closer to him and gripped them tighter.

"Not going anywhere," Lu Han had whispered in his ear between sobs and chuckles. Kris was a sobbing mess. And Joonmyun couldn't believe he even thought these two friends of his would ever leave him – them – behind. "We're never gonna leave."

♯

Jongin was right. Kris is an asshole, was Joonmyun's first text to Jonghyun. Five minutes and a pep talk with the rest of the members after, he'd changed it to, We have an opening here. How does SHINEEXO sound?

horrible, was Jonghyun's helpful reply, followed by a call not too long after. Joonmyun had declined it, explaining that he had a lot of things to do. "Leader stuff. You know, the stuff Kris dumped on me when he decided to leave." Managing six boys was already difficult, as it was. He didn't have Kris' commanding presence, and neither did he have the capacity to give the boys a stern look that would draw out the most powerful fear from them. They knew how to show respect for Joonmyun, yes, but Kris' management style was different. He spent more time with the EXO-M kids. Joonmyun... tried to text everyone as much as he could. His Mandarin wasn't the best, but Zitao was kind enough to offer to correct his Madarin texts before sending them out. Somehow, he was always trying to reach out to the other side of the group, trying to connect with them, whereas Kris just drew everyone to him and sat them down for a nice, easy chat. No biggie.

Three soft knocks on the door, then he finally pushed himself off the chair. Maybe it was Zitao offering to translate the statement he had to give to the media in a few hours. Or maybe it was Jongin, ready to offer him a hug. He took a deep breath, then, padding to the door with heavy feet, and gave the knob a slick twist before swinging it open.

"Yo," Lu Han greeted. He had half a bottle of soju in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. The smile on his lips was tense, if not forced. His bottom lip was trembling. And the shirt he's wearing looked as if it had seen better days. "We're going to draft your statement and ease those tense nerves," he said, then tucked the pack under his arm. He curled his fingers around Joonmyun's wrist. His fingers were cold. "C'mon, we don't have all day."

His phone sounded off. it'll pass. gl with leader stuff. ik how hard it can be, Jonghyun said, ending with a plethora of sad emoticons. Joonmyun replied with a quick huhuhu and couldn't get his smileys right until they reached the balcony, until Lu Han let him go and let him breathe.

There was nothing but silence for a few good minutes. Lu Han sat on the floor with his legs crossed and both the bottle and the pack resting on his thighs. From his shirt pocket, a tiny sheet of paper was peeking. Where was the pen? "I was kidding. You looked like you could use a break," he said after a while, pulling out a stick and running his thumb along the wheel of his lighter. "I mean, you've been taking calls left and right for the past two hours. I'd go crazy if that ever happened to me."

What makes you think I'm not, he wanted to ask. He didn't. Instead, he sat beside Lu Han and closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. He reached for the bottle of soju and poised his palm on the cover. "I didn't think he'd actually do it."

It was stupid to think that way, Joonmyun knew, but ever since that big fight back in 2013, Kris hadn't disappeared to Wherever Land only to resurface in the dorms the morning after like nothing happened. He was looking better. He was laughing more. He'd been getting in touch with his friends and regularly chatting with them. SM had given them a fucking break, for Christ's sake! SHINee didn't get that until two years after debut, until SM was sure SHINee had already hit ROI and was profitable enough a group. They were eating three times a day and were given the luxury of sleeping five, six hours every other day. They were luckier than most groups. Heck, they had to be the luckiest SM group in a century.

And yet they woke up this morning without a trace of Kris in the dorms but a sticky note tacked to the center of the dining table. sorry, the message read in Kris' horrible handwriting. If Kris wanted to waste a Post-it on a message like that then he should've just rounded everyone up and dropped the bomb before turning on his heel to leave.

"Same," Lu Han mumbled. He wiggled his toes. It was spring in earnest now. The winds were more tolerable than they were back in winter. "I mean, just before the concert. I didn't think–"

"–he'd be that much of an asshole–"

"–he'd give up everything we've worked hard for and leave us like that."

Same thing, Joonmyun wanted to say. Lu Han just said it in a nicer, better manner. He was saving up all his energy for the performance later and the possible – inevitable – interview after it. He could leave all the niceties to Lu Han for now. But he had to get accustomed to his old Suho suit again, start wearing it and see if the make up stains went well with the practiced smile, the steady gaze, the polite manner of speaking. He had to make sure he wouldn't screw anything up.

Still, he said, "Yeah, that," and shifted in his seat. He folded his legs under his weight and took a deep breath. "I don't know what to do. We have a week left 'til the concert and all the VCRs have been shot and everything's already in place and–"

"You still smoke?" Lu Han asked, disrupting his train of thought completely. Joonmyun could hear him playing with the lighter again. If he didn't stop then he might set himself on fire. Maybe Joonmyun should do that, instead. "Hey, answer me: do you still smoke?"

Joonmyun opened his eyes, looked to his side, looked at Lu Han. Lu Han was dangerously close, close enough that he could make out the beginnings of a stubble on Lu Han's skin, the faint markings of a pimple here and there. Battle scars in the form of dark circles under his eyes and some other blemishes on his skin. And Lu Han was leaning even closer. This was how trouble began, he mused – something bad happens and someone gets too close. You allow yourself to be a bit too vulnerable. And you allow yourself to break. The worst Lu Han could do right now was to kiss him, though, knowing that sometimes Joonmyun wondered how things would've gone differently if they were a co-ed group. If Lu Han was a girl and he wore shirts that exposed his legs half the time. If you could date anyone from the group, who would it be? They got asked those questions a lot, and Joonmyun's reply had always been consistent – that one time he saw Lu Han wearing a wig? He thought 'she' was pretty and almost got a boner from it (Jongin's words, not his).

The best Lu Han could do was stuff that cigarette stick between his lips already so Joonmyun wouldn't have to worry about not being allowed to kiss him anymore. He gulped hard. There were more pressing things to attend to, like the very little time they had left to prepare for M! Countdown, the words he had to say. Kris leaving the group a week before the concert was about to start and having to rework everything they'd already polished, try to get back on their feet again as an eleven-man team.

"Nah, I don't. Not in the past few months," Joonmyun replied after a while. He moved to his side, an inch away from Lu Han. Lu Han followed. He kept his eyes on his toes. Ditching smoking was the only way SM would give him more parts, more songs to sing. Maybe even a solo. It was hard to have to duke it out with more able, more talented singers in the group. So he had to make things easier for himself somehow. "Which is good, I guess. I've been sounding better recently. More–" More like a singer, less like a trainee fresh out of auditions. Less of the man he used to be when Lu Han wasn't getting too chummy, too close yet, and the only person who knew about his misplaced boner was himself. "Why?"

"I guess you're taking the soju, then," Lu Han replied. He poised the stick between his lips, the pink flesh wrapping around in the most obscene way possible. And here he thought Baekhyun already made everything, including doing laundry, look sensual. Maybe Lu Han was just a contender, but it wasn't as if he'd been watching Lu Han for a while already. He hadn't. Lu Han just happened to be at the right place at the right time, at the same time as Joonmyun.

Lu Han lit the stick, a sliver of smoke escaping from the tip. He took a deep breath, held it right there, at the center of his chest, where he felt fullest, then blew out the smoke in a steady stream. Sort of like how he'd run his hand up and down Minseok's back whenever Minseok overextended himself, or the way he'd nod his head to whatever Yixing was saying even if he had other things to do. "Unless you want to split? You can get a couple of puffs. Just let me know."

"Nah, I'm good," Joonmyun mumbled. He looked at the bottle. It was too tempting. He needed a temporary way to numb himself. Chugging soju down seemed like a quick fix. "Do you mind?"

"All yours," Lu Han said, laughing a little. He pressed the bottle to Joonmyun's cheek, then added, "Uh, wait. Leave me some?"

Joonmyun nodded. He reached up, giving the bottom of the bottle a lazy tug before pulling it all the way down. Lu Han's fingers were no longer cold. Or maybe they were, but Joonmyun's fingers were even cooler than that of Lu Han's. They were still wound around the bottle tightly. Lu Han wouldn't let go. If this was a euphemism for what Kris just did then fuck Lu Han, really, but his lips were drawn to a squiggly line. The tight knot of his eyebrows had eased considerably. His eyes were empty, mostly, but Joonmyun could see himself reflected in them. So maybe Lu Han was the one who needed company, was the one who needed a script. He was the de facto leader now, and pretty soon Joonmyun'd be turning over some of those responsibility shit Kris left with him to Lu Han. So he stayed there a little longer, pressed his hand on Lu Han's own until he felt Lu Han's hand twitch. It was as if everything was slowly hitting him – the burning stick between his lips, the smoke making Joonmyun's face hazy. The cool slide of their hands and the perspiration of the soju bottle dripping to their thighs pressed side to side. The very little time they had to spare before they had to step on stage again, answer questions. Be on their best idol behavior.

"Are you going to let me drink or what?" Joonmyun asked after a while.

Lu Han snorted. Blew a small puff of smoke in Joonmyun's direction before pulling away. He rested his hand on Joonmyun's thigh, tracing lazy circles on it as he flicked off some of the ash in the stick with his other hand. Lu Han's cheeks were red. He hadn't even had a drink yet. So Joonmyun took a long swig of the soju then held it up in Lu Han's direction, hoping the alcohol would help still the thumping in his chest, fizzle out the sparks setting off at the tips of his fingers. Silence the voices at the back of his head saying, he's gonna leave you, too, someday, Joonmyun. Don't take sides just yet. Don't give in.

Still, Joonmyun couldn't stop from letting a gasp slip from his lips when Lu Han leaned in too close, pressing a soft kiss to a corner of his mouth. Lu Han did that sometimes, kiss people when he was too happy or had too many emotions running through his veins that he couldn't contain them anymore. All on the cheek, though. Never on the lips. In a last ditch effort to hide the push and pull of a grin and something else surfacing on his lips, he gulped down the rest of the soju, not leaving any for Lu Han. Not giving Lu Han another opportunity to sneak in a tiny kiss as he stood from where he was and got back on his feet, slipping right back inside the dorms so he could breathe.

♯

("You're panicking. In your mind. I can hear you, hyung," Kyungsoo mumbled one time. Chanyeol was still in the living room with Jongin and Sehun, probably playing whatever game they fancied at the moment. Joonmyun could hear a small sound of triumph from Kyungsoo's phone – he was playing, too. He was the only one with nothing to do but to think. "Go on. Spill."

Joonmyun took a deep breath. There was still an unread and unanswered text on his phone, one from Lu Han dated just a few minutes ago and saying, yixing n i r drinking but he fell asleep on me already. want soju??? A year ago, he would've probably said yes in a heartbeat, slipped from under his covers and out of his room to spare some time with his bandmates. Bonding sessions with the M group were hard to come by, after all. But things were different now: Kris was gone. They were promoting as a group of 11 for the next few weeks, maybe even months. He had to keep a group of eleven together somehow, like he was a single dad working to feed his ten children. He had to face the cameras not looking like all the gods were conspiring against him. He needed to be the perfect leader not only for the group but also for himself.

And he could still feel the warmth of Lu Han's lips on a corner of his mouth, could still feel the vibrations of Lu Han's laughter on his skin. The lurching sensation in his stomach hadn't stilled yet. And the desire to ball his hands into fists in Lu Han's shirt all the fucking time seemed nigh impossible to ignore.

"I feel weird," he began. He crawled next to Kyungsoo, plopping down beside him on the bed and leaning his head on Kyungsoo's shoulder. Kyungsoo hadn't stopped playing his game – who even plays Candy Crush these days – yet. "Everything's weird. Out of place. Sort of. And–"

"And you're too hard on yourself," Kyungsoo murmured. He tilted his head to the side, resting it against Joonmyun's own. This was one of Kyungsoo's more subtle ways of letting people know that he was worried about them. "It's okay to feel things, hyung. I mean, you're human. I makes sense to feel something."

"I'm sad," Joonmyun confessed.

"Congratulations, you're normal," Kyungsoo replied. He laughed a little, then nudged Joonmyun in his side. "Is that all?"

There were legalities to deal with, press conferences to attend and statements to be given. Their tour was ongoing, they had a lot of things to do. And Lu Han hadn't stopped looking at him like he was telling Joonmyun that he remembered everything, down to that last bit where Joonmyun licked the corners of his mouth and almost touched Lu Han's lips with his tongue. Joonmyun shook his head. People did stupid things sometimes, when they were sad and lonely and afraid to be whittled down to bite-sized pieces for other people to consume. They were a bit too vulnerable that time. Lu Han was sad. Joonmyun was, too. And when you put two sad people together, they'd be the worst disaster ever. Joonmyun should never agree to drinking with Lu Han ever again.

"Yeah, that's it," Joonmyun mumbled. He took a deep breath and buried his face in the crook of Kyungsoo's shoulder. "I'm really tired."

Kyungsoo didn't say anything, but Joonmyun did feel the quick shift of his muscles, the soft kiss Kyungsoo pressed to the crown of his head. "Rest," Kyungsoo said, as if forgetting the burning sensation of Lu Han's lips brushing against his was that easy. It wasn't. Still, Joonmyun closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "Get some rest."

Lu Han's smiling face, the gentle swell of his lips, the upward curl at the corners of his mouth burned brightly at the back of his eyelids.)

♯

Lu Han made a few more appearances at the doorstep of Joonmyun's room for the next two weeks. The first two times, he had a bottle of soju with him. The succeeding two, he brought a plushie along with him. He'd shuffle to Joonmyun's bed without another word, lay there for a couple of minutes, then start talking. At first, it felt a bit off, pretty weird – they never were close enough for late night conversations, after all – but after a while Joonmyun grew accustomed to the sudden influx of 'Lu Han encounters'. He had no qualms: Lu Han was a pretty good conversationalist if he wasn't thinking too hard of something interesting to say, when he was just drinking and dropping bits and pieces of a past he'd never shared with Joonmyun before. On one of his friends' birthday, he stole one of her Barbie dolls and cut her hair. He almost cut his finger when he tried poking the blades of a powered electric fan. Once, he crushed flower petals in a plastic bag, doused them in alcohol, then set the plastic bag on fire. He was the one who accidentally dropped the Oreos in Kyungsoo's ramyun, not Chanyeol.

And he was a pretty good kisser, too, if not a bit too shy and uncertain. He slid his hands up and down Joonmyun's sides like he didn't know where to place them. Like he wasn't sure if all these things were happening – Joonmyun had one hand tilting Lu Han's chin up. He had his fingers tangled in Lu Han's hair. And Lu Han was whimpering into the open press of Joonmyun's mouth like he'd been wanting this to happen for so long now.

Give it a rest, Joonmyun told himself. They were both a bit inebriated. They were sad, maybe still depressed. Recuperating. They were holding onto each other by a sliver of that Kris thread that might snap anytime. They were a ticking time bomb and only they knew how to defuse each other. They were radioactive. So he pulled away when Lu Han made a tiny sound at the back of his throat, when Lu Han's whimpers had turned into heavy breathing and he started balling his hands into fists in Joonmyun's shirt.

"You started it," Joonmyun murmured. He grabbed the bottle beside him, ready to use it as an excuse for – what he'd done, how he'd reacted, how he'd breathed Lu Han's name back there like he'd been rehearsing this in his mind for a while already? He wasn't sure. All he knew right now was that Lu Han was shaking his head and laughing at him silly. And that Lu Han's lips were a thick shade of red. He did that. He did that to Lu Han. "What? You were the one who–"

"No, I mean–" Lu Han pulled him closer. Joonmyun's grip on the bottle waned a little. He was more concerned about his room smelling like soju than anything else. Or so he wanted to think. Up close, he could make out Lu Han's lips trembling, like the sudden loss of warmth was making him feel too cold. The air conditioning wasn't even up too high. "I mean, why did you stop?"

I started feeling something weird, Joonmyun wanted to say. Like this thing wasn't just a knee-jerk reaction to Kris' departure or it wasn't just a channel for stress relief. Sort of like those stress balls except Lu Han had his fingers wrapped around Joonmyun's heart and he was squeezing it too hard, too much. Maybe he should tell Lu Han to stop. "It's getting late. We have a thing tomorrow."

"10 a.m.," Lu Han mumbled. He leaned closer. Their lips touched. Earlier, during practice, his voice almost cracked while he was singing 'Moonlight' with Jongdae. But he got back on track, his tone smoother, more velvety than before. That was nothing compared to the low notes Lu Han made only in Joonmyun's room, though, when he was groaning against the open press of Joonmyun's mouth. "And we have a thing right now. I need you to focus."

"I need to get off your lap and you need to go back to your room."

"I need to–" Lu Han stopped mid-sentence, lips parted and eyebrows caught in a light furrow. He let out a loud exhale. He was worrying his bottom lip he just had to scour the surface for the next string of words, the right things to say so he could express himself properly. "Just–" And then he lost them again, his hot breath tumbling into Joonmyun's mouth this time as Lu Han pulled him even closer, crushing their mouths together in an inelegant slide.

It happened a few more times, one for every time Kris tried to reach the SM management, tried to reach them. The news stung less after a while, two months after the whole tirade. Summer was fast approaching. This was their opportunity to start over, leave something behind. They could have easily dropped the whole 'kissing for convenience and for comfort' act by now, but Lu Han kept knocking on his door. And he kept opening it, kept letting Lu Han in. Over the next few months he'd be kissing Lu Han too often, too much that it wouldn't take more than a second to know when Lu Han was about to pry his lips open with his tongue, when he wanted to slip his hands beneath Joonmyun's shirt. When Lu Han was doing it out of habit or when he really meant it. Kind of like he'd want to do it again and again even if he knew separation would hit him ten times harder whenever EXO-M had to fly out of Korea to go back home. Joonmyun maintained a pattern, then, put his 100% into every single encounter, just so Lu Han wouldn't find any blind spots and capitalize on them. So Lu Han wouldn't find an opening where he could fit himself in Joonmyun's life by hook or by crook.

♯

The next time Lu Han showed up, Yixing was by his side. "I just need to get him to the hospital," Yixing mumbled. His voice was calm, dangerously still. Beside him, Lu Han took a shaky breath. Lu Han's lips were chapped; his face, the palest shade of flesh."I'll be back," Yixing promised, then pulled away with a nod of the head.

In the end, Joonmyun drove them both to the E.R.. It was ten in the evening, too early for any of his encounters with Lu Han but too late to be out in the streets when they had a 7 a.m. flight the following day. He looked at the rear mirror from time to time, trying to get a glimpse of Lu Han's features. Lu Han wasn't grimacing in pain, but his eyebrows were in a tight knot. His lips were drawn to a thin line. There was none of that usual playful smile on his lips, or even the light upward tug on his cheeks. And his chest was rising and falling without any fixed pattern that Joonmyun could pattern his breathing after. Still, he looked at Joonmyun through the mirror, gave him a tiny wink like he was saying, I'm good, I'm cool. Don't worry about me. I won't leave.

Joonmyun took a deep breath, took a left turn at the next corner. At the next glimpse, he caught Yixing staring, not one of those empty stares of him but one that brought a warning with it.

The rest of the trip was silent. Lu Han only made a sound when Yixing helped him slip out of the car, when Joonmyun wished them well and said, "I'll be back. Just have to park somewhere." Lu Han gave him a curt nod in response and Yixing shot that same meaningful look his way, like he was promising a long conversation when Joonmyun returned from trying to delay the inevitable. Like he was saying, you think I don't know what you're up to? He didn't have to tell me; you're too obvious that only stupid people won't find out.

This was the escape route he needed, he mused. There was an entire road stretched ahead of him. The night was on his side. He found it easiest to move in the dark when shadows were cloaking over his limbs tangled with Lu Han's own. Still, he got out of the car and walked back to the hospital, hands dug in his pockets, mind too deep into an argument with the better half of his senses that was saying, 'You had a chance, Joonmyun. You had a chance to get out of this mess. But you just had to screw things up again.'

they gave him some pain killers and he's kinda sleepy ryt now, came Yixing's text. Joonmyun looked up from where he had his eyes fixed on his phone, then scrolled down to the next message. think u can get us some banana uyuu??

Yeah no problem, Joonmyun replied. He slipped his phone back in his pocket and took a deep breath. Slowly, the door opened in front of him. It was only a matter of time until Yixing sat him down for a long talk.

Yixing didn't, though. They sat in companionable silence as Yixing swayed his body to the steady beeping of the machine in the room. Lu Han was sleeping, lips parted slightly as slivers of sound spilled from his lips. He was snorting in his sleep. Joonmyun laughed a little.

"He's pretty volatile," Yixing mumbled after a while. He worried his bottom lip. "He's going through more shit than anyone can ever imagine."

You don't have to tell me, Joonmyun wanted to say, but why should he? Nobody knew about their secret meetings at eleven in the evening. Nobody knew that whenever Lu Han stepped inside Joonmyun's room, he'd be backing Joonmyun up against the wall the very next minute and licking his way inside Joonmyun's mouth. He'd be telling Joonmyun about his day, how his back situation had gotten worse, the doctors told me I should probably slow down because my lungs are getting weak. But how? I mean, we're idols. Isn't it enough that I dropped smoking for this dream? And Joonmyun would be slipping his hands beneath the material of Lu Han's shirt, kiss Lu Han back until Lu Han stopped babbling and started talking with his tongue, hands, the thumping in his chest.

Lu Han was entitled to a couple of secrets. Joonmyun was his biggest secret of all.

"How's the back situation?" Joonmyun asked. He scratched the material of his jeans, pausing when Lu Han gave a particularly loud snort. He laughed a little. "Getting better?"

"Mine or his?" Yixing replied.

It was probably a trick question. Joonmyun blinked a few times. In the dim lighting, it was becoming increasingly difficult to read Yixing's features. He'd always been hard to figure out, after all. "Both."

Yixing let his gaze linger, held his breath in his chest longer than he should. His teeth began to chatter. "Worse, and even worse," Yixing answered, scoffing a bit. He shifted in his seat and slumped against it, throwing his head back in accord. He did this whenever he was too tired to dance or even breathe. He'd been doing it more frequently these days. It's almost as if he's tired all the time, lugging himself around with a broken faith and hope. "His last check up was a week after K–"

Joonmyun turned to his side. He was facing Yixing now. Yixing's lips remained parted, like he was looking another term for Kris' name. Fallen leader and former friend seemed like good options. It felt weird on Joonmyun's lips, though.

"It's alright. You can say his name," he whispered.

Yixing laughed a little. "It's been months. You'd think that after all this time, it would be easier–"

It will never be easier. The initial mold had been broken. Kris was like that unmistakable crack in the vase that sort of made the patterns on the vase weird when Joonmyun tried to haphazardly slap superglue on it. When he tried to keep things – the remaining eleven – together. He already had a hard time making sure his sanity was intact; what more if he had to look after ten other people and make sure they weren't at the brink of throwing things? Kris made dealing with all the stress easier. Kris would always use his big, warm hands to pull Joonmyun close to his chest whenever he smiled too much in the face of stress to the point that his cheeks felt numb.

I can't erase it from my face, Joonmyun told Kris one time, pointing at his cheeks. It looked like one of those patented SM faces. It made him sick. What do I do with this now? It won't go away. Make it go away–

"It won't. It never will," he mumbled. He nudged Yixing in his side a little, then dropped his hand on Yixing's own. "And I mean it: you can say his name. Things haven't been the same since Kris left but that doesn't mean we can't try to go back to the way we were. That doesn't mean we can't try to... be okay again."

Yixing cocked his head to the side. Grazed his knuckles along Joonmyun's cheeks, as well, as he said, "He always said you were the stronger between the two of you. The tiny leader who packed a lot of strength." Yixing loosened his fist, then gave Joonmyun's cheek a light pinch. Kris did that a lot, as well, whenever he couldn't come up with excuses anymore. He ran off a lot, disappeared from the group too many times that Joonmyun couldn't count them with his fingers anymore. He had an apology ready every single time. He never promised to stay forever. "He said that if EXO should ever fall and disband, you'd be the last person fighting for all of us to stay together."

"Bullshit," Joonmyun whispered. He laughed. He could taste blood in his mouth. It tasted nothing like Lu Han, or even Kris' promise that they'd bring this group together to the top, help each other every step of the way. He cracked his neck. "I'm sorry. The asshole probably said that. I mean, Kris probably– Outside the whole leaving thing, he's actually a nice guy."

Yixing snorted. It wasn't supposed to be funny. None of this – Kris' departure, Lu Han's health condition worsening, everyone hanging onto their dreams by a sliver of hope – should be funny. But Yixing just kept shaking his head, breathing out in tiny bubbles of laughter. A weak smile on his lips as he said, "That's the first time I've ever heard anyone call him that." A deep breath, then, "He knows he's an ass. I've never fallen short on reminding him that."

So you've been keeping in touch, Joonmyun wanted to ask, but soon Lu Han was groaning in his sleep and rousing from his slumber. Lu Han blinked a few times and grunted, like he'd just realized they had a flight tomorrow, he still hadn't packed his luggage, he left his instant ramyun in the kitchen and Jongin had probably already eaten it already. He stayed silent for a few more seconds, blinking at Yixing and Joonmyun a few more times before parting his lips to speak.

"How long have I been out?"

Joonmyun glanced at his wrist watch. A little over an hour, if his eyes weren't failing him. Or maybe even more than that. He had a habit of not keeping track of time whenever he was in Lu Han's company. Taking a deep breath, he answered, "An hour or so. Feeling better?" Didn't say, long enough to make you stay.

Lu Han licked his lips. A corner of his mouth pulled up in a small smile. He reached out with one hand and made grabbing motions in the air, as if gesturing for them to come closer. Yixing or himself, Joonmyun couldn't tell, so he just pulled Yixing with him, inched closer until he could rest his chin on the cushion of Lu Han's bed.

"Better," Lu Han muttered. He gave Joonmyun's cheek a poke with his toe through the sheets.

It was gross, Joonmyun mused. The lurching sensation in his stomach, even more.

Lu Han wouldn't be released until the following day, long after the rest of EXO had already flown out of the country. Doctor's orders, not his, if the look on Lu Han's face was anything to go by. It was the same image that burned at the back of Joonmyun's eyelids when he tried to get some sleep in the plane, or even after he'd roused from his light slumber once the place touched down. In lieu of Lu Han's presence in the concert, he sent everyone a text: to Jongdae, he said, don't screw up w/o me now. To Minseok., make sure chenchen doesn't push himself too hard ty ty c: He sent a plethora of smileys to the others, Yixing included. Maybe it was some code for, I don't know what to say so I'll just let you figure out my own shit.

i'll be back, he texted Joonmyun.

They had to alight the van now. They were ten minutes late.

Joonmyun took a deep breath and typed a quick 'okay'. At the back of his mind, he was chanting, don't make promises you can't keep.

♫

The wounds of Kris' departure were fresh so Joonmyun thought, Lu Han probably wouldn't be stupid enough to tap out this year. Maybe he'd go for a break, but taking the first plane home was out of the question. SM was making them follow a strict practice-show-sleep-practice again routine, after all. There was no opportunity to sneak out to do whatever they wanted to do. Baekhyun had to go out disguised as a girl just so he could walk along the Han with Taeyeon. Sehun and Zitao had to wear ridiculous outfits just to get past security and get themselves a nice cup of milk tea. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol couldn't even eat at Chanyeol's father's place in peace. There weren't people guarding them, watching them like a hawk, but at the back of their minds there were these mini SM guards that kept them from doing something they'd regret for the rest of their lived.

"You could've been seen," Joonmyun said through gritted teeth. He looked around for an audience, then balled his hand into a fist in Lu Han's shirt. "Are you stupid?"

Lu Han shrugged his shoulders and took a step back. Maybe he was trying to escape, trying to get out of the mess he could've made, but he isn't looking away. His eyes were fixed on Joonmyun's own and if Joonmyun squinted hard enough or leaned even closer, he'd see himself in them. Maybe even see the look on his face, even if he could feel the scrunching of his nose already. Jongin often called it his 'ugly face'; Lu Han called it 'the first sign of danger'. "Not– Not stupid," Lu Han countered after a while. He gulped hard. "I didn't drink. I didn't do anything. I just met up with a few friends–"

"Who have connections with media outlets back in Beijing. Friends who your fans know." Joonmyun took a deep, shaky breath. He tightened his grip on Lu Han's shirt, but maintained the distance between them. So Lu Han met him halfway, inched closer like he wasn't already in trouble, as it is. Like they hadn't just shuffled to a darker area of a street earlier and they weren't idols. Like he didn't care. "Do you know how many people are speculating shit about you missing shows again? You know what they're saying? 'His loyalty's gone. Will he be like Kris? Is he really leaving?'"

Joonmyun gulped hard and inhaled through gritted teeth. It made shiver. It was summer in earnest now; it wasn't supposed to be this cold. "Do you really want to give them the wrong idea, huh? Do you want them to think that–"

"I'm not giving them any ideas," Lu Han mumbled. He licked his lips, worried his bottom lip a little. Joonmyun dropped his gaze for a brief moment to Lu Han's mouth in response. Then he kicked himself at the back of his head for losing control again, for showing Lu Han that window of opportunity when he was weakest. "I mean, it's normal to meet up with friends, right? For a cup of coffee or two? Cake? Come on–"

"Don't–fuck around with me," Joonmyun whispered. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth. He could loosen his grip on Lu Han now – Lu Han hadn't made any move to escape, after all – but he'd already lost the feeling in his fingers. He could've even tell if he was gripping the shirt too tight or too lose. Or if he wanted Lu Han to stay for the group or for– For what? He didn't need the proximity to keep the friendship alive; that's what mobile messengers were for. He didn't need the warmth only Lu Han could provide; their bodies pressed so close to each other already felt like drowning in a sea of alcohol. He didn't need Lu Han's voice to help steady his own; Jongdae was better at harmonizing with people, anyway. Or maybe he could con Minseok into singing more. There were nine other bodies who could fulfill that 'special role'. So the only reason he needed Lu Han to stay was for the group to remain intact, a solid group of eleven after one of them had pulled away. They didn't have anything special. Lu Han was just another guy.

And yet Lu Han was inching closer. And yet Lu Han was reaching up and reaching out, the cool pads of his fingers tracing a line along Joonmyun's jaw. And Joonmyun was shivering. His knees felt weak and he could feel his pulse beating strongly and the back of his knees, and he was shaking. The twelve inches between them were slowly thinning into eight, six, four, two, until the tip of Lu Han's nose touched Joonmyun's cheek.

He could feel Lu Han's chest heaving against his own, could feel Lu Han's hot breath on his skin. And he could hear all the voices in his head saying one thing – idol, idol, idol–

"I need a break," Lu Han whispered, lips pressed to a corner of Joonmyun's mouth. Something in Joonmyun snapped – a thin thread of hope, a fiber of his being. His patience, maybe even his resolve. Lu Han was good at making him go 'round and 'round, in circles. His patience wasn't as immeasurable as most people thought. "Health situation's getting worse. I'm tired. If I strain my vocals then I might not be able to sing ever again–"

He's saying, I'm not leaving but in the event that I disappear without prior notice, you know where I am. You know where to find me, and if I even want to be found.

It was selfish, wanting to walk away and yet have something to return to. It was selfish to want to have a harbor of sorts for when Lu Han realizes he's gone way off-track and he can't find his way home. It was stupid to ask for something like that. But it was also courageous. All of them were tired, overstretched, overextended, but Lu Han was the only one who had the balls to speak up to the management about it. Air out their concerns and remind the management that these were people they were dealing with. They weren't just revenue-generating assets; they were talents.

And Joonmyun was a bit jealous – of Lu Han's courage, of Lu Han not losing a sense of himself yet. Of Lu Han still keeping that trainee mentality that things could only get better with each new album, each release. If, during MAMA promotions, they had very little sleep, then Lu Han believed they could still get a bit more rest while they transitioned from Growl to Overdose. It was a bit stupid to wish for something so much and so hard, but they all needed that from time to time – a bit of naivety. Unfounded hope.

"How long?" Joonmyun muttered. Lu Han hummed. The vibrations made him choke on his own spit. Lu Han's lips were warm, but his fingers splayed on Joonmyun's stomach were cold. It was a push and pull just as sick as their dynamic when locked up in a tiny room with no one to hold but each other. "How much time–"

"I don't know."

"You can't not know." He inched back for a while but Lu Han pulled him closer. Maybe they should make a run for it now, while the fans were still debating whether they'd seen Lu Han take a left turn or a right while Lu Han was trying to lose them. Maybe they should slip inside the building now, hop on the elevator. Try to keep their hands in their pockets until they got to Joonmyun's room and then let loose as soon the door shut closed. Maybe they should stop because wasn't Lu Han planning to run away? Joonmyun should be helping himself. He shouldn't be causing himself pain this way, but letting Lu Han nibble his bottom lip. "You can't make everyone wait–"

"I can tell them. As early as now," Lu Han whispered. He pulled away for a second, just for a quick breath, and Joonmyun chased after him with his lips, body moving on its own accord. Lu Han chuckled in response and Joonmyun twisted his knuckles in Lu Han's shirt all the more. Fuck this weak resolve. Fuck his lack of control. Fuck those one, two fans hiding behind a tree just a few feet away. Joonmyun had a mask in his pocket; he could use that to cover kiss-swollen lips. The fans wouldn't be able to see anything, use anything to create an issue. "One by one," Lu Han continued, then licked the seam of Joonmyun's lips, the right corner, the left. The back of Joonmyun's teeth when Lu Han bucked his hips, the warmth between his legs brushing against Joonmyun's leg, and Joonmyun parted his lips in thoughtless response. "So that they won't be surprised–"

It wouldn't be a surprise anymore, not to anyone in the group. Joonmyun heard Jongin and Sehun talking about it a few days back, on the second day the same week that Lu Han had to skip practice. Sehun read the apology text out loud, then shot Jongin a look. Jongin gave him this half smile, half frown thing that made Sehun scowl in response. Later that day, Joonmyun heard Sehun saying, 'I know he's tired and he's just looking after himself but what about–' Hurt creeps up on you like that, wraps around your neck and chokes down all the right words threatening to spill from your lips. It's the same thing that wouldn't let Sehun smile for the rest of the practice, up until he and Jongin spent two hours playing games and just generally letting off some steam.

Joonmyun could recall Sehun's slow, deliberate nod as he said, 'Well, what can we do? I mean, he's sick. And if you're sick, wouldn't you want to just rest?' They all knew what Lu Han had to go through during MAMA promotions. He spent half the time backstage taking his medications, trying to relax, telling his body to cooperate. During Wolf promotions, he had to sit still before performances even if he wanted so much to run through the choreography with the rest of the group, wanted to harmonize with Yixing and Jongdae. Come Growl promotions, he was rushing to the doctor after their last scheduled show for the day for his peace of mind, just to make sure that he was healthy enough to join the group for the shows the following day.

Kris was his faithful companion for all his doctor's appointments then. Joonmyun wondered now if Kris ever told Lu Han, 'You know, there's a fine line between giving up and knowing your limits.'

"Yixing knows?" Joonmyun interrupted.

"Not yet." Lu Han sniffled. "I mean, I haven't told him yet. But I think he knows."

Joonmyun snorted. Yixing knew a lot of things about Lu Han; maybe this little tryst of theirs wasn't one of them.

"The rest of M?"

"Taozi... knows, I think." Lu Han pressed closer, sucked on Joonmyun's bottom lip like he was telling him to just stop, stop talking, just keep kissing. "Who doesn't? I just have to make it official. It's not as if–"

It's not as if you intended to stay, Joonmyun wanted to say. It's not as if Lu Han ever hid anything from them, bar the late-night drives and the meet ups with friends from different entertainment companies. Or maybe Lu Han hadn't really been keeping anything a secret; Joonmyun was just looking elsewhere, listening to something, someone else. The voices at the back of his head, voices of people from media, then fans, people who think they know them. It was becoming even more difficult to concentrate these days, what with all the rumors surrounding them.

"It's normal," Joonmyun whispered, whimpered when Lu Han began to suck on his top lip. He bucked his hips. "To be tired. Worn out."

"To give up?"

Joonmyun shook his head, took Lu Han's brief moment of surrender to get even and suck a bright, red mark on the underside of his jaw before nibbling on Lu Han's ear. "To want to give up," he murmured. He leaned even closer, then, whispering right into Lu Han's ear, "But still find ways to make things work."

Lu Han chuckled, but soon Joonmyun swallowed the rest of the tone with the open press of his mouth against Lu Han's own.

Behind them, a car sped along the stretch of the road. There was a flicker of lights over Lu Han's shoulder. And there was no one else around, just the two of them trapped in this darkness, their bodies crammed in a tight fit, their chests heaving in tandem with each other. Perfect timing, Joonmyun wondered as he threw his head back, parting his lips even more. Giving up, and letting Lu Han in.

They slipped inside the dorm five minutes after, making a beeline for Joonmyun's room as soon as they got in. They ignored the passing glance Baekhyun threw at them, just shrugged at Minseok's faint 'huh' after narrowly avoiding running into a collision. Lu Han had a brown envelope filled with possible excuses they could use: we're going through the new schedule, we're working on a couple of songs, we're rehearsing a script for tomorrow's radio show. We have weird sex and use office supplies to pleasure each other– The possibilities were endless, and they had limited time. In a few hours, they had to be up for a morning show they had to guest in. In a few hours, Lu Han had to slip back into the room he shared with Yixing, otherwise Joonmyun would have to be on the receiving end of weird, knowing looks from Yixing again. In a few hours, Lu Han had to accept that he had to be an idol for a few more days, weeks, hours, until whatever he was trying to work out with SM or his friends got settled. So they made full use of whatever spare time they had, Lu Han slipping his hands beneath Joonmyun's shirt and Joonmyun backing Lu Han up against the wall, kissing every part of him. Pulling away only for Lu Han to remove his shirt completely and throw it into a corner.

"That's the pile for–" Joonmyun groaned as Lu Han ran a thumb along his nipple. "–the stuff I have to return– to Kyungsoo–"

"He won't know unless you tell him," Lu Han whispered, laughing a little. He slipped his hands around Joonmyun's waist, then, and guided him to the bed. "Nobody has to know."

Joonmyun gulped hard. Laughed, because words were elusive again and really, he had no better response to this. So he kept mum about it even until the morning after when Kyungsoo dropped his gaze to the bright marks along Joonmyun's neck, even when Yixing asked him through the quiet language of his stare, 'I don't know what you two are up to but what the hell?' Didn't talk to anyone about all those times Lu Han knocked on his door with all of his clothes intact and tossed them to the floor just minutes after, or those times when he came seeking Lu Han out at three in the morning, too many miles away, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to Lu Han on the other side of the line and stroked himself in the bathroom.

Didn't talk to anyone about Lu Han's plans, both final and just weird, aimless desires. Didn't talk to Lu Han about leaving, being left behind, and the probability of not returning to something akin to hime. Didn't talk about the wild thumping in his chest everytime Lu Han looked and smiled his way. Instead, he took Lu Han's hand and drew it close to his chest where the turmoil was greatest, where he felt the most vulnerable and, at the same time, alive.

♯

Most of them would say that the whole 'letting people know' shenanigans started with Zitao slamming the door shut behind him and Lu Han running after him in an attempt to pacify him. There was an ounce of truth to it – it was the only time Lu Han ever openly expressed his intent to leave. Everybody was there to witness it, to react, but none of them said a thing. ZItao just sped past all of them, went out, didn't even grab his car keys. He'd return two hours after, bottom lip chapped and eyes sullen. And Kyungsoo would be ready with a cup of coffee and ramyun for him.

But the truth was this: Lu Han told Minseok first, as soon as Minseok had come out from his shower.

Minseok's bangs were still stuck to his forehead and he only had a towel around his waist then. His eyebrows were tied in a tight knot, and his lips were turned down into a frown. "What?" was his first reaction; his second, "What the fuck?" And then it was a stream of unspoken questions after that. Minseok wouldn't speak about it until minutes after, properly clothed and his bangs brushed back so he could look at Lu Han better. "What the hell do you mean, you're leaving the group?"

"Taking a break," Lu Han mumbled. From a corner of his eye, he met Joonmyun's gaze. So he shifted in his position, turned to his right so that Joonmyun was in his direct line of sight. Or maybe Lu Han was just trying to find a balance between really facing Minseok but having the opportunity to look away at the first sign of fear; Joonmyun just happened to get in the way. "Getting some rest. I'm... working some things out with the management and–"

Joonmyun gulped – in response or in stimulus, he couldn't tell. He'd wrapped his actions around Lu Han's own a long, long time ago that by now it already seemed impossible for whatever he did to not be linked to Lu Han, somehow. It was almost sickening, the dependence, knowing that Lu Han would leave someday, and someday soon. Joonmyun wasn't a stranger to people taking the first flight out of his life, walking past him without even giving him a second glance, waving at him one minute then packing their bags the next. But when you've formed a connection this strong with someone, 'letting go' of the ties that bind becomes ten times harder.

"–and... I'll come back, y'know? I've worked hard for this dream. We've all worked hard for this. I... don't want to put everyone's hard work to waste–"

"You're not trying to pull a Kris on us."

"I'm not. I know better now," Lu Han replied. He laughed a little. Joonmyun did, too, feeling the knot in his chest loosen. The tight press of Minseok's lips had eased into a tiny, tiny smile. "I wouldn't even dare."

Minseok snorted. "If you knew better then you shouldn't have pushed yourself too hard during practice."

"It doesn't make sense, doing things in half measures," Lu Han mumbled. He worried his bottom lip, and for a moment Joonmyun wanted to reach out, make Lu Han stop, make Lu Han memorize the slide of their mouths and get rid of that bad lip-biting habit. It was sinful. He didn't. Instead, he clasped his hands in front of him, took a deep breath in anticipation of Minseok's next words.

"I hate to say this, but I agree," Minseok replied. He locked his arms behind his back, then added, "And for the record, I hate you. I'd beat you to a pulp right now but I'm tired. So–" Minseok reached out, pinching Lu Han in his side and kicking him in the calf. He had this half smile, half frown on his lips that made him look more conflicted than ever. Joonmyun felt his stomach do this funny lurch that made him want to throw up. It wasn't a good look on Minseok. He was rarely ever uncertain about things, after all. If he ever was, he didn't let it show. Instead, he just worked harder, tried to get better at masking his insecurities. "If I see your face on posters during your extended break, I swear to God, Lu Han, I won't think twice about kicking your sorry ass."

"My glorious ass, you mean!" Lu Han said. His eyes were watering at the corners. And his voice was faltering. But then Minseok had just kicked him again, smiling more definitively this time, like the initial discomfort was slowly wearing off. "What? You said before that–"

"You're coming back," Minseok said, declared. His voice had dropped dangerously low, but it didn't sound like a threat. If anything, it was Minseok taking a defensive stance. Like he wasn't fully committing himself to hoping just yet that Lu Han wouldn't ever return. "You said you're taking a break, so that means–"

"I am," Lu Han answered, nodding. The smile on his lips was bright, blinding. It tore at the corners of his lips and pulled up the rest of his mouth. It made Joonmyun's breath hitch. "I'm coming back."

Minseok looked at him a little longer, the words for You might be lying but what the hell, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt scrawled on his eyebrows. "Alright," he said after a while, then dug his hands into his pockets. They were balled into fists. "That's all I needed to know."

Lu Han let out a loud exhale, then wrapped his arms around Minseok to pull him into a tight hug. Minseok's eyes widened but only for a split second, because soon he was burying his face in the crook of Lu Han's neck and was whispering something against Lu Han's skin. And they were laughing. It was so intimate a gesture that Joonmyun almost felt as if he was intruding. So he took a deep breath, matched that with one, two, three steps back until he could feel his knuckles grazing the wall behind them. The friction burned, felt like he was trying to rub himself off a flammable surface so he could set himself on fire. And it was crazy. It was crazy how a simple brush of his skin against the smooth wall could leave such a lasting burn. It was crazy how his stomach kept tossing and turning like a bomb had been dropped inside it and was wrecking havoc upon his system. It was crazy that all he wanted right now was to pull Lu Han away by the back of his shirt and remind him that this is an 'us' thing, right? This whole 'keeping the departure' a secret? C'mon, Lu Han, we made a deal. A heart in exchange for staying and all of your secrets. A kiss in exchange for my word to keep quiet about the whole thing. You can't break your promise just like that. It's not fair–

"Well, that went better than expected," Joonmyun heard Lu Han saying. His body gave a tiny jerk, jolting him back to this reality where Lu Han was only two feet away. Or just one one foot, now that Lu Han was walking in his direction. Lu Han looked up, then, meeting Joonmyun in the eye, and Joonmyun took a deep breath at the first contact, at seeing himself reflected in Lu Han's eyes. He looked like he was about to laugh or to cry or to laugh-cry, whichever came first. And Lu Han was laughing at him, just a tiny bubble of laughter on his lips soon blooming into a loud cackle. It set off explosions at the tips of Joonmyun's fingers.

"You look like you were the one who just said he was leaving," Lu Han teased. He gave Joonmyun's foot a light kick, brushed his knuckles against Joonmyun's cheek. Dropped the same hand on Joonmyun shoulder then let it slip until the tips of his fingers were holding onto Joonmyun's collarbone for balance. Here it was again, the push and pull of warmth and cold kept compact in the tiny vessel of Lu Han's hand. And here Joonmyun was again, trying to hold back, but giving in just the same. "You alright?"

"Are you okay?" Joonmyun asked. Lu Han snorted. His fingers trembled a little against Joonmyun's skin. "Hey, I asked you: are you–"

"I'm good," Lu Han whispered. He looked over his shoulder, then rested his other hand on Joonmyun's waist when he saw that Minseok was gone. "Like I said, could've been worse. I think he's just... pretty chill tonight. Yoga makes him happy. I like it when people are happy."

So stay, Joonmyun wanted to say, because what would make him happier than seeing them as a complete group of eleven? They could Photoshop Kris' picture somewhere in their lives, in the chair that they always left vacant in the dining area. Or hang Kris' picture again in the living room just to make their lives easier during the quick photo-op. Kris never really left, after all. The sting of the departure hurt the first two, three weeks, when Joonmyun felt like Kris decided to dump all his leader shit on him one day, when the group needed more than just the casual pat on the back or a small smile to urge them move forward, do better, give every performance their 100%.

And then Lu Han started knocking on his door, started sticking his hand down Joonmyun's pants, started kissing him long enough for Joonmyun to feel a dull ache in his jaw in the morning. Started sleeping in Joonmyun's bed until three in the morning so he could return to his own room before Yixing could start 'sleepwalking' in search for him. Then started not giving a fuck, rousing only when Joonmyun was already up and accompanying Joonmyun in his worst zombie state, following him to the kitchen to give him a sloppy morning kiss.

Joonmyun licked his lips now, bit his bottom lip in an attempt to keep the silly words from spilling from the corners of his mouth. Dropped his gaze, too, to the gentle swell of Lu Han's lips. There was a tiny scar somewhere there, a thin red line of blood from where he'd bitten down on Lu Han's lips in the hope of keeping Lu Han from being too loud. From leaving too many scars and marks on Joonmyun's skin, mind, heart. He could lean in now, try to say whatever he wanted to say though the inelegant slide of their mouths, but–

"What do you do–" Joonmyun began, pausing to look to their left, then their right. He craned his neck a little. A few feet away, he could hear a couple of people wailing. He could hear Kyungsoo's heavy footsteps in the kitchen, and Baekhyun's triumphant yay! Maybe they were playing Super Smash Bros. again. The others were busy. The two of them were alone here. They were safe. So Joonmyun inched even closer, stopping only when their lips brushed, when he felt Lu Han's hot breath fanning on his skin. "–when you make people sad? How do you make things right again?"

"When I make people sad?" Lu Han asked, voice cracking as if it was impossible for him to break hearts. "Why would I make people sad?"

"Not the question," Joonmyun murmured. "Answer me."

"Do I really have to?"

"Do you?" Joonmyun asked. He wasn't sure of what he was asking anymore, just that he was in need of answers, all of them Lu Han could provide. He reached for Lu Han's hands, gripped them tight like it was the only thing he could do to keep him here. "Do you really have to?"

Lu Han gulped hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his neck. He blew out a stream of hot air, tousling Joonmyun's hair a little. "I do," he whispered after a while. His lips quivered. "And when I make people sad, I tell them I'm sorry. Because I really am." He reached up, tracing Joonmyun's bottom lip with his thumb. "And if they don't believe that I am then I kiss them to make them feel that I'm telling the truth."

Joonmyun scoffed. "You kiss all the people who you make sad?"

"Nah," Lu Han replied, shaking his head. He leaned close, resting his forehead on Joonmyun's own. "Just the ones I like enough to kiss."

A traitorous cold wrapped around Joonmyun's neck, gripped at it tight, dropped something at the pit of his stomach and set off an explosion so strong Joonmyun felt his knees shake a little. Now you've done it, Joonmyun wanted to say. You've really done it now. When Lu Han swore to jazz things up a little, ease the pain of being left behind with alcohol and maybe a light kiss to the corners of Joonmyun's lips, Joonmyun wasn't expecting this – a collision of limbs, the inelegant slide of their mouths, the voices at the back of his mind screaming, Lu Han, Lu Han, Lu Han– But he should have seen it coming. Lu Han had the face of people who could easily build you up then break you into pieces in a blink of an eye. He had the smile that could win people over in a heartbeat, a smile that could lift worries faster than Joonmyun could say 'hello' in his best idol voice. He had eyes that couldn't hide whatever he was feeling inside and a tender touch that spoke more than the casual hi's and hello's that they usually exchanged when they passed each other in the corridors, between schedules, flights.

Joonmyun gulped hard. Leaned back to put distance between them because what if other people see? What if Minseok suddenly walked in on them and asked why? What if Lu Han kissed him now and then suddenly realized that he didn't like this, that it was the perfect excuse to hop on the first flight out of the country and away from Joonmyun's perimeter? What if Lu Han found out that Joonmyun wanted more than just to kiss him to take the pain away?

"Bullshit," Joonmyun muttered under his breath.

Lu Han laughed a little. "You know I'm a shitty liar."

I don't, Joonmyun wanted to say. He didn't know much about Lu Han. All he knew was that Lu Han was a great kisser, was great in bed. That Lu Han left scars on everything he touched and broke all the hearts he's ever splayed his fingers on.

"I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"I–" Joonmyun shook his head, turned his face to the side. He bit the inside of the cheek when he felt Lu Han inch closer, his hot breath prickling Joonmyun's skin. "I don't know–"

So let's find out together, was probably what Lu Han wanted to say, but they both knew he was shitty at verbalizing whatever he wanted to say if he wasn't singing. So Lu Han leaned in, pressed his lips to a corner of Joonmyun's mouth before cupping one cheek with his hand. This language, Joonmyun could understand – the light tremble of Lu Han's fingers was 'Well, I don't know what I'm doing, either'. The soft moan spilling from his lips when Joonmyun sucked on bottom lip was 'But I like how it feels. Keep it up. Keep going. Don't stop–' A few feet away, the rest of the band was cheering, Baekhyun and Chanyeol's voices soaring above the collective noise, but Lu Han was forcing Joonmyun to focus all of his attention on this kiss, this moment, on him. Lu Han was cupping his face with sticky palms and a strong pulse pressed to his skin. And Lu Han was whispering Joonmyun's name under his breath like a prayer, like it was the only word he knew and could wrap his tongue around.

And Joonmyun was pulling him in the direction of his room, away from the noise in the living room, shielded from the rest of the world.

They stayed up until three in the morning in a messy tangle of limbs, knowing that they had a show to guest at at nine in the morning. "Yixing's probably looking–" Joonmyun began, withdrawing his arms from where he had them around Lu Han's waist, but Lu Han shook his head, pressed his warm mouth on Joonmyun's own until he could swallow the rest of Joonmyun's words with every suck, lick, every nibble on Joonmyun's lips. They had a flight bound for Beijing scheduled in the evening and all the hours leading up to that were peppered with nothing but promotional shows, so Joonmyun gave in, let slip a tiny whimper that he would have otherwise bitten back if Lu Han hadn't been asking so nicely: please, please, please let me get what I want this time.

♯

Practice didn't go so well. The dull ache in Yixing's back had bloomed into something more uncontrollable again. The pills weren't doing anything to ease the pain. Jongin was going to have to overextend himself and try to distract the fans from Yixing's scrunched up face while dancing. Minseok had offered to cover for Yixing, but who was he kidding? Yixing wasn't the type who'd sit back and stop dancing just because his back was causing him problems. He still had his limbs; he was definitely still going to perform.

And Lu Han was weakening. The coughing had already died down, but he looked so pale and worn out that Joonmyun couldn't imagine how the stylists would do his make up without wanting to take him in their arms.

The concert went smoothly, nonetheless. Before the second half of the show, Lu Han offered to do the pep talk, the battle speech, the one monologue Joonmyun loved giving. "Y'know what? Screw the back pains and the ankle injuries and the sore throats. We'll get through this together. So we have to give it our all like it's our last performance, like it's the last time we'll stand on stage–"

Like it's the last time you'll tear me apart, said a voice at the back of Joonmyun's mind. He bit the inside of his cheek and shushed that voice until he could hear nothing but the thrumming in his chest.

"–like it's the last chance we'll ever get to sing the same song and we have everything to lose," Joonmyun continued. He took a deep breath, then stretched out his hand to the center of their huddle. He lifted his gaze, then, meeting Lu Han's eyes, pinning him in place with a careful stare. "Okay, let's do this! We are one!"

Lu Han's eyes widened and his lips fell open into a tiny 'o', just enough for a sliver of a hum to spill from his lips. Beside Lu Han, Minseok was nodding in thought, resting his hand atop Joonmyun's own and giving it a gentle squeeze before asking the others to join. It's such a normal gesture for them, an action they've been programmed to do before every single performance or show, but it feels so different now. They're in Beijing and Lu Han's hours away from 'home'. They have a couple more songs to perform, and then they're off on their separate lives. It feels like a 'goodbye' instead of a mark for the second half of their show. So Joonmyun cracks his neck, holds Lu Han's gaze and offers him a soft smile despite his quivering lips, despite the weight of nine other hands lumping atop his own.

"We are one!" Lu Han screams at the top of his lungs, then rests his hand on top of the pile. It feels oddly light, Joonmyun mused. With a nod of the head, they all brought their hands down, then launched them back in the air and chant their victory song in preparation for the next performance.

We are one, the words echoed at the back of Joonmyun's mind. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before stepping on stage. The lights were bright; the cheers of the crowd were deafening. And Lu Han's steady gaze from the other side of the stage was unwavering, much like the heavy thumping in Joonmyun's chest, the thundering pulse in the back of his knees, Lu Han's voice looping in his ears like his favorite song.

♫

Five in the morning, Joonmyun notes. Five in the morning in Beijing and Lu Han's still in bed with him, fully clothed, smelling like a sick mix of alcohol and a string of bad decisions. Lu Han could've easily snuck off last night, dragged his bags behind him and stayed over at a friend's place until EXO had finally gotten on their flight back to Korea, but he didn't. He's still here, a smidgen of drool flaunted on a corner of his mouth, his lips slightly parted as short bursts of snores spill from his lips. It's moments like this that make Joonmyun wish Lu Han had just been kidding about the injuries, the poor health condition, the struggles all this time. It's times like this that make him want to stay in the shadows and never step into the spotlight, then pull Lu Han into the darkness with him.

If Lu Han asked him to take off the idol mask, he'd do so in a heartbeat. Or maybe even more, after careful consideration of where they were, the people around them, the trouble they might get the others into. And when Joonmyun's already resolved to himself that they're safe, nobody's here to breathe down their neck, he'd toss the mask to the side so he could kiss Lu Han better.

"Do we have to get up?" Lu Han mumbles. Joonmyun jerks back a little, startled by the sudden sound. Lu Han laughs. "You kissed me the moment you got up. You can expect me not wake up at that."

Joonmyun snorts. Pinches the tip of Lu Han's nose, too, and dances his fingers down the column of Lu Han's throat. Lu Han's skin is sticky, warm, a twisted kind of home that Joonmyun isn't sure if he can part with. Just the thought of staying away makes him shiver.

"What are you, a princess?" he asks,

Lu Han narrows his eyes for a moment, worrying his bottom lip as he does so. Then he's pursing his lips like he means to keep himself from grinning or cackling or laughing. Like he means to keep himself from balling his hand into a fist in Joonmyun's shirt so he could get a taste of that wake up kiss again. "Only if you're the prince," Lu Han whispers, then sticks out his tongue. His eyes dart to the wall clock all of a sudden, and Joonmyun takes that as a sign to lean back. Put some space between them. If he wants to ease himself back into this getting left behind thing again then it's best to start now. "Fuck, I need to shower. I'm gross."

"You can use my bathroom," Joonmyun murmurs. He reaches for the shirt he was supposed to offer Lu Han last night and throws it in Lu Han's direction. He misses by the width of a hair. He wouldn't have if Lu Han hadn't moved and lunged to pull him by the front of his shirt, if Lu Han hadn't reached out to reel him back in. Lu Han stinks right now but that doesn't take away from how soft his lips look, or how that gentle upward curl of the lip makes his mouth ten times more interesting than it already is. And it doesn't lift the slow, simmering sensation at the pit of Joonmyun's stomach, either. If anything, it sets his insides aflame again, burning brighter than before. "There's still a spare towel there, I think?"

"We can shower together," Lu Han whispers. He leans in, just close enough for Joonmyun to feel the rough brushing of their lips but not close enough that they wouldn't have a choice but to kiss. He hums. "To save time."

"I shower fast," Joonmyun argues.

"Yeah. It's dressing up that takes time for you." Lu Han still hasn't pulled away, though, still hasn't jerked back and remembered that hey, I have to take a bath. Maybe Joonmyun doesn't like kissing people who stink. But the reality is that Lu Han knows Joonmyun makes exceptions for everything. He doesn't hate Baekhyun's noise as much as he hates other people belting out songs at two in the morning. He doesn't mind losing to Jongin in Super Smash Bros.. He doesn't mind kissing Lu Han with the stains of last night still in Lu Han's mouth. Still, Lu Han pulls away, putting just two inches of space between them before saying, "You're getting into the showers. With me. Now."

It's just a quick bath, Joonmyun tells himself. Reminds himself that friends do this, step under the spray and splay their fingers all over each other's body in an attempt to lather as much soap on each other's skin as possible. He can't be the only guy who's fallen prey to something like this, can't possibly be the only idol who's ever shared a kiss with his bandmate and has jerked off a friend for the sake of a better working relationship. He can't be the only guy to ever think of wanting to spend the next five, ten years linking hands with a bandmate despite the scrutinizing gaze of people all around them. He can't be the only one who's made the same mistake of getting too attached and receiving nothing but empty promises in return.

"Let make it quick," Joonmyun says after a while.

"We have time," Lu Han retorts as he pulls Joonmyun inside. He means, we still have two hours to ourselves. Might as well make full use of it, right?

They spend a good twenty minutes in the shower, water beating down on their bare backs as their lips find a sloppy slide, a strange but comfortable fit. Lu Han doesn't stop kissing him – his lips, the underside of his jaw, the column of his neck, each and every single part of Joonmyun that his mouth can reach and trace scars on – even as they rock their hips, cocks sliding and brushing against each other in a torturous rhythm. Even as Lu Han works a finger inside Joonmyun, stretching him thoroughly before introducing a second finger and scissoring the digits inside him. Only pulls away when the fit becomes unbearable and as he pushes another finger inside Joonmyun, and then another, twisting his fingers inside until Joonmyun whimpering and slamming his fist against the cool tiles of the wall. The sudden wave of cold is overwhelming, makes Joonmyun shiver and makes his insides turn, but soon Lu Han's pushing his length inside Joonmyun, his warm chest pressed to Joonmyun's back. Joonmyun doesn't bite back the low groan that knocks at the back of his teeth, doesn't keep himself from digging his nails into Lu Han's thigh as Lu Han rocks into him in a slow, easy rhythm. Instead, he lets it wash over him, all these sounds and tiny details that make up Lu Han – the cracks and lilts in his voice when he asks, "Can I go faster," the choked humming spilling from his lips when Joonmyun pushes back and guides Lu Han's hands to his cock. The warm mouth closing in on Joonmyun's earlobe and Lu Han's soft ah's as he spills inside Joonmyun, too pliant and too willing.

Later, during breakfast, Lu Han links their ankles together under the table. The stretch is difficult, like trying to force a thick piece of tteok down a narrow nozzle or trying to reach a particularly high note well outside Joonmyun's range, but Joonmyun doesn't mind. The worst that could happen is for them to get matching ankle aches later and for that to show during the practice. Or for Zitao to ask, "Why are you both slouching? Don't you know that it's bad for your posture?"

"Joonmyun's my idol. I do whatever he asks me to do," Lu Han says in thoughtless response, and meets Joonmyun's eyes across the table. Joonmyun tries his best not to choke on his food, not to crack up, not to let the feelings show, drinking his water in one gulp and wiping the trembling of his lips with a swipe of the tongue. A silent way of telling Lu Han, don't make promises you can't keep.

♫

Lu Han leaves the hotel at five in the morning the following day. "Didn't forget anything?" Yixing asks before taking a step back from the cab, and Lu Han only shakes his head in response. His eyes are red rimmed and his lips are chapped. And they're trembling. If Joonmyun were to decipher this then he'd easily interpret it as 'I don't want to leave like this but I have to. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you someday. I'm really sorry–'

"You forgot this," Joonmyun says, tossing a tiny black pouch in Lu Han's direction. He drops his gaze to his feet faster than Lu Han can look up to meet his gaze. "You left it in my bag. We... might have gotten some things mixed up while we were packing up after the Shanghai show and–"

"Oh," Lu Han whispers. When Joonmyun risks a glance at Lu Han, he finds him holding up a ring, just a thin band of silver glimmering in the morning light. His insides lurch in an instant, like a stimulus. It's too early for his senses to function like this, to react too quickly to Lu Han, but it's one of those days. Lu Han's in a cab and his life with EXO has been packed in two big luggages. He's bound for his house and his family's waiting there for him. There might be booze – Joonmyun can't really remember the details; he just overheard the conversation the other day. And there will definitely be hugs. And when the rest of the members wake up, they won't find a trace of Lu Han in the hotel, in the dining table, in the plane on their way home. "Yeah, I– I'm sorry. I must've dumped this in your bag sometime–"

Joonmyun lifts his left hand, giving it a light wave as he fixes Lu Han with a gaze. "'Til next?" he says, voice lilting and turning it into a question, but Lu Han isn't listening. His eyes are drawn to the silver band Joonmyun is wearing on his index finger, a ring that looks strangely like the one he's holding at the moment. And then he's looking back at Joonmyun with his eyebrows drawn together in a tight knot and his lips trembling. "Keep us updated when you change numbers?"

"You should be going now," Yixing whispers. He looks at both Joonmyun and Lu Han, the corners of his lips turned up in a soft, subtle smile. "The others will be up in a couple of minutes."

"Yeah, I'll– I'll keep–" Lu Han slips the ring in his left index finger. He could've worn it on his right – he hates wearing anything on his left hand, that's what he always says during photoshoots – but no. The silver band sticks to his pale skin like it's supposed to be there, a part of Lu Han that the morning sunlight is shining upon. An extension of Joonmyun sticking to Lu Han like glue. Like he's saying 'sorry' a thousand times because just one isn't enough. "You guys keep in touch, okay? I mean, I know you'll be busy and–"

"We'll keep in touch," Joonmyun repeats, giving him a curt nod. He pushes the door of the cab forward, eyebrows twitching a little at the sound of the door being shut. He gulps down hard, tries to summon a smile. It feels weird on his lips. "I promise."

Lu Han bites down on his bottom lip. Then, as a last promise, he mouths, I'll be waiting.

They say there's nothing lonelier than watching someone get left behind, nothing quite like the feeling of driving off into the sunset, knowing that you're leaving certain things that are dear to you. That you'll have to push down the insane urge to get out of the car and run back, run as fast as you can into someone's loving arms. Joonmyun believes otherwise – it's watching Lu Han turn right around the block and getting a glimpse of his hair for the very last time that hurts the most. It's knowing that Lu Han kept looking over his shoulder until he couldn't see both Joonmyun and Yixing anymore that hits like a fucking truck. It's the message that Lu Han sends, the one that reads make sure to keep your promise c:, that wraps itself around Joonmyun's heart tight and squeezes him dry until the thumping in his chest grows stronger, louder, wilder. And it's the thought that their unstoppable eleven has been whittled down to ten that brings him back to this moment, ten minutes past five in the morning, out in the streets of Beijing that are both pulling them together and pushing them apart.

"Let's round everyone up," Joonmyun whispers, then turns to look at his side. When he lifts his gaze, Yixing offers him the softest, most tender smile.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, deep breath.

♫

It's been a while since they've last been on a stage as big as this. Their last show prior to the Fukuoka concert was in Beijing, the day before Lu Han decided to stay in China, to go back home. The day before the rest of EXO had to go back to Korea to get a sense of home again after flying from one country to another for the past few months for their shows. The whole two months in between, they spent recording new material, doing hosting, acting stints that sort of took the attention of the media away from the lawsuits SM had received this year. He and Baekhyun have been regularly appearing in Inkigayo as hosts up until the management told them they had to slow down and focus on their comeback. Give others a chance to shine. Take a much needed break. Chanyeol and Yixing were doing their own music thing. Everyone was slowly getting back up, kneeling on one knee, poised for flight. Still, those two months weren't enough to completely ease them into the new choreography, the new fit of their bodies. Waiting backstage as a group of ten felt so different without two other bodies to keep them together. It left a weird sort of longing deep inside Joonmyun, left of his chest.

"This is us," Minseok whispers in his ear. A soft pinch in his side, then, "We're not waiting for anyone else."

Joonmyun feels his entire body give a tiny jerk, and then he's breathing again. The world starts to turn. The staff all around them rush from one side of the backstage to the other. The stage director is signaling at them, mouthing, Show starts in five minutes! Positions, c'mon! And then the cheers of the crowd just beyond the curtains hit his senses, making him shiver. It's the same kind of rush that once washed over him just before they started their first ever showcase, or during their first stage, that sliver of silence before the opening notes of MAMA blared in the speakers. It's the same crippling fear that makes him freeze now, makes him wonder, is it really going to work out, the new choreography? Have they already adjusted well? What is EXO without the original mold of twelve–

"Hyung, your speech," comes Jongin's voice. Joonmyun feels someone kick his foot. It's Zitao. He's wearing that shy smile that says 'I did it for love, hyung. Please don't hit me?' "Mandatory pep talk before the concert? Remember that?"

Joonmyun gulps hard. Takes a deep breath, too, and clenches his fists. It's funny how two months away from the stage could change them this much. He wets his lips before replying, "Right. I– I should probably say something."

Or maybe a handful. He has a lot of things to say – sorry I couldn't convince the two to change their minds. I'm sorry Kris and Lu Han left. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to keep the initial mold intact, to keep EXO a solid group of twelve instead of the group of ten that we are now. That's not even half of all the words, strings of sentences waiting to spill from his lips, but he manages to summarize everything into one simple statement: "We are one." Three words, nothing else. A statement so overused that it could've lost its meaning by now. The members seem to get it, though, with Zitao even offering a small frown and nudging him in his side before taking Joonmyun in his arms. And then it's a collision limbs after that, too many arms thrown haphazardly around each other to pull their group of ten together into a tight, snug hug. The closest to home Joonmyun has felt in a long, long while.

"One minute 'til end of VCR! Get ready now!" says the stage director. With a curt nod, they all pull away and assume their places, waiting for the exact moment where the familiar beats come in and carries them away.

Joonmyun closes his eyes for a second when the music thins into silence. The ground beneath them shakes a little, and the floors of the stage above them part to let warm, red light spill from the tiny opening. It feels a lot like their debut performance, except a bit colder than the usual. Less crowded, too. Not any less magical, though, he muses as he feels someone reach for his hand, as he feels a soft pat on his back, his arm, his shoulder. The cheers of the crowd are deafening, and everyone's chanting We are one! We are one! And maybe they still are. Distance is just another language they have to learn to speak if they want to keep the bonds strong. If they could easily learn Japanese and Mandarin to reach more fans then what's another strange yet discernible language?

The floor snaps into place. They start chanting the opening sequence, dancing part of the choreography for the chorus and slipping out of their old trainee skin.

It's almost impossible to make out the faces in the crowd with the lights shining down too brightly on them, but Joonmyun catches sight of familiar eyes, the same scrutinizing gaze that Joonmyun has been on the receiving end of for weeks, months, maybe even two long years. He knows it well enough for stimulus to kick in, for his system to revolt against him and set something in him ablaze again, make his heart race and then stop at that exact moment when their eyes find each other in the blurry sea of lights.

Lu Han raises his hand in the air, the splayed out fingers curling into a fist until his index finger stands alone. The band glows like a beacon and blinds Joonmyun, setting off explosions at the tips of his fingers and pulling up at the corners of his mouth.

Lu Han mouths his parts like routine, like old times.

Joonmyun doesn't stop dancing.