Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was almost a perfect line, until Luhan tripped over his feet and came crashing down. There was an exclamation from the other side of the rink; as Luhan slid down the ramp, a pair of skates appeared by his head.

“Dude, that was so close,” Baekhyun said, hand extended to pull Luhan to his feet. “You had it until right at the end.”

“Maybe I should go back to freestyle,” Luhan muttered, brushing the dust off his back. “I can’t grind properly in tri-rockers.”

Baekhyun snorted. “Yeah you can. You just did it like five times. I mean. I assume. I wasn’t watching. But you were definitely fine before that last one. I don’t think it’s the skates, buddy.”

Luhan scowled and turned to take off around the rink again, skating a lap around the very edge of the warehouse before taking another run at the first ramp. He was fine over the first and second - even got a Soyale in on the bar - but at the last ramp he wiped out again and tumbled down in a heap.

“And they call me Bacon!” Baekhyun yelled. “Sizzle sizzle, dude.”

“Shut up!” Luhan pulled off his left skate and flicked a finger across the wheels. Of course they were all fine - the skate wasn’t the problem. He shoved his foot back in and stood as Baekhyun slid to a stop in front of him.

“Maybe you should get yourself a coach,” Baekhyun suggested, and now he seemed sincere rather than mocking. “Someone who can watch you and figure out what you’re doing wrong.”

“Isn’t that what you’re for?” Luhan elbowed Baekhyun in the ribs, then skated over to the far corner and vaulted the railing to get to the hole in the wall.

“I’m not watching you the whole session, man. And even if I did, I can’t tell what it is you’re doing wrong. You need a professional.” Baekhyun sighed and leaned against the wall to take a long drink from his water bottle. “If only you could get Kim Minseok, or someone like that.”

Luhan snorted. “Isn’t he dead?”

“What?” Baekhyun’s head jolted up off the wall. “No way! He’s not, is he?”

“I swear he died like three years ago.”

“I thought he just retired!”

“I dunno man, all I know is I only ever saw him skate once. He was the reigning champ when I started skating, and then he just suddenly dropped off the face of the earth. Pretty sure he died.”

Baekhyun capped his water bottle and turned to lean over the counter. “Hey, Xing! Settle something for us.”

Yixing scooted back from his desk and swivelled on his office chair. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Kim Minseok,” Baekhyun said. “Dead, or retired?”

“Retired,” Yixing said. “Who told you he was dead?”

Baekhyun indicated Luhan, who held up a defensive hand.

“Hey, that’s just what I heard. He just vanished, didn’t even come watch the competitions anymore. Bro, can I grab a soda?”

Yixing opened the fridge and slid a can of cola across the counter towards Luhan, who dropped a handful of coins beside the register.

“Nah, he’s still around,” Yixing said. “He just didn’t come back to skating after his accident, that’s all. Why? What’s got you two interested in ancient history all of a sudden?”

“Luhan needs a coach.”

Yixing snorted. “And you thought of Minseok? Keep dreaming.”

“He’s the best there’s ever been,” Baekhyun said. “If anyone can get Luhan to land a 1080 rocket, it’s Kim Minseok.”

Yixing raised his eyebrows as he scooped Luhan’s money off the counter and dropped it into the till. “Forget about it, Baek. Minseok quit for a reason. He’s not coming out of retirement for any punk-ass flatlander.”

Luhan bristled. “I’m not a flatlander!”

“Land a 900 mistiest and tell me that again.”

Luhan scowled and popped the tab of his cola. While he was occupied taking an aggressive sip, Baekhyun leaned even further over the counter towards Yixing.

“So wait, do you know Minseok? Like, personally?”

“Yeah, duh.” Yixing picked up his phone to change the music. “We were mates long before he ever went pro. Goddamit, Baekhyun, what’s your bloody boyfriend doing now?”

Yixing dropped his phone on the shelf and yanked the office door open. A second later he was over the railing and whizzing across the rink with Baekhyun on his heels to break up Chanyeol’s latest tussle with Kris.

Luhan, left alone in the corner, hesitated for a conscience-wrangling second before leaning over the counter to grab Yixing’s phone. He tapped the screen to wake it up before it locked itself again, then navigated to the home screen and opened the contact list. He was hoping for a chat contact, or a phone number he could call, but when he found the entry labelled “Minseok” there was something even better - an address. Luhan read over it, repeating it to himself a couple of times, then hit the home key and locked the phone, dropping it back on the shelf just as Yixing returned.

“I swear to god, Kris, you start one more fight and I’m banning you.” He jumped over the railing and slid back into the office.

“Hey, we’re just playing around,” Kris said, giving Luhan a friendly punch in the shoulder by way of greeting.

“Yeah, but you playing around is getting in the way of other skaters. You wanna play fight, do it outside.” Yixing grabbed a bag of cheetos from the snack shelves and tossed it at Kris, then held out a hand for his coins. “How you doing there, Luhan?”

“Good, good.” Luhan ducked his head to hide the guilty colour in his cheeks as he typed the address into a note on his phone. This was definitely a Bad Idea and would almost certainly get him in a lot of trouble, but Luhan couldn’t shake the feeling that it was worth a shot. At the very least he needed to try. And who knows, maybe he’d be able to convince Kim Minseok to come back to skating. After all, they’d all had their share of accidents. Luhan remembered only too well his own broken wrist. Kris had fractured his ankle once and was out for a good six months, and Baekhyun’s dislocated knees were the stuff of legends. Luhan figured if Minseok had been out of the game for three years, he’d had plenty of time to rest and recover. Maybe all he needed was a bit of encouragement.

-

The house was bigger than he expected, fancier and almost intimidatingly well-kept. Maybe Kim Minseok hadn’t retired because of an injury, Luhan thought. Maybe he’d retired because he married some nice rich girl and moved to this disgustingly moneyed suburb with their well-trained dog and twins-on-the-way. Set back from the road, with a cobbled driveway and manicured hedges along the front, the mere sight of the place was nearly enough to turn Luhan on his heel and send him pedalling in the other direction. Luhan suddenly imagined Minseok’s English butler answering the door, taking one look at this dirty skater kid, and sending him packing. Well, he decided, better to strike out than give up. He steeled himself and wheeled his bike up to the front door.

The doorbell was answered with a resounding buzz, then the crackle of speakers.

“Hello?”

The butler wasn’t English. This, of all things, threw Luhan.

“Uh, yeah, hi. I'm looking for Kim Minseok?”

“Yeah, dude, what can I do for you?”

Oh fuck. It wasn’t a butler at all. It was Kim Minseok himself, answering his own damn intercom, and Luhan realised he was halfway through the most important conversation of his life without even knowing it had begun.

“Oh, shit. I mean, I mean-” Luhan felt the blush spreading through his cheeks and was suddenly very glad they were having this conversation through a speaker. “Um, hi, my name's Luhan, I'm a skater- uh, I know it's super weird that I came to see you, but I really need some help, and I know you're retired and all but I was just really hoping maybe you might be able to help me, cause I'm gonna enter the East Xtreme championship but I know talent isn't enough to win and I was hoping you could maybe teach me some of your tricks…”

Luhan trailed off and realised the echo of the intercom had cut to silence. Minseok had hung up on him. Luhan just stared at it for a moment, trying not to let his heart break, and was just about to turn and wheel his bike back down the driveway when there was the sound of a deadbolt being drawn back. A second later, the door swung open.

“And how do you propose I do that?”

Luhan blinked at the man behind the door. Kim Minseok was shorter than expected, positively tiny - and then Luhan realised he was sitting. Minseok's left hand was on the door, right hand on his wheelchair, and for a split second Luhan thought he'd had a more recent injury than the one that took him out of the rink. Then he looked down at the chair and saw the left shoe, left knee, left leg of Minseok's jeans, and then the right, falling flat at mid-thigh. No knee. No shoe.

No leg.

Luhan began to realise that he had made a horrible mistake.

“Oh, shit.” Luhan smacked a hand over his mouth. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t- I swear I wouldn’t have-”

“I love this part.” Minseok, incredibly, was smirking up at him, one eyebrow raised. “What’s wrong, dude? Not what you expected?”

“Fuck.” Luhan struggled for better vocabulary. “I’m really sorry man, I didn’t realise. I’ll just go-”

“Nah, bro.” Minseok let go of the door and swivelled his chair around to face the hallway. “I’m just having a cup of coffee. Why don’t you come on in and tell me how you found my house?”

Luhan gaped after him. After a moment Minseok, now halfway down the hall, glanced back over his shoulder.

“Come on! You can leave your bike there, no-one’s gonna steal it. Kick the door shut behind you.”

Luhan leaned his bike against the wall and tiptoed inside, pushing the door shut behind him as quietly as he could. Minseok had disappeared into the room at the other end of the hall - Luhan could see the edge of his wheelchair through the doorway, but Minseok no longer seemed to be in it. Carefully Luhan crept down the hall and peered around the door.

“I love that you were sneaky enough to get my address, pushy enough to actually show up at my house, and now you’re shy,” Minseok said, not looking over his shoulder where he stood at the counter. He reached out, one hand on the bench to keep his balance, and flicked on the coffee grinder next to him. Over the immediate racket, he called, “take a seat!”

The only available seat seemed to be a barstool on the other side of the counter, around the corner from where Minseok stood. Luhan clambered up onto it and folded his hands in his lap.

“Cappuccino okay?” Minseok asked as the grinder whirred into silence.

“Uh, sure.”

“Chill.” Minseok slid the portafilter back into the machine and put a cup under the spout, then turned and hopped over to the fridge, from which he retrieved a bottle of milk.

“So tell me, dude. How’d you find me? I don’t recognise you from competitions back in the day, which means you probably never came here for a party. So how’d you figure out where I live?”

Luhan bit his lip and tried to suppress the blush in his cheeks. He should have come up with an answer for this ahead of time - he didn’t want to outright tell Minseok that he stole his address from Yixing’s phone, nor did he want to suggest that Yixing had willingly given it to him.

“I… got it from a friend,” he said finally. “I’m really sorry, man, I shouldn’t have-”

“Cool,” Minseok interrupted him. “So we’ve got a friend in common, that’s pretty chill.” He began steaming the milk in a small metal jug, calling over the screech of the wand. “How long have you been skating for?”

“About four years,” Luhan called back.

“Nice.” Minseok flicked the machine off and took the cup from under the spout. “That’s about as long as I’ve not been skating. A little longer. Around three years, for me. There you go, man, try that.” He put the cup down on the counter in front of Luhan and turned to hop his way back to his wheelchair.

Luhan took a polite sip, then another, this one bigger, as he realised Minseok’s coffee was actually pretty good.

“Good?”

“Uh. yeah.” Luhan cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“No worries.” Minseok released the brakes on his chair and wheeled himself over to the dining table behind Luhan in the non-kitchen half of the room. Luhan turned around on the barstool to face him, and for a second there was quiet as Minseok picked up his own cup from the table and drank.

“So.” Minseok swivelled himself sideways to the table, cup in hand as he looked Luhan up and down. “You think you’re championship material, huh?”

Luhan swallowed. Confidence had gotten him this far, but now he was sitting here, looking glory incarnate in the face, and all the bravado was gone.

“I hope so,” he said. “I mean, I know I’m good - I’ve always been good - but this is a bigger competition than I’ve ever been in, and I just can’t get some of my stuff to work. I’ve been trying to get some better vert spins into my line, but I keep falling on my head.”

“Okay, so you’re almost championship material.” Minseok put his cup down and leaned forward, hands clasped around his knee. “You know it’s not about how hard your tricks are, right? You can place with the easiest moves as long as you do them well.”

“I know,” Luhan said, “but there’s placing, and then there’s winning.”

“Well, yeah.” Minseok picked up his cup again and took a sip, eyebrows raised over the rim. “You wanna win, you gotta be able to do something a bit harder than a misty flip.”

Luhan just nodded.

“You got any videos, man?” Minseok said. “On YouTube, or whatever? I’d love to see what you’ve got.”

“Uh, yeah.” Luhan fished his phone out of his pocket. “Here.” He flipped through videos until he found last week’s session at the park with Baekhyun and Chanyeol, then slid down off the barstool and passed the phone to Minseok.

Minseok watched the whole video in silence, an agonising three minutes while Luhan chewed his thumbnail and scrutinised Minseok’s face for any flicker of approval or dislike. When the video ended and Minseok’s face was still completely impassive, Luhan wanted to sink into the ground. No reaction at all? Minseok must have been totally bored the whole time.

Then, Minseok gave a little shrug of his mouth, a tiny nod of approval.

“That’s pretty good, bro.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Minseok handed the phone back. “You’ve got some nice moves. Who’s the other dude?”

“Oh! That’s my friend Baekhyun. His boyfriend’s the one filming. He’s pretty good too, right?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Minseok nodded. “Not as good as you, though.”

“What?” Luhan’s jaw dropped.

“He’s got some solid stuff, but he’s not as adventurous as you are. Don’t tell him I said that, I don’t wanna crush his dreams or anything.”

“No, for sure. Oh man. Thank you so much.” Luhan put his phone down on the counter and grabbed his coffee to take a giddy mouthful. Nice moves. Pretty good. Praise from Kim Minseok. Holy shit.

“I call it how I see it, my friend.” Minseok leaned back in his chair and slotted his hands behind his head. “You’ve got good stuff there, keep at it.”

“Fuck. Thank you so much, man, you have no idea-”

“I have a pretty good idea.” Minseok grinned. “Now my question is, what are you hoping for from me?”

Luhan’s stomach dropped. Of course they were gonna come back to this.

“Um. Well.” Luhan cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, I was originally hoping I could ask you to be my coach. But, uh, seeing as you’re- I mean, you don’t seem like you’re still interested in- in- anything like that, so, uh, I won’t ask you. For that. Um.”

“Okay, bro. Suits me.” Minseok smirked and drained the last of his coffee. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still super into skating, but I also really really like being alone in this stupid big house and not going outside. I haven’t been to a rink since this happened.” He pointed down at the absence of his right leg.

“That’s why you retired?” Luhan couldn’t help but pry. “I mean, they just said you had an accident and didn’t come back afterwards, I didn’t realise-”

“You thought it was a skating accident?” Minseok laughed. “Nah, bro, I got wiped out on my bike by some cunt at an intersection. Fucking crushed, kevlar and all. Apparently it was a choice between a fucktonne of reconstructive surgery and a lifetime of pain, or this. So I ended up with Shorty-” a tap of his right thigh “- and the skates ended up in the back of the closet.”

“Wow.” Luhan struggled for a moment, searching for words that weren’t cheap or cliche. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “That’s fucking rough.”

“Ah.” Minseok waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not that bad. I’m most pissed off about the tattoos, you know? I had about two thousand bucks of artwork on that leg, and now it’s all over the pavement at Church and Main. Silver lining, though, at least it took the awful scratcher I got when I was sixteen.”

Luhan gave a surprised laugh and received a sly grin in return.

“How are you so positive, man?” he said. “I was fucking miserable when I broke my wrist and couldn’t skate, and that was only a couple weeks.”

“Oh, brother, are we getting philosophical here?” Minseok rolled his eyes. “Shit happens, man, I’m not gonna be depressed and bitter the rest of my life just because I can’t skate anymore. I got better shit to do. And I bet I can still run faster on crutches than you can on your chicken legs. Seriously, dude, eat some protein.”

Luhan laughed again, and this time Minseok laughed with him. Reaching up to adjust his beanie on his head, he gave Luhan a wink.

“Okay, I don’t wanna be rude, but I got shit to do today so I gotta kick you out now.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Luhan scrambled down off the barstool. “Thanks, man. For the coffee, and for- uh-”

“No sweat.” Minseok held out his hand for Luhan to shake. “Thanks for stopping by, creepy as it is that you have my address. Good luck with the championship. What was your name again?”

“Oh! Luhan. My name’s Luhan.”

“Nice to meet you, Luhan. Good luck. I’ll be keeping an eye out for you.”

“Thanks. Seriously, thank you so much.” Luhan followed Minseok down the hallway to the front door.

“Don’t mention it. Take care, buddy.” Minseok opened the door for him and waited while Luhan picked up his bike and wheeled it down the driveway. When Luhan reached the street and looked over his shoulder, Minseok was leaning forward in his chair to pick a stray leaf off the low hedge beside the doorstep. Luhan paused, watched him for a second, then smiled and swung a leg over his bike to pedal in the direction of downtown.

-

It took him fifteen tries, but Luhan finally managed to land without completely wiping out. With a whoop and both fists in the air, he took off around the rink for a victory lap.

“Nice one!” Yixing yelled from the office. “You’re officially not a flatlander anymore.”

“Damn fucking right!” Luhan took another run at the ramp and flipped up, feet above his head as he spun. Absorbed in the triumph of the moment, he misjudged the landing and came down toes-first, flipping forward and sliding down the ramp on his face.

“I take it back,” Yixing called. “Still a flatlander.”

“Ahh,” another voice added, “this is a familiar sight.”

Luhan picked himself up off the floor and saw Baekhyun gliding across the rink towards him.

“Fuck off,” he said, grabbing Baekhyun’s hand and clapping him on the back, “I just had it, you should have seen me like two minutes ago.”

“Yeah, sure.” Baekhyun smacked his shoulder as they parted. “Have you been here all day?”

“Yeah, mostly.” Luhan twisted his arm around and craned his neck to check how badly the ramp had scraped his elbow pad. “Why?”

“Explains why you haven’t been answering your phone. I called you like five times.”

“What?” Luhan frowned. “No you didn’t, I-” he stopped, hand in his pocket. No phone. “Okay, where the fuck-?” He turned around, scanning the ground, but it didn’t look like he’d dropped it in the rink. Worried now, he skated over to the side and vaulted the railing to grab his duffel bag from the bleachers. Not in there, either - just his water bottle and jacket, with empty pockets.

“What have you lost?” Yixing said, leaning out over the counter.

“Have you seen my phone?” Luhan crouched down to look under the seats. “I swear it was in my pocket.”

Yixing shook his head. “When did you last have it?”

“I don’t know, like earlier today? Fuck, man, that phone’s my life, it’s got all my music on it, all my videos…” Luhan trailed off, horror rising through his cheeks as he realised where he’d last seen his phone.

“Try retracing your steps,” Baekhyun offered. “Where were you before you came to the rink?”

“Uh.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d left it on the kitchen counter at Minseok’s house. “Uh, I think I know where it is. It’s, uh, at a- a- friend’s house.” Fuuuck.

How the fuck was he gonna get it back now? The only thing more awkward than randomly stalking a celebrity and turning up at their house was forgetting your shit there and having to go back.

“Oh, awesome.” Baekhyun slapped him on the back. “You can just go back and get it then. Problem solved.”

No, not problem solved, Luhan thought. Problem worse. Biggest problem of his life happening right now.

If the phone had been sitting on Minseok’s kitchen counter all day and he hadn’t answered it any of the times that Baekhyun had called, then he probably wasn’t going to answer it now. That meant the only way to get in touch with him was to call Minseok’s own phone. Luhan briefly imagined asking Yixing for his phone, pretending he was calling himself and instead calling Minseok. He imagined the inevitable moment when Yixing saw a call to Minseok in his dial history. He imagined Minseok realising that Luhan had gotten his address from Yixing.

Luhan shook that entire train of thought out of his head. There was only one solution. He would have to go back to Minseok’s house.

-

Luhan dragged his old alarm clock out of retirement and got up early the next morning to bike the hour to Minseok’s house. By the time he rang the doorbell he was already tired, and beyond caring whether Minseok was about to get pissed off at him for disturbing him again.

“Yo!”

“Uh-” Luhan blinked at the intercom. “Hi, Minseok? It’s Luhan again - from yesterday. I-”

“Yeah, come on in, buddy.”

“- just came for… my… phone.” Luhan trailed off into silence as the whine of the intercom gave way to a loud buzz and then a clunk from the door. Luhan, after a second of hesitation, tested the handle and found it unlocked. Creeping into the hallway, he pushed the door shut behind him.

“In here!”

Luhan followed the shout down the hall. Stepping into the kitchen, he turned and saw Minseok on the far side of the living area, hanging from a bar in the corner.

“Hey, man! Hit the red button.”

“Wha...t?”

Minseok swung his leg up, pointing his foot at the kitchen counter. “The coffee machine. Red button. Press it.” He let his leg drop and pulled himself up towards the bar. This, Luhan realised, was Minseok’s gym - a triangular frame with a bench either side and a chin-up bar across the middle.

“Uh-” Luhan looked at the coffee machine, then cautiously pushed the centre button. The machine hummed to life, spitting coffee into the cup sitting under the spout. “Okay, uh, done. Um, sorry, I left my phone here by mistake yesterday.”

“I noticed.” Minseok flashed a grin. “Baekhyun and ‘Galaxy’ were blowing it up all afternoon.”

“Oh.” Luhan scratched a hand across the back of his head. “Well, I just came to get it, so-”

“Yeah, I know. But now that you’re here you might as well, right?”

Luhan blinked, confused, then followed Minseok’s gaze as the coffee machine gave a cheerful ping. Suddenly, it twigged. The clean cup, the shot already tamped and loaded - Minseok had been expecting him. The coffee had just been awaiting his arrival.

“Oh. Oh!” Luhan blushed, flustered and embarrassed.

“I’ll do some milk for you,” Minseok said, dropping from the bar and holding onto the side rail for balance. “Just gimme a sec.”

“Oh, no!” Luhan grabbed the cup out from under the spout. “You don’t have to, it’s good like this.”

Minseok looked up at him, one smirking eyebrow raised. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Luhan cradled the cup between his hands. “I like espresso.”

“Awesome. In that case…” Minseok crouched, balanced precariously with one hand on the frame of his gym, to pick up a ball from the basket in the corner. “Don’t mind me. I gotta do all this shit every day.”

He shuffled over to the wall and leaned there, the ball sandwiched between his hip and the wall. As Luhan watched, he began to do careful squats, the tied-off leg of his sweatpants swinging back with every bend of his knee.

Luhan took a careful sip of his coffee. There was a weird kind of fascination in watching Minseok work out. The patchwork of tattoos down his arms, the stud through his lip, his general air of complete indifference - they all seemed totally at odds with this kind of concentration. Minseok looked down at his knee like its path over his foot was of the utmost importance. Luhan wondered what that gaze might feel like directed at him.

After about twenty squats, Minseok straightened up and lobbed the ball back towards its basket. He gave himself a high-five as it it went neatly in, then hopped back towards his wheelchair, parked beside the gym frame.

“If I’ve only got three they might as well be strong, right?” he said, lowering himself into the chair and releasing the brakes.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Minseok wheeled himself around the counter to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said, turning himself carefully around with one hand to look at Luhan.

“Huh?”

“I will coach you.”

Luhan practically felt the clunk of his jaw hitting the floor.

“What?”

“My conditions. One: you do not tell anyone I am coaching you.”

Luhan nodded vigorously. “Uh, yeah. Absolutely.”

“And two: we only practise alone. Probably at night. In a location of my choosing.”

“Um. Sure.”

“I like my privacy,” Minseok said. “And more than my privacy, I really like my legacy. As far as anybody knows, I just vanished off the face of the earth. I’d like to keep it that way. I went out on top, and as long as I never come back, that’s where I’ll stay. None of this shit getting in the way.” He gave Shorty a flick, then set his glass down by the sink and came back around the counter. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah. Deal.” Luhan shook Minseok’s offered hand and felt his heart give an excited little squeeze. Kim Minseok. Kim Fucking Minseok. Coaching him. Holy crap.

-

Luhan was so excited to begin practising that evening that he pedalled like a madman all the way from the rink and ended up arriving at Minseok’s house half an hour early. He rang the doorbell and stepped back, trying to get his breath under control as he waited for Minseok to answer.

“Lu! C’mon in, I’m in the kitchen.”

The door buzzed and Luhan pushed it open.

“You’re early!” Minseok called from the other end of the hall.

“Am I?” Luhan pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Oh, shit. Sorry!”

“No problem, dude. Come join me.”

Luhan stepped into the kitchen and saw Minseok perched on one of the barstools, dinner in front of him.

“Oh, man,” Luhan said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you-”

“Have you eaten?” Minseok cut him off.

“I- No.”

“Then grab a plate.” Minseok nodded toward the cupboards. “Second to the left of the fridge. Rice in the cooker, stew on the stove.”

Luhan shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna take your food, man-”

“What, you think I’m a bad cook?” Minseok grinned into his fork. “Eat, bro. I’m gonna be pushing you hard tonight, an empty stomach’s not gonna help you.”

Luhan opened the cupboard to take a plate. He served himself the smallest helping he thought Minseok would let him get away with, then joined him at the counter.

“No wonder you’ve got chicken legs, if that’s all you eat,” Minseok commented.

“I’m not that hungry,” Luhan said.

“You will be.” Minseok smirked sideways at him.

Luhan blushed and ducked his head on the pretense of shovelling rice into his mouth. Minseok chuckled and went back to his own plate.

“So what have you been up to today?” Minseok asked, after an interlude of silence.

“Uh. Just at the rink?”

“Yeah?” Minseok glanced at him. “You didn’t have work or anything?”

Luhan shook his head. “No. I… don’t. At the moment.”

“Just like me!” Minseok gave a twisted little smile.

“I think you’ve got a bit more of an excuse than I have,” Luhan said.

Minseok snorted, then nodded. “Fair point. There’s not a lot I can do on one leg.”

Luhan glanced down at Minseok’s hand, resting on Shorty. “You don’t have a prosthesis or anything?”

“Nah.” Minseok shook his head. “I mean, I do. They fitted me for a basic prosthetic, back in the day. But I hated it. It hurt, it rubbed me raw, and the surgery to make it work would have just been more time and hassle and pain. I didn’t want to go through all that bullshit again.”

Luhan grimaced. “That sucks.”

“Nah,” Minseok waved a hand. “Wheels are cooler anyway. And I’m pretty good on crutches, so it’s not like I’m totally immobile. It’s just kinda hard to find something interesting to do when all you’ve ever known is sport, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

Minseok scooped the last forkful of rice into his mouth and slid off the barstool. “Okay, you done?” He took the empty plates and hopped with them to the sink. “I’m gonna do the dishes later. Let’s go.”

He led the way down the hallway to the last door, right near the entrance. Pushing it open, he flipped a switch and let himself roll down the ramp into what, as the lights came on, Luhan realised was a garage.

“You see my baby?” Minseok called, already on the other side of the black van nearest the door.

“Huh?”

Luhan followed him around the van, and saw it. Bright red, sleek and polished with shining chrome and spotless tyres, was a bike. Minseok was sitting next to it, not quite close enough to touch, just looking as if caressing it with his eyes.

“Wow,” Luhan breathed.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Minseok said. “A friend of mine rebuilt her for me after the accident. I’ll never be able to ride her again, but I can’t bear to sell her, so she’s just sitting here. It’s a shame, huh?”

Luhan just nodded. The motorcycle was beautiful, much bigger than any bike Luhan had ever ridden, and clearly hadn’t been touched in a long time. The tyres were unmarked - Luhan suspected she had been rebuilt in this very garage and hadn’t left it since.

Looking at the sheer size of her, Luhan shivered. The bike was so big, and Minseok was so small; Luhan could imagine how something of that size falling on a person could easily take off a leg or more. An image flashed into his mind of Minseok, pinned beneath that bike, skidding across the road with a trail of sparks and blood behind him. Luhan shook himself to clear that thought.

“You coming?”

Luhan turned around. Minseok was peering expectantly at him over the hood of the van.

“Oh! Yep, sorry.” Luhan jogged over to the passenger door and climbed in. As Minseok settled himself behind the wheel, Luhan gave him an appraising look.

“You drive?”

“Of course I drive.” Minseok picked up a remote from the console and clicked it, and the door in front of them began to wind up. “Took ages to get used to using my left foot, though.” He rolled forward out of the garage and stopped on the driveway to let the door close behind them. “You know this is the only way I can get out of my house now?”

Luhan looked at him sideways until he elaborated.

“The front door has a doorstep.”

“… Oh!” Luhan slapped a palm to his forehead. “Oh my god, of course it does!”

“One small step for man, one giant obstacle for a wheelchair.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s why I had the ramp put in. The front doorstep is concrete, but the garage was wood so it was pretty easy to take it out and put a board in there.”

“So you haven’t been out the front door in three years?”

“No, I have.” Minseok turned onto the highway and began heading in the direction of downtown. “Just not in my chair. I mean, it’s fine if I’m on crutches. And like, the two times I used the leg.”

“Wow. Man.” Luhan shook his head in amazement. All these little things that he would never have considered would be an obstacle to a person in a wheelchair.

“So where are we headed?” he asked after a moment.

“A little rink just on the edge of town,” Minseok said. “I know the guy who runs it, he’ll make sure we have privacy. I mean, they’ll be closed anyway by now, so there shouldn’t be anyone else there, but just in case.”

Luhan nodded and went back to looking out the window.

“Question.”

“Answer,” Minseok said.

“Why do you use a wheelchair? I mean, your other leg is fine, right? Wouldn’t it be easier to use crutches?”

Minseok darted a glance at him before returning his eyes to the road.

“It’s not that I don’t like using my leg,” he said. “It’s that I do like using my hands.”

“… Huh?”

“When I use crutches, I’ve effectively got three legs and no hands. It’s hell. I’m more mobile, yes, but at the cost of a complete lack of independence.”

Luhan frowned, trying to make sense of that.

“I would think crutches would be more independent,” he said.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Minseok shot him a wry smile. “But have you ever tried carrying a cup of coffee on them?”

Luhan blinked, then realised. “Ohhh! Crap. I didn’t think of it like that.”

“Neither did I, until the first time I tried to go out on my own.”

Luhan snorted, and Minseok chuckled, and then they were both laughing.

“So anyway,” Minseok grinned, “that’s why I prefer wheels. I’m pretty good at holding stuff between my thighs. And I’m like a human shopping cart when I go out with my friends - they just pile stuff on me and push.”

“Nice.” Luhan looked over and caught Minseok’s eye to return his smile. As Minseok winked and turned off the road, Luhan realised they had arrived at the rink. He blinked up at the sign on the front of the warehouse - he’d been expecting some obscure place out in the middle of nowhere, but this was Yixing’s rink. He’d literally just been here a few hours ago.

“Here?”

“Yeah, dude.” Minseok climbed out and threw open the rear door of the van to retrieve his wheelchair. “You know this place?”

“Know it, I-”

“What the fuck-?”

Luhan turned around and saw Yixing, one hand on the doorframe and the other over his mouth.

“Xingy Xing!” Minseok spun his chair around. “Long time no see, man, how you been?”

Yixing crossed the distance between them in three long strides, then bent down and wrapped his arms around Minseok’s shoulders. Minseok gave him a couple of pats on the back, but Yixing didn’t seem inclined to let go, cheek pressed against the side of Minseok’s head.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said, giving Minseok a squeeze and straightening up just enough to look him in the eyes.

“I thought I should come see you. See how the rink’s getting on without me.”

“It’s good, buddy, things are good. I’ve got a new generation of grommets, some of them are pretty promising - a couple of them remind me of you in the old days.”

“Awesome.” Minseok craned his neck to look back at Luhan. “Lu, this is Xingy Dingy. He and I-”

“Luhan?” Yixing seemed to notice him for the first time.

“Oh, you know each other?”

“Of course I know Luhan, he skates here every day.”

“Yeah,” Luhan said. “I was here until I came to yours, actually.”

“You- you were at Minseok’s house?”

Yixing seemed thoroughly confused, but Minseok looked like he suddenly understood something.

“Is that how you got my address?” He smirked over his shoulder at Luhan, who felt his face flush bright red.

“What?” Yixing gaped. “No, I didn’t tell him- I just-” he broke off and stared at Luhan. “Is this why you were asking me whether he was still alive?”

Minseok burst out laughing. “Did you think I was dead?”

Luhan held up his hands. “It was just a rumour!”

Minseok, still laughing, pushed past Yixing to maneuver himself up the ramp and through the door of the warehouse.

“You and I are going to have a serious talk tomorrow,” Yixing hissed at Luhan.

“No you’re not!” Minseok called over his shoulder. “No berating my proteges without permission.”

“Your- your what?” Yixing hurried into the warehouse after Minseok. “What is going on here?”

“Nothing,” Minseok brushed him off with a wave of one hand. “I’m just giving Lulu some friendly advice. A bit of late-night coaching, that’s all.”

“Coaching?!” Yixing pressed a hand to his chest and staggered over to the bleachers. “I need to sit down.”

“Alright, Luhan!” Minseok snapped his fingers and pointed over the barrier at the rink. “Skates on, let’s see what you got.”

Luhan nodded and sat down on the bench next to Yixing to pull his shoes off.

“Exactly how the hell did you manage to rope him into this?” Yixing muttered. “Last I remember, we agreed you would forget all about Minseok and not try to find him. What the fuck happened in the intervening forty-eight hours between then and now that has him at my rink, suddenly desperate to be your coach?”

Luhan ducked his head to fasten his skates, the tips of his ears flaming pink. “Um, funny story,” he said. “And you would probably kill me, so I’m not going to tell you. Okay Minseok I’m ready let’s do this!” He launched himself up off the bench and vaulted the barrier away from Yixing’s indignant glare.

It was only when Luhan was halfway up the first ramp that he remembered how important this session was. This was his evaluation, his chance to show Minseok that he was a good skater worthy of his time and attention. This skate was as important as the championship; without one, he wouldn’t have a hope at the other.

He stumbled over the second grind, but recovered enough to rocket over the ramp without falling. At the last ramp, he psyched himself up enough to throw himself into a 900 mistiest, spinning dizzily as his feet flew into the air. Halfway around he looked up and caught a flash of Minseok’s expression - arms folded, eyebrows raised, one finger tracing across his chin.

Luhan hit the ramp hard, tumbling down in a clatter of gloves and kneepads. Sliding to a stop at the bottom, he lay there for a second, panting for breath as he tried to redefine up.

“You okay?”

For a second Luhan did not answer. Then he swallowed, discarded the pieces of his pride, and sat up.

“I’m fine.”

He picked himself up off the floor and skated back over to the side, where Minseok was leaning with both elbows on the railing.

“You want my thoughts?” Minseok said.

Luhan nodded.

“You gotta chill.”

Luhan blinked at him. He’d been expecting a critique of his talent or technique, not… that.

“You’re skating to impress me,” Minseok continued. “You’re never gonna win with that attitude. You gotta skate for the joy of it.”

When Luhan didn’t respond, he raised an eyebrow.

“You do enjoy skating, right?”

“Yeah!” Luhan said. “Of course, I love it, I just - I don’t know how to show that I do.”

“You don’t have to show it,” Minseok said. “That’s the point. Do it for you, not for anyone who might be watching. While you’re still doing it to impress other people, you’ll always be reaching for what you think they want. Fuck what they want. Do what you want. Once you’re skating one hundred percent for yourself, then it will start to show.”

Luhan nodded, then pushed back from the barrier.

“This time, don’t do the moves you think are the most impressive,” Minseok suggested. “Do the shit that’s the most fun.”

He caught Luhan’s eye and grinned. Luhan nodded, grinned back, and turned to take another run at the first ramp.

-

Every night that week, Luhan met Minseok at the rink to practise. He would leave with Baekhyun and Chanyeol when Yixing kicked them out, bike with them to the crossroads where they went right and he went left, then ride around the block and go straight back to the rink.

The upshot of all that skating, though, was that half an hour into their evening practise Luhan would be exhausted, wilting and tripping and wiping out on flips. Finally, Minseok stopped him.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” he said, passing Luhan his water bottle over the barrier.

“Dunno,” Luhan shrugged. “Probably just gonna be here.”

“No.” Minseok shook his head. “You’re going too hard, man. You’re useless to me if you’re already tired by the time I get my hands on you. You gotta do something other than skate.”

Luhan shrugged. “What else do I do?”

“You come over to my house,” Minseok said. “I’m gonna teach you how to land that 900 mistiest.”

“Really? How?”

“Home videos, my dude. I am the all-time master of shit like that. You wanna learn those flips, you study me. There’s about twenty different videos on YouTube of me nailing it.”

Luhan bit back a grin. Somehow Minseok’s quiet confidence in his own greatness never quite felt like bragging.

“So tomorrow, you come see me. No skating until then. Xingy, he turns up here, you kick him out, alright?”

Yixing shrugged. “Sure. Twenty-four hour ban.”

“Awesome,” Minseok said. “Sleep in tomorrow and come see me after lunch.”

-

This time Luhan managed to arrive at Minseok’s house a full hour early. His ring of the doorbell was answered not by the intercom but by Minseok himself, pulling the door open with an air of great amusement.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised by now,” he said, wheeling himself back to let Luhan in.

“Sorry,” Luhan said. “I can go if you want me to, I know I’m way early-”

“Nah.” Minseok closed the door and turned around, but instead of leading the way to the kitchen he turned the corner and let himself roll down into the garage. “You can keep me company in here.”

Luhan followed him through the door, then stopped dead. Minseok had parked himself next to his bike and was polishing it, hands moving in neat little circles across the metal. Luhan recognised the same kind of perfect concentration Minseok applied to his exercises, the dedicated set of his mouth like this was the most important task in the universe.

Of course - of course. Luhan had looked at the bike and thought it hadn’t been touched in years. But if that were the case, it would be covered in dust. Instead it was clean, spotless and sparkling with Minseok’s careful attention.

Luhan wondered how often Minseok did this. He wondered if his heart broke a little each time.

He wondered if it was anything like the way his own heart was breaking now.

“Hey, Minseok-” Luhan cleared his throat and stepped closer.

“Mhm?” Minseok did not look up from the bike.

“Wh- uh-” Luhan didn’t even know how to begin to ask the question.

Minseok did not prod him, just began a new line of careful little circles across the surface of the metal. Perhaps he had forgotten that Luhan was even there.

“Do you ever want to ride her again?” Luhan said finally.

“Every day.” Minseok’s voice was even and matter-of-fact. Devoid of emotion.

Luhan swallowed hard and tried to unstick his voice from his throat.

“I dunno if you- I mean, I can tell that you- I mean.” Luhan took a deep breath and tried again. “If- if you wanted, I could- we could go for a ride.”

Minseok stopped polishing. He closed his eyes and seemed to just breathe for a second, head falling that fraction forward.

Luhan held his breath until Minseok looked back up at the bike. Then his hand resumed its tight little circles. Finally, he spoke.

“No.”

Luhan’s heart sank a little.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t, Luhan. I no longer have the necessary body parts to ride this bike.”

“No, but- but I do.”

At that Minseok stopped. He turned in his chair to fix Luhan with a look that was almost derisive.

“You?”

“Yeah, I- I used to ride dirtbikes with my uncle.”

Minseok snorted. “This is not a dirtbike.”

“No, no of course not. But it’s the same principle, right?”

Minseok’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment neither of them spoke.

“So what,” Minseok said finally. “You’d ride her, and I’d sit pillion?”

“Yeah?” Luhan twisted his hands together and tried not to look too hopeful.

“You realise, don’t you, that I am a cautionary tale of what happens when this goes wrong.”

Luhan held Minseok’s gaze and let the silence sit. After a long minute, Minseok sighed.

“I’m going to regret this. I just know I’m going to regret this.”

He put his brakes on and stood up. Luhan bit his lip to hold back a grin as Minseok hopped over to the cupboard in the corner of the garage and yanked it open.

“Don’t you make that face at me,” Minseok said, not even looking over his shoulder as he pulled a leather jacket from the cupboard and threw it at Luhan. “Put that on. If it smells like it’s been sitting in storage for three years that’s because it has. What shoes are you wearing?” He turned to squint at Luhan’s Doc Martens. “Yeah, those’ll do. You can wear my gloves, and here-” he took a helmet from the cupboard. “I’m assuming your head isn’t too much fatter than mine.”

Luhan pulled the helmet on and fastened it, then watched Minseok take another leather jacket and helmet from the cupboard. He pulled off his beanie, and Luhan blinked in surprise. For some reason he hadn’t expected Minseok to have purple hair. He didn’t know why anything about Minseok still surprised him.

“Okay.” Minseok turned around and hopped back over to the bike. “You know how this works, right? Clutch, gears, front brake, back brake.” He pointed at the levers and pedals. “Don’t mix them up or we might die.”

Luhan nodded, his heart pounding as he swung a leg over the bike. Minseok put his hand on the seat and gave a little hop, then sighed and tapped Luhan’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna need you to give me a hand here.”

Luhan slid off and offered Minseok his hand.

“No, like, actually help me on.”

“Oh, right.” Luhan looked between Minseok and the bike, then wrapped an arm around Minseok’s waist and hoisted him up as he jumped.

“Yeah, there we go!” Minseok settled himself on the back of the seat and busied himself with tucking the empty leg of his pants through his belt. “Oh, before you get on, grab the remote from the car.”

Luhan retrieved the remote and hit the button to open the roller door as he climbed back onto the bike.

“And if I’m right,” Minseok said, shuffling forward to hold Luhan by the waist, “the keys should be in your right-hand pocket.”

Luhan stuck his hand into his pocket and came up holding a small keyring with two keys and a chipped plastic cat dangling from it.

“The silver one,” Minseok directed. Luhan stuck the key into the ignition, turned it on and grasped the clutch and throttle.

“Ready?”

“With you at the helm? Never.”

Luhan grinned and pressed the start button.

The bike roared to life. Minseok laughed as Luhan jumped back, releasing the throttle so that the growl settled to a gentle purr.

“Okay, kickstand on your left. Careful, she’s heavy.”

Luhan put a foot down and maneuvered the bike down off its stand. As he shuffled more squarely into the seat, Minseok’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Just round the block, okay?” Minseok called into his ear. “I don’t trust you on the main roads.”

Luhan nodded and put the bike into gear, then carefully eased off the clutch. They sprang forward, leaping out of the garage with a jolt.

“Easy!” Minseok said. “You gotta treat her gentler than that, she’s a lady!”

Luhan stopped at the foot of the driveway and checked the street, which was utterly devoid of traffic.

“Ready to roll?”

“Just go,” Minseok said.

By the end of the first block Luhan had his hand back in. The years of dirtbikes were a transferrable skill, and once he got used to the power of Minseok’s bike it wasn’t too different. They roared away down the second street, around the circuit of the neighbourhood. As they passed the gates of the development, though, Luhan put the indicator on.

“What are you doing?” Minseok called. “I said around the block!”

“I’m finding a better block!”

“Luhan-”

But they were already out on the main road and accelerating to keep pace with the rest of the traffic. Luhan moved over into the fast lane and took off, carefully toeing the speed limit in case of hidden cops. Up ahead he saw a sign indicating the major intersection, and after it an onramp. Behind him, Minseok gave a delighted laugh, his hands gripping the front of Luhan’s jacket.

“Highway?” Luhan yelled over the roar of the engine and the wind in their faces.

“What?”

“I said, highway!”

Minseok seemed to hesitate, then yelled back.

“Up to you!”

“Yes, then.”

Luhan took the onramp. Behind him he could hear a quiet litany of “oh my god oh my god oh my god”, and he squeezed Minseok’s arms with his elbows.

“Here we go!”

They merged into the traffic, and when a pocket of empty space opened up Luhan gunned it. Minseok whooped in his ear, his laughter spurring Luhan on.

Roaring down the highway with the wind whipping up under his helmet and Minseok’s arms around his waist, Luhan felt like he was flying. This was the feeling of landing that 900, only more, better. This was the sweetest air he’d ever caught.

Luhan took the first downtown exit and headed west along familiar streets.

“Don’t you dare go to the rink,” Minseok yelled in his ear. “Yixing’ll have a heart attack!”

“Don’t worry,” Luhan yelled back. “I’m just turning around.”

Two minutes later they were back on the highway, heading out of town again. Minseok was quiet now, the laughter and cheering gone, but his hands had not relaxed around Luhan’s waist. When Luhan ducked his head to look in the mirror, Minseok’s grin was a thousand miles wide. Luhan squeezed him with his elbows again, and Minseok squeezed back.

By the time they arrived back at Minseok’s house, Luhan was only too happy to get off. The exhilaration of the ride together with the powerful rumbling of the bike had left his arms shaking, and as he put the kickstand down and pulled his helmet off he found he was giggling under his breath.

“Oh my god, help me here.” Behind him he heard the clunk of Minseok’s helmet hitting the floor. “My legs are jelly.”

“Both of them?” Luhan grinned, unbuttoning his jacket.

“Oh, fuck you.”

Minseok was laughing as Luhan turned to help him off the bike. With an arm around Minseok’s waist and one of Minseok’s around his shoulders, Luhan pulled him off the bike, steadying him with his other hand as he staggered and hopped a few steps.

“Ha. Fuck. God, it’s been too long.” Minseok was breathless, still clutching Luhan’s neck to stay upright as he tried to get his balance back.

“I can imagine.” Luhan grabbed Minseok’s other arm to keep him from falling over.

Minseok looked up at Luhan then, grinning madly, and his entire face was so lit up with joy that Luhan couldn’t help but grin back.

Then Minseok lifted his arm from Luhan’s grasp, wrapped it around his neck, and kissed him.

For a moment Luhan was too stunned to react. Then his lips seemed to melt of their own accord into Minseok’s, his eyes fluttering closed as he swayed forward. Dimly it registered in the back of his mind that he would have expected it to be weird, kissing someone with a lip piercing. And yet he couldn't even feel it - couldn't feel anything other than Minseok’s lips, his arms around Luhan's neck, one hand creeping up into his hair.

They broke apart. Luhan opened his eyes and saw Minseok’s lips parted, jaw slack, his eyes dark and fixed on Luhan’s mouth. Luhan’s stomach gave a clench of excitement, and when Minseok breathed a quiet “yeah,” Luhan echoed him and leaned in to meet him in the middle.

This time Minseok’s hands were more insistent at the back of Luhan’s head. He held him close, and when he tilted his head for better access Luhan opened his mouth to let Minseok take what he wanted. His hand between Minseok’s shoulders began to drift, pressing at the small of his back before moving down over the back of his jeans and along his leg. It was only when it moved easily under his touch, coming up to press against his hip, that Luhan realised which thigh was in his hand.

He cupped his hand under Shorty and pulled Minseok closer. Minseok made a low noise at the back of his throat and pressed into him, and when Luhan took the tentative weight on Shorty with a squeeze of his fingers Minseok wrapped his arms more firmly around his neck and let Luhan hoist him up to hook his leg around Luhan’s hip.

“Mm-” Luhan broke away from Minseok’s mouth and took a step towards the inner door. “Where?”

“Upstairs,” Minseok muttered. He shivered as Luhan kissed the bolt of his jaw, his fingers digging into Luhan’s shoulders, and added, “now.”

“Yeah.” Luhan carried him out of the garage and into the hallway, then began up the stairs. Minseok was unexpectedly light in his arms, more an obstacle to vision than movement, and when Luhan paused on the halfway landing it was only so he could press Minseok against the wall and kiss him breathless.

“Turn left,” Minseok said when they reached the top landing. “At the end of the hall, on the right.”

This was the master bedroom, by the looks of it. The bed was huge, with immaculate white linen - a surprising aesthetic next to Minseok’s personality, Luhan thought, as he set him down on the end of the bed and pushed him back. He pulled off Minseok’s sneaker, then turned and sat down in front of him to unlace his own boots.

Minseok sat up and shuffled forward, his foot appearing next to Luhan as his hands came up to slide over his shoulders. As Luhan set the first boot down Minseok peeled his leather jacket off of him and dropped it on the floor, and when Luhan’s hands returned to his second shoe Minseok’s lips were on his neck.

Luhan yanked the shoe off and turned in Minseok’s arms to kiss him. Minseok met him with an open mouth, his hands sliding up into Luhan’s hair to drag him closer until Luhan was practically kneeling in Minseok’s lap. He tugged on the zipper of Minseok’s jacket and pushed it back off his shoulders, pulling the straps of his tank top aside so he could get his hands on Minseok’s skin.

Minseok’s breath shook in his mouth, and he pulled away from Luhan to shed the jacket. Luhan’s jaw dropped as Minseok peeled off his tank top to reveal not just tattooed shoulders but a full mosaic across his chest and stomach.

“Fuck,” he whispered, reaching out to run his fingers across the piece on the left side of Minseok’s chest. A cat curled down from his shoulder, its watercolour fur spilling out across the lines and spiralling around his nipple. As Luhan’s fingers traced over the edge of the colour, Minseok shivered.

“You like him?” he murmured, ducking his chin to look down at the cat. “That’s Myeonggi.”

“You name your tattoos?” Luhan said.

Minseok shook his head. “Just him. He’s special.”

Luhan hummed and bent to press a kiss to the little M on Myeonggi’s forehead. Minseok made a soft noise, his hand coming up to cup the back of Luhan’s head, so Luhan kissed him again, lower, and then once more just at the edge of his nipple.

“Stop teasing me, man,” Minseok muttered.

Luhan moved that last inch south and sucked Minseok’s nipple into his mouth.

“Ohh- shit.” Minseok’s fingers clenched in Luhan’s hair, scraping across his scalp as Luhan’s tongue flicked over his nipple. “Fuck- fuck, dude, what are you-”

Luhan sat back on his heels. Minseok was already panting, eyes wide and dark. The sight made Luhan want to press forward again, to pin Minseok down and wring more of those moans out of him; instead, he reached out and took Minseok by the shoulders, pulled him forward until he could tilt his head and brush their noses together. There he held him, neither moving to kiss him nor pulling away.

“I knew it,” Minseok whispered, eyes open and staring into Luhan’s. “I fucking knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“The minute you walked through my door,” Minseok said, “I knew we were going to end up like this.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Luhan murmured. He shifted his hand from Minseok’s shoulder, brought it up to brush his thumb across Minseok’s cheekbone.

“No,” Minseok said. “No, I’m just impressed it took this long.”

They moved at the same time, Minseok tilting his head at the same moment that Luhan’s hand cupped around his cheek and pulled him forward. This time the kiss was less frantic, a quieter sort of urgency between their lips as Minseok pulled Luhan into his lap.

“Mm-” Minseok broke away and ran his hands down Luhan’s sides. “Oh, I’m getting impatient.” His fingers slid up under the hem of Luhan’s T-shirt. “I need you all over me like, right now.”

Luhan lifted his arms and let Minseok pull his shirt off over his head. As it fell to the bed beside them he wrapped his hands around the back of Minseok’s neck and kissed him again, letting his hips begin to roll in Minseok’s lap. One hand ran across Minseok’s shoulder and down the front of his chest, eager to touch every available inch of skin.

Minseok gasped, and Luhan stopped. Leaning back, he looked down at Minseok’s chest.

Under his thumb, camouflaged among the ink surrounding it, was a small silver bar through Minseok’s right nipple.

“Holy shit.” Luhan brushed his thumb over the bar again, and Minseok moaned. His head tilted back, eyes sliding closed, chest pushing into Luhan’s touch.

“Mm- yeah, fuck-” It seemed to take Minseok a great effort to lift his head and meet Luhan’s kiss. As Luhan pinched at his nipple, tweaking the bar sideways, Minseok groaned and rolled his hips up against him. “Oh my god, Luhan. Yeah, like that-” Luhan twisted the bar and Minseok cried out, panting into Luhan’s mouth as his whole body shuddered.

Luhan drank it in, revelled in the sight of Minseok, directive and dominant and absolutely unflappable, turning to a whining, pleading mess under his hands. His eyes were squeezed shut, hands clutching at Luhan’s shoulders, hips jerking up in desperate search of friction.

“Oh god. Let me at you, fuck-” Minseok dropped his hands to the button of Luhan’s jeans. As it came open he pushed Luhan backwards off the bed so he could lean forward and yank his jeans down to his knees.

Luhan pushed them the rest of the way, kicking them off and crawling back onto the bed to meet Minseok’s eager hands.

“Fuck, have you got a big cock?” Minseok grabbed Luhan by the thighs, hands running up over the front of his hips and throwing the outline of his erection into relief against the fabric. “Oh my god, you fucking have.” His thumbs skirted the very edge of Luhan’s cock, his tongue almost hanging out of his mouth in a lewd sort of anticipation. With another groan, he sat back and began unbuckling his own belt.

Luhan hooked his fingers into the waistband of Minseok’s jeans and pulled them down over his ass, watched Minseok’s head fall to the side, eyes closed and mouth open, as Luhan’s fingers traced along the length of his thighs. Then he stopped.

It wasn’t like he’d forgotten about it. But there was still something jarring about the way Minseok’s jeans were suddenly loose in his hands, sliding easily off the end of his thigh.

Luhan wasn’t quite sure what he had expected it to look like. He remembered Minseok had mentioned having had tattoos, and somehow he had imagined they would be either entirely there or entirely gone. He hadn’t pictured these fragmented halves. Parts of the pictures were twisted and distorted at the bottom, and the very end was streaked with scars, the surrounding ink cracked and laced through with white and pink. A lone hand rose up out of the scarring, next to the top of what Luhan thought might be the letter A.

Minseok let him stare for a moment, then lifted Shorty off the bed and gave a little wave.

“Hello!” he sang, a high-pitched coo. “I’m Shorty! I didn’t much like life as a leg, so I decided to try being a Hobbit!”

Luhan gave an involuntary laugh and ducked his head. When he felt like he’d composed his face, he gently pulled Minseok’s jeans the rest of the way off his leg and threw them off the bed.

“How are you so weird but still so sexy, dude?” he said, running his hands back up Minseok’s thighs and over his hips.

“Hey.” Minseok let Luhan push him down onto his back. “The weird is part of the sexy.” He wrapped his arms around Luhan’s neck and kicked him in the hip with Shorty. “You gonna fuck me, or what?”

“Yeah.” Luhan paused to kiss Minseok, then nosed down to mouth at his throat. “Yeah, I am. You want that?”

“Mhm.” Minseok’s voice tightened as Luhan’s lips continued down over his collarbone to his chest. “Yep, that was- that was kind of the ide- oh god.”

Luhan brushed over Minseok’s pierced nipple with the lightest touch of his lips. The shake of Minseok’s breath was encouragement enough for him to lick it into his mouth, rattling the little bar between his teeth until Minseok moaned and his fingers dug into the back of Luhan’s head. Then Luhan rolled his hips down, grinding against Minseok to drag that moan into a cry.

“Fuck-” Minseok gasped. “Bro, don’t tease me like this, just - ah - just get your fucking cock in me, please.”

Luhan sat back on his heels and grabbed Minseok by the hips. Minseok pushed himself up onto his elbows and watched Luhan’s hands slide over the front of his boxer briefs, thumbs pressing into the soft space just at the crease of his thigh. When Minseok groaned and moved as if to lift a hand, Luhan slid his fingers under the fabric and peeled Minseok’s underwear off him in one move. He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to Minseok’s hip, tracing his nose back and forth against the sensitive skin, but Minseok pushed him away.

“Luhan- stop playing around, man.” He sat up and grabbed Luhan’s face to look him in the eyes. “I don’t think you understand how much I fucking need your cock. Like I appreciate the softness and all, but you need to either get in my ass or get out of my house.”

Luhan almost choked on a laugh. “I think I’ll take door number one.”

“Good boy.” Minseok shuffled backwards up the bed until he could lean over and pull open the top drawer of the bedside table. He rooted around inside for a moment, then closed it and opened the next drawer down. “Yeeeeah, jackpot.” He tossed a bottle of lubricant onto the bed, closely followed by a box of condoms.

Luhan picked up the bottle of lubricant and, after a moment of struggling, flipped the cap open. He was just about to upend the bottle over his fingers when Minseok made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat.

“What is it?”

“Oh no.” Minseok had a strip of condoms in his hand and was flipping it over in his hands. “No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. God dammit!” He threw the box across the room. “They’re expired. Fuck! Fuck!” He rolled over and buried his face in a pillow.

Minseok’s muffled scream lasted for about five seconds, during which Luhan slipped quietly off the bed and bent to pick up his jeans.

“Hey.” When Minseok didn’t lift his head, Luhan tapped him on the foot. Minseok pushed himself off the pillow and turned to look over his shoulder.

“What?” He squinted at the condom in Luhan’s hand.

Luhan shrugged. “I always keep a couple in my wallet.”

Minseok blinked at him disbelievingly for a second. Then his eyes seemed to roll back in relief.

“You are the single best thing- I swear to god. You just saved my life.” He rolled onto his back and held out his hands towards Luhan. “Get over here, you incredible man.”

Luhan crawled up over Minseok’s body to accept an enthusiastic kiss. When Minseok disengaged, Luhan slid a hand under his shoulder and nudged him over onto his stomach again.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t had one?” he asked, as he ran his hands down Minseok’s back and over his ass.

“Cried, probably,” Minseok said. “Kicked you out and spent the rest of the day sulking. Or just settled for mildly unsatisfying blowjobs.”

Luhan raised an eyebrow and picked up the bottle of lube again. “Should I be offended that you don’t think I can give a satisfying blowjob?”

“Nothing is as satisfying as a cock up the ass,” Minseok said. “Nothing.” He spread his legs at Luhan’s touch.

“I wouldn’t know,” Luhan remarked.

“Poor you.” Minseok made an impatient noise and pushed back against Luhan’s hand. “Come on, stop fucking around.”

Luhan promptly slid his middle finger into Minseok’s ass. The resultant moan went straight through his chest, curling his finger and sending Minseok’s hips bucking back against him.

“Oh- mm.” Minseok arched his back as Luhan twisted his finger from side to side. “Fuck- another, I wanna feel it.” He dropped his head into the pillow and groaned as Luhan slid a second finger in alongside the first. “Oh shit, yeah, that’s it.”

Luhan dropped forward to press his lips to the skin just above Minseok’s tailbone. Spreading his fingers apart, he soaked in the little moans that Minseok gave into the pillow, the tiny hitches of breath and quiet whispers of approval. He pushed in with a third finger, then withdrew and circled around with just one.

“Hurry up,” Minseok gasped.

Luhan just hummed into the small of Minseok’s back. Two fingers again, then three, twisting and curling and pushing deep until Minseok suddenly shuddered into the sheets.

“Oh fuck- that’s it there, Jesus-” he whimpered as Luhan pulled back, gasped at the stretch of a fourth finger, then bit down on the pillow and groaned as Luhan’s thumb brushed over the very edge of his hole. “For fuck’s sake, stop teasing and just fuck me already.”

Luhan pulled his fingers out and sat up. He pulled his own boxers off, then grabbed the condom from the bed next to Minseok and ripped the packet open.

“How do you want it?” he said as he rolled it on and slicked himself up with the excess lube from his fingers.

“I honestly don’t care,” Minseok muttered, “as long as it happens right now.”

Luhan smirked and grabbed Minseok’s arm to shove him over onto his back.

“You’re a face-to-face kind of guy, huh?” Minseok said, wrapping his arms around Luhan’s neck.

“I wanna see you,” Luhan murmured. He brushed a kiss over Minseok’s lips and reached down with one hand to line himself up.

“Don’t be so goddamn romantic, you make me sick.” Minseok’s grin slipped away and his eyes fell shut as Luhan pushed the tiniest fraction in, just enough to hear the faint squelch of lube, before pulling back. “Mm. Yeah, shit, do it.”

Luhan pushed forward again, further this time, and watched a little crease form between Minseok’s eyebrows as the head of his cock slid inside. He thrust gently forward, matching his depth to Minseok’s moans, until finally he was pressed fully against Minseok’s ass.

“Fuck,” Minseok whispered, eyes squeezed shut and fingers gripping Luhan’s shoulders. “Move, c’mon- ah-” he dug his nails in and threw his head back as Luhan drew back and thrust in again. “Fuck, oh fuck, yeah-”

Luhan scooped his arms under Minseok’s back and sat up, dragging Minseok into his lap. Minseok cried out, scratching into Luhan’s back and clamping down hard around his cock, and Luhan gave him a second to adjust before beginning to thrust up into him again.

“Oh, shhhit- Luhan- yeah, fuck me, oh god-” every word was punctuated with a moan, and Luhan could hear the incremental pitch of Minseok’s voice that meant he was hitting exactly the right spots.

“Yeah, right there.” Luhan wrapped his arms more firmly around Minseok and dragged him down to meet the next thrust. “Fuck, Minseok, you’re so hot- so tight-” Luhan broke off on a groan as Minseok clenched around him again. Shorty began smacking at his hip as if scrabbling for purchase, so Luhan cupped a hand underneath to give Minseok some leverage. In the next moment, Minseok was lifting up and slamming himself back down, clutching Luhan’s shoulders and gasping against his neck.

Luhan kept driving upwards, jolting Minseok almost out of his lap with every thrust. Minseok was just about whimpering now, each little moan stuttering out of his throat, and his fingers on Luhan’s back were digging in hard enough to hurt.

Luhan could feel the edge approaching, and he wanted Minseok there with him, so he leaned forward and set him back down on the bed. Minseok whined and reached down to grab Luhan by the ass, pulling him deeper until he was almost screaming at every grind of Luhan’s hips.

“Shit-” Luhan worked a hand in between them to take Minseok’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Minseok groaned and shook his head, though, smacking Luhan’s hand away from his cock and pulling it up to his chest. With a muttered curse of understanding, Luhan latched onto Minseok’s pierced nipple and twisted the bar between his fingers.

“Yeah, oh fu- fuck, Luhan-” Minseok was still holding Luhan’s hand on his chest when he came, gripping tight as his whole body shuddered. Luhan groaned and thrust in harder, chasing that feeling, and it didn’t take more than a few seconds before he was tipping over the edge, hips jolting into Minseok one last time.

When the roar quieted and a comfortable fuzz began to spread through his limbs, Luhan pushed himself up off of Minseok’s chest and pulled out. Then Minseok gave a desperate whimper, and Luhan looked up.

Minseok was still shaking, his cock pulsing weakly onto his stomach with each tremble. His eyes were squeezed shut, an ecstatic crease through his brow, his mouth open around a gasp. As Luhan watched, he made another soft little noise and clenched his hand against his chest.

“Hah. Man.” Luhan flopped down next to Minseok, one arm across his chest. “You okay?”

Minseok just moaned, so Luhan began to rub a soothing hand up and down his arm.

“Dick too bomb, huh?” He kissed the side of Minseok’s head. “Mmm. That’s alright. Take your time, babe.”

It took almost a whole minute before Minseok finally relaxed. When his hand fell to his side and the frown eased out of his face, Luhan gave his arm a gentle little squeeze.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmmmm.” Minseok let out a breath and opened his eyes to blink at Luhan. “Hoo. That was something.”

“You’re telling me.” Luhan propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over to kiss him. “Am I really that good?”

Minseok just smiled, soft and lazy. “You’re pretty good.”

Luhan hummed, unable to keep a grin off his face, and hugged himself to Minseok’s side. They didn’t speak for a moment, during which time Minseok’s hand came up and began gently petting Luhan’s hair.

“You wanna hear something weird?” Minseok murmured, just as Luhan’s mind had begun to wander.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Just now, when I came…” Minseok paused, and then Luhan thought he could hear a smile in his voice. “I could feel it in all ten of my toes.”

It took Luhan a moment to process that. When it finally clicked what Minseok meant, he sat bolt upright and looked down at him in shock.

“Woah, really?”

Minseok nodded, eyes closed, a faintly satisfied smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Has that happened before?”

“Nah.” Minseok shook his head. “It’s never as intense when I’m by myself.”

“But when you’re with someone else?” Luhan prodded.

Minseok cracked one eye open to look up at him. “Well, the last time I was with someone else I had ten toes to feel it in.”

Luhan just blinked at him for a second.

Then, “... Oh.”

“Don’t give me that look,” Minseok said, opening both eyes to better scrutinise Luhan’s face. “Is that pity? Get the fuck outta here with that shit. I just had the longest orgasm of my life, stop killing my vibe.”

Luhan looked away and took a moment to mentally kick himself for not realising that Minseok probably hadn’t had much opportunity to get laid in the past few years.

“Oi,” Minseok poked him in the ribs. “Stop it.” He grabbed Luhan by the arm and pulled him back down onto the bed.

“Okay, sorry.” Luhan tried to school his face back into something neutral as he slid an arm over Minseok’s waist again.

“It’s not that no-one wants to fuck the disabled guy,” Minseok said, resuming his stroking of Luhan’s head. “Believe me, I know I’m hot. I could wheel my ass into any bar in town and leave with at least three cocks up it. Guaranteed. It’s just that my social circle is very carefully curated, and it just so happens that none of those people are people I want to fuck.” He turned to press his lips into Luhan’s hair. “You’re kind of the only person who’s actually entered my life since I stopped skating.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Minseok rested his chin on Luhan’s head. “This might come as a surprise to you, but most people aren’t in the habit of finding my house and ringing my doorbell to ask for skating tips.”

Luhan cringed into Minseok’s chest, but Minseok just laughed.

“Is it bad that I’m impressed?” he chuckled, ruffling Luhan’s hair. “You’re my favourite stalker.”

“I’m sorry, okay,” Luhan said. “I thought you were just like, taking a break from competitions. I didn’t realise you were-”

“Categorically unable to skate?” Luhan could feel Minseok’s grin against his head. “Well, I didn’t exactly publicise that bit. It’s okay. Your tenaciousness was kind of adorable.”

Luhan groaned and pressed his blush against Minseok’s skin. Minseok laughed again and patted Luhan’s shoulder.

“Come on. Time to get up. Can you give me a lift back to my chair?”

They cleaned up and got dressed, and Luhan carried Minseok back down to the garage.

“Awesome,” Minseok said, as he released his brakes and pivoted himself towards the door. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” Luhan admitted.

“Good, cause I was just about to make lunch before you showed up and seduced me.”

“I didn’t se-!”

“I’m kidding,” Minseok interrupted. “How are you so easy to wind up, dude?”

Luhan clamped his mouth shut and followed Minseok down the hallway.

“Mm, I don’t know about you but I need another cup of coffee!” Minseok parked himself in the middle of the kitchen and got up to hop over to the counter. “Either that or a nap. Maybe both. You want one?”

Luhan wasn’t quite sure whether Minseok was referring to the coffee or the nap, but he nodded anyway. Minseok turned and slid two mugs off the shelf, then set them down next to the coffee machine.

“If you open the fridge, you should see the makings of sandwiches. You wanna get started on those while I do this?”

Luhan nodded and crossed the room to pull the fridge open.

“Pass me the milk while you’re there,” Minseok added.

It was surprisingly easy, the way they moved around each other. Minseok tended to just stay in one place and reach for things or else shuffle sideways along the bench, but Luhan never seemed to be in his way, never bumped into him or pushed things out of reach. Minseok hummed as he steamed the milk, his fingers tapping against the side of the jug, and Luhan hid a smile behind him.

“There you go.” Minseok set the first cup down on the counter and glanced at Luhan’s sandwich preparations. “Lots of lettuce on mine please.”

Luhan grabbed a giant fistful of leaves and dropped them on the bread. “Is that enough?”

Minseok turned to look, then snorted.

“Yes,” he said, observing the lettuce tower with a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Yes, that’s perfect, thank you.”

“Cool.” Luhan squashed the lettuce down with another piece of bread and slid the plate across the counter. “There you go.”

“Good job.” Minseok gave a little chuckle as he placed the second cup of coffee on the counter and hopped around to the barstool. “I’m sorted for Vitamin K for the entire week.”

Luhan grinned into the first sip of his coffee. The grin turned into a pleased little hum - Minseok made the best coffee.

“Why weren’t you moaning like that for my ass?” Minseok said, and Luhan choked.

“Oh my god,” he spluttered, while Minseok laughed. “Dude!”

“Fuck, you’re so easy to tease.” Minseok reached out to pat him on the back. “I’m enjoying this.”

“You’re awful,” Luhan muttered.

Minseok just grinned at him around a mouthful of sandwich.

Once the coffee was finished and Minseok had slurped down the last shred of lettuce, Luhan followed him through to a living room hidden off the far side of the kitchen-dining room.

“How freaking big is your house, man?” Luhan asked as Minseok flicked the lights on and let his wheelchair bump down over the little ledge onto the carpet.

“Unnecessarily big,” Minseok admitted. “I bought this place when I was on top of the world and fucking loaded from winning every competition in existence. I used to throw mad parties in here. I pictured myself being one of those guys who would be relevant for generations, you know? Like even when I was in my fifties I’d still be the heart of the skating community, having all the grommets over to regale them with stories of my greatness.” He stopped by the French doors, looking out at the veranda and the huge yard beyond it. “What an ego, huh? I never even considered burning out or fading away. Turns out I didn’t do either - I just went out like a light.”

For a moment there was silence, while Minseok looked out the window and Luhan searched for words.

“You still could,” he said finally.

“Nah.” Minseok turned away from the window with a wry little smile. “Not anymore. I’m an urban legend now. Besides, I don’t want all their pity.”

“Why do you think they would pity you?”

“Everyone pities me.” Minseok parked his chair and slid out of it onto the couch. “At least at first. You did.” As Luhan’s heart gave a guilty pang, Minseok leaned over to grab his laptop from the end table and patted the cushion beside him. “C’mon, sit down. I’m going to teach you how to land that 900 mistiest.”

Luhan carefully folded himself into the space beside Minseok, who had the laptop balanced precariously on his one knee and was opening up YouTube. As the laptop wobbled under Minseok’s hands, Luhan gently slid one leg over to rest under it.

“Cheers,” Minseok muttered, letting it rest on their combined lap. He paused, his fingers wiggling above the keyboard, then typed in his own name and hit enter. “There we go. I’m pretty sure this one will have it.” He clicked on a video titled Kim Minseok Air Compilation and turned the laptop more towards Luhan.

The first clip was of a much younger-looking, less tattooed Minseok in a skate park. He grinned and flashed the camera a V as he passed by, then whizzed up a ramp and flew into the air in a perfect brainless flip.

“Nice!”

Luhan blinked. The voice was younger, higher, but he could have sworn it was Yixing behind the camera.

“I was nineteen there,” Minseok murmured. “I’d just won my second or third competition. Man, that was before we bought the warehouse. We were still practising outdoors.”

The second clip was from a competition. Shot from up in the stands, it showed several flips cut together in quick succession, the video jumping from one ramp to the next as Minseok executed spin after spin.

Some of the videos were of competitions, some were at outdoor parks. One or two showed Yixing’s warehouse rink. Luhan was so absorbed in seeing all the different versions of Minseok, with different hair colours and varying amounts of tattoos, that he totally forgot to observe his technique.

“Did you see the way I landed there?” Minseok said, as the video ended. At Luhan’s hesitant noise, he held up a finger and scrolled down the page. “Hang on, I know Yixing got a better angle at World Xtreme. It might be down here…” he stopped scrolling and scrutinised the suggested videos on the side of the page. “Hmm, I’m sure he uploaded it.”

Then he paused. Luhan looked, and saw what Minseok was seeing.

What REALLY Happened To Kim Minseok!!!

They both stared at the thumbnail for a second. Luhan didn’t dare to even glance sideways at Minseok.

“Hm.” Minseok’s hand hovered over the mouse. “What do you think?” Before Luhan could answer, he clicked on the video.

“Hello, friends and fans!” The vlogger’s face appeared big in the centre of the screen before he sat back in his chair. “I’ve got a great topic for you this week! It’s time to break away from the tips and tutorials to discuss a topic that I’ve been getting into some pretty heated debates over recently - Kim Minseok.”

Minseok snorted. “Do you not have anything more interesting to debate?”

“Yeah, Kim Minseok - remember him?” The vlogger pulled an exaggerated thinking face, and a picture of Minseok appeared in the corner of the video. “Yeah, that dude! The one with the tattoos and the green hair!” A second picture appeared beside the first. “Or the blue hair!” A third picture. “Or the red hair!” The pictures disappeared and the vlogger’s face filled the screen again. “If you were skating competitively a few years ago, you might have felt the frustration of going up against Minseok in competitions. Any trick you can do, he’s already done it better. Any competition you place second in, he’s already won three times. He was THE MOST INFURIATING MAN IN SKATING - and yet somehow you kind of wanted to screw him as well! Or was that just me? Maybe that was just me. Awkward.”

Minseok laughed and shook his head. “This guy has no chill.”

“And then suddenly one day - POOF! - he disappeared. No more competitions. No more practise videos. No more of the fabled three-day parties at his secluded mansion. Kim Minseok vanished without a trace, leaving only a trail of trophies and blue balls behind him. And since that day, the question everyone has been asking is: WHY? The answer is a lot simpler than you might think. So today, my friends, I will be discussing a few of the most popular theories and telling you why they’re all bullshit. And then I will be telling you - What Really Happened to Kim Minseok.”

Minseok waved his mouse over the video. “Oh dude, this thing’s like ten minutes long.”

“We don’t have to watch it,” Luhan said.

“Nah, nah,” Minseok shook his head. “I’m intrigued. I wanna know what people are saying.”

“Most popular theory: he’s dead.”

Minseok smirked and nudged Luhan in the ribs.

“Shut up,” Luhan muttered, cheeks heating.

“ENNHH! Wrong.” A giant red X flashed over a picture of a gravestone beside the vlogger’s face. “This is the one that a lot of people throw around, but it’s dead wrong - excuse the pun - and easily disproven. If Kim Minseok were dead, there would be some record of it! I did some quick Google-fu, and there’s no death record available for Kim Minseok. So unless he went by some other name or his death was somehow kept off the record, this theory is RIGHT OUT.”

The vlogger made an X with his arms as a jingle played in the background.

“Man, he’s got theme music and everything,” Minseok said. “He’s invested way too much into this.”

“Theory number two: he has retired from public life-”

“Correct,” Minseok muttered.

“- and is now living in a nudist colony.”

Minseok burst out laughing. “What?!” He hit the spacebar to pause the video while he laughed. “What the fuck? That’s fucking great. Why did I never think of that, I’ve always hated wearing clothes.”

Luhan privately thought that he rather hated Minseok wearing clothes too.

“Oh, fuck me sideways.” Minseok wiped at his eyes and unpaused the video, still chuckling to himself.

“The logic behind this is that nudist colonies tend to be very closed communities, and they don’t usually allow cameras. This would explain why no-one has seen him in public since East Xtreme the year before last.”

“Your logic is impeccable,” Minseok said, as the video cut to a clip of him flying through the air at East Xtreme. “It couldn’t possibly have been that three days after that competition I was a leg down and on life support.”

Luhan looked at Minseok out the corner of his eye, his heart squeezing tight as he recognised the video clip being played. This was the first East Xtreme he had attended, and the only time he’d ever seen Minseok skate. The realisation of how close that day had been to Minseok’s accident sent a wash of heat through his entire body. He suddenly wanted to hug Minseok close, to hold him to his chest and calm the sudden, retrospective fear that had taken up residence underneath his heart.

“The problem with this theory is that do you know how hard it is to keep a secret in this digital age?!” The vlogger leaned out of his seat to eyeball the camera. “Do you really think that Kim Minseok could have been living in a nudist camp for the past two years and NO-ONE SAID A WORD? Sure, a famous skater with orange hair and two full sleeve tattoos moves in down the road, but that’s totally normal, why would you mention to anybody that Kim Minseok is your next door neighbour?!” He sat back and seemed to take a calming breath. “So. This one is plausible, but ultimately not realistic. Secluded as nudist colonies are, I don’t think they’re quite secluded enough to hide a five-time world champion.”

“Six, actually,” Minseok smirked.

“The last theory that I’ve been hearing a lot lately is that Kim Minseok simply got tired of being Kim Minseok. It’s impossible to be that famous and not get some hate, plus he must have been so sick of getting approached by fans all the time.”

Minseok gave a derisive snort. “Because I’m that much of an asshole that I hate my own fans.”

“So what he did is - hear me out here - he briefly retired from public life, went away to a private clinic for a whole lot of plastic surgery, and came back three months later as a brand new skater called Mark Tuan.”

“Mark Tuan?” Minseok baulked. “Who the hell is Mark Tuan?”

“Current world champ,” Luhan said. “He’s won since the year after you left.”

Two pictures appeared side-by-side on the screen, Minseok and Mark staring into the camera as if for professional headshots.

“Here’s the problem with this, folks.”

“That we look absolutely nothing alike?”

“Tattoos. Now, obviously, if you were a world-famous celebrity in need of personal reinvention, you would want to get rid of all your identifying tattoos, right? But here’s the thing: Mark only has a couple of tattoos on one arm, and the other arm is completely bare. And I took the liberty of acquiring some pretty decent pictures of Mark’s arms, and let me tell you - there is not a single scar on that skin. Even the best laser removal will leave some sort of blemish, and Mark’s arms are as smooth as a baby’s. No needle has ever touched that skin.”

Minseok snorted and shook his head. “His thought process is amazing. Don’t bother looking up our fucking skating history or anything, or the fact that we’re clearly from two different countries - nah, just look at our biceps.”

“Now, I know what you’re thinking: if Kim Minseok isn’t dead, or a nudist, or disguised as Mark Tuan, then what happened to him? Fear not, friends and fans! I have the answer.”

“Oh, I am so ready to hear this,” Minseok said, leaning forward.

“The truth is this: for the past two years, Kim Minseok… has been… in rehab.”

“In rehab?!” Minseok squawked. “Excuse me?”

“Think about it, my friends! Aside from skating, what is Kim Minseok most famous for? That’s right - his parties. Parties, my friends. Three-day benders at his private mansion, all drinks provided, and god knows what other substances available to the discerning guest. It’s no wonder that after half a decade of non-stop bingeing he finally hit the end. With no warning and not a word to anyone, he checked into a rehab clinic to get his life sorted. And due to several severe relapses, that’s where he’s been ever since.”

“This guy’s brain is a bag of cats,” Minseok said. “Seriously, dude, what the fuck?”

“Of course, without an official statement from Kim Minseok or his family, it’s difficult to confirm this theory. Rehab admissions are very private, and the records aren’t publicly available. However, our best guess is that he’s staying at this secluded clinic in the countryside. Many celebrities have checked in here for treatment over the years, so no doubt when Kim Minseok finally emerges he will have made a fair few important new friends. The only question then is: will he return to skating? Or will he try to preserve his new-found sobriety by staying as far away from the competitions as possible? We’ll have to wait to answer that question.” The vlogger sat back in his chair, and a cheerful tune began to play over his voice. “Well, friends and fans, I hope that’s helped put your minds at rest about the mysterious disappearance of Kim Minseok. I’ll see you next week with a new video about the history of anti-rockers. Bye for now!” He saluted the camera, and the screen cut to a patchwork of tiles advertising his other videos.

“Hm.” Minseok stopped the video and scrolled down to look at the vlogger’s profile. “Well, Suho91, that’s a really interesting theory you’ve got there. You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into the minutiae of someone else’s life. All I can say is: get a job, dude.” He flipped the laptop shut and set it down on the end table, then leaned back and began rubbing Shorty. “This is why I don’t Google myself.”

Luhan gave him a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s just raining, that’s all.”

Luhan glanced out the window and saw that the sunny day had indeed turned overcast, and tiny droplets of rain were beginning to splatter against the glass.

“Shorty doesn’t like the rain,” Minseok explained, then sighed. “I’m gonna do some exercises.”

He slid himself from the couch into his wheelchair and turned towards the door. Luhan scrambled up off the couch after him.

“Should I go?”

Minseok shrugged. “Only if you want to. I’m not doing anything the rest of the day.” He wheeled himself to the doorway and struggled for a moment before managing to shove his chair up over the tiny ledge onto the tiles.

Luhan followed him into the dining room and perched on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter while Minseok parked his chair and hopped over to his gym frame.

“So I dunno if you got any sense of how to do those flips,” Minseok said. “We really only watched the one video, and I think there was only one mistiest in there, so that probably wasn’t very helpful. I can find some better clips for you if you want.”

Luhan shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I think I just need to work out where it is that I’m tripping up. Is it my posture on the landing?”

“Yeah, I think it might just be that you’re not quite getting around?” Minseok picked up the ball from its basket and sandwiched it between his hip and the wall. “That’s why you’re falling, I think, cause you’re trying to go one direction while you’re still turning in another. Just work on getting all the way around before you touch down and you should be fine.”

They talked about torque and technique, the elusive 1620, and the relative merits of tri-rockers versus freestyle skates. The whole time, Minseok was squatting and stretching, pulling back on an elastic band around Shorty and lifting his body against the frame. Finally he stopped and threw the band back into the basket with a grunt of frustration.

“God dammit.” He glowered down at Shorty. “Calm your shit, dude.”

Luhan made a sympathetic face. “It hurts?”

“Every time a storm rolls in,” Minseok said. “I have the worst cramp in my foot right now.” He dropped into his wheelchair and headed around the counter to the kitchen.

“In your foot?”

“Yep.” Minseok pulled open a drawer and rummaged around among the pill bottles there. “Phantom limb is a bitch.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah, woah.” Minseok popped a pill and cupped a handful of water from the tap to swallow it, then wiped his mouth before continuing. “The novelty wears off real fuckin’ quick.” He turned to Luhan and gave him a considering look.

“What?” Luhan felt evaluated, and not in the same way as when Minseok watched him skate.

“Do you want to help me, dude?”

“Yes.” The word was out of his mouth too quickly, too earnestly, and Luhan bit his lip while Minseok tilted his head to the side.

“Okay. C’mon.” Minseok wheeled himself back into the living room, bumping down onto the carpet and parking next to the couch.

Luhan sidled in after him and watched while Minseok opened up his laptop on the end table.

“Lie down,” Minseok instructed.

“Uh. Okay.” Luhan sat on the couch, and at a pointed look from Minseok lay down on his back.

Music began to play from the laptop. Minseok lowered the volume, then slid out of his chair and climbed on top of Luhan.

“Um-”

“Shh.” Minseok carefully maneuvered himself in between Luhan’s legs, then lay down. Pillowing his head on Luhan’s chest, he gave a comfortable sigh.

“What are we doing?” Luhan whispered.

“We’re cuddling. Stroke my hair or something.”

“Oh. Right.” Luhan lifted a hand to Minseok’s head and began combing his fingers through his hair. “How does this help your leg?”

“Things that help phantom pain,” Minseok mumbled, “at least in my experience: nice music, being snuggled, and if all else fails, a damn good nap.” He rubbed his cheek against Luhan’s shirt to flatten out a wrinkle, then relaxed against him with a hum. “I’m assuming given that you’ve already slept with me you won’t mind actually sleeping with me.”

“Of course not,” Luhan murmured. He wrapped his unoccupied arm around Minseok’s waist and gave him a little squeeze, and Minseok responded with the edge of a smile against his shirt.

Luhan held Minseok until his breathing turned slow and even, Shorty’s intermittent twitches growing fewer and farther between and finally stopping altogether. He kept stroking his hair, hand moving in gentle waves, long after Minseok’s laptop had run out of battery and powered down. Luhan lay there in the stillness and stared out at the torrential rain beyond the window until dusk began to fall and he slipped into a doze.

-

“Hey.”

Luhan snorted awake.

“Whu-”

“Stop slobbering on my couch and get up.”

Luhan smacked a clumsy hand against his face and came away covered in drool.

“Oh. Shit.” He rolled over to look up at Minseok, who was smirking down at him from his wheelchair.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, poking Luhan in the shoulder again.

“It’s dinner time?” Luhan sat up and rubbed the grooves the seam of the cushion had pressed into his cheek.

“Yeah, dude.” Minseok, already halfway to the door, glanced back over his shoulder. “You were out for like three hours.”

Luhan stumbled upright and drifted into the kitchen behind Minseok. “Mm. That smells really good.”

“Ya boi can cook,” Minseok quipped, pushing a steaming plate along the counter in Luhan’s direction. Luhan gave a grunt of thanks and dug in, not even registering until the second or third mouthful that it was pasta he was eating.

“It’s good,” he mumbled.

“Clearly.” The corner of a grin twitched around Minseok’s eyes as he reached for the salt.

Luhan gave an embarrassed grimace and straightened up, making an attempt to chew more slowly.

“So, how’s your leg?”

“Better,” Minseok said. “Sleep helps. Cooking, too.”

Luhan shot him a quizzical look. “How does cooking help?”

“It’s something I enjoy doing,” Minseok said simply.

“Oh.”

They fell into comfortable silence, side by side at the counter. Minseok swivelled his barstool back and forth while he ate, a gentle rhythm driven by some internal metronome. As they finished eating he reached over and slid Luhan’s plate towards him with one finger, then stacked it on top of his own.

“I’m just gonna wash the dishes,” he said.

Luhan stood up as Minseok hopped around the counter to the sink. “Do you want me to help? Dry, or something?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Minseok turned the tap on and began rinsing the plates. “I let them drip dry. You just sit there and look pretty.”

Luhan leaned against the counter and tucked his hands under his armpits to try and dispel the itch of doing nothing while Minseok worked.

“You can grab a soda or something from the fridge, if you want,” Minseok suggested, glancing over his shoulder as he scrubbed at a saucepan.

Luhan crossed to the fridge and pulled the door open.

“Down the bottom,” Minseok said.

Luhan ducked down and saw that the bottom shelf was lined with cans and cans of soda, dozens of cans from as many different brands.

“Dude, are you running a sneaky convenience store out of your garage or something?”

Minseok laughed. “I just really like soda. Sweet, sweet calories, man.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m probably the most unhealthy fitness freak in the world.”

“Just drink diet,” Luhan suggested.

“Nah.” Minseok shook his head. “I’m allergic to aspartame.”

“Oh, right.” Luhan chose a soda and straightened up. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. Of all the available options from my host of medical issues, that’s the one that annoys me.”

Luhan pulled a sympathetic face and returned to lean against the counter as he cracked the can open.

Minseok hummed to himself while he washed the plates, and Luhan watched him quietly. A purple tendril hung down between Minseok’s eyebrows, bouncing almost to his nose with the movement of his scrubbing. Luhan recognised the familiar focus that Minseok applied to important things - exercises, polishing his bike, and, it seemed, housework.

“Okay.” Minseok pulled the plug from the sink and rinsed the suds off his hands. “Those can dry there, and I’ll put them away in the morning.” He turned to Luhan. “How are you doing?”

Luhan shrugged. “Good.”

“Do you want to go to the rink?”

Luhan thought about going to Yixing’s warehouse and skating. He thought about practising, landing a perfect flip, Minseok’s approving yell from the other side of the rink.

Then, unbidden, he thought about Minseok naked in his arms, sweating and shaking and clawing at Luhan’s back as he came in violent spurts across his chest.

Luhan shook his head.

“No,” Minseok said. “No, me neither.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Minseok moved. He didn’t hop or shuffle towards Luhan, just shifted his weight slightly to push himself away from the sink. Luhan set his half-empty soda down on the counter and took the two steps to cross the distance between them.

The way Minseok’s arms wrapped around Luhan’s waist felt as natural as breathing, the way he rose onto his toes and tilted his head as if he already knew the perfect angle at which to kiss him. Luhan slid a hand into Minseok’s hair and ate up the approving little noise he made.

“Hey,” Minseok whispered into Luhan’s lips. “You said something about keeping a couple of condoms in your wallet, right?”

“Yeah.” Luhan paused to kiss Minseok again. “I’ve got one more.”

“Awesome.” Minseok said nothing further, just dove into Luhan’s mouth again. One hand slid from Luhan’s waist down over his ass, then up under the hem of his shirt, and then deftly down the back of his jeans.

“Mm-” Luhan sucked a smile into Minseok’s bottom lip and pushed the strap of his tank top aside to trace a hand over his shoulder. “Are you going to be bossy and impatient again this time?”

Minseok laughed, pulling his lip out from between Luhan’s teeth. “You cannot blame me for being impatient in breaking a three-year drought. I reserve the right to be bossy.”

Luhan gave a hum of amusement and broke away from Minseok’s mouth to kiss the skin just at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Minseok sighed and tilted his head to give Luhan better access, his hand squeezing Luhan’s ass at the first faint graze of teeth.

“Better take my time while I can, then,” Luhan murmured. “Before you decide you need dick urgently.”

“I always need dick urgently,” Minseok quipped, but there was a breath through his voice that belied his pretense at composure.

“Really.” Luhan traced his lips up the length of Minseok’s neck, and at the hitch of his breath slid a thumb under the strap of Minseok’s tank top to brush over his pierced nipple.

“Jesus Christ.” Minseok gripped Luhan’s back as a shiver rolled through him. “Let’s take it slow, he says. I’m gonna push all your fucking buttons, he says.” He bit back a whine and rolled his chest through Luhan’s touch. “Not fair, man.”

“I never said this was going to be fair,” Luhan murmured, drunk on the hammering of Minseok’s pulse against his lips.

“Oh shit. Are you trying to dominate me, dude? Is that what’s happening here?” Minseok dragged in a breath and let it tremble out of his lips behind Luhan’s ear. “Cause I could be down for that.”

Holy fuck. Luhan’s stomach fell through the floor and white-hot arousal flooded in to take its place. What the fuck kind of unreal magic was this? He wasn’t a dominant kind of guy, he didn’t do this. He was used to being talked at, being pushed down and ridden by boys just like Minseok - but not like Minseok, because Minseok was turning out to be an altogether different kind of man. Minseok told Luhan when he was getting to him, not just screaming in pleasure but actually giving Luhan feedback, encouragement, praise -

“Come on, Luhan,” Minseok said. “Tell me what to do.”

Luhan took an unsteady breath and gave Minseok’s throat another kiss for courage.

“Your hands are doing a whole lot of nothing right now,” he said, because he didn’t quite have the guts to say I want you to touch me.

Minseok seemed to get the message. Within a second his fingers were working at the zipper of Luhan’s jeans, deft and eager and so overwhelmingly welcome that Luhan almost wanted just this, this feeling, forever. But then his fly was pulling open, and Minseok was undoing the button on his boxers.

“Oh fuck, you’re so hard.” Minseok groaned into Luhan’s shoulder, open-mouthed and panting as his hand began working slowly over Luhan’s cock. “Fuck - I wanna suck your cock, I wanna suck it so bad-”

Luhan whined at the pulse of heat that sent up his spine. The sudden image of Minseok on his knees - knee - how would he balance? - mental image gone. Dammit.

But Minseok was still talking. “Yeah, suck you real good, make you come in my mouth, you would not believe how much cock this little mouth can take-”

Luhan thrust up into Minseok’s hand, thumb still flicking over his nipple, teeth bared against his throat. Minseok’s words got lost somewhere in a moan and he wobbled slightly in Luhan’s arms. Luhan was reminded that Minseok was trying to balance on one shaking leg, so he wrapped his arms around Minseok’s waist, spun him around, and pushed him against the counter.

“Mmm, pushy pushy.” Minseok seemed delighted by this, leaning back onto the counter and looking up at Luhan through his lashes. As Luhan ran his hands over Minseok’s hips, Minseok kicked Shorty at him, flicking Luhan with the empty leg of his pants. “Well, don’t stop now.”

Sliding his fingers under the waistband of Minseok’s jeans, Luhan decided what he wanted. The only question was whether Minseok would let him have it.

The tilt of Minseok’s head as Luhan popped the button of his pants open suggested that Luhan was welcome to take anything he desired.

“What do you want?” Minseok asked, as Luhan pulled Minseok’s jeans down past the end of Shorty and let them fall to the floor around his foot. “You gonna fuck me against the counter?”

“Not quite.” Luhan grabbed Minseok by the shoulders and turned him to face the counter, then crouched down, wrapped an arm around his hips, and hoisted him up. Minseok gave a squeal of surprise as his stomach hit the cold vinyl.

“What are you doing?” He looked back over his shoulder at Luhan.

Luhan didn’t answer, just ran a hand over Minseok’s ass, palming it through his boxer briefs.

“You just like having me up here, huh?” Minseok grinned at him, delightedly cheeky. In answer, Luhan gave one buttcheek a gentle slap.

“You still have a skater ass,” he observed, squeezing it.

“I will always have a skater ass,” Minseok preened. “You spend a decade of your life on a half-pipe, that shit sticks around. Glutes of steel, my dude.”

As if to prove it, he clenched his buttcheeks. The instant definition against his underwear was startling, and Luhan suddenly wasn’t sure which was harder - Minseok’s ass, or his own dick. Acting on that thought, he hooked his fingers into the top of Minseok’s briefs and pulled them down.

“Ooh, now we’re getting somewhere.”

Instead of answering, Luhan ran his hands up Minseok’s sides, down his back, then grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them apart. Minseok made a small noise, whether of satisfaction or anticipation Luhan couldn’t tell.

He took a moment to just look: Minseok, spread out on the counter before him, his hole clenching at the air as Luhan’s thumb traced along the length of his crack. Luhan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the small of Minseok’s back.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he murmured.

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.” Minseok pushed back into Luhan’s touch. “All yours, dude. Right here for the taking.”

Luhan grinned against Minseok’s skin. The grin turned into a kiss, then another just at Minseok’s tailbone, and then, after a moment of hesitation, a slow, deliberate lick across Minseok’s asshole.

“Oh my god.” Minseok’s hips jolted, and Luhan felt him shiver under his hands. “Oh Jesus. Okay. This is happening.”

Luhan hummed and licked in again, tracing lazy patterns over Minseok’s hole. When Minseok whimpered, he pushed deeper, fucked in with his tongue until Minseok began to writhe underneath him.

“Luhan - holy fuck, dude, you- ohmyfuckinggod.”

Minseok shuddered and his voice broke up an octave; he seemed to be struggling for control. Luhan pulled back.

“Already?”

“I haven’t had sex in three years, man, I’ve got a fucking hair trigger right now.” Minseok hooked his foot backwards around Luhan’s knee and pulled him forward. “Are you gonna fuck me? Cause you’ve got a very limited window of opportunity before I come all over literally everything.”

Luhan laughed and pressed another kiss to Minseok’s buttcheek, then nudged at his hip until he rolled over and sat up on the counter. Luhan slotted himself in between Minseok’s legs and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss.

“Mmm,” Minseok muttered against Luhan’s lips. “Tastes like ass.”

In response, Luhan licked from Minseok’s chin up to his nose. Minseok yelped and pushed him away to wipe a hand across his face, which he then smeared down Luhan’s cheek.

“Payback’s a bitch,” Minseok grinned.

“Right.” Luhan grabbed Minseok’s arm and hauled him over his shoulder. “To the bedroom with you.”

“Oh nooo,” Minseok gave a couple of half-hearted slaps to Luhan’s back. “Not the bedroom. Have mercy.”

Luhan hefted him into a better position and headed for the stairs. Once again he found himself surprised by Minseok’s lightness - despite the token protest he was putting up, he was barely an armful to carry.

“Dude, how much do you even weigh?”

Minseok snorted. “About twenty-five pounds less than I should.”

Luhan momentarily baulked at that - how could Minseok be so underweight and still look so muscular? - until a sardonic chuckle into his back told him that twenty-five pounds was probably the approximate weight of a human leg.

“Fucker,” he muttered, and pinched Minseok’s ass.

“No, that’s you,” Minseok gave a hiccupping laugh as Luhan jolted him up the stairs. “In about five minutes.”

“Yeah, if you’re lucky.”

Minseok kicked him in the chest with Shorty, so Luhan caught him and ducked his head to kiss the tattooed hand just at the edge of the scarring. There was a little noise of surprise from behind him, and then after a moment the press of Minseok’s face against his back. Luhan squeezed Shorty, and received a wiggle in return.

Luhan pushed the bedroom door open and tipped Minseok forward over his shoulder. Minseok gave a squeak as his back hit the bed, which quickly turned into a giggle when Luhan crawled up over him and nosed his way up Minseok’s stomach to kiss his neck.

“Are we gonna turn the lights on?” Minseok whispered.

Luhan sat back on his heels. With the curtains open, the light of a crescent moon and the streetlamp outside gave Minseok a glimmer of magic. He shook his head.

“No, I like this.”

Minseok closed his eyes and smiled, then sat up and reached for Luhan’s shirt.

“Let me at that body.”

He pulled Luhan’s shirt off and threw it over his shoulder, then returned his hands to Luhan’s chest, closely followed by his lips. When Luhan looked down, Minseok was looking back up at him, and as his mouth pressed to the soft space between ribs and abs Luhan felt a rush of warmth through his chest.

“Gorgeous,” Minseok murmured into Luhan’s skin. “Do all skaters look like Greek gods these days, or is it just you?”

“Pfft. Fuck off.” Luhan nudged Minseok’s shoulder and shook his head to try and clear the heat in his cheeks.

Minseok reached up and hooked a hand around the back of Luhan’s neck, and Luhan went willingly to meet his kiss. Straddling Minseok’s lap, he let his hands wander up under his tank top to tease around Minseok’s nipples.

“You’re playing a dangerous game there,” Minseok muttered.

“Is there a better game I should be playing?”

“You tell me.” Minseok let his hand trace down Luhan’s chest towards his open fly. “Is there another game you’d like to play?”

The touch of Minseok’s warm fingers tracing along the length of his cock finally plucked loose Luhan’s last thread of restraint. He pushed Minseok backwards and hooked an arm under his leg to push it up towards his chest.

“I can think of a couple of fun things I’d like to do.” He heard the edge of a growl in his own voice, felt it in the way Minseok shivered underneath him, and he ran his hand up the back of Minseok’s thigh until he reached his ass.

“Mm-” Minseok let out the breath of a moan. “Luhan, let me-”

“Hm?” Luhan paused, finger hovering just at the edge of Minseok’s hole where it had been tracing little circles.

“If you do it I’m just gonna come right away, and that’s no fun. Let me.” Minseok craned his neck up to kiss Luhan as he pushed his hand away.

Luhan shuffled back to let Minseok sit up and grab the lube from the far side of the bed. He watched, eyes straining in the dim light from outside, as Minseok flipped open the bottle and coated his fingers, then reached down between his thighs and pushed one into himself.

“Mm…”

Minseok’s head fell back between his shoulders, mouth open, finger working slowly in and out of his body. Luhan groaned and reached out to place his hand on Minseok’s knee, desperate just to touch any part of his skin.

“Fuck, you look so good.”

Minseok gave a little gasp of laughter, then rolled his head as he slid a second finger in.

“You look like you’re doing nothing interesting,” he said. “C’mon, I wanna see you touching yourself. Or am I boring to watch?”

Luhan didn’t even bother to respond, just dropped his hand to the open fly of his jeans and took hold of himself. Minseok gave an approving little smile and let his eyes fall closed again.

“Oh man, I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” Luhan muttered. “Shit. You look so good.” He popped the button of his fly open and pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees. “Yeah, fucking finger yourself, babe, open that ass up nice and wide.”

“Gotta stretch it to take your big cock,” Minseok replied, head lolling against his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed together in a restraint of pleasure. “Did you just call me ‘babe’?”

“Uh-” Luhan stopped, realising he’d just crossed a line, and felt his face begin to flame.

“That’s cute,” Minseok continued, eyes still closed and completely unaware of Luhan’s embarrassment. “I never really saw myself as a ‘babe’. You might have to keep that one.”

Luhan wasn’t entirely sure whether Minseok meant that in the sense that Luhan could keep calling him babe, or in the sense that Luhan should keep it to himself and not say it again. He ducked his chin to his chest to try and hide his burning cheeks and resolved to watch his mouth a little more closely in future.

Minseok moaned, and Luhan looked up to see that he had three fingers inside himself now. The stretch around his knuckles, the twitch of his cock against his stomach, the little frown creased through his forehead - Luhan lurched forward on the bed, his hand moving faster over his own cock.

“Oh my god, please-”

“Just a minute.” Minseok rolled his hips up against his hand and moaned again. “I’m almost there.” He slipped a fourth finger in and twisted his hand, gasped, pushed his hips forward. “Yeah, fuck, that’s it.” He slowly withdrew his fingers, still moving and circling as he pulled them out.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Minseok leaned forward and brushed a kiss over Luhan’s lips. “How do you want me?”

Luhan chased the shadow of his touch, stealing another kiss as Minseok pulled back. “How do you like it?”

He felt Minseok’s smirk against his lip. “Ideally, on my hands and knees, screaming into a pillow.”

“That works for me.”

Minseok gave a self-deprecating little huff. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’m rather lacking in the knees department.”

Luhan facepalmed internally.

“My entire balance kind of relies on my leg being in the middle. So unless your dick goes diagonally, that’s not gonna work.”

Luhan sat back to take a better look at Minseok. After a moment of consideration, he shrugged.

“It’s worth a shot.”

Minseok raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Luhan twirled a finger. “Yeah, let’s give it a try.”

Minseok looked sceptical, but turned around anyway. Luhan pulled his wallet out of his pocket to grab the condom, then shoved his jeans and boxers all the way off and climbed back onto the bed behind Minseok.

“This is so not going to work,” Minseok muttered into his shoulder as he looked back at Luhan rolling the condom on. “I’m not going to be able to balance.”

Luhan didn’t reply, just shuffled forward until he was kneeling directly behind Minseok and placed his hands on Minseok’s hips. Then, slowly, gently, he pulled him off balance.

“Oh my god oh my god fuck-” Minseok adjusted his hands on the bed as Shorty waggled frantically underneath him. “I’m gonna fall over!”

“You’re not going to fall over,” Luhan said. “I’ve got you.” He gave Minseok’s right hip a squeeze. “Put your weight on this hand.”

Minseok hesitated, then carefully let his hip drop into Luhan’s hold. With Minseok’s arms braced on the bed to take the front half of him, Luhan barely noticed the weight.

“See? I can hold you. Just trust me. I’m not going to drop you.”

“Oh my god.” Minseok dropped his head between his arms, then straightened his back and nodded. “Okay. Okay, let’s give it a go.”

Luhan took his left hand from Minseok’s hip and ran it across the small of his back, then down over his ass. Taking care not to push Minseok further off balance, he guided his cock in between Minseok’s cheeks and lined himself up. He waited for a moment until he saw the tension ease from Minseok’s shoulders, then pushed forward.

Minseok let out a shaking breath as the head of Luhan’s cock slid into him, followed by a whine of protest as he withdrew.

“No, come on, don’t fucking tease me- ahh-” he arched his back as Luhan pushed in again, deeper this time, pulling Minseok’s hips back to meet him. “Ohh, fuck, yeah.”

Luhan grunted in agreement and shifted his hands to get a better grip on Minseok’s hips, taking a breath to calm the storm in his chest. It was all so new, the feel of Minseok’s body holding him, pulling him in. This was a different man from the one who sat at the side of the rink and yelled instructions, encouragements, reminders - this was a Minseok who cried out in surprised pleasure, who pushed his hips back against Luhan to shove him deeper, who threw his head back and moaned like he wanted to wake the neighbours.

This was a Minseok that Luhan thought he could stand to see more of.

“Yeah, shit, right there-” Minseok made as if to move a hand, then wobbled and readjusted his position with a muttered curse. Luhan paused for a second to give him a chance to catch his balance, then resumed with a cautious thrust. Minseok made a noise in the back of his throat and shoved his ass backwards.

“Give it to me harder, c’mon - god dammit, Luhan, fuck me like you mean it!”

Luhan snorted and snapped his hips forward, sending Minseok scrambling for a better handhold.

“That’s more like it- come on, you can do better, I want you to make me scream-”

Luhan adjusted his grip on Minseok’s right hip and reached forward with his left hand to grab the fabric of Minseok’s tank top, which was bunched up around his armpits. With that fistful he yanked Minseok back, until his ass was flush against Luhan’s hips and Luhan could grind into him, rough and dirty and hard enough to drag a cry out of Minseok’s throat.

“How’s that?” he growled, grabbing a better handful and doing it again. “Is that hard enough - you gonna scream for me?”

“Keep- ah- keep going and y- y- eah- fuck.”

Minseok dissolved into a moan, and as Luhan thrust in again his arms buckled and he pitched forward onto the bed. Luhan stopped, his hand halfway to Minseok’s shoulder to help him back up, but Minseok just turned his head, groaned, and clenched his ass around him.

“Keep going.”

Luhan swore under his breath. Minseok’s cheeks were flushed, mouth open and panting; as Luhan circled his hips again Minseok brought a hand to his mouth and bit down on one knuckle to stifle a groan.

“Jesus-” he gritted out without unclamping his teeth, “right there, right fucking there, Lu-”

Luhan watched the ripples of pleasure across Minseok’s face, the way his eyebrows drew together at the stronger thrusts, the visible shivers that chased each other up his spine. The tiny gasps and moans that fell from his lips were on their own enough to send Luhan’s stomach into knots.

“Minseok, fuck - I’m gonna come-”

“Yeah,” Minseok whined, “yeah, shit yeah-”

Luhan heard the seams of Minseok’s top crack as he dragged him back onto his cock and shoved in hard. Minseok cried out, and his hand fell away from his teeth as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Luhan’s own moan got lost in the roar that rushed through his ears as he curled forward over Minseok’s back, hips shuddering, chest heaving.

He shifted a tingling hand, let go of Minseok’s shirt and reached around underneath him to grab his cock. Minseok gasped and pushed his hips weakly into Luhan’s grip, and Luhan jerked him with numb, fumbling strokes until Minseok moaned and came with a shudder onto the bedspread.

For a moment they just breathed. Then Luhan shifted back, pulled out and slumped sideways onto the bed. A split second later he remembered that he was supposed to be holding Minseok up, as Minseok made a surprised noise and toppled over.

“Mm- sorry.”

“‘S’okay.” Minseok rolled onto his side to face Luhan. His smile was lazy and satisfied, his cheeks still flushed, and in the moonlight Luhan could see the lingering trails of sweat across his forehead.

As they caught their breath, Minseok shifted a hand out into the space between them. Luhan summoned the willpower to move his muscles and flopped his own hand on top of Minseok’s, not holding so much as just touching. Minseok smiled and closed his eyes.

A second later he opened his eyes again to stare at Luhan. Luhan twitched a questioning frown, and Minseok blinked at him for a moment before speaking.

“You’re staying, right?”

Something in the tone of Minseok’s voice made Luhan wonder whether he meant for the night, or in general.

He nodded.

“Good.” Minseok closed his eyes again and squeezed Luhan’s hand. “That’s good.”

Luhan lay there and watched him - the way the clouds played moonlight across his cheeks, the soft part of his lips around breath, the occasional flicker of his eyelashes. When Minseok’s breath had been gentle and even for several minutes, Luhan tapped a finger against his palm.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yep,” Minseok replied, sounding wide awake. He arched his back, stretching against the sheets, then opened his eyes. “I guess under the covers would be a good idea, huh?”

“Yeah.” Luhan sat up. “Is there a bathroom up here?”

“Just the other side of the stairs. Hey-” he stopped, and Luhan paused halfway to the door to turn and look at him.

“What’s up?”

“Uh, while you’re up,” Minseok waved a vague hand in Luhan’s direction, “do you think you could maybe run downstairs and grab something for me? In the bathroom by the kitchen, it’s one of those little days-of-the-week cases. On the counter, bright green, can’t miss it.”

Luhan smiled. “No problem.”

He disposed of the condom and washed his hands in the upstairs bathroom, then trotted down the stairs. In the little bathroom off the kitchen, he located the case Minseok meant - a pillbox divided in seven, the plastic fluorescent green and translucent enough to show a slightly alarming number of pills in each compartment. Luhan’s heart gave a little clench - what the hell could all these possibly be for? - but he decided not to dwell on it. It was Minseok’s business, not his. For all Luhan knew, they could be vitamin supplements.

He filled a glass with water from the fridge, turned out the kitchen and dining lights, and crept back upstairs to the bedroom.

“Here,” he murmured, setting the case and glass down on the bedside table nearest Minseok, who had stripped off his tank top and was using it to wipe the last traces of sweat from his chest. “That’s the one you meant, right?”

“Yeah, perfect. Thanks.” Minseok gave him a grateful smile as he took the pill case. He flicked open the day’s compartment, tipped the pills into his palm, and took them a couple at a time in between swigs of water. He took a mouthful to wash the last of them down, then held out the half-empty glass to Luhan.

“Do you need some?”

Luhan hesitated, then nodded, took the glass and drank as Minseok shuffled back and slid under the covers.

“Gotta keep hydrated,” Minseok said, hands behind his head. “You gonna get in here, or what?”

“Uh, yeah.” Luhan climbed in next to Minseok and lay down a careful distance from him.

“Oh, come on, shy boy.” Minseok slid an arm under Luhan’s shoulders and hauled him onto his side. “Snuggle it up.” He pulled Luhan towards him, gentle but persuasive, his hand at Luhan’s back allowing no resistance. Luhan let himself be pulled, shuffling forward until his head was pillowed on Minseok’s bare chest.

“There we go,” Minseok murmured. “That’s more like it.” His hand came to rest on the back of Luhan’s head, and after a moment began scratching through his hair. “You comfy?”

Luhan nodded and wriggled closer to let his arm drape low across Minseok’s waist. Minseok was warm and soft, his chest an inky pillow, and if Luhan held his breath and listened really hard he could hear Minseok’s heart beating on the other side. Minseok’s hands were in his hair and at the curve of his shoulder, his fingers slow and undemanding, as if the feel of Luhan’s skin were a reward all in itself. Luhan closed his eyes and let himself sink into the sensation of Minseok’s touch.

-

It was the birds that woke him. One second Luhan was skimming across the ocean on invisible wings, and the next he was blinking his eyes open to a chorus of chirps outside the window.

He took a minute to remind himself where he was - Minseok’s house, upstairs in the huge, white bed, having stayed the night - and then another to work out which limbs belonged to him.

Minseok seemed to be spooned up behind him, with an arm slung across Luhan’s hips and his leg pressed along the curve of Luhan’s butt. He had his face squashed against Luhan’s shoulder blade, and once Luhan tuned into that he realised he could feel the gentle puff of Minseok’s breath across his arm. Luhan shifted a hand, felt the edge of the bed in front of him, and grinned internally. They’d fallen asleep on the other side of the bed. Luhan must have shifted away during the night, and Minseok had chased him across the mattress.

Reluctant as he was to disturb Minseok with the light still so pale outside, Luhan’s legs were begging to be stretched. One at a time he carefully straightened them, arching his back as much as he thought he could without jostling Minseok. As his spine popped into order, though, his butt suddenly connected with Minseok’s crotch.

Luhan crunched forward with an instant flush of heat across his cheeks. He wasn’t quite sure what the etiquette was upon waking up in someone else’s bed, but he was fairly confident that rubbing his ass all over their dick before they were even awake was a little inappropriate.

There was a sleepy mumble from behind him, and Minseok’s hand twitched on his hip. A second later they were crotch-to-butt again as Minseok stretched. Luhan cringed, but Minseok seemed not to notice, his mouth open against Luhan’s shoulder in a barely stifled yawn.

“Morning,” he sighed.

“Good morning.” Luhan shifted his hand to rub a thumb over Minseok’s wrist by way of greeting, then pillowed his hands back under his head.

“What time is it?”

“No idea.” Luhan squinted at the window. It was impossible to tell whether the sky was pre-dawn or just cloudy. “Early, I think.”

Minseok grunted a response and shoved his face back into Luhan’s shoulder. Luhan thought he read a pretty clear I’m-going-back-to-sleep message in that, but then Minseok’s hand twitched on his hip and his fingers began walking slowly back and forth. Luhan wondered whether Minseok might be trying to get frisky, but after a minute or two he was still walking the same circular path around Luhan’s hipbone. He didn’t seem inclined to move any further south; it seemed he was happy playing his fingers across Luhan’s stomach.

Were it not for the constant movement of Minseok’s fingers, Luhan would almost think he had fallen asleep again. His breath was slow and even on the back of Luhan’s neck, and aside from his hand, the rest of him was completely still.

In the meditative silence of the room, Luhan’s stomach gave a loud growl.

Minseok’s hand stilled, and he smirked into Luhan’s shoulder. “I guess it’s time to get up, huh?”

“I… would not say no to breakfast.”

Minseok chuckled. “I can arrange that.”

They sat up, and Luhan located his boxers and jeans at the foot of the bed. His shirt was not immediately forthcoming - it was somewhere under the covers, presumably, or had fallen down behind the headboard - but with the appreciative look Minseok gave his bare chest, Luhan decided he could look for it later. He hoisted Minseok into his arms and carried him down to the kitchen.

“Okay,” Minseok said, as he grabbed his pants from the floor and sat down in his wheelchair to pull them on. “I vote coffee. And toast. But coffee first.”

“Sounds good to me.”

There was something pleasing about this, Luhan thought - the two of them side-by-side at the kitchen counter, Minseok tamping and loading shots while Luhan measured milk into the steaming jug. With the heavy kitchen door closed against the draft from the hallway, the house didn’t feel as huge and empty as usual. The two of them seemed to fill the space.

As Minseok finished steaming the milk, Luhan slipped past him into the alcove leading to the bathroom.

“Back in a sec, I really gotta pee.”

“No worries.” Minseok threw a smile over his shoulder and slid a cup towards himself to begin pouring milk as the door closed.

Once he’d finished washing his hands, Luhan splashed a handful of water over his face and then, on a thought was that at least fifty percent vanity, opened the cabinet in search of mouthwash. The bottle he found had only a tiny amount left in it, so instead he squeezed a dollop of Minseok’s toothpaste onto his finger and brushed his teeth with that.

It was as he was scratching the sleepy fuzz off his bottom teeth that he heard a shout that made him jump almost out of his skin. It wasn’t that the voice was an unfamiliar one that scared him, or that it was calling Minseok’s name.

It was the fact that it seemed to be coming from upstairs.

Luhan clutched his chest and doubled over the sink to cough out a lungful of toothpaste. The voice gave another yell and began to thunder down the stairs. Luhan quickly rinsed his mouth and sluiced the water off his face, then slid the door open and stepped out into the alcove just as the kitchen door banged against the wall.

“Minseok!”

“Good morning.” Minseok, now sitting at the counter, swivelled on the barstool to raise an eyebrow at the newcomer.

“Did you sleep upstairs?”

“You entered my house surprisingly quietly,” Minseok continued, “and without saying hello.”

“I thought you’d still be asleep.” Even just from the back of his head, Luhan could tell the new guy thought this was beside the point. “You slept upstairs!”

“That is still my bedroom, isn’t it? I noticed you changed the sheets.”

“Minseok, you haven’t even been upstairs in three years, wh-”

“That is categorically untrue.”

“Okay, you’ve been up once. What happened, what made you sleep up there now?”

In the next second, three things happened at once: the new guy looked down at the counter, where there was an extra coffee cup sitting next to Minseok’s; Minseok looked up and met Luhan’s eyes over the new guy’s shoulder; and Luhan had a split second in which to feel absolute horror as the new guy noticed the direction of Minseok’s gaze and began to turn around.

They stared at each other for a moment. Luhan was suddenly very aware of his bare chest, and resisted the urge to cross his arms.

“Um.” The new guy - young, bespectacled, and improbably cute - seemed to struggle for words. “Who the fuck is this?”

“This is Luhan.” Minseok picked up his coffee and took a sip, seeming completely unfazed by this confrontation. “He’s a friend from the old days.”

Spectacles curled a lip. “Yeah, right. How old are you, kid?”

“Uh…” Luhan swallowed. “Twenty-one?”

Over Spectacles’ shoulder, Minseok gave a little jerk, wiped a trickle of coffee from his chin and quickly picked up his mug again, the picture of nonchalance as Spectacles rounded on him again.

“Yeah, bullshit he’s from the old days.” Spectacles flung a hand in Luhan’s direction. “Minseok, you’re fucking a child!”

“Jongdae.” That eyebrow was back, sardonic and unbothered in Spectacles’ direction. “What’s half of twenty-eight?”

“Uh.” Spectacles - Jongdae - paused. “Fourteen. Wh-”

“Add seven.”

“Twenty-one? Min-”

“So we’re fine.” Minseok shrugged. “Besides, I’m not fucking him.”

There was a moment of collective disbelief. Luhan was standing here shirtless in Minseok’s kitchen and he was really going to pretend-

“He’s fucking me.”

Luhan let out an incredulous laugh and caught the sparkle in Minseok’s eye as Jongdae threw his hands in the air.

“Oh my god. I give up.”

“Relax. Have coffee.” Minseok nodded towards the espresso machine. “Are you gonna do some shopping for me today? Cause I need condoms.”

“For fuck’s sake, Minseok-”

“That’s generally what they’re for, yeah.”

Jongdae slumped down on the second barstool and dropped his head into his hands with a groan. Minseok just laughed and patted him on the back, winking at Luhan, and nodded towards his coffee until Luhan peeled himself out of the alcove and tiptoed across the kitchen to the counter.

“It is nice to meet you, I should say,” Jongdae said, as he lifted his face out of his hands. “Sorry, I’m just a little… surprised. I’m Kim Jongdae, by the way.”

“Oh yeah!” Minseok gestured between them. “Luhan, this is Jongdae, my second cousin and default best friend. He comes over sometimes to help me clean in hard-to-reach places - like the entire upper floor of my house.”

Jongdae gave him an indignant glare. “Are you really still doing the second cousin thing? You know you can just call me your cousin, right?”

“Well, if you were my cousin then I’d feel a little guilty about not meeting you until I was like twenty.” Minseok smirked. “You’re just a distant relative. My conscience is clear.”

Jongdae sighed, long-suffering. Luhan sensed this was a conversation they had had before. Judging by the glint in Minseok’s eyes, it was a conversation they would probably have again.

-

Having left Minseok and Jongdae to their coffee and skirted the morning traffic on the cycle path down into the city, Luhan was at the rink and strapping his pads on before most of the others would even be out of bed. Nevertheless, when he arrived Yixing was already rolling up the side doors to let the sun into the warehouse.

“Morning, Xing!”

“Lu!” Yixing finished winding up the last door and switched off the control box. “You’re here early today.”

“So are you,” Luhan pointed out.

Yixing just grinned. “I’ve got nowhere better to be.”

Luhan snorted. “And you think I have?”

“Hmm.” Yixing raised an eyebrow. “How about Minseok’s house?”

The heat must have shown in Luhan’s cheeks, because Yixing just turned away with a sigh.

“One day you’re going to tell me how you managed to drag him out of retirement.” He glanced over his shoulder at Luhan as he headed back to the corner office. “God knows I’ve been trying for years. How the hell did you get him back to the rink?”

Twenty-four hours ago, Luhan would have made a quip about it being something to do with his sweet ass. Now he just shrugged, head ducked to hide his guilty blush as he followed Yixing into the warehouse.

With the entire rink to himself, Luhan launched straight into a vert run, trying to apply the techniques he’d observed in Minseok’s videos. He fell on his head a couple of times - including one truly terrifying moment of upside-down air kedidi, his legs bicycling frantically as he tried to right himself before he hit the floor - but by the time the others started trickling into the rink, he thought he just about had it right.

“Yo, nice!” Kris skated up alongside him as he landed an only slightly wobbly 900. “When did you learn that one? You’re like… not falling on your face.”

“I love how everyone has so much faith in me,” Luhan muttered, with a smack to Kris’s arm.

Kris just laughed and swerved in front of Luhan, skating backwards to look at him.

“Where were you yesterday, dude? I didn’t see you all day.”

Luhan’s brain stalled for a moment. Somehow illegally riding a motorbike without a license and then fucking a former world champion didn’t seem like the right answer.

“I had a twenty-four-hour ban,” he said finally.

“Bruh. Did you fight Chanyeol too?” Kris jerked his head towards the top of the half-pipe, where Baekhyun was perched precariously in Chanyeol’s lap and engaged in some rather vigorous face-sucking. “High five!”

Luhan rolled his eyes. “I swear you just antagonise him for fun.”

“Uh, yeah?” Kris shrugged. “Why else would I do it?”

“Why can’t you- oh dude, watch out-” Luhan steered Kris out of the way of one of the new kids, a gangly teenager wobbling his way out away from the side rail as if for the first time. “Why can’t the two of you just make an effort to get along?”

“We do get along.” Kris looked surprised. “Chanyeol’s my best friend, man.”

“Your what?” Luhan gaped. “Wait, are you serious? No way, you guys legit hate each other.”

Kris snorted with laughter. “Channie and I have literally known each other since we were in diapers. He’s my best bro.”

“Then why are you always at each other’s throats?”

Kris shrugged and glanced over his shoulder to judge the jump up onto the bar. “Cause it’s fun? And cause apparently Baek really gets off on seeing Chanyeol knock people around. I mean, not my kink, but if I can help a bro out…” he trailed off and turned back around in time to jump the ramp.

Luhan shook his head in astonishment and peeled off to take another run at the bigger ramp. He threw himself into a 900 with all the confidence he could muster, putting every ounce of his momentum into the spin to try and get all the way around before he landed…

He touched down unevenly, his body not quite over his skates as they hit the ground, but he didn’t fall and managed to regain his balance with only half a heart attack. It was shaky, he thought, but there. Shaky, but there.

He skated over to the side, jumped the railing, and grabbed his water bottle from the side pocket of his bag. As he drank, he fished his phone out of his jacket to check the time and saw that he had a text waiting. He unlocked his phone, opened his inbox, and sprayed a mouthful of water all over the seat in front of him.

From: Minseok
u fucked me so hard last night i can’t walk

Luhan spluttered and smacked a fist against his chest to try and dislodge the water from his lungs. Despite the instant flush in his cheeks, though, there was a swell of pride bubbling up under his heart at the thought that -

Wait.

Luhan slapped a hand to his forehead.

To: Minseok
omfg

From: Minseok
;P

From: Minseok
get it?

To: Minseok
yes i get it you one legged asshole

From: Minseok
i think i’m hilarious ^-^

To: Minseok
are you going to do… stand up comedy?

Minseok’s next text was a string of emojis, half of them crying with laughter and the rest just crying. Luhan snorted and tucked his phone back into his jacket. With a grin and a last swig of water, he vaulted the railing and returned to the rink.

-

The next morning, when Luhan arrived at Minseok’s house, he rang the doorbell and waited for the buzz of the intercom. After a full minute of silence, he rang again, but there was still no answer. Had Minseok gone out? Luhan frowned. He couldn’t have - he had texted Luhan just last night telling him to come over in the morning. He would have let him know if his plans had changed.

Just as Luhan was about to turn and head back down the driveway, he heard the clunk of the deadbolt being drawn back. The door cracked, then swung open, and there stood Minseok, squinting at him in the morning light.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “It’s you.”

In a loose T-shirt and boxers, his hair a bird’s nest and eyes barely open, Minseok had clearly only just dragged himself out of bed. He blinked at Luhan as if he couldn’t quite rationalise his presence.

“Oh my god, did I wake you up?” Luhan grimaced guiltily as Minseok nodded. “Sorry, I’ll go, I can come back later-”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Minseok turned and began hopping back down the hallway, leaving the door open. Luhan tiptoed in and closed it behind him, then followed Minseok down the hall. Instead of going all the way to the end, though, Minseok turned through the second door, between the garage and the kitchen at the end. Luhan paused, then approached the doorway.

“This is where I normally sleep,” Minseok muttered, hopping over to the dresser by the window and pulling open a drawer. “When I don’t have someone to carry my lazy ass up the stairs, that is.”

Luhan looked around the room. This was more like it, he thought; this was the kind of room he would have expected Minseok to have. No white linen and spotless surfaces here. The sheets on the single bed were a splattered print of black, red and purple, nested with a small mountain of pillows and - Luhan noted with amusement - the peeking faces of at least three teddy bears. The bedside table held Minseok’s phone, a pair of headphones, and, among various odds and ends, a couple of photo frames. Luhan took a surreptitious step closer to peer at the photos. In the first, he recognised nineteen-year-old Minseok and Yixing, standing in front of the rink with their arms linked and beaming smiles on their faces. The second picture was of a similarly-aged Minseok sitting beside a younger boy with a truly shocking amount of hair gel and the nerdiest glasses Luhan had ever seen - Jongdae, he realised with a barely repressed snort of laughter.

“Have you had breakfast?”

Luhan turned around and found Minseok dressed and in his wheelchair, pushing himself towards the bedroom door.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Cool. I haven’t.” Minseok lifted a hand from his wheel to stifle a yawn. “You get to watch me dezombify.”

“Coffee?” Luhan suggested as he followed him into the kitchen.

“Yes please.”

Luhan laughed and went to get the milk from the fridge.

Minseok seemed to wake up about halfway through his bowl of cereal, and by the time they finished their coffee he was positively chipper.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested as he hopped over to the sink with the empty mugs.

“A walk?” Luhan couldn’t help glancing down at Minseok’s leg.

“Oh shut up, I still talk like every other human being.” Minseok pretended to throw a spoon at him. “Cheeky bastard.”

He rinsed the mugs and left them on the bench, then hopped back to his wheelchair. Luhan slid off his barstool and followed him back to the little bedroom off the hall.

“Where the fuck did I put my gloves?” Minseok muttered, parking himself in the middle of the room and doing a visual 360. “This is what I get for not going out enough.”

“Gloves?” Luhan glanced around.

“Yeah, they’re- aha!” Minseok stood up and pushed a stack of papers aside on top of the dresser, then grabbed a pair of black fingerless gloves from underneath them. “Bingo. They need a fuckin’ wash, whatever, I don’t care.” He slipped them on and strapped the velcro over the back of his hands. “Alright, leggo.”

Luhan led the way down the hall and pulled open the front door, then stopped as Minseok gave a snort behind him.

“Three guesses why that’s not going to work.”

Luhan smacked himself in the forehead and pushed the door closed again.

“Yep. Just remembered. Sorry.”

Minseok just laughed and rolled down into the garage.

“I really need to get a ramp put in,” he said as he picked up the remote and opened the roller door. “But I’m cheap and lazy.”

Minseok seemed to have a route in mind; as they reached the bottom of the driveway he turned a decisive right and set off along the sidewalk towards the centre of the development. They walked in silence for several minutes, Minseok seemingly content with the background chirping of the birds and the whir of his wheels. As they turned a third corner, Luhan plucked up the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for the past day.

“So, uh…”

Minseok glanced back at him. “What’s up?”

“Jongdae said… or you said… you’d only been upstairs once? Since, uh…”

“Oh yeah.” Minseok looked back at the pavement in front of him. “Yeah, it turns out stairs and I aren’t such good friends these days.”

Luhan stayed silent, hoping Minseok would elaborate on that. After a moment, with a sigh, he did.

“So after my accident, it was a good few months before I could even get out of a wheelchair, right? So after they sent me home from the hospital, it obviously made more sense for me to sleep downstairs rather than people having to carry me up and down every day. But, uh, when I could get in and out of my chair by myself, and hop around and stuff, we thought it would be a good idea for me to try going up and down the stairs, so that I could sleep in my actual bedroom again.”

He paused and glanced over his shoulder, as if to make sure that Luhan was still listening.

“So Yixing and Jongdae came over - or Yixing came over, I should say, Jongdae was still my live-in nurse at that point - and they helped me up the stairs. One stair at a time. Hop, balance, rest, hop. It took ten minutes to get to the top.” He paused, smiled, shook his head a little. “I went straight into the bedroom and threw myself on the bed. I’d been sleeping on the shitty spare bed that used to be in that little room, and I fucking missed my bed, right? And we all just hung out in there, lying around and talking and laughing and waiting for me to have the energy to go back down, cause I was fucking exhausted. And then after about an hour we went back downstairs.”

That sounded like a fairly good experience to Luhan, and he wondered why Minseok hadn’t gone upstairs since. Then he realised that the story wasn’t finished.

“The next day, I tried going up by myself.”

Despite Minseok’s casual tone, Luhan’s stomach began to sink.

“I tripped halfway up. Hit my face on the edge of a stair. Have you ever broken your nose?” He looked up at Luhan, who shook his head. “Lots of blood. Lots. It felt like it was more than- I mean.” He paused and seemed to shake himself. “I think I blacked out a bit? Like, I dunno if it was from the impact or the pain or just the sight of all that blood, but when I came around there was just a fucktonne of blood and I couldn’t get up cause my hands were shaking and it felt like I was gonna pass out again, so I had to shuffle back downstairs on my butt to find my phone and call Jongdae, cause he was out shopping, and he freaked out and then it was back in the hospital to make sure I hadn’t concussed myself and fuck, man, realigning a nose hurts more than breaking it in the first place-” he blew out a breath and shook his head. “So. No more stairs for me.”

Luhan blinked to clear the sparkles at the edge of his vision. Just hearing about it made him feel sick to his stomach; it wasn’t hard to imagine how an experience like that could put Minseok off stairs forever.

“So you just stayed downstairs,” he murmured.

“Yep!” Minseok gave an extra hard push to his wheels and zoomed forward. “Got Jongdae to move the rest of my shit down, bought a new mattress for the spare bed, and that’s where I’ve been ever since.”

“Until-”

“Until you swept me off my foot and carried me upstairs to deflower me.” Minseok gave a crooked little smirk.

Luhan’s brain was still reeling, though. Minseok hadn’t been up those stairs in three years, yet he hadn’t even hesitated to suggest it when Luhan had asked where they should go.

“Weren’t you… I dunno, wasn’t it weird? Going up again after so long?”

“Well.” Minseok’s smirk turned into a full grin. “I imagine it probably would have been, if I’d bothered to think about it. I was more concerned with finding a flat surface to fuck on.”

Luhan laughed, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of significance around the whole thing, even if Minseok brushed it off like it was nothing. It must have been a pretty traumatic fall to keep him from going upstairs for three years, and to go so willingly in Luhan’s arms was no small thing. Luhan couldn’t help but feel that he had been part of something quietly momentous.

“Aww yes, it’s still here.”

Luhan snapped out of his reverie to see that they had arrived at a park. The children’s playground in the middle was bordered on one side by trees and grass, and on the other by a concrete basketball court with a slightly dilapidated tennis net strung across the middle. Minseok wheeled himself across the grass to the rubber tiling of the playground and parked his wheelchair next to the swings.

“I was worried they were gonna tear this all down,” he said, hoisting himself out of his chair and into a swing, “cause last time I came past it was all a construction site. But I think they were just replacing the bark chip with this rubber shit. Good of them, really - mulched up tree bits aren’t particularly wheelchair-friendly.” He kicked himself back and began to swing.

Luhan watched him for a minute, then wandered over and took the swing next to him. They swung in companionable silence, Luhan kicking off harder and harder to match Minseok’s pace until they were both flying through the air, the chains of the swings going almost slack at the top of their arc.

What a strange pair they must make, Luhan thought, to anyone who happened to walk down the street and see them: Luhan in his ripped jeans and Doc Martens, Minseok swinging his one sneakered foot underneath him, wisps of purple hair escaping from under his perpetual beanie. When Luhan glanced over, Minseok’s mouth was open in half a grin, eyes fixed on the ground as he kicked off and the sky as he soared.

“I dare you to jump,” Minseok said, on a particularly high upswing.

“I dare you first.”

Minseok laughed. “I am categorically not going to do that.”

Luhan grinned and let his feet hang to drag against the ground. By degrees he slowed, and when he was only about a metre off the ground at the apex of his arc he slid out of the seat and jumped to the ground.

“Weak,” Minseok snorted, still soaring high above Luhan’s head.

“Let’s see you do better, then.”

Minseok smirked down at him. “I’d rather not break my leg. I’ve only got one, you know.”

Luhan rolled his eyes and waited, amused, for Minseok to slow down enough to hop off at a height of perhaps half a metre. He toppled over anyway, Shorty waving frantically underneath him as he tried and failed to catch his balance.

“Ah, whatever,” he sighed, rolling over to look up at the sky. “You win.”

Luhan snickered and reached down to pull him upright so he could hop back to his chair. Minseok straightened his beanie and released his brakes, then turned himself in the direction of the basketball court.

“Now, I could be wrong,” he said, “but I’m pretty sure I saw a ball in there just now.”

He reached through the gate to lift the latch and let it swing open with a squeal of hinges. On the flat court, without divots in the grass or stray bark chips underwheel, he gave himself a push and raised his arms to freewheel across the concrete.

“Yesss!” He scooped up an abandoned basketball from the far corner of the court and lobbed it towards Luhan. “You play?”

“Not for about five years,” Luhan admitted.

“Same. I used to play with the local kids here on the weekends. I was that weird older guy their parents always warned them about.” He paused while Luhan took a shot at the hoop, then caught the ball as it bounced off the backboard and leaned forward to dribble it on the ground. “I was on my high school’s A team, though.” He used his foot to push himself backwards towards the tennis net halfway down the court. “One time we were playing a semifinal game, three seconds left on the clock, two points down, and I had the ball at the halfway line. There were all these fucking seven-foot goons up in my face, and I was the shortest guy on my team, right? I mean, obviously. But I could jump. Goddamn, could I jump. Like, almost my entire height. And so the clock was ticking down, and we were about to lose, so I was like ‘fuck it’, and I jumped, and I took the shot from halfway down the court.” He raised the ball and aimed as if to shoot it at the hoop. “Most tense moment of my high school basketball career. It hit the hoop, rolled around the rim…” he paused.

Luhan was almost holding his breath. “And?”

“And it went out.” Minseok smirked at him. “We lost. Shit happens.”

He shot, and the ball bounced against the rim before dropping neatly through.

“What?” Minseok’s jaw hit the floor. “What the fuck? Are you serious?” He smacked both hands over his face. “Where was that shot ten years ago?”

Luhan doubled over and laughed until his stomach hurt, until he was nearly crying, hysterical with glee as Minseok gaped incredulously at the hoop.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Minseok scowled. “Fuckin’ laugh it up.”

“Your face,” Luhan giggled.

Minseok picked up the ball as it rolled towards him. “Let’s see what you’ve got, then, smart-ass.” He threw the ball at Luhan and positioned himself between him and the hoop. “Why don’t you just try and get it past me?”

It was a challenge, and Luhan met it with a snort. He dribbled the ball towards Minseok, who had his hands on his wheels as if he were realistically agile enough to cut Luhan off should he dodge sideways.

As Luhan raised the ball to shoot, though, Minseok reached out and smacked it straight out of his hands. Dropping it into his lap, he turned and took off towards the hoop.

“Travelling!” Luhan yelled, running after him. “Travelling, you cheater!”

“I am in a wheelchair!”

Still laughing, Luhan leaped in front of Minseok and caught the ball as he tried to shoot it.

“You have an unfair height advantage,” Minseok pointed out.

“I thought you could jump your entire height,” Luhan snickered, and turned to take the shot himself. Before he could even raise the ball halfway, though, Minseok grabbed the back of his jeans and tugged him backwards. The shot went so wide that the ball ricocheted off the edge of the backboard and skittered away into the corner.

“Cheat!” Luhan cried as Minseok wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him into his lap. “You play dirty!”

“Yeah, I do.” Minseok turned Luhan’s head with a hand on his cheek and kissed him. It was more laughter than lips, their teeth clicking together as they giggled into each other. Luhan was half on Minseok’s leg and half falling onto the ground as the wheelchair began to roll backwards, so Minseok reached down to put his brakes on, then scooped Luhan properly into his lap so that his legs were dangling over one wheel. He slid his hands into Luhan’s hair and kissed him again, more seriously this time, his eyelashes flickering against the side of Luhan’s nose, teeth nipping at his bottom lip.

This felt different, kissing Minseok without the implication of sex. Sweeter, somehow - more deliberate, the way he pressed into Luhan’s mouth. Luhan closed his eyes and let himself melt.

It was almost five minutes before Minseok pulled away to rest his forehead against Luhan’s nose. Luhan pecked another kiss to the tip of his nose, and Minseok gave a little huff of laughter.

“Do you want to go somewhere with me?” Minseok murmured.

Anywhere, Luhan thought, but he just nodded and watched Minseok’s smile dimple into his cheeks.

-

They drove to the other side of the city, past Yixing’s warehouse rink and through the industrial district to the far edge between city and suburb. Minseok parked in a disabled space and hauled his wheelchair out of the back of the van, then nodded towards the shop in front of them.

“You wanna get the door for me?”

As Minseok maneuvered himself through the doorway, Luhan looked up at the sign above them: in plain, unembellished letters, Street Inc. There were no other decorations, no window displays - just black on silver, as if the name itself were all the advertisement the shop could need.

The inside of the establishment was a totally different story.

Brightly lit, with the sun streaming through the high windows and rendering the fluorescent lights nearly redundant, the shop was filled wall-to-wall with racks of merchandise - shirts, hoodies, hats, bags - in varying shades and styles, all bearing the kind of snarky slogans that Luhan thought could have come directly out of Minseok’s mouth. With punk rock on low over the speakers and an underlying smell of apple cut through with antiseptic, Luhan came to the slightly unsettling realisation that if Minseok were a room, he would be this one.

Minseok put on the brakes and stood from his chair to lean over the waist-high counter where a young man sat reading, his bright red hair hanging over one eye as he chewed absent-mindedly at the silver bar pierced vertically through his bottom lip.

“Hey, dude,” Minseok said. “Is Tao in?”

The man looked up from his book. He seemed surprised - but then, Luhan thought, that might just have been his eyes. He looked Minseok up and down, then nodded and turned in his seat.

“Tao!” he yelled towards the wall behind him. “Client for you!”

There was an answering shout from the other side of the wall, and a moment later a head appeared around the corner. Bleached hair, undercut, three diamond dermal piercings in a row up his cheek - this, evidently, was Tao.

“What can I do for yo- Minseok?”

Minseok gave a little salute. “What up.”

“Dude, what the fuck, bring it in.”

Tao leaned over the counter to give Minseok a one-armed hug, pounding him on the back with his other hand. As tall as Minseok was short, he practically dragged Minseok off the floor with the force of his embrace.

“Where the hell have you been for the last, what, three years?”

“I’ve been around.” Minseok clapped Tao on the shoulder and pointed to Luhan. “This is Luhan, he’s a skating friend of mine. Lu, this is Huang Zitao. Best fucking artist I’ve ever met, you would not believe the shit he can do with a needle.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luhan said.

Tao held out his hand for Luhan to shake. “Likewise.” He turned back to Minseok. “So what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering.” Minseok’s mouth gave a little twist. “You know how you never ever do the same design twice, like, ever?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I was wondering if you could maybe make an exception to that for the wave piece you did on my leg.”

Tao’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Um. Why?”

“Cause it’s fucking gone.”

“What do you mean, it’s gone?” Tao leaned over the counter to peer down at Minseok’s leg, then jumped and staggered backwards. “Holy fuck, what happened to you?”

Minseok shrugged. “Tiger attack?”

Tao clapped a hand to his forehead and slumped back against the wall behind him, then turned and pounded a fist on it.

“SEHUN! I AM DISTRESSED!”

A door opened around the far corner of the wall and a rainbow appeared, closely followed by the man out of whose head it was growing.

“What’s wrong?” He noticed Minseok and gave him a wave. “Oh, hey Minseok. How’s it going?”

“Leg!” Tao whisper-shrieked, pointing at Minseok. “Leg!!”

“Leg?” Sehun frowned and stepped around the counter. “Woah! Dude! Did you get bitten by a shark or something?”

“Yep!” Minseok held out a fist for Sehun to bump. “Finally got rid of the broccoli hair, huh?”

Sehun pulled a face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Okay,” Tao declared. “Okay. I’m recovered. Yes, I can definitely do that piece again for you.”

“I was so hoping you would say that,” Minseok said. “I only had it for about two weeks, it didn’t even get a chance to heal properly.”

“Seriously,” Tao frowned, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside the guy with the red hair. “What the fuck happened? Soo, is my book over there?”

“Yep.” Soo leaned down under the counter and handed Tao a sketchbook. “You want me to block you out for a consult?”

“Sure.” Tao flipped open the book as Soo turned to the computer at the far end of counter. “Alright. Let’s see if we can recreate this.”

As Tao drew, Minseok told him the story of losing his leg. There were extra details in this retelling that Luhan hadn’t heard before - Minseok had been speeding; the other car had run a red light. Hearing Minseok talk about being dragged twenty metres across the intersection made Luhan’s stomach turn, so he turned away only to find Sehun sitting right beside him, staring intently at his face.

“Uh- hello.”

Sehun, still examining Luhan’s face, did not speak for a moment. Just as Luhan was about to say something, or perhaps shuffle awkwardly away from him, Sehun licked his lips.

“Let me poke holes in your face.”

“Uh-” Luhan shrank away. “What?”

“Can confirm,” Minseok called, glancing up from Tao’s drawing, “he’s good at poking holes in faces. And nipples.”

“And dicks,” Tao added.

“LU, GET YOUR DICK PIERCED.”

“I’M NOT GETTING MY DICK PIERCED.”

Sehun leaned across to hover in front of Luhan’s face. “You would look really good with a septum piercing.”

“What, in my nose?” Luhan cupped a protective hand over his face. “No way!”

“Hmm.” Sehun narrowed his eyes consideringly. “Do you have any piercings other than your ears, or is that it?”

“That’s it,” Minseok supplied.

Tao stopped drawing and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, what?” Minseok rolled his shoulders. “Wow, it’s super hot in here.”

Tao snorted and went back to his sketchbook.

“Okay,” Sehun said. “So nothing too extreme, then. Helix?” He pinched the cartilage at the top of his own ear, between the two rings there. “Eyebrow, maybe.”

Luhan winced. “Do I have to do this?”

“No.” Sehun leaned back against the counter. “You don’t have to do anything, I’m not gonna hold you down and stab you. I mean. Not unless you want me to.” He winked.

“Alright,” Tao announced, dropping his pencil onto the counter. “If you’re happy with that, I’ll go pretty it up and then we’re good to go!” He leaned over to check the time on the computer. “Do you wanna do this now? My afternoon booking chickened out, so I’ve got a slot if you want it.”

“Fuck, sure.” Minseok slid down off his stool. “Do you want me to pay a deposit first? Or just pay it all after?”

“Pfft.” Tao waved a dismissive hand. “You know what? I’ve already got the other guy’s deposit for a four-hour booking, so I don’t even care. Half price for you, my man.”

“Are you serious? Dude!”

“Call it a touch-up!”

Tao disappeared into the back room with the sketchbook. As Luhan was about to turn to Minseok and ask him what the design looked like, Sehun stretched his arms over his head with an expansive yawn.

“Is it lunchtime yet?” He opened a heavily-graffitied minifridge at the end of the counter and pulled out several cans of Red Bull.

“Soo!”

“If you throw that at my head I’m throwing it right back at you,” Soo said. Sehun tossed the can to him, and he caught it without looking up from the computer.

“Minseok, you want one? Lu? Your name is Lu, right?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s actually Luh-”

“Awesome. You want a drink?”

“Um.” Luhan glanced at Minseok. “Sure.”

Sehun smacked a can down in front of him, then rolled one along the counter towards Minseok, who rolled it right back.

“No thanks. You think I wanna be all jumpy while Tao’s tattooing me?”

“Hah.” Sehun clicked a finger at him. “Fair enough.”

Tao stuck his head around the corner. “Yo, Min, we’re good to go!”

“Aww yes.” Minseok slid off the stool and into his wheelchair. “Let’s fuckin’ do this.”

“Are you guys gonna come hang out in here?” Tao said to Sehun. “I’ll open up the room.”

“We’ve just opened drinks,” Sehun held up his can. “But go ahead and open it up, we’ll be in in a minute.”

Minseok followed Tao through into the back room, and Sehun turned back to Luhan.

“Okay seriously though, you have perfect ears.”

Luhan almost inhaled a mouthful of Red Bull.

“What?”

“Your earlobes are begging for like two more studs each. Soo, wouldn’t he look great with a row of three in his earlobe?”

“I am not ganging up on customers with you, Sehun.”

Sehun sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m just saying. If you’ve ever thought about getting more piercings, I would be delighted to bling you up.”

Luhan pursed his lips. He wasn’t really averse to the idea, he’d just never really considered it before.

After a moment of silence, Soo finally looked up from the computer.

“He is good at what he does,” he said. “If that’s what you’re worried about. He did this one for me-” he pointed at the vertical labret through his lip, “- and I’d still come to him for my next one even if I didn’t work here.”

“See?” Sehun pointed emphatically at Soo. “Even Kyungsoo likes me! And he’s a hard man to please!”

“When did I say I liked you?” Soo said, going back to his computer. “You’re just a good piercer.” As Sehun turned away to pout, he looked up and gave Luhan a wink.

Luhan ducked his head to think for a minute. He tried to imagine himself with more earrings. He couldn’t really picture it, but somehow he got the impression it would make him feel cooler. At the very least he would look more punk.

“You think I should get two more?”

Sehun nodded and raised his eyebrows over his can of Red Bull.

“Do you want to?”

Luhan shrugged. “Sure.”

“Awesome!” Sehun pumped a fist. “I would go with two more, just in one ear. It’s up to you.”

“That sounds good. Uh. How much does it cost?”

Sehun scratched his chin. “Hm. Depends. Usually fifty for one, eighty for two.”

“Oh.” Luhan’s heart sank. “That’s…”

“What’s your relationship to Minseok?” Sehun cut in.

Luhan bit his tongue.

“Um, he’s, uh- he’s my coach, and, uh-”

“And he knows exactly what piercings you do and do not have.” Sehun’s grin was slightly unsettling. “You’re a terrible liar, but at least you try to keep his confidence. I’ll do both for forty. Come on.”

Sehun turned and strode off around the corner to his side of the back room. Luhan blinked after him, clutching his can weakly in one hand. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d just been given some sort of test.

“Yes,” Soo remarked from the other end of the counter, “he’s always like that. No, he will never change. Yes, you are his friend now. God help you.” As Luhan slid off his stool, Soo nodded at his Red Bull. “Leave that out here. No food or drink in the back.”

Luhan left the can on the counter and followed Sehun around the corner and through the door. He immediately saw what Tao had meant by “opening up” the room. The area closest to them was set up as a piercer’s studio - plastic drawers of individually wrapped needles and studs, a paper-covered bench, and a counter lined with various bottles of disinfectant. In the middle of the room was a sliding door which had been concertinaed back towards the wall, and on the other side was Tao’s tattoo studio, where Minseok was lying face-down on a similar bench. Tao’s walls were covered in pictures of artwork he had drawn and tattoos he had done, and between the boxes of inks and wipes on the counter were stacks of flash books. As Luhan entered Tao looked over his shoulder and grinned, nudging a pair of glasses up his nose.

“He convinced you, huh?”

“Yeah.” Luhan shrugged. “What am I gonna do, let Minseok be more punk than me?”

“I will always be more punk than you,” Minseok said. “You’ve got fifty tats and a surprise amputation to catch up on if you want to be as punk as me.”

“Is amputation a requirement for being punk?” Sehun wondered, sliding open drawers to find the right needle.

“No,” Minseok said, “but if you’re gonna have an amputation, a surprise amputation is the punkest kind.”

Tao laughed and shook his head.

“Okay, you ready?”

“Hell fuckin’ yes.”

The machine on the rolling table next to Tao buzzed to life. With Tao sitting on the near side of the bench, Luhan couldn’t see the area he was tattooing, but he heard the sound change as the needle touched Minseok’s skin. Minseok didn’t even wince.

“Come choose your jewellery, dude,” Sehun said. “You want just plain studs?”

“Sure.” Luhan turned around to look at the array of plastic packets in the drawer Sehun had open.

Sehun pulled out four little pouches. “Gold or silver?”

“I vote gold,” Minseok called. “Silver’s boring.”

“Your earrings are literally all silver,” Tao muttered.

“That’s cause the rest of me is so interesting I’d explode if I put in a gold stud.”

Luhan snorted and turned back to Sehun. “Gold sounds good.”

“Sweet.” Sehun dropped two of the pouches back into the drawer and nudged it closed. “Sit down here, let’s do some placement.”

Luhan perched on the edge of the bench and Sehun tore open a disinfectant wipe.

“Which ear?”

“Mmm.” Luhan leaned sideways to see past Sehun into the mirror on the wall. “Right? No. Left.”

Sehun squinted at him. “Yeah, left. Works better with your hair.” He wiped Luhan’s earlobe with the disinfectant and picked up a pen. “I’m gonna do two dots and then you’re gonna look in the mirror and tell me if you like that placement.” He leaned in close to Luhan’s face and poked his ear with the marker, then stood back so Luhan could see himself in the mirror. “Does that look alright to you?”

“Looks good,” Luhan nodded, but Sehun rolled his eyes.

“Actually get up and have a look, dude. It’s your ear, you gotta be happy with where I’m putting them.”

Luhan slid off the bench and examined himself in the mirror. The dots followed his existing stud in a curve up his earlobe. Even just in black marker, Luhan thought they made him look about a thousand times cooler.

“I like that,” he said.

“Sweeeet.” Sehun pointed at the bench, and Luhan sat down again. “Now comes the fun part.”

For all that he wasn’t particularly scared of them, Luhan’s heart gave a little squeeze when Sehun tore open one of the packets and pulled out what seemed to him to be an unnecessarily long needle. He had to grip the edge of the bench, and he gritted his teeth as Sehun told him to breathe in, then breathe out-

And nothing happened.

“Aaand now let’s try that again without the barely-restrained panic. You wanna actually relax for me, dude?”

There was a chuckle from the other side of the room.

“Is he blushing? I bet he’s blushing.”

“Shut up!”

Minseok just laughed.

“One more time,” Sehun said. “Breathe in… Breathe out… there we go.”

“… Ow.”

“That’s one done,” Sehun said, threading the ball into the end of the stud. “We’re halfway there.”

The second stud was done in another twenty seconds, and Sehun stepped back to let Luhan see himself in the mirror as he gathered up the needles and dropped them in the sharps bin.

“Happy with that?”

Luhan hopped off the bench and stepped up to the mirror. In spite of the way his ear was beginning to turn bright red, he thought he looked pretty damn cool.

“Awesome,” he murmured.

“Good!” Sehun slapped him on the back. “I’m assuming you don’t need the aftercare talk. Soo can sell you some Studex if you need it.”

“Let me see,” Minseok said. Luhan turned around to face the tattoo bench, and Minseok whistled. “Yes, that’s my boy. You look great!”

Luhan couldn’t help beaming. Perhaps it had something to do with the words my boy. Perhaps it was also the fact that Minseok was shirtless and grinning at him like he wanted to eat him alive and savour every bite.

Tao paused his tattooing and wiped away the excess ink from Minseok’s back. Luhan wished he could see the design taking shape, but Tao was sitting between him and Minseok and Luhan didn’t want to cross the doorline and step into Tao’s space in case that was a violation of sacred tattoo etiquette or something. Instead he just hovered on Sehun’s side of the room, smiling back at Minseok.

“You can sit back down, you know,” Sehun said from the desk chair in the corner. “They’re gonna be a while.”

Luhan sat down on the bench, which Sehun had raised into a chair of sorts, and they chatted while Tao worked on Minseok. Soo periodically came to hover in the doorway, chipping into the conversation with quiet snark and dry wit.

Finally Tao gave Minseok’s skin a last wipe and sat back on his rolling stool.

“There we go,” he said. “I think you’re done.”

“Nice.” Minseok gave a thumbs-up. “Can I see?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tao stood up and grabbed his phone from the counter. “I’ll take a picture. Luhan, you wanna take one too?”

“Sure.” Luhan pulled his phone out of his pocket and stepped forward, then stopped when he saw the tattoo. “Wow.”

Minseok craned his neck to try and look over his shoulder. “Does it look good?”

“Yeah,” Luhan murmured. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Waves swirled into wind across Minseok’s lower back. The black ink was shaded in blue, highlighted with white, sea spray whipping into the breeze over his spine. Above the water a little man flew through the air, his face raised towards an invisible sun, arms outstretched to catch the wind. Luhan looked closer; the man had only one leg.

He snapped a couple of pictures, then passed his phone to Minseok so he could see.

“Oh shit,” Minseok said, “that’s fucking awesome, Tao.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty pleased with it,” Tao said. “That’s going on my Instagram for sure.” He put his phone down and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, then picked up a roll of Saniderm and began to measure it out against Minseok’s back.

“Don’t you dare name me in the post,” Minseok warned.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Tao assured him.

“Half the world thinks I’m dead and the rest think I’m hiding out in China or something,” Minseok muttered as Tao peeled off the paper and smoothed the plastic out over his skin. “I’m super happy with no-one knowing I still live in the city.”

“Yeah, you kind of disappeared for a few years there.” Tao watched as Minseok sat up and gently pulled his shirt back on. “You’re coming out of your cave now, though?”

If Luhan hadn’t been watching, he might have missed the way Minseok’s eyes flicked towards him.

“Not sure. We’ll see.”

“Alright, well,” Tao helped Minseok down off the table and steadied his wheelchair, somewhat unnecessarily, as Minseok lowered himself back into it, “don’t be a stranger, okay? You’ve still got some blank skin left, and I call dibs on it.”

Minseok laughed. “My body is yours. At some point soon I’ll get you to fix up the fucking mess on my leg, if you’re up to it.”

Tao’s eyes widened. “Oh dude, you mean-?” he gestured towards Shorty. “Oh my god, yes. Yes. I’ll design something awesome for you. Come talk to me about it, we’ll get some ideas going-” he seemed honoured, almost touched, at the idea of tattooing Shorty.

At the front counter, Minseok handed Tao his credit card.

“Well, that only took us two hours,” Tao said, “Let’s call it a hundred and fifty bucks.”

Minseok raised his eyebrows, his eyes pointedly wide.

“I want to pay you fairly for your time, man,” he said.

“I am getting paid fairly,” Tao shrugged. “By the guy who tried to haggle with me on a design I spent a week drawing and then cancelled with less than an hour’s notice. I am absolutely vindictive enough to put his money towards someone else’s piece.”

As he picked up the card reader, Minseok nodded towards Luhan.

“How much were Lu’s piercings?”

“Forty,” Sehun said.

“Put them on my card as well.”

Luhan frowned. “I can pay for them myself.”

“I owe you though,” Minseok said, and swiped his card through the machine.

How did Minseok owe him, Luhan wondered, thinking about late nights at the rink and hours of free coaching. Minseok seemed to consider the matter settled, though, and happily keyed in a forty percent tip for Tao.

“Typical,” Tao snorted as he pulled out the receipt and looked at the total. “Can’t just take the damn discount.”

Minseok beamed at him and rolled himself back from the counter.

“Thanks, Tao! I’ll come see you in a few weeks and we’ll talk designs for Shorty!”

Outside, Minseok loaded his wheelchair into the back of the van and hopped in behind the wheel.

“Holy fuck, this is uncomfortable,” he muttered the second time he glanced over his shoulder to change lanes. “I should have remembered what it’s like driving with a fresh back tattoo.”

Luhan grimaced. “Does it hurt?”

“I’ve just had a fuck load of ink carved into my skin and now it’s rubbing against the seat. What do you think?”

“Ouch.” Luhan squirmed sympathetically. “Is there anything you can do to make it hurt less?”

“Get home and take my shirt off,” Minseok smirked.

Sure enough, as soon as they were inside Minseok peeled off his shirt and threw it across the room.

“Freedom.”

“Oh jeez.” Luhan eyed the tattoo as Minseok leaned forward in his chair. “There’s a lot of blood under the wrapping stuff.”

“Yeah, that happens.” Minseok sat back, then winced and shuffled forward again. “Particularly with colour. The Saniderm keeps it all in so it can do its job. And it’s really kind of morbidly fun to wash off in the morning.” He stretched his arms over his head and started down the hallway. “You wanna come sit in my room? I’m gonna lie down.”

Minseok stretched out on his stomach and Luhan perched next to him on the edge of the single bed. Carefully avoiding the entire lower half of his back, Luhan traced a finger over Minseok’s other tattoos while they talked.

“So how was yesterday with Jongdae?”

Minseok turned his head to rest his cheek more comfortably against the pillow. “It was good. We hung out and talked for a bit. Went to the supermarket together.” Minseok closed his eyes. “I gotta start doing my own groceries. I need to learn how to push a cart from my chair.”

Luhan gave a little hum, nodding absently as he traced the outline of the wings on Minseok’s shoulder blades - not bird wings or angel wings, but butterfly wings, so delicately shaded as to be almost translucent against Minseok’s skin.

“And of course, he gave me a nice lecture about sleeping with someone seven years younger than me.”

Luhan’s hand faltered halfway down one wing. After a moment of stillness, Minseok opened one eye to squint up at him.

Luhan swallowed. “What did he say?”

Minseok snorted. “Exactly what you’d expect. You’re too young, blah blah, I need to let you find someone your own age, yadda yadda, you don’t need me and all my baggage, etc etc etc-”

“You don’t have baggage,” Luhan said, surprised.

“Everyone has baggage,” Minseok said. “Also, hello? I’m a moody, horny old amputee. I have a metric fucktonne of baggage.” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “Do you feel like I’m too old for you?”

“… No?”

“Cause I don’t. I mean.” Minseok gave a wry little smile. “I will admit. I didn’t realise you were quite that young.”

“How old did you think I was?”

Minseok shrugged. “I dunno, two or three years older. I figured you were about Jongdae’s age. You knew how old I was, yeah?”

“More or less.”

“Hm.” Minseok smirked. “Well, I don’t mind if you don’t. You just gotta put up with my senior moments.”

“Dude, you’re only twenty-eight.”

“Am I?” Minseok laughed. “I feel a lot older sometimes.”

They fell into silence as Luhan finished tracing the outline of Minseok’s wings. He moved on to the splash of watercolour falling back over Minseok’s shoulder, the edge of the explosion from Myeonggi’s whirl of colour.

“What did you do yesterday?” Minseok murmured.

“Went to the rink,” Luhan said. “I’m getting the hang of the 900. I landed it five times in a row, and I only fell on my face twice the whole day.”

“Awesome! You gotta show me that tonight.” There was another interlude of silence. Then Minseok, eyes still closed and face half buried in the pillow, said, “I’m proud of you, y’know. You’ve been working really hard.” He grinned. “I think you’re gonna absolutely crush it at East Xtreme.”

Luhan could feel the blush heating through his cheeks, but he managed to dig his voice out of his throat to murmur, “Thank you.”

Minseok just smiled and reached up to take Luhan’s hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze.

-

After dinner that night, as they were getting ready to leave for the rink, they hit a snag.

“Driving,” Minseok said.

“What?” Halfway into the van, Luhan turned to look at him.

“I really don’t want to rub my tattoo all over that seat again. My wheelchair’s bad enough.”

“Why don’t I drive?” Luhan offered. “You can sit more comfortably in the passenger seat.”

“I’m still gonna end up rubbing it on the seat,” Minseok wrinkled his nose. “Dammit. I might have to let you go on your own. Dammit! I was really hoping to see you land that 900.”

Luhan pursed his lips and considered for a second.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said.

“What is it?”

Minseok followed Luhan’s gaze and narrowed his eyes.

“You’re trying to give Yixing a heart attack, aren’t you?”

Sure enough, when Yixing came to the door of the warehouse and found Luhan cutting the power of Minseok’s huge bike, he shrieked and stumbled to the ground with one hand over his mouth.

“What the hell is this?”

“Hey, Xingy Xing!” Minseok pulled off his helmet and handed it to Luhan to lock onto the side of the bike. “Remember that time you rebuilt my bike for me? You did a good job! She runs well!”

“Does Luhan even have the right license for this??”

“Nope.” Luhan straightened up and held out his hand to help Minseok off the bike. Minseok slid to the ground and hopped to regain his balance, then paused. Blinked. Burst out laughing.

“Luhan, we didn’t think this through.”

“Huh?”

“My chair.” Minseok giggled. “I don’t have a chair here. Or crutches.”

Luhan snorted with laughter.

“Fuck, you’re right. I’m stupid.”

“I’m just gonna have to hop,” Minseok said.

“Nah.” Luhan hooked an arm around Minseok’s back and scooped him up off the ground. “This is easier.”

Minseok squeaked in surprise, but looped his arms around around Luhan’s neck. “Okay. That works too.”

“I’m through the looking glass,” Yixing whispered, still clutching his heart. “There are no rules in this universe.”

Luhan carried Minseok into the warehouse and set him down on the bleachers, then retrieved his bag from his locker and pulled his skates and pads on.

“Are you all good watching from there?”

Minseok tilted his head to the side to consider it.

“Actually. You know what I want to try?”

“What?” Luhan paused halfway over the barrier.

“Help me over.”

With Luhan’s hand to steady him, Minseok clambered over the barrier and began hopping across to the corner of the rink.

“Hey, do you think I could skate on one leg?” he joked. “I probably wouldn’t get very far… unless you wanna pull me along or something.” He laughed, cheerful and breathless from exertion.

“Where are you going?” Luhan said.

“Up here!” They had reached the back of the half-pipe. Minseok took a careful hold of the ladder and began to climb it, one hop at a time.

“Oh my god, really?” Luhan watched him climb for a few rungs. “You won’t go up the stairs, but you’ll do that?”

“Hey.” Minseok paused for breath. “With stairs, you have to go up and forward. On a ladder, you only have to go up. Besides, I can use my hands here. I’m much better with my hands.”

“You are pretty good with your hands,” Luhan muttered, and didn’t miss the sarcastic glare Minseok shot down at him.

“Okay!” Minseok settled himself at the top of the half-pipe, his leg swinging over the edge. From his perch he had a birdseye view of the whole rink, and he gestured out with one arm. “Have at it. Let me see what you’ve got.”

Luhan took off for a warmup lap around the rink, jumping and grinding and doing some simple flips on the lower ramps. Then, taking a run up the far side of the half-pipe, he turned and let himself fall. Down, up, past Minseok and into the air.

Minseok gave an excited whoop as Luhan spun above him.

“Good technique!” he yelled, as Luhan dropped back in and skated off around the edge of the rink. “I think you can get more air, try it again!”

On his next line, Luhan tried to build as much speed as possible before he hit the ramp. He thought about flying, about the dreams in which he soared above the cliffs - and then about real-life flying: the outdoor sessions where he and Baekhyun would try and jump from roof to roof; racing down the highway on Minseok’s bike with the wind whipping up under his helmet; jumping from a swing at the highest point of its arc.

“Nice!” Minseok cried. “That was a whole three feet higher!”

Luhan threw a thumbs-up over his shoulder and turned to grind back along the rail. As he glanced past the half-pipe towards the bleachers, he started in surprise. Yixing was sitting on a bench halfway up, his hand pressed over his mouth, tears streaming down his face. As Yixing sniffed and wiped his eyes, Luhan realised it was Minseok he was looking at, perched happily on top of the half-pipe and kicking his heel against the side like an excited child as he called instructions to Luhan.

Luhan averted his eyes and focused on his line, leaving Yixing to weep in private.

-

It was fairly common, over the next few days, for Luhan to turn up at Minseok’s house and find him shirtless, regardless of the weather. The fabric was awkward against his tattoo, he explained, and he didn’t want to get fluff and fibres in it while it was healing.

Four days post-tattoo, when Luhan rang the doorbell, he was alarmed to hear a clank from the kitchen in response. When Minseok opened the door he was alarmingly tall (and distractingly bare-chested), and it took Luhan a second to realise that he had abandoned his wheelchair in favour of crutches.

“Woah. What’s wrong?”

Minseok cocked his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Did your wheelchair break or something?”

“Oh.” Minseok glanced down at his crutches. “No, it just annoys the fuck out of my tattoo. It’s all tight and itchy, and I keep rubbing it against the backrest.”

Luhan pulled a face as he pushed the door shut behind him.

“Is there anything you can do about it? I’m guessing you’re not supposed to actually scratch it when it itches.”

“Nah. I’ve been icing it, and I should be able to moisturise it now, but I… can’t reach.” Minseok pressed his lips into a thin line, looking either pissed off or embarrassed - perhaps both, Luhan thought.

“You can’t reach?”

“I can’t reach the middle of my back,” Minseok grumbled. “And it’s itchy and sore, and I can’t actually do anything other than dangle an ice pack near it.”

Luhan blinked at him for a second, then sighed.

“Dude. Use your words. You have so many of them.”

He grabbed Minseok by the wrist and turned to drag him down the hallway.

“Ah! Walking!” Minseok scrambled to catch his weight on one crutch and tugged his other hand out of Luhan’s grasp. On crutches he was much faster than Luhan was used to, and easily kept pace with him all the way down the hall to his bedroom.

“Lie down.” Luhan pointed at the bed. “Where’s your moisturiser?”

“Here.” Minseok sat down and picked up the bottle from the bedside table.

“Lie down,” Luhan repeated, and waited until Minseok did before swinging a leg over him and gently settling himself on Minseok’s butt.

“Oh, are you gonna-” Minseok glanced over his shoulder at Luhan and nodded towards the bedside table. “Clean hands if you’re touching it.”

Luhan grabbed a wet wipe from the packet on the table and scrubbed it over his hands, then took the moisturiser and squirted a dollop into his palm.

“Is it gonna hurt you when I touch it?”

“Not unless you scrape at it or something.”

“Okay.” Luhan took a deep breath and tentatively touched his finger to the middle of the tattoo.

Minseok tensed, then sighed as Luhan smeared the moisturiser out across the ink.

“Is that alright?”

Minseok nodded. “It’s nice and cold.”

Luhan had never even seen, let alone touched, a fresh tattoo before. All the other ink on Minseok’s body was old and soft - it just felt like skin. Here, every line was firm and raised, uneven at the edges where it was beginning to peel. Luhan found it equal parts fascinating and disturbing.

“What does it mean?”

Minseok made a questioning noise.

“The design.” Luhan traced over the outline of the little man soaring above the waves. “You had it before, right? On your leg. Does it have a special meaning?”

For a moment Minseok did not answer. Luhan realised the question was perhaps too personal, and was about to apologise for asking when Minseok spoke.

“I dream about flying. Every night. I always have.” He closed his eyes. “Sometimes it’s through the city, or around my house, but normally… over the ocean. Through the waves. It’s like gravity doesn’t even apply to me.” A slow smile spread across his face. “It’s the best feeling in the world.”

Luhan gaped at him, his hands frozen on Minseok’s back.

“That’s why I took up skating,” Minseok continued. “Easiest way of flying. No wings needed.”

Me too, Luhan wanted to say, I’ve dreamt of flight every other night since I was twelve. It took me five years to find the skates to make it happen, and even now I still feel like maybe if I catch enough air I won’t have to come down.

“The original design had two legs, obviously,” Minseok added, then laughed. “I didn’t even tell Tao to draw it with just one this time. He just did it. Maybe he always knew it was supposed to be me.”

Luhan wiped the last of the moisturiser onto Minseok’s shoulders, then crawled off his butt and lay down beside him, pressed up against the wall in the small space. Minseok opened his eyes, and they just stared at each other for a minute.

“Hey,” Minseok whispered.

“Hey.”

“If I told you I’m not feeling sexy at all today and don’t want to get it on…” he paused, bit his lip, took a breath. “Would you still stay the night?”

Luhan nodded. “Of course.”

“Of course,” Minseok echoed. His eyes drifted shut, the edge of a smile playing in the corner of his mouth. “Awesome.”

-

Luhan had barely arrived at the rink and was still pulling his skates on when Baekhyun vaulted the railing in front of him.

“Dude! There you are!”

“Hey Baek!” Luhan looked up from his wrist guard. “What’s up?”

“Oh, not much. Just super astonished to see my best friend for the first time in about two weeks. Where have you been, man? You’re never at the rink anymore.”

“Yeah, I-” Luhan snapped his mouth shut, cheeks flaming. Yes, he had been at the rink nearly every day - at night, with Minseok, after everyone else had gone home and it was just Yixing keeping the books until midnight.

Baekhyun still had that sarcastic eyebrow going. Luhan shrugged, trying for nonchalant and ending up somewhere near awkward.

“I’ve been around.”

Baekhyun snorted. “Yeah, right. You used to spend even more time here than I did. This is the first time I’ve seen you since at least last Saturday.” He hoisted himself back over the railing beside Luhan. “Where do you go all day, Luhan? More to the point-” he swung in front of him, forcing Luhan to skid to a stop to avoid bowling him over, “- how have you gotten so good at those flips when you’re never here to practise?”

Luhan bit his lips shut and stared at Baekhyun while he tried to come up with a good answer. He couldn’t tell him the truth; Minseok had sworn him to secrecy, and he wasn’t about to blab, especially not to someone with lips as historically loose as Baekhyun’s. But Baekhyun was his best friend, and it hurt to lie to him.

“Luhan,” Baekhyun said, “what are you hiding from me?”

Half the truth, he decided. The innocent half, the half that Baekhyun wouldn’t be too hurt at having had kept from him.

“I’ve been practising at night,” he said, voice low as he drew Baekhyun in with a hand on his shoulder. “After everyone else has gone. So that I have the rink to myself and I can just go hard for a couple of hours without running over the little kids.”

Baekhyun looked taken aback. “How did you get that one past Yixing?”

“I…” Luhan shrugged. “I owe him,” he admitted. And that was true. “I owe him big time. He’s been letting me practise after dark on my own, and he hasn’t made me pay extra… I dunno how I’m gonna repay him. But it’s really been helping me. I think I’ve actually got a good shot at placing at East Xtreme. Maybe even winning.”

“Lu, that’s awesome. I mean, I dunno why you didn’t just tell me, but… That’s cool. You’re really dedicated, huh?” He fell into step beside Luhan as they set off around the edge of the rink. “So, hey, do you think maybe I could join you one of these evenings? I could use some extra practise too.”

Luhan froze. Fuck. There was no way he could bring Baekhyun along. Minseok had made it clear that he wasn’t to tell anyone about their coaching sessions. And if he asked Minseok not to come to the rink one night and he and Baekhyun skated alone, Baekhyun would want to join him the next time as well, and the next, and he would lose Minseok’s coaching entirely.

He must have hesitated a second too long; Baekhyun’s face fell.

“No, I get it,” he said. “You gotta focus on winning East Xtreme. You don’t want to help the competition.”

“Baek-”

“I get it, it’s fine.” Baekhyun turned abruptly and skated back around the rink. Luhan watched him intervene between Kris and Chanyeol, giving them each a sharp smack on the arm and pushing them apart with visible frustration. He realised he couldn’t remember the last time they had all gone for an outdoor skate together. He wondered whether it was just the fact that he had stopped suggesting it, or if they had stopped inviting him.

-

Baekhyun did not mention Luhan’s nighttime sessions again, but the issue hung thick in the air between them. Luhan tried not to care that Baekhyun was angry at him; yet not caring somehow hurt even more than caring, and by the end of the week he was sad and exhausted, half-heartedly feigning enthusiasm at the prospect of a three-hour session in the rink with Minseok.

“You’re quiet,” Minseok observed, when they were halfway down the highway and Luhan still hadn’t said a word.

“Mm.” Luhan stared out the window of the van and counted the streetlights as they flashed past.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

No, Luhan thought. Minseok did not say anything further, and when it became apparent that he was just going to let the silence sit until he got an answer, Luhan sighed.

“When you got serious about skating… did you find that you ended up losing your friends? That you had to push them away, or whatever?”

“No?” When Luhan turned his head, Minseok looked surprised. “Dude, no, the opposite. This is the point where you figure out who your friends are and keep them close.”

“… Oh.”

“Why?” Minseok frowned. “Did something happen?”

Luhan sighed.

“Baekhyun asked why I haven’t been at the rink so much.”

“Ah. What did you say?”

“I told him…” Luhan chewed his lip while he tried to predict whether Minseok would be angry at him for telling Baekhyun even this much. “I told him I’ve been practising in the rink late at night. By myself.”

“By yourself.” Minseok gave a little chuckle. “I’m sure he believed that.”

“Well, I think he did… but he asked if he could join me.”

“I see.”

“And I… well, I didn’t even tell him no. I just… didn’t know how…”

“You couldn’t bear to lie to him, but you also couldn’t tell him the truth.”

“Yeah.” Luhan slumped against the window.

For a minute there was silence save for the roar of the engine and the gentle whir of the AC. Minseok checked over his shoulder as he took the offramp, then glanced at Luhan.

“You should invite him to a practise.”

Luhan sat up. “Wait. What?”

“Look.” Minseok sighed. “I told you not to tell anyone I was coaching you because I didn’t want you spreading it around all your friends and destroying the seclusion I’ve spent three years protecting. It wasn’t meant to make you miserable like this.”

“I’m not miserable!” Luhan insisted. “It’s okay, I can keep it a secret, I’ll just-”

“Luhan. I’m not going to make you lie to your best friend. Okay? Bring him to a practise. Tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever.” He looked over at Luhan again, concerned now. “Luhan, I’m serious, hold onto your friends. You’re going to need them. I’m not saying don’t trust anyone you meet from here on out, but… the friends you have now? The ones who knew you when you were nobody? They’re the ones who will stick around when it all comes crashing down.”

As Minseok turned into the parking lot and cut the engine, Luhan tried not to dwell on the note of bitterness in his voice.

-

Luhan was pulling off his skates at the end of the night when Yixing strolled out of the office.

“Luhan.”

“What’s up?” Luhan pushed the sweaty hair out of his eyes and slammed his locker door shut.

“I was wondering if you might be able to talk to Baekhyun.”

Luhan’s mouth was halfway open to say, yes, I’m going to, I’ll clear things up between us, but Yixing appeared to be thinking along a different line.

“I don’t know what his situation is at the moment, if he’s in a bit of a tight spot or something, but this is the second month he hasn’t paid his membership.”

“Membership?” Minseok, adjusting the footrest of his wheelchair, jerked upright to frown at Yixing. “What do you mean, membership? Xingy, we said this place would always be free for kids to come skate. What the hell are you doing charging them?”

“Minseok…” Yixing suddenly seemed uncomfortable. “I know, I know we said that, but. Hosting competitions only pays so much. This place ran off your winnings. Without that, I’m barely keeping the lights on.”

“What?” Minseok looked horrified. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? I do still have money, you know.”

“No, dude. That’s- that’s yours, I can’t- I’m not gonna take your savings. We’re getting by, honestly, I don’t pay myself so I don’t have to charge them too much-”

Minseok’s frown only deepened. “If you’re not taking anything for yourself then how do you pay your rent?”

Yixing opened his mouth and seemed to struggle for a moment before swallowing hard and saying, “I don’t. I live here, Minseok.”

Luhan’s stomach fell through the floor as the world shifted. Late night practises, early morning sessions as the sun rose - Yixing didn’t stay late and arrive early, he was always there. Doing the books until the middle of the night, of course, he was trying to run the numbers in a way that made ends appear to meet.

And Luhan and Minseok were using the rink after hours for free. Luhan felt sick.

“Minseok, please.”

Minseok had turned and was wheeling himself towards the door.

“Minseok-” Yixing took a step after him.

“Let’s go, Luhan.”

Luhan glanced back at Yixing, who looked distraught. “Hey, Min-”

“I said, let’s go!”

Luhan gave Yixing an apologetic grimace and hurried after Minseok.

They spent the entire drive back to Minseok’s house in tense silence. Every time Luhan glanced over Minseok’s expression was more mutinous than before, and by the time they pulled into the garage he looked like he was about to explode.

Luhan got out of the car as meekly as he could, and waited for Minseok to slam the driver’s side door before closing his own.

Minseok wrenched his wheelchair out of the back and set it on the ground but did not sit down. Instead, with his hands braced on the armrests, he looked up at Luhan and said, “you need to leave.”

Luhan nodded and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from trembling as he took his bicycle from against the far wall and wheeled it towards the open door.

“Hey.” Minseok caught him by the arm on his way past. Luhan flinched and bit down harder on his lip, but Minseok just held him. Then he pulled, turned Luhan around and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.

“Go home,” he said, voice still brittle with barely-contained anger.

Luhan nodded again, then swung a leg over his bike and kicked off to freewheel down the drive. He did not pause at the gate, did not wait until the garage door had closed behind him, did not stop at the corner and look back at Minseok’s house. He pedalled hard in the direction of town and convinced himself that it was only the wind stinging his eyes.

-

The next morning, Luhan crunched some numbers. He counted up the hours he and Minseok had spent practising, budgeted at about twenty dollars an hour, then did the math and realised he could maybe afford half of that at a stretch. He cleaned out his bank account, tucked the resulting wad of bills into the inside pocket of his jacket, and made a mental note to get a damn job. Then he hopped back on his bike and headed for the rink.

When he arrived, he walked straight over to the corner office. Baekhyun was counting coins onto the counter, his brow furrowed in concentration as he dug into his pocket.

“Do you have fifty cents?” he said. Then he glanced up. “Oh. Hey.”

Luhan wished he were imagining the way Baekhyun’s face fell.

“Here.” Luhan fished a couple of coins out of his jeans and slid them onto the counter as Yixing came out of the back room.

“Hey, boys. How can I help?”

Luhan looked at Baekhyun, who looked back at him as if expecting Luhan to go first. When Luhan didn’t butt in, Baekhyun pushed his money across the counter towards Yixing.

“Cola?”

“Sure thing.” Yixing dropped the coins into the register without bothering to count them, then grabbed a can out of the fridge and passed it to Baekhyun. “Lu, you?”

Luhan hesitated and resisted the urge to glance at Baekhyun.

“Don’t worry, I’m going,” Baekhyun muttered. He cracked his soda open and turned to skate away in the direction of the bleachers.

“How are you doing today?” Yixing said. “Everything alright?”

Luhan pursed his lips and reached into his inside pocket for the wad of cash.

“Here,” he said, setting it down on the counter. “For the rink rental the nights we’ve been practising.”

Yixing looked down at the bills, but made no move to pick them up.

“I’m not going to take your money, Luhan.”

“But-”

“If I wanted you to pay for the space, I would have asked. Minseok organised those practise sessions at his discretion, and it’s up to him whether to charge for the rental. After all, it’s his rink too.”

Luhan opened his mouth to argue, but Yixing interrupted him.

“Come help me in here.” He indicated the wad of cash. “Put that away.”

Luhan folded the bills back into his pocket and followed Yixing into the back corner of the office, where Yixing grabbed two mugs off the kitchenette shelf and started spooning instant coffee into them.

“Luhan, you need to understand this,” he said, voice low and confidential. “Minseok and I have always been stupidly proud people. That’s how we had the balls to buy this warehouse in the first place.” He slid the coffee back onto the shelf and glanced over his shoulder at Luhan. “You know we built the rink ourselves?”

The surprise must have shown on Luhan’s face. Yixing nodded towards the huge roller doors at the front of the warehouse, open to the sun as always on a good day.

“It’s Minseok’s footprint in the concrete out front,” he said. “We basically gutted the building and rebuilt it from the ground up. It was a labour of love, you know?” He handed one of the mugs to Luhan. “Milk or sugar?”

“Nah.” Luhan wrapped his hands around the mug and waited for Yixing to continue. He was looking out over the counter at the rink, which was teeming with the usual morning crowd of skaters. In the near corner, Chanyeol was teaching a little girl how to stop without falling over. Kris and Baekhyun were doing flips on the half-pipe, taunting each other higher and higher as a small crowd of teenagers watched from the sidelines. The warehouse was buzzing with life, with triumphant landings and bruised knees and the scrape of wheels on rails.

“We were nineteen,” Yixing murmured. “And we thought we’d be the heart of the community.” He looked back at Luhan. “So being here like this, almost ten years later, and having kids who came here to try on their first pair of skates now winning the competitions? Sleeping in the back room seems like a really small price to pay for that.”

There was something in Yixing’s voice, in his eyes, that made Luhan choke up. You are the heart of the community, he wanted to say, for some of us you’re the centre of our entire worlds, we’d be nothing without you. He tried for a second to imagine a universe in which the rink did not exist, in which he did not wake up every morning knowing there was a place he belonged - a place where he could fall and fail and get back up and try again and push himself to greater heights alongside the best friends he’d ever had, all of whom were there for the pure love of the sport.

Yixing must have misinterpreted Luhan’s expression.

“Don’t mind Minseok.” He leaned in to fix Luhan with a serious look. “He’s just proud. He’s always been proud. And I think he’s had to force himself to forget that life goes on without him. It was just a bit jarring for him to remember that I’ve been managing on my own since he’s been gone.”

Luhan nodded and took a sip of his coffee. He was familiar with Minseok’s particular brand of vanity, the way he valued his legacy, his stubborn insistence on being generous with his time and money. It wasn’t hard to imagine the blow to his ego at finding out how things had changed at the rink in his absence.

“What did he say to you after you left last night?”

“Nothing.” Luhan shook his head. “He just told me to leave. I’ve never seen him that angry.” I’ve never really seen him angry at all.

Yixing looked taken aback. “Did he shout at you?”

“No. He just got kind of dangerously quiet.”

“Ah. Right. That’s not anger.” Yixing’s face twisted into something sympathetic. “Angry Minseok yells and throws things on the ground. He’s like the Hulk. You can hear him from half a block away. When he goes quiet like that, it means he’s trying not to cry.”

“… Oh.”

Yixing gave a little shrug as if to say, what can you do?

That little shrug made up Luhan’s mind, and he set his mug down on the bench. “Thanks for the coffee.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, which he handed to Yixing.

“Luhan, I said-”

“For Baekhyun’s membership,” Luhan insisted, shoving the money into Yixing’s hand. “Last month, this month, and next month.”

Yixing resisted for another second, then gave a resigned sort of laugh as he took the money. “You’re just like Minseok, you know that?”

“Yep.” Luhan raised his chin. “And Baekhyun is my Yixing, so…”

Yixing laughed again, a real grin on his face this time.

“Okay, fair point. Go on, then, go practise your flips.”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna head out.” Luhan clapped Yixing on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight, though, if that’s okay?”

“Absolutely.” Yixing nodded. “I’m always here.”

“I know.” Luhan grinned and turned to dash out of the office.

Halfway to the front door, he almost collided with Baekhyun.

“Baek, hey!” Luhan caught him by the elbow as he skidded to a stop.

“Lu-”

“Listen,” he interrupted. “I’m a shithead.” Baekhyun’s jaw dropped, but Luhan plowed on. “Skate with me tonight. Eight o’clock, be here. Just you. No-one else. You’ll see why.” He dragged Baekhyun into a hug, squeezing hard until Baekhyun gasped. “I’m sorry I’ve been keeping secrets from you, it was stupid, but you’re my best friend and I want to share this with you, so if you just come tonight-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.” Baekhyun looked bewildered, his hands coming up to hold Luhan’s elbows as if he were worried Luhan might talk himself breathless and faint from lack of oxygen. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I just- I gotta run. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t tell anyone about it!” He gave Baekhyun a last squeeze and sprinted out the door.

-

Minseok did not answer the door. Luhan rang the bell several times and knocked on the heavy wood hard enough to bruise his knuckles, but there was no response.

Perhaps Minseok had gone out. Maybe Jongdae had come and picked him up to go grocery shopping. Luhan sighed. He would have to go home and come back later. As a last thought he tested the door handle, and was shocked when it turned easily.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. He hesitated on the doorstep - he wasn’t sure if Minseok would appreciate him entering uninvited - but eventually reasoned that he spent enough time in Minseok’s house that it would probably be weirder if he didn’t go in.

“Hello? Minseok?”

He tiptoed down the hallway. The bedroom door was open, and he peered in to see if perhaps Minseok was asleep. But no. The room was empty, the bed haphazardly made and the blinds half-open.

Luhan was about to step back into the hallway when something caught his eye. The bedside table held its usual collection of odds and ends - headphones, moisturiser, reading glasses - but something was different. One of the photo frames was lying facedown on the table. Luhan took a tentative step closer. The remaining photo was of Minseok and Jongdae. Luhan did not need to pick up the facedown photo to know that it was of Yixing and Minseok in front of the rink.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped back into the hallway.

“Minseok?”

There was still no answer, but now, at this end of the hallway, Luhan could hear a faint noise - a rhythmic thudding coming from the far end of the house. When he stepped into the living room and looked out the French doors into the backyard, he found the source: Minseok, in his wheelchair, bouncing a basketball off the side of the house.

The door was ajar, and Luhan carefully slid it open. He did not speak, and Minseok did not look at him, just kept bouncing the ball off the same spot halfway up the wall.

“Five bucks says I end up damaging the paintwork,” Minseok said, when Luhan had observed half a dozen throws. “Ten bucks says I don’t care.”

Luhan opened his mouth but couldn’t find a response to that.

“Hey, fun fact,” Minseok continued, as if Luhan’s participation in the conversation were optional. “Did you know it’s only travelling if I touch my wheels more than twice?”

He took three more shots, then caught the ball and let it fall into his lap.

“You know what’s worse than feeling like you’re not needed?”

Luhan hoped it was a rhetorical question. Minseok made as if to raise the ball again, then dropped it back onto his thighs.

“Knowing that you are needed and not being able to provide.”

Minseok threw the ball at the wall again, harder this time - hard enough to send it flying over his head and across the yard. He glared at the wall, lips pinched shut.

Luhan felt helpless. Minseok didn’t even look angry now, just bone deep sad, and Luhan didn’t know what to do.

Cautiously he stepped out onto the concrete and picked his way over to Minseok. Minseok did not look at him, but nor did he avoid his gaze when Luhan stopped in front of his chair and bent down.

Luhan took Minseok’s face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over Minseok’s cheekbones, let his fingers slide either side of his ears to tilt his face upwards. When Minseok didn’t frown or pull away, Luhan leaned forward and kissed him.

He didn’t want to say it’s okay, because it wasn’t. He didn’t want to say we can figure it out, because maybe they couldn’t.

Instead, he said, “Do you want coffee?”

Minseok closed his eyes. Gave the tiniest huff of a laugh. Nodded in Luhan’s hands.

“Sure,” he said. “Coffee sounds good.”

They went inside, and Luhan turned on the coffee machine. He’d watched Minseok do this enough times that he thought he had a pretty good idea of how to do it. Grinder on, machine warming up, milk out of the fridge, two clean cups off the shelf. He picked up the portafilter and slid it under the spout of the grinder. There was a lever somewhere that dropped the coffee into the filter…

“On the side,” Minseok offered from where he was hoisting himself up onto a barstool. “Pull it three or four times.”

Luhan found the lever and flicked it back and forth until the portafilter was full.

“Tamp it,” Minseok said. “On top of the machine… no, to the right… yep, that thing.”

Minseok talked him through tamping the shot, loading it into the machine, and drawing it into the cup. When he came to steam the milk, though, things went a bit sideways.

Luhan had never observed this part too closely. He’d measured the milk into the metal jug enough times, but he’d never noticed how Minseok steamed it other than “hold it still and maybe go up and down a few times?” As it turned out, it was a bit more complicated than that.

“Ah! Minseok, how-” Luhan tried to take the jug out from under the wand, but that just made it spray more, milk flicking up into his face.

“Bring it up!” Minseok called. “Make sure the wand’s fully in- ah, fuck it.” He slid off his stool and hopped around the counter to help.

“How do you do it without it going everywhere?”

“Like this.” Minseok guided Luhan’s hands to tilt the jug, holding it at just the right height. “You want to get the milk spinning, get some air into it. Just enough to bulk it up, not so much that it goes all bubbly. There’s an art to it.”

Luhan sighed. “What would I do without you?”

“Drink water.” Minseok grinned up at him as he switched the machine off.

They took their coffee into the living room and drank it on the couch, looking out the open French doors at the sunlit yard.

“Ugh.” Luhan grimaced down at his cup. “This is terrible.”

“Mine’s not too bad. It’s pretty good, actually, for a first try.” Minseok leaned over and motioned for a sip of Luhan’s coffee. “Oh. Yeah. That’s way over-extracted.” He took the cup out of Luhan’s hands and passed him his own. “I’ll swap you.”

“Dude-”

“I like it stronger anyway,” Minseok shrugged. He raised the cup to his lips and took a gulp, then beamed at Luhan as if to prove that the coffee was drinkable.

“Moustache,” Luhan pointed out.

“Mhm.” Minseok licked the foam off his top lip. “The best kind.”

“The only kind,” Luhan teased.

Minseok snorted. “You’re one to talk, peach fuzz.”

“At least I can actually grow facial hair.”

“Yeah, but should you?”

“Ouch. Ouch.”

Minseok laughed at him, chuckling into his coffee as Luhan feigned heartbreak.

“You’ve got some too, you know,” Minseok said, tapping his lip. Luhan wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, but Minseok shook his head. “Nah, still there. Here-” he licked his finger and reached out.

“Ew, dude, I don’t want your spit on my face.”

Minseok squinted at him. “You will literally have my actual mouth on your mouth, but as soon as it’s on my finger then nooo, it’s gross.”

“It’s… different.”

“Okay then.” Minseok set his cup down on the end table and shuffled closer to grab Luhan’s face and lick the coffee off his lip. “Is that better?”

“Blech.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Minseok kissed him, mouth deliberately open against Luhan’s lips, then sat back and raised an eyebrow. “How is that any different?”

Instead of replying, Luhan pulled him back in. Minseok gave an exasperated sigh, which Luhan sucked into his mouth along with Minseok’s bottom lip.

“Mm-” Minseok’s breath gave a little hitch as Luhan began nibbling on his lip. “Is this your ‘cheer up Minseok’ strategy? Coffee and making out?”

Luhan broke away and let his nose trail back and forth along Minseok’s cheekbone. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Minseok turned his head to meet Luhan’s mouth again, whispering into his lips. “Give it a minute and we’ll see.”

It was impossible to kiss like that for very long before it turned into more. When Minseok’s hands began to wander across Luhan’s hips, tucking into the small of his back and pulling him closer by inches, Luhan decided he could fairly easily predict how they were going to be spending the afternoon.

“Mmm- hey-” Minseok paused, his hands under Luhan’s shirt to caress the side of his ribs. “Lu.”

“Yeah?” Luhan nipped another kiss from Minseok’s lips.

“I gotta ask, because- man, I wanna- I- fuck.” Minseok cupped a hand around Luhan’s cheek as if the flush there were derailing his train of thought. “I’m not sure how you feel about things that are… a little bit degrading.”

Luhan blinked at him. That was unexpected.

“Um. Okay? I guess?”

“Cause I…” Minseok’s eyes seemed drawn to Luhan’s bottom lip, stuck out in a little shrug. He traced over it, rolling it under his thumb. “I want to fuck your mouth. I want to come on your face.”

Oh fuck. Luhan wished he could explain why that instantly gave him the most painful erection of his life.

“Yeah,” he groaned. “Yeah, shit.” He could already feel his breath coming faster against Minseok’s thumb, and he let his tongue come forward to taste his skin, his lips wrapping around it and gently sucking.

“Jesus,” Minseok whispered. His other hand squeezed Luhan’s waist, then dropped to the front of his own pants. “Fuck. On your knees.”

Luhan scrambled off the couch and dropped to the floor in front of Minseok, who had unbuttoned his pants and was wriggling out of them. Luhan tugged them the rest of the way off his leg, closely followed by his briefs, and settled in between Minseok’s thighs as he shuffled forward on the couch.

“Oh shit,” Minseok muttered. “Look at you. So fucking eager for my cock.” He stroked himself a few times, his other hand cupping around the back of Luhan’s head. “Let me see what that mouth can do.”

Luhan parted his lips and let Minseok pull him forward. He licked over the head of Minseok’s cock, tongue swirling around to taste him. Minseok groaned and tightened his hold on the back of Luhan’s neck.

“Yeah, fuck-” he thumbed Luhan’s mouth open and guided the tip of his cock inside. Luhan let his eyes flutter closed, and Minseok groaned again. “Oh shit, that’s what I fuckin’ wanna see. Yeah.” He began to thrust, shallowly at first, just the head of his cock moving past Luhan’s lips.

Luhan breathed deeply through his nose as Minseok’s thrusts began to deepen, pushing past his tongue towards the back of his throat. He grabbed at Minseok’s thighs, squeezing the end of Shorty as Minseok thrust into his throat with a moan.

“Luhan- holy shit, you’re so good, you look so good, take my cock like that-”

Luhan swallowed, and Minseok’s whole body quivered. His hand wound more firmly into Luhan’s hair, pulling him forward as he thrust in, rougher, deeper, until Luhan gave up all control and let Minseok drag him where he wanted him to be.

“Yeah- yeah, Lu, fuck, I’m close.” Minseok’s hips snapped forward a few more times, rough and erratic, and then he pulled out, still holding Luhan by his hair as he began to jerk himself.

“Oh shit, Lu-”

Luhan squeezed his eyes shut as Minseok came with a moan. Hot come striped his face from his eyebrows to his chin, running down his nose and dripping into his open mouth.

For a moment there was just the sound of ragged breath as Minseok stroked the last few drops out of himself. Then the hand disappeared from Luhan’s hair.

“Oh my god. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Minseok swiped a thumb over Luhan’s eyelid, and Luhan cautiously opened his eyes. Minseok was flushed and panting, staring down at Luhan as if he were the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He bent forward and kissed the come from Luhan’s mouth, sucking each lip into his mouth and licking it clean.

The way Minseok touched him was caring, appreciative, and Luhan’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. People had done this to him before, but it had never been like this. He didn’t feel dirty or used; he felt sexy and worthy. Not degraded, but desired.

“You’re so beautiful,” Minseok was whispering. “So beautiful, so good for me, fuck, I lo- god, Luhan-” he dragged Luhan up onto the couch and pushed him back on the cushions. “Such a good boy. I’m gonna make you feel so good, darling, so nice-”

Luhan let out the breath of a moan as Minseok unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his knees. He lifted his head off the couch to watch Minseok take his cock in hand and give it a few firm strokes before ducking his head to lick a stripe up the side.

“Shit…”

Minseok gave him an indulgent little smile and began to suck delicately at the head, his tongue playing over the frenulum until Luhan whined and rolled his hips up.

“I love it when you get impatient,” Minseok muttered. Without further ado, he opened his mouth and sank all the way down onto Luhan’s cock.

“Oh f- fuck-”

Minseok hummed, and Luhan moaned as the vibrations shivered out through his hips. Minseok hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about how much his mouth could take. His tiny lips were stretched around the base of Luhan’s cock, his eyes closed as he breathed in through his nose. After a moment he slowly pulled back off, his tongue pressed to the underneath in a way that made Luhan’s eyes unfocus.

“Oh m- oh my god- Min-”

“I told you I’m good at this,” Minseok whispered. He returned to sucking the head as his hand began to pump up and down the shaft, sliding and twisting and pulling Luhan towards the edge.

Luhan normally prided himself a little bit on his stamina. When he wanted to, he could go for hours. With Minseok’s fingers creeping back behind his balls, though, he could feel his control beginning to strain a little bit.

“Minseok- I’m gonna come soon.”

Minseok looked up at him, and if his lips hadn’t been otherwise occupied Luhan thought he might have been smirking. His fingers traced in gentle circles over the skin behind Luhan’s balls, and for a moment Luhan thought Minseok was about to try and stick one up his ass - but then Minseok pressed into the skin, and Luhan cried out.

“Holy shit-”

Minseok gave a pleased hum and pushed again, massaging that spot until Luhan shuddered and came with a shout. He curled forward, hips jerking, chasing the heat of Minseok’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Luhan breathed, head spinning as he collapsed back against the couch. After a second he pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Minseok - Minseok, who had a trickle of come running down his chin, lips squeezed shut, cheeks bulging, eyes twinkling.

Minseok held Luhan’s gaze and swallowed.

“Fuck,” Luhan repeated. Minseok licked the trail of come off his chin and swallowed that too, then crawled lop-sidedly up the couch into Luhan’s arms.

“You taste good,” he murmured as he snuggled into Luhan’s chest.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Minseok nodded. “I dunno. It always tastes better when you actually like someone.”

Luhan laughed, a bit breathlessly. “Good to know you like me.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Minseok lifted his head and kissed him, soft and lazy. He brushed his nose against Luhan’s and opened his mouth, took a breath - then closed it again, cleared his throat, pecked another kiss to Luhan’s lips and snuggled back into his collarbone.

“What’s up?”

Minseok shook his head. “Nothing. I’ll tell you later.”

Luhan blinked down at him. “… Okay?”

Minseok kissed his neck, and Luhan felt him smile against his skin.

“I’m just really glad I get to do this with you.”

“Me too.” Luhan nuzzled into Minseok’s hair.

There was a moment of silence.

Then-

“Did you just wipe come on my hair?”

“Dude, it’s your come.”

“That’s fucking gross.”

“You will literally have my actual dick in your mouth, but as soon as it’s on my face then nooo, it’s-”

“Oh my fucking god, Luhan-”

Words turned into laughter, and laughter turned into kisses, and by the time Luhan carried Minseok into the bathroom to clean up they were a little more sweaty and a lot more naked.

-

Luhan did not instantly pull on his skates and jump onto the ramps when they arrived at the rink that night. Instead he sat in the bleachers, his hands folded between his knees, foot jiggling out a nervous rhythm. Over the general hum of the rink he could hear Minseok and Yixing in the office, talking about costs and overheads and whether Yixing was eating properly with just this tiny little kitchenette to cook in.

It was while Minseok was querying Yixing’s vitamin D intake that the door swung open and Baekhyun slipped into the warehouse. Luhan jumped up to greet him.

“Hey. Baek.”

“Yo, Luhan!” Baekhyun appeared to be in a good mood, giving Luhan a little salute as he dropped his bag on the bench and unzipped it to pull out his skates. “You ready to get started?”

“Uh. Just a second.” Luhan took a deep breath and tried not to wring his hands together. “First I need to tell you - you know how you said I should get a coach?”

“Yeah, man.” Baekhyun looked up from his skates. “Did you manage to find someone?”

Luhan bit his lip and nodded. “Um, yeah, I actually-”

“Hi there.”

Luhan jumped and turned around to see Minseok right behind him, one gloved hand lifting from his wheel to hold out in Baekhyun’s direction.

“You must be Byun Baekhyun. I’m Kim Minseok. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Luhan didn’t think he’d ever seen Baekhyun speechless before. His hand was visibly limp as Minseok shook it, and all the blood appeared to have drained from his face.

“Do you wanna show me what you’ve got?” Minseok continued. “I’ve seen your videos, but I’d love to see the real thing.”

The noise Baekhyun made sounded like a hedgehog being trodden on. He gave a trembling little nod and stumbled over to the barrier.

As Baekhyun tripped into the rink, Minseok leaned over to nudge Luhan in the hip.

“You didn’t give him any warning, did you?” he muttered out the side of his mouth.

“No, I did not.”

Minseok chuckled. “You’re terrible.”

“I think you broke him,” Luhan said. “He’s forgotten how to skate.”

Minseok clicked his fingers. “Aw yes, still got it.”

Luhan stifled his laughter into the back of his hand.

Watching Minseok critique a session was rather different from being on the receiving end of it. Luhan sat next to Minseok while he watched Baekhyun, and he found that behind the finger tracing across Minseok’s chin was a steady stream of muttered notes. Where Luhan saw an averagely well-executed jump, Minseok saw “feet could be tucked up better”, “curling forward too much”, and “good landing, but what are those hands doing?”

When Baekhyun finally stopped in front of them at the railing, trying not to look like he was struggling for breath, Minseok rolled forward to meet him with his elbows on the barrier.

“Okay, do you wanna know what I thought?”

Baekhyun nodded, but his hands were twisting together and he still had that hedgehog look about him. Luhan recognised this purgatory - it was the same feeling he’d had the first time Minseok had watched him skate, when he hadn’t been sure whether he was about to be praised or criticised.

“Your technique is really good,” Minseok said. “You have a great awareness of what your body is doing.”

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun wheezed. “Oh my god, thank you.”

“What I think you need to work on is hitting everything really crisply, you know? Like instead of kind of sliding into a pose and then sliding back out of it, hit it hard and hold it until you can snap into the next one. That’ll make your spins in particular look even better.”

Baekhyun nodded hard, his hair flopping into his eyes. “Yeah, absolutely, oh my god thank you-”

“Overall, though, you’re doing really good stuff. I’m keen to see where you go from here.” Minseok smiled at Baekhyun, then slapped Luhan’s ass. “Get in there.”

As Luhan climbed over the barrier and set off around the edge of the rink, Baekhyun drew alongside him.

“He just smacked your butt!” he hissed in Luhan’s ear.

He’s done a lot more than that to it, Luhan thought, but he just nodded, hoping his cheeks weren’t too red.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me that Kim Minseok was your coach?” Baekhyun continued.

“He told me to keep it a secret. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“No, no, of course not.” Baekhyun shook his head emphatically. “Is he… missing a leg?”

“Yeah.”

Baekhyun grimaced. “What do you think happened?”

Luhan hummed noncommittally and jumped up to grind along the rail. “You’d have to ask him that,” he said, knowing full well that Baekhyun wouldn’t.

“Yeah, I guess.” Baekhyun broke off to take a run at the ramp into a roughneck spin. He waited until Luhan was beside him again before saying, “well, I guess now we know why he retired.”

Luhan just nodded and peeled away from Baekhyun towards the half-pipe. It was obvious why Minseok had retired. What concerned Luhan was how he was going to maintain that carefully-crafted seclusion if Luhan was constantly dragging him back into the spotlight.

-

East Xtreme was fast approaching. Luhan spent his days at the rink, drilling flips and spins until he thought he could do them in his sleep. He was still wiping out occasionally on the 900, either under- or over-rotating so that he landed sideways and came down in a sprawling heap on the ramp. Each time he would pick himself back up with a scowl, dust off his bruised backside, and begin another lap around the rink.

His evenings were spent with Minseok, either back at the rink for more intensive coaching or else curled together on the couch, eating dinner and watching movies and losing track of the plot halfway through when they inevitably became much more interested in each other. Luhan was spending more and more of his nights at Minseok’s house, to the point that his mother stopped texting him each evening to ask if he’d be coming home. There was something both comfortable and thrilling about existing in Minseok’s space, like the whole world was simultaneously awaiting his discovery and sitting in the palm of his hand.

Several times Luhan found himself wanting to phrase this feeling as love - in the early mornings when he would wake up with his face pressed to Minseok’s shoulder, or over lunch when Minseok would lean over to kiss the coffee from his lips, or when they were driving home from an evening practise, exhausted and drained, and Minseok would break the silence to tell Luhan how hard he was working and how proud of him he was.

It was in these moments that Luhan locked up his tongue. He clamped his mouth shut, pressed the feeling down, and held it there until he was sure it wouldn’t tumble from his lips uninvited. This was not love. This could not be love. This was hero-worship taken to an unrealistic extreme, to the point where Luhan could close his eyes and almost let himself believe that it was more. He could not be falling in love with Minseok, because there was no way that Minseok would ever fall in love with him. Not with a boy - barely a man - seven years younger than him, with all the naivete of that youth. Minseok had seen so much more of the world, of life, and the most responsibility Luhan had ever had was a couple of summers spent flipping burgers.

Perhaps Minseok had noticed Luhan’s emotional dilemma, because he seemed to be growing a little distant. Often these days Luhan would arrive at Minseok’s house to find he wasn’t there, and would end up sitting on the doorstep to wait for him to get home. Minseok would turn up eventually, and when asked would simply say he had been running errands. He would offer no further details, but he always greeted Luhan with a smile and a kiss, so Luhan assumed the errands were a good thing. Nevertheless, it was difficult to shake the feeling that there was something Minseok wasn’t telling him - and even more difficult to reconcile the fact that he really had no right to ask.

Luhan felt frustrated. There was no-one he could talk to about his feelings for Minseok, or the doubts he had about Minseok’s feelings towards him. The only people who were aware he even knew Minseok were Yixing and Baekhyun, and neither of them had any idea that the relationship went beyond coaching.

Or- no. Wait.

There was someone.

He just needed an excuse to see them.

-

The smell of apple and antiseptic was not quite familiar, but still oddly comforting. As the door swung closed behind him, Luhan took a second just to bask in the cool air conditioning and the wall-to-wall snark of Street Inc.

At the counter, Tao was serving a young man with dark hair. He directed him towards the credit card reader and glanced up towards the door, where his eyes met Luhan’s. With a nod of greeting, Tao flicked his eyes towards his customer and gave half a surreptitious grimace. Luhan nodded and stepped to the side to wait.

“Alright,” Tao said, tearing off the receipt and offering it to the young man. “There you go. So yeah, look after it and hopefully you won’t have to make the trip again just for a touch-up.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” The man waved away the receipt and gave Tao a little salute. “Thank you.”

As he turned away from the counter, Luhan felt a shock of recognition. He knew this man. Straight, precise features, thick eyebrows, hair brushed back from an admittedly impressive forehead - it took Luhan a second to place him, and when he did, his stomach dropped. It was the vlogger who had made that video detailing the conspiracy theories around Minseok’s disappearance: Suho91.

Luhan waited until he was out the door before stepping up to the counter.

“Holy shit,” he began.

“Fuck that guy,” Tao muttered, crumpling up the receipt and dropping it in the bin. “I don’t like to badmouth customers, but fuck that guy.” He turned to grab two Red Bulls from the minifridge and handed one to Luhan, then cracked open the other and downed half of it in one mouthful.

“What happened?”

“So he apparently drove three hours to get here, right? And I’m thinking great, that’s awesome, clearly he really loves my work and went out of his way because he wants me to tattoo him, this is such a compliment. Then I find out no, it’s nothing to do with my actual art, he just found out I used to tattoo Minseok and wanted to see if I knew any gossip about what might have happened to him.”

“Oh my god.” Luhan was disappointed, but not surprised. “What did you tell him?”

“Fucking nothing.” Tao scowled. “I said I did a couple pieces for him a few years ago, and I changed the damn subject. All five times he brought it up.”

“Wow.”

“Yup!” Tao rolled his shoulders back as if trying to shake off his anger. “Just a Grade A douchebag, really.”

“I hope you screwed up his tattoo.”

“I wish I had that little integrity.” Tao sighed. “Nah, my reputation’s not worth him. But the design - not my art, mind you - was a super tacky skateboard all along the side of his foot, so I wish him luck with that three-hour drive home.” He smirked and took another, more measured, sip of his drink. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

Luhan leaned forward over the counter. “I need your advice. And some ink.”

-

Hiding a fresh tattoo turned out to be easier than Luhan had expected. Being as he was content to skate in a flannel shirt and jeans, Luhan was fairly used to keeping all his skin covered in the rink, and with East Xtreme less than two weeks away and every available second devoted to practise he and Minseok weren’t really finding much time to get naked. On the nights that Luhan stayed at Minseok’s house he would often collapse into bed fully clothed, asleep before Minseok had even crawled in beside him.

Regarding his situation with Minseok, Luhan decided to take Tao’s advice and play it cool. Minseok seemed to like him, so what difference did it make whether it was love? There was definitely a certain degree of affection between them, not to mention passion, and pushing Minseok to accept any deeper feelings Luhan had would inevitably do more harm than good. Better to just take it as it came rather than trying to force it.

Besides, Tao had added, Minseok kept his emotions pretty well locked up. Who knew what he was feeling?

And that was true, Luhan thought. He would simply have to wait and see.

-

On one hand, piling into Chanyeol’s car at six in the morning felt a lot like every other road trip they’d taken together. Luhan snoozed on Kris’s shoulder in the back seat while Baekhyun sat up front to navigate for Chanyeol, and they stopped at a roadside diner for breakfast when Kris’s stomach growled loudly enough to wake him up.

On the other hand, at the other end of that journey awaited the most important competition of his life so far, and Luhan was terrified.

The building seemed bigger and more intimidating than it ever had before. Perhaps that was because this was the first year he’d ever had the guts to do more than spectate. Luhan looked up at the front of the stadium complex, with its giant banner announcing that this was inescapably East Xtreme, and felt like he might be sick.

“We should have come up last night for the practise,” he murmured, cold down to his shoes in the morning sun.

“Fuck that gas money,” Baekhyun said as he clapped him on the back. “C’mon, Lu, we’ve been here before, you know what the rink looks like! You’ll be fine.”

Check-in passed in a blur - registrations for Luhan, Baekhyun, and Kris, and a spectator’s ticket for Chanyeol, who had decided not to compete.

“Oh, they’ve got a juniors category this year!” Baekhyun said, looking at the programme. “That’s cool, I wish they’d had that when we were younger.”

Perfect, Luhan thought. Ten-year-olds who could skate better than him.

“Yo, dude.” Baekhyun stepped in front of Luhan and gave him a little shake by the shoulders. “You’ve got this. You’ve been practising harder than any of us. If Kris of all people thinks he’s got a shot, then you have nothing to worry about!”

“I fucking resent that,” Kris muttered.

“Besides,” Baekhyun added quietly. “Look who you’ve got on your side.”

“Yeah!” Chanyeol clapped Luhan on the back, completely oblivious to the fact that Baekhyun wasn’t talking about him.

Luhan blew out a breath between pursed lips and gave a shaky nod. Perhaps Baekhyun was right. If Minseok believed in him, then maybe that meant he really could do it.

“Come on.” Baekhyun took Luhan by the hand and laced their fingers together. “Let’s get good seats.”

They found a spot up high in the stands, where they would have a perfect view of all the action. Luhan looked down at the rink and imagined himself on that half-pipe in a few hours’ time. He suddenly felt dizzy, and began to unbutton his flannel shirt for some air, then stopped himself with a jerk. No. Not yet.

“Hey.” Chanyeol sat forward and pointed down the stands. “Is that Yixing?”

“What? No way.” Baekhyun squinted. “Holy shit, it is!” Without another word, he jumped over the seat in front of him and tore away down the steps.

“Watch my stuff!” Chanyeol yelled as he sprinted after him.

“Watch our stuff,” Kris ordered the two teenage girls next to them, whom Luhan vaguely recognised from the rink.

“Thanks!” Luhan called to them as he turned to race after Kris.

“Xingy!” Baekhyun barrelled into Yixing where he stood chatting with a couple of skateboarders. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I didn’t expect to see you this weekend!” Chanyeol cried, flinging an arm around Yixing’s neck in an affectionate headlock.

Yixing grinned, amusement dimpling into one cheek. He pushed Chanyeol off and shoved good-naturedly at his shoulder. “I came with a friend.”

If Luhan had blinked, he would have missed the way Yixing’s eyes flicked towards him. The glance almost seemed casual, with the way Yixing was smiling at Chanyeol, but a second later his eyes slid back towards Luhan - and there was that dimple again.

No way. No way.

“What about the rink?” Kris said. “Is it closed? On a day other than Christmas??”

“No, I trust the kids not to burn it down,” Yixing smiled.

Luhan realised he was still gaping at Yixing, and he shut his mouth with an effort. There was no doubt in his mind which friend Yixing had come to the competition with - and yet he still struggled to believe it. Luhan had wished so badly that he could come, but this was a huge public event, not to mention in the skating community, and there was no way Minseok would-

“Besides,” Yixing said. “With you guys skating?” he looked at Luhan again, and this time held his gaze. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Luhan swallowed the lump in his throat and tried not to look like he was about to cry. Had Yixing really brought Minseok to watch him compete? He glanced around, but he couldn’t see anyone in a wheelchair. That was fair, though - Minseok was probably hiding in a corner somewhere where he wouldn’t be noticed.

The suspense of it was too much to take on top of his existing nerves, and as they found their seats again Luhan couldn’t help but pull out his phone.

To: Minseok
are u really here???

The response was almost instantaneous.

From: Minseok
;P

With a breath of relief, Luhan took that as a yes.

To: Minseok
where are u? i can’t see u

From: Minseok
good. i’m hiding.

To: Minseok
okay, that’s cool

To: Minseok
how exactly do you hide a one-legged celebrity in a room full of athletes?

From: Minseok
i’m not a celebrity

From: Minseok
also shut up.

Luhan laughed and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He looked around the stands again, but there was still no sign of Minseok. On the off-chance that Minseok might be able to see him, he blew a kiss to the air.

“What are you doing?” Kris was side-eyeing him.

“Uh. Just for good luck.”

“Oh. Cool.” Kris shrugged and blew a kiss of his own.

Luhan kind of hoped Minseok was watching, just so he could have a little laugh at that.

Knowing that Minseok was there to cheer him on eased Luhan’s nerves a little, but as the day’s programme began he found them beginning to mount again. All through the skateboarding and BMX events he was on the edge of his seat, and by the time the junior inline skaters had finished their event his heart was back in his throat.

This was not improved by seeing the order of competitors.

“Oh, come on!” Luhan turned and smacked his forehead into Kris’s shoulder. “As if the whole day wasn’t long enough to wait.”

“Last skater in the last event.” Kris patted his head sympathetically. “That’s rough.”

“At least you know what you have to beat,” Baekhyun said. “I’m first.”

“I’m tenth,” Kris said. “So I’m only two before you, Lu. I feel your pain.”

“Okay, well, wish me luck.” Baekhyun squared his shoulders and picked up his bag. “Who promises to buy me beer if I don’t fall on my face?”

“I’ll buy you anything you want if we all survive this,” Luhan said. He patted Baekhyun on the back as he departed with the first lot of skaters, then followed Kris back to their seats to watch.

Baekhyun proceeded to set the standard. His tricks were nothing flashy, but every single one of them was perfectly executed, each pose hit and snapped out of just as Minseok had instructed.

If nothing else went right today, Luhan thought, at the very least they could be proud of Baekhyun.

It was halfway through the ninth competitor that Luhan spotted Minseok sitting over the far side of the rink, beside the stands in an alcove leading to a fire exit. Wrapped up in a hoodie with a blanket over his lap, his face hidden by a mask under his sunglasses and baseball cap, Luhan couldn’t be sure it was him - but then, that was the point. Minseok had been careful to cover every identifying tattoo; he was even wearing his fingerless gloves, the ones he used when going out for walks. Sitting motionless in his wheelchair in the shadows, he was practically invisible. If Luhan hadn’t been looking for him, his eyes would have just slid right past.

Standing rinkside as the ninth skater came off, Luhan gave Kris a bro hug.

“Go hard, dude,” he murmured. “This is it.”

“Thanks.” Kris gave Luhan’s hand a final squeeze and stepped into the rink.

It took Kris all of three flips to wipe out. He overshot a jump and came down on the edge of the ramp, tumbling down and landing on his side on the concrete. Luhan swore and took an aborted step forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. There had been an ominous crack when Kris landed, and Luhan wasn’t sure whether it had been from the ramp or Kris’s arm.

After a second Kris pushed himself up to his knees. He was breathing hard, but didn’t seem to be in too much pain as he stood to the encouraging cheers of the crowd. He paused for a moment to make sure his pads were still on, then took off again, slower at first before building up speed for the next grind. While he did not attempt any more flips, he did manage a spin, and finished with his usual flourish.

When Kris came off at the side of the rink, Chanyeol was waiting beside Luhan to wrap him up in a big bear hug.

“Good job, buddy,” he said. “You did really well.”

“I think my wrist might be broken,” Kris replied.

“Oh, shit.”

Luhan had to let Chanyeol take Kris to the medics on his own. The eleventh skater was already two flips in, and Luhan was deeply regretting being there to see her. Nothing like watching someone who was intimidatingly good to psych you up for your own performance.

Luhan tried to find something to critique about her, tried to see her through Minseok’s eyes. She was definitely energetic, throwing herself into every spin with the kind of reckless enthusiasm that could only come with supreme confidence. Luhan couldn’t tell if her landings were actually sloppy, or if she was just moving too fast to touch the ground.

When she finished to deafening applause, Luhan took a last sip of his water and squared up to enter the rink. Okay. Moment of truth.

She offered him a high-five as she stepped out of the rink. “Good luck, dude!”

“Thanks.” Luhan tried to hoist some cockiness back into his smile and accepted her disconcertingly strong bro hug.

He stepped past the barrier and let the gate close behind him. He checked his pads, made sure his skates were on tight. Then he straightened up and looked across the rink. Ahead of him was Minseok in his alcove. Behind him were Yixing and the crew. Luhan took a deep breath and let his hands lift to the buttons of his plaid shirt. One by one, he undid each button. When the last one popped free he stood with the two sides of the shirt clutched in his hands and slowly turned around.

He had been meaning to show Minseok tonight, either in celebration or determination to do better, but this was even better. This was his cocoon shedding.

With his back to Minseok, his eyes on Yixing and Baekhyun, Luhan removed his shirt. He draped it over the barrier, straightened his tank top, and lifted his arms to the side so that Minseok could see. Up one arm and down the other, in plain, bold ink: NO WINGS NEEDED.

Luhan turned back around. For the first time since Luhan had noticed him, Minseok had moved - one gloved hand was now covering the front of his mask. Luhan turned his attention away from Minseok and began his first line.

It all seemed to go so fast. Luhan rocketed over grinds and spins, and before he knew it he was approaching his last jump. This was it. No turning back now.

As he threw himself into a 900, Luhan thought about flying - about motorbikes and ocean dreams and the feeling of holding Minseok in his arms and tumbling over the edge together. He imagined Minseok sitting on the edge of the half-pipe, cheering him on as he rushed past.

Just for a second, Luhan truly flew.

He touched down on an angle, skidding against the ramp for a terrifying moment before managing to regain his balance, and he mentally kicked himself for daydreaming. He’d probably lost a fair few points for that fumble. The crowd seemed to be encouraging anyway, screaming and cheering as Luhan skated off and nailed a final grind combo before skidding to a finish in the centre of the rink.

Breathing hard, hands sweating, eyes watering, Luhan turned around to look at Minseok. He wasn’t there. Luhan turned in a slow circle with his heart jackhammering in his throat and let out a vocal breath of relief when he located Minseok at the other end of the rink, in front of the stands where Baekhyun and the others sat.

As he skated towards him, Luhan glanced up. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were hollering through cupped hands, Kris pumping one fist in the air as the other sat bandaged and iced in his lap. Yixing looked like he might explode with pride. Of the four of them, only Baekhyun seemed to have noticed Minseok waiting for Luhan at the barrier.

“What the hell was that?” Minseok’s mask was pulled down under his chin, and he ripped his sunglasses off as Luhan came to a stop in front of him. “What the fuck was that, Luhan? That wasn’t a 900!”

Luhan felt his face fall. “Did I not get around?” He knew it. He hadn’t been concentrating, and he’d under-rotated the spin.

Minseok was staring at him incredulously. “Luhan. You just did a fucking 1260.”

“… Oh.”

Not under-rotated. Over-rotated. Enough to complete a whole extra spin.

“Oh,” Minseok echoed. “You- oh my god.” He yanked his mask off completely and began to stand from his chair.

“What are you doing?” Luhan scrambled to try and push him back down as the blanket fell from his lap. “People are going to recognise you!”

“I don’t care.” Minseok pushed his hood back and dropped his hat to the ground, and Luhan registered a moment of surprise that his hair was bright blue.

“Minseok-”

“What kind of asshole values his legacy over his boyfriend?”

Boyfriend-

Luhan’s heart clenched tight. The crowd was murmuring around them, whispers of who and is that and snippets of Kim Minseok, that’s Kim Minseok, but Luhan let them go, because Minseok’s arms were around his neck, pulling him closer across the barrier.

Minseok kissed him like it was the very first time, eager and anxious. He kissed him like this was a cliff they were jumping off together, unsure if they would fall or fly.

Luhan didn’t need wings to fly. All he needed was this.

“I’m so proud of you,” Minseok whispered against his lips, and kissed him again.

This time Luhan wasn’t quick enough to press down the feeling before it tumbled from his mouth.

“I love you,” he blurted out.

He snapped his mouth closed too late and felt his cheeks begin to flame, but Minseok was smiling, all teeth and gums and his eyes crinkled almost shut.

“Oh, good.”

Luhan gaped at him. “Wha-?”

“You’ve said it in your sleep a couple of times,” Minseok explained. “I was hoping you were talking to me.”

“Oh.” Luhan couldn’t imagine what dreams those might have been, but neither could he imagine them involving anyone other than Minseok. “Uh. Yeah.”

Minseok laughed and kissed him one more time. “I love you too. And I am so, so proud of you.”

He leaned back and gestured towards the gate, but Luhan just swung a leg over the barrier. As he climbed over, he looked up at the stands, suddenly remembering about the others. Chanyeol and Kris looked bewildered; Baekhyun had both hands over his mouth. Yixing, Luhan realised with a shock, was openly sobbing, smiling and crying and hugging himself as he looked down at them. Luhan tried to put are you okay? into a smile, and Yixing just beamed back at him before giving an embarrassed sort of laugh and lifting one shaking hand to cover his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” Minseok repeated, when Luhan was on the right side of the barrier. “Luhan, you just won, I-”

“What? No, you don’t know that, don’t get my hopes up-”

“Listen to me.” Minseok took him by the shoulders. “No-one else held a candle to you today. You just won East Xtreme.”

That seemed to be the general conclusion. As they found a spot in the front row where Luhan could sit and Minseok could park in front of him, they were approached by a teenage boy - a tall, gangly kid with floppy hair and a shy smile. Luhan recognised him as one of the new kids at the rink, the ones who skated around the very edges and seemed to shy away from the older skaters in awe. Now he stood just at the edge of Luhan and Minseok’s conversation as if scared to butt in.

“What’s up, dude?” Minseok said.

The boy opened his mouth and seemed to take a moment to summon the necessary courage to say, “Are you Kim Minseok?”

Minseok nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“C- can I have your autograph?”

Minseok was silent for a second, and Luhan was almost scared he might say no. Then he smiled.

“Of course, man.” He took the notebook and pen the kid offered him. “What’s your name?”

“Uh, Ki- Kim Jongin.”

“Kim Jongin…” Minseok began to write.

“My friends call m- me Kai,” Jongin added, his cheeks turning a little pink.

“Kim Kai,” Minseok amended. “Are you a skater?”

Jongin nodded. “Y- yeah, I just star- s- started this year.”

“Cool!” Minseok flashed him a grin and signed his name with a scribble. “There you go, dude. Good luck with your skating.”

“Thank you,” Jongin mumbled. His face was bright red as he turned to Luhan. “You’r- y- you’re Luhan. I pr- practise at Zhang Yixing’s rink.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luhan smiled. “I’ve seen you there.”

“Oh my god.” This seemed to be too much for Jongin, and his voice whispered off into silence as he thrust his notebook at Luhan.

“Oh-” Luhan took the book, surprised. “You want my autograph too?”

Jongin nodded furiously.

“Uh. Wow.” Luhan looked down at the page. He’d never given an autograph before. What did one write?

He hesitated, then wrote to Kai, good luck! and signed it Luhan.

Minseok leaned forward to mutter in his ear. “Give it two years, your signature’s just gonna be LH. Your hand cramps up real fast when you have to write your whole name each time.”

Luhan grinned and handed the notebook back to Jongin, who took it with a barely audible “thank you.”

“Did you compete today?” Luhan asked him.

Jongin shook his head. “I can’t do an- any cool flips like you. I just do simple sp- spin- s- spins and grinds.”

“Hey,” Luhan shrugged, “simple’s fine. You can place with the easiest moves as long as you do them well.”

Jongin made a noise like a mouse being squashed. He turned as if to scurry back to his seat, then wheeled back and stumbled over his feet to face Minseok.

“Um, my friend wan- wants to know-” he paused and glanced down.

Luhan could see Minseok preparing the words motorbike accident, but Jongin’s question was different.

“What do you d- do now that you’ve stop- pp- st- now that you’re not sk- skating anymore?”

Visibly surprised, Minseok hesitated. After a glance at Luhan he said carefully, “I play basketball.”

“Oh. Cool. Thanks.” Jongin gave them both a little wave and scuttled away to the other end of the rink.

For a minute neither Luhan nor Minseok spoke. Then Minseok ducked his head.

“That was-” he broke off and pressed the back of his fingers to his eyes.

“Woah, are you okay?” Luhan leaned forward to put an arm around Minseok’s shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just-” Minseok sniffed and cleared his throat. “I- I still have fans.”

Luhan gave a surprised laugh. “Of course you have fans! What do you think I was?”

“Yeah, I know,” Minseok cleared his throat again and straightened up. “I’m just… he didn’t mention it. I didn’t expect him not to mention it.”

His eyes were a little bright as he looked at Luhan, but his smile was real, and his fingers were firm as he squeezed Luhan’s hand.

“Oh, babe.” Luhan tucked a stray lock of Minseok’s hair behind his ear and was halfway forward to kiss him when he remembered. “I- I mean- I’m sorry-”

Minseok raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t I already tell you I liked that one?”

“Wha- I thought you meant-”

“I think it’s adorable,” Minseok said. “I don’t know why you don’t say it more often.”

“Oh.”

“You fucking cutie.” Minseok was still laughing as he kissed him.

When Luhan turned to glance back up the stands a moment later, he found Baekhyun staring at him. Luhan gave him a wide grin, and Baekhyun returned it with a shake of his head. Luhan couldn’t tell what he was mouthing, but he was pretty sure he caught the words “you motherfucker” in there somewhere. He stuck his tongue out and returned to Minseok.

“We’re gonna have some explaining to do later, aren’t we?” Minseok smirked.

“Ehh.” Luhan shrugged. “Baekhyun might kick my ass. It’s okay.” He scratched a hand through Minseok’s hair. “You turned blue.”

“Yeah.” Minseok’s smile was soft and content. “It was time for a change.”

-

The points were in. Luhan bounced on the balls of his feet, barely able to look at the board as the title of their event flashed up. Beside him, Baekhyun was muttering a steady stream of “not last, not last, not last.”

“Don’t worry, man.” Kris gestured towards his sprained wrist. “I’m pretty sure that spot’s mine.”

Baekhyun gave a nervous little laugh and covered his eyes as the placings began to appear.

THIRD PLACE

Luhan held his breath.

Byun Baekhyun

“What?”

“Yes!”

“FUCK YEAH, BAEKKIE!”

Baekhyun’s jaw dropped. He stared up at the board like he couldn’t believe his eyes, mouth open, oblivious to the congratulatory slaps raining down upon his shoulders.

“I placed,” he whispered. “Oh my god. I placed.”

Luhan threw his arms around him. “Hell yeah, you did!”

Baekhyun seemed to have gone into shock. “I can’t believe I actually placed.”

SECOND PLACE, the board announced. Luhan steeled himself. Maybe this would be him. Second would be good. Second would be fantastic.

Amber Liu

A cheer went up over the other side of the crowd. It was the eleventh skater, the girl who had wished Luhan luck on his way into the rink. She let out a whoop and pumped her fist into the air.

FIRST PLACE

Luhan closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see someone else’s name up there. He wasn’t sure which would be worse - his own disappointment, or the knowledge that he had let Minseok down.

For one tense second, the entire rink was absolutely silent.

“FUCK YEAH!”

Kris’s shout startled Luhan’s eyes open. He looked up at the board, blinked, squeezed his eyes shut and looked again.

Lu Han

Lu. Han. Him. His name. His name in first place.

First place. Winner. Winner of the competition.

He’d just won East Xtreme.

“Holy shit.”

A dozen people were descending on him with hugs and high fives, but Luhan turned and looked for Minseok. Sitting in the front row next to Yixing and Chanyeol, with a smile a thousand miles wide, he was stamping his foot against the floor like two hands weren’t enough to clap with. Luhan raised a hand and pointed at him, and that was all he did, but he hoped Minseok understood.

You. You won this with me. I could not have achieved a fraction of this without you.

Minseok closed his eyes, and his smile stretched so wide Luhan thought it might break his face. Yes, Luhan thought, he understood.

-

After prizegiving, Luhan took a second to look at what he’d won. There was the trophy, big and gold with his name engraved on the baseplate, as well as a bag of gear from the competition’s sponsors. More incredible, though, was the check, which Luhan had to read a couple of times to be sure it was real.

There were four zeroes in that number. This was more money than he’d ever had in his life.

Luhan turned and walked away from the winners’ area towards the stands, where Minseok and Yixing had their heads together in conversation.

“Yixing.”

“Luhan,” Yixing turned to smile at him. “Congratulations-”

“Here.” Luhan handed him the check.

Yixing baulked. “Wh- what-?”

“For you.”

“No, Luhan, I can’t take-”

“You said the rink ran off Minseok’s winnings,” Luhan said. “Well, now it runs off mine.” He pushed the check into Yixing’s hand, then shoved his own hands into his pockets so that Yixing couldn’t give it back to him.

Yixing looked torn. He looked down at the check, then at Luhan, and finally at Minseok.

“I believe fifty percent was your usual cut for training and practise venue back in the day,” Minseok said. “Seems fair to me.”

Luhan shrugged. “Sure, if you only want half.”

Yixing stared at the check in his hand as if eternal damnation rested on his decision of whether or not to take it.

As he was deliberating, Baekhyun bounded up to them with Chanyeol and Kris on his heels.

“Hey, Xingy Xing! Holy prize money, Batman! I can pay my membership now.”

And just like that, Yixing seemed to make up his mind. With a glance at Luhan, he folded the check into his pocket.

“No,” he said to Baekhyun. “No more memberships.”

“What?” Baekhyun looked stricken. “You’re not closing the rink, are you?”

“No, no, of course not,” Yixing hastened to reassure him. “But I’m not charging anymore. No more monthly membership fees.”

“Oh, phew,” Baekhyun clapped a hand over his heart. “For a second I thought you were gonna close it down, and I was about to lose my shit, I was like oh no, where would we go, the rink’s the heart of the community! Like, most of us live our lives at the rink, we don’t really have anywhere else to go, you know? I- woah, woah, dude, are you alright?”

Yixing had burst into tears, gasping ugly sobs as he pressed his hands to his face in a vain attempt to control himself.

“Oh my god.” Baekhyun was bewildered. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Minseok said. “He’s just overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry, this is stupid,” Yixing sobbed. “I- I’m just so- so proud of you all. I r- remember when you first came to the- the rink, you were so small and you were wobbling around on your sk- skates, and now look at you, I’m j- just so proud of you and I don’t d- deserve you all-” he dissolved into unintelligible tears as Baekhyun pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun said, making a helpless face at Luhan over Yixing’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Xingy, we love you.” This only made Yixing cry harder, weeping into Baekhyun’s shirt as Baekhyun patted his back.

As Baekhyun clumsily comforted Yixing, Minseok tapped Luhan’s hip to get his attention and beckoned for him to lean down.

“Don’t think you’re going to be supporting the rink all by yourself,” he said into Luhan’s ear.

Luhan leaned back to frown at him. “Why not?”

Biting his lip to hold back a smile, Minseok unlocked his phone. “I was gonna wait until later to tell you, and I’m not gonna tell anyone else right now because I don’t want to steal your thunder, but…” he handed the phone to Luhan.

It was a text message.

Hey KimMin, I just heard the news! Welcome to the team!

Luhan looked up at Minseok.

“What-?”

Minseok leaned forward in his wheelchair.

“I signed with the national men’s wheelchair basketball team yesterday morning.”

“Oh my god.” Luhan’s jaw hit the floor. “No way! Are you fucking with me right now?”

Minseok shook his head, his grin wide and mischievous.

“Pretty important errands I’ve been running, huh?”

“Holy shit.” Luhan shoved Minseok’s phone into his own pocket and grabbed Minseok around the waist, scooped him up out of his chair and into his arms. “Holy shit! Babe! That’s so exciting!”

Minseok giggled as Luhan spun him around, his leg hooked over Luhan’s hip and Shorty pressing at his waist.

“Put me down! You’re making a scene, I’ll have to tell everyone at this rate!”

“Don’t care.” Luhan kissed him, long and deep, clutching him close with one hand on Minseok’s back and the other under his thigh. “My boyfriend’s a pro baller, I wanna tell the world!”

“Okay but seriously,” Minseok laughed, “it hasn’t been officially announced yet, so shhh.” He silenced Luhan with a kiss.

“GROSS, GET A ROOM.”

Luhan looked over his shoulder at Kris, who was gagging exaggeratedly behind Chanyeol’s back.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Kinky Threeway.”

“Hey.” Kris held up a defensive hand. “I don’t get involved in the kinky stuff. I just enable the kinky stuff.”

“You could get involved in the kinky stuff if you wanted,” Chanyeol pointed out.

Kris didn’t even blink. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

Minseok snorted and slithered out of Luhan’s arms to sit back down in his chair.

“Hey,” he said, “what time do you think it’ll be by the time we get home tonight?”

Luhan shrugged. “I dunno, probably about nine?”

“Is that too late for a party at my place?”

“A- really?”

Minseok shrugged.

“What else is my fucking huge house good for? We’ll have a few drinks to celebrate. Just for a couple hours, and then I’ll kick everyone out because I’m a grumpy old man.”

Luhan raised an eyebrow. “Am I allowed to stay the night?”

Minseok’s answering grin was wicked. “You are expected to stay the night.”

“Take it to the DMs, guys,” Baekhyun said. “No foreplay in front of the children. And by children I mean Kris.”

“You know what, Baek-”

Luhan left Kris to wrestle Baekhyun into a headlock with his good arm. Leaning down, he cupped Minseok’s face between his hands and kissed him, gentle and sweet.

“Hey babe?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I need a cup of coffee before the drive home.”

Minseok smiled. “Me too. There’s a nice little cafe down the road if you want to go check it out.”

“Sounds good to me.” Luhan pecked another kiss to Minseok’s lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

As he followed Minseok out the front door of the stadium, Luhan spread his arms to catch the air. The afternoon sun was warm on his skin, and despite the heavy bag of gear slung across his shoulders, he had never felt lighter. With victory behind him and Minseok ahead, Luhan skipped across the plaza. Every step felt like flying - no wings needed.