she-nigma, oh yes I did. (asisharada) wrote,
she-nigma, oh yes I did.

[EXO Fic] Going, Going, Gone

Going, Going, Gone: Xiumin/Lu Han (4047 words)

Minseok gets a crush and proceeds to be an embarrassment to mankind (and shoujo manga).

The first time it hits Minseok, it literally hits him. In the face. With a soccer ball. He looks up at the sound of violins and a male chorus singing ‘Hallelujah’, and then looks down to the damp grass and his white sneakers tainted with red droplets.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lu Han asks, cupping Minseok’s face and bending down to peer at his injury. “Holy crap, Minseok, why didn’t you block it?”

Minseok obstructs the view of his viciously bleeding (and probably horrendously un-aesthetic) nose, and swats Lu Han’s face away – because it was much too bright. It was actually glowing, with anime sparkles dotting Lu Han’s eyes, and some sort of holy light emanating from his pores, and Minseok seriously thinks Lu Han should’ve been less tacky when applying the BBcream this morning. That BBwhore. He needed to be told the error of his ways.

“asdfghjkl” Minseok verbalises, and another gush of blood spills through the crevices between his fingers.

Lu Han slowly walks him forward, pressing Minseok’s petite body against his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso. “Okay, don’t worry, I’ll get help,” Lu Han assures, rubbing a comforting hand up and down Minseok’s back. A jolt of static runs through Minseok’s spine and he looks up at Lu Han with wide eyes.

Lu Han keeps murmuring words of reassurance, and he’s holding him so close that Minseok can feel the flutter of Lu Han’s breath across his neck. Minseok staggers as they walk, and it becomes so much of a concern that Lu Han lifts Minseok’s chin up to look at him – and shoot, those anime sparkles are back again. The male chorus begins their serenade, the violins play, and the sky turns a sickly pastel pink with glitter raining from the clouds. All too suddenly Minseok’s head feels light and dizzy, and he blinks. Once, twice, before realising—

Is this love?

His vision turns black and his head hits the damp grass. Nope, it’s just a concussion.

He wakes up in the nurses room with two cotton balls padded over his nose and a cold compress against his forehead. “What happened?” he groans, sitting up and letting the compress fall to his lap.

The nurse scribbles apathetically onto her clipboard, “You fainted. Your friend dragged you here,” she spins around on her chair and turns to face him, lips set in a firm grimace. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Um, last night,” he answers sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had a garden salad.”

The nurse rubs her temples, as if Minseok was another one of those trainees. “Look kid, they can’t debut you if you’re dead. If you don’t eat, and then decide to play soccer in thirteen degrees weather, your body is going to go weak from exertion. I’m surprised you didn’t start hallucinating.”

Minseok thinks back to his girlish fantasy and sighs – of course. “Well, alright then, can I leave?”

The nurse punches a few numbers onto her computer, “Yeah, you’re fine, you slept for around three hours.”

Minseok nods and places the cold compress on the bedside table before exiting through door. His stomach quivers and sends an embarrassingly low growl resounding through the hall. Time to make headway for the canteen, clearly.

“Ah, there you are!” a voice calls.

Minseok halts.

Lu Han is walking towards him, and although Minseok appreciates the absence of the male choir and string quartet, Lu Han is still glowing and, wow, is the thermostat wacked out today or what? Minseok wipes non-existent sweat off his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Lu Han asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Minseok swallows and nods.

“Are you hungry?”

Minseok shakes his head.

“Are you going to eat soon?”

Minseok nods again.

Lu Han raises an eyebrow, “Are you planning to dignify me with a response?”

Minseok almost shakes his head but stops himself, and instead imitates a strange facial twitch.

Lu Han laughs, and Minseok curses him back into whatever Shoujo manga he decided to jump out of. “Well, can I catch up with you during dinner?” he asks.

Minseok nods slowly and waits until Lu Han turns the corner and is out of sight before running back into the nurse’s office. His presence is highly unwelcomed, and Minseok pretends not to see the adult movie the nurse currently had loaded on the computer screen.

“Why are you here?” she scowls, quickly minimising her current windows and giving Minseok a stern look.

“I’m pretty sure I’m still sick,” Minseok claims, walking over to the bed and sprawling himself over it. “It’s okay, I’ll just sleep it out. Return to your cinema.”

“You aren’t sick, you look fine to me,” the nurse stalks over and attempts to pull Minseok off the bed, something that proves to be a difficult feat when he starts clawing the mattress for dear life.

“Um, no I’m not, there’s a really weird feeling in my stomach and it won’t go away,” Minseok shrieks, flailing as the nurse pulls him away by the collar. She ushers him out of the room, but Minseok places both palms firmly on the doorframe and refuses to budge. “I really think this should be checked, I could become the start of an epidemic!”

The nurse slaps her forehead in exasperation. “Honestly, you look fine, and you don’t seem to be showing any symptoms.”

“Okay, no you don’t understand. It’s like my stomach just drops, and there’s this niggling feeling weighing it down and it starts churning. And it isn’t even all the time, apparently it’s only when I try talking to people. Well not people, only one person. And, wait, wait, wait, hold it!” Minseok raises a hand and runs his fingers through his black locks at his sudden epiphany. “Could I be in love?”

The nurse shrugs, “It sounds like early symptoms of gastritis to me. But sure, it could be love. Whatever makes you leave the room.” She never gives Minseok time to consider the former possibility and pushes him out into the hallway.

The door shuts with a loud bang, and Minseok is left standing alone with only his tumultuous thoughts to accompany him.

‘So, I like-like Lu Han, huh?’

Minseok clears his throat and looks down both sides of the hallway before burying his head into his hands and emitting a girlish squeal.

Minseok ends up suppressing all feelings extending beyond platonic friendship and treats his emotions like some kind of high school crush that’d blow over in a few weeks. But one month before their debut, two years later, and Minseok still has to bite his lip and try not to turn into incoherent mush when Lu Han is extra touchy, or extra lovely, or simply extra Lu Han-y. It’s a problem, since they’re supposed to be really good friends. Which they are because Minseok is thankfully, good at keeping up false pretences, but he isn’t going to lie to himself and pretend he ended up borrowing Brokeback Mountain to watch with Lu Han on their movie night by accident.

Zitao has a bad habit of watching K-dramas on his portable in between shootings, and Minseok has a worse habit of watching over Zitao’s shoulder. It’s about thirty minutes into an episode of Boys Over Flowers that Minseok widens his eyes and realises that he had somehow projected his own cavity-inducing feelings onto the drama. And that it wasn’t Goo Jun Pyo and Geum Jan Di cuddling up together for warmth on top of a viewing tower anymore – it was him and Lu Han. The thought is cute enough for him to end up crouching on the toes of his feet, attempting to fan down a furious blush.

“Hey Minseok, can I borrow some lip balm.”

Ah, and so the offender speaks.

Minseok turns around to tell Lu Han ‘No I don’t have lip balm and maybe you should ask the cordi noona instead?’, but it ends up sounding more like “Wh-why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

Lu Han shuffles uncomfortably on his feet and wraps his arms around his chest, “I’m going to wear a jacket for the actual shoot, don’t worry.” he murmurs, darting his eyes away from Minseok’s slack jaw. “Hey, I know I’m not the most built guy in the world, but some tact would be nice.”

Minseok blinks and closes his mouth; wow wasn’t Lu Han reading him wrong. “What, no, it’s fine. I’ll just… I’ll be, I’ll be over there,” Minseok waves his arms and points to nowhere in particular before scuffling away from Lu Han’s confused gaze.

Minseok is ashamed to admit he watches Lu Han’s shoot the most intently out of all of them. He brushes off everyone’s suspicions and claims he’s trying to pick up some of Lu Han’s ‘charisma’, something no one believes when the latter ends up tripping over the props when the photographers ask him to show a bit more skin. Minseok figures this is probably when the whole world figures it out.

“Wow, has Lu Han been working out or what? You have some competition Kris,” Minseok laughs and pats Kris’ chest playfully.

Kris looks down, “You touched me,” he states, and Minseok withdraws his hand immediately. “Also no, he doesn’t even give Yixing in all his emaciated glory competition. He doesn’t even give a stick competition.”

Minseok feels offended on Lu Han’s behalf, and he turns to the shoot where Lu Han had just gotten his tendrils caught in the zipper of his jacket. “What are you talking about, he’s so suave!” Minseok exclaims.

“Wow, that didn’t sound sarcastic, that’s worrying,” Kris squints and leans forward, “what are you seeing?”

Minseok blinks, he’s seeing a lot of rose petals and a field full of daisies and little woodland critters dancing in a circle around Lu Han singing nursery rhymes. He rubs his eyes. And there’s Lu Han pouting as a cordi attempts to fix his hair. That’s better. “Umm…”

“You’re in so deep,” Kris snorts, walking away.  “Seriously, just stop trying.”

Minseok does stop trying, he really does. But it’s also really hard to when the formation for EXO-M has both of them pressed up against each other more than often not. Minseok can usually save himself by taking a few steps back and violating Jongdae’s personal space instead, but it’s an unavoidable issue in interviews. Because Lu Han is a touchy person, with a compulsive need to intertwine their fingers together whenever “Xiumin’s” failed existence in China amuses him, and he places a hand on Minseok’s thigh whenever they’re asked to talk about each other. And even though they have a translator right there, Lu Han feels the need to lean over and bury his head into Minseok’s neck to keep him on top simply out of the good of his heart. Minseok can see Jongdae’s eyes flicker enviously towards them, probably simultaneously judging Tao’s uselessness at translating. The whole thing makes Minseok so deliriously happy it’s actually quite pathetic.

The best thing about airports, Minseok thinks, is the free Wi-Fi. He can stand against a pillar tapping away on his phone and look so engaged that no one approaches him. Including an incoherency-inducing friend who shall not be named.

“Are you reading fanfiction about you and Lu Han?” Jongdae asks, peering over Minseok’s shoulder.

Minseok jumps and juggles with his phone before stuffing it away in the depths of his pocket. “What? No! I wasn’t! Why would you! What—shut up!” Minseok sputters, affronted when Jongdae begins snickering.

“I was just kidding, wow, someone’s defensive,” Jongdae teases, raising two arms in protection.

Minseok huffs and turns away, “And no, I wasn’t reading fanfiction about me and Lu Han. Because it doesn’t exist. I know. I checked. Oi, I can see you judging me from behind those hipster glasses!” he cries.

Jongdae pushes said hipster glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, “Hyung, I’m not an enemy. I’m here to help you,” he states.

“How?” Minseok blinks, “Wait, are you going to write some—”

“Uh, no, more like, I’m going to give you advice.” Jongdae leans beside Minseok on the pillar.

“What advice?” Minseok asks, narrowing his eyes. Chanyeol too, had offered him advice a few days before they had left for Beijing. ‘Jump him in the shower’ had been his intelligent contribution to Minseok’s dilemma.

“I think you should tell him,” Jongdae offers. It takes Minseok a second or two to absorb this information before he bursts into harsh laughter.

“Wow Jongdae, how long did it take you to come up with that gem?” Minseok snorts and returns to playing with his phone.

Jongdae shrugs, infuriatingly cool, “I don’t know, I just thought it’d be more dignified if he found out through you rather than finding out himself.”

Minseok chuckles. “See, he isn’t going to find out himself though, unless-” he narrows his eyes, “you aren’t going to tell him are you? Because I know everyone and their CEO knows— no like seriously, even President Soo Man knows, I don’t even—“

Jongdae cuts him off, “I’m not going to tell him, but like just so you know, you turn into a tomato over a steamed bun whenever Lu Han even looks in your direction.”

Minseok gawks at him.

“Oh, and I walked past your room the other night and you murmur his name in your sleep.” Jongdae adds as an afterthought.

“Ah, there you are,” two hands clasp Minseok’s shoulders and he freezes. “Baozi, I was looking for you,” Lu Han mumbles. Minseok swallows thickly and Jongdae stifles the grin threatening to let slip and turns around. “I’m bored,” Lu Han moans slowly into his ear, in reality he’s probably just whispering, but Jesus Christ.

“YOU DON’T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” Minseok squeaks, shrugging off Lu Han’s hands and scurrying away to anywhere but there. Next to Lu Han.

Lu Han blinks, “What’s wrong with him?” he turns to Jongdae.

Jongdae sighs, “So many things.”

After Jongdae’s necessary but absolutely scandalous revelation a few weeks ago, Minseok begins to take all necessary precautions in order to ensure his absolutely life destroying secret crush on Lu Han remains a secret. From at least Lu Han. He’d given up hope on everyone else after the host from their last interview pulled him aside and told him the proper way to put his hand on Lu Han’s thigh.

He spends his days avoiding eye contact, purposefully putting a two metres distance between himself and Lu Han at all times, and to prevent his alleged sleep talking from ever occurring again, he plays Bubble Pop on his laptop on full blast before falling into slumber. He wakes up to Zitao shaking and rocking himself back and forth on the bed next to him, but dismisses it as a sacrifice for the greater good of mankind. Everything goes pretty well, and he manages to not blush, stutter, or make an idiot of himself in front of Lu Han for two weeks straight.

He does, however, manage to start twenty fights with Lu Han within those two weeks.

“Seriously, Minseok what’s wrong? We’re only ever arguing these days!” Lu Han frowns, arms on his hips.

Minseok scoffs, “We don’t only ever argue,” he insists. Lu Han snorts and flops back down on the sofa and Minseok grimaces. “No seriously, we don’t—Oh. My. God. Did you just have the audacity to put your head on my special pillow.”

Lu Han lets out a strangled cry, “For God’s sake,” he throws the pillow at Minseok, who ducks and causes it to instead collide with a showpiece on top of the hallway table. “Take your fucking pillow,” Lu Han curses, stalking back into his room.

Minseok is at a loss for words, something tightens in his chest but he assumes he probably deserves it. Oh well, there’s no way Lu Han would ever like him back or even suspect Minseok of liking him now.

After Minseok spends five consecutive days wallowing in his own misery, writing dark poems in his journal, and changes his lullaby from Bubble Pop to a Korn song, everyone decides it’s time to save Minseok from himself. Of course being the worst bandmates ever, they assign the actual saving to Lu Han. Who, in a completely unoriginal fashion, corners Minseok whilst he’s angsting on his bed and locks the bedroom door behind them. The first thing to go through Minseok’s mind is to run, the second thing is ‘did I remember to get rid of that incriminating sign Zitao had stuck up’.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?” Lu Han asks, leaning against the door. Minseok sits upright on the bed and he prays to whatever God there is that Lu Han doesn’t notice the way Minseok’s legs turn into jelly in his presence.

“Nothing is up with me,” Minseok replies, it’s meant to be reassuring but it comes out scathing. Oops. Well, might as well be consistent. “Can you please move from my general vicinity?” Minseok attempts to manoeuvre his way around Lu Han, but the latter moves side to side, obstructing all possible routes of escape.

“Nope, we’re going to talk about this. This is why Kris should’ve taken tips from Suho. If we all just talked about our feelings every week this kind of stuff could have been avoided.” Lu Han stands his ground and smiles when Minseok weakens and collapses on the floor. The last thing Minseok needs is to divulge his ‘feelings’ to Lu Han.

“Please no,” Minseok murmurs.

“And this is why it’s just me,” Lu Han chortles but his expression turns staid soon after. “But really Minseok, what’s wrong? You’re acting so moody towards everyone these days. Some days you’re so quiet, other days you’re just bitter, and then you’re sad and it’s like you’re stuck in a funk.”

Minseok lifts himself back onto two feet and attempts to look Lu Han dead in the eye, but the eye contact makes his stomach tissue burn and so he aims a bit lower towards Lu Han’s nose. Such a cute nose, like a little button, Minseok just wants to—

“Why?” Lu Han asks again.

Oh right, Minseok clears his throat. “Honestly it’s not a big deal, I’ll get over it soon. It’s just been hard, adapting to a new culture and all,” Minseok excuses, trying to reach for the doorknob in between Lu Han’s elbow. Lu Han catches his wrist in between two fingers and frowns disbelievingly.

“Okay, can I be honest? It’s not even everyone. It’s just me. I feel like it’s just me. I get this feeling that you don’t like being around me anymore, and well, it sort of hurts. I mean, it’s me Minseok. Have I done anything wrong? Is it something I said? I just, please,” Lu Han pleads, bending down to catch Minseok’s eye. Minseok gathers up his courage and takes a peek at Lu Han from between his short bangs and – ah, fuck, the violins are starting up again.

Lu Han bites his bottom lip, “Please,” he tries again, “I miss you.”

Screw the violins, screw the male chorus, screw the rose petals, the anime sparkles, and the little woodland critters that would scarper around Lu Han in his delusions. Minseok wasn’t made for these Shoujo-esque archetypes. “Okay,” Minseok seethes, “do you want to know what you do wrong?”

Lu Han steps back and raises his arms, “Hit me with your best shot.”

“That!” Minseok spits out.

Lu Han quirks an eyebrow, “What?”

Unfortunately Minseok is like a balloon newly pricked, or a drunk fifteen year old girl, and the word bile spewing from his mouth is unstoppable. “You’re so freaking caring, and you’re always looking out for other people, and everyone loves you and sometimes I think I do too! And then you get so shy whenever people fawn over you, and you get so insecure whenever people say you’re pretty, and it’s so freaking precious it drives me fucking insane! And it makes no sense because we’ve all seen those unfortunate pre-debut pictures of you! You’ve only known everyone for two years but it’s like they love you more than anything, like holy cow, I love you more than anything! And it’s not even emotional assault that you do to me. You just rub your hands over my thigh during interviews and whisper into my ear and it’s like no big deal, and I’m just left trying to hold myself together, and it’s so freaking unfair. And just the way you look at everyone. Like you have so much love in your eyes, and you just leave me feeling so, and just-”  Minseok exhales deeply and presses his eyes shut, trying to forego the overwhelming embarrassment and the incessant ringing in his ears.

“Wait, what did you say?” Lu Han asks, Minseok looks up at him and almost growls at how unfazed he looks.

“I said a lot of things, I really don’t want to repeat myself—“

“No just, what did you say before the attack on my face,” Lu Han asks.

“Um, hold myself together?”

Lu Han tsks, “No before that.”

“Thigh touching,” Minseok offers, and at the reminder Lu Han’s ears turn pink, which basically causes Minseok to flush red. Fantastic.

“B-before that,” Lu Han stammers.

“I lov—“ Minseok thins his lips, “nothing,” he squeaks.

“Do you really?” Lu Han asks.

“Do I what, I didn’t say anything, what did you hear?” Minseok rambles, “Like do I really what? Without the verb I can’t really—“

“Minseok,” Lu Han states firmly, “I’m asking you seriously, do you?”

“Do I what? I’m saying it seriously too, there’s no way for me to interpret—“

“Fine, I was trying to save you embarrassment, but I’ll say it out loud.” Lu Han says, and smirks when Minseok looks at him wide eyed. “Do you—“

“MAMA, MAMA—“ Minseok sings, closing his hands over his ears.

“Kim Minseok—“



“BOOM SHAKALAKA!” Minseok runs forward and stops Lu Han’s sentence.

With his lips.

Oh yeah.

“Yes, yes, I do. More than anything, more than anything in the world,” Minseok confesses breathlessly, colouring when Lu Han’s eyelids flicker up and down. Minseok clears his throat, “not enough to say it out loud though. And like, it’s okay, I’ll close my eyes and you can leave the room, I won’t mind, just I’ll move on. Like—“

“No,” Lu Han cuts him off, “that’s, that’s not what I want,” he says. Lu Han pushes Minseok back and rubs the back of his neck. “I- I- you’re nice. I want to try, I think I might like you?”

Minseok blinks and tries to hold down the stupid smile quirking it’s way onto his face. “R-really?’

“Well, I think I do. I didn’t think so. But now I think I do!” Lu Han adds quickly at the downturn of Minseok’s face, “ a lot actually. I think I have for a long time coming, really.”

“That’s, wow, that’s, okay, um… Do you want to actually date? Or just continue being friends and see how it evolves.” Minseok asks.

Lu Han laughs and brings Minseok closer, “You’re so stupid Baozi” he whispers into his ear, and Minseok knows he’s not dreaming up the ridiculously velvety tone Lu Han says it in. Lu Han’s lips travel from the shell of Minseok’s ear until they meet the other’s own chapped mouth. There’s no more glitter and anime sparkles this time, just fireworks.

“Woooooow,” someone exclaims from the door, causing Minseok and Lu Han to break apart abruptly.

“Um, sorry Yixing, did you need something?” Lu Han asks, lifting his collar to hide the flush around his neck.

“No, just continue,” Yixing shakes his head, “but wow, really, who saw this coming?”


a/n: hey there guys! long time no fic. anyway, this was written in a really spur of a moment kind of way, and it's definitely not my best. and i keep telling myself i'm not in exo fandom, and i'm totally not, i swear, but i sort of adore these two and just, yeah, they're adorable. also, i hope you noticed how i not so subtly beg everyone to write xiuhan fic inside of the fic. so guys, yeah, write me xiuhan fic! so that i don't have to pollute the pairing with my bad fics! also, not that this should surprise anyone, but i can't be funny. i legit went to my sister and said HELP ME WRITE FUNNY STUFF.
Tags: fandom: exo, pairing: xiumin/lu han
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