#358: The Moonbeam

[lordchen]

Prompt: #358
Title: The Moonbeam
Pairing: Chen/Luhan
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: China line, drinking, murder attempts.
Word count: 18.4K
Summary: The line between reality and a dream is blurred by the moonlight. It’s the moonbeam that brings life to one’s dreams.
Author's note: OP, I fell in love with your prompt instantly, but my mind decided to take it the other way around. Maybe you were expecting something different. I hope that you can still enjoy this story.



There’s a portrait, in the living room of Jongdae’s apartment, of a young man slightly turned from the front, craning his neck to face his audience. It was not his raven hair or his features, which resembled a marble statue depicting beauty, that had called Jongdae’s attention. It was his eyes, more specifically his stare, curious at times, scared at others, but mostly inviting.

Jongdae has spent mornings and evenings and afternoons tracing the painting with his own eyes. ‘Mesmerized’ could describe him, but ‘obsessed’ could do so too. It has gotten to the point where even at night, when he rests in the dark, he still sees those big shining eyes. He has painted those soft pink lips again in his own mind. He has imagined the feeling of that tiny scar below the mouth on his fingertips (and sometimes, his lips).

*

The day the painting comes into Jongdae’s life, he finds himself in the streets of Bukchon, being pulled by the arm by his friend Junmyeon. Somehow he was convinced to go with him to an art auction. They find the antiques shop and enter. While Junmyeon looks the part of an art connoisseur, someone with money and taste, Jongdae feels out of place. He is dressed smart, he’d just finished work; he just feels uncomfortable after having taken a look around. The people that surround them are the stereotypical clients you would find in a store in Apgujeong Rodeo, driving an Audi that matches perfectly with their Armani suit. All Jongdae does after having crossed the door is judge those rich snobs. When he looks to his side, he meets Junmyeon’s eyes and his reprimanding stare. His friend fits in perfectly with this crowd.

Patting his dark blue blazer bought in Myeongdong, Jongdae takes a deep breath and steps forward.

They follow the sign that leads to a small room full of chairs and take a seat, facing a stage. Jongdae resigns himself to a boring evening full of people with too much money and free time shouting out numbers.

Junmyeon places his hand on top of his and taps twice on it, to bring him back.

“Try to enjoy it.” He says.

Jongdae gives a noncommittal hum.

After some vases, a few coins, a tapestry and a ceramic pot, all with their questionable prices, a small painting is placed on an easel. It’s not very big, it’s not very impressive, but it’s beautiful enough to take Jongdae’s breath away. There’s something in the painting calling him out. It’s a portrait of a young man of beautiful features and a strong gaze that Jongdae can see even if he’s not sitting so close to it. It’s introduced as ‘Deer of Dawn’. The bidding starts at fifty thousand won, to which Jongdae scoffs. Junmyeon looks at him questioningly. Little by little the price gets higher, so does Jongdae’s interest. After staring at the painting for a while, he glances down at the number he’s holding in his hand a few times, until he raises it.

“Three hundred fifty.” He says, clearly.

“I thought you weren’t here to buy.” Junmyeon whispers.

Jongdae shrugs, as the auctioneer shouts a higher number. He can still afford it, so for now he keeps bidding. The problem is that the portrait’s price gets closer to the worth of his salary of two months. Sometimes he can barely make it to the end of the month. He shouldn’t be there, letting the money slip through his fingers. So, when the price changes once again, he gives up.

“Do you really want it?” His friend asks.

“No… It’s ok. I…” Jongdae takes one look at the boy in the painting, shrugs again and sighs.

“Nine hundred sixty thousand won.” Junmyeon’s voice manages to stop the bidding and the portrait gets sold. It’s not much but for Jongdae’s standards it is. Surprised, he takes a look at his friend. Junmyeon doesn’t look the part in this auction, he is the part. Money doesn’t bring much worry to him.

“Hyung, why? I can’t pay it.”

“It’s ok. It’s my present. No need to pay me back.” He smiles and it’s a very Junmyeon like expression. Jongdae knows it; he knows he can’t argue with him. But he wants to keep trying.

“At least, let me pay half of it.” He insists.

“No.” It sounds pretty final, despite the softness of his voice. “In all these years I’ve known you, I’ve never see you look at anything with as much awe as this silly portrait.”

That’s because you’ve never seen the way I look at you.

Jongdae decides to drop it and accept it. He leaves the store with the painting wrapped in white paper. The drive home is silent. He wonders if Junmyeon’s ever noticed his little crush or not. Maybe he has and this is his weird way of saying move on. Or maybe it’s just Jongdae trying to tell that to himself when he saw the young man on the portrait. But it’s a strange way of letting go; Junmyeon is real, the ‘Deer’ is not.

Junmyeon drops him home and they part ways.

*

The painting lies on the couch, against the back rest, waiting to be unwrapped while Jongdae’s busy making ramyun and letting his home welcome him back after a long day. Once he’s done, he sits down next to it and lets his fingertips trace the material. He feels inexplicably nervous; anxiety starts to creep on him. But he’s still gentle. With his fingernail, he scratches the paper at the top and hears the ripping sound. He pulls at it.

The ivory white of the wrapping paper makes way to the old white paper of the painting itself. The skin of the ‘Deer’ is fair. He is as beautiful upclose as Jongdae saw from afar. His eyes were done with short, light brushes of ink; they look like they’re sparkling. Jongdae traces the lines of the ‘Deer’s face with his index. It goes from one eyebrow to his temple, to his cheek, to his jaw and ends on the lips, where he leaves his finger while he stares at every detail of the face.

The portrait fits the wide empty wall of his living room and that’s where it stays after Jongdae hangs it.

*

“He’s hot.” Baekhyun comments, coming from the kitchen after getting a beer. “How much was it?” He sips the can, his eyes not leaving the ‘Deer’.

“It was expensive. Junmyeon bought it for me.” Jongdae explains; it earns him an ohhh from his friends.

Baekhyun plops down on the couch and his legs look much shorter than Chanyeol’s.

“Why did he, though?”

Jongdae guesses it was just kindness. Baekhyun agrees, while Chanyeol nods. Their hyung has always been too generous with them, that’s what made Jongdae’s interest in him grow.

“I wonder…” Chanyeol starts in his deep voice. “Why did you buy him, though? I know you like hot guys, but, come on…”

Jongdae chokes on his beer, spluttering some over his hand. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” He ponders over his reasons, but he can’t recall any other than the eyes. “When I saw him, the first thing I noticed was his eyes.” He remembers how the most beautiful ceramic vase fell short while being compared to the portrait. “They… He looked real, alive. It must be a good painting trick, but it was exactly what made me like it.”

Chanyeol makes an appreciative hum. “It doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always been a little too interested in China.” He gestures to the writing on the side of the painting. It’s some old Chinese characters. “I was gonna guess it was because of that.”

Jongdae laughs lightheartedly. “Yeah, that too.” His friends turn their attention back to the TV, as he takes one last look to the painted boy’s eyes.

*

Jongdae finds company in that portrait. Sometimes he greets the ‘Deer’, while he takes off his shoes after a long day at work. He always laughs at himself afterwards. But he also shares anecdotes, things that happened to him, things that bother him, things that he would like to change.

He stops referring to him as the ‘Deer’ when he pulls out his Chinese book from the depth of his bookshelf. He used to study mandarin. He used to practice it helping chinese tourists on the street. He might not speak much now, but he still understands a lot. In the book, he finds the characters he’s looking for, 鹿晗. He, then, reads them out loud. Luhan.

*

It’s still night time when he wakes up in bed, sweating, his clothes sticking to his body. He tosses and turns but he can’t fall back asleep. He licks his dry lips and decides to get some water. He leaves the lights off and navigates through his apartment with the help of the moonlight.

The glass of water soothes his throat and his chest feels lighter. He fills another glass. When he crosses the kitchen door, he glances at Luhan. He takes another look right after, because his eyes might have tricked him. Luhan’s just blinked. It must have been the light or Jongdae’s own sleepiness.

The moonlight slips in through the living room windows, turning everything blue, grey, black, the colors of the night. Jongdae is aware of a change in the air. The sound of the wind get’s stronger. He looks around and he finds tints of yellow on the white of the walls, the blue fades away, while the orange takes place. He starts to see different shapes and colors and his own living room starts to disappear.

When Jongdae turns around to look at Luhan, he comes face to face with him. Luhan is no longer turned, he’s facing him and his eyes show his shock, which could be a reflection of what Jongdae is feeling. His eyes are wide open, while his mouth forms a small ‘o’. Below him, his body finds its shape. The white clothing he’s wearing is visible now.

“Who are you?” Luhan asks and his voice echoes. Jongdae’s hand weakens; the glass falls. But he doesn’t hear the sound of breaking glass, nor feels the water on his feet. Because, when he looks down, it’s not his floor, it’s not his apartment, he’s not home.

“How did you do that?” Luhan questions him. The words Luhan speaks sound strangely foreign but familiar and it takes Jongdae a moment to realize it’s mandarin.

He pulls out all of his mandarin skills from the depth of this brain, only to reply with a simple “I don’t know”.

Luhan looks ethereal and alive and very confused. The candlelight of his room casts shadows on his features, but his eyes still shine like always. He’s even more handsome than what the portrait has shown. He’s beautiful, and warm, as the hand he places on Jongdae’s cheek tells him.

They stand there staring at each other. Luhan seems fascinated with Jongdae’s face and the guy’s fingertips cause a tingling sensation on Jongdae’s skin. The breathing of both is ragged and there’s expectancy in the air. Neither pull away, but neither go further, until Luhan’s thumb gets close to the corner of Jongdae’s mouth and rubs gently as if to find answers in that small curl. At that moment, Jongdae breathes in air to stop feeling dizzy and that breaks the trance. Luhan hastily drops his hand; his eyes are even wider now.

“You’re real!” Even if Luhan’s the one that says it, Jongdae thinks exactly the same thing. “How did you get here? How did you do that?” There’s utter confusion in his eyes at first, followed then by actual curiosity. Jongdae can’t answer any of those questions, so he just shakes his head and hopes that Luhan understands he’s as confused as Luhan himself.

“What’s your name?” Luhan asks, after a few moments. But Jongdae’s reply seems too difficult for him to understand. “Chen-…dae?” He seems puzzled. “Chen?” Jongdae sighs and accepts his new name with a nod.

The bright smile that simple action brings to Luhan makes it worth it. It’s blinding and unexpected, considering the circumstances. The crinkles around his eyes are accentuated in a way no paint brush could and Jongdae still finds him attractive.

“My name is Luhan.” He points at himself. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” Another nod. “Do you speak mandarin?”

“A bit.”

“It’s ok. I’ll teach you.” And there’s another smile. “How did this happen?” He asks again, but this time he is not questioning Jongdae, he’s simply wondering out loud. He even seems amused, like a child. Suddenly, he lowers his eyes. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes to sleep in.” That’s when he notices that he’s not sweating anymore. The air is chill and he’s starting to feel the cold of the night.

“I’ll lend you clothes.” Luhan states, as he turns to a trunk on the side of the room. “And then we’ll think of something.”

It gives Jongdae time to notice the things around him. He is inside a traditional house, a hanok, but it’s not it. This could be China, because of the mandarin. But the main question is not where, but when. Everything looks like it would fit in a store in Bukchon, just like the one where he bought the portrait. The furniture is made of rosewood, with various decorations. It looks impressive and it makes Jongdae wonder what Luhan’s social status is, how rich he has to be able to afford it. It reminds Jongdae of Junmyeon and his exclusive furniture.

From the trunk, Luhan takes out a piece of clothing very similar to his own. It’s a simple garment, white cotton, cross collar, tied around the waist, long pants. “This is what we wear to sleep.” Jongdae looks down at his old Rolling Stones T-shirt and boxers. Now, he’s even more conscious of his state of undress in front of Luhan, whose ears have turned pink while he looks anywhere else, but Jongdae’s milky thighs.

He thanks him and bows lightly, taking the clothing from the other’s hands.

“Tomorrow, I’m buying you something else.” Luhan comments nonchalantly and Jongdae realizes he’s destined to be surrounded by rich people, which makes him roll his eyes. “Get changed.”Luhan says next with a few hand gestures.

Jongdae coughs and asks him to turn around.

“Ah! Yes! Sorry…” He sheepishly apologizes.

Once Jongdae’s accustomed to the clothing and the place he’s in, they sit down and bit by bit they get to know each other. It’s hard for him to explain himself, who he is, where he’s from and how he found himself there. But Luhan’s nodding his head in pretended understanding and it makes him feel more confident. His struggles with the language are dismissed by the chinese guy after a while. It only seems to make him smile wider. As for Luhan, Jongdae finds out he’s the son of a nobleman. He’s a scholar studying to follow his father steps, who seems to have some relation with the Emperor, if Jongdae’s comprehension of mandarin is correct. Luhan, then, explains to him that in his house they’re used to foreigners staying in.

Facing a stranger on the floor of a traditional house is not how Jongdae expected to spend his night when he went to sleep, but it is where he finds himself and he’s surprisingly fine with it. After all, it seems like a nice dream to have, maybe tomorrow he’ll wake up in his own bed.

They can tell it’s late by the melted wax of the candles and the noises of the night surrounding them. Luhan yawns (cutely) and explains to him that the guest room is two doors next to his room. He excuses himself for not being able to have it prepared before, to which Jongdae interrupts him and explains that his visit was definitely unexpected. When Luhan laughs, his whole face distorts, yet Jongdae still finds him attractive. They both giggle like children in the middle of the night, trying to muffle it with their hands.

They leave Luhan’s room and silently step outside. It’s too dark to fully see anything and the lantern in Luhan’s hand barely lights up a few steps ahead of them. It’s strange to see that every room is like a different small house, all separated and far from each other. A few rooms to the side, there’s the one reserved for guests. It’s spacious enough for someone who has no luggage. He assures Luhan that it’s nice and thanks him for his kindness, as he places the blankets on the floor. They greet each other one last time; Jongdae learns how to say sleep well and says it back. That’s when he realizes that he’s been speaking informally and not once been corrected. Luhan’s been treating him with so much familiarity, as if they’ve been friends for a really long time.

Jongdae lies on the blankets and lets the sleep take him, wishing he wakes up in the same place. He wants to enjoy this for a while longer.

*

When morning comes, Jongdae hears the birds singing, much louder than what he’s used to. There’s also the strange feeling of hard floor and a soft blanket beneath his back. As his brain catches up, he is startled awake. He is in an unfamiliar room, where the walls aren’t made of brick and concrete, but of wood and the door looks like white paper.

Jongdae has little time to freak out over the fact that what seemed like a nice dream might be realer than he thought. Because, as soon as he sits up, there’s a soft knock on the wood and someone’s head peeks through the door. It’s a young, chubby kid, he can’t be over seventeen.

“Mister, you’re awake?” The tone is soft and full of well learned politeness. “Young Master has informed us of your arrival.” Jongdae can only nod. “We´ll be serving you breakfast with Young Master and Master Lu. Here’s a set of clothes for you to wear.” Jongdae scrambles off the bed to take them, while thanking him.

While he’s getting changed, he takes a moment to go over the events of the night before. He still wonders how he ended up in an unknown place, with Luhan, who was supposed to simply be a boy in a portrait. He shakes his head and sighs, resigning himself to another day of confusion. If he were here with Baekhyun or Chanyeol at least, some other company would be nice to have a good laugh. But company would mean having to share Luhan’s smile, a smile that wasn’t painted and Jongdae only got to know here.

“Mister, are you ready?” The boy’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “I shall escort you.”

He follows the little boy through a courtyard. The blooming flowers on the trees indicate it’s spring; there’s a light breeze in air that shakes the branches, making the color dance under the rays of the morning sun. Jongdae breathes in the scent found in fresh air and thinks that he wouldn’t mind spending a while longer in this place.

“There you are! Lao Gao, I thought you might have taken him somewhere else.” Luhan’s by the frame of one of the rooms. The whole house is made of separate rooms, just like some old Hanok houses from the Joseon Dinasty in Korea. Luhan looks refreshed, even if the night before they went to sleep quite late. His clothes are light blue, with a flowery pattern. It’s similar to what Jongdae is wearing, with the cross collar and tied around the waist. But Luhan seems much more comfortable wearing it than Jongdae ever will. The sight of Luhan leaning against the frame like this with a jaunty expression is another painting Jongdae would like to have.

After walking in, Jongdae is introduced to a man who is already sitting down by the table. He hopes a 90 degrees bow shows enough respect; it’s not difficult to tell this is the man of the house, Luhan’s father. Their jaws are similar, but not the eyes, and there’s nothing to say about the smile, since there isn’t one on the man’s face. As they take their seats next to the man, the servants start placing the food on the table. Everything looks similar to things Jongdae has already tried when he coined Junmyeon into taking him out for dinner in Chinatown.

He looks back up at Luhan, whose back is straight and face is impassive. There’s an uncomfortable air surrounding them.

“Han tells me you’re a scholar from Hanguo. Is that right?” Jongdae nods at the man’s question. “How long have you been traveling around Da Min Huang Chao?”

When Jongdae opens his mouth to reply, he is interrupted by Luhan. “More than a year, father. He hasn’t been in contact with his family for a long time.” Luhan explains. His shoulders are a little less tense now, as he picks up his chopsticks and puts a piece of meat on his father’s bowl. This last bit of information makes his father nod and hum in understanding.

“It’s a pity what you’re people are going through.” There’s a serious tone on the man’s voice. “But we’ll try to help you.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” He says. Luhan makes a short, quick move with his hand, calling his attention. He’s mouthing something. It takes a short time for Jongdae to understand. “Advisor Lu, thank you so much.” The way Luhan’s shoulders drop low in relief is comical and almost makes Jongdae chuckle out a laugh.

The rest of breakfast happens really fast in between bites of food and Counselor Lu’s questions directed at Luhan regarding his studies. Sometimes, Jongdae feels the man’s eyes on him. It’s a careful, calculating stare that makes Jongdae think he suspects something.

“We must go now, father. I promised Scholar Chen I would take him to Wangfuing.” Luhan tells his father, while gesturing Jongdae to stand up too. “We shall get going now.”

His father hums in acknowledgment, being too distracted with that letter that has just arrived before they finished. “Be ready early for tonight. Scholar Chen will be added to the guest list.” Jongdae turns to Luhan questioningly, who dismisses it with a hand gesture. “FeiFei will be there.” There’s an interesting change in Luhan’s posture, but Jongdae has no time to try to guess what it means, when Luhan pulls his arm and takes him away.

“YES, FATHER, I WILL!” He shouts and, then, winces at his own volume.

“What’s happening tonight?” Jongdae asks. He lets himself be lead to the front door of the house.

“There’s a dinner. There will be important people, mostly counselor and people of Huangshang’s Court.” Luhan pretends to be nonachalant about the whole thing, but it’s clear he’s annoyed by it all. Even if Jongdae has known him for a very short time, he can easily tell he’d rather spend his night anywhere else. “There’s also gonna be people from Hanguo. So, we’re gonna see how we can make you blend in.” Then, the familiar spark in Luhan’s eyes returns. “We’re gonna dress you up.” He lets out a loud laugh, right before arriving to the entrance.

There’s a tall, young guy, standing by it. His eyes are slits, narrowed at both of them. There’s something feline about his face features. Jongdae remembers all the times he was called a kitten by Baekhyun; but this guy is more like a tiger ready to attack. He makes Jongdae very nervous, while Luhan seems unaffected by the guy’s aura.

“Zitao!” He shouts almost in the guy’s face. Jongdae realizes more and more how expressive Luhan seems, not so stiff and peaceful like in the portrait. So much more alive.

Zitao seems to be the name of the tall guy, who grimaces at Luhan. “Young Master.” He nods.

“Han. It’s Han for you.” The determination in his voice puts a small smile on the other guy’s face, making it change completely. Jongdae is reminded of his university hoobae, who’s actually the opposite of Zitao, regarding honorifics. Sehun prefers not to show respect in any way unless he needs something from his hyungs. “Zitao is my protector. Not that I need one, but father thinks so. That’s how I ended up with one.” Luhan explains while he crosses the door and starts walking. “Zitao, this is Scholar Chen, he’s gonna be spending some time with us.” Both guys bow at each other after the introductions.

“Han needs protection… protection from himself.” Zitao covers his snicker with his hand, after his own joke.

“I’d be offended. But you referred to me using my name. So I can’t be mad at my little panda.” Luhan coos at Zitao.

They don’t look so much like protector/protégée Jongdae thinks as he walks behind them. The taller of the two seems so much younger now that he got to see glimpses of his true personality. There’s a natural bickering they have that makes Jongdae wonder for how long they’ve known each other.

*

The market is full of people and noise and life. Jongdae feels like he is in a movie studio, shooting one of his favorite chinese films. The voices of street vendors in the stalls are loud, trying to sell their goods, their trinkets, their fabrics to anyone who shows a tiny bit of interest. Stalls are side by side meshing together to create eternal blurred lines of colors. There’s also the smell of delicious food being cooked somewhere near Jongdae, making his mouth water.

He’s so caught up in this place that he forgets for a second that Luhan’s supposed to take him somewhere. Luckily, Luhan notices it and pulls him by the hand. They rush through the market, followed closely by Zitao, to reach a small store, with a dark wooden door.

Once they’re inside, Jongdae sees many different fabrics, mostly silk, with patterns and colors he doesn’t get to see back in Myeongdong, nor Apgujeong Rodeo. A short old man comes into the room, who greets Young Mister Lu with a gentle smile and an appreciative nod at Jongdae. Luhan explains that Scholar Chen needs clothes, especially for tonight, and Jongdae is pushed by the man towards a side of the room and makes him wait. When he returns, he’s holding similar clothings to those Luhan and him are already wearing, but instead of cotton, these ones are made of silk.

The first one he is given is blue, with a flowery pattern. In general, all the patterns seem to be related to nature, as Jongdae notices on the rest of the fabrics that surround him. He changes inside a small room. It’s easy to put on, because it reminds Jongdae of a robe, with a crossed collar and sash to tie it. Afterwards, he shows it to Luhan, who tilts his head to the side and purses his lips. Jongdae stifles a laugh at the thought of Luhan being his rich boyfriend, spoiling him with clothes. It’s ridiculous. Yet, here’s Jongdae, trying on clothes that Luhan will approve or disapprove. But Luhan turns towards Zitao and questions him. The protector shrugs and shakes his head.

“Zitao knows more about this than I do.” Luhan explains. “Honestly, I don’t really care much about this.”

After a few other more “robes”, as Jongdae refers to them, there’s a red one, with fine golden lines that start on the bottom and randomly curl at the top, like thin flames. It gets an instant approval from Zitao and, hence, from Luhan.

“What you were wearing when you first arrived, do people usually wear that?” Luhan whispers in his ear, after they leave the tailor behind. Jongdae glances at Zitao who seems more interested in a woman that walks by him.

“Not really. Those are old clothes I use to sleep in.” Jongdae explains and tries not to blush when he remembers Luhan’s seen him in his boxers. “People wear pants and shirts and sometimes coats when it’s cold.” Luhan’s eyes shine in wonder at all the new words Jongdae is using, mostly because the words were taken from English, so they sound even stranger to Luhan’s ears. “What’s this called?” Jongdae points to the “robe”.

“It’s a Hanfu. It’s what we all use.” Luhan gestures at all the people surrounding them. There are men dressed in cotton Hanfus, just like them. And women seem to have their own version of it. It takes Jongdae’s breath away to see all of this. When he turns back to Luhan, there’s a knowing smirk on the other guy’s face. “Pretty, right?”

Jongdae nods.

There’s a gasp and a squeal coming from behind them. They both turn to find Zitao staring at a stall with want in his eyes, just like a child would look like. Jongdae takes a look at the stall and is surprised by what he sees. There’s a man making drawings with melted sugar on the table. He lets the sugar fall on top of a stick and then twists his wrist to create twirls that give way to a drawing of caramel on the table. Jongdae licks his lips.

“Zitao loves this stuff.” Luhan’s mouth is so close to his ear, his breath touches Jongdae’s skin, making a shiver run down his spine. “It’s kind of expensive.” Then, he pulls away to take money from a satchel and pays the man. Luhan takes the candy and hands it to Zitao, who bows and thanks him. “Want to try it?” Luhan offers. Jongdae fidgets with his fingers. He doesn’t know when he’s going to get another chance to try it. He nods and Luhan grins at him, as he turns back to the street vendor.

“Do you have it there where you’re from?” Luhan questions him, breaking a bit of the tail of a dragon made of sugar that is in Jongdae’s hand.

“Something similar.” Jongdae remembers when he was a little kid how excited he was when he found a bbopki seller on the street. “It’s done with sugar and…” He tries to find a right word for it in mandarin. But there isn’t any. He tries to gesture “powder” with his hands, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. “Uhm…” He groans in frustration, pulling out a laugh from Luhan. Luhan’s eyes wrinkle on the sides and his jaw falls open. It’s not a very pretty sight, but Jongdae finds that he likes it.

“Cute.” Luhan says right after.

*

Out of the main street, after taking a few turns and getting lost in the old city's alleys, they come to a small house, with a big courtyard. There are pots and other kitchen utensils, but there are also other not so common things, like brushes and drying paper on the floor.


Luhan walked into the house as if it were his own, or as if he had been going there since young.


"Yixing!" Luhan calls out. "Lazy jerk! I brought someone to meet you!"


“You call me lazy, when you’re the one sitting on your noble ass all day long.” From a door of the house comes out a young guy. He walks leisurely, shuffling his feet. He looks barely awake, but he still smiles at them. There's a deep dimple on his right cheek.


Luhan huffs. “It’s more than just sitting. It’s studying, I have to learn. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, artist.” Luhan spits the last word out to rile the other guy up, but the smile doesn’t waver. “This is my friend Chen." Luhan introduces him, with a hand on Jongdae's lower back. "He’s arrived yesterday night and will stay for a while. I wanted him to meet you."


The guy, Yixing, takes his time measuring Jongdae with his eyes. Jongdae realizes that Yixing is not as sleepy as he first thought, his eyelids are naturally dropped; his stare is pointed and calculated.


"Nice to meet you." Yixing bows at Jongdae. "I'm Yixing. I've had the misfortune of being Luhan's friend since we were little. It's a burden I must live with." Jongdae gets to see his dimple again accompanied by a tiny smirk right before he bows again. Jongae laughs openly.


"You, rascal!" Luhan steps forward and punches him in the gut. It's not a strong punch, but it's enough to make him groan and bend over. There's a "tsk" sound behind them. Zitao is shaking his head.


Yixing notices him and walks towards him, greeting him with an open arm hug.


There's this sense of camaraderie coming from the three of them. They all seem to come from different places and belong to different classes. But they are close, very close. It makes Jongdae think of Baekhyun's and Chanyeol's bickering, with their loud voices and over the top gestures. The memory makes him feel a pang in his chest, wondering if he'll be able to go back home, back to his friends, back to his life.


"Let's go inside." Yixing leads them to one of the rooms. The inside of the house is well lit; there are more brushes and some jars filled with a ink. Yixing is a painter. There are some of his works scattered all around the room and maybe there are more in other rooms of the house. Most of the paintings are nature related, landscapes, there are water fountains and trees. But with a little more attention to the hidden works, Jongdae can see portraits of people in different positions, with different expressions. There’s a little boy hidden behind the painting of a mountain.

“Yixing is a different kind of artist. He doesn’t work for nobleman. That’s why he’s poor. So I did him a favor, I hired him to paint my portrait.” Luhan explains with a smug expression on his face, taunting his friend.

“And FeiFei’s.” Yixing adds, gesturing to a roll of paper in the back of the room. The painter walks towards it and takes it to show it off; he seems proud of it. FeiFei is a young girl with long hair and soft features. She has a beautiful smile on her face. She looks calm with a soothing expression. Yixing stares at her for a while. “I was hired to paint the portraits of the young couple.” The words take a while to settle in Jongdae’s brain. When they do, he snaps his neck to face Luhan. The other guy is staring at the floor, not interested in that piece of information. “Luhan and FeiFei are betrothed to get married. As you can see on Luhan’s face, he’s not exactly ecstatic about it.” The comment earns him an annoyed sound from the mentioned guy.

The feeling in Jongdae’s chest reminds him of the time when Junmyeon introduced his girlfriend to his groups of friends. She was a pretty girl with a round face, whose features were much less sharper than Jongdae’s and more feminine. Her name was Sunyoung, she was kind and energetic and brought a smile to Junmyeon’s face that Jongdae knew could never bring himself.

“Marriage is nothing more than a political instrument.” Luhan looks straight into Jongdae’s eyes, breaking through the latter’s thoughts. He sounds resigned and there’s a tiredness written in his eyes.

“Han is one of the few romantics who believe in love.” Yixing explains, putting down the painting with a lot of care.

“There’s nothing wrong with FeiFei.” Luhan sits down on the floor and pats the space next to him, for Jongdae to join him. “She’s kind and simple. I wouldn’t mind marrying her, if it weren’t for-… I just don’t feel it.” He lets his fingers play with the hem of his pants; he pulls at it while biting his lip. He looks much younger like this, like a lost boy.

Yixing is staring down at him, pitying him, feeling sorry for him. “The life of a noble.” Then, there’s silence. Zitao is not inside the room with them anymore. Jongdae can’t tell exactly when he left.

“You’re painting Luhan, too?” Jongdae attempts a change in the conversation. It works, since the two other guys smile. Yixing fetches another painting that’s not facing them. There are dirty brushes near it. He can guess what the portrait looks like. Anticipation runs through Jongdae’s veins, as Yixing turns the painting towards them. His heart is beating much faster than it should. He’s already seen it many times before. But this time, he’s seeing it as a work in progress and that makes it different for Jongdae. There are missing brush lines. The eyes of the Luhan in the portrait are dead. It’s weird to not find there what had made Jongdae buy it in the first place. So, he turns towards Luhan and stares at him. The real Luhan has everything that Jongdae had fallen in love when he first saw the painting.

“Does it look like him?” Yixing asks. “I’m almost finished.”

Jongdae nods. It is Luhan, it looks like him. The eyes, the mouth, the scar, everything is there. “Maybe you can work on the eyes a little more.” He suggests. Yixing tilts his head to the side. “Luhan’s eyes sparkle.” He explains.

Yixing stifles a laugh. “Oh! Do they?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice and that, apparently, earns him a punch to the stomach by Luhan. His friend’s cheeks look pink and he tries to disguise his embarrassment by hitting Yixing repeatedly. “Stop it!” Yixing puffs out. “You’re too aggressive for a nobleman.”

“Let’s not be distracted. I brought Chen here to teach him about Hanguo. And you’re gonna help me.”

This makes them all sit down and start a conversation about the place Jongdae is supposed to come from. Yixing proves to be a very useful center of information, since he has traveled there many times and can speak a little of their language. Jongdae listens attentively as Yixing explains that it’s also a monarchy, there’s a King and it can be considered similar to Da Ming Huan Chao. A word catches Jongdae’s attention, though. Yixing tells him that the dynasty of Hanguo is called Joseon by its own people. Jongdae interrupts him abruptly; he asks for him to repeat that.

“How is it called?” He leans closer to Yixing.

“Joseon.” And Jongdae starts laughing. It’s too good to be true. So, he decides to try something.

“What’s their alphabet called?” This time the question is in korean. Jongdae glances at Luhan’s confused face.

“Hangul.” Yixing’s explanation comes naturally, until he realizes the change in the language. A smile forms on his face when they both stare at each other for a short time. It’s not long until they’re both laughing. “So, you’re from there.” His korean sounds a little rough and old. But Jongdae understands him.

“Don’t leave me out of this!” Luhan whines in mandarin on the side.

“Your little friend Chen already comes from Hanguo.” Yixing gestures at the only korean one in the room. Jongdae can’t help smiling at Luhan.

“Why didn’t you say so?” Luhan asks.

“I did. But we don’t call it Hanguo or Joseon, we call it Korea.”

“How did you two meet?” Yixing’s question was expected. What Jongdae didn’t expect was Luhan’s honest answer. The guy explains every detail of their strange meeting, how Jongdae appeared in his bedroom at night. All the while, Yixing’s face seems to be interested and not freaked out. He nods and hums accordingly. “It doesn’t surprise me much…” He mutters under his breath. There’s an amused glint in his eyes.

“How can it not?” Luhan stares at his friend, shocked.

“Strange things can happen.” Both friends look at each other silently. Jongdae feels out of place, but Luhan doesn’t seem to understand exactly what Yixing meant either. They decide to leave the rest of the conversation for later, it seems, since neither of them say anything else. Jongdae is definitely left out. Suddenly, Yixing claps. “So, let’s learn about Joseon.”

The rest of the evening is spent in Yixing’s house talking and learning about the current affairs of Korea, or Joseon, as Jongdae has to force himself to call it. At the dinner party, he will meet people he has to convince he is from their own time and place. The more Yixing tells him about the country, the more Jongdae can tell about what year it is and what Luhan’s father had meant about them sending help. Korea is under a Japanese invasion, Jongdae remembers having studied something about it in History, back when he was in high school. He starts to get excited thinking about the fact he will live through a moment in history. He learns about an Admiral that’s getting more and more respected. When Yixing says his name, Jongdae smiles thinking of Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s statue in Gwanghwamun Square. He thinks of all the times he has walked by it, of all the pictures tourists take of the man standing in front of King Sejong. But, he also learns that this is only the beginning of the story. He learns about Pyongyang being taken by the Japanese. He understands a lot more about the place and time he is in, now. This makes it a lot easier to blend in at the dinner party. He’s less nervous about it and he knows he has Luhan and Yixing by his side, to help him. What was anxiety about being in an unknown place now becomes excitement.

*

As the sun sets, after they’re dressed and ready, they leave Luhan’s house to a dinner party in another nobleman’s house. Advisor Lu is in the carriage before them, by himself. He has made very little effort to learn more about Jongdae, which disappoints him a little bit, since now he feels ready to have a conversation with the man.

Facing each other in the inside of the small carriage, Luhan smiles at him. Jongdae is still not over the way Luhan looks. The nobleman’s son looks just like what he is. He’s wearing a dark purple hanfu made of silk. His posture is different to what he has showed Jongdae during the whole day. There’s an air of sobriety around him, even his mannerisms are different. It’s like seeing an actor backstage before the curtain opens. Yet, his eyes, when they stare at Jongdae, still shine brightly even in the darkness of the night. It makes Jongdae’s belly turn. He wonders if his fascination with Luhan’s eyes is caused by the boy himself or his own mind plays tricks on him. Embarrassed by his thoughts, Jongdae looks down to see the way their robes piling at their feet. There’s something harmonious about the way the fabrics and the colors blend together.

Before he knows it, they stand at the entrance of the house and they are guided by servants to the room where dinner will be held.

Jongdae makes it through the door and is blown away by the ostenticity of it all. There are three large tables across the room, full of food that Jongdae might have never seen before. Everything is well presented and there’s temptation in every dish along the tables. But it’s not just the food. There are people sitting and people standing and they’re all dressed in their best clothing to make sure their status can be read even in the sashes that hold their hanfus.

The way people lean in to talk to each other, while taking bites of the food in front of them, makes Jongdae find familiarity in it all. He has been invited by Junmyeon a few times before to conferences and congresses where the people socialize like this. It’s not about the meal, it’s about the contacts; it’s about showing off your place in this network of connections. The difference is just that this is a house, instead of a conference hall in a hotel. The tables are rectangular, instead of round and taller. And the people wear traditional chinese clothing instead of impeccable tailored suits.

But the main difference between both situations is that Jongdae doesn’t judge them anymore, he’s simply in awe. Amazed by the whole eccentricity of the place, he stands there, without moving his feet, until he feels a nudge on his side. Luhan clears his throat when Jongdae turns to look at him. They are introduced to the room and greeted by those who were paying attention. Advisor Lu seems to be a powerful figure, though. Most men stand up and bow in his direction. Jongdae gets to see the respect some of them show, while others’ greetings seem a little lackluster.

Guided by Luhan’s hand light on his lower back, Jongdae ends up sitting opposite Yixing who smiles and gestures with his face towards a girl sitting next to him. Luhan takes a seat in between them both. When he pays attention to the girl’s face, he realizes that FeiFei is as beautiful as the painting portrayed her. Yixing did her justice. He bows and greets her gently. The smile he gets in return makes him forget the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when he sees Luhan’s leg too close to hers. He reminds himself of two things; Luhan is not interested in her and Jongdae shouldn’t feel this way.

Dinner passes by quickly and the conversation on his side of the table is light and casual. FeiFei’s voice is soothing, just like her personality. Interestingly enough, Jongdae pays close attention to Yixing, who glances at the girl every now and then. Just like Yixing had felt pity for Luhan in the afternoon, Jongdae feels pity for the painter. It’s clear, even for an outsider, how smitten he is with the girl. It must be difficult to see the woman he loves betrothed to his best friend. Jongdae lowers his head and focuses back on his bowl, pretending he doesn’t know anything about this.

Meanwhile, Luhan is oblivious to the love story that is developed around him. Or, at least, he pretends to be. Jongdae lets the lively personality of his new found friend distract him. His laughter is obnoxious and over the top when he is with his friends. There are wrinkles around Luhan’s eyes when he smiles and he’s much more expressive than Jongdae had seen before. It’s contagious and soon he finds himself laughing along.

There’s a man, whose smile is a lot less noticeable, sitting almost in front of FeiFei. He was introduced as Wu Yifan by Luhan and corrected to General Wu Yifan. An old friend of Luhan and Yixing’s, Yifan became one of the youngest generals in the army. The story of how that happened is told between Luhan and Yixing with exaggerated facts of Yifan’s life, embellishing a story about how he led an army through a battle and won seems to be a talent both guys have. Yifan explains that he was only second-in-command, but his superior died in battle and he was then upgraded. Apparently, drunk Luhan and drunk Yixing do not accept that side of the story. Their side of the table laughs louder than they should.

It’s not long before Jongdae has to excuse himself to find a bathroom. He whispers it in Luhan’s ear, asking where it is. He tries to avoid Yixing’s eyes while he feels how close he is to Luhan. When he gets an answer whispered in his own ear, he smells a bit of the alcohol Luhan has drunk, but it’s not unappealing when he also can feel the warmth of Luhans’ breath on his own cheek. When he stands to leave the room, he feels eyes on him. He thinks it could be Yixing, but is surprised to find that the painter is very much distracted by the girl sitting next to Luhan. He lets his eyes wander and meet Luhan’s father. The man’s stare is strong and makes Jongdae shiver.

Once outside, in the fresh air of the night, he feels more at ease. He finds not only servants in the dimly lit courtyard, but also guests mingling and talking in loud voices. Just like Jongdae, everyone seems to be having a nice time.

The bathroom is easy to locate and it also makes Jongdae miss his own home. Now that he has some time to himself, he starts wondering how he got here and maybe, he thinks, it’s time to go back. The image of Luhan so at home with his friends and, even if he doesn’t want it, with FeiFei is enough for Jongdae to remind himself he doesn’t fit here. This is not his place, nor his time.

His thoughts are interrupted by some hushed whispers in the background. As he walks towards the main hall, he starts hearing voices. He doesn’t mean to pry, but the men, as he can tell from the pitch of their voices, are too close to him. Jongdae has always been too curious as his Baekhyun keeps complaining about, even though they’re very much alike. He admits he likes to eavesdrop in other people’s conversations. He doesn’t run to tell anybody, though. Most of the things he hears, he keeps them to himself. This time is not an exception.

With careful steps to where the men are, he steps in the shadows near the building, waiting to see what he understands. The conversation is hurried and confusing for a few moments, until Jongdae catches “Advisor Lu” being said by someone. He forces his hearing to get as much information as he can.

“He is insane. We can’t afford this.” The voice is clearer now, as Jongdae presses his back to the wall. “There’s no point and you know he has the power to make it happen.”

“We’ve had this discussion too many times.” The other voice seems calmer, less anxious. “Worry not. We’re working on it.”

The voices stop and Jongdae hides deeper in the shadows as the men walk further from the place. He takes a few moments to comprehend what little he got from the conversation. Luhan’s father was being criticized, but that’s pretty much all he could understand.

“Scholar Chen?” He recognizes Yifan’s figure and voice. “Did you get lost on the way back?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice.

Jongdae chuckles awakwardly. “Yes.”

“Did you-…” Yifan seems to want to ask something else. “Did you see anyone else around here?” The question makes Jongdae wonder how he would know about that. “Some men walked back inside the room together.” Yifan explains, leaving out other information. There’s suspiciousness in his voice, but Jongdae can’t be sure if it’s directed at the men or at him. “Come walk with me.”

Jongdae follows him to a further place; past the courtyard there’s a garden. They walk slowly in tranquil pace. Wu Yifan seems to have a lot of things on his mind and Jongdae wonders how much he can trust him.

“How did you meet Luhan?” Again, this question is expected.

Jongdae is aware that he showed up out of the blue in Luhan’s life. Lucky for him, they’ve perfected the lie. So, he says it to Yifan. He tells him the story of when Luhan traveled around China, a scholar like himself. They met in the old capital. Jongdae is learning about Da Ming Huan Cho, in order to improve the relationships between both nations. Yifan simply nods.

“Han seems to trust in your company.” The short name shows Yifan is closer to Luhan than what he seemed. It makes Jongdae less nervous about the young General. “I do not know how he became so close to you, but I can see he is interested in your well-being. Are you interested in his?” The question baffles Jongdae for a moment, why would he not be? Yifan is calmly waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I am. We have become good friends in a really short time.” That is not a lie. When he remembers that the day before he went to sleep back in his apartment thinking of the young man in the portrait and now he’s having a joyful dinner with him and his friends, he realizes how little time has passed. It feels like an eternity. He was so distracted by everything new he came to know in this place, he didn’t notice that his brain caught up faster than time itself. “I’ve come to care for Luhan dearly.”

Yifan seems satisfied with the answer. Maybe the honesty could be heard in his voice. “Then, I suggest you pay attention to him and his surroundings. Han’s been my friend for a long time and I worry about him. He is an idealist and a romantic.” Jongdae smiles at that. He’s learned about this side of Luhan the many times he saw the child-like expressions on his face and heard the amusement in his voice. “But he is not aware of certain things. Advisor Lu is a man of strong opinions and different ideas.” Yifan explains as they walk side by side, through a bridge about a small pond.

The night is dark and the dim light of the lanterns spread around the garden is reflected on the surface of the pond.

“It’s easy to make enemies that way. I’m pretty sure you’ve met Zitao.” Yifan continues. Jongdae nods. “There’s a reason he’s with Han…” He doesn’t explain further. “We should get back.”

The walk back is silent and it leaves Jongdae with an uneasy feeling and many thoughts going through his mind. The men who walked into the room together were enough to raise Yifan’s suspicions, but he can’t be entirely sure they were the same as the men Jongdae had heard. The idea of Luhan being in danger makes Jongdae’s stomach turn in a bad way; in very little time, he has become protective of the other guy. The childish demeanor of Luhan makes Jongdae very fond of him, or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

*

One more morning, Jongdae wakes up in what is not his room. Just like the day before, the birds are chirping and it all feels like a dream. Except it isn’t; he can see the silk of the robes he wore the night before. Little by little, the memories of the night before come back to him. He remembers the meal, the people, General Wu, but most of all, he remembers Luhan’s handsome smile in the middle of it all. The palpitations in his chest make him feel like blushing. He knows he shouldn’t be so affected by the other boy, since he doesn’t know for how long he will be staying. Once his brain starts going over his apparition in this place, he can’t stop. There’s the fear of going back and never seeing Luhan again, aside from the portrait, of missing out on Luhan’s smile, on Luhan’s laughter and excitement. There are so many things he’s learned to like of the man he only had seen as a character in a painting.

With a heavy feeling in his chest, he starts the day, deciding to make the most out his stay here. The easiest distraction from the edgy way he’s feeling is Luhan’s voice coming from outside his room, telling him to hurry for breakfast so he can take him somewhere else later.

The first meal of the day is different without Luhan’s father’s staring down at Jongdae. It’s full of light-hearted conversation, gossiping about guests from the night before (Jongdae carefully avoids talking about his own discovery about Yixing). Luhan’s face still has sleepiness written all over it, but it’s not heard in his voice. He sounds fully awake and eager to enjoy this new day with him.

As Luhan leaves to get the horses, right after telling him about this beautiful place he will see, Jongdae is approached by Lao Gao. The young servant comes with a small package in his hand.

“This was handed to me to be given to Young Master. But I can’t find him.” He explains.

Jongdae feels more confident in his mandarin today. “He has left to get the horses, we’re going somewhere.” He eyes the package.

“Would you be so kind to hand it to him, Scholar Chen?” Lao Gao asks.

Jongdae nods and takes the package in his own hands. When the servant leaves, he opens it to find some very tempting pastries, similar to the korean rice cakes Jongdae has grown up eating.

Before he has a chance to taste one, Luhan calls him out. When he comes out the door and tells him about the present, the first thing Luhan asks is who they are from. Since Jongdae doesn’t know, Luhan tell them to leave them for later.

“Now, it’s time for a ride.” Luhan grins at him. “Have you ever ridden a horse, Chen?” There’s a glint of cheekiness in his voice, expecting what is definitely the right answer.

“No, I haven’t.” Jongdae replies.

“I figured.” Luhan is softly patting the neck of one dark brown horse. There’s only one horse for the both of them. Jongdae shakes his head at him. As much as he’s learned to trust Luhan, he seems a little too rushed and anxious to keep a horse under control. “Come on.” The guy holds onto the animal and with a quick, smooth jump crosses one leg over the back. “I’ve been riding since I was twelve.” Jongdae has to admit that the statement makes him feel reassured. But it’s probably how good Luhan looks on top of the horse that makes Jongdae decide to join him, that and the idea of holding onto Luhan’s body. He shakes the thoughts a thirteen year old with a crush would have and tries to will down the rhythm of his heart. His hands are clammy, so he rubs them on his clothing, before taking Luhan’s offered one. The guy pulls him up with just one arm, surprising Jongdae with how much stronger he is than he looks. “You have strong arms…”

The comment by Luhan shocks him a bit and he feels his cheeks flush warmly. He lets out an embarrassed chuckle, looking somewhere else. When he looks back, he finds Luhan turned towards him, staring. It’s only when Jongdae clears his throat that Luhan reacts and they start moving.

It’s the first time Jongdae rides a horse. The way the animal moves and the speed make him feel unsafe, so he grips Luhan’s clothes a little tighter, whinning out loud about handsome chinese nobleman that make him do these sorts of things, in korean. He hides his face between the other man’s shoulder blades. He feels more than he hears Luhan’s laughter and, when Luhan tells him not to be scared, the deep voice comes from within his back, where Jongdae has his ear pressed. It’s soothing, relaxing him into a state of bliss to feel Luhan so close to him. Once he feels better, he lifts up his head to take a look at the ever-changing surroundings. They move past the big old city, the houses become smaller and scarcer. The buildings and people give way to trees and birds as they enter nature’s domain. Jongdae can’t stop being awe over the beautiful forest they’re entering.

He doesn’t know how long the trip takes, but before he knows it, it ends. Luhan takes him to a clearing by a narrow stream of water. When the horse stops abruptly, Jongdae’s hold tightens and Luhan uses his fingers to separate his hand from his own clothing.

“We’re here.” He points at the water running in between the rocks. He gets off swiftly, just like he did when he got on. Jongdae can’t help admiring how athletic Luhan is for a scholar and a nobleman’s son. When he voices his admiration out loud, he gets a smug smile in return. Confidence looks good on Luhan.

They settle on some rocks that are safe from the running water. But Jongdae feels tempted to let the cold water wet his feet to feel that what looks like the scenery of one of Yixing’s paintings is actually real. Carefully taking off Luhan’s borrowed shoes, he tips his toe in. When he pulls his foot back up in a sudden rush of coldness, he hears Luhan giggling by his side. The young chinese boy is grinning at him and Jongdae wants to wipe that smile off his face with a push, so he does. It doesn’t work and it only makes Jongdae join in the laughter. Like a pair of children they stay under the shadow of a big tree enjoying the freedom the place gives them and the food Luhan has brought with him.

“What does it feel like?” Luhan asks out of a sudden. Jongdae turns to him questoningly. “I mean, what does it feel like to be somewhere far from home? Somewhere new?”

Jongdae ponders over his answer for a while. “It’s… interesting. I like it. It’s…” And he opens his hands wide in front of himself but he can’t find the right word. So, he sighs. But Luhan is patient and the smile on his face, encouraging. “Everything is new. Amazing. I’m curious about anything you want to show me… Back home… Back home, I don’t feel this way. I feel tired. What’s the opposite of sweet?” he asks Luhan.

“Salty?”

“No.”

“Bitter?”

“Yes! That’s the word. I feel bitter.” Luhan stares at him in confusion for a few moments, until he nods in understanding. “I don’t feel excitement. I don’t feel… alive. I don’t know why.” Jongdae takes a moment to look at the other boy. “But, when I came here, at first it felt like a dream. Then, it started to feel real, good.” Because of you is left unsaid.

“I wonder what it would be like to go to where you are…” Luhan says more to himself. “I’ve always been curious and wanted to see the world. My mother used to tell me all about some of the places she had been to…” He’s staring into space and crushing a leaf of a close branch under his fingers.

“Your mother… where…?” Jongdae doesn’t mean to pry, but from the moment he’s stepped into Luhan’s life, there’s been an unspoken trust between the two of them.

“She died a few years ago. She loved me as much as I loved her. This place,” Luhan gestures towards the stream, “she used to bring me here when I was little.”

If Luhan were Baekhyun or Chanyeol, Jongdae would have a comforting hand on his shoulder and the right words to say. He feels frustrated about not being able to say what he wants to say. But, when Luhan turns his head towards him and smiles, he understands that company is what the other boy appreciates the most.

“I think the care and affection she showered me in passed on to those that are still around me. Zitao, for example. We used to be childhood friends. We met when he was just a short, cheeky kid. But when he grew taller and started training, after my mother died, my father asked him to become my protector.” There’s a fondness in Luhan’s voice, when he reminisces over young Zitao. “I understand why…” He continues. “I am aware of it. It’s funny how everyone thinks of me as just a gullible child.” A new leaf gets crushed.

“You do look like one.” Jongdae says lightly, hoping to break through Luhan’s unexpected gloomy mood.

Luhan pushes him away. “I shouldn’t have let you spend so much time with Yixing.” He glares at Jongdae.

“Why is-… why does your father…?” Jongdae can’t stop himself from asking.

“An Advisor to the emperor is a powerful man, whose ideas are to be considered and probably followed. My father, as you’ve already seen, is very supportive of Hanguo and keeping good relations with it. Unfortunately, that means helping Hanguo to defend itself from the invasion. That involves a war, a war that Yifan, General Wu, also supports.” Luhan takes off his own shoes and, carefully steps into the water, with the hem of his pants rolled up. “But not everyone thinks the same way. Some people think that we are not strong enough to go to war. Those people want to stop him by finding a weak spot… what my mother was, a few years ago.” He turns around, facing Jongdae. “Even if I’m against war, I do believe in my father and Yifan.”

When he finishes speaking, Jongdae can see he’s expecting something from him.

“I think Hanguo needs all the help it can get.” Staring at Luhan in the eye as he says it, he can see the chinese boy feels relieved.

Luhan, then, changes the subject. “Do you think I would like Hanguo?”

Jongdae leans back with his arms stretched behind him. “It depends. Which Hanguo do you mean? My Korea or your Hanguo?” He tilts his head to stare at Luhan’s smile.

“Your Korea.”

“I think you would like it. You’d enjoy seeing the different things. If you were there with me, I would take you to Yeouido by metro. Since we’d go from my home, we’d cross over the Han River and you’d get to see it and all the bridges that cross it. At night, I’d take you to the Banpo Bridge to see the rainbow fountain show. I’d take you to some bars-“

“Bars?” Luhan looks confused.

“Where you can drink lots and lots of alcohol.” Jongdae smiles.

“I’d like that.” Luhan nods.

*

In the afternoon, the return to Luhan’s home is peaceful, calm. They’re both still enjoying the pleasure of the intimate talk the stream allowed them. The horse’s pace is tranquil and unrushed. As Jongdae holds onto Luhan’s waist, he thinks that maybe, maybe he could stay here forever.

“Where were you?!” Zitao runs towards them, as soon as they reach the house. “We’ve been worried about you, Han! Are you ok?” There’s panic in Zitao’s voice that Jongdae hasn’t heard before. The taller man glances his way, but focuses again on Luhan.

“We went to the stream. You know where I am when I want peace and quiet. What’s the problem?” Luhan tells him, while descending from the horse and helping Jongdae.

“Your father has berated me for not being with you!” Zitao is shaking in agitation. The fear in his face is evident. That’s when both Luhan and Jongdae realize that something’s wrong.

“What happened?” Luhan’s voice is lower than normal. He’s trying to control it, just like the rest of his body. His back is very stiff, making his shoulders straight. It’s a change from the usually playful and animated Luhan that Jongdae has gotten to know.

“Lao Gao is sick.” Zitao says. He turns around, motioning for them to follow him.

They walk towards the furthest rooms in the house, the servant’s rooms. They’re smaller, tighter; the air is a little bit stiffer. There’s not much space for more than a couple of beds and some small tables.

In a corner, there’s the chubby kid Jongdae met the first morning, which seems so long ago. There’s a woman tending to him, with a wet cloth on his head. There’s also a bucket near the bed.

Luhan rushes to the kid and gets ahold of his hand, caressing it gently. The beautiful features of Luhan’s face express his worry. Jongdae hasn’t had much interaction with the young servant. But he can see he’s very dear to the household, since it’s not only Luhan who’s concerned but also, Zitao.

“What happened?” Luhan asks while brushing the hair from the boy’s forehead. The woman has moved away to give him space.

“He claimed he was feeling sick, suddenly, and started throwing up. Then, we found out he had eaten some candy.” Zitao explains.

Jongdae’s head snaps in the protector’s direction. It’s easy to connect the dots, the candy for Luhan. The nobleman’s son was meant to eat that candy. It was a dangerous thing that could cost the life of young Lao Gao now. Jongdae can only look at the two people in front of him and hope the boy will be fine. Luhan doesn’t need another loss in his life.

“The doctor came right in time.” Zitao adds. “He’s said that since little Gao has already gotten rid of the worst part, he’ll be fine. He didn’t eat much candy, fortunately.”

“You silly kid.” Luhan looks at the agonizing boy, whose breathing is harsh. There’s tenderness in Luhan’s words and actions. It makes Jongdae think that his mother might have been like that too.

*

After they leave Lao Gao’s room, Luhan takes Jongdae to a different one in the house, far from the bedrooms.

“This is my favorite room in the house.” Luhan explains, pulling the door open. At first sight, the structure is similar to the other rooms Jongdae has seen, white walls, small windows, some sparse furniture. But there’s something different. There are rolls of paper spread all over the floor. Jongdae can see some jars of ink on a short table, and quills.

But, what Luhan heads to is something that Jongdae hadn’t realized was there. It definitely looks like a stringed instrument. It’s quite big, long and rectangular-shaped. Although it seems heavy, Luhan moves it with ease. He sits down on the floor and sets the instrument over his crossed legs. Sitting like this, with the old instrument, dressed in traditional clothing, Luhan is another painting Jongdae would like to have.

“This is my study room. I come here to learn and also enjoy certain of my other hobbies.” He explains as he touches a few of the strings and tunes in the instrument. It looks like a korean gayageum. “My father wants me to focus on politics only, but my mother always insisted on me expanding my interests. She taught me herself how to play.”

“What’s it called?” Jongdae walks closer.

Luhan looks at him and smiles. With a motion of the hand, he invites Jongdae to take a seat in the space in front. Jongdae sits down.

“Guzheng.” Luhan tells him.

The first few chords echo in the silent room. Luhan’s fingers are fluid over the strings, making the sound swirl around the room swiftly. Jongdae finds himself surrounded by the music and entranced by Luhan. The guy is engrossed in his own world, until he lifts up his head and looks at Jongdae. Then, he smirks. It makes Jongdae embarrassed because his face probably has said more than his words ever could.

When Luhan’s soft voice joins in the music, Jongdae feels like he’s falling. The voice is very steady and rich and it matches the stringed sounds perfectly. Jongdae dreams of listening to Luhan singing for a really long time.

But, before he knows it, the song ends. Jongdae claps and expresses his admiration, seeing a faint blush in Luhan’s cheeks. The confidence that was there just a few moments ago is gone now, leaving behind a cute, shy Luhan.

Jongdae asks him about the song. Luhan explains that it talks about a man who falls in love, at night under the moonlight, with a woman in a white dress that he sees from afar in a garden. The man loves her, even if he has never seen her face. He spends his nights trying to find that woman in the white dress lost in between the trees and the plants and the flowers; but he never seems to reach her, no matter how fast he runs. At the end of the song, the man finally catches up, only to realize that what he was chasing after was nothing more than a moonbeam, the light that brought a dream.

“Did your mother teach you to sing?” Jongdae asks.

“No. Actually, it was a scholar from Hanguo who did. A man who came to stay home for a year, a guest of my father’s. Do Kyungsoo. He was very kind, but shy at first. One day, when I was walking near his room, I heard an unknown melody and a smooth voice singing. He had one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard.” Luhan’s hands stay on the instrument, not playing, but simply caressing it. “I insisted he taught me, I wanted to be able to sing like him.” Then, he looks back up at Jongdae and smiles.

“You have a lovely voice.”

“Do you sing, Chen?” Luhan is staring at him, contemplatively.

Jongdae has always prided himself in his voice. He has impressed a lot of people with it, including Junmyeon. He considers that the least he should do, for Luhan’s hospitality and help, is sing for him.

“I do. Do you want to hear me sing?”

Luhan nods enthusiastically, bringing back the image of a child that he sometimes shows.

Jongdae closes his eyes. He steadies his breathing and starts singing. He lets it flow just like Luhan did a few moments ago. The korean sounds curl inside his mouth in a familiar way; he’s missed them. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Luhan’s enraptured face. That only makes him smirk, the same way Luhan did before.

When he’s done, he waits for Luhan, who can’t close his mouth, to say something.

“So?”

“Wow! Is everyone in Hanguo a good singer?” Luhans claps still amazed.

“Probably.” Jongdae replies with a cheeky smile.

Suddenly, he realizes that there’s not an instrument in between them anymore and that Luhan is much, much closer than he thought. He gulps down when he takes notice of this. He can see Luhan’s eyes follow the movement of his throat. It’s late in the evening now, and the sky is almost dark outside, but Jongdae can still see Luhan’s dark eyes. He can still see his pink lips, being slowly licked, and the small scar beneath the lower lip, that Jongdae has always been fascinated with. It’s so close. He could lean in and steal a kiss, a shy one. Luhan seems to be thinking the exact same thing, since he’s already leaning in. The beating of Jongdae’s heart is so loud in his own ears he can’t hear anything else. Luhan is so close now.

A loud noise from outside startles them both and they separate abruptly. Agitated sounds come from behind the door of the room. Confused, Luhan steps away from Jongdae to listen more closely. Jongdae stands still; he’s still a bit shaken from the intimacy of their previous moment. But Luhan, on the other hand, seems to have forgotten it. His eyebrows are furrowed, while he places his ear on the door. The room is much darker than before and, since there are no lighted candles, no one outside would know they’re there. That gives Jongdae a false sense of safety.

When rushed footsteps come closer to the room, Luhan turns to Jongdae, motioning at him to hide.

“Han?” Zitao’s voice comes as a whisper. Luhan opens the door to let him in. The taller boy hugs his protégée. “You’re ok. Good. There’s been a break in, there are people around. Stay hidden here.” Jongdae can see Zitao turning his head towards him. “Both of you. I’ll take care of this.”

“No! I’m going with you! I can help!” Luhan says louder than he should.

“Han, a few playful fights with me are not enough training.” Then, he looks at Jongdae. “Don’t let him leave.”

Jongdae steps forward to take Luhan’s hand in his, assuring Zitao that he’ll do it. When Luhan tries to follow the protector out the door, Jongdae pulls his arm.

“Let me go, Chen.” Luhan’s voice sounds strained, worried.

“No.”

Suddenly, there’s a high pitched scream loud in the silent night. A woman, maybe a servant. Luhan struggles to get free, but Jongdae pulls him back into his own chest and covers his mouth with a hand.

“I’m not letting you go and get hurt.” Jongdae is stronger than he looks, so Luhan has no choice but to stay still. Pressed like this, Jongdae can feel Luhan’s shivering. It’s not a cold night, so it must be an effect of the confusing chaos that’s going on outside. There’s the sound wood being broken, paper torn, footsteps, voices, some shouting. And all the while Luhan and Jongdae are inside a dark room, not knowing what’s going on or who’s getting hurt.

The last final straw is the voice of a servant begging for mercy to someone outside the door. The person is crying, their voice is hoarse and Luhan’s body stiffens in Jongdae’s arms. In a sudden move, he sets himself free and runs outside. The door creaks loudly in the middle of the chaos.

After having followed Luhan, Jongdae finds an older man on his knees in the middle of the path, while Luhan has taken the attacker down. Surprisingly, Luhan is straddling him to the floor, using the attacker’s own fighting stick against him, pressing down his neck. The man is coughing and thrashing, trying to get rid of the smaller guy. Without Jongdae noticing, another attacker all dressed in black to blend into the night steps in and hits Luhan’s head.

Before he knows it, Jongdae rushes in to help Luhan. But there’s not much he can do, but hold on to the other man’s back and try to keep his arms locked on his sides. Fortunately, the familiar voice of Zitao is calling out Luhan’s name. Taking the opportunity, Jongdae turns around allowing Zitao to kick the man’s stomach.

Jongdae lets him fall down and turns to tend Luhan, who is on the floor, but conscious. The servant is nowhere to be seen now. Jongdae moves Luhan away to lean on a nearby tree, while watching Zitao fight both attackers.

“He’s hurt.” Luhan murmurs, while he tries to stand up again. But Jongdae pulls him back down.

Then, he takes a good look at Zitao. The boy is limping; his right leg seems weaker than his left. Still, there’s agility in the way he moves around the other men. This is not the boy that got excited about candy at the market; this is the man that is meant to protect Luhan.

As one of the attackers kicks Zitao on the shoulder, the other hits him on the stomach with his stick, making him bend and Luhan shout. Luhan’s voice cracks. This time Jongdae lets him run to help. But before they can do anything, there are men coming their way, ordering the attackers to stop. Zitao is left to fall helplessly to the ground; Luhan rushes to his side.

Jongdae stares at the newcomers from the side. The clothes they are wearing make Jongdae thinks they are related to an official. When Luhan’s father steps from behind them, Jongdae realizes he was right. They seem to be the Guard. Advisor Lu steps forward to the surrendered men, kneeling on the ground.

“You will be executed for treason.” He simply says in a cold voice that holds no mercy. The moon lights up his face and Jongdae can see the man stares at his son, who is holding Zitao in his arms. The protector looks in a lot of pain.

“I will take care of the attackers, Advisor Lu. You should tend to your son and protector Hwang.” General Wu’s tall figure comes out of nowhere. As he walks closer, he orders his men to take the attackers and take them with the others. Apparently, these weren’t the only ones.

*

Once Zitao is left to recover from his injuries in his own room, Luhan’s father calls them for dinner. Unlike the first breakfast, there’s not much food. The whole household is still in shock and trying to get back to normal, in spite of the traces the attack has left.

“Zitao’s told me you’ve helped in keeping Han safe. I thank you for that. We appreciate all of your help.” The man nods in Jongdae’s direction, who bows a politely as possible. Luhan smiles at him from across the table, while he chews on a piece of meat. He looks better now, less pale than he did when they took Zitao to his own bed.

“Thanks to General Wu’s help, not only have we been able to catch the men who did the attack, but also the ones who were behind it.” He adds.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all of this because of me, father” Luhan looks upset, apologetic, as if he were the one to blame. Face lowered, he plays with the food on his bowl.

“It’s you who go through this because of me, son. Sometimes, I feel I can’t protect you the way your mother did.” The man is staring at his son, openly showing his concern. It’s a huge scare to think he could have lost his son for the same reasons he lost his wife.

Jongdae feels like an intruder in this intimate moment between father and son. But, when he looks at Luhan, the other guy’s eyes shine bright, telling him that he’s thankful for Jongdae’s presence.

The rest of dinner happens in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Luhan’s father must have his own worries regarding not only his son, but also his stand on matters of the war. As for his son, in the little time Jongdae got to know him, he got to see how much he worries for the people closest to his heart. His mind must be on Zitao’s and Lao Gao’s bedside.

Meanwhile, Jongdae thinks of home. He is still not sure if he wants to stay or go back. There are many reasons to go back, but there’s a really strong reason to stay. As he attentively watches Luhan’s face, he looks at the handsome features he has spend days and days staring back at home, when Luhan was just a boy in a portrait. It was so easy for the small infatuation to grow into something bigger once he got to know the cheeky, playful, curious guy behind the beautiful face.

That same guy now looks back at him and smiles. And, his eyes sparkle, like they’ve done so many times before when they were just a few brushes on a paper.

Dinner is interrupted by Yifan’s presence, who deeply bows towards Luhan’s father in greeting.

“Advisor Lu, it’s been taken care of. I am here to discuss other issues, if it’s possible.” He glances at both Luhan and Jongdae, who hastily stand up to leave them to their private conversation. “I have something to tell you.” Yifan whispers in Luhan’s ear before they leave the room.

*

Together, they silently walk towards Jongdae’s room. The moon is still bright and shinning above them, lighting every step they take and casting their shadows on the ground. Some cicadas are singing their songs in the background.

When they reach Jongdae’s room, Luhan stops by the door, not daring to look up. He’s worrying his lower lip, there’s something he wants to say. So, Jongdae waits, because he knows Luhan can be straightforward when he wants to.

“Can you-...? Can I stay the night with you?” When he finally looks into Jongdae’s eyes, he is pleading. There are traces of fear in his eyes, he is afraid to be alone this night. The events of this evening have shaken him, it is difficult to feel safe again, when his home has been breached and his loved ones, hurt.

“Sure. But let’s go to your room.” Jongdae assures him with a smile that he doesn’t have a problem in keeping him company. He walks inside to take the clothes that Luhan has lent him on the first night. Then, they head back to Luhan’s bedroom.

Luhan seems in a better mood now; he chats and tells Jongdae about how Lao Gao seemed better when he went to check up on him. Also, he explains that Zitao is strong, as if Jongdae didn’t already know this, so he’ll recover quickly. There is hope in his voice; Luhan turns again into the guy Jongdae first met when he got here, excited and cheerful. Although, sometimes his thoughts stray a bit from the words coming out of his mouth and he stops, to start his sentences again. When that happens, Jongdae places a hand on Luhan’s shoulder blade, rubbing it lightly.

When they reach Luhan’s room, Yifan is waiting for them by the door, looking a bit nervous. He’s moving his hands around, mouthing something. It would be funny if it weren’t for the fact that it seems to be a serious issue. He holds a roll of paper in his hand.

Luhan clears his throat to let him know they are there. Surprised, Yifan’s head snaps towards them.

“Hey.” He greets them.

“What are you doing here?” Luhan invites him inside his room with a gesture, but Yifan declines.

“I have something to tell you…” His voice trails off. He seems to not know how to say it.

“Should I leave?” Jongdae suggests, thinking that maybe he’s unwanted in this conversation.

“No, It’s ok. Stay.” Yifan gathers courage. “It’s about Yixing… He’s gone, his house is empty. Some things are missing, probably taken by him. When I last talked to him, he hinted something about leaving, but I didn’t think it would happen.”

Jongdae takes a look at Luhan, whose face looks paler in the moonlight. With his mouth haging open, he seems truly surprised by the unexpected news. This time, Jongdae dares to do more and takes his hand, holding it tight. Luhan looks down at their linked fingers and shows him a tiny smile.

“Did he-…? What did he say?” He asks.

“Nothing much, just that he was looking for another place to live. I thought he was going to simply move to a new home. But… that’s not all…” Yifan hesitates. “FeiFei is gone too. I have a feeling that they’ve left together.”

Clearly, the news of FeiFei shock Luhan, but he’s not as affected by that as he is by Yixing’s departure.

“He only left something for you.” Yifan, then, hands the roll of paper he was holding. Both Luhan and Jongdae can guess what that is, they’ve seen it before and Luhan has even been expecting it.

“Thank you, Yifan.” Luhan takes the painting in his hands and bows quickly at the General.

“You know… I’m here, right?” Luhan nods thanking him.

After Yifan leaves them, they enter the room. They light a few candles in silence, bringing light to the room. Jongdae is curious about the painting, although he doesn’t want to say anything yet. They get dressed, with their backs turned.

“How are you feeling?” It’s Jongdae who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know.” Luhan says in all honesty. “I’m not mad, I’m just worried. My father won’t like this. If anyone finds out they left together, it could cost their lives.” He sits down on the floor, crossing his legs. His hands naturally find the hem of his pants. “I hope he stays far away and he’s not found.”

It must be hard to lose a best friend just like this. Jongdae can’t help thinking about what he would do if Baekhyun or Chanyeol left him. Maybe this is what happened with Jongdae. Maybe he’s been away for two full days and his friends can’t reach him. He wonders how worried they must be, his family too.

He sits down next to Luhan to take his hand away from his clothing, keeping their fingers linked.

“Don’t leave me.” Luhan looks at him. “Don’t leave.” He pleads.

As much as it breaks his heart, Jongdae can only be honest. “I can’t promise that. You know I can’t. You still have Yifan, Zitao… Lao Gao, your father. You’re not alone.” Jongdae pulls Luhan’s hand into his own lap, playing with his fingers, as a way of showing him he’s still here, for now.

“I wish you would stay, though.” Luhan leans closer to him, gazing into his eyes. It makes Jongdae’s heart beat faster. It brings him back to this afternoon, before the attack, when they were both in their own little bubble inside Luhan’s study room. Nothing can interrupt them this time, and even if Jongdae doesn’t really know how Luhan feels, he knows wants to taste his lips; he doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance. So, he leans closer. From up close, every detail that Jongdae has memorized from the painting looks even better, from his lashes, to his lips, to the scar. He’s stunningly handsome. And Jongdae wants to kiss him.

Freeing his hands from Jongdae’s grasp, Luhan cups his face and closes the distance. The first touch of their lips is tentative, shy, testing the limits of what they’re allowed to do. When Jongdae puts his hands on Luhan’s waist and pulls him closer, the kiss gets deeper. Licking Luhan’s lower lip, permission is willingly granted quickly. Jongdae leans back on the floor; with Luhan on top of him, they continue to let their mouths get to know each other. Luhan kisses like he talks, playfully, rushed, excitedly. Jongdae kisses like he listens to Luhan, patiently, curiously, amazed.

After some time, they both need to breathe and it’s Luhan who parts away first to gasp deeply. Their bodies are still fitting each other, sprawled on the floor, over the messed up blankets. Luhan’s face, lighted by the candlelight, tainted pink, with puffy lips and glazed eyes, is another painting, a more intimate one, one Jongdae wouldn’t really show anyone, but keep all to himself.

Then, Luhan grins, before pepper kissing Jongdae’s face, making him giggle into the silent night. When he moves off Jongdae, they stay on their sides, holding hands in between their bodies. It’s nice to spend their time together like this.

“I really wish you could stay with me, Chen.” Luhan, finally, says.

“Jongdae.”

“Huh?” He looks very confused.

“My name is Jongdae. Jong-Dae.” He explains.

“Why didn’t you correct me?” Shocked and a little offended, Luhan pokes his stomach.

Jongdae just laughs. “I didn’t want to, I was okay with it. Just being here with you was enough to make me happy.” Luhan is looking at him questioningly. “I have seen your face before coming here. I bought a painting some time ago. A painting of a handsome boy. One night, on a night like this, I looked at it and it moved.” Luhan props his head on his hand, staring intently at him. “Suddenly, I found myself in the same room as this boy, dressed in those clothes.” He adds, pointing at what Luhan is wearing.

“A painting?” Luhan glances at the portrait that is still rolled up. Quickly, he stands up, brushing off his clothes, to head to the painting. “This one?”

“Yes.” Jongdae walks to his side.

The portrait is finished; it’s the same one he has in his living room, minus the effects of time. This Luhan looks like the Deer that called Jongdae’s attention back at the auction. But, now, in comparison to the real Luhan that is standing next to him, the Deer falls short in beauty. Jongdae’s hands find Luhan’s waist from behind, hugging him tightly against his chest. The Luhan he is holding is breathing and his heart beat can be felt through the soft fabric of his clothes, when one of Jongdae’s hands finds it. This is the Luhan Jongdae wants. He places a soft kiss on his Luhan’s cheek.

“You look better in person.” He assures him in a whisper, close to Luhan’s flushed ear.

“Good. Although, Yixing’s talented.” Luhan turns around with a smile, that suddenly falls when he faces Jongdae. “No. No.” He whispers.

Jongdae steps back. “What?”

The air feels different and, when he takes a look around, he knows it’s happening again. The colors are changing. He can see the orange of the candle light give way to a dark blue he already knows too well, yellow to grey. He can picture certain things taking their shape around him. And when he looks up at Luhan he can see how he’s fading away, the echo of his voice saying “no” follows Jongdae to his own apartment. Luhan’s face stiffens and is now turned, the position Jongdae has already memorized.

“NO! LUHAN! No, please…” His voice cracks, as he steps forward, only to feel a sharp sting on his foot. He looks down to find a broken glass, the spilled water surrounding it. It hurts but not as much as seeing Luhan’s face back on the portrait. The moon lights up the painting enough to see that it’s not the same boy he fell for. This time, the ‘Deer’ is not alive.

When he looks down at his sole, he finds a tiny piece of glass, piercing through his skin. He makes the mistake of pulling it out, letting a thin trail of read flow, along with the tears in his eyes. He drops the bit of glass and steps away, from the broken pieces, from the wall, from Luhan. He takes a look around; it makes his head dizzy to find himself once again at home. His chest is constricting, his breathing speeds up, trying to take as much air as he can, his eyelids feel tired, closing. He feels exhausted. It’s a struggle to keep himself grounded, so he steps back towards the couch and plops down, before he loses consciousness.

*

Jongdae doesn’t wake up to birds chirping. When morning comes, the sound he hears is familiar and far; his alarm is low, coming from a far off place. He scrambles off the bed to search for his phone, only to realize he’s on the couch. He runs to turn off the alarm, finding his phone on the night table. Then, he sits down on the bed. The newly found silence lets his brain catch up. He feels pain on the sole of his foot. There’s dried blood on his skin. But that’s not the most shocking thing.

When he looks down at his feet, he is able to see he’s not wearing his usual sleeping clothes; he’s wearing the same clothes Luhan took from a trunk and lent him. The hem of the long white pants reaches to his ankle, covering a big part of his foot. Higher than that, the upper piece of clothing is skew, with the sash mildly loose. He takes it in his hands and fixes it. Getting up from the bed, he shuffles towards his bathroom. His mind and his movements are lethargic, slow. One look in the mirror tells him he’s not dreaming. He really is wearing ancient Chinese clothing. He splashes water on his face and rubs his eyes. These are Luhan’s pajamas. Luhan.

He rushes back to the living room, forgetting once more about the pain under his foot. Luhan is still there. The morning light has taken away the spell the moonlight gave him. The boy inside the painting is nothing but a shadow of what Jongdae has gotten to know.

He feels empty, floating. It’s a weekday and Jongdae has to get ready for work. His morning routine is automatic, change his clothes, take a shower, brush his teeth, drink coffee. He’s still not grasping the idea of having met Luhan, of having seen him with his own eyes, having heard him, having kissed him. Unconsciously touching his lips, the memories of his time with Luhan pass through his mind. He folds Luhan’s clothes and puts them on a shelf inside his closet.

Although, his eyes feel weird, hot, almost burning, he can’t seem to cry when he leaves home for work. There’s emptiness in his chest, he can’t bring himself to care or pay attention to his surroundings. Work goes on like usual. What took two days in Luhan’s China was nothing in present Seoul. He can’t grasp this, he can’t understand this.

*

The following days seem more like a dream than Jongdae’s time with Luhan ever did. Life with Luhan was vibrant and dynamic, full of new discoveries, a beautiful smile and Jongdae’s will to enjoy himself. The air was fresh and gave him energy, unlike the smog that covers Seoul’s tallest buildings. It all looks grey and gloom, like Jongae’s mood.

The first one to comment on it is Baekhyun, who suggests a night out, without fully understanding what’s wrong with his friend. “Whatever’s putting you down can be solved with a beer and a bar in Hongdae.” He says, while rubbing circles with his palm on Jongdae’s back.

“No, it’s… Ok. I’ll go.” The dejected answer makes Chanyeol and Baekhyun look at each other. They’re not used to such an unenergetic Jongdae.

Normally, he would be ready for a night of alcohol and rock music at some hidden bar, chatting with his friends, letting the taste of somaek blur his senses and forget any day’s events. But, this time, he mindlessly dresses up. There’s very little care in what he looks like, since Luhan won’t be there to look at him. He remembers when he put on his red hanfu, the way Luhan’s face lighted up and he asked for Zitao’s approval. When he takes the metro, there’s no one sitting in front of him, there’s no Luhan.

But, when he comes out Exit 9 of Hongdae Station, Baekhyun and Chanyeol are waiting for him. Baekhyun is sitting on the veranda by the stairs, swinging his legs back and forth and barely reaching Chanyeol’s shoulders’ height. “Ready?” The taller of his friends pats his back, as Jongdae nods.

The bar is exactly what Jongdae has always liked, it’s downstairs, a small black door as entrance. The place is dark, filled with some rock music Jongdae can’t quite identify, but has always enjoyed nonetheless. This time it’s hard to listen to the chords of a guitar and not remember Luhan playing the Guzheng. Before he keeps on thinking about a chinese guy who’s probably been dead for a few years, if he ever really existed (Jongdae still has his doubts, no matter what the pajamas inside his closet tell him), he heads to the bar. He always starts his nights with a bottle of beer, this time is no different.

When he walks to the table, three bottles in hand for his friends and him, he sees Junmyeon sitting on the table. Sunyong looks beautiful next to him, simple makeup and a charming smile. Jongdae doesn’t feel jealousy, nor envy. He just feels happy, they look good together. Junmyeon greets him with a big smile plastered on his face, which Jongdae reciprocates.

It’s so easy to fall into the mindless chatter the table full of people creates. They’re soon joined by a tall, lanky guy. Sehun takes a seat next to Jongdae.

Jongdae finds himself in the same role he had the night of the dinner back in China, with Luhan, an observant, an outsider who sees everything, who takes in the signs of Sehun’s glances at Baekhyun, who finds Sunyoung to be pretty like FeiFei but in a different way. He’s missing Luhan by his side. But when Sehun clinks his own bottle with Jongdae’s, nudging him to drink up, he doesn’t feel lonely. He lets the music, his friends and the alcohol take the pain away, only to bring back the good memories he has with Luhan.

“Nice to see your smile, again.” Chanyeol’s breath hits his cheek, as he whispers in his ear. “What’s got you smiling like this?” He raises his eyebrows in question.

“Nothing, just… I’m good.” He winks at Chanyeol, earning him a squeeze on his thigh, under the table.

If Luhan were here, he’d be drinking all the soju on the table, just to have a taste of it and get a little drunk. Luhan would laugh at Baekhyun’s jokes and play games with the guys. Because Luhan was (is) sociable, cheerful and he enjoys every moment he has with his friends. Maybe, Jongdae should do the same.

“TO FRIENDSHIP!” Jongdae shouts after the third glass of somaek and one drink that had vodka and juice, with a name Jongdae can’t recall. Cliché as it may seem, the group of mostly drunk people clink their glasses together.

When they play darts, they’re joined by one of Sehun’s friends, a tall guy, with full lips and a piercing stare, who laughs light-heartedly when Jongdae’s dart misses the target, by a lot. Any other time, Jongdae might have flirted with him, but tonight he just wants to enjoy things as they are. So, he leaves Jongin for some other interested souls. Luhan’s face pops up in his mind, before another glass is handed to him by a giggling Baekhyun.

Junmyeon, the kindest man Jongdae has known, before Luhan, maybe, brought his car. Jongdae tells him his opinion out loud, hoping his words don’t mesh together too much. As he gets inside the car, behind where Sunyoung is sitting, he waves at his friends. The trip doesn’t last long, but it’s long enough to have Junmyeon making a comment about Jongdae’s mood the last few days.

“I’m ok.” Jongdae dismisses Junmyeon’s worries. “I’ve come to a revelation tonight.”

He hears Junmyeon’s whispering “Oh, God.”

Between the second glass of somaek, Jongin’s smile and Chanyeol’s hand supporting him from falling off his chair, he’s realized how different it was to be with Luhan, not just because of the chinese guy, but also because Jongdae himself was different. He needs a new perspective in life. He’s seen the carefree way Luhan lived; it was contagious to be that way. Luhan saw his world differently from how Jongdae sees his own. Luhan knew about what life had in store for him, yet he decided to show Jongdae the places, the people, the things that brought him joy. All Jongdae has to do is to find Luhan’s point of view within himself.

“Are you gonna tell us?”

“I think we’ve lost him. He’s smiling at the window.” Sunyoung’s voice is soft, fond.

*

Waking up to a pounding headache at noon on a Sunday is not the best way to wake up. The memories of the night before, as many as he can get, rush back. Luhan’s eyes shine bright behind Jongdae’s closed eyelids. He stretches in bed a little, before patting the night table for a glass of water he left the night before.

There is no haste in his morning routine; he takes his time to overcome the hungover, slowly making a simple lunch. When he takes the rice out of the cooker, he gets the idea of looking a few things up on the internet. He knows a bit of what time it was when he spent those days in Luhan’s time. He remembers the afternoon in Yixing’s house, learning about his own country.

Turning on his laptop on the table, while he picks on his kimchi, he thinks of what he should look up first. He narrows down the date, he finds the Chinese Dinasty he was in. A search on Naver gives him a lot of information about the Siege of Pyongyang in 1593, he remembers Yixing telling about the city having been taken by the Japanese. He reads about the emperor of the Ming Dinasty, his eyes scan every text his finds in search of one specific family name. Advisor Lu is never named. He tries to find about him, separately, but still nothing.

Hopeless, he types in Luhan’s name on the search engine. No results. There’s no information on Luhan; he left no traces in history. Yet, Jongdae can’t forget him, his sparkling eyes and lilting laughter, his secure touch whenever Jongdae needed it, his soft lips, the way he looked at him.

When he’s done with his meal, he walks into the living room, to look at the portrait. It’s not his Luhan anymore. The boy inside the painting seems like a stranger, the lines on his face look lighter. All the things Jongdae fell in love with when he first saw it seem so dull now. The Luhan in the painting doesn’t make Jongdae’s living room light up.

“What happened to you?” The question has both meanings; what happened to the painting and what happened to the real Luhan. Jongdae guesses he won’t really know.

As he stares at it for a few more minutes, he realizes it’s changing. The skin of the boy turns whiter and whiter until it blends in with the rest of the paper. The hair goes through the same. All of Luhan’s face features start to fade away, slowly, until the whole painting is nothing but a framed white paper.

“What the-?” Jongdae rushes to it, to touch it. He doesn’t feel the anything under his fingers, unlike he did the first time he touched it. All his fingertips come in touch with is dry paper and nothing else.

“Luhan…” Jongdae’s voice comes merely as a whisper. He grips the frame and takes it off the wall. Sitting on the couch, he still caresses the empty painting. His ribcage is closing inside of him; he feels his eyes watering until the tears fall on the place where Luhan used to be. The paper turns darker when it comes in touch with Jongdae’s tears. He clutches it against his chest, trying to make himself take deep breaths, but he can’t avoid the shaking of his body as he holds on to the last thing he had of Luhan.

He needs fresh air, he needs to leave the house, he needs space between the pain he’s feeling and the painting that brought the pain. So, he drops it on the couch and runs to the door, taking his phone and keys before running away.

When he finds himself on the street, walking aimlessly, his heart beat calms down. The skin beneath his eyes is drying up, he should wash his face, but he doesn’t want to go back to his apartment and see the empty frame and the now empty wall. He walks to the closest metro station, remembering what he once told Luhan. He steps inside and waits for the next train. Just being in a real place, a familiar place that he’s used to, helps him to cool down. In direction to Yeouido, he sits on the train, surrounded by people, young kids chatting with his friends, an old man sitting in front of him complaining to his wife about something that happened at the market, a young couple holding hands and playing with each other’s fingers. They’re all characters, people that Yixing would paint so well, people that own their own lives.

Yeouido Park looks beautiful on a Sunday afternoon, bursting with people. It’s not a traditional Chinese market, but it’s full of life. The breeze is enough to move the branches of the trees; cicadas are singing. There are cyclists riding around the paths, there are children playing games. Jongdae walks along the paths, enjoying the day and the place, knowing Luhan would love to be here with him. He sees everything he’d like to show to Luhan.

He walks in the direction to the Han River, arriving at Yeouido Hangang Park, where he sits on the grass, facing the river, watching the Namsan Tower. He bends his knees and hugs his legs. Staring at the coursing river, he feels at peace. Finally, he has a moment of quiet when he’s not mourning Luhan’s dissapearence from his life. He would love to have Luhan next to him. But he knows that there’s no Luhan in this painting, because this is Jongdae’s own portrait.

*

There’s an empty wall in Jongdae’s living room, where a painting used to be. It was a portrait of a young man slightly turned from the front, craning his neck to face his audience. He was absolutely stunning and charming, his stare was alive and had called Jongdae’s attention, inviting him to visit him one night.

Now, there’s no portrait. But there are clothes inside Jongdae’s closet that hadn’t been there before. White cotton, crossed collar, a sash, and pants. There, mixed in between Jongdae’s clothes, lies a pajama Luhan has lent him. When Jongdae wants to remember, he opens the door to his closet, touches the fabric and lets the memories rush back. He closes his eyes at night and feels Luhan’s presence in his life in a different way.



A year later (Epilogue)

A promotion came Jongdae’s way, he feels better at work now. It was time for Jongdae to fully enjoy the life he has chosen for himself. Chatting with his friend Minseok, they decide to celebrate it. Minseok has a football game on Saturday afternoon, but afterwards they will go for a few drinks.

“If you can handle my sweat.” Minseok jokes.

“I hope that, if you stink, it’s because you won.” Jongdae punches him on the arm.

“We’re gonna win.”Minseok assures him. “I have faith in my team.”

As Saturday comes, Jongdae is excited. He’s been going out more often, breaking from his own little bubble. He became more open to new environments and new social circles. He has heard Minseok talking so much about his football team, but never got the chance to see them. They play in a rented place, it’s small, but Jongdae can see the game well from the sides.

When Minseok notices him, he comes running to greet him.

“Already sweating?” Jongdae jockingly asks, earning him a punch.

“This will be easy. We have Luhan.” Minseok’s comment makes Jongdae snap his head at him. Thinking he heard wrong, he asks him to say it again. “We have a new player, a chinese guy called Luhan, he’s cool, he speaks very little Korean though. He said he started learning last year.”

“Where is he?” Jongdae’s heart is trying to fly off his chest. He’s sweating nervously. He doesn’t mean to get his hopes up, but it matches too well. Maybe there are a thousand Luhans in China.

But when a new guy comes running towards them, the smile is the same and Luhan’s eyes sparkle.





A/N: First of all, to OP: your prompt was perfect, I loved it. But I went the other way around and maybe you were expecting a fantasy setting, when I went for a historical one. I hope you still enjoyed this.
To the mods, thank you for the patience and hard work. I had some personal issues and I didn’t think I could finish this, thanks for the extension.
To my beta-reader, L, even if I couldn’t send it to you often, I appreciate what you did for me. You gave me insight of some things that slipped past me, and, that way, I started to not only pay more attention to what I wrote, but also ask myself a few more things.
To my offspring S, thank you for all your help and consequent excitement. You helped me with the historical accuracy, I was right in asking you about certain stuff. Thanks for accepting my random questions, “how did people refer to china back in the ming dynasty?”, “how did people move around?”. Also, whenever you got excited about something it was contagious.
To my precious S, for the unknowing support.
To my darling J, you’re everything to me. You’ve helped me, cheered on me and supported me all the way. That is very important for a writer, to have someone by their side they can talk to. Your support made it all possible. (Also, thanks for recommending music to listen to while I write)

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