Archive of Our Own

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The office is square. Small. Intimate, almost, and very lightly furnished; two chairs, an odd painting on the wall and a desk, on top of which is a lamp and various paperwork that’s all neatly organised into piles, with colourful paper clips to distinguish the files for each different patient and to keep it all together.

That’s everything -- Jongin doesn’t want anything else because he doesn’t want to appear pretentious and he doesn’t want anything to distract from his work. He’s also got terrible taste when it comes to interior decorating and his sister still refuses to drive over and help him out, but that’s not something Jongin feels he needs to share with people if ever they ask about his office.

This office is where Jongin first meets Oh Sehun; pencilled in for five o’clock on a Wednesday. Sehun shows up twenty minutes early with a little frown puckering at his lips and narrowed eyes, taking in the waiting room before his session like he’s just landed on an alien planet. Jongin calls him in and Sehun looks at Jongin in much the same way; confused, suspicious, perhaps a little intimidated. Jongin asks his name, asks Sehun to tell Jongin a few things about himself, asks how he’s feeling and after each question Sehun stops like he needs a minute to think of what to say.

This office is where Jongin thinks that Sehun possibly has the potential to be his oddest patient yet, and this office is the place where Jongin realises that he was right.

Sehun seems to think he is living a thousand different lives at once. It takes Jongin two and a half sessions to get this out of him and even to this day Jongin’s finding it something of a hard pill to swallow. Sehun says that every time he wakes up he’s in a different world, with different people and different surroundings and nothing even remotely familiar for Sehun to grasp at except for one man who, Sehun says, is everywhere. One man present in every reality - one man with the world revolving around him - one man who Sehun thinks he’s supposed to share the world with but who keeps slipping through his fingers like sand or stardust.

It’s become something like a ritual, now, for Jongin to ask for the man’s name. For his eye colour, hair colour--anything, but Sehun won’t ever tell him. Not a name, not a hobby, not the slightest detail that might allow Jongin to get a grasp on this fantasy world Sehun seems to have lost himself in. Oh Sehun is apparently very, very stubborn, and there’s only so much Jongin thinks he can take of this man before he’ll be forced to give up on him completely.

“You know, this won’t work if you aren’t willing to tell me everything,” Jongin points out one day, hands folded on the desk before him, the image of faux serenity. “I can’t help you if I don’t know who you are.”

Sehun’s mouth quirks up into a crooked smile, but there’s nothing funny about the look in his eyes when he replies; “To be honest, I don’t think you can help me whether I tell you or not.”

“Then why are you here?” Jongin says it before he can think not to, the words drifting out quiet and helpless in the still air between them. Sehun doesn’t respond for a long moment, just sits there in the dark armchair across the room with his hands folded in his lap and his eyes staring at Jongin’s like he’s somewhere far away, lost and motionless until he shrugs, once, uncaring. Jongin sighs and rises from his own chair, folding his hands together behind his back so Sehun can’t see the way his palms shake. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, or is that everything for today?”

“There’s nothing else,” Sehun says, rising to his feet and letting Jongin see him to the door. Once there, though, he stops and turns, frowning again and looking at Jongin quizzically. “Do you still dance?”

Jongin stops for a split second, surprised by the sudden question, but answers; “No, not since I was in high school.”

Sehun looks troubled for a moment, chewing on the inside of his lip like he’s in deep thought, before letting out a little hum from the back of his throat and finally leaving the office. It’s only after Sehun’s gone that Jongin realises how odd the question was; he’s had a good few sessions with Oh Sehun by now, but he can’t remember ever mentioning his own youth, the ‘glory days’ back when Jongin still wanted to be a dancer but ended up as a therapist instead. He’s sure it’s never come up -- there’s never really been a reason for it to -- but that must just mean that Jongin’s memory is failing him because how would Sehun know otherwise?

Yes, that must be it. It must have come up in passing, Jongin just can’t remember. Sehun dances, right? He said that once -- Jongin might have mentioned it then. Jongin must have mentioned it then.

Jongin can’t shake the odd feeling the question has sent tickling down his spine but he forces himself to push it aside anyway. Instead he settles down at his desk, jots down some notes on the session today, then folds the paper into Oh Sehun’s oddly empty file and tries to forget about him for the rest of the day.


Sehun goes straight home after the session, walking fast over the muggy pavement to the parts of town which seem to be perpetually dark and gloomy. It was all he could afford to be nearby to Jongin’s office.

He lets out a sigh as he sinks into bed -- his skinny, greasy mattress -- and stares blindly up at the ceiling as he waits for sleep to take him. He thinks about how he lives this life just for an hour per week with Jongin; just an hour’s session of occasional small-talk and a million questions Sehun won’t answer. Can’t answer. How can he tell Jongin the truth? He couldn’t--there just aren’t the words. Jongin would never believe him, anyway. If anything, he’d probably take out a restraining order on Sehun. Threaten to get him locked up if he doesn’t leave Jongin alone.

That’s what Sehun would do.

Sehun lets out a groan and rolls onto his front, pushing his face into the bare pillow and hoping if he stays like that long enough he’ll be smothered. Of course, Oh Sehun has never been that lucky; he drifts off to sleep almost immediately, and he wonders where he’ll wake up next.


~~~


Sehun wakes up face-down in a different pillow. Lighter -- it smells different. He stretches his arms out to brush his fingers over familiar, soft cotton sheets and relaxes again with a smile. He knows where he is today, and he sure is happy to be here.

Despite this, he’s in serious danger of slipping off into dream-land again when someone starts banging their fist on the front door of this apartment, yelling and causing a racket the neighbours definitely won’t appreciate this early in the morning. That’s probably what woke Sehun up in the first place, and he should probably go let the visitor in, but he already knows who it is and he knows that it’s much more fun to wait for them to join him instead.

It takes about another three seconds before whoever it is lets himself into the apartment and can be heard striding into Sehun’s bedroom with a sigh. “You are actually impossible--why aren’t you awake yet?”

“M’sleepin,” Sehun mumbles with a smile that only grows wider as strong hands grab onto his shoulder and roll him so he’s facing the ceiling, blinking bleary eyes up into the face of one Kim Jongin.

Now, the first time this happened, Sehun panicked. It wasn’t with this Jongin -- this Jongin has only been around for about a year, now, and the first time this happened to Sehun was nearly a decade previous -- but it was still a Jongin; a living, breathing, beautiful boy. He changes in every new universe but he’s still so painfully the same and Sehun is still, always, so painfully in love with him.

“Get up, fatass; we have a big day ahead of us,” Jongin orders, clapping his hands together sharply. Sehun groans at the sound and rolls over onto his front again, burying his head in the pillow defiantly, so Jongin smacks Sehun’s ass instead. “Come on! That big-shot fashion guy is coming to see us today, remember? This could be our big break, so don’t fuck it up!”

He rolls Sehun back again and drags him halfway off the bed in an attempt to get him to move, but Jongin’s efforts are to no avail. Sehun seems intent on doing nothing for himself today, to the point where he holds up his arms to Jongin like a baby and whines; “Carry me.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Jongin grumbles, but he leans down to hoist Sehun up anyway and Sehun finds he can’t wipe the huge grin off of his face for anything.

They don’t talk much while Jongin readies him, flitting around Sehun’s bedroom looking for clothes and hairspray like some kind of fashion fairy. Sehun just lets him get on with it, lets himself be turned into a human dress-up doll; Sehun’s far too concerned with watching Jongin, anyway. He’s so handsome - he always has been. All smooth lines and sharp edges… Sehun sometimes wonders how he got so lucky to be the one man who gets Kim Jongin all to himself.

Then he remembers that he isn’t. Not in this universe, anyway.

Sehun’s too preoccupied with these thoughts when Jongin throws him a tie and instructs Sehun to put it on, so Sehun moves slowly and a little clumsily and eventually Jongin just marches over to tie the thing himself, slapping Sehun’s hands away with a huff. “I’ve never met a model,” Jongin mutters, eyes trained unblinkingly on what he’s doing. He has the tie done within seconds. “Who couldn’t even dress himself.”

Sehun just grins at him. “I can dress myself fine,” he admits, “I just prefer when you do it.”

Jongin, however, doesn’t seem to get the joke. He scowls at Sehun and starts to turn again, presumably to stomp out of the apartment and into the company car that’s no doubt waiting for them outside, but Sehun reaches out to stop him before he can get very far.

“Hey! Hey, I’m sorry,” Sehun sighs and Jongin allows himself to be pulled back, still looking pretty pissed but his expression has softened slightly. He’s never been good at staying mad at people. “I know this is a big day and it’s important to you. I won’t fuck it up, I’m sorry-”

“Ugh, stop,” Jongin shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you-”

“It’s okay; it’s what I’m here for.”

“-I just really want this to work for us I want this to work and it’s not going to if we don’t really step our game up,” Jongin continues as if Sehun hadn’t even spoken, then looks up and into his eyes with nothing but pure, raw emotion. “We need this, Sehun. We need this.”

Sehun doesn’t say that no, ‘they’ don’t. Jongin needs this. Jongin is the one who wants in this business. Jongin is the one with all the hopes and dreams that he’s chasing like his only options are to get there or to die trying--Jongin wants to be a world-class male model, Sehun is just riding off Jongin’s ambition and hoping not to get left behind.

But Sehun doesn’t say that. Of course he doesn’t; he’d probably lose Jongin forever. Or worse, have to live knowing that Jongin hates him.

No, Sehun doesn’t say that; what he does say is, “Shh, I know. I know, and we’re gonna do it, okay? Don’t think so hard - you know you’re good enough to get this, don’t ruin it by freaking out before we’ve even reached the shoot.” Jongin doesn’t respond, doesn’t meet his gaze for a long moment, until eventually Sehun reaches out to tip his chin up with a shy smile. “Okay?”

There it is; small and restrained, but Jongin eventually does smile back, pushing Sehun’s hand away from his face with his fingertips. “Whatever, Sehun,” Jongin says, pretending to be apathetic but there’s still that definite trace of affection there. “Go brush your teeth; we’re leaving.”

They’re quiet after that and quiet still in the car on the way to the shoot. Even the man their agency hired to drive them there doesn't say a word. Sehun’s okay with that; Jongin’s got his game face on and Sehun knows very well by now not to try and mess with him, so he makes sure not to make a sound, but he does allow himself to reach over the sleek leather backseat and take Jongin’s hand. Jongin doesn’t react at first so Sehun squeezes, as if to ask if he’s okay, if they’re okay. Jongin takes long enough to respond that Sehun starts to panic a little and wonder if maybe he did cross the line this morning, but eventually he feels Jongin squeeze back and Sehun relaxes again.

He’s okay, they’re okay. Sehun smiles and prepares to take this day, and whatever it might throw at him, head-on.

The shoot itself isn’t nearly as stressful as the hours running up to it were. They’re working for Overdose magazine, doing some contemporary shoot for the company’s upcoming fashion line, and Sehun’s unashamed to say that he’s excited for this. Mainly because they’re working with artistic director Kim Joonmyun; an old friend of theirs by now, considering how many times he’s asked for them back.

(Although rumour has it that that’s not actually Joonmyun’s call. Apparently the real mastermind behind this operation is Joonmyun’s fiancé, Jongdae, who’s one of the best photographers in the country. He - allegedly - insists that his photos come out better when Jongin and Sehun are in them, and so encourages-slash-demands that Joonmyun bring them in for a shoot at every opportunity. Sehun doesn’t really care either way, though; as far as Sehun's concerned, as long as the work they do draws more attention to Jongin’s budding career then Sehun doesn't care who takes their picture.)

The few hours the shoot goes on for pass in something of a blur. There are three elaborate sets to work with, countless costume changes and absolutely no opportunities to escape Jongdae barking out instructions to them from behind the camera lens. It’s frantic and busy and just makes Sehun want to retreat back under his duvet again, never to be seen.

Usually, Sehun doesn't like this kind of atmosphere. If it were any other world apart from this one he certainly wouldn't be putting up with it for long, but right now as it stands he doesn't mind. He's sort of enjoying himself, actually; he's been living this life long enough to have learned that focusing on the bad, the uncomfortable parts only makes things worse. Sehun's learned that he has to concentrate on the positives, and he's found that they usually have a recurring theme:

Jongin looks beautiful today.

The make-up artists have done a wonderful job, but then again Sehun thinks they already started out with an outstanding canvas. Jongin flirts with the camera, dark outlines on his eyes turning his usual smoky gaze into a sultry invitation that only an incredibly strong man (a man stronger than Sehun will probably ever be) could resist, and the same goes for the women. Kim Jongin practically oozes sex appeal and the producers of magazines like this know that; they use it, playing to Jongin's strengths so anyone who picks up this issue will suddenly fall uncontrollably and irreversibly in love with him.

The fact is that Kim Jongin sells. He's passionate and willing, as well as being incredibly good at this job, and that's why photographers like Jongdae love him.

Sehun honestly has no idea why Jongdae loves Sehun, though. Maybe it's because Sehun's tall and photogenic according to his and Jongin’s current agent as well as a handful of the people who’ve hired him in the past, even though Sehun himself just thinks he looks kind of sleepy and dull in every picture he sees. Or maybe Jongdae doesn't actually like Sehun at all, he just invites him along because he knows that Sehun and Jongin have been working together for a long time, now. That's probably it, actually; 'Overdose' magazine just features Sehun and Jongin together because their teaming up is sort of a thing now. Sehun probably just looks good next to Jongin -- an idea that is more or less proved to be true when Jongdae suddenly yells for everyone to freeze and- "Sehun! Do that again!"

"Do what?" Joonmyun asks before Sehun can, stepping through the little crowd of people working on this shoot and stopping by Jongdae's side.

"I just want to try something," Jongdae mutters, eyes trained on the scene before him. He thinks for just a moment before raising his voice again and calling; "Sehun, go join Jongin on the set please?"

Hesitating only slightly because he wasn’t even in front of the camera when Jongdae spotted him, Sehun does as he's asked, climbing onto the third and final set where Jongin has been working for the last fifteen minutes. The pair of them share puzzled looks as Jongdae suddenly clambers up to join them, taking Sehun by the arm and maneuvering him so he's closer to Jongin. Then Jongdae turns Jongin's body to face Sehun and takes a second to look at them before whispering "perfect" and falling to a crouch, camera poised and ready.

"Now," Jongdae murmurs, "Sehun just... Just look at him..."

Sehun does, and at first he and Jongin both laugh nervously because oh, this is a little weird. And oddly embarrassing in front of all these people who've all fallen silent as they observe; it gets to the point where Jongin has to look away and ask over the steady click of Jongdae's camera, "So do I look at you or-?"

"No, no just- just look back at him," Jongdae instructs.

Jongin does as he's told, locking gazes with Sehun and letting out a shallow breath. Sehun gets the feeling; he's feeling a little lightheaded himself. "How- how do you want me to look at him?" Sehun asks Jongdae quietly, seemingly unable to stop staring at Jongin now he's started and Jongin just keeps gazing back.

"Look at him like..." Jongdae trails off as he tries to think if the right way to describe what he must have spotted before, finally continuing a few seconds afterwards with a quiet; "Like you love him."

Oh. Oh. Now this really is uncomfortable; Jongin falters slightly at the words and Sehun lets out one weak, self-conscious laugh, but Jongdae urges them on and there's really nothing left to do but obey.

So Sehun does it. Clears his head of all thoughts - forgets about the camera and the audience - and just looks at Jongin like he always does. Looks at Jongin like Jongin is the moon and the stars on the ocean. Like Jongin is a perfect sunrise after rain--Sehun looks at Jongin like he is the world and more.

He looks like he loves him.

"Perfect," Jongdae murmurs again after only two or three shots, flitting back to Joonmyun to show him the results on the camera screen while Jongin and Sehun are left to awkwardly stand by, still in position but now avoiding each other's gaze like the plague. "See what I mean?" Sehun hears Jongdae say, and he sounds like he's somewhere far away even though Sehun knows there are only a matter of feet between them. "That look on his face--that's something special. I'm not gonna get to take another photo like this in a long time."

Sehun hears Joonmyun murmur something that sounds like agreement, then a few more words pass between them before Jongdae and Joonmyun are telling them they can leave; they have all they need, the shoot's over, thank you very much.

Jongin and Sehun can't get off that set fast enough.

"That was weird, huh?" Sehun tries for a laugh once they've reached their shared dressing room.

Jongin, on the other hand, doesn't seem to find it funny at all. "Really weird. Really, really fucking weird--Jongdae's crazy, I swear... Why's he got to try that experimental shit when he knows we have this big agent come to see us? He was watching us, I saw him stood at the back. He probably saw that whole thing-- did you get a look at his face, was he mad?" Sehun doesn't reply because he hadn't actually realised the big-shot agent was there at all. To be honest, he'd forgotten all about it. Jongin continues; "Ugh. Well let's just hope he's not some kind of homophobe or we're screwed, we're actually screwed and I'm going to tear Jongdae's liver out with my goddamn bare hands."

Sehun doesn’t ask if Jongin’s mad about what happened. He doesn’t think he has the guts to, to be frank; though it’s rare, there have been universes before where Sehun’s found out that that particular Jongin wasn’t actually gay at all. A couple of times Jongin has actually said horrible things about it, in one world or another, but Sehun can handle that. It bothers him, sure, but Sehun can deal with it and move on. It’s when Jongin decides he physically can’t be around Sehun because of his sexuality that Sehun finds damaging. Nothing else - no petty argument, no insensitive action… It’s just that one day they’re fine and the next Sehun’s a fag, and sometimes Jongin just can’t seem to handle that. So he leaves, and Sehun never sees that Jongin again.

It’s something Sehun always dreads and it’s a feeling Sehun never wants to experience again, so he doesn’t ask Jongin about what happened. He ignores all of the gut instincts insisting that Jongin was looking back at Sehun in exactly the same way as Sehun had been watching him and tries to pretend it didn’t even happen. He’s good at that by now.

It’s in the car ride back to the building of the company the two of them currently work for that Jongin and Sehun find out just what happened with the ‘big-shot’ after Jongdae’s little impromptu experiment on set. Apparently, he was very impressed. Said he was impressed that the boys could adapt and take direction from Jongdae so professionally, especially since they were both heterosexual. As far as the agent knew, anyway. Apparently the man thinks that Jongin and Sehun are exactly what the company he’s representing - S.M., the biggest modelling agency in the business - is looking for, and he’s going to arrange for them to meet with his boss so they can discuss contracts and look at signing with the company full-time.

Apparently Jongdae’s little ‘experiment’ has managed to get Jongin’s dreams handed to the boys on a silver platter, and Sehun doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jongin so happy in his life.

Sehun drifts to sleep during the long car ride to their current agency, his head resting on Jongin’s shoulder and a smile on his face.


###


There’s something prodding his cheek.

“Sehun. Psst, Sehun.” A familiar voice whispers through the haze of sleep, but it’s not quite enough to wake him up. Sehun grimaces and tries to ignore it. “Hey- hey Sehun!” Another prod. “Psst! Sehun!”

“What?” Sehun demands groggily, finally blinking his eyes open to a huge dark room and shifting on the mattress beneath him only to find that it’s hard and tough and makes him feel slightly claustrophobic from the bunk that’s on top of it. Sehun realises suddenly where he is and quietens immediately, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark until he can make out a familiar shape crouched by the side of his bed, near his pillow. “What, what is it?”

“Sehun I’m absolutely bricking myself,” Jongin admits in a hurried whisper, the words floating in the dark like they’d be far too weak to even last ten seconds in daylight. “I can’t do this, Sehun, I swear to god I can’t-”

“Jongin, we leave tomorrow-”

“I know! I know and that’s why I’m so scared!” Jongin hisses. “I can’t go to war, Sehun!”

Sehun cracks a smile even though he probably shouldn't. Jongin's panic is endearing in a weird sort of way, and Sehun finds that he really wants to kiss him. (He doesn't, of course; he can't, not with this Jongin. They're not ready yet, and Sehun won't push him.) "Why not?" Sehun asks instead, "You're practically the best in our squadron."

Jongin scowls. "Don't dick around with me, please, I'm being serious!"

"Okay maybe not the best, but I'd say in terms of skill you'd definitely rank somewhere near the bottom-middle."

"I didn't even want to join this war, Sehun," Jongin whispers and something in his voice makes Sehun fall silent. "What... What if I don't come back?"

"Hey! Don't talk like that," Sehun says firmly, pointing a finger at Jongin's chest and looking him dead in the eye like his heart didn't just do some awful little squeeze at Jongin's words. The extra 'I don't like it when you talk like that' is implied. “Don’t even start thinking like that, Jongin; you’re just tempting fate for something bad to happen. We’ll be fine, alright? Both of us--you know I’m gonna be right there with you to watch your back and we both know that Yixing and Yifan are sure as hell not gonna let anything happen to any of us. EXO is their unit -- you think they’re gonna let a single one of us guys come home in a box? They’d kill us themselves first.”

Jongin laughs shakily. “That’s not really very reassuring.”

“Well you woke me up at this unholy hour for a conversation we’ve had a thousand times before and I’m still half asleep, so it’s the best you’re gonna get right now,” Sehun counters playfully.

“Oh,” Jongin nods like he’s just realised that Sehun’s right. “Oh, right- sorry.”

Sehun snorts a laugh. “It’s fine. Now just… Get back into bed before anyone else wakes up and you get us in trouble.”

“Sorry,” Jongin mutters again, standing up and using Sehun’s bed as a step-up so he can climb back into his own bed; the one right on top of Sehun’s. Sehun watches the underside of the mattress shift as Jongin arranges himself and gets comfortable, the dark room almost lulling Sehun to sleep again when Jongin suddenly whispers; “Sehun?”

“...Yeah?”

“Are you scared?”

Sehun swallows, letting out a slow breath and nodding into the dark. This world came as a bit of a shock to him; he woke up here on the first day of training, with no knowledge of where he was supposed to have come from and no idea what he’s even fighting for. In fact, no one really seems to know; half of the young soldiers Sehun’s met are here because they were conscripted into this war their home country’s government refuses to give them any information about. All they know is that their side is supposedly winning, but they need more troops. They say the soldiers are getting younger each day, and any scraps of information from the frontlines come few and far between. No one knows what they’re here for, but everybody is being made to lay their lives down for it anyway.

Usually, Sehun tries to avoid thinking about it too hard, but every fear gets that much stronger in the dark; Sehun’s had plenty of time to consider that he could be one of millions who never come home again after they leave for enemy territory.

Sehun tries not to think about what might happen to Jongin.

“Of course. I’m terrified.”

He hears Jongin chuckle breathily. “So you can be scared but I’m not allowed to, is that how it works?”

“You’ll be fine,” Sehun tells him immediately. You have to be fine.

Jongin drops the subject then, instead letting out a sigh and shifting onto his side, letting one arm fall down the edge of the bed, stretched towards Sehun. Sehun smiles to himself and reaches up to take Jongin’s hand gently, closing his eyes again with a sigh. They don’t sleep for a long time after that, and when they finally do their hands are still together, holding on to one another like no kind of lurking monster could ever tear them apart.


---


Sehun wakes to the sound of singing; some smooth male vocalist crooning out a love song on the radio somewhere far away. It’s a song he’s heard before - not the best song in the world but Sehun has nothing against it - but it still takes a moment before he can place it and when he does, Sehun smiles. There’s a happy swelling in his chest, right where his heart is, and excitement fills his gut as he realises which world he’s in.

It feels like he’s been waiting for this to come back around for a lifetime.

He finds he can suddenly recognise this bed; notices the familiar scent of someone else’s aftershave on the pillows; reaches out and feels the empty space where a warm body has not long since been lying beside him. There’s nothing there now, though, and that can only mean one thing. Jongin is already up.

Sehun is out of the bed and on his feet within seconds.

The great thing about Sunday mornings here is that they’re always so slow, so easy. It’s not that Sehun gets to kick his feet up and relax on Sunday, because he doesn’t; he has to spend his afternoon at the office catching up on all the paperwork he hasn’t managed to finish in the week, but this morning is his favourite part of the week. Sunday mornings are slow kisses and hot coffee, chirpy morning chat-shows and a low, warm voice in Sehun’s ear. Sunday mornings are the best waste of his time.

Or, should he say, their time; Jongin always cooks on Sunday mornings, frying bacon and eggs and sausage because he says he firmly believes in a ‘proper Sunday breakfast’. Sehun doesn’t really care whether his breakfast is ‘proper’ or not, and he knows Dabin doesn’t either - she’s never been a picky eater, and Sehun thinks they’re lucky in the sense that even as a five-year-old she pretty much eats what she’s been given with no complaints - but Jongin likes to look after them and if it makes Jongin happy then Sehun’s happy, too. So naturally, knowing this, Sehun heads straight for the kitchen after waking up and finds himself very pleased with what he finds.

Jongin’s stood at the stove frying bacon or something, shirtless and wearing only his long, grey pyjama bottoms. He’s got his back to Sehun; the smooth, tan planes of skin and muscle proving to be a damn near irresistible sight even through sleepy eyes and a sensation similar to that of butterflies fills Sehun’s stomach. Even after all the years they’ve been together in this world, Jongin is still the most perfect thing Sehun has ever seen; he wastes no time in crossing the room, wrapping his arms around Jongin’s waist from behind and pressing his lips to the back of his husband’s neck. “Good morning.”

Jongin hums in lieu of a reply, drawing it out with a sound of approval as Sehun drags his lips down the line of Jongin’s shoulder. “Sleep well?”

“I did,” Sehun nods. It’s a lie, but it’s easier than trying to explain the truth of the matter; Sehun never sleeps well. He is always tired, because despite the copious amounts of rest he appears to get in all of his worlds, it never adds up; in what feels like no time at all Sehun has to wake up somewhere else, feeling like some kind of zombie because the sleep he did get doesn’t seem to have translated across the universe with Sehun himself. Sehun is always tired, to the point where it’s kind of maddening, but Jongin can’t know that. So Sehun lies. He used to be ashamed of it, but he’s so used to it now that it barely even registers. “You know me; I sleep like a baby. Speaking of, where’s ours gone?”

“She’s still asleep, I think,” Jongin replies, leaning to the side so he can crack a few eggs into the pan and fry them alongside the bacon. Sehun’s so determined not to break this back-hug that he moves when Jongin does, like some sort of shadow, and Jongin lets out a quiet laugh. “I mean, she was when I checked on her twenty minutes ag- Jesus, Sehun, what are you doing? Get off!”

“Excuse me, I am cuddling my husband,” Sehun protests, holding Jongin that much tighter around the middle as if to prove just how determined he is not to let go. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped protesting; you’re ruining the moment.”

Sehun can hear the smile in Jongin’s voice as he responds. “I think your husband would rather cook without the distraction, to be honest.”

“Distraction?” Sehun asks innocently, pressing kisses along the back of Jongin’s shoulders and the nape of his neck again, breathing over the ticklish spot Jongin has there so his hairs stand on end. “I’ll have you know I don’t pose any sort of distraction while my husband is working with equipment that could be potentially harmful to him or those around him. I’m far too responsible for that.”

“Is that right?” Jongin murmurs, voice turning a little husky as Sehun’s hands start to roam, now, too; over Jongin’s chest and stomach then lower, to the band of Jongin’s pyjama pants and-

“Papa?”

Sehun yanks his hands away from Jongin’s dick faster than if he’d touched the hot frying pan with his bare skin. “Yes, princess?”

He spins so fast and speaks so quickly that there’s no way Sehun doesn’t sound guilty; hands hidden behind his back as Jongin goes suspiciously quiet beside him. A sharp mind would easily pick up the signs and figure out what had been happening before the couple were so suddenly interrupted, but luckily for Sehun and Jongin, their daughter is only five. As long as she was the centre of attention, Sehun thinks she’d be perfectly happy for her fathers to do whatever the hell they like.

“I’m hungry,” Dabin announces, rubbing her eyes with a little more force than is necessary and stifling a yawn.

“I know, baby; Daddy’s making breakfast for us now,” Sehun tells her, leaning down automatically to scoop her into his arms when she comes forwards and reaches for him. (This, Jongin's mother says, is a bad habit. Apparently Dabin is too big, now, to be babied as much as Jongin and Sehun baby her, and there’s some chapter in some parenting book somewhere that supports her argument. But frankly, Sehun is of the opinion that Jongin’s mother’s parenting books can go die in a fire; as long as Dabin is shorter than Sehun is, she is his baby, and he will damn well treat her as such.)

"How long will it take?" Dabin asks, using Sehun’s height to peer over Jongin's shoulder at the food.

Jongin clears his throat quietly before answering. "Uh, five minutes."

He doesn’t really seem to have recovered from a few moments ago yet, and Sehun grins but doesn't tease for once. Instead he takes Dabin across the room to their little round dining table and sets her down in one of the chairs, stroking her sleep-mussed hair gently back into place. "So what's new, anyone?"

"Dabinnie has a new teacher," Jongin offers without turning around. "He starts tomorrow."

Sehun frowns. "And we're only finding out today? That's a bit short notice, isn't it?"

"She forgot to give us the letter; I only found it in her coat pocket this morning," Jongin explains with an air as if to sigh and say ‘what are we going to do with her?’.

"Oh I see!" Sehun gasps, sending Dabin a disapproving look. She seems pretty much unaffected, though, merely blinking back at her father for a second or two before climbing off of her chair to go running back upstairs to her bedroom again. Sehun rolls his eyes and turns back to Jongin instead. "So. A male primary school teacher, huh?" Jongin nods. "I bet he's gay."

"Stereotype," Jongin points out, flipping the bacon one last time before deeming it ready to eat. Sehun sets out three plates for him to start dishing breakfast up on. "He might be straight. Married with kids."

Sehun snorts. "Jongin, if you haven't noticed, we are married with a kid -- that's no longer a strong argument to help prove whether someone is straight or not."

"Still. He's probably not gay."

"Nah, I think he will be."

“Well I’m picking her up tomorrow, so if he’s got a huge gay pride banner outside the classroom door and rainbows painted on the walls inside, I’ll let you know and you can have your ‘I told you so!’ moment,” Jongin replies sarcastically, taking his and Dabin’s plates to the table while Sehun does the same with his own, grinning. “But otherwise, I guess we’ll never know. Dabin! Come on, darling, breakfast’s ready!”

Dabin’s speeding footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs with all the grace of (and a similar amount of noise as) a herd of elephants while Sehun sends Jongin an impish smirk across the table. “Maybe you should go on a mission to find out. Go seduce him, discover all his secrets.”

Jongin sends Sehun a Look and rolls his eyes when Sehun snorts obnoxiously, reaching over where Dabin’s just sat down to turn the radio up. Sehun recognises this song, the one Jongin obviously wants to listen to; it’s Jongin’s favourite singer, Do Kyungsoo, who seems to have an odd fixation with singing mournful songs about heartbreak and tragedy and this one song about a mermaid that Sehun thinks is dumb but Jongin had some kind of obsession with, the first few months after it came out. Jongin seems to have roped Dabin into being a fan of this singer, too, so now Sehun is treated to both of them bursting into song at random intervals in the day, either unaware or uncaring of the fact that they’re both more or less tone deaf.

(Sehun thinks it’s just testament to how much he loves them both that their singing has become his favourite sound in the world.)


***


Sehun wakes in a dingy, dark apartment and, for a moment, he’s surprised to be there. He doesn’t remember falling asleep in the last world - he always tries to stay awake for as long as he can there - but his control must have slipped because he’s certainly not home any more.

Not in a home he wants to be in, anyway.

It takes a few moments of blinking around in bewilderment before it finally dawns on Sehun just where he is and he lets out a sigh of realisation. This is one of his newer worlds, where he doesn’t quite know the way back home and the weather is always a little bit too cold for him to adjust to. He doesn’t know which city he’s in -- only has a vague idea of which country -- but everyone still speaks the same language that Sehun does so he finds ways to manage. Language, at least, seems to be on his side.

Sehun always wakes in this world in the morning. Eight o’clock, right when his alarm goes off. His work uniform is always laid out on a chair in the corner of the bedroom, car keys on the bedside table on top of a thick, hardback book on sleep disorders and there’s always a box of cornflakes to start him off for the day. This life actually requires some work, it seems, despite how Sehun would rather just get it over with.

The routine is still unfamiliar, because Sehun’s only been here once or twice before, but his body carries out the actions like he’s been doing this for every day of his life. He gets up, goes to the bathroom, brushes his teeth, takes a piss, takes a shower sometimes if he needs it but it has to be a quick one. He comes back to the bedroom, gets dressed in his uniform, leaves the sheets messy on his double bed and goes to eat breakfast. Cornflakes, of course, eaten alone at a small, circular wooden table that Sehun finds almost upsettingly similar to the one he and Jongin have in the last world, the one where they’re married with Dabin, the one that’s a far cry from this lonely life.

He misses them, but he knows he can’t. There’s no point; they’re not in this world. Dabin isn’t, anyway. Sehun pushes her out of his mind.

At eight-fourty-five Sehun leaves this one-bedroom apartment and drives to work; a little newsagent-slash-corner shop in town. He takes the sleep disorder book with him, to read during his breaks and through slow periods, and does the typical nine-to-five working day - the cherry on top of this mundane, solitary life.

Six o’clock is what he lives for.

Six is when Sehun, after driving for fourty-five minutes across the city just to reach a run-down, leaky old community centre, can finally see him. Them -- there’s more than just Jongin that Sehun’s come to look forward to, here, but of course Jongin’s the main thing.

Six o’clock is when Sehun goes to, what he refers to as, ‘Anxiety Group’.

Now, it’s not like Sehun needs to go. Sehun is perfectly sound of mind, thank you very much; he’s been to this support group before and he knows for a fact he does not suffer from the disorders these other people do. Oh Sehun does not have the obsessive need for control that Byun Baekhyun’s hands shake for. Sehun does not see doom and danger in every breath of life around him, does not break down completely like Huang Zitao has done so many times before; Sehun is fine.

Sehun comes here for Jongin. Jongin’s been coming to this group for months, he says, and at the beginning he could barely even step one foot out the door, he worked himself up into such a panic about it. He says it seemed like hell for him, at first; too much of the unfamiliar, too many chances to be humiliated and criticised. He says he doesn’t know how he did it, but he’s glad he did, because he’s better now. He’s getting better now. He will be better any day now.

When he speaks, he doesn’t look at anyone. He looks at his hands and his hands only, like he’s trying to pretend nothing else exists, then when he’s finished telling his story he looks up tentatively, quietly apologising though Sehun can't understand what for. But the group leader assures Jongin that it's alright, it’s fine, thank you for sharing with us, and the obvious relief Jongin feels when nothing bad happens is almost tangible.

Sehun watches him carefully as all this goes on, taking in Jongin’s expression, body language, the way he sits like he’s curling in on himself slightly. Resigned, quiet. Everything about him seems designed so as to avoid drawing attention to himself--Sehun wonders why. How he got this way, when this happened, what-

“So, Sehun, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” the group leader asks suddenly, smile supportive and non-threatening.

Sehun falters anyway. “Uhh…”

“You don’t have to, of course, I just thought it might help since you’re a newer addition to the group,” the leader prompts.

Sehun stops. Composes himself and takes a moment to think--he’s prepared for this moment. He bought the damn book of disorders, he’s already got a plan for all of this. He can do this. How hard can it be? “Me? Well, uh… I don’t sleep.” The leader nods and waits for Sehun to continue. “Uhh-” Sehun falters again, trying to remember what he read. It’s difficult -- the pressure’s making his mind go blank. He’s never been a good liar. “I can’t sleep. And when I do it’s not- not like I should. I wake up too fast, I’m always tired, I… I don’t know why.”

Not a lie. Not technically -- Sehun is tired. Always. It’s not really a lie.

The group leader nods slowly. “I see… And, have you tried to get some help for your condition?”

“Well, yeah,” Sehun answers quickly, nodding his head like it’s obvious. The leader waits for him to continue again and Sehun wonders how the hell he got himself into this situation. “I, uh- I tried hypnotism. It didn’t work, they- they turned off the lights too quickly, I guess.” It was a shot in the dark but there’s a low chuckle from somewhere around the circle; apparently someone’s shared Sehun’s ‘experience’. He continues. “And I… I went to the doctor’s and they gave me this drug which- which worked, but-”

“Which one?” someone asks suddenly. Byun Baekhyun, it is, and Sehun’s eyes go wide.

“Uhh--”

“My doctor put me on Klonopin when I couldn’t sleep,” Huang Zitao offers quietly. “It worked pretty well.”

Baekhyun leans forwards to see him better around the circle. “Really? They gave me Alprazolam.”

“Oh. Did it work?”

“It was rubbish! Completely useless,” Baekhyun screws his face up in disgust. “I think it was mainly for the anxiety, but it still didn’t work.”

“The Klonopin was for anxiety too,” Zitao nods, “but I did sleep better, so…”

“Yeah I had- I had the same,” Sehun jumps in again, grasping at anything that could be plausible. Zitao smiles at him gently and Sehun honestly feels guilty for making him believe they’re in the same boat, here. “But I- uh… Well I guess I took too much and now they… They took me off it and sent me here.”

The group leader smiles understandingly. “And you’re on the road to recovery now?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sehun nods, relief washing over him as he can finally see the end in sight. It’s closer than he thinks, in fact, since the group leader nods and turns to invite a different person in the circle to share their experiences. Sehun is safe.

He takes a few deep breaths, internally reeling at how the hell he managed to get through that without being called out on his lying, and it takes a few moments for him to realise that there’s someone watching him. He looks up and there, almost directly opposite him, Kim Jongin’s gaze is almost fixed on Sehun. Jongin looks away the moment Sehun spots him, but curiosity has him glance back a second later and he sees Sehun smiling at him.

Slowly, shyly, Jongin smiles back.


+++


Sehun wakes up and he doesn’t know where he is.

Really, this time; he’s never been here before and it takes a few moments before Sehun can even begin to get his bearings. It’s so bright--white sheets, white walls, white window pane with no curtains or blinds to shield him from the stunning morning sunshine that beams down onto Sehun’s body, unrestrained. Sehun sits up in bed, somewhat concerned about the lack of privacy until he sees that there’s no one outside the window to see in; the window shows him nothing but clear blue sea, the house obviously being built on the end of some cliff somewhere.

It’s more like a cottage than a house, though, as Sehun discovers upon leaving the bedroom and padding over laminated floorboards into the other rooms. Everything is small but still feels open, airy -- the house is kind of perfect, which makes Sehun wonder what kind of horrific things he must be in for outside, if this world has been so kind to him already.

Well, Sehun thinks, finally coming to a stop before the bathroom mirror and looking into his own brown eyes determinedly. There’s only one way to find out.

There are clothes in the wardrobe, not really the kind of fashion that Sehun would usually wear but it’s all in his size and there’s nothing else he could put on instead; he has no room to be picky.

Sehun leaves the cottage and takes a little stone footpath that leads him down, away from the cliff-edge and the sea beyond it. He’s following the path for a little over ten minutes, taking in his surroundings as he goes, and eventually comes to a scenic little village; two lines of shops and cafés and the occasional old-fashioned tavern on each side of the one main road that runs straight through and off to whatever lies beyond this place. It’s busy but not crowded, the handful of tourists standing out amongst the residents by the way they seem to float randomly from shop to shop, whilst those who are no strangers to the town’s beauty walk with much more purpose.

Sehun thinks he himself fits somewhere in between those groups.

This place is very pretty, almost disarmingly so, but Sehun knows, by now, what he has to do. Jongin will be here somewhere and Sehun has to find him; that’s how all the worlds work. And, as per usual, he has no idea where to start.

Checking inside shops seems like a good idea, so that's what Sehun does first. He goes into every shop on the right hand side of the road, pretending to browse a little in every one so he doesn't look suspicious hopping in and out of them all. No luck; Jongin isn't at the post office or the pub. He's nowhere near the little French restaurant (though Sehun isn't really surprised by this; none of the Jongins Sehun's ever known have been big fans of French food) and it's started to rain by the time Sehun reaches the dusty little book shop at the end of the road on this side. He doesn't have an umbrella or even a coat to wear, but Sehun pushes on anyway, darting across the road and speeding around shop after shop as the rain starts to fall harder and faster. Soon enough it's gotten downright unbearable -- big, fat bullets of water shooting down at him from the sky -- and Sehun has no choice but to duck into a nearby café for shelter, drenched to the bone.

Sehun's too concerned with trying to wring the water out of his t-shirt to actually take a look around at first, but he supposes it figures that this unassuming little café is the one where he hears a very recognisable voice playfully calling; "Is it a bit wet out there?"

Sehun's head snaps up immediately.

There are a few customers dotted about the place that had turned to watch Sehun's watery entrance, but Sehun ignores all of them in favour of staring at one of the two men behind the counter--the one that called to him and is now grinning like a Cheshire Cat, distinctive and familiar and beautiful as ever. Not for the first time (and certainly not for the last), Sehun is suddenly overcome with waves of attraction and affection for Kim Jongin; literally the ray of sunshine Sehun needs on such a rainy day.

And, not for the first time, Sehun finds himself somewhat speechless in front of the man he loves. "Uh-- yeah, a little. I'm- uh- looking for sanctuary."

Jongin laughs, shooting a conspiratorial glance at his co-worker. "Well, you've gotta buy something if you want to hide out here."

"What, seriously?" Sehun's eyes go wide as he approaches the counter slowly, patting his pockets and feeling an odd sort of mild panic rise up from within him. "But I don't- I don't have any money..."

Jongin laughs again at Sehun's expression and his colleague rolls his eyes, stepping forward to help. "He's joking; you're free to stay as long as you like. There are toilets over there, as well, if you want to try and dry off a bit."

"Oh- thank you," Sehun nods, following the direction the worker -- Minseok, Jongin calls him when he calls the man out on being a ‘killjoy’ -- points him in and locking himself into a cubicle for some privacy while he tries to think how he's going to handle this.

Jongin is here. Jongin is here and happy and healthy--at least he looks it. Friendly, too, which is a nice change from the timid anxiety-group-Jongin Sehun's just come from. He's practically perfect here -- everything is perfect.

And Sehun's terrified of what he can't see that will come to ruin it.

Now, it's not like there's some sort of ultimate goal in each world Sehun gets tossed into. This isn't a video game; there's no Big Bad who has to be defeated before Sehun and Jongin can be together. They're normal lives Sehun lives through, but that's just the thing: this one doesn't seem normal. It's too pristine, too perfect. It doesn't seem real, doesn't seem like it could exist.

There has to be a problem somewhere, Sehun just doesn't know what.

But there's nothing he can do about the future right now, so Sehun forces himself to calm and focus on the task at hand: he's still completely soaked.

Sehun then goes about dabbing at his skin with toilet roll and bends into odd positions beneath the electric hand drier in rather desperate attempts to catch the hot air, shaking his hair out and making odd noises to punctuate his efforts until he's more or less presentable. He checks himself over in the mirror once even if he knows he's a mess and steels himself before going out to the shop front again, body full of nerves despite how he's already met Jongin at least a million times before.

(Of course, he’s never met this Jongin before, but still.)

"Ah, welcome back!" this world’s Jongin greets him as soon as Sehun reappears again, offering Sehun a small wave from where Jongin is leaning against the shop counter lazily. The rain's stopped and most of the customers have cleared out now, save for one or two who are still taking advantage of the free wifi, so Jongin's the only one left watching the shop front. He's still smiling. "Got yourself fixed up, now?"

"Yeah, thanks," Sehun smiles back. "Have, uh... Have you guys had a busy day?"

"Nah; no worse than it usually is," Jongin shrugs. "We're coming up to tourist season, though, so we should get more business soon... Pretty little place, isn't it? The town?"

"Oh yeah, gorgeous," Sehun says honestly, "I've never seen anything like it."

Jongin grins, obviously pleased with Sehun's answer. "Good! I'm glad you're enjoying it-- how long are you staying for?"

Sehun frowns at him in confusion for a moment before he realises what Jongin means. "Oh! I'm not a tourist," Sehun laughs awkwardly, "I live here."

"Really? I haven't seen you around," Jongin comments, frowning at Sehun as he obviously tries to remember ever seeing him before.

Sehun tries not to fidget too much under the scrutiny. "I, uh... I'm new. Just moved in."

"Oh! Well I hope to see you around here more often, then!" Jongin's smiling again; that easy, carefree grin that no doubt is to thank for half the business this place gets.

Sehun can do nothing but smile back, feeling like Jongin has made his insides go all gooey for a moment. "Yeah! Definitely, I'll be back tomorrow. With money, this time."

Jongin laughs at that and promises he'll save a slice of carrot cake for Sehun. Sehun doesn't like carrot cake, but he doesn't say that, just takes this as his cue to leave and heads out the door with another promise that he'll return the next day.

He can't get the image of Jongin's smile out of his mind even after he's home, settling down in bed to sleep.