Archive of Our Own

Chan: hey can I come over???

: you bitch I can see that you read my messages can I come overrrrr?????

Minho: No. Stop texting me. 

Chan: I miss u and I wanna fix things. just let me come over and we can talk? please

Minho: Have a good night Chan. And no, you can’t come over. 

Minho huffed, sliding his phone down onto his bedside table before staring up at his ceiling. If Minho wasn’t used to Chan’s desperate messages, he might have faltered by now. But he knew how Chan was, and he knew that Chan was just high off his ass again. This had become routine lately. 

Chan was just high, and Minho didn’t have the patience for it tonight. 

Minho and Chan used to be something. Not just anything, but something. Their relationship was special, and at one point Minho wondered if they’d end up getting married or something like that. But life had other plans. In college Minho grew up, and Chan decided not to. While Minho was working on his degree, Chan was partying and starting up recreational activities involving a slew of different drugs. At first Minho understood and pitied Chan. Chan told him that he was having a tough time and the drugs helped soothe his nerves, but after a year of excuses and broken promises from Chan to get off that shit, Minho couldn’t take it anymore. 

Their breakup was messy. 

Chan was messy. 

Minho raked his hand through his messy head of blond hair. He should re-dye it soon. His roots were starting to peek through and part of him wondered if any amount of hair dye could fill that strange void in his chest. 

Ding!

Minho reluctantly glanced at his phone, frowning at the notification. 

Chan: I love you

: I think I say that a lot but I rly mean it and I just want to see you again 

: even if just for a minute please 

: Minho?

 

Minho inhaled, turning his phone onto do not disturb mode before shutting his eyes tight and crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t need to reply to those. He didn’t need to look at them anymore tonight either. Chan was relentless, and Minho just didn’t have the energy to pick him up. 

Besides, in the morning Chan would probably forget he texted Minho again. He did that a lot according to their friend Jisung. 

It was just another day. 

“He texted you again? Did you reply?”

Minho sighed, looking his coworker in the eye, “no, I didn’t reply.” He lied, “I’m used to it but he texted something different last night and it kinda caught me off guard.”

“Ah, it’s probably because he dropped out.”

“He what?” 

“Yeah, you didn’t know? Jisung told me that he finally dropped out for good. I guess he was sick of probation and the coursework or something.”

Minho frowned at that, looking down at the counter filled with goods for the rush that was due the second they would open the coffee shop doors, “he was struggling but I didn’t know he would just quit.”

“You don’t talk to him anymore, how would you know anything?”

Minho’s mouth formed a line, “what’s that supposed to mean, Seungmin?”

Seungmin shrugged, grabbing his key and sighing in annoyance at the person knocking at the door wondering why they weren’t opened yet, “nothing. I know you two have a history but you refusing to talk to him kinda dampened the friend group. I don’t really talk to him either because of how close I am to you. It feels wrong to still be friends with him.”

“That’s not fair.”

Seungmin unlocked the door, the customer sliding in and marching up to the counter, “let’s just drop it and work.”

Minho didn’t expect Chan to drop out. He was in his last year and that meant he’d thrown all of it away—for what? Chan loved the idea of college when he started. Why would he drop out? Minho remembered the joy Chan expressed when Minho was accepted into the same college as him. They were even roommates for Minho’s first year. 

Chan loved college. 

So why did he quit?

The work day was miserable and slow, but Minho assumed anyone working eight hour shifts alongside three classes a day would be miserable anyway. He was in his third year, and graduation was coming up faster than he knew how to handle. 

Even if Minho knew he was going to medical school after his bachelors, he worried about the future. 

And now he was worrying about Chan’s too. 

But he needed to focus on his biochem lecture. Not Chan. 

Just biochem. 

Of course the moment he finished his final class for the day, he found himself staring at his phone. Should he text Chan back? Was asking how Chan was worth the trouble? 

Minho shook his head, sliding his phone into his back pocket—because no, no Chan wasn’t. 

When Minho got back to his apartment he was greeted with his roommate Changbin on the couch, tapping away at his laptop. 

“Exam soon?”

Minho’s roommate sighed before sliding his glasses from his nose, “yeah, and two papers. I can’t wait for the semester to end so I can relax for a bit.”

“Ah… it’s rough for everyone this year. I haven’t even started my final paper.” 

Changbin pushed his laptop onto the small table by the couch before patting the spot beside him, “good thing there’s a party we can go to tonight.”

Minho snorted, sliding down beside Changbin who was leaning down to pick up his controller, which meant they were about to play a video game, “a party?”

“Yeah, Jisung invited us. Some guy he knows off campus is hosting it.”

Minho grabbed his controller, watching the tv screen light up with the loading screen for smash, “sounds cool to me, big or small?”

“This guy is one of the baseball players, so probably big.” 

“Do you think Chan will be there?” 

“Why do you ask?” Changbin’s face fell a bit, and Minho was too good at reading him. 

Minho shook his head, averting his eyes from Changbin to select his character, “did everyone know except me?”

“Know what?”

“Chan dropping out.”

“Well, you know we don’t hang out with you two together anymore, so he told us a few days ago.”

“Us…”

“Who told you? Seungmin?”

“He said Jisung told him,” Minho replied, frowning as Changbin knocked his character off the screen. 

“Seungmin hasn’t really been hanging out with us when Chan’s there. We offer but he always has an excuse.”

“I tell Seungmin everything, that’s probably why.”

“He misses you.”

Minho winced, sliding the controller onto the table over Changbin’s laptop, “that’s not fair.”

“You brought him up,” Changbin paused the screen, “and besides he is really miserable. You should talk to him, Min.”

“I shouldn't.”

“Well, then don’t. I can’t force you, but to answer your question I haven’t heard from Chan since he told us he was dropping out. So I don’t know if he’s coming tonight, but you should. It would be fun.”

“You haven’t heard from him?”

“Why do you care?”

Minho bit into his cheek before shaking his head, “it doesn’t matter. I don’t care, it’s just weird that he’d drop out before graduation.”

“He wasn’t going to graduate.”

“Changbin…”

“Should I tell Jisung you’re in tonight?”

Minho parted his lips to speak before a lump gathered in his throat, causing him to nod instead. 

“Cool. I’ll let him know. Now can we play smash?”

Minho nodded, picking his controller back up and proceeding to lose the next few matches, his thoughts stuck on Chan. 

The party was pretty big, and the music was loud and Minho was worried about the amount of alcohol floating around. He wasn’t usually so cautious at parties, but tonight he found himself worrying over every little thing—but maybe that was just worry over Chan. Why was he so concerned with Chan? 

“Hey, are you sick or something? You’ve been a zombie all night.” Jisung laughed, patting Minho on the shoulder as he downed a shot of something blue from a medicine cup. 

“I’m good. Just…” Minho sighed, “Seungmin told me that Chan dropped out.”

Jisung put the empty medicine cup down on the railing of the stairs, “he did? Yeah Chan dropped out a few days ago. I’ve been helping him pack up.”

Pack up. 

“So he’s leaving campus entirely?”

“Campus housing is only for students. He’s probably heading back home.”

Back home. 

“Back home to…?”

Jisung’s face fell, “you know he was only here for school. He’s probably headed back to Australia unless he’s got a secret off campus house I don’t know about.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“You could always ask him yourself. What’s gotten into you? You hate talking about Chan.”

“I don’t—“

“No, like you hate talking about him. You won’t even hang out with us when he joins. You guys really threw all that friendship away over that breakup.”

Minho started to feel hot, his chest burning up, “I’m just worried about him.”

“So talk to him, stupid.”

“You have no idea what even happened.”

“You won’t tell any of us, and it’s not like Chan remembers either. I don’t know what happened that night for you to completely ditch him like that, but your lack of explanation didn’t leave a good taste in anyone's mouth. Truthfully, I think you’re an asshole.”

“You’re drunk.” Minho retorted, looking Jisung in the eye. 

“And you’re an idiot. If you’re so worried about Chan, he’s right there.”

Minho’s heart skipped a beat, and when Jisung pointed his finger to the first floor, Minho couldn’t help but turn his head. 

He hadn’t seen Chan in weeks. He’d caught him on campus reluctantly a few times, but this was the first time in weeks he’d actually seen him. His messy brown hair was on display under his usual black beanie, and even from up there on the second floor, Minho could see the bags under his eyes. 

“I invited him too.”

Minho pulled his eyes away to give Jisung a glare in response. 

“I figured since he’s leaving the least you could do was tell him goodbye.”

“What's your fucking issue, Jisung?” 

“You fucked up our group. I don’t even get to see Seungmin much anymore because of you.”

“What does that have to do with—“

“I just wanted to hang out with all of my friends one last time.” 

Jisung was drunk, but Minho could see the pain in his eyes. 

“You’re all here tonight. And that’s all I wanted.” Jisung snatched the medicine cup from the rail before turning away and making his way towards one of the bathrooms. 

Minho could only watch in disappointment before his eyes lingered back down to Chan who was now downing his cup of whatever alcohol he’d picked up. 

He shouldn’t go down there. He shouldn’t even try talking to Chan, because what would be the point? 

But Chan was leaving. There was a chance Minho would never see him again—why did he care? 

Minho shouldn’t have cared. 

But he did. And he couldn’t help but start to push his way down the stairs, his eyes locked onto Chan who was talking with a group Minho was unfamiliar with. 

Shit. 

Minho stopped, a few feet behind Chan. He could hear his laugh. Chan was already drunk. Talking to him would just be a mistake, wouldn’t it? 

He watched the back of Chan’s head for a few moments before shaking his own head and turning to the kitchen, grabbing the first bottle he saw and taking an uncomfortable swig before wiping his mouth. He needed to get out of there. The tension in his chest was starting to grow, and Minho found himself gripping the counter as heat filled his throat and chest. 

Chan was too messy. 

Minho needed to go home. 

After alerting Changbin that he would be walking home, Minho left. Changbin was drunk and maybe that’s why he easily let Minho leave, but thankfully Changbin seemed to be having a great time with a few of their friends. Maybe he’d have a nice time with Chan too. 

Minho splashed his face with water as he stood in his bathroom. He was a little buzzed from his drink earlier, but the long walk through crisp air and the water on his face had definitely settled his nerves a bit. 

I think you’re an asshole. 

Did everyone else think that Minho was an asshole for the breakup with Chan? 

Minho hadn’t told anyone what happened between them, and part of him wondered if it was fair to feel the way he did. 

Chan wasn’t a bad person, and Minho would never think of Chan that way. Even if Chan had done something that had really messed with Minho’s head, Chan wasn’t a bad person. 

Minho gripped the sink, staring at himself in the mirror as water dripped down the blond strands of the hair in front of his eyes. 

Chan wasn’t bad. He just made fucked up decisions when he was high. 

And it just—

Knock! Knock! 

Minho grabbed the face towel from the rack, dabbing at his cheeks before making his way to the living room, his eyes glued to his front door until he heard another series of knocks. 

“I’m coming,” he sighed in annoyance, unlocking the door and pulling it open only to freeze in place. 

Minho had a knot in his throat, and he couldn’t say a word as the man in front of him watched him with those familiar puppy dog eyes. 

“Can I come in?”

No. Minho felt panic rise in his chest. He should just say no and close the door, but Chan’s eyes were so sad and dark. And Chan was right there. Chan was standing right in front of him. 

This might be his only chance to say goodbye, right? 

“Okay.”

Minho wasn’t sure what had possessed him to allow Chan inside. He wasn’t sure he liked that Chan was settled on his couch taking his jacket off. 

“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, trying to compose himself. 

Chan was high, Minho could tell as the half smile crossed his lips, “I wanted to see you. I miss you.”

“You’ve never come to my apartment before.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Are you moving back to Australia? Did you really drop out?”

Chan’s face fell before he offered a small nod, “yeah. I’m going back home.”

Minho didn’t know what to say, “why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Chan.”

Chan exhaled, resting his head back into the couch, “you know why I’m here. I miss you, Minho. If I’m leaving I just want to see you one more time.”

“You’re high, aren’t you?” 

“A little. The walk sobered me up a little bit.”

“You walked here?”

“Changbin was buzzed but he told me you walked home. So I figured I would make sure you got here safely. I’m not that high, Minho.”

Minho swallowed hard, approaching the couch slowly, “you should leave. I’m safe and home. You saw me so… you should go.”

Chan tilted his head, “what did I do to you? What did I do to make you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

Chan rolled his eyes, “you don’t talk to me. Whenever I hang out with everyone you stay away. Seungmin barely talks to me. What did I do?”

“Go home, Chan.”

“I will be soon.” Chan frowned, “I won’t be able to see you after this… so can I just hang out with you for a little?”

Minho’s throat was so dry, “you should leave.”

“Did I hurt you?”

They hadn’t talked about this. When Minho broke up with Chan he’d refused to talk to him, and Chan didn’t press him about it after Minho’s outbursts about how much he wanted Chan to leave him alone. 

“I didn’t hurt you, right? I don’t… you know I don’t remember anything.”

Minho felt like he was about to cry. Everything was burning up, especially his eyes. 

Chan slid himself off the couch, “I just need to know what happened before I go. I’ll never see you again and if that’s what you want, then fine. But I need to know what happened.”

“You…”

“If I hurt you… Minho, did I?” 

Chan looked so hurt. 

Minho wanted to avoid this. He’d always wanted to avoid this conversation. He hadn’t told a soul. 

Chan’s expression was altering into something that made Minho’s heart twist in his chest, “Minho, did I hurt you?”

Minho was too hot. He was burning up. 

“You never really listened to me.”

Chan shuddered, “Minho.”

“You were always so high on whatever you got your hands on. You’re still always so high. I don’t know if it’s as bad as it was before but…”

“If I hurt you, or forced myself on you in any way I really need you to tell me, Minho.”

Minho averted his eyes, “you didn’t do that. But you did force me to do something I didn’t want to do.”

“Minho—“

“We were both drunk, and you were also really high. When we got back to our dorm we were really touchy and you went off to do something. I just know when you came back you kissed me and forced something down my throat.”

Minho met Chan’s eyes again, a look of discontent on his face. 

“I tried to shove you off of me, and I was choking on whatever it was until I finally just swallowed it.”

“Why would I—“

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what it was. I just know that a half hour later I couldn’t feel my hands and I felt sick to my stomach. Another half hour and I was starting to hallucinate.”

“It must have been acid or laced with something… I don’t know what else that would have been. What happened after I…?”

“I cried after I swallowed it and you fell asleep.”

“Minho…”

“You didn’t do anything after that. I don’t know why you forced me to take something but I just knew it was the scariest thing that had ever happened to me. I was left hallucinating and freaking out while you passed out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared of you.” Minho admitted, and the second those words left his lips Chan was headed for the door, “Chan.”

“I’m so sorry,” Chan whispered, “Minho, I had no idea that you were… if you’re scared of me I’ll leave. I should—“

“I’m not scared of you anymore, Chan.”

“You—“

“At the time I was terrified. I’d never been on drugs before and when you fell asleep after doing that… I just wondered if you even cared. I panicked and for a while I just couldn’t look at you.”

“Does anyone know? Why didn’t you report me?” Chan sounded so heartbroken, “Minho, I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to go to jail… I just needed to stay away from you. I begged you before to stop doing anything other than pot but you wouldn’t listen. After that incident I figured you were too far gone and I just… I felt bad for you. I still feel bad for you. Because you’re still doing that shit.”

Chan winced, “I’m really sorry, Minho. I won’t bother you again.”

“Chan—“

“Please, block my number if you can. I know I won’t be able to bring myself to do it and whenever I’m high I can’t help but just… I never remember doing it but sometimes I open our chats to read old messages and find that I’ve texted you again. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to block your number. I don’t want you to leave.” Minho wasn’t sure what he was saying, “just… stay the night. You can sleep on the couch.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re moving across the world and I probably won’t see you again.”

“You asked me to leave just a few minutes ago.. I should go.”

“Just stay.” Minho frowned, “it’s really late.”

“I shouldn’t.”

Minho feels silly fighting Chan on this when just moments before he was begging Chan to leave. 

“We can watch a movie.”

“Why would you want to do that with me?”

Minho fought off his tears, “before you go, can we just be friends and watch a movie like we used to? Just one more time.”

“Am I forcing you to do this?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

They sat far apart on the couch. Minho played a horror movie that they had meant to see together before they broke up. They didn’t say much to each other at all, and the interaction was more uncomfortable than anything else. 

But Minho knew it would probably be the last time he saw Chan. And now that Chan knew why Minho had to ghosted him and left him the way he did, the least he could do was hang out with him for just a little bit. 

Minho didn’t think Chan was a bad person. He’d never thought that. Chan was just… messed up. But Minho was so worried about him now. 

“Why are you dropping out?”

“I’m on the verge of being expelled. I already have a warning.”

“You should get a tutor.”

“I skip all my classes to get high.”

Minho frowned, “you used to love it here.”

Chan’s eyes were glued to the television, “I didn’t want to disappoint my parents by telling them I got kicked out. Moving back home is my therapy. I can’t really tell them I’m doing drugs, and my access to them will disappear when I move back home.”

“Is that the real reason you’re leaving? To get away from the drugs?”

“The drugs, college, you.”

Minho felt his chest tighten, “Chan…”

“I’m sorry I scared you, Minho. That’s never anything I ever wanted to do to you. Now that I know… moving away is good. You won't have to walk on eggshells to avoid me and I won’t send you messages anymore.”

“Did you not want to leave?”

“I’m leaving. It doesn’t really matter anymore. I’ve already got a plane ticket home.”

Minho looked away, eyes unable to focus on the screen, “I’m glad I got to tell you before you left… I’m sorry I didn’t before. You deserved to know. Everyone did but I just didn’t want everyone to hate you. I never told anyone and I just… I don’t think I ever will. I’d rather them think I’m an asshole than hate you.”

“You’re strange. You should tell them so they’ll stay on your side. I know Jisung has…” Chan trailed off, “you should tell them. They’d understand why you hated me so much.”

“I never hated you.”

“Disliked, then.”

“I’m not going to tell them. You shouldn’t either. They really care about you.”

“I fucked up.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Who shoves a hallucinogen down their boyfriend's throat while he’s choking? Who falls asleep on him when he starts to cry?”

Minho swallowed, looking at the corner of the television, “I should have told you. I shouldn’t have just kept it to myself.”

“I’m such a horrible person,” Chan laughed, “I’m… fuck, I’m so sorry. I should go.”

“Don’t go…”

“Minho, I don’t know why you feel sorry for me, but stop. I fucked up.”

“Watching you drop out over drugs…”

Chan pulled himself off the couch, “I’m sorry for coming here.”

Minho was hot again, and he felt his hands start to shake as Chan grabbed his jacket. He wasn’t sure why, but the last half hour had been the best half hour he’d had in months. He didn’t want Chan to leave. He didn’t want to lose contact with him, not like this. 

“Chan.”

Chan frowned, turning to face Minho with one arm in his jacket. He looked like a lost puppy, and Minho didn’t want that to be the last look he saw. 

So he did something unexpected and different, and maybe a little reckless too. Honestly, Minho wasn’t sure why he was doing what he was doing, but it felt right. 

His hands wrapped around Chan’s face, and his mouth pressed against Chan’s. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but in the moment it felt so nice and calming. Chan was nice and calming—despite everything else. 

And Minho felt hesitation from Chan for only a moment before Chan’s jacket slid to the floor, and his fingers trailed Minho’s waist. 

It was a nice moment, a nice feeling. And Minho melted into the moment entirely when he felt Chan’s tongue flick into his mouth. 

It was like Minho was home again, and he’d never experienced a greater rush of relief than he was feeling in that moment. 

Chan was perfect. In this moment, he was perfect. 

It was no surprise that Minho and Chan ended up in Minho’s bed together. Their legs were tangled and hands feeling each other up like it was the end of the world. Maybe it was the end. Chan was going home. And Minho was staying there. 

It was bittersweet. 

“Minho,” Chan pulled away, lips puffy and red as his half-lidded eyes struggled to leave Minho's lips, “should we stop?”

Minho shook his head, sliding himself upright on the bed before sliding between Chan’s legs, eyes locked and breaths raspy as he pressed his hips firmly against Chan’s. 

Chan gasped out, clutching the sheets as his teeth sunk into his lower lip. 

“I think we should keep going.” Maybe Minho was possessed at that moment, or maybe he just really missed Chan. 

“Are you sure?”

Minho nodded, grinding his hips in a circular motion against Chan, watching the older man start to sweat and struggle to keep focus. 

“I’m sure… I’m so sure.”

Whatever was happening, Minho couldn’t stop now. He found himself pulling Chan’s pants down, his fingers trailing the man’s smooth skin before his lips met Chan’s inner thigh, teeth and tongue recalling just how amazing Chan tasted. 

Chan was in a trance, and maybe Minho was too. 

“Minho!” 

Minho smirked against Chan’s flesh, taking a soft bite out of Chan’s thigh before crawling up to look at Chan properly, “may I?”

Chan was so flustered, cheeks coated in pink as he looked up at Minho with lost eyes, “please…”

Minho would push all of his negative thoughts about Chan back, just for a little while. He didn’t hate Chan. He didn’t hate their relationship. He just hated that incident, and after this he would probably never see Chan again. So he would take this one opportunity to pretend that none of that had ever happened. 

“Okay,” Minho whispered back before sliding back down between Chan’s legs and pulling his underwear off, throwing them onto the floor by the bed. He only admired Chan’s cock for a mere second before leaning down and filling his mouth, letting the head of Chan’s cock hit his throat before he hummed, feeling Chan writhe beneath him. 

“Minho… fuck—“

Minho hummed again, his tongue pressing against Chan’s cock as he started to move his head slowly, cheeks hollowing every few seconds. 

“Minho, Minho!” Chan had his hand in Minho's hair, his body trembling at Minho’s action. 

Chan’s precum was sweet, and Minho found his eyes rolling back as Chan started to fuck his throat. It had been a long time since Minho had done this, and he was grateful that Chan was starting to take control. 

“Fuck, Minho… I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

Minho popped off of Chan’s cock, licking his lips and giving him another half smirk. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Chan?” 

Chan was suddenly so fragile and small, and Minho couldn’t help but melt again. 

“Please… please fuck me, Minho.”

Fucking Chan in the past had always been a treat. Chan was so vocal and touchy, and Minho remembered just how much he enjoyed unraveling Chan. 

After Minho had used the lube in his side table to finger Chan until he was a babbling mess at the bed, Minho finally filled him, the feeling of being inside of Chan causing him to hiss and gasp. 

Chan’s walls were hugging Minho like a glove, and Minho could feel his body starting to tremble to match Chan’s. 

They were doing this. 

“Minho, you can be rough, just like you used to…”

He missed him. 

Minho obliged, sliding Chan’s legs on either side of him before offering a deep thrust that caused Chan’s voice to crack through his moan. 

Fuck. 

“Fuck, Minho… fuck.”

Minho inhaled, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling shakily. And then he rammed into Chan, over and over. Chan’s moans were only matched by the sound of their skin slapping together as Minho fucked him. Chan’s nails were dug into Minho’s thigh, and his moans were just a constant chorus of Minho's name. 

It felt so good, and Minho couldn’t help but grit his teeth when Chan came, thick white seed trickling down his own stomach and chest as Chan whined and scratched his nails down Minho’s thigh. 

He wanted him for the rest of the night. 

“More!” Chan whimpered as Minho slowed his movements, hips tiring from the rough succession of thrusts. 

Minho laughed at that, offering a deep thrust before spilling his seed inside of Chan, breath shaky as he leaned over to adjust their position, “can I hold you?”

Minho remembered how soft they used to be. If Minho wasn’t so entranced, he doubted he would ever utter those words to Chan again. 

But Chan lit up, his eyes were so hopeful and his lips parted in a way that made Minho want to collapse. 

“Please do.”

Minno had lost count of the amount of times he had cum inside of Chan. After the first two, he was shaky and overstimulated. He’d spent so much of his time recovering kissing Chan, and keeping himself buried inside of him the entire time. He could feel his own cum leaking out of Chan and spreading onto the sheets below. 

Chan was whispering between their kisses, his body so shaky though he seemed more relaxed than he’d ever been. Minho wished he was more relaxed like this without the drugs. 

He didn’t want to think about that right now. 

“Minho…” Chan whispered, pressing tiny kisses along Minho's cheek as Minho was pressed into Chan’s neck, “I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

Minho hummed again, moving his face from Chan’s warm neck to look at him properly, “me too.”

“Can we sleep?”

“We should clean up, it’s really messy…”

Chan laughed, watching Minho fondly before Minho felt Chan’s fingers in his hair, “I don’t think I can stand in the shower right now. My legs are all tingly.”

Minho slid himself up slowly, rocking his tired hips slightly, “I can get some wipes, do you mind if I fill you one more time?”

“You’re ridiculous…” Chan smiled, laying his head to one side as he watched Minho closely, “one more, but you’re cleaning it.”

“I will.”

After Minho came again, he shakily pulled himself out of Chan, admiring the seed spilling out of Chan onto the sheets before reaching to his desk to grab some wipes and tissue. They didn’t talk much while Minho cleaned Chan up, but once he’d tossed the final tissue into the waste bin, he found himself cuddled beside Chan, his fingers in Chan’s hair as the older man slept soundly. He’d change the sheets and shower tomorrow, for now he was just content at this moment. 

Even if it was their last moment. 

When morning came, Minho wasn’t sure what to expect. He thought that he’d wake up beside Chan, but instead he woke up to cold empty space. 

Cold. 

He wasn’t sure when Chan had even left, but judging by the early time displayed on his phone, it must have been a while ago.

Minho wasn’t sure how to feel when he slid his legs off the bed, the cool wood under his feet causing him to hiss as he stood himself up. 

Why did he feel so empty? 

Fuck. 

Minho pulled on a pair of clean sweatpants before making his way out of his room, walking past Changbin who was eyeing him from his laptop. 

Maybe Changbin knew. 

“How was your night?”

Minho ignored eye contact as he took a cereal box from the top of the fridge, filling his bowl. 

“It was fine. I passed out when I got home.”

“How was Chan?”

It was an odd question, and Minho wasn’t really sure how to answer. 

“I could hear you guys when I came in last night.

Minho swallowed hard, pouring milk into his bowl before making his way to the couch, “was it that loud?”

“Yes. I’m sure the entire floor heard you guys.”

Minho winced at that, sliding beside Changbin with the cereal in hand, “it was just…”

“I was out here when he left. He looked a little heartbroken. I wanted to ask him what happened but he looked mortified when he saw me.”

Minho frowned, “I didn’t know he’d leave like that. I should call him, right?”

“What happened?”

“We just… he came over and we talked. Things were fine.”

“He didn’t look fine.”

“Changbin… I don’t know why he left. Things were okay with us last night.”

“Probably because he’s leaving and whatever you two talked about made him realize it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Changbin—“

“I’m not mad at you, or him… I just know that fucking like that is probably going to make things harder on both of you.”

Minho swallowed hard, taking a sole bite of the cereal before losing his appetite and sliding the bowl onto the coffee table, “when does he leave?”

“In a couple of days. He already has his ticket home and Jisung was helping him pack.”

“Should I go see him?” 

“I can’t tell you what to do, but he looked worse than when you broke up with him.” 

“So I should.” Minho slid himself up, quickly making his way to his room to grab his phone and find Chan in his messages. 

What would he even say? He didn’t want Chan to hate him. He thought last night had been… borderline perfect. 

Fuck. 

Minho inhaled before sliding the phone to his ear, listening to the ring for far too long before finally shifting on his feet and trying again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Until finally, Minho couldn’t manage anymore. He laid his phone down on his bed before making his way to the shower where he’d spend the next half hour crying. 

It was Monday now, and if that meant Chan was leaving the next day, Minho had to see him. Nobody had heard from Chan besides Jisung, and Jisung refused to talk to Minho. So Minho decided to skip class and go directly to Chan’s apartment. 

He had to see him. 

Minho found himself standing outside Chan’s door, eyes scanning the little chip by the peep hole. He had knocked a few times now, and he hadn’t received a response. 

“Chan, let me in?”

There was no sound on the other side of the door, and Minho couldn’t help but frown as he knocked again, “Chan? I’ve tried to call…”

Minho took his phone out after a moment, tapping Chan’s number again and holding the phone to his ear before hearing a ring tone right on the other side of the door. 

Chan was standing right there, but he wouldn’t open the door. 

“Chan…” Minho dropped the phone, looking at the door in front of him, his heart stopping at the sound of a slight sob on the other side of the door. 

Why wouldn’t Chan let him in? Why wouldn’t he just open the door for Minho? Minho had opened the door for him, so what was different now?

“Can we please talk? I’m not mad at you. I’m not…” Minho swallowed hard, “look, I let you in the other day, can you just open the door?”

The door crept open slowly, and Minho’s heart broke at the sight of Chan. He had obviously been crying. His eyes were red and he looked like he hadn’t slept. 

“Chan…”

“I don't know why I showed up at your apartment. I shouldn’t have.”

“Can I come inside?”

“No.” Chan took a deep breath before looking Minho in the eye, “I should have left when you asked me to. I told you to block my number—“

“I thought we were okay… I thought we talked and we even…” Minho stopped, biting into his cheek as he scanned Chan’s face, “what happened?”

“I leave tomorrow.”

“So let’s just talk and—“

“I love you, Minho.” 

Minho paused, staring at Chan as Chan’s expression started to falter. 

“I’m so in love with you, and now I have to leave you. Maybe my subconscious has been trying to fix us for a long time now, but it’s too late. I just need to move on and leave you alone. And you being here isn’t making that easy for me.”

“Chan… I don’t want you to leave.”

“I can’t do anything about that. I have my ticket and my parents are excited to see me and… there’s nothing here for me anymore.”

That stung, and Minho could see the tears welling back up in Chan’s eyes as he said it. 

“I should move on and go home… I need to detox anyway. I think it would be good for you too… I think you should block my number and just move on.”

“Why all of a sudden?”

Chan looked away, “you should go. I have to finish packing some things.”

“I don’t want to go like this—“

“I'm not mad. I don’t… you deserve better. Everything I put you through and rereading everything I’ve sent even though you’ve told me to stop… I’m just sorry, Minho.”

“Chan.”

“I love you, and I hope that you have a great year and graduate and become the best doctor in the world.”

“Chan, stop.”

“I am.” Chan forced a smile, “I’m stopping before it gets too hard. I hope you’re not mad at me but… we both know this is the best thing.”

Minho was burning up, and he didn’t know how to feel about any of this.

“I’ll see you, Minho.”

Chan didn’t allow Minho to retort before closing the door again, and as much as Minho wanted to bust the door down and talk to Chan, he could tell by the sounds coming from the other side of the door that he would just hurt Chan more. 

And he really never wanted to hurt him. 

Minho listened to Chan’s sobs for only seconds before turning and leaving. 

It’s all he could handle. 

Minho clicked his pen, sliding back in his desk chair as he released a deep breath. He’d been working on some paperwork for hours, and he couldn’t wait to take his vacation. 

He’d long deserved it, anyway. Though the location he’d chosen didn’t come without worry. 

Australia. 

Why did he pick to go there? He wasn’t sure if it was the sandy beaches or the cuddly koalas, but part of him wondered if his subconscious had chosen it for another reason… a four letter reason. 

Minho felt dumb to think about Chan after all this time. Well, maybe if Minho hadn’t been dumped just days before he wouldn’t be thinking about Chan at all. But he couldn’t help it. 

It had been seven years since Minho had seen Chan. Seven long years of life that were full of challenges and new beginnings. 

Seven years of Minho forgetting all about Chan. 

It had been easy when Minho started dating, not to mention school kept him busy. But now his mind was flooding with thoughts of his long lost love, and he knew his break up was to blame. He just knew it. 

Minho wondered how Chan was doing. Had Chan gone back to school? Would he even end up close to where Chan was? Minho knew Chan grew up in Sydney, and that’s where he was going, but would Chan even be there? 

Fuck, maybe Minho was an idiot to keep thinking about Chan. He needed to stop this. For fuck sake, he was twenty nine years old with degrees and experience in medicine. He was a fucking doctor who specialized in the heart. He wasn’t a kid anymore. 

He shouldn’t be wasting his time thinking about a past fling—a fling? Chan wasn’t a fling. 

Minho hit his head against his chair in irritation before staring up at the ceiling. 

He needed to clear his head. Chan didn’t matter. All that mattered was his vacation. 

The vacation was all that mattered. 

But if that was all that mattered, why was the first thing Minho did when he landed think about finding Chan? He missed him. He missed him so much—no, that was the break up talking. 

Minho had been in a relationship right after graduating undergraduate up until… just a week ago. This guy was perfect. He was a doctor just like Minho, and not much older, though he was a little older than Chan. He was perfect, funny and kind. 

Perfect until he started cheating on Minho. Minho stayed despite catching his boyfriend multiple times, and he gave him infinite chances, but maybe that made Minho look pathetic in the end. 

In the end of it all, Minho was broken up with, and it hurt. Those first few days hurt so badly that Minho had to excuse himself from surgeries. He felt pathetic, but that man had become his world… and now he didn’t have that anymore. 

So, like clockwork, his mind started to cloud with memories of Chan. 

Chan loved him, Chan had always adored Minho. 

Chan was so…

God, Minho missed him. 

As Minho left the airport and met his cab, he couldn’t help but watch the scenery. Chan had seen this same scenery. Minho wondered how he was again. He wondered if Chan was doing well. Was he still on drugs? Had he gotten clean? 

Minho frowned as he melted into his seat. He wanted to talk to Chan. But his number had changed, and he didn’t have any social media. 

It was like Chan was a ghost. 

What if he was?

Minho hissed at himself, turning to face the window as the cab driver drove in silence. Minho shouldn’t be thinking about him. He needed to relax, not work himself up thinking about his ex boyfriend. 

He had to move on. He needed to let Chan go. 

Even if he didn’t want to.

So Australia was definitely the prettiest place Minho had ever seen. It was so different from his home and everything was so bright. God, it was hot—but that was fine with him. This place was beautiful, and the more Minho walked around Sydney’s street mall, the more he wanted to buy and explore. He already had one arm weighed down with bags of expensive clothes and items he’d picked up around the mall, yet he found himself wandering into one of the bars, exhaling as he slid his bags down to his feet and settled into one of the bar stools. 

Maybe he’d just have one drink before heading to his hotel.

Or maybe he’d have five. 

“Oh!”

Minho was stone-faced and frozen as his eyes locked with the bartender. Maybe he’d passed out from the heat earlier, because this must’ve been a dream. 

There was no way Chan was standing behind the bar looking back at him. 

“Minho?”

Minho didn’t know what to say, and suddenly his throat felt blocked and his chest was starting to heat with anxiety. There was no way he’d walked into a bar that Chan was working, how on earth had he managed that? 

“I would say I’m wrong but… I know that face anywhere.” Chan laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched Minho with worried eyes, “you look like you’re looking at a ghost.”

Minho cleared his throat, biting into his lower lip as he studied the bartender in front of him. 

He looked different. Chan had swapped his dark hair for a blonder shade, and his messy head of curls was now a lot shorter and pushed back, strands of blond brushing against his brows. He looked far more mature, and a lot more put together. Minho supposed that made sense, it had been seven years. Of course Chan looked different. Even his style was different. His usual hoodie and beanie had been replaced and seeing Chan in w black sleeveless shirt that was cut on the sides was definitely surprising. Chan was always so covered up and—

“Minho?”

Minho swallowed, looking into Chan’s eyes, “hi.”

Chan forced a smile at that, “what are you doing here?”

“Vacation,” Minho managed as he shakily slipped his hands onto the bar, “I’m here on vacation.”

“Of all the places,” Chan laughed before sliding a glass from under the bar, “what would you like?”

Minho didn’t know what to order, mostly because his palms were starting to sweat and his stomach was so tight he thought he’d explode. 

“I’ll make you our specialty drink then,” Chan winked before mixing up a drink that Minho couldn’t focus on. He was hyper focused on Chan and how different he looked. What were the odds that he would run into him like this? It felt like a dream. 

Minho's hands shook as he took his drink, eyes not averting from Chan, “how are you?”

Chan was so calm, “I’m good. A little busy but,” Chan gazed at one of his coworkers before looking back at Minho, “I can probably get off early if you’d like to talk. It’s been years.”

“Seven,” Minho blurted before biting into his cheek with embarrassment, “I mean it’s been seven years…”

Chan cocked a brow before nodding and letting his eyes fall onto the counter, “it’s been that long? Well, we have a lot of catching up, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

The feeling was weird. As Minho sipped his drink he couldn’t help but watch Chan work. Chan was so much more sociable than he was when they were in school together, and he was awfully flirtatious which may or may not have made Minho a little jealous—not that he had the right. 

This was all so strange and Minho wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Chan was right there. The man he’d been in love with seven years ago. The man who had told Minho to block his number. The man who—

Minho shook his head, arms crossed at the bar as Chan slipped from around the bar, waving for Minho to follow him as he made his way to a small door that Minho assumed was a staff from or something. 

“Am I allowed here?” Minho asked as he caught up to Chan, hands shaky as Chan pushed the door open, “is this a staff room? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Well, it would be really awkward if I fired myself, huh?”

Minho blinked, “what?”

“I own this place with a few friends. I’m not gonna get in trouble for bringing you into the back to talk.”

“Are we talking here?” 

Chan didn’t answer, instead he ushered Minho into the back before heading down the hall and turning into a smaller room with a table and chairs. It looked like an average break room. 

“You can sit, less noise back here.” Chan laughed as he slipped into one of the chairs, sliding fingers through his blonde hair before his eyes centered on Minho. 

Chan’s expression wasn’t identifiable. Minho couldn’t figure out how Chan was feeling at all about Minho being there. 

Minho sat, trying to shake off his worries as he looked back at Chan, “it’s been so long—“

“Why are you here, Minho?”

Minho swallowed hard, the question wasn’t expected and he couldn’t help but swallow his fucking tongue at the pressure. 

“Vacation.“

“Really? You’re vacationing in Sydney and just so happen to run into me?” Chan laughed again, and it wasn’t helping Minho figure out how he was feeling any more. 

“I had time off and decided to use it. I haven’t taken a vacation since I started working.” Minho wasn’t trying to be defensive, fuck he didn’t know what he was trying to be. He just knew that running into Chan wasn’t on purpose, though maybe Chan did influence why he came to Sydney. 

“So, you just chose Sydney? You’ve always wanted to go to Montreal or Rome, why here? You hate the heat.”

Minho swallowed hard, “I guess I just wanted to—Sydney is a huge vacation spot.”

Chan sighed, sliding back into his chair, legs wide open as he stared at Minho with this look of disbelief, “you want me to believe that this is a coincidence?”

“What’s the issue with me being here?” Minho asked under his breath, his collar tight around his neck and his hands starting to feel exceptionally clammy again, “I’m just here. I didn’t know you would be here.”

“It’s been seven years and I’ve been doing well,” Chan started as he eyed Minho, “It took me so long to get over you and yet you decide to show up out of the blue.”

“I’m sorry,” Minho was trembling, “I didn’t mean to, I really did just wander…” Minho looked down at his bags of items, “I just went shopping for a while and stopped into the first bar I saw. I wasn’t intentionally seeking you out.”

“Why did you come to Sydney?”

“Vacation—“

“Why did you really pick Sydney, Minho? You’re shaking and the look in your eyes when you saw me… fuck, why are you here?”

Minho inhaled before closing his eyes and exhaling slowly through his nose. He knew he chose this place because Chan was here, he just never expected to actually see him. 

“Honestly,” Minho opened his eyes, locking them with Chan, “maybe I did come here because of you. I don’t think I ever expected to ever talk to you let alone see you. My life has been really shitty for the last couple of weeks.”

Chan crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes with intrigue. 

“I was dumped by someone who had been cheating on me for… god knows how long, and truthfully I think I just needed to breathe again. I don’t know why I thought of Sydney. I knew I needed to get out of Seoul and just relax. I couldn’t focus on surgeries and I just…” Minho averted his eyes as Chan’s started to soften, “I don’t know why I came here, but maybe it was because of you.”

Chan didn’t say a word, and Minho didn’t have any more to give. At least not any that made sense. 

“I guess I missed you.” Minho whispered under his breath before wincing as Chan slid up out of his hair and stepped beside Minho, Minho eyes shakily meeting Chan’s for a mere second before he felt warm hands at his cheeks and chapped lips against his own. 

Maybe he was dreaming, or maybe he’d royally fucked up. Either way, he didn’t want it to stop. 

Chan’s hands were so hot, and his tongue was so hungry inside of Minho’s mouth. Minho even found his eyes fluttering shut as Chan pulled Minho up from the chair to shove him back onto the small counter behind them. 

Minho wasn’t sure what was happening, but as Chan kissed him feverishly, he could feel his pants tighten and his body tremble at the feeling of Chan’s fingers running under his shirt. 

Was this because Minho said he missed him? 

Minho bucked his hips as Chan pressed against him, parting Minho’s legs opened at the counter around Chan’s hips. 

Fuck. 

What were they doing? Was this even real? 

Minho’s eyes shot open as Chan pulled back, catching Chan licking his lips before the sound of his zipper caused Minho to feel incredibly warm. 

Fuck. 

“Minho,” Chan grabbed the back of Minho’s head, fingers tangling in Minho’s hair as he watched him with dark eyes, “can I fuck you?”

Jesus Christ. 

Minho swallowed, eyes fixated on Chan’s before he opted to nod. 

With his answer, Chan lowered Minho down onto the counter, pulling him back slightly so that he wasn't smacking his head against the wall. Chan’s arms looked so strong, and Minho couldn’t help but trace the muscles as Chan tugged his shorts and underwear around Minho’s shoes to the floor. 

This wasn’t a dream. 

Minho shivered at the sudden coolness to his ass as Chan stepped away for just a second, Minho in an uncomfortable position on the counter until he was met with a cooling sensation against his rim. 

“You’re lucky I keep lube in my locker, Min.”

Minho couldn’t help but blush, his teeth sunk into  the inside of his cheek as Chan’s finger moved in a circular motion against him. 

“You can make noise. I own this place.” Chan assured as he wiggled his finger inside of him, causing Minho to gasp and writhe slightly. 

“Chan…”

“That’s a start,” Chan cooed, pressing his finger deep before working it in and out of Minho slowly, causing Minho's toes to curl. 

Minho arched his back slightly, his breaths starting to stagger at the attention before he managed to move his fingers to Chan’s zipper, unbuttoning the sole button and unzipping his pants slowly. 

Chan laughed under his breath, a slight pause between the two of them before Minho felt another finger press inside of him, causing Minho to gasp and bump his head onto the counter, a shakier moan escaping. 

“Be careful,” Chan laughed, sliding his hand back under Minho's head, fingers slightly rubbing where Minho had smacked it before working his two fingers quickly. 

“Ch-Chan!” Minho pressed his head back against Chan’s hand, his fingers struggling to get Chan out of his pants. 

“Lemme help you,” Chan leaned down, lips grazing Minho’s lips before the hand behind Minho’s head slipped away and met Minho’s struggling hand, their fingers brushing together before Chan pulled himself out of his pants and guided Minho’s hand around his cock. 

And mother of fucking god—

“Shit…” Chan moaned softly as Minho’s fingers clenched around Chan’s cock, “they feel the same.”

Minho couldn’t help but moan into Chan’s kisses as Chan kissed him, his fingers moving around Chan’s cock slowly as Chan’s fingers worked inside of Minho. Minho’s fingers were starting to get sticky with Chan’s precum, and he couldn’t believe this was happening. 

This must’ve been a dream. There was no way Minho was in this much pleasure. He hadn’t felt this high since… well, since he was last with Chan. 

Chan managed a third finger, and his other hand had slipped around Minho’s neck as they kissed. Minho was in bliss, and he could feel precum leaking down his cock. He needed to be touched. He needed Chan to touch him. 

“Chan…” Minho broke the kiss, his breaths wild as Chan looked down at him, his hair somehow frizzing and the slight eyeliner under his eyes starting to run. 

“Hm?”

“Get inside me…”

It was the most demanding Minho had been since they started this, whatever this was. 

Chan smirked at that, applying light pressure to Minho’s neck before sliding Minho back from the counter, his ass entirely off the counter as Chan slid his hands to Minho’s hips, “as you wish.”

Minho couldn’t contain his sudden cry as Chan quickly guided his cock to Minho’s rim, filling Minho and pressing inside of him so deeply that Minho was gripping the counter and gasping out. 

“Fuck… you still feel so good.”

Minho shuddered, remembering the last time Chan was inside of him. He didn’t really bottom for Chan often, but the times he did had been heaven. And something about Chan in these moments were making Minho want to be fucked and destroyed. 

“You…” Minho shuddered before moaning out, Chan offering a few adjusting thrusts as his nails dug into Minho's hips.

“I what?” He slammed into Minho again, causing tears to fill the corners of Minho's eyes, “tell me.”

Minho caught himself, looking at Chan with what he hoped was absolute desire, “I want you to destroy me, Chan.”

He wasn’t sure why he said that in the dark tone he did, but Chan seems to get the hint. Within seconds Chan was fucking Minho with purpose, and Minho was crying out and moaning Chan’s name with every movement. 

There was ecstasy clouding Minho's thoughts, and he wanted nothing more than for Chan to use him like a toy and then cum all over him—

He should tell Chan that. 

“Ch-Chan, don’t cum inside!” He managed, his head slightly smacking the counter as Chan leaned down to press his lips to Minho’s neck. 

“Where should I cum when I’m ready?” Chan asked, slowing his thrusts as his teeth and mouth started to abuse the skin at Minho’s throat. 

Minho whimpered, Chan sucking the skin at his neck so roughly that he knew he’d be covered in dark marks the second he left this room, “me. On me.”

“Jesus…” Chan laughed at that, sliding away from Minho’s neck to Minho’s dismay before he felt himself being hoisted upright, causing him to cry out and wrap his arms around Chan at the sudden deep hit. 

Chan walked Minho back to the table, Minho glad it could hold his weight as Chan lay him down onto it before sliding Minho’s legs back around his waist and sliding Minho’s shirt over his head. 

“It’s fucking cold in here—“ Minho started before Chan slammed into him again, causing Minho’s mouth to go agape and his hips to rock agaisnt Chan as he stilled inside of him. 

“I’ll warm you up,” Chan whispered before grabbing Minho’s chin harshly and crashing their mouths back together, the table starting to rock with Chan’s thrusts.

Minho hoped they wouldn’t break the table like this. 

Within a few more deep thrusts, Minho came, his seed sticky against his stomach. 

Minho shivered through his orgasm as Chan continued to slam inside of him, his thigh muscles tightening as Chan started to bite into Minho’s lower lip, kisses so deep and messy that Minho was drooling. 

This was all so unreal. 

Chan pulled away after a few more moments, Minho shaky as Chan pulled himself out and started to pump his cock, a slight hiss leaving his lips as he looked down at Minho with dark eyes. 

Jesus Christ. 

Chan had changed so much, and Minho was trying not to fall in love with him again—had he ever stopped?

Minho winced as Chan came, cum stringing against his chest and face. He could feel globs running down his nose and chin, and he knew Chan had managed to get some right over his eyelid, the warmth right against his eye.

It was so warm, and so fulfilling that Minho waited for Chan to finish before licking the cum that had hit his lips. 

“Fuck… I didn’t mean to hit your face.”

Minho studied Chan for a moment before pulling himself up from the table and grabbing Chan’s hips, eyes locked before he made the decision to flick his tongue against the head of Chan’s cock. 

“F-fuck, Minho.”

Chan’s head fell back, his hand prying from his cock as Minho latched on just to slide his fingers back into Minho’s hair. 

Minho sucked against the head of Chan’s cock, the sweet taste of Chan’s cum hitting Minho’s tongue and causing Minho to hum. 

Chan had a tight grip into Minho’s hair, and Minho could see Chan starting to grow weaker with every slurp and suck. 

“Minho… you’re fucking insane.”

Minho hummed again, causing Chan to moan out and pull Minho’s head back slightly, Minho popping off of him and licking his lips. 

And after a slight stare down, Chan was settled onto the counter, Minho sucking him dry as he writhed and whined under him, constant gasps and whispers that he was overstimulated. 

But he begged Minho to keep going, and eventually he started to tremble and Minho popped off of his softened cock to crawl up and lick Chan’s tears away. 

Minho wasn’t really sure what had come over him, but he knew the after would be the worst part. 

Because what the fuck was going to happen next? 

The awkwardness of the after was definite as Minho pulled his shorts up after rinsing his mouth and cleaning himself off in the sink on the counter, embarrassment filling him as Chan sat in the chair behind him. 

They hadn’t exchanged a word, and right after Minho had pulled himself off of Chan, Chan was on his feet and pulling his pants up. 

It was so fucking awkward. 

“I have mouthwash in my locker too,” Chan started as he finally looked at Minho, “and wipes if you need them.”

Minho swallowed hard, “okay.” 

Chan slid up from the chair, going back to the lockers on the side of the room where Chan had gotten lube before returning to Minho and taking one of the wipes to Minho’s stomach. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t have a condom on me. I was all out and… I should have probably stopped.”

Minho swallowed, “I don’t have anything, I test all the time because my ex…” Minho paused and took a deep breath, “I could have stopped it too, but I didn’t.”

Chan ran the wipe along Minho's hip, his eyes seeming to linger, “I don’t think I have anything either. I know it looks bad that I have all this shit in my locker but… to be honest I always used condoms and I’m not…” Chan looked Minho in the eye, “it’s been a while. I’m sorry again.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for…” Minho whispered, eyes locked with Chan’s, “can I ask you something?”

Chan nodded, discarding the wipes and grabbing Minho’s shirt from the floor, “yeah.”

“Can I have your new number?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I need it.” Minho replied, “you disappeared and I just really need it again.”

Chan’s expression was awfully soft, “you need it…?”

Minho nodded, moving his fingers up to Chan’s face to run along his lips, “if that’s okay. I really…”

“Okay, yeah.” Chan pulled back, his cheeks a faint pink shade as he grabbed his phone from the counter and slid back down into his chair, Minho settling into the free one across from him. 

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing… I didn’t come here to fuck you.” Minho started as Chan lay his phone down so Minho could put in his number, “I don’t know why I came here but… meeting you here like this must have meant something, right?”

“Do you want this to mean more? Minho, it doesn’t have to.”

“It’s been… it’s been seven years and for most of them I’ve been living this fantasy life that’s been so…” Minho exhaled, typing in his info, “it hasn’t been what I thought it would be. The first thing I thought of when… it was you.”

“You said you just got out of a relationship?”

“You’re not…” Minho looked Chan in the eye, “this isn’t a rebound.”

“How long were you with them?”

Minho bit into his lower lip, “I was with him for almost about five years.”

Chan’s face fell, “Minho…”

“This isn’t a rebound. He… god, he’s been cheating on me for about three of those years and I was too stupid to leave. He left me and did it for me.”

“How long ago?”

“It’s been about two weeks, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Dammit Minho, yes it does.”

Minho frowned as Chan took his phone back. 

“Chan… please don’t do that.”

“It’s been seven years since I last saw or heard from you, and the second I do we end up having sex.” 

“Did you not want to? You kissed me.”

Chan hissed, rubbing his temples, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“I wasn’t lying. Chan I missed you. I’ve missed you every day since you left and… I think you missed me too.”

Chan looked at Minho again, “did you think you were even on my mind for the last seven years?”

Ouch. 

Minho didn’t say a word, instead he watched as Chan leaned back in the chair and laughed under his breath, hands in his hair as if he was in distress. 

“For the last few years you haven’t crossed my mind at all. Seeing you definitely fucked with my head today, but I’ve moved on. You were supposed to move on too. What the fuck are we doing?”

“I told you I didn’t want you to leave.”

“We were toxic together, Minho.”

“We were kids, Chan.”

Chan shook his head, looking at Minho again, “we shouldn’t have done this. This was such a fucking mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Seven years… you’d think in seven years we wouldn’t still do this but here we are.”

“I told you I missed you.”

“Yeah and I was in love with you.”

Minho slid himself up from the table, “I know. I know that.”

Chan inhaled, sliding himself up and looking Minho in the eye, “I’m not anymore.”

That really stung, but maybe Minho had no right to be upset. Though he could feel himself starting to heat up and tremble again. He didn’t want to be so weak but he couldn’t help it. He missed Chan. He missed him so badly. 

“That’s okay,” Minho frowned, “it’s been seven years. I didn’t expect you to have feelings for me. I just… I thought maybe you’d at least miss me too.”

Chan studied Minho for a moment before shaking his head and grabbing the wipes from the table, “you should go. I need to clean this place up before my coworkers come by.”

“I can help.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You’re being difficult,” Minho managed, “just let me the fuck in, Chan.”

“It was nice seeing you, Minho.”

No, Minho wasn’t going to let Chan do this again. Not again. 

“I'm taking you to dinner tonight.”

“Minho—“

“I'm not taking no for an answer. We’re going to talk—and I mean actually talk. I'm not leaving like this. I know you don’t want that either.”

“You’re the one being difficult, Minho. I’m sorry I fucked you, I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t right and—“

“Clearly you still have feelings for me. Some sort of feelings. Otherwise you wouldn’t have done it.” 

Chan shook his head, “you’re really not going to leave, are you?”

“No.”

“Fine. But I can’t do dinner tonight because I have a gig with my band.” Chan was in a band?! “So you’re gonna have to take a rain check.”

“You’re in a band?”

 “Yes.”

“Can I watch you perform?” Minho asked. Honestly, he just wanted to see Chan. He didn’t want to leave yet. Not at all. 

“You’re not gonna let it go, are you?” 

“No.”

Chan rolled his eyes, tapping on his phone for a few seconds before Minho felt a buzzing in his pocket. 

“That’s the address. It’s not a fake one and you know where I work anyway.” 

Minho read the address a few times before looking back at Chan, “I don’t want to leave like this.”

Chan raked his fingers through his hair again, “I have a job. You should go explore Sydney.”

“Did you miss me at all? What was this?”

“Of course I did. A long time ago…” Chan trailed off before opening the door, “I don’t know if you just needed to destress from that break-up or what but, we can talk later, okay?”

Minho frowned, reluctantly moving towards the door with his bags in hand. He felt so dirty and stupid for doing this, and suddenly he felt ice cold. 

“I will see you again, right?”

“I promise.” Chan sighed in response. 

And as Minho slid through the doorway, he couldn’t help but turn to press the slightest kiss to Chan’s cheek, lips lingering for a few moments before Minho stepped back, “I better see you again, Chan.”

Chan’s face was unreadable again, but Minho could see his brows knit. Maybe he did miss Minho, or maybe he was annoyed with him. He didn’t know. 

“I’ll see you Chan,” Minho whispered as he turned down the hall and towards the door to the bar. He remembered the last words Chan said to him, and Chan was right, he would see Minho again. Minho just hoped that he really would see Chan again. 

Soon. 

Minho hated waiting. He hated staring at the little clock on his hotel nightstand. He wanted to see Chan again. He wanted to kiss Chan again. He wasn’t sure why Chan had invaded his thoughts after the break up like it had, but he didn’t want to complain. He really wanted to see Chan again. 

Why the fuck was this happening to him?

Minho hadn’t been in love with his ex in… fuckin’ years at this point. The break up may have been a blip in his life, but it wasn’t detrimental, and it surely wasn’t influencing him to seek out Chan, right? 

Shit. 

Minho shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat on his warm hotel bed, the time unmoving. 

Fuck it. 

Minho: It’s Minho

: Can I see you now? 

Minho waited for a few moments before worrying that Chan had blocked his number before he finally saw the three dots followed by a saintly discouraging message. 

Chan: im busy

: with my band you wouldn’t want to be here 

His band? Minho wouldn’t mind meeting them. After graduation and with working at the hospital more days of the week than he had, maybe he should see some new faces and make some friends—what was he even thinking?

Minho: Could I meet them? Would that be weird?

Chan: u really wanna see me huh? 

 

Minho’s cheeks flushed at that, but he knew it was true. 

Minho: I’ve run out of things to do. Would it be okay to meet up with you?

Chan: ok ill send u the address

: everyone’s fine with meeting you 

To Minho's surprise, he received the address quickly and punched it into his phone. He could walk there, which was nice. He wouldn’t have to wait for a cab. 

After a much needed shower and a new pair of clothes, Minho was out the door and on his way to the address Chan had sent him. Apparently Chan and his band met up at a music store nearby, and after a quick and nosy search of the owners online, he found out that they were in Chan’s band. 

Minho didn’t mean to be so nosy, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t seen any social media from Chan in the last seven years, and the man he was looking at seemed to have tons of activity online. 

And then he stumbled across a photo with Chan. 

Minho swallowed hard. He’d scrolled quite a bit through the guys Instagram, but he didn’t think he’d stumble on a photo of someone else kissing Chan. And from the information Minho had gathered, the guy Chan was kissing was in the band too. 

It shouldn’t matter. No, it didn’t matter, but then why was Minho’s chest starting to get tight and heavy. 

It wasn’t like Chan was his. Chan hadn’t been his in years, and it was unfair to be jealous. 

But the man kissing Chan was so pretty… and Minho thought he was the prettiest person in the room. He knew he’d have to fight his envy when he got there. 

Was this a mistake?

Fuck. 

Minho shoved his thoughts away as he pushed the door to the music shop open, glancing around before making his way to the back room that Chan told him to meet him at. Already Minho could hear faint music, and laughter. 

He could hear Chan. 

Minho stopped at the door before tapping on it slightly, the noises beyond the door ceasing and the door prying opened slowly. 

Chan. And then the smell of something Minho hadn’t smelled in years. 

“You sure you still wanna come in?” Chan asked, blowing smoke into Minho's face suddenly, “we’re in the middle of practice.”

Minho waved the smoke away, ignoring the smell as he locked eyes with Chan, “it’s just pot, right?”

“Will you get in trouble?”

“I won’t smoke it.”

Chan studied Minho for a moment before prying the door back, Minho sliding inside and glancing around the room of people he’d stalked online just moments before. They were all somehow so different in person. 

“Hi!” The owner beamed, holding out his hand for Minho to shake. His accent was so thick, and Minho nearly gasped at how his deep voice certainly didn’t match his freckled face, “I’m Felix, you must be Chan’s friend.”

Minho shook his hand, “hi,I am.”

“His English isn’t that great,” Chan started, Minho offering him a quick glare. 

“That’s fine, we all speak Korean anyway,” the pretty one that instantly made Minho freeze spoke up, “Hi, I’m Hyunjin.”

Minho studied the man for a little too long before shaking his hand as well, the final member offering a wave from his drum set. 

“That’s Jeongin, he’s not too talkative but he’s really sweet.” Felix smiled, sliding his guitar from around him and laying it against the wall, “you’re Chan’s friend?”

Friend. 

They were hardly anything anymore, but Minho supposed ‘friend’ made sense. 

“Yeah, we went to college together.” Chan responded, sliding down onto a stool before putting a blunt between his lips, eyes glued on Minho as he took a long drag. 

“Oh, so you’re old friends. You went to college ages ago.” Felix laughed, snatching the blunt from Chan to take a drag of his own. 

Minho shifted on his heels before Chan motioned for him to take a seat in the empty stool beside Hyunjin. And reluctantly, Minho settled beside him, trying not to eye the other man at all. 

“You want some?” Felix asked, holding the blunt out for Minho, “it’s really good shit.”

“He’s a doctor, they’ll probably test him when he goes back home.” Chan sighed, waving the blunt away, “you know how Seoul is about weed.”

“Ah, shit okay. Should we stop?”

“No, it’s fine. You guys can keep smoking.” Minho interjected, biting into his cheek as he felt Hyunjin’s eyes on him. 

“Are you Chan’s ex?”

Minho didn’t expect that question, and especially not from the man he was trying to avoid looking at, but with the question he couldn’t help but turn his head to lock eyes with the man with wisping black hair, cut right below his chin and styled in a way that made Minho incredibly jealous. 

“Yeah, I am.” Minho admitted, staring Hyunjin down until the other man’s eyes left him.

“It was ages ago,” Chan replied, “Minho is on vacation so he came by to see me earlier.”

“You two dated? You never mentioned an ex.” Felix blinked, looking at Chan with interest, “he’s cute, what happened?”

Minho caught Chan swallowing, Felix’s question seeming to catch Chan off guard. 

“I moved back home. Long distance wouldn’t have worked.”

Chan mustn’t have told them about the drugs, or much about Minho either. Honestly, it was in the past, and Minho was fine with nobody knowing too much—but how much did Hyunjin know?

“So,” Minho started, trying to shift the conversation, “you guys are in a band?”

“We play venues around town. It’s not anything major,” Felix smiled before taking the blunt between his lips again, “what brought you to Sydney?”

“Vacation,” Minho whispered before pulling a face at the smell filling the room. He was beginning to worry about just being around these guys as they smoked. 

“Minho,” Chan tapped his arm, causing Minho to look at him expectantly, “let’s go outside, yeah?”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s probably too strong for you, let’s go.”

Minho bit into his lip with embarrassment before sliding up from the stool and following Chan out the door, Chan assuring he’d be back quickly as he dragged Minho out the back door, leading him to an alleyway. 

“I’m sorry if it was obvious, it was just really strong and—“

Chan pushed Minho back, Minho gasping as he hit the brick wall, eyes wide as Chan watched him. 

“What do you want, Minho?” 

“I wanted to see you,” Minho admitted, pupils shaky as Chan inched closer to him. 

“Why?”

Minho swallowed hard, “I miss you.”

Chan sighed, stepping back before his fingers moved to Minho’s collar, pulling it down slightly, “I can see your marks. They probably saw them too.”

“I tried to hide them.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like they know it was from me anyway.” Chan ran his fingers along Minho’s skin, causing him to hum in content. 

“Do they know about us? Hyunjin does.”

“You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk to him, why is that?”

“I looked online to see what this place was and… I got nosy.”

“Hyunjin and I dated a while ago. We’re just friends now, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I’m sorry for prying.”

“You don’t have to go back inside, it’s probably too strong in there.”

Minho felt his cheeks heat up as Chan’s thumb ran across his lower lip, Chan’s eyes fixated on his face. 

“Chan, are you high?”

“A little”

“Can I kiss you?”

Chan’s eyes left Minho’s lips, scanning up to look directly into Minho’s, “why?”

Minho slipped his hand to Chan’s waist, fingers brushing under Chan’s shirt to feel his warm abs familiar skin, “because I really want to kiss you. Just for a moment.”

“You just got out of a relationship, Minho.”

“It’s not like that. I wouldn’t lie to you. Can I just kiss you, please? I’m going crazy and I don’t know why I want you, but I do. I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t kiss you. I don’t think I can leave worrying about never seeing you again and—“

Minho melted, the comforting feeling of Chan’s lips against his own absolute heaven. 

When Chan pulled away, Minho couldn’t help but release a soft whine. He didn’t want to part with Chan. 

“Minho, you should go back to your hotel and rest up for the show tonight. I’ll see you then, okay?”

Minho frowned, but opted to nod, “okay.”

“We can talk after the show, and then tomorrow we can do that dinner you wanted to do.”

“Really?”

“How long are you here for?”

Minho hadn’t even thought about that, “I have a week off…”

“A week…” Chan‘s expression fell, his hands sliding away from Minho, “that’s okay. We can have a week to talk and hang out as much as you want…”

“Really?”

Chan nodded, his fingertips brushing against Minho’s, “yeah… I missed you too, you know?”

Minho's stomach was in knots, and he felt so warm but in a good way, a perfect way. He wasn’t even sure what else to say. 

“I’ll see you later, right?" Minho asked, eyes scanning Chan’s features. 

“Yeah, later.”

Chan missed him. 

Minho lay back on his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling with a small smile that hadn’t left his face since he left the music shop earlier. 

I missed you too, you know? 

Minho felt like a teenager, rolling over and burying his face into his pillow as butterflies danced inside his stomach. 

Chan missed him. Chan actually truly missed him—it felt surreal. After seven years, Chan missed Minho too. 

Minho slid his arms around the pillow, sighing at the warmth against his face before he sat himself up and pried open one of the bags of clothes he’d purchased earlier that day. Maybe he’d wear something new. It was awfully hot in Sydney but Minho was sick of shorts and t-shirts. He wanted to wear something cozy, somewhere he could put his hands into. 

Minho decided on one of his new white hoodies and a pair of slim sweatpants. He figured the band wouldn’t take offense to him like this, not that Minho cared. He wanted to be as relaxed as possible, especially if he was seeing Chan again after. 

Chan. 

He couldn’t wait to see him again, and he wasn’t sure why these feelings were grasping at him after all this time. Maybe he had grown up a bit too. 

Minho smiled as he slid his fresh clothes on, admiring himself in the mirror as he cleaned himself up before he rushed out the door. 

The band usually performed at smaller venues, and this was no exception. They were performing at a club right by the beach, a perfect place. And Minho found himself a cozy spot at one of the tables, offering small smiles whenever he saw Chan walking around the stage preparing for their show. 

Why was he so head over heels for Chan? 

As the band started to get together on the stage Minho couldn’t help but fall into a trance the moment Chan’s fingers flicked the strings of his guitar. 

Minho wasn’t sure what kind of band these guys were, but he didn’t expect them to have such a melodic sound. The drumming wasn’t too loud or aggressive, and the guitars were so soothing. And Felix’s vocals were unexpectedly soft compared to his speaking voice. Minho could listen to them all night long… They were so cohesive. 

Minho was so intrigued and invested in every song. This group would surely become one of his favorites. 

He supposed the biggest downside to all of this was after this week he’d be back in Seoul. 

Minho’s face fell at the thought. Next week, there would be no more Australia. Or Chan. He’d go back home and possibly back to a ridiculously busy hospital where his only friends were interns, and everyone treated each other like competition rather than a team. Minho didn’t want to go back. 

Suddenly he just wanted to stay here. It was comfortable and Minho dreaded going home. He dreaded the people and he dreaded the chance of seeing his ex again. 

Fuck.

Maybe the worst part about going back was that Minho knew he would end up fucking his ex again. He knew it. He would beg for him back. He would probably cling to him. After all it was so much harder getting into a relationship in Seoul, especially at his age where everyone had their lives figured out. 

Did he? 

Minho shivered, trying to focus on the music as his thoughts started to overwhelm him. 

He didn’t want to go back. That place wasn’t home. 

But what was he thinking? Chan wasn’t home either. Chan was… yeah, he missed Chan. Yeah, for the past few years he’d wondered where Chan had gone. But Chan wasn’t home. It had been years. Chan was happy here, and Chan didn’t need Minho. 

Fuck. 

Minho slid out of his chair, collar tight around his neck as he rushed for the bathroom. And as his head spun and he entered one of the stalls, he spilled his guts into the toilet. 

Minho spent the rest of the show in the toilet, panicking over the little things and the fact he didn’t have mouthwash to get the sickening taste of vomit out of his mouth. He felt so sick, and he suddenly just wanted to crawl into himself and hide. 

It was a good thing he had a hoodie, otherwise he’d feel so exposed. 

But he was at least comfortable, standing in the stall with his hood over his head and his hands deep in his pockets, fingers picking at the loose strings. 

“Minho?”

Minho let his eyes flutter open, letting himself adjust himself before pressing the door opened and looking at a very worried Chan. 

“You disappeared for a long time… I would have come back sooner but I was busy on stage. Are you okay?”

Minho took a moment to respond, “I’m okay. I just needed to breathe.”

“Are you sick? You look so pale.”

“I might be.” 

As Chan approached him, Minho quickly covered his mouth with his palm. 

“I threw up, don’t get too close.”

“Are you that sick?”

Minho shook his head, “it’s nothing. I should get home and—“

“Did you walk here?”

Minho hummed, “yeah, it’s not that far.”

“It’s scary at night, especially if your English is as iffy as yours.” Chan teased. 

“My English isn’t that bad…”

“You with English. I remember it’s the one thing you just… didn’t enjoy.”

Minho furrowed his brow before sliding the hood from his head, “I can call a cab.”

“Let me drive you back. I said we’d talk after the show and the guys are fine with me leaving early.”

“I’m sorry. They probably hate me,” Minho laughed under his breath before inching back as Chan reached out for him. 

“Take my hand, Min. I won’t bite you.”

Minho snorted, pulling his collar down, “you already did.”

Chan cracked a smile at that, eyes so bright and cute Minho wanted to pass out, “I won’t again. Let me take you home, yeah?”

“Okay Chan.“

“This isn’t my hotel,” Minho sighed as Chan turned into a driveway to an awfully suburban home that was clearly not his hotel. Minho should have known that the turn Chan took wasn’t a short cut.

“You can stay here tonight. Especially if you’re sick. I’ll make you some soup and get you medicine. Lord knows you can’t take care of yourself.”

“I’m thirty, I know how to take care of myself.”

Chan snickered at that, “you’re not thirty till October internationally. You’re still just a kid.”

Minho narrowed his eyes, “you’re just an old man.”

“Ouch,” Chan laughed again before turning the car off and turning to Minho, “let’s get you some cooler clothes and a thermometer.”

“I’m not really sick.”

“You look sick.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Minho admitted. "I couldn’t stop thinking about leaving this place and going back and… it just drove me crazy thinking about how miserable I was going to be again in a week.”

“You’re a doctor. Isn’t that your dream?”

Minho pressed his head against the window, “yeah… but it’s not how I thought it would be. And I have no friends. My social life is… it doesn’t really exist.”

“Do you still talk to the old crowd from school?”

“No. Jisung moved to the states. Seungmin went IA, and Changbin is doing really well but we lost touch… we’re all so busy I haven’t spoken to anyone in years.”

Chan frowned, “I’m sorry. Is that why you came here? Was it actually for a vacation?”

“I don’t know. I think you were definitely a factor.”

Chan hummed, tapping the steering wheel before exiting the car and walking to Minho's side to open his door for him, “well, let’s get you inside so you can clean your mouth and get some sleep.”

“Is it good for me to go inside?”

“We’re not having sex,” Chan interjected, “you’re getting sleep.”

Minho flushed at that, taking Chan’s hand and sliding out of the car, “I didn’t think that’s what we were… you know?”

“Just in case. Just sleep.” Chan smiled, taking Minho’s hand and leading him towards his home.

Chan’s house was nice and cozy. A little messy, but it suited Chan. Minho didn’t know marijuana was illegal here, and if anyone ever raided Chan’s home he’d probably be charged heavily. Chan had pot stashed all over the place. If Minho didn’t know any better he’d assume Chan was a dealer. 

But other than pot, Minho hadn’t noticed any other substance. He wondered if Chan had really rehabilitated himself here. If that were the case, he was awfully proud of Chan. Those heavy drugs had ruined his life, and honestly they had ruined Chan’s too. 

“Did you ever go back to school?”

Chan was settled on the couch opposite Minho, “nah. I wanted to but I got busy here. It’s okay though, I like owning that bar. And I enjoy playing empty shows every other week.” 

“They’re not empty.”

Chan shrugged, “we’re just having fun. It’s a decent time.”

Minho rested his head back into the chair he was settled in, “you’re so different now.”

Chan shrugged, “I’m a lot older. And this place was always home for me, Seoul was miserable.”

“Was it?”

“I really liked you, but the drugs kinda fogged my head. I deserved you dumping me like that.”

“I should have told you why I broke up with you.“

“It’s in the past.”

“I didn’t tell you that I loved you enough.”

Chan winced at that, eyes averting to the ground, “it’s in the past, Minho.” 

“You always said it to me, and I just… did I ever say it to you?”

Chan’s knot brows answered the question for him. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Again,” Chan whispered, “it was seven years ago. We’re not kids anymore. And like I said, I grew out of my puppy love phase. I was just really obsessed with you.” Chan laughed after a moment, “I really wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Minho frowned, “it was endearing. You were endearing.”

“The past. We’re here now… and it’s nice to talk to you. Just talk.” 

“Did you mean what you said earlier today?”

“I’ve said a lot today.”

“That you don’t love me anymore.”

Chan turned to Minho again, “why are you asking me that?”

“Cause I think I still love you.”

The look on Chan’s face made Minho feel awful at that moment. He looked hurt. Maybe Minho had deserved to feel hurt earlier when Chan said he didn’t love him anymore, but fuck Minho would give anything to never see Chan this distraught ever again.  

“Don’t say shit like that, Min.” 

Minho inhaled, sliding off the chair and crouching to Chan’s level, looking him in the eye, “I’m sorry, but I think I do. I don’t know what was wrong with me when we dated, or what’s wrong with me now, but I just know that this feeling in my stomach can only be described that way.”

Chan’s pupils were shaky. 

And Minho leaned forward, closing the space between them and exhaling so suddenly that all of the anxiety that had built inside of him earlier felt like it had all washed away. 

He felt calm, and he could feel Chan calming under his touch, lips pressing back against Minho's needily. 

No sex. This wasn’t about sex. 

This was about Chan. 

Minho cupped Chan’s face in his hands, fingers running along his cheekbones and playing with the strands of blonde they could reach. 

Chan. 

Minho was so content. 

When Minho woke up, he found himself cuddled on the couch with Chan snuggled into his chest, messy blonde bits sticking up and the blanket they’d covered themselves with now a pile on the floor. 

Minho wasn’t sure when they’d fallen asleep, but he did know that Chan was the cutest person he’d ever seen, and he wouldn’t mind waking up next to Chan in his messy ass living room every single day. 

Even though he knew this was temporary. He knew he’d have to leave in a few days. 

It stung, but Minho would just try to enjoy Chan for now. 

His company was worth it, and Minho would work as hard as he could to take another vacation to see Chan again when he could. He just hoped Chan would wait for him. 

Minho just hoped he wouldn’t fall into his old habits when he went back to Seoul. He didn’t want to compete at his job. And he didn’t want to end up at his ex's front door begging for attention. 

He just wanted Chan. 

“Mmh.” 

Chan stirred, lifting his face from Minho’s chest, eyes glued shut as he offered a cute pout, “what time is it?”

“I don’t know, I just woke up, Chan.” Minho yawned, brushing Chan’s hair back before the older man cuddled back into Minho’s neck, “it’s early. The sun isn’t that bright yet.” 

Chan nodded, sliding an arm around Minho’s back, “you’re warm.”

“You’re all sweaty,” Minho laughed, watching Chan’s lips part as if he was falling back asleep. And within moments he did fall back asleep. 

Minho sighed, fixing Chan’s hair before resting back against the pillow on the couch, watching Chan sleep soundly. 

He missed Chan so much. Is this how Chan felt about Minho back then? Constantly asking to see him and needing to be with him at every moment? Was Minho finally feeling that same way? 

All Minho knew was that Chan was really adorable, and he couldn’t help but smile as he started to snore softly. 

Man, Chan was so fucking cute. 

Minho watched him for a while, carding his fingers through his messy blonde hair. He was glad Chan was doing well. Seeing how well Chan had been doing was a weight off Minho’s shoulder. Part of Minho even thought Chan was doing better than he was. Yeah, he was a doctor and he was living his dream but, was he really? Was that his dream? 

Chan shifted again, burying his face into Minho’s chest. 

What was Chan’s dream? Was he living it?

Fuck.

Minho rested back into the pillow, eyes finally leaving Chan to look up at the ceiling. It was cozy here, and Minho could picture himself falling asleep on this couch every night while Chan cooked dinner for them—that was a silly thought. He hadn’t seen Chan in seven years and he was already painting what their lives would look like in his head. 

He needed to sleep and clear his head, otherwise he’d really see a future with Chan. And he knew that was definitely a silly thought, because Minho was going back to Seoul in less than a week. Would he ever see Chan again? 

Stop it. 

Minho needed to stop thinking. He needed to close his eyes and just sleep. He would fall into this fantasy world if he didn’t stop thinking about Chan and how soft and warm he felt against him, and how he smelled like cherries or how his laugh could cure any illness—goddamit. 

His eyes shut tight, and he wrapped his arms securely around Chan like he’d run away at any moment. He knew he wouldn’t, but he needed to keep him right here in this moment. 

Shit. 

Minho was fucked, wasn’t he? 

Absolutely fucked. 

Minho’s grip mustn’t have been tight enough. When he woke up for the second time he found himself under a blanket alone, low rock music playing in the background as his eyes finally blinked open. 

“Afternoon sleepy-head.” Chan announced, causing Minho to spin around on the couch to see Chan settled on the chair tapping away at his phone. He looked like he’d just showered, “you slept forever.”

“Is it really that late?”

“Lunch time. You want to go out with me and catch a bite?”

Minho stretched himself, sitting upright with a slight frown, “can I use your shower?”

“Sure, you can borrow some clothes too if you want. It’s hot today.”

“It’s hot everyday here.”

“And yet you showed up in a hoodie last night,” Chan snickered before pulling the blanket from Minho’s waist, folding it quickly and laying it on the back of the couch, “you’re welcome to use whatever.”

“Mmh, do you have another show today?”

“Nah, but I might go see Hyunjin later.”

“Oh.”

Chan laughed at that, “he’s still my friend, we hang out a lot.”

“How long were you together?”

“Don’t be so green about it,” Chan teased, “jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” Minho flushed, cupping his cheek as it warmed up, “I’m just curious.”

“Less than a year. It was off and on and we were better as friends.”

“Ah…”

“Not as long as you and your ex.”

Minho bit into his cheek, “I guess…”

“Mmh, I’m glad you’re not still with him. Especially if he cheated on you. Don't ever go back to him, okay?”

Minho nodded, though he was sure when he got home the first thing he would do would be to call up his ex and beg for something from him. 

“You wanna go shower so we can go eat?”

“You’re rushing me.” 

“You’re just sitting there,” Chan laughed, tapping at his phone again. 

“Okay, I’m going.” Minho replied, reluctantly sliding himself off the couch and making his way to the bathroom he’d used a couple times last night.

The bathroom was cozy, and getting out of his sweaty clothes and under a cool stream of water made Minho want to melt. Again, he was picturing what it would be like to use this shower every day, and maybe some of those days Chan would join him. 

Fuck. 

Minho hissed, glancing down at himself in embarrassment. Even the thought of Chan had him getting hard. This was so fucking ridiculous. He was a grown adult, why was he acting like a teenager? 

Or was he so used to acting a certain way he forgot how to live—

For fuck sake. 

Minho gasped out as he pumped himself, one hand against the wall as the cool water sprayed his back. What was he doing? 

Just yesterday Chan had been inside him, and the thought of Chan touching him that way had Minho muffling his moan into his arm as he spilled into his palm. 

Embarrassing. 

He hadn’t thought about anyone so graphically and vividly in so long, and maybe it made sense that Chan was the one doing it. Minho craved that touch again. He craved Chan again. 

But this wasn’t just about sex. 

Minho cleaned his hand off, rinsing himself off with another round of body wash before stepping out of the shower and wrapping himself in the warm towel he’d taken from the bathroom closet. 

This wasn’t just sex, not with Chan. 

Minho wanted all of him. He wanted his both and he wanted his heart. Maybe more than anything he wanted his heart again. 

I don’t anymore. 

Chan never really answered Minho earlier. Did he not love Minho anymore? Was it stupid to even wonder that?

He should ask again. 

“You took forever in there, were you getting off?” Chan teased as Minho finally reached the living room again, fully dressed in what Chan had put in the bathroom for him. 

“No, why would you think that?” Minho laughed nervously, keeping his eyes off of Chan as the older man slid his shoes on.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Ah, anything is fine.”

“Chicken?”

“That’s fine,” Minho shrugged, eyes widening as Chan reached for his hand.

“Let’s go, I know this cute pub that has the best chicken parmigiana in the entire world!”

Minho was enjoying the lunch. The pub was pretty cute and the atmosphere was bright and welcoming. Chan had dragged Minho to one of the outdoor tables and though it was hot, Chan’s company and the cool drinks kept him sane. 

He wasn’t used to this heat, and he wasn’t really used to Chan anymore. But it felt so nice and so new. 

Again, Minho was falling into a fantasy. 

“You are fast, was it that good?” Chan asked with a bright smile that reached his eyes. 

“It was, thanks for bringing me here. This place is really pretty.”

“I come here twice a week… expensive, but it’s super nice.”

“You really love it here, don’t you?”

“It’s home. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

Maybe Minho should bring it up. 

“Hey Chan, can we talk about yesterday?”

“Which part? Five thousand things happened yesterday.”

Minho bit into his lower lip, “you don’t love me anymore.”

Chan shifted, crossing his arms on the table, “why are you asking that again?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Did you mean what you said? That you think you…” Chan averted his gaze, “do you still love me, Min?”

“I think so.” Minho answered, fiddling with his straw, “I know we left on such bad terms but ever since I found you again I just can’t imagine leaving. I don’t want to leave.”

“It’s been a day.”

Minho was starting to feel that heat again. He didn’t want to argue with Chan, and he didn’t want to upset him. He just wanted to stay in the peace they’d been in for the last few hours, “I know. But that doesn’t change how we were all that time ago… I really did love you and I still do.”

“You shouldn’t,” Chan frowned, “what are you going to do when you go back home?”

Should Minho be honest? Or should he lie and say he’d be fine. 

“I missed you, you know? I really did and seeing you again has brought a lot of feelings back up with me too but… you leave in a few days. We shouldn’t get too caught up in our feelings.”

“I’m not happy.”

There was a silence between them for a bit before Chan exhaled and rubbed his temples, “I know someone broke your heart, but you can do better. You’ll be okay. You’re pretty and successful and—“

“I know when I get home I’ll end up going back to him. Or trying to, and I honestly think he’d take me back just to continue treating me like shit. And I think I’ll keep letting him.”

“Why?”

“It’s really hard dating in Seoul, and I don’t have friends… I just know I won’t have anything else to do and I’m a little terrified.”

“You’re just… Minho, I'm not the answer.”

“Aren’t you?”

Chan frowned, “why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” Minho laughed under his breath, the heat in his chest starting to catch up with him, “and I don’t know what’s happening to me but in just a day I don’t want to go. Five more days here isn’t enough and I just know that the only reason I came here was in the hopes I would see you… and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Chan.” 

Minho didn’t look at Chan, instead he felt his hands starting to shake and his chest pound. He felt like he was on fire and everything he was saying and doing was wrong. He didn’t know what to say, he just really didn’t want Chan to be upset or leave him again. He couldn’t bear Chan leaving again. 

“You’re so stupid.” 

Minho winced, glancing up to retort before the feeling of warm lips pressed against his own, Chan's fingers under his chin. 

He didn’t want to lose Chan. 

Minho let the kiss consume him, and he let his thoughts drift away as Chan pulled back to look at Minho properly. 

“Let’s go to the beach.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, Hyunjin was meeting me for surfing. You’re coming with me.”

“Why?” Minho asked as Chan smiled at the direction of their waiter, opening his wallet quickly. 

“Because I want you to come.”

“I can’t swim—“

“You can stay on the beach.”

“It’s fine… you can go hang out with him, I’ll just head back—“

“No,” Chan kissed him again, this time on the cheek as he handed their waiter some cash, “you’re coming with me and you’re not leaving my sight.”

“What am I two?” Minho asked as Chan pulled him upright, “Chan, it’s fine. I’m just being a toddler… ignore what I said I—“

“No. Just join me and after we can stay on the beach together for a while. I only have five days with you, right?”

Minho nodded. 

“So let me spend them enjoying every second I can with you.”

“Am I forcing you?”

“No.”

Minho wasn’t sure what was going on between him and Chan. One moment they were pushing each other away, and the next they were giving each other eyes full of love and adoration. 

What the fuck were they doing? Were they still being toxic? Was this worth it? 

Minho bit into his lower lip, staring at the beach as Chan drove, the wind smacking his cheeks. 

He just wanted to know what was happening with them, and when this week was over, what would come of them. 

“Hey,” Minho turned, looking at Chan as he drove, “just relax, Minho. It’s really pretty today.”

Did Minho look obviously worried about things? He hadn’t meant to. 

“I'm fine.”

“You haven’t said much since we left the pub.”

“I just don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Spending time together.”

Minho huffed, “you know what I mean, Bang Chan.”

“Ouch, using the full name on me now?” Chan laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before pulling onto the side of the road, Minho’s eyes averting to the ocean. 

“I just… I don’t want us to falter at the end of the week.”

“You’re the one that keeps running back to me this time.” Chan whispered, turning off the car before grabbing Minho’s face, turning Minho to face him, “don’t think about the end. Let’s just live in the now, yeah?”

Minho traced Chan’s features before offering a slight nod, “okay.”

Chan kissed him again, the kiss brief but enough to make Minho’s heart race, “let’s go.”

The beach was nice, and Minho capped his jealousy as Hyunjin and Chan talked and eventually made their way out onto the water together, leaving Minho alone in the sand. 

But that was okay, it was quiet and nobody was around them. It gave Minho a lot of time to breathe, because Chan was right. They needed to live in the now, not worry about the future. Minho needed to stop drowning in his thoughts. 

Chan was here, and Minho was here. They were together for the moment, and that’s all that mattered. 

Even if it was temporary. 

Minho was settled in the sand under an umbrella Hyunjin had put up, nearly dozing off as he watched the waves hit the sand. As his negative thoughts started to drift away, he found himself getting sleepy. Maybe the stress was keeping him awake. He could sleep here, honestly. He wasn’t close to the water and there was an umbrella. 

He should relax. 

So he did. 

“Minho.”

Minho stirred awake, blinking tired eyes as he caught Chan smiling down at him, hair soaked and raked back though water droplets still managed to hit Minho's cheeks. 

“It’s getting late, wanna head out?”

“Where’s Hyunjin?” Minho sat up, brushing sand from his arm where he’d extended it off of the towel. 

“He had work so he left a little while ago.”

“How long ago?”

“Mmh, maybe an hour?”

“I was asleep that long?”

“Yeah, you’re cute when you sleep.” Chan complimented, “I swam for a bit and when the sun set I came back to check on you.”

Minho glanced around the beach, not a person in sight, “how dark does it get out here?”

“Dark. But I have a flashlight in my bag.”

“Where’s your board?”

“I already packed it up. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Minho rubbed his eyes before settling himself upright entirely, eyes meeting the sunset, “it’s pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

Fuck. 

Minho turned, eyeing Chan as he slipped beside Minho, leaning back on his arms. He looked so in his element. The beach was made for Chan. 

Australia really was his home, wasn’t it? 

“Chan.”

Chan turned, eyes half-lidded. He was obviously tired from the ocean, “hm?”

“You’re prettier.”

It didn’t matter that it was dark outside, Minho could see the pink on Chan’s cheeks. 

Okay, maybe that was from the sun, or maybe even from all the activity of the day. But his cheeks and nose were definitely pink, and he did look a little shocked by what Minho had just said. 

Chan in all just looked awfully adorable, and Minho couldn’t help but slip his fingers under his chin as he leaned into him, their lips brushing against each other smoothly. 

He really liked Chan, and he really liked the soft gasps that left Chan’s throat as they kissed. 

Minho really fucking loved Chan. 

And they found themselves in Chan’s car, Minho’s shirt thrown onto the dash as they made out in the back seat. Even if there was a salty taste on Chan’s skin from the ocean, Minho couldn’t help but kiss and suck every inch he could reach, and Chan was certainly enjoying himself. 

“Minho, I have a condom this time.”

Minho pulled back from where he’d been sucking, licking his lips as he eyed the pink mark on Chan’s chest right above his nipple, “can I top this time?”

Chan’s face was so pink, “yeah, I have lube too. I would suggest showering first but…”

“Fuck it,” Minho whispered before grabbing Chan’s face, slipping his tongue into his mouth as his hand into Chan’s swim trunks, index quickly finding his rim. 

“Minho!” Chan laughed into their kiss, pushing Minho back slightly to reach for the bag on the floor, digging through it before sliding out a small bottle of lube and after a deeper dig, a condom. 

“Okay, okay!” Minho snorted, popping the cap of the lube and coating two of his fingers, Chan adjusting himself against the car door at an angle, legs parted and teeth pressed deep into his lip. 

Minho took no time in pulling Chan’s trunks off, pressing his index to Chan’s rim again, pressing as gently as he could, “I missed this.”

Chan laughed, his stomach muscles tight as Minho pressed his finger inside of him, “I missed you.”

He loved Chan’s voice. And he loved how warm he felt. And he loved how Chan was writhing and gasping as Minho fingered him. Chan was just… Minho couldn’t get enough of him. 

“M-Minho, should I touch you?”

Minho shook his head, his free hand moving to press his fingertips to the head of Chan’s cock, “if you touch me now, I’ll explode.”

Chan hissed as Minho wrapped his hand around Chan’s cock, offering a few gentle pumps as he wiggled a second finger inside of him, “I’m gonna explode too, Min.”

“Hold it,” Minho smirked, leaning forward to lock their mouths again, the feeling of Chan’s precum leaking around his fist as he moved his hand, “don’t cum.”

Chan laughed into the kiss before his arms shakily slipped around Minho’s neck, tongue wrapping around his. 

Minho could stay here forever. He could stay with Chan in this car on the side of the road forever. It felt perfect, and the sound of the waves coming in from the cracked front window were perfect. The sounds of wildlife were perfect. 

Everything… Everything was just so perfect. 

And Chan felt perfect too. 

“Minho!” Chan moaned, clinging onto Minho as he finally pressed himself inside of Chan. And just as they used to, Minho couldn’t help but bury himself as deeply as possible, causing Chan to scratch his nails into him and gasp. 

“That’s my name,” Minho teased, adjusting himself slightly before ramming into Chan, causing him to bury his face into Minho's shoulder, “can you say it more for me?”

“You turn into a monster when you top,” Chan laughed after a moment, wrapping his legs around Minho’s waist, “I missed it.”

“Good.” 

Minho loved being inside of Chan, he missed it. Every thrust and every gasp and moan had Minho trembling with pleasure. Chan had already came in Minho's hand moments ago, sticky white running down Minho’s knuckles as he continued to pump and fuck Chan as deeply as he could. Maybe the car wasn’t the easiest place to fuck Chan, but it was definitely fun. 

The windows were fogged, and Chan was sweating bullets underneath him—honestly, Minho was sweating too. He was so warm he felt like he was going to pass out. 

“Hey, can I turn on the AC?” Minho asked after a few moments, stilling his hand and looking into Chan’s leaky eyes. 

“You’re asking this now?”  Chan laughed, sliding himself upright as Minho pulled out of him and wedged himself between the seats, starting the car and flicking on the AC. 

“It’s hot!”

Chan burst out laughing as Minho settled back into his place, parting Chan’s legs again, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Hey, take that condom off.”

“I thought we were being responsible this time?”

“Mmh, I want you to cum down my throat.”

Minho felt his face heat up at that, “you’re kidding?”

“No, lay back.” Chan laughed again, pressing Minho back against the door on his side, adjusting himself again until he was able to press his lips to Minho’s inner thigh, Chan rolling the condom off of his cock and onto the floor. 

“I’m gonna bust any moment, be careful…”

“Good,” Chan smirked before pressing tiny kisses up Minho’s length, the sudden attention causing Minho to whine and throw his head back. 

“I’m gonna cum, Chan I’m serious…” 

“Do it,” Chan whispered before taking Minho entirely, the feeling of Chan’s throat causing Minho to gasp and tighten the muscles in his thighs. It was so sudden and he could feel his toes curling at the warmth washing over him. 

“Chan… oh god.”

Chan hummed, Minho reacting by bucking his hips and digging his nails into Chan’s scalp. 

“Fuck, oh my god… fuck!” Minho hadn’t had anyone give him head in… a really long time. His ex was big on receiving and not so much on reciprocating, so this felt a thousand times more fulfilling. 

Chan bobbed his head, Minho’s cocking smacking the back of his throat a couple of times before Minho lost it, his grip tight in Chan’s hair as he came. 

He couldn’t contain his shaky breath and embarrassingly loud moan, his body trembling as he felt Chan suck up every last drop. Minho let Chan finish, his body completely spent until Chan finally popped off of him and crawled back up to look Minho in the eye. 

He was smirking, and Minho didn’t even mind that seconds later Chan was pressing their mouths together and feeding Minho his own cum. They used to be messy like this so long ago, and this was only making Minho fall for him harder. 

Fuck. He really fucking loved Chan. 

Spending the next four days with Chan was probably a mistake, but Minho couldn’t help but enjoy every second. 

Every day he’d woken up next to Chan, and they had breakfast every morning before showering together. Chan would go to the beach to hang out with his friends after. And Minho couldn’t lie when he said that he honestly did like Hyunjin. He liked Felix and Jeongin too. He liked watching them perform and being on the beach with them felt so new. 

Minho didn’t have friends at home in Seoul. He didn’t have this. He didn’t have any of this stability. 

But here everything was heaven. 

Every kiss and every touch from Chan was just a bonus. 

Minho had never felt more content in his life, and as the last day of his vacation approached, he couldn’t help but be hit with a wave of emotions and the realization that this was all about to be over. 

When Minho woke up, he couldn’t help but cry the moment he saw Chan’s face. Chan was deep in his slumber, and his lips were parted as little blonde strands stuck to his face. 

Minho wouldn’t see this tomorrow, because tomorrow he would be back in Seoul. And he didn’t want to go home. 

He didn’t want this to end. 

Minho stayed silent, his tears flowing down his cheeks as he stared at the man he was so deeply in love with, the man he’d lost seven years ago. He didn’t want to lose him after spending the most beautiful seven days with him.

Seven days didn’t make up for seven years. 

Minho needed more time. 

He had gotten so comfortable with Chan in these last few days. They hadn’t brought up the past, and they’d just been together. 

Part of Minho wanted to smoke with Chan just so he had an excuse not to go home. He could delay going back so he wouldn’t end up in fucking jail for smoking pot. 

Fuck. 

He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay more than anything, and he didn’t know what to do. Chan wouldn’t let him stay. Chan would tell Minho to go home. It wasn’t fair. 

Minho didn’t want to lose Chan. Not yet and not ever. This wasn’t fair. None of this was—

“Min?”

Minho sniffled as Chan looked at him with worried eyes, his hand moving to wipe tears from Minho’s cheek. 

“It was just…” Minho couldn’t even speak, instead he felt Chan move and pull Minho to his chest, arms tight and breaths soothing against Minho’s neck. 

And they sat like that for a while. Minho emptied his eyes and buried himself into Chan as if he were freezing. Chan was his only warmth anyway, and he didn’t want to let him go. 

The thought of leaving Chan was almost too much to bear. 

“Minho.”

Eventually Chan spoke, causing Minho to slide away and look him in the eyes. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

No. 

“I don’t want to leave.”

Chan frowned, brushing strands of hair behind Minho's ear, “I know. Do you have to?”

Did he? 

Minho inhaled shakily before sliding his hand into Chan’s, “I have a job… I have my parents. I can’t just…”

But he could. He honestly could. 

He didn’t have anything in Seoul, at least not anything that was worth staying for. His parents only spoke to him on holidays, he had no friends, and all that was waiting for him was his messy job and an ex he knew he’d call the moment he landed. 

It wasn’t realistic though. Leaving wasn’t realistic. 

“I want to stay… but I can’t.”

“Minho…” Chan caressed Minho’s cheek, “as much as I don’t want you to leave either, if you can’t stay then… there’s nothing we can do but spend today together.”

“We only have one day…”

“So let’s not waste it crying in bed about tomorrow.”

Minho frowned as Chan pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Chan…”

“Please? We can go to the Ferris wheel you saw the other day. We can go to the top.”

“Okay…okay.”

“Now let’s go take a shower, you’re all sweaty and gross.” Chan smiled, sliding out of the bed and leading Minho after him to the bathroom. 

Minho would try. It’s the least he could do for Chan. 

It was late noon now, and after a quick lunch together they were on the road to the fair on the beach nearby. Minho wished his thoughts weren’t so scattered, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to leave, and as much as he wanted to bury his thoughts he fucking couldn’t. 

Today was his last day with Chan. 

“Min, you ready?”

Minho was losing track of time, so lost in his own thoughts that a whole half hour had gone by. 

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Chan asked, taking his seat belt off and offering Minho a worried look, “are you sure you want to do this? I didn’t mean to force you—“

“You didn’t. I want to, I’m just a little scattered today.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to go.”

Minho shook his head, sliding out of the car and making his way back to Chan, pressing a small kiss to his cheek before pulling away again, “I want to.”

Chan offered a small smile in return, his fingers moving to graze against Minho’s before lacing them together and pulling Minho along. 

The fair was nice, and as scary as the Ferris wheel was for a moment, Chan really made it less terrifying. Minho was trembling for all of five seconds before Chan yelled out with his arms up about how they were on top of the world. Honestly, Chan was a little embarrassing. But he was fun. He was so fun. Minho didn’t even have time to be upset. 

Chan still had that charm from college. 

“Almost at the top, are you excited?” Chan smiled wide, eyes glistening as they met Minho’s. 

Minho couldn’t help but smile back, his hands gripping the bar that was rest against their stomachs tight, “a little.”

“I’ll protect you, Min.” Chan laughed, expression softening as his eyes lingered along Minho’s face. 

Chan was really something else. He was so… Minho was just so absolutely head over heels for him. 

He really was in love with Chan, wasn’t he? 

“Hey, Chan.”

Chan’s eyes were full of stars, and at that moment Minho couldn’t see anything except Chan. Chan Chan Chan. Minho was growing obsessed. Obsessed with the thought of spending the rest of his life with this man, and obsessed with the definition of his plump pink lips in this lighting. 

Fuck. 

“Yeah?”

Minho didn’t answer, instead he grabbed Chan’s face and grazed their lips together before the feeling of melting took over as Chan kissed him back. 

It felt like heaven. 

Chan was heaven. 

Suddenly the ride wasn’t so scary anymore, not even when they stopped at the very top, cool air whisking past Minho’s cheeks. Minho didn’t even notice how scary it was anymore, because he had Chan in that moment.

Everything was just… perfect. 

And when Minho pulled away to look at Chan properly, he felt like he’d never be safer and more content in his entire life. 

“I love you.”

It made sense that their final night together was spent having sex. It was the last time they would ever get to be this close again, and they both seemed to know that. 

Minho didn’t want to let Chan go, and Chan clearly didn’t want Minho to leave either. 

They were stuck. Their affection for one another was so deep. What the hell were they supposed to do when Minho left in the morning? 

Fuck. 

Minho didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go back to Seoul. He knew what would happen when he went back, and he knew that he’d fall right back into the same place he’d been. 

—Miserable, and exhausted. 

But there was thankfully nothing miserable about the sweet wounds coming from Chan’s lips as Minho buried himself deep inside of him, the feeling of bliss filling him as he came, nails dug into Chan’s back.

He really loved Bang Chan, and he was going to hate losing him. 

And honestly, waking up the next morning was the worst thing Minho could ever imagine. Waking up just meant he’d have to leave Chan. He’d have to go back home. This fantasy life was over. 

“Minho, are you hungry?”

Chan had asked that already, but in his defense Minho hadn’t answered. 

“I’m okay,” Minho whispered as he zipped his suitcase, eyes lingering back to Chan who was sitting on Minho’s hotel bed. 

“Are you sure?”

Minho opted to nod, watching Chan with eyes he knew were laced in pain. Chan’s face said it all. 

“Will I see you again?”

It was a question Minho wanted to answer, but he just didn’t know how. 

“How?”

Chan was silent for a moment, and then his eyes shifted to the bed, “we’ll find a way. I just don’t want this to be the last time I see you, Min.”

Minho swallowed the growing lump in his throat, heat rising in his chest as he looked anywhere besides Chan, “I don’t either, but… how are we supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.” Chan reached over, brushing his fingers along Minho’s hand, “this isn’t goodbye.”

Goodbye. 

It felt like one. 

“Can you drop me off?” 

The subject change was a little sudden, and Minho hated that hurt look in Chan’s eyes. Maybe Chan knew that it was goodbye. He had to know. 

“Of course.”

The ride to the airport was silent. Minho was trying his hardest not to break out crying as the beautiful scenery turned into an airport parking lot. He wanted to stay, of course he did. But that wasn’t possible. Staying just… it wasn’t possible. Minho had obligations in Seoul, and Chan had obligations in Sydney. 

They just… couldn’t be together. It wasn’t possible. Not in this lifetime. 

“Minho…”

Minho turned, eyes meeting Chan’s, “yeah?”

“Don’t go.”

Minho wanted to run. 

“You can stay here.”

No, he couldn’t. More like he shouldn’t. 

He had a life in Seoul, albeit not the best one, but it was home. The thought of living in Sydney and away from all he knew terrified him. 

Leaving Chan was going to be so hard. It would probably be the hardest thing Minho would ever do, and Minho was a fucking surgeon. 

But no amount of learning prepared Minho on how to deal with his own heart. 

“I can’t.” 

Chan’s face fell, and Minho could feel his heart trembling in his chest. It could break any second at this point. 

“Okay… okay.”

Okay. 

Minho didn’t know what to say, so when Chan stopped the car, he reached for the handle instead. His lips parted, and he struggled to find the words. Nothing that made sense would come out. 

“Thank you for dropping me off… thank you for spending this week with me, Chan.”

“I would do it again, you know?”

Minho swallowed hard, propping the door open slightly, “I know. I would too, Chan.”

“I love you, Min. Have a safe flight and… I will see you again. You have my number and… can you call me when you land? Even if it’s late… even if you’re tired. Call me?”

Minho wanted to cry, “I will. I’ll call you. I promise.”

Minho closed the door, his hand on the windowsill before he left and walked to Chan’s side of the car, studying the saddened man before leaning down through the window and pressing a gentle kiss to Chan’s forehead. 

The lips would hurt too much. 

“I love you too, Chan. I’m so glad I got to see you again.”

Maybe Chan knew this was goodbye. 

“I’ll see you, Min.”

See you. 

“Yeah, you too.” Minho smiled awkwardly before pulling away from the car, his eyes shaking before they shifted to the entrance of the airport. 

He could stay if he really wanted to, and he really did. 

But it didn’t make sense. 

But it did. 

Fuck. 

It didn’t matter. The life that Minho had pictured with Chan was gone the second Minho walked into the airport, and Chan had given him so much time to turn around and go back—but he didn’t. Instead he was settled into his seat by the window, hands trembling and heart frozen. 

He didn’t want to leave, but he had to—right? 

He didn’t. He didn’t have to do this. He could go. He could go back. He could run off this plane right now and reach Chan. He could do that. He had so much time. He had…

Minho rested back in his seat, eyes shut tight as thoughts filled his head. He was going home. Even if home didn’t particularly like him, he was going home. 

He needed to forget about Chan. He needed to forget about his week with Chan. It was just… a fling. It was all a fling. 

It didn’t matter. 

But the second the plane started to move, suddenly everything did fucking matter. It mattered a lot. Minho found himself crying in silence, head throbbing at the noises around him as he tightened his fist. He suddenly missed Chan. He missed Chan a lot. 

He wanted to see Chan when he landed. He wanted Chan to come with him. 

But that wasn’t fair. Making Chan leave Sydney would be cruel, and Minho would never do that to someone he loved. 

He could have stayed. Minho could have turned his back on his old life. 

But fuck, he didn’t. 

He should. He should. 

Minho bit into his lower lip, burying himself in the corner of his seat. 

He couldn’t. 

He’d lost track of the days that had passed since he last saw Chan. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to see him again, but that just wasn’t realistic right now. That was a fantasy, and this was the real world. 

And in the real world, Minho wasn’t with Chan. Instead, he found himself aimlessly scrolling on his phone, catching glimpses of his co-workers and old friends' lives. He couldn’t help but be a little envious. They all looked so happy, but maybe that was just the facade of social media. 

Maybe nobody was happy. 

Minho sighed, stopping his thumb as a familiar face filled his screen. 

He hated this person, but he also wanted to breathe a little. Since he’d returned back home to Seoul he’d been miserable, and not just because Chan wasn’t there, but because life in Seoul for him was just… no fun. 

But calling his ex over for sex was fun, right? 

Maybe this was stupid of him, but he didn’t care. He knew his ex would come, and he knew his ex would be gone before sunrise. 

He just wanted attention, even if for a few moments. Minho needed to stop thinking. 

He needed to stop thinking about Chan. 

Knock! 

He felt so cheap. 

When Minho opened the door, regret rushed faster through his body than anything else. Seeing his ex should have ignited him with rage, but instead all he wanted to do was drag them inside and bend them over. 

Clearly Minho wasn’t thinking straight. Not when he invited his ex inside nor when he was buried deep inside of them. There were no clear thoughts, only the desire to release all of this pent up distress. But it did nothing. In the end Minho was rolling onto his back as his ex crawled out of the bed and into Minho's shower, telling Minho he could clean up after. 

There was nothing there. There never would be. 

Instead of even trying to fix things the only person that had been on Minho's mind was Chan. It was like no matter what he did, Chan was always there looking back at him. 

But Chan wasn’t here. And this wasn’t fair. 

Minho closed his eyes, ignoring the stream of water until he eventually lost track of his thoughts. He felt heavy, and slowly his mind started to drift away, the lack of noise causing him to hear an uncomfortable riding for only a few seconds before he fell into a peaceful slumber. 

When Minho woke up again, his ex wasn’t there. Why would he be? Of course he wasn’t there. His ex had made it very clear that he was only there for sex. And Minho should have expected that. 

Minho sighed, rolling onto his back and staring up at his dark ceiling. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Honestly he felt dirty, and it wasn’t from the sex. He just felt so incredibly dirty inside, and he wasn’t sure what would exactly fix that. 

Chan. 

Minho really needed to get over Chan. He wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t going to—

Knock knock! 

His ex probably forgot something. 

Minho exhaled in annoyance, sliding out of the covers and making his way to the front door. He didn’t really want to talk to them again. They would probably judge him for not showering yet, or they’d just sneer at him like they usually did. 

Whatever the case, Minho didn’t really want to deal with them right now. 

As he unlocked the door he shook his head, sliding it open and parting his lips to ask what the other man could have possibly forgotten before being stopped dead in his tracks. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t his ex, and it wasn’t anyone that made sense either. 

Why would he be here? Maybe Minho was dreaming. This was just a sick dream that was invading Minho’s head, because no this couldn’t be real, it’s just what Minho wanted to see. 

He wasn’t really there. 

“Min?”

Fuck.

So maybe he was there, and maybe Minho was frozen in place staring back at him. And maybe just maybe he didn’t have a response for him. 

“Hi, I’m sorry it’s so early… my flight just arrived and I couldn’t help not coming here first thing.”

How? 

The man standing at the door shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes lingering from Minho’s eyes and to the floor, “how are you?”

Minho swallowed hard, embarrassment starting to fill his chest as he glanced down at the state of his clothes, “what are you doing here?”

Chan bit into his lower lip before his eyes met Minho’s again, “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

He missed him. 

“Can I come in?”

Minho winced, struggling to avert his eyes from Chan’s awfully sad ones. 

“Let me in, Minho.”

So he did, stepping back and allowing Chan to step inside his apartment, laying his sole bag down beside the door. 

Minho closed the door, shakily slipping his fingers away from the door before turning to face Chan. 

But he didn’t get the chance to really look at Chan, because Chan grabbed him within seconds, their mouths colliding. 

It was heavenly, and everything fell into place for a few seconds. But it felt dirty—well, Minho felt dirty. 

Minho pushed Chan back, cupping his hand over his mouth in embarrassment as Chan offered him a worried look. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“No, it’s not that…” Minho whispered, locking his door and turning to look at Chan properly, “my ex just left, Chan.”

Chan sighed, “Minho…”

“I’m just… I haven’t cleaned myself up.”

“Do you want to?”

Minho bit into his cheek, watching Chan closely, “why are you here?”

Chan approached Minho slowly, his hands sliding up to Minho’s waist, “I already told you.”

“This isn’t good… we shouldn’t put ourselves through all of this. It’s going to become too expensive and it’s just going to hurt us in the long run—“

“Then come back with me.”

Minho frowned, his thoughts starting to fog with all of the fantasies of being with Chan, “Chan…”

“What’s here for you? You said it yourself… there’s nothing here for you, Minho.”

“I can’t just…”

“What if I asked you to marry me? Would you come with me then?”

Minho froze, eyes shaky and thoughts clearing into emptiness. He didn’t know what to say to that, he didn’t expect to hear that. 

“We can’t—“

“We can in Australia.”

“Chan… do you know how hard it would be to just get up and leave?”

“So transfer. I don’t care how you do it, I just… I don’t want to leave without you.”

Minho felt his bottom lip wobble, his chest tight and hot as Chan spoke to him, but he didn’t know what to say. What could he say? 

“Minho,” Chan studied Minho closely before sliding his hand into Minho’s, thumb caressing over Minho’s knuckle, “the second you left I felt emptier than I’ve ever felt. After years of forgetting how much I loved you… one week brought all of it back, hard. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Chan…”

Chan brought Minho’s knuckle to his lips before descending to the floor, Minho’s heart racing as Chan slid his hand from Minho’s waist and into his pocket. Minho felt like he was in a movie. He felt so numb and as he saw Chan being out the small box from his pocket he had the urge to melt into the hardwood below. 

“Lee Minho, you know how much I love you…”

Minho was silent, body trembling as Chan held the box in his free hand. 

“I just… there’s not a day that’s gone by where I wasn’t picturing myself with you in a cozy home by the ocean…”

“Chan…”

“Minho, I really don’t want to be separated from you ever again. So…” Chan popped the box open, Minho’s body so hot he felt like he’d engulf in flames, “would you marry me?”

Marriage. Minho had thought about marriage a lot. It wasn’t possible here, but he and his ex had discussed it before. Nothing ever came of it. 

But now, Minho was staring down at a ring and the promise of forever. 

And honestly, he couldn’t refuse it. Because—it was Chan. It was fucking Bang Chan. How could he refuse? How could he possibly say no? 

“Chan…”

There was a moment where Chan’s face shifted, his brows knitting in worry. Maybe he thought Minho would say no. 

But Minho couldn’t say no. 

“Yes… Chan, of course I’ll marry you.”

The air in the room was so thick, and Minho badly wished he’d cleaned himself up earlier, but even if he felt dirty, he had never felt more free. All at once he just felt… alive. 

Chan’s face shifted, a big grin spreading across and he rose up to face Minho, the ring already snug around Minho’s finger. But the ring didn’t matter, all that mattered in that moment was the look in Chan’s face. 

Pure happiness. 

“Chan… would you like to shower with me?”

Chan nodded, that stupid happy grin never leaving his face as his eyes traced Minho’s features. Features that would only be for him. 

“Okay.”

Minho had never felt more comfortable in his own shower. After scrubbing his skin of his earlier sin, he was being coated in a new one. Chan. Chan’s lips were everywhere, his neck, his back, his hips. Chan’s mouth had coated every inch of Minho, and Minho wasn’t complaining. It was the best feeling in the world. 

And despite the small space, Minho found himself thoroughly enjoying being fucked against the tiles on his shower, nails clinging to the wall as Chan rammed into him from behind, Chan’s own nails dug deep into Minho’s hips. 

There was no greater feeling than being with Chan. Every second felt like heaven, and Minho regretted ever parting with him. They just fit together so well.

Minho never wanted this to end. 

And when Chan buried himself deep inside of him and released a shaky moan as he came, Minho had never felt more at peace. 

He would get to hear those moans for the rest of his life. He would get to hitch Chan and kiss him forever. He’d get to see his smile. He’d have him forever.  

Forever and ever. 

The after was a little awkward, but that was mostly because they were stuck on Minho's cramped couch rather than in the comfortable bed. But Minho could bare dragging Chan into a dirty bed that he’d fucked his ex in just hours before. 

God, Minho had just fucked his ex. 

“Hey,” Chan whispered, helping drag Minho from his thoughts as he caressed the side of Minho’s head, “are you sleepy?”

Minho shook his head, nuzzling into Chan’s touch before adjusting himself and laying his head onto Chan’s lap, “not really. I can’t stop thinking.”

“You should sleep. Think when the sun is up.”

Minho laughed at that, “the sun should be up soon…”

“Mmh, you should sleep till it’s high up in the sky. You’ve had a long night.”

Minho swallowed, “I only had my ex over here because I was…”

“It’s okay… I get it.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have invited him and I shouldn’t have… you just had to come a little late.”

Chan snorted, playing with Minho’s hair between his fingers, “I’m not mad. Just don’t invite him over again.”

“I won’t. I just needed… I shouldn’t even be trying to come up with excuses. I just needed a distraction.”

“Mmh, well you don’t anymore. I’m not going anywhere, Min.”

Minho nuzzled against Chan again before looking up at him, “how did you find me?”

“Changbin.”

“Changbin?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you two had lost touch but he said you’d been living here for a few years. I was lucky you answered the door and hadn’t moved out.”

“He gave you my address that easily?”

Chan smiled, sliding from under Minho to settle beside him, hooking his arm around Minho's waist so he could secure him on the couch pressed against him, “I told him I needed to see you.”

Minho laughed at that, parting his lips before Chan pressed a small kiss to them, Minho’s eyes fluttering at the peaceful sensation. 

“I told him that I missed you,” another soft kiss, “and that I needed you,” another, “I told him I couldn’t live without you. So… he gave it to me.”

Minho studied Chan as he pulled away, his eyes so soft and pretty as the specks of sunlight hit them from the blinds behind them. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Minho.”

“I can’t wait to just… be with you.”

“I can’t wait to whisk you away.”

There was a brief silence between them before they smiled at each other, pure love in their hearts as they pressed their mouths together, eventually falling into a peaceful slumber. 

Minho never pictured himself here again. He thought it was a fleeting memory he’d look back on for the rest of his life. 

But instead of that, he was there. He was settled comfortably in his bed, eyes glued to the man laying beside him with their mouth opened and drool coating the pillow. And Minho wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It had been almost a year since Minho had uprooted his life and moved to Sydney with Chan. Moving had been more difficult than Minho thought, and landing a temporary position at one of the clinics had taken more time than he thought too. But it was all worth it. Despite the hardships and his parents disapproval, Minho was happy. 

Being engaged to Chan really made it all worthwhile too. Chan was his happily ever after, and Minho had woken up every day since he landed back in Sydney just to look at Chan before he woke up ten minutes later. 

Minho couldn’t fight his smile as Chan’s eyes flickered open, “good morning.”

“Good morning.” Chan whispered back groggily before rubbing at his eyes and dragging Minho to his chest creating his face into Minho's hair as Minho wrapped an arm around Chan’s back. 

“How long are you gonna keep us in bed today?” 

“Mmh, just five minutes.”

“Five minutes to you is five hours,” Minho laughed, kissing Chan’s neck before burying himself comfortably into the other man, “that’s okay. It’s the weekend.”

“Minho, I love you.” 

Chan’s voice was a whisper, and Minho could tell he was drifting back to sleep already. 

“I love you too, Chan.”

This was perfect. They were perfect.