Towards the Sound of Dreams

Luhan/Jongin
PG-13
6434 words
This has been in the works for a long time (too long). I am exhausted but pleased. I
don't know what else to say. Happy (very very) belated birthday Mani. Title from
NEWS' 'Full Swing.'

Theres a familiarly satisfying ache settling in Luhans muscles as he finally grinds to

a halt. He breathes in deep, lungs expanding against his ribcage, and then his body
crumples into a tired hunch as the rest of the group filters slowly from the room in
clusters of twos and threes. Theyd worked hard today and Luhan can see it in the
fatigue that weighs down on ten almost identical sets of shoulders.
Yixing is the last to leave the studio, double and then triple checking to make sure
he has all of his belongings before offering Luhan a small thumbs up. Then hes
disappearing through the sliding doors and the studio, just minutes ago pounding
with a thumping drumbeat and the squeak of converse on wood, is blissfully silent.
Theres a soft clearing of the throat and Luhan looks up through sweaty hair as
Jongin saunters across the room towards him. He slides down the wall next to Luhan
and wordlessly presses a bottle of water into his hand. The plastic is sweating and
Luhan glances down, watches as warm beads of water trickle over the delicate
bones of his wrist.
Luhan cracks the bottle open and hes more than aware of Jongins eyes on him as
he downs half of the water with gusto. They remain in companionable silence until
the need to breathe forces Luhan to lower the bottle, spilling tiny droplets of water.
Jongin leans in close, pushing right into Luhans personal space, and swipes a
thumb over the dip of Luhans lower lip, then down over the flat plane of his chin.
Luhan just barely catches the scent of Jongins aftershave under the sharp, pungent
smell of sweat before hes pulling away again.
Thanks, Luhan half gasps. He recaps the water bottle, discards it, and when Luhan
meets his gaze again Jongin is smiling, slow and tired and satisfied.
It feels good, doesnt it? To be practicing again. Jongin stretches back against the
wall as he speaks, flashing a tanned strip of skin. Luhan nods.
The day has finally come. Were having a comeback. Luhan teases, but it doesnt
mask the childlike excitement in his voice, and Jongin knocks their shoulders
together gently. Luhan feels so young in that moment, despite the tiredness that
thrums almost bone deep through his body. Jongin is half slumped against the wall,
half pressed up against Luhan, and Luhan squints down at him, at the dark set of his
eyebrows and the short bump of his nose. He sees the beginnings of a man in
Jongins eyes.

Luhan rests his head against Jongins for a moment, before he blows air into his
cheeks and braces his palms against the floor.
Im still not sure about some of the more complicated parts of our choreography,
though, he says. Jongin hums softly in reply, weight now resting entirely on the wall
as Luhan pushes himself into a crouch and then pulls himself upright. I wonder, he
muses, and Jongin tips his head back to study him, baring the expanse of his neck,
if theres anyone around here that wouldnt mind staying a bit late to help little old
me out?
The grin that blossoms across Jongins face is knowing and he clasps at the hand
Luhan offers with sweaty fingers. He makes to tousle Luhans hair when hes back
on his feet and they grapple with each other, both dissolving into giggles when
Jongin ends up nestled beneath Luhans armpit in a firm headlock.
Ugh. Is this any way to treat your instructor? Jongin barks, but its tempered by
the way he laughs, the sound rumbling all the way up from his belly. Jongin
struggles a bit more and Luhan releases him, delights in his dishevelled hair and
flushed cheeks. I think I liked you better when you still respected me, Jongin
grumbles as he smoothes himself down and then strips out of his hoodie, throwing
the soft cotton at Luhans face.
Come on then, Jongin says from the other side of the room. He fiddles around with
the stereo for a minute, resets the CD theyve been practicing with, and then moves
to position himself in front of the mirror. Jongin flexes his entire body, loosening up
his muscles, and this feels so familiar to Luhan, his body falling so easily into place
beside Jongin as he automatically mimicking his stance. Luhan bares his teeth
playfully when Jongin glances up to check his position and the smirk he gets in reply
holds a promise of so much more.
Luhan does a mental count to three and then the drums slowly flare up again,
rumbling right down to the tips of his toes.
Jongin brushes their pinkies together.
Lets take it from the top.

Luhans career with SM Entertainment begins with what some might call a fateful
meeting.
Luhan prefers to think of it as a lucky chance.

Luhan worries himself sick the night before his contract is due to officially start:
quite literally, if the churning in his stomach is anything to go by. He barely gets any
sleep, body thrumming with a nervous energy that only seems to grow worse as the
fingers on his alarm clock creep ever closer to six am.
He gives up eventually, resigns himself to a couple of restless and hashed together
half hours, and tries not to yawn too obviously as he enters through sliding glass
doors and is immediately whisked away on quick tour around the building by a surly
looking man in a well pressed suit.
SMs concept of quick doesnt seem to quite match up to Luhans, but somehow he
survives, asking polite questions wherever he can and even managing not to fall
asleep standing up. All in all, Luhan considers it a job well done, good first
impression made.
The tour ends outside the dance studios and, after handing Luhan a clear file
bursting at the seams with schedule details and other paperwork, the
representative suggests (although from the tone of his voice Luhan gets the
impression that it isnt actually optional) that Luhan stick around and watch the
tailend of the practice thats going on just beyond the open doorway. Then hes
ambling back off in the direction of the lift, leaving Luhan unattended for the first
time since hed entered the building this morning.
Luhan isnt left alone with his own thoughts for too long. He edges closer to the
doorway and peaks into the room, mouth falling open a little as a mean looking
instructor runs an exhausted looking group of boys through some complex
choreography. Hes just starting to pick up the routine, feet shuffling to roughly
imitate the footwork, when the instructor calls the class to an end.
Some of the boys all but flee from the room, pausing only to grab their bags and
then shoving Luhan aside in their search for freedom. The others trail out more
slowly, barely sparing Luhan a glance as they gather up into little groups, somehow
finding the energy to share a joke with each other as they disappear.
One boy lingers behind, though, making a show of lacing up his shoes and
reorganising his backpack. As soon as the instructor leaves the room hes
straightening up and stalking over to Luhan with a surety to his movements that
doesnt match the soft fringe falling down over his forehead or the too big t-shirt
hanging off his skinny frame.
Who are you? He asks, but he doesnt give Luhan a chance to reply before hes
ploughing on, Im Sehun. You must be new, because Ive never seen you before
and I know everyone around here.

Sehun looks incredibly young and his voice squeaks a little as he stares accusingly
up at Luhan. Luhan just chuckles. His confidence is charming, in its own way.
Im Luhan, Luhan replies, dipping into a bow. I just started today. Luhan pauses.
He can already tell that Sehuns ego doesnt need the boost from the audacious way
hes peering up at him, but Luhan decides to go ahead and give the compliment
where its due. Youre a good dancer.
Sehun preens, pleased smirk disappearing momentarily as he pulls a baggy hoodie
over his head. His hair sticks out wildly when he reappears, but his thick fringe falls
back down over his eyes and Sehun bats at it like an irritated kitten.
I know. You might be nearly as good as me if you work really hard, Lu-han. His
tongue rolls awkwardly over Luhans name, pulling at the syllables in all the wrong
ways, but its strangely endearing and Luhan has to fight down the urge to tug
playfully at his hair.
How old are you, then? Sehun folds his arms across his chest and regards Luhan
suspiciously.
Twenty. Luhan answers, and the way Sehuns eyes light up feels decidedly
dangerous.
Youll treat me to bubble tea then, wont you, hyung? Before he knows it, Sehun is
clamping bony fingers around Luhans bicep and dragging him down the corridor,
away from the training rooms that will soon become like a second home and out
into the fresh spring air.

The two of them strike up a surprisingly easy friendship.

Sehun, despite the ego and unwavering self-confidence, is a sweet kid. He makes a
habit of going out for bubble tea with Luhan at least once a week, where he pulls
Luhan in close and whispers secrets from behind his hand; which teachers dont
mind if youre five minutes late to vocal training, when its safe to sneak out to the
roof when the pressure of everything starts to weigh down just too heavily on the
back of your neck.
Luhan cherishes it, the wry crease of Sehuns eyes when he laughs and the way his
tongue still rolls hopelessly over Luhans name. It feels familiar, in a strange way,
and Sehuns presence helps to chase away the loneliness that still springs up every
now and again, as torrid and unwanted as it had been the day Luhan left Beijing.

Luhan soon learns that not all of the trainees here are as friendly as Sehun.
It manifests as cold indifference, mostly, and its not as if Luhan hasnt encountered
this kind of thing in Korea already, but he still hears the way some of them whisper
about him. Hes heard enough horror stories from the other Chinese trainees to stop
him rising to it, though, so Luhan tries his best to block it out.
Its just that its difficult, sometimes, to focus on learning new steps, on guiding his
voice up into higher and higher octaves, when he can feel their heavy gazes burning
into the back of his head, their voices buzzing in his ears, incessant and hurtful like
swarming insects.
But Luhan is tougher than he looks, has skin plenty thick enough to deal with
nobodies like them. Luhan is more than happy to keep his head down, to stay
incognito, and the looks of barely disguised fury that twist their features are more
than worth it when, less than a year after joining the company, Luhan and Sehun
finally find themselves in the same dance class.

When the day of their first shared class arrives, Sehun grips Luhan by the arm and
drags him bodily around the room. Luhan has grown more than used to this by now
and he allows himself to be manhandled, smiling warmly and exchanging polite
greetings with each new person hes shoved in front of. Hes more than pleasantly
surprised when theyre all returned with gusto.
Luhans half way through exchanging pleasantries with a tiny, wide-eyed trainee
called Kyungsoo when the instructor motions for the class to start and everybody
shuffles into place. The music theyre practicing with today is just starting, an old,
American pop song Luhan recognises from his childhood, when the studio door
creaks open and another boy edges into the room, head hung low and lips
downturned. The instructor doesnt miss a beat, simply restarting the track and
acknowledging the new arrival with a brief, Jongin.
Luhans heard about Jongin. Gossip about SMs golden boy is rife, echoing down
every corridor. The jealousy in their voices is obvious as they whisper about how
hes guaranteed to debut in the next boy group, how hes the favourite of all the
teachers, how there is only a tiny circle of people that have somehow been deemed
worthy of Kim Jongins attention.
Sehun happens to be one of that circle and the name Jongin falls from Sehuns
chapped lips with almost unerring regularity as Sehun tries to regale Luhan with

stories of the mischief he and Jongin have gotten into together, so frequently that
Luhan almost feels as though he knows Jongin himself.
Despite that, Luhan has always looked forward to actually meeting Jongin in person,
to finally being able to put a face to the boy envied by so many at this company. So
Luhan watches as Jongin takes his place at the front of class and when he catches
Luhans eye in the mirror as he glances up from the floor, Luhan offers Jongin his
politest, most welcoming smile.
Jongins facial expression doesnt alter, though, and Luhan watches as he rolls too
long sleeves up to his elbows, shifting his gaze away from Luhan and fixing it on his
own reflection.
The smile fades from Luhans face like melting tar on a summers day as he studies
the firm set of Jongins shoulders, the self-assured way he settles his feet, clad in a
ratty old pair of converse, shoulder width apart. Luhan feels distinctly like hes just
been sucker punched right in the gut. Nobody else seems to have acknowledged
their little exchange, though. Instead, theyre all shuffling into similar stances as the
music rolls into its opening beat and Luhan, stood open mouthed and staring in the
middle of the studio, gets his first glimpse of the talent that has made Kim Jongin so
infamous.
Jongin dances as though its an extension of the way he breathes, as though the soft
lines of his legs and the sharp points of his hands are nothing more to him than a
cold, curling breath on a frozen winter morning. Nothing could have prepared Luhan
for this. No amount of whispering or gossip would have prepared Luhan for the way
Jongin seems to come alive under the harsh studio lighting, for the way his entire
body opens up until Luhan is torn between reaching out to touch and holding
himself back, an eternally silent spectator.
Luhan feels as though he was cast adrift the moment Jongin walked through that
door and now- now hes drowning, powerless to help himself, as if Jongin is some
kind of ancient Siren drawing him closer to his own doom. Luhan gets so caught up
in it, so caught up in Jongin, that he almost forgets where he is and he stumbles
when a shift in the choreography has the entire class surging to the right and
breaking down on Luhan like a wave. Yixing narrowly avoids ploughing straight into
his side and immediately steadies him with a hand on his shoulder and a concerned
smile. Luhan scurries back into place before the instructor spots him, but he can
feel a deep flush crawling up the back of his neck as he looks up and sees the
haughty glance Jongin spares him in the mirror.

Things change very little over the following few weeks.

Jongin isnt always late, only sporadically slipping into the classroom once everyone
else is assembled. Even on the rare occasions that he arrives early, eyes puffy and
hair sleep mussed, he doesnt really socialise much, instead sticking so close to
Sehun and Kyungsoo that anyone would be forgiven for not even noticing he was
there.
Luhan forms his own social circle, albeit more unintentionally, clustering together
with Yixing and the rest of the Chinese trainees, and he observes Jongin silently
from the safety of his own group. Nobody else seems to be fazed by this divide.
They seem used to it, in fact, resigned to the impenetrable ice fortress Jongin has
erected around himself. Even Yixing, when Luhan casually asks if hes ever spoken
to Jongin, just offers him a, yeah. Hes a little shy but we get on well enough. I
guess he just likes to keep himself to himself, and turns his attention back to his
lunch.
Theres nothing wrong with that, Luhan supposes, and Jongin definitely doesnt
deserve some of the more poisonous rumours going if its shyness, not arrogance,
that makes him so unapproachable.
Even still, Luhan finds himself wanting to get closer, wanting to bridge this divide
that exists between Jongin and the rest of the class, between Jongin and himself.
Luhan isnt sure how hes going to do that, exactly, but after a fortnight or so of
daily classes together, its obvious to Luhan that hes going to have to be the one to
extend the proverbial olive branch.
He waits until after class one day to make his move.
Hello, Luhan says quietly. The rest of the students are filing out of the studio
behind them and Luhan watches as Jongin tiredly leans back against the wall. His
movements are languorous and he appraises Luhan with heavy eyelids. Theres a
bead of sweat running down the side of his temple and Luhan swallows tightly, Im
Luhan, and-
Youre a foreigner. Jongin says. It isnt accusatory, as such. The tone of voice is
actually quite mild and, if anything, disinterested, but Luhan is still slightly taken
aback by the bluntness of it.
I- yes. Im from Beijing. Jongins tongue darts out to sweep over chapped lips, but
his facial expression doesnt change. Luhan shuffles awkwardly.
I heard you speaking to the instructor earlier, so I guess I just assumed you were
Korean. His eyebrows arch, but theres no bite to Jongins words. Not like some of
the others, who still whisper viciously to each other as Luhan walks by, voices loud
and scathing, as though Luhan couldnt possibly understand, as though he was
some kind of idiot. At least they have that in common, Luhan thinks wryly as he
looks at Jongin, sees the dark bruises under his eyes.
I studied at Yonsei, so- Luhan explains, trailing off when he sees Jongins gaze drift
away from his face to a point somewhere over his shoulder. Hes startled by the
smile that blossoms over Jongins mouth, the way it lights up his face. It acts as a

stark reminder that Jongin is still so young, that hes being forced to shoulder such
immense pressure when hes barely even reached the cusp of adulthood.
Sehun! Jongin calls out and Luhan turns just in time to see Sehun poking his head
through the open doorway, a tiny frown creasing just above his eyebrows.
Are you two finished gossiping? Im fucking starving over here. He huffs
dramatically and the hot puff of air has his fringe flicking up. Sehun smoothes it
down like its second nature and the image has Luhans lips twitching.
Yeah, lets get out of here. Jongin claps his hand awkwardly on Luhans shoulder
and swings his backpack up onto his shoulders. Later Luhan, he says, almost as
an afterthought. Then hes slinging a comfortable arm around Sehuns shoulder and
Luhan watches as they both disappear from sight.
The sound of footsteps fades along the corridor and, as Luhan collects his
belongings and begins to make his own way home, Jongins beautiful smile is
imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

Luhan isnt quite sure what he was expecting after that.

Jongin is still as quiet as ever. He does make the effort to greet Luhan before class
now, though, so thats something, at least. But Luhan is nothing if not a positive
person and he is more than willing to start with baby steps if it will keep Jongin
shooting that painfully shy smile in his direction.
Summer is beginning to close, oppressive and stuffy, around them; even with the
windows thrown open, the heat in the studio is stifling and the pungent smell of
teenage boy lingers unwanted in the air. The instructor has been running them
through a new routine for a solid week now, but its far more complex than Luhan is
used to and he still feels like the choreography is tying him in knots, spinning him
round and round in increasingly helpless circles.
Luhans stomach is rumbling and his t-shirt is soaked through with sweat by the
time the instructor dismisses them, but he hangs back as everyone else collects
their bags and files out.
Luhan catches sight of Jongin in the mirror as he waves goodbye to Yixing. He strips
his hoodie up over his head and Luhans breath catches as the soft muscles of
Jongins stomach clench. Jongin turns around to dig a clean t-shirt out of his bag and
Luhan swallows around the lump wedged in his throat, forces himself to stare at his

own skinny reflection in the mirror instead of the smooth, tanned skin of Jongins
back.
Are you not going home? Jongin asks once hes dressed. The sound of him zipping
up his bag almost echoes in the tiny studio and Luhan tries to school his expression
into something more neutral as he turns around to face him.
Not yet. I still havent got the hang of this routine, so Im going to stay a little
longer. Luhan feels almost self-conscious admitting that to Jongin, as though Jongin
is some kind of hunting, prowling tiger and he can smell that vulnerability coming
off Luhan in waves.
Jongin appraises him quietly, dark eyes burning into Luhans, and then he glances
down casually at his watch. Go on then, he encourages, those ratty old converse
squeaking on the floor as he comes a little closer and stands a few feet behind
Luhan, just pretend Im not here.
Jongin lets Luhan run through the routine once, and even though hed told Luhan to
pretend he wasnt there, Luhan finds himself unable to focus on anything but
Jongins presence behind him. Luhan feels like his shoes are weighed down with
lead and hes hyperaware of Jongins gaze as he fumbles his way through the
routine. He stutters to a halt when the song ends, and he hesitantly glances up at
Jongin in the mirror, half expecting one of the verbal tirades hes become used to
from the instructors.
What Luhan doesnt expect is for Jongin to close the gap between them in one step,
pressing his chest right up against Luhans back, so that Luhan can feel too
prominent ribs exhaling against his own bony spine.
Youre too tight, Jongin says, placing his hands on Luhans hips and pressing firmly
at the base of his back. You need to loosen up before you can even think about the
choreography, otherwise youre just fighting a losing battle.
Jongin is an immensely tactile teacher and he continues to push and pull at Luhan
until he feels the tension in his back start to subside. Jongin must be able to feel it
beneath his palms because the corners of his full lips curl into a tiny little almost
smile and he drops one of his hands. The other stays nestled at the base of Luhans
spine, and Luhan can feel the pleasant, reassuring warmth seeping through his tshirt.
You need to connect with the song more, too. Youre hitting most of the moves just
fine, but youre too detached. Luhan hardly dares to breathe as Jongin looks him up
and down, the subtle smell of his cologne and the sharp tang of sweat heavy around
Luhans temples. Think about the story you want to tell your audience, what you
want to tell me, and run through it again.
They continue like this for what must be hours, Luhan pushing his body through the
routine over again and again until Jongin is satisfied. Hes a tough teacher, but hes
fair, and a pleased tingle dances up Luhans spine when Jongin claps both palms
onto his shoulders.

Luhan swears he feels Jongin swipe the pad of his thumb over the clammy skin at
the base of his neck, but the sensation is gone as quickly as it had appeared and
Jongin is jogging over to his backpack, rummaging around until he emerges with a
triumphant smile. Luhan almost drops the water Jongin tosses over to him. His
hands are shaking with exertion but he finally manages to pop the bottle open. He
sips at it politely until Jongin encourages him to take more with a little quirk of his
chin and then Luhan tips his head back, swigging down almost half of the bottle.
By the time hes done, gasping a little and wiping at the water thats trickled down
his chin, Jongin seems to have retreated back into his shell and he shuffles
awkwardly as he watches Luhan.
Sehun talks about you a lot, you know. He says shyly, as though admitting that he
pays attention to the things Sehun says about him is some kind of secret.
Luhan smiles softly and screws the cap back onto the bottle carefully. He tries to
hand it back to Jongin, but he gestures at Luhan to keep drinking. Hes a good kid.
Are you two close?
The frown on Jongins face makes Luhan feel as though hes crossed a line,
bulldozed like an ox right over the rickety bridge Jongin has allowed him to construct
between them. But then Jongin nods and says quietly, Hes my best friend, and
that all but confirms Luhans suspicion that Jongin isnt nearly as cold as he tries to
makes out. Jongin looks at his watch again and pushes off the wall. I have to go.
Luhan immediately dips into a bow, but Jongin doesnt give him a chance to speak
before hes shaking his head, hands flapping and ungainly in front of him. Its
nothing, really, Luhan doesnt miss the deep, embarrassed flush that blossoms on
Jongins tanned cheeks as he shrugs on his jacket and retrieves his bag. I dont
mind helping people that are worth it. Youre a good dancer, Luhan.
Luhan gapes, but before he can respond Jongin is gone and Luhan is left alone in the
practice room, clinging to Jongins water bottle and feeling distinctly pole axed.

One thing that remains constant throughout Luhans new life under SM
Entertainment is Sehun.
It had become something on an unspoken promise that they would continue going
for bubble tea together and Luhan finds himself looking forward to it more and more
as the pressure of training starts to ramp up to an almost unrelenting level, even if
he does always have to pay. Sehun is easy to be around, comfortable, and Luhan
treasures that when the tension presses down on his temples until Luhan feels like
he can no longer breathe.

Its this closeness, though, that makes Luhan hesitate as Sehun slides into the booth
across from him and pierces happily through the lid of his coconut milk tea. Luhan
knows there is probably no better source of information about Jongin than Sehun,
but something still lingers, niggling and anxious, that makes Luhan reluctant to just
come out and ask. Almost as though he isnt quite ready to admit to Sehun how
Jongins timid smile runs on a loop in his head when hes trying to sleep, how he can
still feel the comforting weight of Jongins palm against the base of his spine. Its
almost as though Luhan isnt ready to admit to Sehun how he might be becoming
just a little bit obsessed with his best friend.
In fact, the more Luhan runs it through in his mind, the more he feels completely
ridiculous (hes twenty one years old, not a teenager experiencing their first crush)
and the more he most definitely does not want to talk to Sehun, of all people, about
it.
His inner turmoil must show on his face, though, because they cant have been sat
down for more than five minutes when Sehun looks up from his drink and levels a
bored gaze at Luhan.
Whats eating you? He asks. Luhan awkwardly meets his gaze and considers
bullshitting his way out of it. Although hed asked, Luhan knows Sehun well enough
to know that he doesnt actually care enough to not let it slide. But as the silence
stretches between them, and Sehun continues to stare at him with raised eyebrows,
Luhan decides to take the plunge.
Whats Jongin like? Sehun opens his mouth but Luhan interrupts him. Not- not
you know, golden boy Luhan actually does air quotes, the real Jongin, the one
youre best friends with.
Well, Sehun chews thoughtfully and his eyes never leave Luhans face as he rolls
his straw between his fingers. Hes kinda quiet, at first, and that surprises a lot of
people. I think, because hes so good at what he does, everyone assumes hes
gonna be a massive dick, you know? And hes not like that at all. Hes just a normal
guy. He pauses to sip at his drink and then hes staring up at Luhan again. Why do
you ask? If Luhan didnt know better hed think Sehun actually sounded suspicious.
Luhan fidgets with his cup, trailing his fingers up and down the ridges in the plastic.
No reason. Hes just been helping me out after dance practice, so I wanted to know
more about him.
Sehun hums, and the sound is so non-committal that Luhan doesnt know quite
what to do with it. What? Luhan probes.
Thats all? Luhan nods fervently but Sehun just snorts. Ive seen the way you
look at him, you know. Its obvious youve got a raging boner for Jongin.
Tapioca sticks Luhans teeth together and he suddenly feels stifled, like he cant
breathe, but Sehun just ploughs on, as though he cant see the panic written across
Luhans face. This is normally where I tell people theyre wasting their time, but

there must be something about you he likes if hes willing to give up his free time to
help you. He doesnt do that for just anyone, you know.
Luhan unsticks his teeth and gapes at Sehun. Im sure its nothing. Maybe hes just
being nice for the sake of being nice? Luhan tries.
Sehuns expression is deadpan as he stares across the table and Luhan squirms
under the scrutiny. You really dont know Jongin at all, do you? He doesnt just
throw his help around at any old nobody. Sehun noisily slurps up the last remaining
dregs of his drink, then sets it aside and lays his hands flat on the table. Look, Im
not saying for sure that he wants to bone you back, or whatever, Luhan splutters,
but Sehun ignores him again. Im just saying, there must be something about you
that he likes, some kind of potential or something. Jongins been here a long time.
He doesnt just take random chances on cute Chinese boys, hope he gets lucky and
ends up in a group with them. He must believe in you.
Luhan blinks as he lets those words settle over him and hes so dazed that he
doesnt even notice when Sehun pilfers his barely touched tea from right under his
nose.

Leaves begin to fall one by one from the trees as summer draws to a close, bringing
with it a cool autumn breeze that bites at Luhans cheeks as he makes his way to
dance practice, turning them bright apple blossom red.
He and Jongin end up staying later and later after practice. They pull the windows
tight against the seeping chill and dance together until they can no longer stand
and exhaustion settles in the marrow of their bones.
Afterwards they slump down onto the floor and it kind of becomes a thing, their
thing, to lie there for hours, pulling stupid faces at their reflections in the mirror.
Jongin stretches long legs out in front of him, knocking his toes against Luhans
bony ankles until Luhan shrieks and kicks back.
They dont always talk a lot, but the silences that stretch between them are
comfortable as they sit and try to catch their breath, gulping down water from the
same bottle.
There have been whispers along the corridors, rumours that gears are beginning to
crank into motion for the next SM boy band. But they try not to let those voices
break beyond the locked studio door, ignoring them as best they can when the
nerves and the tension of what this could mean are written into almost every inch of
their bodies.

Instead they talk about safe things. Sometimes Jongin will ask him about himself,
about China. He sits, eyes bright and mouth slightly slack with wonder as he quizzes
Luhan about the Forbidden City, taste buds tingling as Luhan counts street foods off
on his fingers, sweet dumplings and tender lamb kebabs, shuan yang rou that
warms you from the inside out during winter.
They bicker good-naturedly about football, Jongin adamant that Luhans allegiances
lie with the wrong team. He crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child as
he says, Chelsea will win the league this year and then well see whos the crazy
one. Luhan kicks playfully at Jongins shoe and the barely there grin as he pulls his
foot away and smacks at Luhans bicep makes something small and pleased flutter
in his stomach.
Luhan finds himself unable to forget what Sehun had said to him as Jongin unfurls
before his eyes like a sunflower, as that shy smile is replaced by a heartbreakingly
beautiful grin that rattles right down to Luhans ribcage. Jongin thinks hes going to
make it, Jongin believes in him, and the weight of that revelation weighs heavily in
Luhans chest. It makes him want to be better.
He isnt going to let Jongin down.

Eventually the private little bubble theyd conjured around themselves bursts.
It becomes impossible to pretend that the whispers havent grown, that they
havent reached their crescendo, whizzing over the heads of every male trainee in
the company.
Jongin is the first name on everyones lips, of course he is, and Luhan feels sick,
stomach constantly churning at the thought of not being included. He works harder
than he ever remembers working before, singing until his throat is raw and dancing
until his legs turn to jelly. The thought of having to go back home to China, having
to face his parents, is bad enough, but now, now he has the added pressure of
Jongins expectation, Jongins belief in him, all of the hours that Jongin has sacrificed
to try and help Luhan become the best that he can be. Luhan cant betray that
trust, doesnt even want to imagine the look on Jongins face if he has to tell him he
hasnt made it.
People keep getting called in to talks with members of staff, disappearing right in
the middle of classes and turning up hours later, lips sealed tight and exhaustion
obvious in their eyes.
Potential line-ups are bandied about; Luhan is in some of them, excluded from
others. The uncertainty isnt even given time to roil in Luhans stomach when twelve

of them are called into a meeting: there are some faces Luhan barely recognises,
others he knows well. Sehun and Jongin are both there, huddled close together.
Sehun, for once in his life, looks sick with nerves. He has his hand clamped tightly
around Jongins wrist and Luhan feels his own fingers twitch.
Jongin looks up and all of the breath is knocked from Luhans lungs by the fire
burning in his eyes. Luhan clings to that and tries in vain to stop his knees shaking.
When the news finally comes, that this is it, that the twelve men stood in this room
will debut as EXO, Luhans entire body sags back against the wall.
Everything blurs together after that. It feels like theyre trapped in that office for
hours, signing contracts and clutching frenetically at each others shoulders in one
final, desperate attempt not to let the sheer emotion of everything finally bubble
over.
Nothing makes sense to Luhan anymore, words like subgroups and teasers and
Chinese market hitting grey matter somewhere between Luhans ears. He feels that
all too familiar drowning sensation and hes about to excuse himself, to beg for five
minutes of fresh air, when fingers close around Luhans wrist and drag him from the
room.
Luhan isnt even given a chance to speak before Jongin pushes him forcefully into
an empty stairwell, shoves him up against the wall, and pulls him into a fierce kiss.
Jongin kisses like hes dying. His mouth slides, hot and wet and open, against
Luhans, tongue sweeping urgently over the bow of Luhans lips. Luhan falls
willingly, hands coming up to cradle Jongins skull, tufts of black hair clenched
tightly between his fingers.
Luhan mewls breathlessly when Jongin steps back. His grip is still tight around
Luhans wrist and Luhan isnt quite sure what to make of the expression on his face.
Whats that look for? he gasps, and his voice is so blown Luhan almost doesnt
recognise it.
Then that almost achingly beautiful smile is blossoming across Jongins face and he
grasps Luhans cheeks in both hands, thumbs grazing over his cheekbones.
I knew we could do it. I knew it. And that admission, the complete lack of a waiver
in Jongins voice, to know that Jongin so whole heartedly believed in him where so
many others had let him down; Luhan can hear the blood rushing in his ears and he
feels a grin splitting his own face almost clean in two.
He grips Jongin by the back of the neck and pushes him further into the stairwell,
hemming him up against the wall. The lack of light makes Jongins eyes shine and in
that moment Luhan has never seen anyone more breathtakingly beautiful in his
entire life.

Luhan captures Jongins mouth, revels in the way his smile tastes like triumph, and
his own lips are bruised and swollen by the time he pulls back to whisper,
We made it.
Jongin doesnt answer, but the relieved laugh that tumbles from his mouth as he
hooks one arm around Luhans waist and pulls him closer tells Luhan everything he
needs to know.
They didnt just make it.
They made it together.