Try To Remember (5/7)
Dec. 20th, 2013 09:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklepox13
He's only twenty-eight when he's admitted to the hospital indefinitely. "To monitor your condition," the doctors say, but Lu Han can read between the lines. When you've been told you have an untreatable, progressive and ultimately fatal heart condition, you know it's only a matter of time.
He doesn't ask how long. He did at the beginning, and the doctors always hedged, citing statistics and saying, "Each case is different." Now that it seems like he has a lot less time left, he doesn't think he wants to know.
His mother is beside herself at the thought of losing her only child. His father isn't much better, though he tries to hide it. Lu Han is always kind of glad when they leave, even if it means he's alone with his thoughts. It's exhausting, putting on a brave front for them.
Things are always quiet when his parents aren't around. His friends, the ones who haven't quietly disappeared as he got sicker, send cards and call sometimes, but visits are rare. "Work is so busy," they say, and it may be true, but they're obviously avoiding him. He can't blame them; he wouldn't know what to do with a dying friend either.
The nurses, at least, take a liking to him. They think he's cute, the older ones from a motherly perspective and the younger ones in a more giggly, blushing sort of way. (He doesn't think his good looks have held up very well to illness, but apparently they're still good enough for that kind of reaction.)
There's only one male nurse, a Korean transplant the same age as Lu Han. He seems more bemused by Lu Han than anything else, but he humors Lu Han's attempts at conversation and sometimes laughs satisfyingly when Lu Han makes a good joke. That's what he does, mostly, make stupid jokes, because it seems eminently preferable to moping around or thinking about where he's headed.
He pries Nurse Kim's story out of him as he checks on one of Lu Han's roommates, an old man who seems to find him endlessly amusing. Kim Minseok moved to China at age sixteen with his family and never left, despite thinking about it often. His Mandarin is accented but fluent, and he gets most of Lu Han's cultural reference jokes, even if he rolls his eyes at some of them. That's how he is, no-nonsense but gentle and kind without fussing. Lu Han likes that.
Another night, when things are quiet and Lu Han can't sleep, he sits at the nurses' station and tells Minseok how his life plans derailed two years ago when he found himself too exhausted to get out of bed for work and learned he was sick and not likely to see thirty. "I guess it could be worse, right?" he says, toying with the edge of the blanket Minseok insisted on wrapping around his shoulders. "There are kids who are born with messed-up hearts and never even really get to live. At least I got twenty-six good years, even if I didn't do much with them."
"Is there something you wish you'd done?" Minseok asks. "It's not too late, not for everything."
There are a lot of things Lu Han wishes he'd done while he still could: traveled more, eaten more delicious and unhealthy food, had more sex, maybe gotten married and had a kid so there would be some evidence left in this world that he existed. He gets lost in that train of thought, and Minseok waves a hand in front of his face. "Don't go crazy. Just something little."
"I wish I'd eaten a lot more cake," Lu Han says. "My mom always said I shouldn't because it's bad for me, but look at all the good that did me."
"Hmm..." is all Minseok says to that. "What else?"
I wish I'd done something that matters, Lu Han thinks. I wish I'd fallen in love so there'd be someone besides my parents to really miss me when I'm gone. I wish I hadn't gotten sick so I wouldn't have to die yet. "I don't know," he says. "What would you regret, if you died tomorrow?"
He half expects Minseok to brush him off like he sometimes does when Lu Han's questions get too personal, but this time he considers the question. "I don't really know either. I guess I'd regret not doing more to help and thank my parents, now that they're getting old. I was a real brat to them when we moved to Beijing."
It's a reasonable answer, but the look on his face tells Lu Han that there's probably more, that maybe Minseok's regrets would be a lot like his.
Minseok is off the next day, but the day after that, a chocolate cake mysteriously appears in Lu Han's room. He shares it with his roommates, saying that one of his friends probably sent it, but he sees the way Minseok tries not to smile when he stops by to check on them.
"Thank you," Lu Han says the next time he has a moment alone with Minseok. "I love chocolate."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Minseok says, but he can't hide the twinkle in his eyes.
Weeks pass and Lu Han sleeps more and hangs out at the nurses' station less. "I miss you getting in my way," Minseok says as he checks Lu Han's vitals. "it's way too easy to do my work like this."
"You could come hang out here where all the cool kids are," Lu Han tells him.
Minseok laughs. "I'd like that, but I think I might get in trouble if I started spending too much time here when I'm supposed to be working."
And that's the end of that, except that a few days later, Minseok appears at his bedside shortly after visiting hours end. Lu Han's parents left twenty minutes ago and he's still trying to get his father's miserable expression out of his head, so he's very grateful for a distraction. "What are you doing here?" he asks. Minseok's still in his uniform, but he has a sweatshirt over it and his bag slung over his shoulder like he's on his way home.
"Are you up for another visitor?" Minseok asks. When Lu Han looks at him in confusion, he explains, "You did say I could come hang out. But I'll leave you alone if you're tired."
"No, I—!" Lu Han rushes to say. "It's okay. It's good. I'd like company."
Minseok's face breaks into a relieved smile that warms Lu Han's defective heart. He takes the chair next to Lu Han's bed, putting his bag down next to him. "Your parents visit a lot, huh?"
"Yeah," Lu Han says, and then, impulsively, "I wish they wouldn't."
"Oh?" There's no judgment in Minseok's tone, just polite curiosity and unintrusive concern.
"I know I’m lucky that they care and want to look after me, but they always look so depressed when they see me. I feel like as long as they're here, I have to pretend everything's okay even though it's...not."
"It seems like that happens a lot, patients feeling like they have to protect their families even though they're the sick ones." He looks at Lu Han with serious, sympathetic eyes. "If you're not okay...if you want to talk...maybe it's easier to talk to someone like me who isn't family or a close friend. So you can, if you want."
"As a nurse?" Lu Han asks.
Minseok smiles a little shyly as he says, "No, as a friend. You don't think I let just anyone distract me while I work, do you?"
For a long moment, Lu Han sits there, words stuck in his throat. His roommates are out of the room or asleep so it's only Minseok listening, but putting his thoughts into words at all is scary. When he finally speaks, it's in a very small voice. "I'm scared of dying. And I'm...angry. I guess I'm supposed to make peace with it, but I don't want to. I want to live and I'm really mad that I can't.
"It's really not fair, is it? That some people live to a hundred and others don't make it to thirty, and some don't even last a year. Sometimes people make bad decisions and bring it on themselves, but most of the time, it's just bad luck. I don't blame you for being mad about it."
It's not exactly comforting, but it makes Lu Han feel a little bit better than Minseok doesn't try to talk him out of his anger. He's tired of trying to have a good attitude when he's dying and it unequivocally sucks. "I always thought I'd have more time for everything. Seeing the world, falling in love, doing something important. But here I am about to die and I don't even know what I did for twenty-eight years." He sighs heavily. "Do you think that when we die, that's it?"
Minseok presses his lips together, thinking. "My parents are very religious. Christian. They're always saying stuff about heaven, and any time I mention losing a patient, they say things like, 'He's in a better place now.' But I don't know. I've seen a lot of good people die here and I'd like to believe that there's something good waiting for them, but...I don't know. What about you?"
"I don't know either," Lu Han says. "If I could choose, I think maybe I'd go for reincarnation. Have a second chance at life so I could do better, not waste any time."
"Well, I guess you never know," Minseok says with a shrug.
"I'll know soon enough," Lu Han says quietly. He tries to stay away from gallows humor (and it's not even really funny), but maybe with Minseok, it's okay.
He's surprised when Minseok's hand comes up to rest on top of his. It feels really warm, but that's probably because Lu Han's hands are always cold now. He expects Minseok to say something, some hollow attempt at comfort, but he just squeezes his hand a little and gives him a small smile. It's probably better that way. When it becomes clear he's not going to respond, Lu Han says, "Thanks. For listening."
Now Minseok's smile widens. "Anytime."
Lu Han's health takes an abrupt turn for the worse soon after. He only gets out of bed to go to the bathroom and occasionally shower, and even that he sometimes needs help with. It galls him, like it isn't enough that he's dying but he also has to have people (usually female nurses) help him wash himself. "Why does it have to happen like this?" he grumbles to Minseok one day, when he comes by in the morning for a short visit after an overnight shift. "If I'm going to die, can't I just get it over with instead of having to deal with all this shit along the way?"
"Well...you're right, it does suck," Minseok acknowledges, "but if you'd just up and died the day you were admitted to the hospital, wouldn't you have missed out on some good experiences? Chocolate cake, making the entire nursing staff fall in love with you, your weirdo roommates, me?"
"I see what you did there." Lu Han can't help smiling a little, as frustrated as he is.
Minseok grins back, but then he turns more serious. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with this. I really am. And I'd much rather you be out there, healthy. But since you're not, I'm glad I got to meet you."
Lu Han thinks he can blame it on the whole dying thing that he suddenly feels a little choked up. "I...yeah. Me too."
Minseok laughs, and Lu Han's not so sick that he can't punch him weakly in the arm. He doesn't mind, though. He's never been good at talking about feelings like that, and he really doesn't want to cry. "I should get going," Minseok tells him, "or I'll probably fall asleep while walking home and run into a pole or a car or something. See you tomorrow."
"See you," Lu Han says. Minseok stands to leave, and as he turns away, Lu Han adds, all in a rush, "Don't forget me. Okay? I don't want to be forgotten."
Minseok turns back to him, and he looks almost like he might cry, which Lu Han has never seen before, but then he swallows hard and flashes Lu Han a smile that's only a little shaky. "How could I forget someone as weird as you?"
Lu Han doesn't know if that's really true, but he decides to believe, and it feels good. "See you tomorrow," he says.
***
When Minseok comes in for his late morning shift the following day, the head nurse gives him a somber look. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this because I know you liked him, but Lu Han died late last night."
"Oh," Minseok says, wondering why it feels like someone just punched him in the gut. It's not the first time he's lost a patient, even one he'd gotten to know well, and it won't be the last.
"He's not suffering anymore," she adds, "and I think you were a big comfort to him in his last days."
Minseok nods, and doesn't say that he had no idea what comfort to give Lu Han when he can't even imagine dying at this age, when his life feels like it's only just beginning. He sets to work mechanically, and he's mostly okay, until he has to go into what used to be Lu Han's room. He takes a deep breath to brace himself, but it still hurts to see the empty bed.
"I'll miss that kid," says old Mr. Li as Minseok changes his IV bag.
"Me too," he says.
He goes up on the roof during his break, to have some quiet and a chance to think, and finds himself thinking of Lu Han's last words to him, and of what he said about reincarnation. Minseok doesn't believe anything in particular, but he'd like to believe that someone as vibrant as Lu Han isn't simply gone. "Who knows?" he says to the silent blue sky. "Maybe I will see you again someday."
14
Minseok has always wanted to visit England, but first he's a broke student and then he's too busy working, and then he gets married and his wife doesn't really like to travel, and then they have kids and can't afford to travel far with them and somehow he doesn't make it there until he's old and grey, retired and traveling with his youngest son and oldest grandson as a present for his sixty-fifth birthday.
He can't walk as fast as he once would have and he has to put on reading glasses to read the signs in museums (not that he can understand most of the English anyway), but he's happy to be there all the same. It's good to know that he's not too old for adventure yet.
They go to see a soccer (no, football) match on the last day of the trip, Manchester United versus Liverpool, and it's every bit as exciting as he imagined it would be forty years ago when he was at the peak of his soccer obsession. The crowd is wild, almost too wild for an old man, but the energy is great and he's thrilled to be there.
Seven rows in front and a little to the left, Lu Han is watching the same game, catching his husband's hand in a death grip whenever things get tense (and not caring what anyone thinks because he's sixty-five and he'll be as gay as he damn well pleases in public, and besides, things are different than they used to be). He's glued to the game, screaming his head off when Manchester United scores a goal, and he never once turns around.
15
The plague is sudden, fast-moving and deadly. The first case is identified on Monday morning, Beijing time. By Saturday afternoon, less than 1% of the world's population is left alive, and those due to some natural immunity, not any success of the efforts to find a cure. The devastation is immense, the survivors left to wonder how they can survive with so few people remaining to run cities that look more like tombs.
China was hit especially hard, though there's no one left to explain why so few people there were immune. Lu Han's parents are gone, and his other relatives and his friends and his coworkers and his former classmates. So many people are gone, leaving Beijing eerily silent.
He meets Kim Minseok while scrounging through picked-over shelves in a grocery store. He thinks the place is empty, but then there's a crash and he's surprised to hear someone curse in Korean. He hurries over and finds a man on the floor with a pile of noodle packages around him and tears threatening to overflow in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Lu Han asks, first automatically in Mandarin, and then, once he thinks about it, in Korean. His Korean is more than a little rusty, but he remembers that much.
The man looks up at him in shock. "You speak Korean?" he asks.
"Some. Are you okay?" Lu Han asks again, offering him a hand up.
Minseok is thirty-two years old, the same as Lu Han, he learns as they share a stale bag of rice crackers back in Lu Han's apartment. He was visiting Beijing with his sister when the plague broke out, and the airports closed down so fast they weren't able to get home. Lu Han doesn't need to ask what happened to his sister; it's written all over Minseok's face in lines of sorrow.
"I was starting to think I'd never hear someone speak Korean again," Minseok tells him. "Not that many people have tried to talk to me in any language lately."
Lu Han hasn't talked to anyone in a long time either, so he eagerly tells Minseok about his time studying in Korea what feels like a lifetime ago. It's nice to have an actual conversation again, and even nicer how Minseok's eyes light up at the mention of familiar places in Seoul. It's not anywhere near enough to make them forget about the new reality of the world, but it's something.
Minseok stays with him because he has nowhere else to go, and because Lu Han has always hated being alone. His apartment isn't made for two people, but it's clean enough and there's still running water even though the electricity and gas are questionable, and no one has died here, which is more than can be said for the many abandoned houses they could move into.
There's not much to do these days besides survive, so they spend a lot of time just talking, sometimes about the past and sometimes about the future, like how maybe when winter is over they'll plant a garden so they can taste fresh vegetables after living without them for months. They talk about banding together with other survivors, about finding a way for the world to survive in spite of everything, and maybe it's all pipe dreams, but it's easier to keep going when there's some hope left.
They kiss for the first time in the middle of the night, when Lu Han wakes from a nightmare that fades the moment he opens his eyes and leaves him with only a desperate need for comfort. There was a time, before everything fell apart, when he was too afraid to try kissing another man, but now a little thing like that seems so insignificant. He doesn't know if that's true for Minseok, if he wanted this before or if he'll only take what he can get now, but he doesn't push Lu Han away and that's all that matters.
They have sex later that day, after finding condoms and lube in the worryingly-empty supermarket, and it's rushed and a little too intense, but for the first time in too long, even if it's just for a few brief moments, Lu Han can forget about everything else.
"It's weird, isn't it?" Minseok says a few weeks later as they lie in bed with their limbs tangled together, naked under a big pile of blankets to fight off the cold of February. "Thinking that we probably never would've met if not for everything."
Lu Han could never be grateful for the death of so many people, and he'd undo it all in an instant if he could, but with Minseok warm against his side, it's hard to imagine a different life where they're nothing more than strangers to each other. "I don't know," he says. "Maybe we still would've found a way." There's no basis for that at all, but he wants to believe it, wants to think that he and Minseok could be together in a world where there aren't uncounted billions dead.
Minseok doesn't say anything, but he snuggles a little bit closer to Lu Han, and that's enough.
The second wave of the plague (or maybe a new one; it hardly matters) comes seven months after the first, and they're not immune this time. Minseok gets sick first, but less than an hour later, Lu Han is also feverish to the point of hallucinating. They're both lying in Lu Han's bed, too weak to move, and Minseok wavers in Lu Han's vision. His hair looks green, then blond, longer and then shorter, his clothes stretching and shrinking and dancing through all colors of the rainbow. He wants to ask Minseok if he's seeing the same thing, but he's already too far gone to talk, sweating and shivering at the same time.
It's dizzying, so Lu Han hugs Minseok close enough that he can't see anymore, ignoring the heat radiating off his body. "Don't leave me," he murmurs into Minseok's hair (jet black now, and streaked with red a second later), but he knows deep down that it's already too late for both of them. At least, he thinks, he won't have to be alone for long.
Minseok is shivering violently now even though he's so hot, and then he goes still with shocking suddenness. Lu Han just holds him close, as tight as he can manage. It's not long before he starts to shiver too, deep, unbearable cold settling into his bones. The last thing he thinks before blackness takes him is, Maybe next time.
16
Lu Han doesn't know what makes the kid immediately catch his attention. He looks too young to be out on the streets in not enough clothing for a late fall night, lounging casually-but-not-really against a building and eyeing the men who walk past. There are prettier guys around who would be happy to follow Lu Han home (or to a hotel or even down a sufficiently dark alley), but there's something about this boy, with his slim build and catlike eyes enhanced by eyeliner. His eyes don't look young, and there's something in them that draws Lu Han to him.
He rolls down his window as he pulls up in front of the boy, who looks coolly at him even though his posture goes a little tense. "Can I help you with something?" he asks, words laced with suggestion in case there was any doubt about what he's doing on this street.
"Are you even old enough?" Lu Han asks.
The boy gives a short, largely humorless laugh. "I'm twenty-four, so if you want an innocent little kid, you're barking up the wrong tree."
Lu Han laughs too, genuinely. "I'm twenty-four too, so I don't need innocent."
"Then...you want me?"
Lu Han considers for only a moment before he says yes, unlocking the door to let the boy in. "Got a name?" he asks.
"Min," the boy says, and when Lu Han flashes him a skeptical look, he adds, "It's half my name, anyway. I only give the other half to people I really like." He smiles a little, and it's crooked and doesn't fit his cool attitude but Lu Han likes it anyway. Then he asks, "You?"
"Lu Han," he says.
The boy, Min if that's what he wants to be called, cocks his head curiously. "Chinese?"
"Yeah," Lu Han says. "And that's my whole name so I guess I must like you." He doesn't know where that came from, why he's saying flirtatious things to a whore off the street who's probably used to men just fucking him hard and not giving a damn what he has to say, but there it is.
"Good to know," Min says.
They drive in silence the rest of the way to Lu Han's apartment. It's not far; he doesn't make enough money to live in a nicer part of town. They climb up three flights of stairs and Lu Han's afraid someone will see him and know what's going on, but it's a Saturday night and his neighbors seem to have better things to do than wait around to judge him.
They go into his apartment and then Lu Han stands awkwardly in the small space that passes for his living room and kitchen, not sure what to do next. Min looks at him, and when it becomes clear that Lu Han isn't going to start anything, asks, "Is this your first time?"
"It's not—" Lu Han starts, defensively, because it's not like he's a virgin, but then he realizes what the question is. "Oh. Yeah. I've never..."
"Brought a whore home?" Min finishes for him, with a bit of a smirk.
"Yeah." This is awkward, he thinks, and wonders if this was a bad idea. His hand doesn't particularly satisfy him, but at least he doesn't have to talk to it.
"Relax," Min says, stepping forward and putting a hand on his arm. "I don't have high expectations. You're actually talking to me, so you're already doing better than a lot of customers. Just tell me what you want."
Lu Han wets his lips and tells himself to stop acting like an awkward teenager. He can pussyfoot around it all he wants, but there's only one reason he went to the red light district tonight. "Take off your clothes," he said, relieved that his voice comes out deep and steady. "I want to see you."
It's cold in the apartment, but Min doesn't hesitate as he unwraps his scarf and pulls off his sweatshirt. He's wearing only a thin tank top underneath, and his arms and torso are more well-muscled than Lu Han expected. The tank top comes off quickly, then his jeans, and he's not wearing underwear, so that leaves him naked, within arms reach of Lu Han. "You can touch," he says, "if you want."
So Lu Han does, running hands along his arms and down his chest, tweaking a nipple hard enough that he gasps. Emboldened, he drops his hands to Min's hips and bends down to taste the skin of his neck. He's not sure if kissing is allowed, but this seems to be, at least. Min tips his head back and Lu Han traces his collarbones with his tongue. He doesn't know if the hitch in Min's breathing is artifice or a genuine reaction, but he enjoys it, in any case.
It's too cramped here, so he pulls back and points down the hallway, saying "My bedroom's there," as if there's anywhere else to go in the small apartment. Min obediently turns and walks to the bedroom, and Lu Han follows him. He feels weird still being fully dressed, so he strips off his own clothes. He feels the bite of the cold air against his skin now, so he hurries to press himself against Min, whose body is warm in spite of the chill, and they fall onto the bed together.
It's weird, if he thinks about it too hard, but it's been too long since he's had sex, too long even since he's had much in the way of human contact, so it feels good. Min takes control now, propping himself up above Lu Han (and oh, yes, those arms) and pressing kisses down his neck and chest, sucking expertly at his nipples. He's good with his mouth, and that thought plus the attention has Lu Han getting hard fast.
Min has to notice, but he takes his sweet time meandering down Lu Han's stomach, scraping his teeth a little over Lu Han's hipbone. "Do you want it?" he murmurs, lips brushing Lu Han's skin, and fuck, that's hot.
"Please," he says, his voice coming out breathy.
"Got a condom?" It breaks the moment for Lu Han to have to pull away and dig around in the drawer by his bed for the box of condoms that seems to have gotten pushed to the very back, but it's worth it when Min takes one and slides it down over his cock, touching him more than is really necessary, then bends down to mouth at the tip.
He starts off slow, mostly tongue, but Lu Han isn't too impatient yet. It feels good, the slow build, the involuntary little jerks of his hips when Min's tongue presses hard into just the right spot. Then Min takes him in his mouth and that's even better, his lips tight around Lu Han's erection, cheeks hollowing out. One forearm presses him firmly into the mattress, and he's glad of it when Min swallows him down all the way and his whole body shudders. "Fuck," he grinds out, and he swears Min laughs around his cock.
He pulls back, then down again, back and down, and Lu Han thinks if this keeps up he's going to come in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Besides the embarrassment factor, he doesn't want this to be over yet, so when he very nearly can't take anymore, he forces himself to say, "Wait."
Min pulls back immediately and looks up at him. His lips are red and there's something intense in his eyes that makes Lu Han uncomfortable and even more turned on at the same time. "What?" he asks, his voice rough.
"I want...more," Lu Han tells him. "I want..."
Min laughs when he trails off. "Are you sure this isn't your first time? You can say you want to fuck me."
Lu Han's mouth is dry. "I..." he tries again, but no words come out.
"Say it." Min's expression is serious again and it's doing terrible things to Lu Han's stomach. "I want to hear you say it."
"I want to fuck you," Lu Han says, surprised at how easily it comes out now.
Min looks a little surprised too, something flickering over his expression for just a moment before it disappears. "Yeah," he says, moving off of Lu Han's legs. "You can do that."
Lu Han finds the lube more easily than the condoms, slicking up his fingers while Min watches silently. He's lying back now, but he seems to be waiting for Lu Han to tell him what to do. "Spread your legs," he says as he moves closer. He thinks he'll like it like this, being able to watch Min's expression as he spreads him open.
It doesn't disappoint. He doesn't know how much of Min's reaction is genuine, but he looks damn good, letting out little breathy gasps and then full on moaning once Lu Han gets two fingers deep. He runs a hand into his hair, and with it pulled back off his forehead he suddenly looks he could be, if not twenty-four, then at least a lot closer to it. "Faster," he gasps, and Lu Han's not sure what to make of that, but he doesn't hesitate to oblige.
It's hard to be patient when he's already so turned on, so he's glad when Min says, "Enough."
He pulls away and is contemplating what position will be good when Min gets up on his knees and straddles him again. "What...?" he starts to ask, and Min smirks.
"Trust me," he says. "You'll like this."
Min slides down slowly onto his erection and yeah, he likes this a lot, and even more when he starts to bob up and down slowly, sinking deeper each time. Then he starts to move faster and Lu Han barely remembers to breathe, staring up at Min. His muscles are tense with exertion, body shining with sweat even though it hasn't gotten any warmer, and his eyes are clouded with desire and other things Lu Han can't read as easily. He looks incredible, and Lu Han finds himself thinking, What's someone like you doing as a cheap whore?
But it's hard to focus on any thought for long, so he just helps out by thrusting up to meet Min and offering him a hand to steady himself. Min takes it, and with his other hand reaches down to touch himself, letting out a low moan when he does. It's almost too much, and Lu Han's thrusts falter, but Min keeps right on riding him, hips moving steadily like he could do this all night.
Lu Han can't, though, and when he gasps out, "I'm—" Min immediately pulls off of him, wrapping his hand around Lu Han's erection and stroking him that last little bit until his orgasm shudders through him and he spills into the condom under Min's hand. "Fuck," he breathes, which in this case means 'That was really good.'
Min laughs at him again for that. "You're very eloquent" he says. His voice is a little strained, and no wonder with his untouched cock still hard.
Lu Han sits up, and with Min still straddling his thighs, that brings them very close. "Do you want me to...?" he asks, gesturing between Min's legs.
He's surprised to see Min look uncomfortable at that. "You don't have to."
"I want to," he says. He wraps a hand around him, and judging from the full-body shudder that runs through Min, he's already close. A little whimper even escapes him as Lu Han starts to move his hand, spurring him to go faster. It seems like no time at all before he comes, mostly quiet but throwing back his head and gasping for air in a way that Lu Han can't help staring at.
Then, all too soon, Min is pulling away from him. Lu Han gets up to throw away the condom and wash his hand off, and by the time he comes back, Min already has his pants on. "Leaving?" he asks, trying not to sound disappointed even though he is. Why wouldn't Min leave? He's done his job.
"Yeah," Min says, looking down as he pulls his tank top on. "It's still early enough to score another job."
You're an idiot, Lu Han tells himself. There's no reason to be jealous, no reason to feel possessive because he paid for the privilege of fucking this guy once. He has no reason and no right, and this isn't a romantic movie where he'll rescue Min from his life of sin and they'll live happily ever after. He's just a young guy who got desperate enough for a warm body to pay someone to fill in.
"I probably shouldn't say this," Min adds as he continues dressing, "but a guy like you, you don't need someone like me. You're good looking and not half bad in bed. You shouldn't be paying for sex when you could have your pick of guys."
But I'm scared, Lu Han thinks, and no one is ever the right person. He doesn't know how to explain to anyone, let alone this person who has sex with countless people he couldn't care less about, that he feels like he's always searching for something and he 's afraid he'll never find it, that he's tired of going on dates with people who are attractive and nice and funny and interested in the same things as him but never seem to be quite right.
The silence stretches out and Min pauses in wrapping his scarf around his neck to look at Lu Han. "What?" he asks.
"Do you ever feel like there's someone out there for you, but unless you can find them, there's no point?" Lu Han asks. "And you keep looking but maybe you'll never find them?"
"I was never that much of a romantic," Min says with what sounds suspiciously like forced lightness. "Even before all of this. And if there is someone like that for me, I doubt he'll want me anymore." He laughs like it's a joke, but Lu Han doesn't think it really is.
"You never know," he says with more conviction than he has.
"I guess not," Min agrees, clearly humoring him. His eyes are dark and maybe Lu Han's just projecting, but he looks sad. "Anyway, I should get going..."
It takes Lu Han a moment to realize what he's waiting for, and he awkwardly grabs his wallet from his discarded pants, pulling out too many bills and shoving them into Min's hand.
"Wait..." Min says, going to count them, but Lu Han pushes his hand to his pocket.
"It's fine," he insists. It's weird, probably, but he doesn't care. "Just, umm..." He doesn't know what he wants to say, so he finishes with, "Have a good night."
"You too," Min tells him. He pauses at the door, looking back but not enough to meet Lu Han's eyes. "The person you're looking for," he says. "I hope you find him."
Then he's gone, the door closing behind him with a definitive slam. "You too," Lu Han whispers.
17
Lu Han watches Korean dramas and listens to Korean music not because it's necessarily so much better than what's available in China (though he thinks it is) but because it's different. He's always been a dreamer, to put it nicely, or had his head in the clouds, if you're not being so nice.
It's not that he feels out of place in Beijing, exactly. It's his home and he loves it there, most of the time. It's just that he's always felt like there's so much more out there that he's missing out on. There are so many places, so many possibilities that he could never possibly explore them all. It's not a limitation unique to him, but he feels it so keenly he can't understand why no one else seems to care so much.
He's in his first year of high school and most of his friends have only just started thinking about university, talking in vague terms about their hopes and the ones their parents have placed on them, about universities in other cities or even going to study in America. None of them are very excited about it yet, while Lu Han has been pining after foreign lands and novel experiences for as long as he can remember.
The saddest part of it is that while his friends may be able to go away for their schooling, Lu Han's family doesn't have the money to send him to America, or even somewhere closer like Korea (not that he could ever convince them that that's a good place to go). The best he can hope for is university in Beijing and probably living at home to save money. He knows it could be worse, that he's lucky to have the option of going to university anywhere, but he just can't help wanting more.
His friends laugh at him for wanting to get away, not understanding, and his parents tell him to put his feet back on the ground because there's no reason for a kid from a humble family like his to have such lofty dreams, and if he wants anything good out of life, he's going to have to work hard for it.
And he can't explain to anyone that it's not about escaping or about thinking he's special. It's only that when he dreams, there's always something calling to him from far away, something missing from his life that he needs to go searching for. Something and, in his most vivid dreams, just maybe also someone.
18
He doesn't remember at first. Maybe he's more of a romantic than most young boys, going starry eyed over love stories and asking his mother if she believes in soulmates, and maybe he has the most vivid dreams sometimes, but as far as he or anyone else knows, he's an ordinary boy, an ordinary boy who will, once he grows up, in all likelihood experience an ordinary love.
In junior high, he dates a girl in his class, but more because it's the thing to do than because he's really interested in dating. He wants his own big, romantic love story someday, but most of the love stories he's read about don't happen at age thirteen. For now, he's content with studying and playing soccer with his friends after school.
It's when he's in junior high that his dreams start to change. He doesn't think much of it at first, because he's always had weird dreams. These dreams don't seem noticeably stranger than those he's had in the past. In fact, some of them are pretty mundane, like him playing in the street with a boy his age.
Some of them are less mundane, though, like the one where he's walking through the shopping center near his house and it's completely deserted and eerily silent and he feels like crying without knowing why. There are also the ones that involve sex, and while they're accompanied by typical embarrassing teenage boy reactions, he doubts any of his friends who are going through the same things have vivid dreams about sex with someone who looks a lot like a prostitute, or with a more ordinary person but on what looks like a spaceship.
The strange thing is that even though most of the details in these dreams are unusually vivid, he never quite sees the faces of the other people in his dreams clearly. There's usually only one other person, occasionally two or three, and sometimes he thinks it's always the same person, but he looks and sounds quite different, and sometimes he speaks Chinese or sometimes English or sometimes a language he doesn't even know that might be Korean, so it doesn't make sense that those could all be the same person.
He asks his mom again that year, for the first time in a while, if she believes in soulmates. "Is it possible that you could know someone before you even meet them?" he asks. "That you could be born knowing them?"
"Some people might believe that," his mother tells him, "but I don't put much stock in those kinds of fairy tales. If you feel like you know someone when you meet them, it's probably just that they remind you of someone, or else that you've both forgotten that you met before."
He almost tells her about the dreams, but his mother is too practical for things like that. She tolerates his talk of soulmates, but she's never believed it, and he knows she won't think his dreams are anything more than that. He doesn't tell his friends either, because he learned young that if you're a pretty boy who likes love stories and male pop singers and talks about soulmates, you'll never hear the end of the teasing.
But they keep happening, more and more often, sometimes the same dreams and sometimes new ones, and he thinks about them all the time, forming and discarding theories about what they could mean. He wonders if they're past lives, or alternate realities that are real somewhere, or alternate possibilities that could exist but don't, or maybe even that he's seeing other people's lives through their eyes. And he wonders, if they are past or alternate lives, could he really be seeing the same person in every one? Could that be the soulmate he's always thought he would meet someday?
In high school, he develops a big crush on a girl in his year. She's pretty and nice and smart and generally perfect, so why wouldn't he? He does think she's perfect, but maybe it's no coincidence that she's one of not too many girls in his grade who aren't remotely interested in him. He could have someone else, if he wanted to, but instead he fixates on the unattainable.
And in high school too, his dreams get more and more vivid and detailed, until it's very difficult to believe that they're ordinary dreams. And yet still, somehow, he never sees, or at least never remembers seeing the face of the person he meets so often in his dreams, and never has a name to associate with that now familiar presence. He's filled with yearning for that person, and he feels silly feeling so much for someone he doesn't actually know, but he can't shake it.
When he finally can't take keeping all this to himself, he talks to his favorite teacher. He's a math teacher so there's no reason for him to have any special insight on the subject, or take him seriously at all, but Lu Han trusts him enough to reveal his secrets. He tells his teacher about the dreams, avoiding mention of soulmates, but talking about how it feels like he's meeting the same person over and over in so many different ways, and how very real everything in those dreams feels.
His teacher doesn't laugh, to Lu Han's immense relief, just looks thoughtfully at him. "There are a lot of theories out there about alternate realities, you know," he says. "We and the people around us make so many decisions every day and you never know which of those decisions might result in a totally different life. If your parents made different decisions, you could easily have grown up in another country, or if something went differently in history, you could be living in an incredibly different world."
"But those don't really exist, right?" Lu Han asks. "I'm only this me in this world."
"Some people believe that those alternate realities exist side by side with ours. I've never read anything about people actually seeing into those realities outside of science fiction, but it's not really my area of expertise. Why don't you do some research? Maybe someone's written about what you're experiencing."
"You think it's possible? I'm not crazy for thinking about this?" Lu Han's not sure he wants an answer, but he does need it. He's still a kid and he needs reassurance that he's not wildly abnormal.
"Of course you're not crazy," his teacher says. "Are these dreams you're having any more than regular dreams? I don't know. There might not be any way to ever know for sure. But there's nothing wrong with wondering."
It helps a lot, hearing that, even if his high school math teacher is hardly an authority. Lu Han follows his suggestion and reads everything he can get his hands on about alternate realities, confusing his parents, friends and teachers since he's always been more interested in humanities (and not a big fan of studying in general). "It's interesting," he explains with a shrug, and doesn't tell anyone the real reason.
He reads book after book, even ones packed with scientific jargon he can't understand, and countless websites, some reasonable enough and some packed with conspiracy theories. They do shed light on the differences in his dreams, make it sound reasonable to think that the people he meets in them could really be alternate versions of a single person, but nothing ever satisfactorily explains how he can see these alternate realities in his dreams, or why they feel almost as real as actual memories. Some of the stranger websites have people claiming they can see to alternate realities, but even there, nobody's experiences sound quite like his. He keeps reading, but in the end, he finishes high school without having found a satisfactory explanation.
In university, Lu Han decides that it's time to start fresh, to stop dwelling so much on his dreams and pining for an entirely hypothetical soulmate. If there really is someone out there he's so meant to be with that he meets that person in every version of reality, then they'll meet sooner or later. There's no reason to miss out on life because he's waiting for something that may or may not ever happen.
It's easier said than done, but none of his new university friends know anything about his obsession with alternate realities or his perpetually unrequited high school crush, so it's easy to reinvent himself. He stops reading anything that isn't for school (except the occasional graphic novel) and starts flirting back when people show interest in him, and he apparently does it well since he starts earning himself a reputation as a flirt.
Letting that flirting actually go anywhere is a little harder, but eventually he manages it, falling easily enough into a relationship with a girl in his history class. His feelings for her are nothing like what he dreams about, at least not yet, but he does like her, and that's enough for now. It's nice, being a normal guy with a girlfriend who only gets made fun of for normal things like making weird faces when he laughs.
But though he manages to pass as normal, the dreams don't go away, and if anything they become more vivid. His girlfriend asks him about it one morning, when they've been together long enough for her to be aware of his sleeping patterns. "Do you remember what you dream about? You always toss and turn so much in your sleep, and sometimes you talk."
"My parents tell me I even scream sometimes," he says sheepishly, hoping she won't notice him ignoring her question.
"Wow, really? Do you have nightmares?"
"I don't remember," he lies. "And they don't keep me from sleeping so I never went to a doctor or anything. Sorry if I keep you up.
She lets it go, and he manages to keep up his normal act for another two months until his girlfriend wakes him up out of one of his racier dreams. Those haven't been as awkward since he passed puberty, but he's glad he's lying on his stomach because he's hard and he doesn't know how he'd explain that away. He's afraid of what his girlfriend heard, but she asks, "Are you okay? You were groaning like you were dying or something."
Lu Han almost bursts out laughing because no, he definitely wasn't dying, but he manages to hold it in. "I guess it was a nightmare," he says, sounding only a little choked.
"You really don't remember at all? For me, even if I forget right after, there's usually a moment after I wake up when I remember what I was dreaming."
"No, nothing," he says.
"You kept saying something," she persists, "in between the groaning. I couldn't understand it but it sounded like a name, maybe. Mi-something or Min-something, maybe."
"Minseok," Lu Han says without thinking, and it's only when he realizes his girlfriend is looking at him in surprise that it registers what just happened and the world stops. "I, uh...I don't know where that came from."
"Maybe you do remember!" she says excitedly. "Somewhere, deep down. Is that a name? It doesn't sound Chinese."
"I don't know," Lu Han says, but he does because he's heard enough Korean in his dreams to know what it sounds like, or maybe because that same dark corner of his mind that that name came from knows what kind of name it is too.
"Weird." His girlfriend seems intrigued, but she doesn't have a clue how big a thing this is for Lu Han. "I wonder if you do remember more, buried way down in your subconscious. Maybe you could do hypnosis or something to get it out."
She keeps talking, but Lu Han isn't listening, and finally he cuts her off to say, "You know, I don't feel so good. Maybe I should try to sleep a little more."
He closes his eyes, but there's no chance he's going to sleep again. His mind is racing, that name echoing in his head over and over again. What does it mean, that he knows it? As vivid and persistent as his dreams are, nothing has ever crossed into his waking life, and even though he remembers a lot of things, he has never, ever remembered a name, especially one that feels so significant.
He goes back over his dream, trying to remember if there was something different about it. It's a familiar one, him and another person who might be this Minseok in what he recognizes as his bedroom back home. They're young but not too young, probably in high school, and they're in Lu Han's bed together, naked and wrapped up in each other.
As many times as he's had this dream before, he's never been able to get a clear image of the other boy's face in his mind, but today, with shocking suddenness, he sees it. It's gone almost as soon as he realizes what he's seen, slipping from his mind's eye and his memory, but he's sure of what he's seen, as difficult as it is to believe.
It's hard to keep pretending to be asleep, but he can't handle talking to anyone now, not when his mind is reeling. He has never once remembered something he didn't see in a dream first. It's possible, maybe, that he knew this Minseok's name and face in a dream and forgot about it until now, but that's never happened either. The name feels new, and the already-forgotten face, and that has never happened to him before.
It changes the game, because even the most vivid and recurring of dreams can be shrugged off, but if things are coming to him while he's awake, that suggests that they're real, and if they're real, then he has a whole lot more questions about how this is possible, questions he doesn't know if anyone will be able to answer.
Even though Lu Han feels like his world has tilted on its axis, everything looks the same when he stops hiding in his bed and "wakes up" again. His girlfriend has gotten up already and he finds her drinking tea in the kitchen. She smiles at him like everything is normal, because for her, it still is. "Are you feeling better?" she asks gently.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Lu Han says, and he must be a better liar than he thinks he is because she accepts it. "I guess I was just tired."
She doesn't ask anything more about what happened earlier, and Lu Han doesn't say a word about it to anyone, but it consumes his thoughts. He thinks through his other dreams carefully, but nothing more comes to him, and he can't remember Minseok's face again. He half expects the name to slip away too, but it doesn't, and that's the only thing that keeps him from believing he imagined seeing the face he's tried so often to remember without success.
His girlfriend breaks up with him after another six weeks, which may or may not have something to do with his rekindled obsession with his dreams. He's sad, because he's enjoyed feeling normal and he does like her, but he still doesn't love her and it's feeling unlikely that he ever will.
He gets frustrated, after she's gone, with his friends who don't understand why he doesn't care more and with himself for not being able to play at normality better, and with his mind as it refuses to cooperate no matter how hard he tries to remember and understand. He tries to drown his sorrows in alcohol at the parties his friends drag him to "to make you feel better," and resumes his flirting habits in an effort to see if casual sex will distract him from everything else. (It does, but not for very long at all.)
And when he's tired of being a bad boy (which doesn't take very long either), he just resigns himself to muddling along the way he always has, without understanding himself or being understood by the people around him. He's not so unhappy about it, really, just tired; he'll be okay.
And he is, more or less, until early in his second year of university. A first year named Yixing joins his group of friends, and about a month into the school year, he mentions a name that has Lu Han's jaw dropping in shock. "What did you say?" he demands.
"I was talking about my dance club..." Yixing says, confused.
"Don't mind Lu Han," Yifan tells him. "Sometimes he exists on a different plane from us."
"You said a name," Lu Han presses, not caring if he gets mocked for it. "Didn't you?"
"Minseok," Yixing repeats, and Lu Han can't help staring. "Kim Minseok. He's an exchange student from Korea. Do you know him?"
"No, I just..." Lu Han fumbles for a lie to explain his interest. "I mean, maybe. I don't know. I, uh, used to know a guy with that name. I was surprised to hear it."
"Oh, I see," Yixing says. He seems to accept Lu Han's explanation despite his fumbling, but some of the guys who know him better are giving him strange looks. "I should introduce him to all of you some time. He's a little shy and his Mandarin's not very good yet, but he's a cool guy."
It's all Lu Han can do not to scream, "Yes, please!" He knows it's stupid to be so excited, because it's just a name and there's no reason to assume that this Minseok is the one he's dreamed about for so long. Considering that Lu Han still can't remember his face, he might not recognize Minseok even if it is him, and in any case, for all he knows, this version of Minseok will have no idea who he is. It's never been entirely clear in his dreams, but Lu Han thinks that he never remembered anything in those other versions of himself, and it didn't seem like Minseok did either.
Still, he can't help getting his hopes up, and he's so nervous it's hard to breathe when Yixing texts him the next weekend to say that he's bringing Minseok to their movie night. He tries to talk himself down, to remind himself not to expect anything and also not to say anything that will make this Minseok think he's a crazy person. Even if it is, by some miracle, the same Minseok he's dreamed about, if Lu Han comes on too strong the second they meet, he'll never get a chance to know him.
So he does his best to stay calm as he walks into Yifan's apartment, which lasts for all of ten seconds until Yixing and the guy next to him turn around. Yixing opens his mouth to introduce his friend, but he doesn't need to because Lu Han finds himself staring at the painfully familiar face of one Kim Minseok.
It's absolutely overwhelming because it's not just Minseok's face that comes back to him in that moment but everything, a flood of emotions and memories and details that never made it into his dreams. He stumbles back against the door, dazed, and barely hears his friends asking if he's okay. All he sees is Minseok, his face twisted into an expression of confusion that feels so familiar he can't believe he's never seen it before.
Part 6
He's only twenty-eight when he's admitted to the hospital indefinitely. "To monitor your condition," the doctors say, but Lu Han can read between the lines. When you've been told you have an untreatable, progressive and ultimately fatal heart condition, you know it's only a matter of time.
He doesn't ask how long. He did at the beginning, and the doctors always hedged, citing statistics and saying, "Each case is different." Now that it seems like he has a lot less time left, he doesn't think he wants to know.
His mother is beside herself at the thought of losing her only child. His father isn't much better, though he tries to hide it. Lu Han is always kind of glad when they leave, even if it means he's alone with his thoughts. It's exhausting, putting on a brave front for them.
Things are always quiet when his parents aren't around. His friends, the ones who haven't quietly disappeared as he got sicker, send cards and call sometimes, but visits are rare. "Work is so busy," they say, and it may be true, but they're obviously avoiding him. He can't blame them; he wouldn't know what to do with a dying friend either.
The nurses, at least, take a liking to him. They think he's cute, the older ones from a motherly perspective and the younger ones in a more giggly, blushing sort of way. (He doesn't think his good looks have held up very well to illness, but apparently they're still good enough for that kind of reaction.)
There's only one male nurse, a Korean transplant the same age as Lu Han. He seems more bemused by Lu Han than anything else, but he humors Lu Han's attempts at conversation and sometimes laughs satisfyingly when Lu Han makes a good joke. That's what he does, mostly, make stupid jokes, because it seems eminently preferable to moping around or thinking about where he's headed.
He pries Nurse Kim's story out of him as he checks on one of Lu Han's roommates, an old man who seems to find him endlessly amusing. Kim Minseok moved to China at age sixteen with his family and never left, despite thinking about it often. His Mandarin is accented but fluent, and he gets most of Lu Han's cultural reference jokes, even if he rolls his eyes at some of them. That's how he is, no-nonsense but gentle and kind without fussing. Lu Han likes that.
Another night, when things are quiet and Lu Han can't sleep, he sits at the nurses' station and tells Minseok how his life plans derailed two years ago when he found himself too exhausted to get out of bed for work and learned he was sick and not likely to see thirty. "I guess it could be worse, right?" he says, toying with the edge of the blanket Minseok insisted on wrapping around his shoulders. "There are kids who are born with messed-up hearts and never even really get to live. At least I got twenty-six good years, even if I didn't do much with them."
"Is there something you wish you'd done?" Minseok asks. "It's not too late, not for everything."
There are a lot of things Lu Han wishes he'd done while he still could: traveled more, eaten more delicious and unhealthy food, had more sex, maybe gotten married and had a kid so there would be some evidence left in this world that he existed. He gets lost in that train of thought, and Minseok waves a hand in front of his face. "Don't go crazy. Just something little."
"I wish I'd eaten a lot more cake," Lu Han says. "My mom always said I shouldn't because it's bad for me, but look at all the good that did me."
"Hmm..." is all Minseok says to that. "What else?"
I wish I'd done something that matters, Lu Han thinks. I wish I'd fallen in love so there'd be someone besides my parents to really miss me when I'm gone. I wish I hadn't gotten sick so I wouldn't have to die yet. "I don't know," he says. "What would you regret, if you died tomorrow?"
He half expects Minseok to brush him off like he sometimes does when Lu Han's questions get too personal, but this time he considers the question. "I don't really know either. I guess I'd regret not doing more to help and thank my parents, now that they're getting old. I was a real brat to them when we moved to Beijing."
It's a reasonable answer, but the look on his face tells Lu Han that there's probably more, that maybe Minseok's regrets would be a lot like his.
Minseok is off the next day, but the day after that, a chocolate cake mysteriously appears in Lu Han's room. He shares it with his roommates, saying that one of his friends probably sent it, but he sees the way Minseok tries not to smile when he stops by to check on them.
"Thank you," Lu Han says the next time he has a moment alone with Minseok. "I love chocolate."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Minseok says, but he can't hide the twinkle in his eyes.
Weeks pass and Lu Han sleeps more and hangs out at the nurses' station less. "I miss you getting in my way," Minseok says as he checks Lu Han's vitals. "it's way too easy to do my work like this."
"You could come hang out here where all the cool kids are," Lu Han tells him.
Minseok laughs. "I'd like that, but I think I might get in trouble if I started spending too much time here when I'm supposed to be working."
And that's the end of that, except that a few days later, Minseok appears at his bedside shortly after visiting hours end. Lu Han's parents left twenty minutes ago and he's still trying to get his father's miserable expression out of his head, so he's very grateful for a distraction. "What are you doing here?" he asks. Minseok's still in his uniform, but he has a sweatshirt over it and his bag slung over his shoulder like he's on his way home.
"Are you up for another visitor?" Minseok asks. When Lu Han looks at him in confusion, he explains, "You did say I could come hang out. But I'll leave you alone if you're tired."
"No, I—!" Lu Han rushes to say. "It's okay. It's good. I'd like company."
Minseok's face breaks into a relieved smile that warms Lu Han's defective heart. He takes the chair next to Lu Han's bed, putting his bag down next to him. "Your parents visit a lot, huh?"
"Yeah," Lu Han says, and then, impulsively, "I wish they wouldn't."
"Oh?" There's no judgment in Minseok's tone, just polite curiosity and unintrusive concern.
"I know I’m lucky that they care and want to look after me, but they always look so depressed when they see me. I feel like as long as they're here, I have to pretend everything's okay even though it's...not."
"It seems like that happens a lot, patients feeling like they have to protect their families even though they're the sick ones." He looks at Lu Han with serious, sympathetic eyes. "If you're not okay...if you want to talk...maybe it's easier to talk to someone like me who isn't family or a close friend. So you can, if you want."
"As a nurse?" Lu Han asks.
Minseok smiles a little shyly as he says, "No, as a friend. You don't think I let just anyone distract me while I work, do you?"
For a long moment, Lu Han sits there, words stuck in his throat. His roommates are out of the room or asleep so it's only Minseok listening, but putting his thoughts into words at all is scary. When he finally speaks, it's in a very small voice. "I'm scared of dying. And I'm...angry. I guess I'm supposed to make peace with it, but I don't want to. I want to live and I'm really mad that I can't.
"It's really not fair, is it? That some people live to a hundred and others don't make it to thirty, and some don't even last a year. Sometimes people make bad decisions and bring it on themselves, but most of the time, it's just bad luck. I don't blame you for being mad about it."
It's not exactly comforting, but it makes Lu Han feel a little bit better than Minseok doesn't try to talk him out of his anger. He's tired of trying to have a good attitude when he's dying and it unequivocally sucks. "I always thought I'd have more time for everything. Seeing the world, falling in love, doing something important. But here I am about to die and I don't even know what I did for twenty-eight years." He sighs heavily. "Do you think that when we die, that's it?"
Minseok presses his lips together, thinking. "My parents are very religious. Christian. They're always saying stuff about heaven, and any time I mention losing a patient, they say things like, 'He's in a better place now.' But I don't know. I've seen a lot of good people die here and I'd like to believe that there's something good waiting for them, but...I don't know. What about you?"
"I don't know either," Lu Han says. "If I could choose, I think maybe I'd go for reincarnation. Have a second chance at life so I could do better, not waste any time."
"Well, I guess you never know," Minseok says with a shrug.
"I'll know soon enough," Lu Han says quietly. He tries to stay away from gallows humor (and it's not even really funny), but maybe with Minseok, it's okay.
He's surprised when Minseok's hand comes up to rest on top of his. It feels really warm, but that's probably because Lu Han's hands are always cold now. He expects Minseok to say something, some hollow attempt at comfort, but he just squeezes his hand a little and gives him a small smile. It's probably better that way. When it becomes clear he's not going to respond, Lu Han says, "Thanks. For listening."
Now Minseok's smile widens. "Anytime."
Lu Han's health takes an abrupt turn for the worse soon after. He only gets out of bed to go to the bathroom and occasionally shower, and even that he sometimes needs help with. It galls him, like it isn't enough that he's dying but he also has to have people (usually female nurses) help him wash himself. "Why does it have to happen like this?" he grumbles to Minseok one day, when he comes by in the morning for a short visit after an overnight shift. "If I'm going to die, can't I just get it over with instead of having to deal with all this shit along the way?"
"Well...you're right, it does suck," Minseok acknowledges, "but if you'd just up and died the day you were admitted to the hospital, wouldn't you have missed out on some good experiences? Chocolate cake, making the entire nursing staff fall in love with you, your weirdo roommates, me?"
"I see what you did there." Lu Han can't help smiling a little, as frustrated as he is.
Minseok grins back, but then he turns more serious. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with this. I really am. And I'd much rather you be out there, healthy. But since you're not, I'm glad I got to meet you."
Lu Han thinks he can blame it on the whole dying thing that he suddenly feels a little choked up. "I...yeah. Me too."
Minseok laughs, and Lu Han's not so sick that he can't punch him weakly in the arm. He doesn't mind, though. He's never been good at talking about feelings like that, and he really doesn't want to cry. "I should get going," Minseok tells him, "or I'll probably fall asleep while walking home and run into a pole or a car or something. See you tomorrow."
"See you," Lu Han says. Minseok stands to leave, and as he turns away, Lu Han adds, all in a rush, "Don't forget me. Okay? I don't want to be forgotten."
Minseok turns back to him, and he looks almost like he might cry, which Lu Han has never seen before, but then he swallows hard and flashes Lu Han a smile that's only a little shaky. "How could I forget someone as weird as you?"
Lu Han doesn't know if that's really true, but he decides to believe, and it feels good. "See you tomorrow," he says.
When Minseok comes in for his late morning shift the following day, the head nurse gives him a somber look. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this because I know you liked him, but Lu Han died late last night."
"Oh," Minseok says, wondering why it feels like someone just punched him in the gut. It's not the first time he's lost a patient, even one he'd gotten to know well, and it won't be the last.
"He's not suffering anymore," she adds, "and I think you were a big comfort to him in his last days."
Minseok nods, and doesn't say that he had no idea what comfort to give Lu Han when he can't even imagine dying at this age, when his life feels like it's only just beginning. He sets to work mechanically, and he's mostly okay, until he has to go into what used to be Lu Han's room. He takes a deep breath to brace himself, but it still hurts to see the empty bed.
"I'll miss that kid," says old Mr. Li as Minseok changes his IV bag.
"Me too," he says.
He goes up on the roof during his break, to have some quiet and a chance to think, and finds himself thinking of Lu Han's last words to him, and of what he said about reincarnation. Minseok doesn't believe anything in particular, but he'd like to believe that someone as vibrant as Lu Han isn't simply gone. "Who knows?" he says to the silent blue sky. "Maybe I will see you again someday."
14
Minseok has always wanted to visit England, but first he's a broke student and then he's too busy working, and then he gets married and his wife doesn't really like to travel, and then they have kids and can't afford to travel far with them and somehow he doesn't make it there until he's old and grey, retired and traveling with his youngest son and oldest grandson as a present for his sixty-fifth birthday.
He can't walk as fast as he once would have and he has to put on reading glasses to read the signs in museums (not that he can understand most of the English anyway), but he's happy to be there all the same. It's good to know that he's not too old for adventure yet.
They go to see a soccer (no, football) match on the last day of the trip, Manchester United versus Liverpool, and it's every bit as exciting as he imagined it would be forty years ago when he was at the peak of his soccer obsession. The crowd is wild, almost too wild for an old man, but the energy is great and he's thrilled to be there.
Seven rows in front and a little to the left, Lu Han is watching the same game, catching his husband's hand in a death grip whenever things get tense (and not caring what anyone thinks because he's sixty-five and he'll be as gay as he damn well pleases in public, and besides, things are different than they used to be). He's glued to the game, screaming his head off when Manchester United scores a goal, and he never once turns around.
15
The plague is sudden, fast-moving and deadly. The first case is identified on Monday morning, Beijing time. By Saturday afternoon, less than 1% of the world's population is left alive, and those due to some natural immunity, not any success of the efforts to find a cure. The devastation is immense, the survivors left to wonder how they can survive with so few people remaining to run cities that look more like tombs.
China was hit especially hard, though there's no one left to explain why so few people there were immune. Lu Han's parents are gone, and his other relatives and his friends and his coworkers and his former classmates. So many people are gone, leaving Beijing eerily silent.
He meets Kim Minseok while scrounging through picked-over shelves in a grocery store. He thinks the place is empty, but then there's a crash and he's surprised to hear someone curse in Korean. He hurries over and finds a man on the floor with a pile of noodle packages around him and tears threatening to overflow in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Lu Han asks, first automatically in Mandarin, and then, once he thinks about it, in Korean. His Korean is more than a little rusty, but he remembers that much.
The man looks up at him in shock. "You speak Korean?" he asks.
"Some. Are you okay?" Lu Han asks again, offering him a hand up.
Minseok is thirty-two years old, the same as Lu Han, he learns as they share a stale bag of rice crackers back in Lu Han's apartment. He was visiting Beijing with his sister when the plague broke out, and the airports closed down so fast they weren't able to get home. Lu Han doesn't need to ask what happened to his sister; it's written all over Minseok's face in lines of sorrow.
"I was starting to think I'd never hear someone speak Korean again," Minseok tells him. "Not that many people have tried to talk to me in any language lately."
Lu Han hasn't talked to anyone in a long time either, so he eagerly tells Minseok about his time studying in Korea what feels like a lifetime ago. It's nice to have an actual conversation again, and even nicer how Minseok's eyes light up at the mention of familiar places in Seoul. It's not anywhere near enough to make them forget about the new reality of the world, but it's something.
Minseok stays with him because he has nowhere else to go, and because Lu Han has always hated being alone. His apartment isn't made for two people, but it's clean enough and there's still running water even though the electricity and gas are questionable, and no one has died here, which is more than can be said for the many abandoned houses they could move into.
There's not much to do these days besides survive, so they spend a lot of time just talking, sometimes about the past and sometimes about the future, like how maybe when winter is over they'll plant a garden so they can taste fresh vegetables after living without them for months. They talk about banding together with other survivors, about finding a way for the world to survive in spite of everything, and maybe it's all pipe dreams, but it's easier to keep going when there's some hope left.
They kiss for the first time in the middle of the night, when Lu Han wakes from a nightmare that fades the moment he opens his eyes and leaves him with only a desperate need for comfort. There was a time, before everything fell apart, when he was too afraid to try kissing another man, but now a little thing like that seems so insignificant. He doesn't know if that's true for Minseok, if he wanted this before or if he'll only take what he can get now, but he doesn't push Lu Han away and that's all that matters.
They have sex later that day, after finding condoms and lube in the worryingly-empty supermarket, and it's rushed and a little too intense, but for the first time in too long, even if it's just for a few brief moments, Lu Han can forget about everything else.
"It's weird, isn't it?" Minseok says a few weeks later as they lie in bed with their limbs tangled together, naked under a big pile of blankets to fight off the cold of February. "Thinking that we probably never would've met if not for everything."
Lu Han could never be grateful for the death of so many people, and he'd undo it all in an instant if he could, but with Minseok warm against his side, it's hard to imagine a different life where they're nothing more than strangers to each other. "I don't know," he says. "Maybe we still would've found a way." There's no basis for that at all, but he wants to believe it, wants to think that he and Minseok could be together in a world where there aren't uncounted billions dead.
Minseok doesn't say anything, but he snuggles a little bit closer to Lu Han, and that's enough.
The second wave of the plague (or maybe a new one; it hardly matters) comes seven months after the first, and they're not immune this time. Minseok gets sick first, but less than an hour later, Lu Han is also feverish to the point of hallucinating. They're both lying in Lu Han's bed, too weak to move, and Minseok wavers in Lu Han's vision. His hair looks green, then blond, longer and then shorter, his clothes stretching and shrinking and dancing through all colors of the rainbow. He wants to ask Minseok if he's seeing the same thing, but he's already too far gone to talk, sweating and shivering at the same time.
It's dizzying, so Lu Han hugs Minseok close enough that he can't see anymore, ignoring the heat radiating off his body. "Don't leave me," he murmurs into Minseok's hair (jet black now, and streaked with red a second later), but he knows deep down that it's already too late for both of them. At least, he thinks, he won't have to be alone for long.
Minseok is shivering violently now even though he's so hot, and then he goes still with shocking suddenness. Lu Han just holds him close, as tight as he can manage. It's not long before he starts to shiver too, deep, unbearable cold settling into his bones. The last thing he thinks before blackness takes him is, Maybe next time.
16
Lu Han doesn't know what makes the kid immediately catch his attention. He looks too young to be out on the streets in not enough clothing for a late fall night, lounging casually-but-not-really against a building and eyeing the men who walk past. There are prettier guys around who would be happy to follow Lu Han home (or to a hotel or even down a sufficiently dark alley), but there's something about this boy, with his slim build and catlike eyes enhanced by eyeliner. His eyes don't look young, and there's something in them that draws Lu Han to him.
He rolls down his window as he pulls up in front of the boy, who looks coolly at him even though his posture goes a little tense. "Can I help you with something?" he asks, words laced with suggestion in case there was any doubt about what he's doing on this street.
"Are you even old enough?" Lu Han asks.
The boy gives a short, largely humorless laugh. "I'm twenty-four, so if you want an innocent little kid, you're barking up the wrong tree."
Lu Han laughs too, genuinely. "I'm twenty-four too, so I don't need innocent."
"Then...you want me?"
Lu Han considers for only a moment before he says yes, unlocking the door to let the boy in. "Got a name?" he asks.
"Min," the boy says, and when Lu Han flashes him a skeptical look, he adds, "It's half my name, anyway. I only give the other half to people I really like." He smiles a little, and it's crooked and doesn't fit his cool attitude but Lu Han likes it anyway. Then he asks, "You?"
"Lu Han," he says.
The boy, Min if that's what he wants to be called, cocks his head curiously. "Chinese?"
"Yeah," Lu Han says. "And that's my whole name so I guess I must like you." He doesn't know where that came from, why he's saying flirtatious things to a whore off the street who's probably used to men just fucking him hard and not giving a damn what he has to say, but there it is.
"Good to know," Min says.
They drive in silence the rest of the way to Lu Han's apartment. It's not far; he doesn't make enough money to live in a nicer part of town. They climb up three flights of stairs and Lu Han's afraid someone will see him and know what's going on, but it's a Saturday night and his neighbors seem to have better things to do than wait around to judge him.
They go into his apartment and then Lu Han stands awkwardly in the small space that passes for his living room and kitchen, not sure what to do next. Min looks at him, and when it becomes clear that Lu Han isn't going to start anything, asks, "Is this your first time?"
"It's not—" Lu Han starts, defensively, because it's not like he's a virgin, but then he realizes what the question is. "Oh. Yeah. I've never..."
"Brought a whore home?" Min finishes for him, with a bit of a smirk.
"Yeah." This is awkward, he thinks, and wonders if this was a bad idea. His hand doesn't particularly satisfy him, but at least he doesn't have to talk to it.
"Relax," Min says, stepping forward and putting a hand on his arm. "I don't have high expectations. You're actually talking to me, so you're already doing better than a lot of customers. Just tell me what you want."
Lu Han wets his lips and tells himself to stop acting like an awkward teenager. He can pussyfoot around it all he wants, but there's only one reason he went to the red light district tonight. "Take off your clothes," he said, relieved that his voice comes out deep and steady. "I want to see you."
It's cold in the apartment, but Min doesn't hesitate as he unwraps his scarf and pulls off his sweatshirt. He's wearing only a thin tank top underneath, and his arms and torso are more well-muscled than Lu Han expected. The tank top comes off quickly, then his jeans, and he's not wearing underwear, so that leaves him naked, within arms reach of Lu Han. "You can touch," he says, "if you want."
So Lu Han does, running hands along his arms and down his chest, tweaking a nipple hard enough that he gasps. Emboldened, he drops his hands to Min's hips and bends down to taste the skin of his neck. He's not sure if kissing is allowed, but this seems to be, at least. Min tips his head back and Lu Han traces his collarbones with his tongue. He doesn't know if the hitch in Min's breathing is artifice or a genuine reaction, but he enjoys it, in any case.
It's too cramped here, so he pulls back and points down the hallway, saying "My bedroom's there," as if there's anywhere else to go in the small apartment. Min obediently turns and walks to the bedroom, and Lu Han follows him. He feels weird still being fully dressed, so he strips off his own clothes. He feels the bite of the cold air against his skin now, so he hurries to press himself against Min, whose body is warm in spite of the chill, and they fall onto the bed together.
It's weird, if he thinks about it too hard, but it's been too long since he's had sex, too long even since he's had much in the way of human contact, so it feels good. Min takes control now, propping himself up above Lu Han (and oh, yes, those arms) and pressing kisses down his neck and chest, sucking expertly at his nipples. He's good with his mouth, and that thought plus the attention has Lu Han getting hard fast.
Min has to notice, but he takes his sweet time meandering down Lu Han's stomach, scraping his teeth a little over Lu Han's hipbone. "Do you want it?" he murmurs, lips brushing Lu Han's skin, and fuck, that's hot.
"Please," he says, his voice coming out breathy.
"Got a condom?" It breaks the moment for Lu Han to have to pull away and dig around in the drawer by his bed for the box of condoms that seems to have gotten pushed to the very back, but it's worth it when Min takes one and slides it down over his cock, touching him more than is really necessary, then bends down to mouth at the tip.
He starts off slow, mostly tongue, but Lu Han isn't too impatient yet. It feels good, the slow build, the involuntary little jerks of his hips when Min's tongue presses hard into just the right spot. Then Min takes him in his mouth and that's even better, his lips tight around Lu Han's erection, cheeks hollowing out. One forearm presses him firmly into the mattress, and he's glad of it when Min swallows him down all the way and his whole body shudders. "Fuck," he grinds out, and he swears Min laughs around his cock.
He pulls back, then down again, back and down, and Lu Han thinks if this keeps up he's going to come in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Besides the embarrassment factor, he doesn't want this to be over yet, so when he very nearly can't take anymore, he forces himself to say, "Wait."
Min pulls back immediately and looks up at him. His lips are red and there's something intense in his eyes that makes Lu Han uncomfortable and even more turned on at the same time. "What?" he asks, his voice rough.
"I want...more," Lu Han tells him. "I want..."
Min laughs when he trails off. "Are you sure this isn't your first time? You can say you want to fuck me."
Lu Han's mouth is dry. "I..." he tries again, but no words come out.
"Say it." Min's expression is serious again and it's doing terrible things to Lu Han's stomach. "I want to hear you say it."
"I want to fuck you," Lu Han says, surprised at how easily it comes out now.
Min looks a little surprised too, something flickering over his expression for just a moment before it disappears. "Yeah," he says, moving off of Lu Han's legs. "You can do that."
Lu Han finds the lube more easily than the condoms, slicking up his fingers while Min watches silently. He's lying back now, but he seems to be waiting for Lu Han to tell him what to do. "Spread your legs," he says as he moves closer. He thinks he'll like it like this, being able to watch Min's expression as he spreads him open.
It doesn't disappoint. He doesn't know how much of Min's reaction is genuine, but he looks damn good, letting out little breathy gasps and then full on moaning once Lu Han gets two fingers deep. He runs a hand into his hair, and with it pulled back off his forehead he suddenly looks he could be, if not twenty-four, then at least a lot closer to it. "Faster," he gasps, and Lu Han's not sure what to make of that, but he doesn't hesitate to oblige.
It's hard to be patient when he's already so turned on, so he's glad when Min says, "Enough."
He pulls away and is contemplating what position will be good when Min gets up on his knees and straddles him again. "What...?" he starts to ask, and Min smirks.
"Trust me," he says. "You'll like this."
Min slides down slowly onto his erection and yeah, he likes this a lot, and even more when he starts to bob up and down slowly, sinking deeper each time. Then he starts to move faster and Lu Han barely remembers to breathe, staring up at Min. His muscles are tense with exertion, body shining with sweat even though it hasn't gotten any warmer, and his eyes are clouded with desire and other things Lu Han can't read as easily. He looks incredible, and Lu Han finds himself thinking, What's someone like you doing as a cheap whore?
But it's hard to focus on any thought for long, so he just helps out by thrusting up to meet Min and offering him a hand to steady himself. Min takes it, and with his other hand reaches down to touch himself, letting out a low moan when he does. It's almost too much, and Lu Han's thrusts falter, but Min keeps right on riding him, hips moving steadily like he could do this all night.
Lu Han can't, though, and when he gasps out, "I'm—" Min immediately pulls off of him, wrapping his hand around Lu Han's erection and stroking him that last little bit until his orgasm shudders through him and he spills into the condom under Min's hand. "Fuck," he breathes, which in this case means 'That was really good.'
Min laughs at him again for that. "You're very eloquent" he says. His voice is a little strained, and no wonder with his untouched cock still hard.
Lu Han sits up, and with Min still straddling his thighs, that brings them very close. "Do you want me to...?" he asks, gesturing between Min's legs.
He's surprised to see Min look uncomfortable at that. "You don't have to."
"I want to," he says. He wraps a hand around him, and judging from the full-body shudder that runs through Min, he's already close. A little whimper even escapes him as Lu Han starts to move his hand, spurring him to go faster. It seems like no time at all before he comes, mostly quiet but throwing back his head and gasping for air in a way that Lu Han can't help staring at.
Then, all too soon, Min is pulling away from him. Lu Han gets up to throw away the condom and wash his hand off, and by the time he comes back, Min already has his pants on. "Leaving?" he asks, trying not to sound disappointed even though he is. Why wouldn't Min leave? He's done his job.
"Yeah," Min says, looking down as he pulls his tank top on. "It's still early enough to score another job."
You're an idiot, Lu Han tells himself. There's no reason to be jealous, no reason to feel possessive because he paid for the privilege of fucking this guy once. He has no reason and no right, and this isn't a romantic movie where he'll rescue Min from his life of sin and they'll live happily ever after. He's just a young guy who got desperate enough for a warm body to pay someone to fill in.
"I probably shouldn't say this," Min adds as he continues dressing, "but a guy like you, you don't need someone like me. You're good looking and not half bad in bed. You shouldn't be paying for sex when you could have your pick of guys."
But I'm scared, Lu Han thinks, and no one is ever the right person. He doesn't know how to explain to anyone, let alone this person who has sex with countless people he couldn't care less about, that he feels like he's always searching for something and he 's afraid he'll never find it, that he's tired of going on dates with people who are attractive and nice and funny and interested in the same things as him but never seem to be quite right.
The silence stretches out and Min pauses in wrapping his scarf around his neck to look at Lu Han. "What?" he asks.
"Do you ever feel like there's someone out there for you, but unless you can find them, there's no point?" Lu Han asks. "And you keep looking but maybe you'll never find them?"
"I was never that much of a romantic," Min says with what sounds suspiciously like forced lightness. "Even before all of this. And if there is someone like that for me, I doubt he'll want me anymore." He laughs like it's a joke, but Lu Han doesn't think it really is.
"You never know," he says with more conviction than he has.
"I guess not," Min agrees, clearly humoring him. His eyes are dark and maybe Lu Han's just projecting, but he looks sad. "Anyway, I should get going..."
It takes Lu Han a moment to realize what he's waiting for, and he awkwardly grabs his wallet from his discarded pants, pulling out too many bills and shoving them into Min's hand.
"Wait..." Min says, going to count them, but Lu Han pushes his hand to his pocket.
"It's fine," he insists. It's weird, probably, but he doesn't care. "Just, umm..." He doesn't know what he wants to say, so he finishes with, "Have a good night."
"You too," Min tells him. He pauses at the door, looking back but not enough to meet Lu Han's eyes. "The person you're looking for," he says. "I hope you find him."
Then he's gone, the door closing behind him with a definitive slam. "You too," Lu Han whispers.
17
Lu Han watches Korean dramas and listens to Korean music not because it's necessarily so much better than what's available in China (though he thinks it is) but because it's different. He's always been a dreamer, to put it nicely, or had his head in the clouds, if you're not being so nice.
It's not that he feels out of place in Beijing, exactly. It's his home and he loves it there, most of the time. It's just that he's always felt like there's so much more out there that he's missing out on. There are so many places, so many possibilities that he could never possibly explore them all. It's not a limitation unique to him, but he feels it so keenly he can't understand why no one else seems to care so much.
He's in his first year of high school and most of his friends have only just started thinking about university, talking in vague terms about their hopes and the ones their parents have placed on them, about universities in other cities or even going to study in America. None of them are very excited about it yet, while Lu Han has been pining after foreign lands and novel experiences for as long as he can remember.
The saddest part of it is that while his friends may be able to go away for their schooling, Lu Han's family doesn't have the money to send him to America, or even somewhere closer like Korea (not that he could ever convince them that that's a good place to go). The best he can hope for is university in Beijing and probably living at home to save money. He knows it could be worse, that he's lucky to have the option of going to university anywhere, but he just can't help wanting more.
His friends laugh at him for wanting to get away, not understanding, and his parents tell him to put his feet back on the ground because there's no reason for a kid from a humble family like his to have such lofty dreams, and if he wants anything good out of life, he's going to have to work hard for it.
And he can't explain to anyone that it's not about escaping or about thinking he's special. It's only that when he dreams, there's always something calling to him from far away, something missing from his life that he needs to go searching for. Something and, in his most vivid dreams, just maybe also someone.
18
He doesn't remember at first. Maybe he's more of a romantic than most young boys, going starry eyed over love stories and asking his mother if she believes in soulmates, and maybe he has the most vivid dreams sometimes, but as far as he or anyone else knows, he's an ordinary boy, an ordinary boy who will, once he grows up, in all likelihood experience an ordinary love.
In junior high, he dates a girl in his class, but more because it's the thing to do than because he's really interested in dating. He wants his own big, romantic love story someday, but most of the love stories he's read about don't happen at age thirteen. For now, he's content with studying and playing soccer with his friends after school.
It's when he's in junior high that his dreams start to change. He doesn't think much of it at first, because he's always had weird dreams. These dreams don't seem noticeably stranger than those he's had in the past. In fact, some of them are pretty mundane, like him playing in the street with a boy his age.
Some of them are less mundane, though, like the one where he's walking through the shopping center near his house and it's completely deserted and eerily silent and he feels like crying without knowing why. There are also the ones that involve sex, and while they're accompanied by typical embarrassing teenage boy reactions, he doubts any of his friends who are going through the same things have vivid dreams about sex with someone who looks a lot like a prostitute, or with a more ordinary person but on what looks like a spaceship.
The strange thing is that even though most of the details in these dreams are unusually vivid, he never quite sees the faces of the other people in his dreams clearly. There's usually only one other person, occasionally two or three, and sometimes he thinks it's always the same person, but he looks and sounds quite different, and sometimes he speaks Chinese or sometimes English or sometimes a language he doesn't even know that might be Korean, so it doesn't make sense that those could all be the same person.
He asks his mom again that year, for the first time in a while, if she believes in soulmates. "Is it possible that you could know someone before you even meet them?" he asks. "That you could be born knowing them?"
"Some people might believe that," his mother tells him, "but I don't put much stock in those kinds of fairy tales. If you feel like you know someone when you meet them, it's probably just that they remind you of someone, or else that you've both forgotten that you met before."
He almost tells her about the dreams, but his mother is too practical for things like that. She tolerates his talk of soulmates, but she's never believed it, and he knows she won't think his dreams are anything more than that. He doesn't tell his friends either, because he learned young that if you're a pretty boy who likes love stories and male pop singers and talks about soulmates, you'll never hear the end of the teasing.
But they keep happening, more and more often, sometimes the same dreams and sometimes new ones, and he thinks about them all the time, forming and discarding theories about what they could mean. He wonders if they're past lives, or alternate realities that are real somewhere, or alternate possibilities that could exist but don't, or maybe even that he's seeing other people's lives through their eyes. And he wonders, if they are past or alternate lives, could he really be seeing the same person in every one? Could that be the soulmate he's always thought he would meet someday?
In high school, he develops a big crush on a girl in his year. She's pretty and nice and smart and generally perfect, so why wouldn't he? He does think she's perfect, but maybe it's no coincidence that she's one of not too many girls in his grade who aren't remotely interested in him. He could have someone else, if he wanted to, but instead he fixates on the unattainable.
And in high school too, his dreams get more and more vivid and detailed, until it's very difficult to believe that they're ordinary dreams. And yet still, somehow, he never sees, or at least never remembers seeing the face of the person he meets so often in his dreams, and never has a name to associate with that now familiar presence. He's filled with yearning for that person, and he feels silly feeling so much for someone he doesn't actually know, but he can't shake it.
When he finally can't take keeping all this to himself, he talks to his favorite teacher. He's a math teacher so there's no reason for him to have any special insight on the subject, or take him seriously at all, but Lu Han trusts him enough to reveal his secrets. He tells his teacher about the dreams, avoiding mention of soulmates, but talking about how it feels like he's meeting the same person over and over in so many different ways, and how very real everything in those dreams feels.
His teacher doesn't laugh, to Lu Han's immense relief, just looks thoughtfully at him. "There are a lot of theories out there about alternate realities, you know," he says. "We and the people around us make so many decisions every day and you never know which of those decisions might result in a totally different life. If your parents made different decisions, you could easily have grown up in another country, or if something went differently in history, you could be living in an incredibly different world."
"But those don't really exist, right?" Lu Han asks. "I'm only this me in this world."
"Some people believe that those alternate realities exist side by side with ours. I've never read anything about people actually seeing into those realities outside of science fiction, but it's not really my area of expertise. Why don't you do some research? Maybe someone's written about what you're experiencing."
"You think it's possible? I'm not crazy for thinking about this?" Lu Han's not sure he wants an answer, but he does need it. He's still a kid and he needs reassurance that he's not wildly abnormal.
"Of course you're not crazy," his teacher says. "Are these dreams you're having any more than regular dreams? I don't know. There might not be any way to ever know for sure. But there's nothing wrong with wondering."
It helps a lot, hearing that, even if his high school math teacher is hardly an authority. Lu Han follows his suggestion and reads everything he can get his hands on about alternate realities, confusing his parents, friends and teachers since he's always been more interested in humanities (and not a big fan of studying in general). "It's interesting," he explains with a shrug, and doesn't tell anyone the real reason.
He reads book after book, even ones packed with scientific jargon he can't understand, and countless websites, some reasonable enough and some packed with conspiracy theories. They do shed light on the differences in his dreams, make it sound reasonable to think that the people he meets in them could really be alternate versions of a single person, but nothing ever satisfactorily explains how he can see these alternate realities in his dreams, or why they feel almost as real as actual memories. Some of the stranger websites have people claiming they can see to alternate realities, but even there, nobody's experiences sound quite like his. He keeps reading, but in the end, he finishes high school without having found a satisfactory explanation.
In university, Lu Han decides that it's time to start fresh, to stop dwelling so much on his dreams and pining for an entirely hypothetical soulmate. If there really is someone out there he's so meant to be with that he meets that person in every version of reality, then they'll meet sooner or later. There's no reason to miss out on life because he's waiting for something that may or may not ever happen.
It's easier said than done, but none of his new university friends know anything about his obsession with alternate realities or his perpetually unrequited high school crush, so it's easy to reinvent himself. He stops reading anything that isn't for school (except the occasional graphic novel) and starts flirting back when people show interest in him, and he apparently does it well since he starts earning himself a reputation as a flirt.
Letting that flirting actually go anywhere is a little harder, but eventually he manages it, falling easily enough into a relationship with a girl in his history class. His feelings for her are nothing like what he dreams about, at least not yet, but he does like her, and that's enough for now. It's nice, being a normal guy with a girlfriend who only gets made fun of for normal things like making weird faces when he laughs.
But though he manages to pass as normal, the dreams don't go away, and if anything they become more vivid. His girlfriend asks him about it one morning, when they've been together long enough for her to be aware of his sleeping patterns. "Do you remember what you dream about? You always toss and turn so much in your sleep, and sometimes you talk."
"My parents tell me I even scream sometimes," he says sheepishly, hoping she won't notice him ignoring her question.
"Wow, really? Do you have nightmares?"
"I don't remember," he lies. "And they don't keep me from sleeping so I never went to a doctor or anything. Sorry if I keep you up.
She lets it go, and he manages to keep up his normal act for another two months until his girlfriend wakes him up out of one of his racier dreams. Those haven't been as awkward since he passed puberty, but he's glad he's lying on his stomach because he's hard and he doesn't know how he'd explain that away. He's afraid of what his girlfriend heard, but she asks, "Are you okay? You were groaning like you were dying or something."
Lu Han almost bursts out laughing because no, he definitely wasn't dying, but he manages to hold it in. "I guess it was a nightmare," he says, sounding only a little choked.
"You really don't remember at all? For me, even if I forget right after, there's usually a moment after I wake up when I remember what I was dreaming."
"No, nothing," he says.
"You kept saying something," she persists, "in between the groaning. I couldn't understand it but it sounded like a name, maybe. Mi-something or Min-something, maybe."
"Minseok," Lu Han says without thinking, and it's only when he realizes his girlfriend is looking at him in surprise that it registers what just happened and the world stops. "I, uh...I don't know where that came from."
"Maybe you do remember!" she says excitedly. "Somewhere, deep down. Is that a name? It doesn't sound Chinese."
"I don't know," Lu Han says, but he does because he's heard enough Korean in his dreams to know what it sounds like, or maybe because that same dark corner of his mind that that name came from knows what kind of name it is too.
"Weird." His girlfriend seems intrigued, but she doesn't have a clue how big a thing this is for Lu Han. "I wonder if you do remember more, buried way down in your subconscious. Maybe you could do hypnosis or something to get it out."
She keeps talking, but Lu Han isn't listening, and finally he cuts her off to say, "You know, I don't feel so good. Maybe I should try to sleep a little more."
He closes his eyes, but there's no chance he's going to sleep again. His mind is racing, that name echoing in his head over and over again. What does it mean, that he knows it? As vivid and persistent as his dreams are, nothing has ever crossed into his waking life, and even though he remembers a lot of things, he has never, ever remembered a name, especially one that feels so significant.
He goes back over his dream, trying to remember if there was something different about it. It's a familiar one, him and another person who might be this Minseok in what he recognizes as his bedroom back home. They're young but not too young, probably in high school, and they're in Lu Han's bed together, naked and wrapped up in each other.
As many times as he's had this dream before, he's never been able to get a clear image of the other boy's face in his mind, but today, with shocking suddenness, he sees it. It's gone almost as soon as he realizes what he's seen, slipping from his mind's eye and his memory, but he's sure of what he's seen, as difficult as it is to believe.
It's hard to keep pretending to be asleep, but he can't handle talking to anyone now, not when his mind is reeling. He has never once remembered something he didn't see in a dream first. It's possible, maybe, that he knew this Minseok's name and face in a dream and forgot about it until now, but that's never happened either. The name feels new, and the already-forgotten face, and that has never happened to him before.
It changes the game, because even the most vivid and recurring of dreams can be shrugged off, but if things are coming to him while he's awake, that suggests that they're real, and if they're real, then he has a whole lot more questions about how this is possible, questions he doesn't know if anyone will be able to answer.
Even though Lu Han feels like his world has tilted on its axis, everything looks the same when he stops hiding in his bed and "wakes up" again. His girlfriend has gotten up already and he finds her drinking tea in the kitchen. She smiles at him like everything is normal, because for her, it still is. "Are you feeling better?" she asks gently.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Lu Han says, and he must be a better liar than he thinks he is because she accepts it. "I guess I was just tired."
She doesn't ask anything more about what happened earlier, and Lu Han doesn't say a word about it to anyone, but it consumes his thoughts. He thinks through his other dreams carefully, but nothing more comes to him, and he can't remember Minseok's face again. He half expects the name to slip away too, but it doesn't, and that's the only thing that keeps him from believing he imagined seeing the face he's tried so often to remember without success.
His girlfriend breaks up with him after another six weeks, which may or may not have something to do with his rekindled obsession with his dreams. He's sad, because he's enjoyed feeling normal and he does like her, but he still doesn't love her and it's feeling unlikely that he ever will.
He gets frustrated, after she's gone, with his friends who don't understand why he doesn't care more and with himself for not being able to play at normality better, and with his mind as it refuses to cooperate no matter how hard he tries to remember and understand. He tries to drown his sorrows in alcohol at the parties his friends drag him to "to make you feel better," and resumes his flirting habits in an effort to see if casual sex will distract him from everything else. (It does, but not for very long at all.)
And when he's tired of being a bad boy (which doesn't take very long either), he just resigns himself to muddling along the way he always has, without understanding himself or being understood by the people around him. He's not so unhappy about it, really, just tired; he'll be okay.
And he is, more or less, until early in his second year of university. A first year named Yixing joins his group of friends, and about a month into the school year, he mentions a name that has Lu Han's jaw dropping in shock. "What did you say?" he demands.
"I was talking about my dance club..." Yixing says, confused.
"Don't mind Lu Han," Yifan tells him. "Sometimes he exists on a different plane from us."
"You said a name," Lu Han presses, not caring if he gets mocked for it. "Didn't you?"
"Minseok," Yixing repeats, and Lu Han can't help staring. "Kim Minseok. He's an exchange student from Korea. Do you know him?"
"No, I just..." Lu Han fumbles for a lie to explain his interest. "I mean, maybe. I don't know. I, uh, used to know a guy with that name. I was surprised to hear it."
"Oh, I see," Yixing says. He seems to accept Lu Han's explanation despite his fumbling, but some of the guys who know him better are giving him strange looks. "I should introduce him to all of you some time. He's a little shy and his Mandarin's not very good yet, but he's a cool guy."
It's all Lu Han can do not to scream, "Yes, please!" He knows it's stupid to be so excited, because it's just a name and there's no reason to assume that this Minseok is the one he's dreamed about for so long. Considering that Lu Han still can't remember his face, he might not recognize Minseok even if it is him, and in any case, for all he knows, this version of Minseok will have no idea who he is. It's never been entirely clear in his dreams, but Lu Han thinks that he never remembered anything in those other versions of himself, and it didn't seem like Minseok did either.
Still, he can't help getting his hopes up, and he's so nervous it's hard to breathe when Yixing texts him the next weekend to say that he's bringing Minseok to their movie night. He tries to talk himself down, to remind himself not to expect anything and also not to say anything that will make this Minseok think he's a crazy person. Even if it is, by some miracle, the same Minseok he's dreamed about, if Lu Han comes on too strong the second they meet, he'll never get a chance to know him.
So he does his best to stay calm as he walks into Yifan's apartment, which lasts for all of ten seconds until Yixing and the guy next to him turn around. Yixing opens his mouth to introduce his friend, but he doesn't need to because Lu Han finds himself staring at the painfully familiar face of one Kim Minseok.
It's absolutely overwhelming because it's not just Minseok's face that comes back to him in that moment but everything, a flood of emotions and memories and details that never made it into his dreams. He stumbles back against the door, dazed, and barely hears his friends asking if he's okay. All he sees is Minseok, his face twisted into an expression of confusion that feels so familiar he can't believe he's never seen it before.
Part 6
