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Xu Minghao likes being a fine arts major, he really does. He has created things he never thought he could. Met people he never would’ve talked to. In fact, never once has he considered that pursuing something in the arts might be the wrong choice.
Expect maybe now as he sits in his design class, listening to his professor explain what she expects to receive as a final submission. In her own words it’s supposed to be “easy” and “less demanding” than the other projects they’ve worked on in prior weeks.
Minghao feels his eye twitch when she says, “I know you all have other finals to worry about, so try and have fun with this one. Just, get out of your box.”
Get out of your box is basically the whole idea. Just do something different. If you’ve worked with paint the whole term, try photography. If you’ve been doing nothing but abstract art, focus on realism.
There’s no way to fail it.
Unless you’re Minghao staring at an email that your professor personally sent you only minutes before class explaining that she wants you to paint a portrait. She doesn’t elaborate on it, doesn’t explain why, just says to please come and speak to her once the lecture is over.
Which is why, after the nearly two hours Minghao spends in this hall, he doesn’t stand up with his other peers. Instead he stays in his seat, continuing to stare at his computer screen until he’s basically the only student left.
There are a few stragglers, even a few people who go up to speak to the professor as well. Minghao would prefer to have a conversation without any listening ears, but also wants this over and done. He definitely doesn't want to meet with his professor after class during finals week. So he packs his belongings away and makes his way to the front of the lecture hall.
His professor is finishing up talking to another student when he arrives. She gives the student a smile before her attention turns to Minghao. She keeps smiling, but it’s more of a I don’t remember your name, sorry kind of smile. Minghao doesn’t take it too hard, she is teaching nearly hundred students.
He expects her to ask him his name and gets thrown off when she simply asks, “Are you one of the people I sent the email to? About the portrait?”
Minghao blinks, before nodding his head, “Uh, yeah. If I may, can I ask why?”
Her smile softens into a more genuine one, “You haven’t submitted a portrait yet, it’s as simple as that.”
Minghao frowns, making sure to choose his words carefully and respectfully, “But I did…? The first project you had us do, those were self-portraits.”
His professor nods, “That is correct, but I’m not asking for another self-portrait. I’m just asking for a portrait. Preferably of another person.” She reaches onto her desk to grab a sheet of paper, “I try not to keep track of things like this, but you and about eight other students never submitted a portrait. You have done nearly everything else, from watercolor to multi-medium. I want to see something- for lack of a better word- basic from you.”
Minghao is left speechless. Everything about what’s being asked feels wrong, but to actually express that seems like it might step over some sort of line. So, Minghao just weakly smiles and gives a small bow. He hopes his professor can’t tell how defeated he is.
“I will do my best.”
--------
“I’m going to fail my class.”
“You’re not going to fail, don’t be dramatic.”
“No I am, you don’t understand-”
“Hao, I have to redesign campus and explain why I’m redesigning it.” Mingyu says, so defeated that it completely halts Minghao from complaining further, “Please don’t complain about failing your course to me.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Mingyu sighs, “I would’ve let you complain if I wasn’t actually worried about this final myself. Your degree isn’t less than mine just because I have to do real math.”
Minghao smiles sympathetically, “I know, and I am being dramatic. I just really can’t think of anyone who will let me paint them, everyone is going to be so busy with finals and I really don’t want to ask some stranger.”
“I know you said no already but I could-”
“I can’t paint you, I already used you as a model when I was making clothes. I don’t think my professor would be happy if I used the same guy twice.”
Mingyu is quiet for a long time and for a second, Minghao is certain he’s fallen asleep.
“Why don’t you ask Chan?”
Minghao doesn’t respond, chooses to instead pick at some lint on his jeans. He should clean them better. Maybe switch the detergent he’s using. This one leaves little things like this, plus its scent is so strong and-
“Hao?”
Minghao looks up, meeting the eyes of Mingyu who is no longer lying on his desk. Mingyu looks at him unimpressed. Minghao tries to act like he doesn’t know why.
“What?”
“Why haven’t you asked Chan? He’s not going to be busy, all his classes are basically finished already.”
Minghao takes this information like it’s new, “Really? I didn’t know that. Good for him, really.”
“He texted the group this weeks ago, stop acting like this.”
“Like what?”
“Avoidant attachment.”
Minghao rolls his eyes, turning away from Mingyu, “Whatever. It’s not my job to know everything about him. My bad for missing that news.”
“Oh my god, do you hear yourself?” There’s actual annoyance in Mingyu’s tone before he quickly switches gears, “Hold on, you probably haven’t drank any water today. That's definitely contributing to your shitty mood.”
Minghao’s face goes red with embarrassment, “Don’t talk about me like I’m a houseplant-”
“No, we are not on speaking terms until you rehydrate yourself. Then you can complain all you want and I will even apologize if you think I should.”
MInghao hates that he lives with someone so reasonable when it comes to physical well-being, but he still gets up to follow Mingyu to the kitchen without any real push back.
--------
[8ball]
do you have chan’s #
[soupyoung]
?
why
[8ball]
i need it?
[soupyoung]
yeah no shit but
WHY
dont you have it
[8ball]
no
i got a new phone and only saved like three numbers
i havent asked for his number since
[soupyoung]
we’re all in a gc 2gether tho?
[8ball]
yeah and?
have of that chat isnt name for me
*half
I’ve been doing process of elimination to figure out whos whos
[soupyoung]
you are so weird
just ask form names lol
[8ball]
can you just give me chan’s number
lecture me later
[soupyoung]
oh yeah haha
ill send it your way
--------
Three months ago, Minghao was in a bar celebrating Jeonghan’s birthday.
Three months ago, Minghao decided that he was going to drink as much as he possibly could.
Three months ago, Minghao had less than three shots and made out with Lee Chan in the bathroom of said bar.
Three months ago, Minghao kissed Chan until he said “I think I like you way too much.”
Three months ago, Minghao got a text from Chan.
Three months ago, Minghao deleted Chan’s number.
--------
[minghao]
hi is this lee chan?
[lee chan?]
Um yeah?
Who is this?
[minghao]
hey sorry haha it’s minghao
[lee chan?]
Oh!
Hi! Sorry I don’t know why your name didn’t show up
[minghao]
haha it’s okay
i had to get a new phone
[lee chan]
Ah! That makes sense!
How have you been? I havent seen you in a while
[minghao]
yeah classes have been eating up my free time
been missing you guys
[lee chan]
We miss you too
[minghao]
sorry to change the topic so quick
but i have a final and im wondering
could you maybe help me with it?
[lee chan]
Oh for sure!
What would you need?
[minghao]
i would need to paint you
so like
i guess you would just need to sit down
for like
an hour
max
[lee chan]
Ooooo! That sounds fun!
Just send me some days that youll need me?
[minghao]
i will
thank you so much chan
[lee chan]
Of course, anytime hao :)
--------
Minghao feels like he’s going to throw up.
“Hao, it looks fine-”
Minghao doesn’t hear the rest of Mingyu’s sentence as he pulls off the beige wool sweater he had been wearing. It had hung off his shoulders in a way that made it seem like he cared way too much. And he doesn’t care too much. He barely cares.
“You’re just going to his apartment-” Minghao throws the sweater across the room with a frustrated groan. Mingyu sighs, “Just wear something comfortable. Something that won't make your skin itch.”
Minghao frowns as he glances over at his options, most of them being wool and awful on bare skin. He doesn’t understand why he can’t make a decision, why something like picking an outfit isn’t coming like second nature to him. Sure, he might not have been sleeping well the past few days and maybe he has been more spaced out recently. But all that shouldn’t be impacting his ability to pick an outfit.
He chews on his bottom lip as he grabs a warm toned striped sweater. It doesn’t feel bad in his hands, but it doesn’t feel amazing. It’s tolerable. Which almost makes it worse.
“What if I just don’t go-”
“Hao, put the sweater on and go. You’ll be mad at yourself if you’re late.”
Minghao glares at Mingyu while he tugs the clothing item over his head. Mingyu doesn’t humor him after that, instead he herds Minghao towards the door as soon as both arms are in their respective sleeves.
--------
Chan tastes like cheap liquor and maraschino cherries. It’s intoxicating, doing more to make Minghao’s head spin than any of the drinks he has had. Chan slips a hand under Minghao’s shirt, cold fingers causing him to shiver and fall further into Chan. Minghao cradles Chan’s face with his hands.
Minghao feels nearly blackout when he mumbles against Chan’s lips, “I’m worried you’ll always be part of the things I make.”
Chan pulls back. Minghao follows after him.
--------
[chan]
Are you on your way?
[hao]
yes sorry im a block away
got a little turned around sorry
[chan]
Don't apologize!
Let me know when youre at the lobby and i'll buzz you in!
[hao]
thank you chan
--------
Chan’s apartment is nice. It’s small, but the lighting is warm and there are plants nearly everywhere and all the furniture brings out colors that the white walls aren’t able to. Minghao just stands in the entry way for a few seconds to take it all in.
Chan allows him, or maybe doesn't notice. Minghao likes to think he’s being allowed.
“I told Seokmin that you were coming over, so he’s spending the night with Soonyoung.”
Minghao looks over to Chan who is moving around in the small, three counter kitchen. Minghao swallows down what he wants to say in favor of, “Oh, I didn’t mean to kick him out.”
Chan laughs, not the kind that makes his head tilt back and his body shake, but it’s still nice to hear that sound. Especially after so long, “You didn’t kick him out. I did. Besides.” He looks over at Minghao, eyes twinkling, “I know you don’t like people watching you paint.”
Minghao tries to let Chan’s words wash over him. Tries not to allow his mind to dwell on them and tries not to show how uncomfortable they make him because those words just show how seen he is by Chan.
It makes him feel like breathing fresh air after years of living in smoke-filled skies. It makes him feel safe and yet so overwhelmed he becomes paranoid.
“I’ll get us some drinks while you set up?”
Minghao nods, kicking his shoes off as he finally moves further into the apartment, “Okay. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I just don’t want to get in the way or make it so you have to change the whole setup.”
Minghao doesn’t respond. He doesn’t trust himself to say the proper thing.
So, instead he focuses on getting his canvas ready, his paints all laid out and the area he wants Chan to be comfortable. Chan won't be able to move much, but Minghao has decided to focus on the face rather than the full body. Easier to paint and much quicker to finish.
Perfect for now, because Minghao feels like his heart might stop whenever Chan gets too close.
“We don’t have any tea, and we’re kinda low on anything that's not orange juice so I hope that's okay for today.”
Minghao looks up at Chan who holds a glass of- well if Chan’s words are anything to go by- orange juice. Chan smiles down sheepishly. Minghao smiles back as he takes the glass. Their fingers brush.
“That’s okay, I probably should up my intake of Vitamin-C anyway.”
Chan looks relieved at Minghao’s words as he sits down where Minghao points, “Well, if you want to take a carton of it, please do. Seokmin got really into the idea of making sorbet but he hasn’t found the proper ratio yet so he just… keeps buying more juice.”
Minghao raises an eyebrow as he scans which pencil he wants to start with, “He’s following a recipe right? Wouldn’t that tell him the proper ratio?”
“God I wish he was using a recipe, he’s so against it though and I have no idea why.”
Minghao smiles, finally finding the right pencil, “Well, it certainly sounds like Seokmin, you can’t deny that.”
Chan sighs fondly, “Yeah, you got me there.” His eye catches the pencil and he quickly sets his own cup of juice to the side as he straightens his posture, “How uh- Is there a way you want me to sit or pose?”
Minghao shakes his head, “No, not really. Just be comfortable. I’ll tell you if I need you to move.”
Chan lets out a slow breath, determination clear in his features, “Okay. You’ll tell me.”
--------
[channie]
Sorry about last night. I had wayyy too much to drink haha
Let's just forget about it?
Hey i know its still pretty early, so youre probably still asleep
Or i hope youre still asleep, you were pretty tired last night
But give me a text when you can yeah?
And take care of yourself Hao!
--------
Chan- bless his heart- is not a good subject to paint. Or rather, he would be a good subject, but Minghao can’t find a way to properly capture him in a way that does him justice. He’s getting frustrated. Erasing and redrawing the small lines over and over and over again. Nothing looks right, nothing feels right and Minghao hates it.
“Hey, Hao?”
Minghao hums, trying to get rid of a line he made way too dark and now won't go away. God, why won’t it just go away-
Fingers wrap around his wrist, and he goes completely still. He slowly looks up from the canvas to look at Chan, who looks back with concern and worry. Minghao feels his bottom lip tremble and he bites it as hard as he can.
“Hao, let’s take a break. You don’t- You look ready to snap, and I don’t want that to happen.” Chan reaches out and tucks a few loose strands of Minghao’s hair behind his ear, “You look tired.”
Minghao squeezes his eyes shut and it takes most of his energy to keep his head up, “I am tired.”
“Do you want me to get you some water?”
“Okay.”
“Just ‘okay’?”
“I don’t know, Chan.”
“What don’t you know?”
“Why you kissed me.”
Chan’s hands suddenly feel cold. Minghao tries to tell himself that it’s just in his head. But it’s not. He knows that. He said the part that he wasn’t supposed to. He brought up the night he’s been wanting to put behind him for months now. He should’ve just painted Mingyu-
“I kissed you because I like you.” Chan’s voice shakes, “And I like you so much it scares me. A lot.”
MInghao forces his eyes open, a burst of energy hitting him, “What?”
Chan’s eyes dart from Minghao’s to random spots in the room, “Please don’t make me say it again. Just- When I sent you that message, which I’m not sure if you saw-”
“I did.” Minghao’s mouth suddenly feels very dry as he admits that truth, “I did see that message. I didn’t respond on purpose. I was going to. Maybe in a few days, I don't know. I wasn’t being fair. But my phone, it did break that day.”
Chan blinks at him, slowly nodding as Minghao speaks. He doesn’t look mad, and Minghao takes that as a blessing.
“I don’t blame you. I probably would’ve done the same.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I wasn’t being fair sending that message either. But I was scared- or I guess, anxious? I don't know. I woke up feeling really happy and then I actually thought about it and then suddenly I wanted to kinda throw up.”
Minghao grimaces, “Sorry.”
Chan looks confused before his eyes go wide with horror and he reels back, “No, that's not what I meant! It wasn’t because of you! It was just, I realized that I like- God, it doesn’t sound good no matter how I phrase it, but it was just a lot to wake up and realize that I like someone who I’ve known for so long.” Chan moves closer to Minghao, eyes pleading for understanding, “I was overwhelmed by finally letting myself realize that I like you and have liked you for years.”
Minghao stares at Chan, slowly understanding everything and knowing exactly how he needs to paint now.
“You are my Scarlet Sunset .”
Chan tilts his head, lips being pulled down in a small frown. Minghao wants to paint over them.
“I don’t think I understand-”
“It means I want to kiss you, again. But also properly.”
Minghao barely has all the words out before Chan is pulling him forward. Their lips connect in a much calmer way than they first did. Chan no longer tastes like the cheap liquor, nor the maraschino cherries. This time, he tastes like orange juice and the bees wax from the lip balm he’s been using.
He still makes Minghao’s head spin.
Maybe even more now.
Chan smiles into the kiss as Minghao melts into it. He can feel himself almost mixing into the environment around him, mixing in with Chan. His hands had let go of the canva and other supplies long ago in favor of holding onto Chan.
He sighs as he pulls back, just enough so he can rest his forehead against Chan’s. He doesn’t want to move. Even if his back is aching and his legs hate the angle he’s folded over at. He feels like he belongs here.
“Hao? Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.”
Chan’s voice is soft and makes Minghao think about warmer weather.
“I won’t fall asleep, I promise.”
Minghao takes a deep breath as he sits up, smiling when he’s able to look at Chan’s face again. He reaches out, fingertips gently tracing Chan’s cheek bones, the top of his lip, any part of Chan he wants to be able to recreate. Any part of Chan he wants to always know.
Chan lets him, closing his eyes as he stays still like he had when Minghao was painting him.
The reminder makes Minghao drop his hands from Chan’s face.
“I have to finish the painting.”
Chan slowly blinks his eyes open, glancing down at the canvas, still completely white and barely even containing a sketch. Minghao swallows, trying to feel okay with the knowledge that Chan is seeing a piece of art that is barely even art. Barely even worth looking at.
“When is it due?” Chan keeps his eyes on the sketch as he takes Minghao’s hand into his own, “Because we could finish it another day?”
Minghao feels disappointment crawling over his skin. It makes him feel gross and he tries to beat it down. He doesn’t need to ruin the moment. So he smiles even if it might not reach his eyes and hopes his tone isn’t harsh or cold.
“Okay.”
Chan pauses, frowning as he scans Minghao’s face, “You sound upset. We don’t have to do that, I just- You seem tired, Hao.”
“We can do it a different day, it’s okay-”
“Hao, what do you actually want to do?” Chan squeezes Minghao’s hand, so much comfort being given in that small gesture, “Tell me.”
Minghao takes a minute, thinking his thoughts over so he can say what he wants without coming across as blunt or rude. It’s harder than it usually is. Minghao is sure it’s because he’s speaking to Chan.
“I don’t have to do this all today, I probably shouldn’t because it will burn me out and then I’ll be miserable.” Minghao says, “I think I’m just… I think I had decided I would finish this today, and now I’m having a hard time accepting the change.”
Chan’s gaze softens, “Oh Hao, I’m sorry.”
Minghao shakes his head, an apology isn’t what he wants right now, “Don’t be sorry, I’ll get over it. It’s just- It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” Minghao nods and is glad when Chan doesn’t push any further, “Okay. Let me know if that changes.”
Minghao opens his mouth to say that he will, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. He gives Chan an apologetic look as he pulls it out, scanning his notifications and seeing that the most recent one is from Mingyu. He can’t read the full message, but the first line being everything okay? just checking… sums up what the rest probably reads like.
“Do you need to leave?”
Minghao almost shakes his head before realizing that he’s probably overstepping something, “It is getting late, so probably.”
Chan’s bottom lip juts out in a pout, “Ah, okay. Is Mingyu coming to get you?”
“No, I’ll just walk back it’s not-”
“What? No! You can’t walk, it’s already dark.”
“It’s not that dark-”
“Just stay here, Minghao.”
None of Chan’s words make sense until seconds later.
“I can’t- I don’t want to impose, Chan. I can call Mingyu and he can-”
“You’re not imposing, I would really like you to stay,” Chan is looking around the room, face tinted pink with his ears being much darker, “I don’t want to force you to stay if you do want to go home, but if you’re not staying because you’re worried about… I would really like it if you stay.”
Minghao’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth and it takes him a bit too long to form a proper sentence, “I’ll stay. I would also really like that.”
There’s something about admitting that outloud that is terrifying and joyous. Minghao almost wants to hide his face to stop himself from giggling which threatens to spill out of him. He tries to keep his composure, but he can’t stop his lips from stretching into a wide grin.
Chan isn’t doing much better as he does dissolve into giggles, falling forward until his head hits against Minghao’s chest. Minghao’s smile only grows as he wraps his arms around Chan’s torso.
Chan stays against him for a few more minutes until he sighs and lefts himself away. Minghao keeps his hand on Chan’s arm, not wanting to disconnect himself from Chan. Not yet at least.
“Do you want to uh… I’ll be honest, I don’t really have anything to make for dinner.” Chan looks embarrassed for the first time the whole night, “Seokmin said he would get stuff because it was his turn, but he came home only with orange juice so… We might be a little limited in terms of dinner. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, we can always order something.” Minghao leans forward and presses a kiss to Chan’s forehead. When he moves back, Chan is staring at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. Worry floods Minghao, “What’s wrong?”
Chan is quick to shake his head, “Nothing! It’s just, you kissed me.”
Minghao swallows, suddenly realizing that he probably just crossed some boundary, “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I won’t-”
“Don’t say you won't do it again, please.” Chan is smiling again, “I don’t want to just makeout drunk or kiss you when you paint me. I want you to kiss me whenever, and I want to kiss you whenever.”
Minghao feels the colors in the living become more vibrant. Can feel the bottle greens bleed off the plants and mix in with the mulberry from the couch pillows. Even the blinding white from his unfinished canvas bleeds into everything until it no longer sticks out.
“Are you asking me to date you?”
Chan groans, hands covering his face to cover how red it’s growing, “Don’t just say it!”
Minghao smiles fondly, “You’re cute, I hope we’re dating.”
He reaches out and gently pulls Chan's away from hiding his face. Chan doesn't fight him, just looks at him with a pout and a flushed face. Minghao leans forward and presses a soft kiss onto Chan's lips. When he pulls away, Chan looks more beatiful than any painting that has been created. He doesn't think any painting will be able to capture beauty in a way that will ever measure to Chan. He also knows that Chan won't only be in his own art, but in any art he sees going forward.
"Who else am I going to have as my muse?”