Never Let You Go (drabble)
Never Let You Go; Tao/Luhan; g; 807 words; general; slight fluff
Zitao's suffering from fatigue and everyone just wants to make him feel better, especially Luhan.
Written for this prompt at seoulfulness!
Never Let You Go;
It’s like Zitao’s caught in between mental darkness of obscurity and being animatedly existent, and thankfully it was the latter thanks to all the incessant chattering of energized fans crowding around them just a few feet ahead, the brilliant, neon lights flashing continuously as their cameras are set ablaze, capturing every movement, every breath they take. There was one particular girl, tiny, petite, most likely in her late teens, releasing the shutter button just only a feet from his own figure and he has to willfully hold himself back from snatching the damn camera away and crushing it beneath his feet.
He stumbles a few steps forward when he exits the van, his bones suddenly going weak and Yifan grips his upper arm to help him balance, “You okay Zitao?” He asks, his head leaning forward as he looks into Zitao’s drooping eyelids, a mass of red veins clumped together at the corners of his eyes and the latter smiles, pulling away momentarily to rub them with tightened fists, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He manages to crack a smile without teeth, his eyes remaining completely blank and unaware of everything else, but still, Yifan releases him and only nods, turning his head back every now and then to keep careful watch.
Zitao suffers from jet lag the most, as the rest can cope with the differing time zone and their bodies are able to grow accustomed to the change of time for eating, sleeping, and being active throughout the day. He wasn’t the case, and he currently has every symptom of jet lag: headaches, fatigue, insomnia, mild depression, and irritability. There were a few instances while they were waiting to board the plane when Zitao's head would lull back and forth, his body slightly swaying to keep himself standing until Yixing’s pressed against him, his hand coming up to curl his fingers around his waist.
“Hey there little one, just wait a bit and you can cuddle next to me in the plane okay?” Zitao nods, rubbing his forehead between his quivering fingers and he’s smiling again instead of laughing because everything just hurts and whenever he’s in a foul mood Yixing tends to coo at him although he’s fully aware that the former doesn’t appreciate his baby talk. Yixing releases him, Zitao’s eyes still remaining vacuous as they stare off beyond the dingy walls of the airport and he lets his head fall forward.
And then Zitao turns around and there’s Luhan, fan gifts wedged tightly between his arms that girls have randomly shoved in his direction as they waited to board the plane. Regardless he accepted them with a charitable grin and thanked each of them despite their manager’s disapproval. Zitao flickers his eyes down towards Luhan, blinking a few times after he yawns because saltwater trickles near his tear ducts and he’s practically dragging his feet towards the former. Luhan looks up at him, eyes filled with question marks, concern, and he drops everything from his arms when Zitao has his own around him, whispering hoarsely, “Luhan, hold me.”
And that’s what Luhan does, as one hand drapes around the hem of his shirt as he trums his fingers over his back in a lighthearted manner, pressing himself close till they’re chest to chest, their chins resting onto each other’s necks and Zitao shivers when hot air cascades against his neck, and suddenly everything feels so much better because he’s silently smiling with teeth this time when Luhan’s whispering to him about how he feels so warm and that he doesn’t want to let go of him, ever.
Zitao doesn’t want to either, and they stay in the same position for a few minutes, ignoring everyone else calling out his name and Yixing as he pokes his sides, because he can feel delicious heat radiating off of him and he knows everything would suddenly crash if he were to release from his tight grip. Luhan’s practically fisting his hand into the latter’s shirt and Zitao’s sinking his fingers into the nape of Luhan’s neck and everything just feels right.
“Everyone, get ready to board the plane.” Their manager calls out and Luhan’s ultimately disappointed, hands dropping to his side as well as his smile when Zitao pulls away from him completely and he’s now massaging his aching head with his fingertips. Luhan latches onto him again however and continues holding onto his shirt, and Zitao tries to smile but it’s just too damn hard with his impending headache.
“Are you alright?” Zitao wants to cry because he can hear Luhan’s voice shaking with uncertainty and endless worry but he doesn’t really answer him in the end, only giving off a quiet hum and he turns around, leaning into the hand that’s still clutching onto the back of his thin suede jacket, completely still and unwilling to let go.
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I'm starting to love this pairing so much that I'm actually shipping them harder than my ultimate OTP's taoris and krishan sobs, and that's actually quite a feat because I never thought any other pairing would surpass them, certainly not this one. I don't really think I captured this moment in writing as best as I could, but, well, I did my best so ;;
Zitao's suffering from fatigue and everyone just wants to make him feel better, especially Luhan.
Written for this prompt at seoulfulness!
Never Let You Go;
It’s like Zitao’s caught in between mental darkness of obscurity and being animatedly existent, and thankfully it was the latter thanks to all the incessant chattering of energized fans crowding around them just a few feet ahead, the brilliant, neon lights flashing continuously as their cameras are set ablaze, capturing every movement, every breath they take. There was one particular girl, tiny, petite, most likely in her late teens, releasing the shutter button just only a feet from his own figure and he has to willfully hold himself back from snatching the damn camera away and crushing it beneath his feet.
He stumbles a few steps forward when he exits the van, his bones suddenly going weak and Yifan grips his upper arm to help him balance, “You okay Zitao?” He asks, his head leaning forward as he looks into Zitao’s drooping eyelids, a mass of red veins clumped together at the corners of his eyes and the latter smiles, pulling away momentarily to rub them with tightened fists, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He manages to crack a smile without teeth, his eyes remaining completely blank and unaware of everything else, but still, Yifan releases him and only nods, turning his head back every now and then to keep careful watch.
Zitao suffers from jet lag the most, as the rest can cope with the differing time zone and their bodies are able to grow accustomed to the change of time for eating, sleeping, and being active throughout the day. He wasn’t the case, and he currently has every symptom of jet lag: headaches, fatigue, insomnia, mild depression, and irritability. There were a few instances while they were waiting to board the plane when Zitao's head would lull back and forth, his body slightly swaying to keep himself standing until Yixing’s pressed against him, his hand coming up to curl his fingers around his waist.
“Hey there little one, just wait a bit and you can cuddle next to me in the plane okay?” Zitao nods, rubbing his forehead between his quivering fingers and he’s smiling again instead of laughing because everything just hurts and whenever he’s in a foul mood Yixing tends to coo at him although he’s fully aware that the former doesn’t appreciate his baby talk. Yixing releases him, Zitao’s eyes still remaining vacuous as they stare off beyond the dingy walls of the airport and he lets his head fall forward.
And then Zitao turns around and there’s Luhan, fan gifts wedged tightly between his arms that girls have randomly shoved in his direction as they waited to board the plane. Regardless he accepted them with a charitable grin and thanked each of them despite their manager’s disapproval. Zitao flickers his eyes down towards Luhan, blinking a few times after he yawns because saltwater trickles near his tear ducts and he’s practically dragging his feet towards the former. Luhan looks up at him, eyes filled with question marks, concern, and he drops everything from his arms when Zitao has his own around him, whispering hoarsely, “Luhan, hold me.”
And that’s what Luhan does, as one hand drapes around the hem of his shirt as he trums his fingers over his back in a lighthearted manner, pressing himself close till they’re chest to chest, their chins resting onto each other’s necks and Zitao shivers when hot air cascades against his neck, and suddenly everything feels so much better because he’s silently smiling with teeth this time when Luhan’s whispering to him about how he feels so warm and that he doesn’t want to let go of him, ever.
Zitao doesn’t want to either, and they stay in the same position for a few minutes, ignoring everyone else calling out his name and Yixing as he pokes his sides, because he can feel delicious heat radiating off of him and he knows everything would suddenly crash if he were to release from his tight grip. Luhan’s practically fisting his hand into the latter’s shirt and Zitao’s sinking his fingers into the nape of Luhan’s neck and everything just feels right.
“Everyone, get ready to board the plane.” Their manager calls out and Luhan’s ultimately disappointed, hands dropping to his side as well as his smile when Zitao pulls away from him completely and he’s now massaging his aching head with his fingertips. Luhan latches onto him again however and continues holding onto his shirt, and Zitao tries to smile but it’s just too damn hard with his impending headache.
“Are you alright?” Zitao wants to cry because he can hear Luhan’s voice shaking with uncertainty and endless worry but he doesn’t really answer him in the end, only giving off a quiet hum and he turns around, leaning into the hand that’s still clutching onto the back of his thin suede jacket, completely still and unwilling to let go.
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I'm starting to love this pairing so much that I'm actually shipping them harder than my ultimate OTP's taoris and krishan sobs, and that's actually quite a feat because I never thought any other pairing would surpass them, certainly not this one. I don't really think I captured this moment in writing as best as I could, but, well, I did my best so ;;