[Fic] Perennial - EXO - 2/3
Title: Perennial
Pairing: Kris/Yixing
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Genre: AU, reincarnation, romance
Warnings: Past life death/angst
Summary: The perennial flower dies, or so it seems. But at its root, it lives. When the seasons change, the flower, the leaves, that come back are not the same. But somehow they are.
***
Part One * Part Two * Part Three
***
It was possible, Kris thought, that they needed to talk about it. He wasn’t sure what there was to talk about, besides him confessing something that was at best embarrassing, and at worst, reason to call for a doctor. Either he was becoming psychic, and that seemed unlikely, or there was something deeper going on.
Maybe he’d seen the pot in the nursery. Maybe that explained why he had dreamed about it only minutes before it had come to his doorstep. That seemed only slightly more logical than thinking he was actually having some kind of dreams that may or may not have related to some past life.
“Did you get the pot the orchid is in at the nursery?” he texted Yixing.
“No, it came from a store nearby. Why?”
“It’s nice,” he replied, and knew it was not nearly a good enough answer.
Yixing sent him back a series of smilies accompanied by a shot of flowers he knew Yixing must be working on. He still had no idea what kind of flowers they were, and at least that was something that hadn’t changed. The pot still bothered him, and when he sat, and considered, really considered, he figured out why. The nursery had more pots than Kris could count, any number of which Yixing could have chosen for the orchid. But Yixing had bought a different one, at a place he didn’t get a discount. And the thought left him staring into space.
***
Yixing was not always free, or at the nursery. Kris knew this. He still did his usual nursery rounds looking for where Yixing was. If he was busy, Kris loitered looking at slug repellents and seed packets and fending off any other offers of help. He wasn’t really in a hurry. Mostly, he had an errand to run, and a question to ask. And all those things necessitated Yixing, at least in his mind.
There was something about seeing Yixing’s face light up in recognition, mouth rounding, eyes smiling. Surprised to see him, but also pleased. And Kris tried not to feel too tall, too conspicuous, too out of place, since Yixing was in some decorative little nook.
“Big landscaping project again?” Yixing asked, getting up from where he’d been crouched and forcing Kris to step back. Instinctive, and protective. To himself, Kris thought, and tried not to scowl. People hated when he did that, thinking he was angry at them. The clanging sound was immediate, as his head ran into something hanging from the ceiling.
“Not this time. But I do need flowers. I trampled some of my clients’ violets, so I need to replace those.”
“Ohh. What color?”
“Purple,” Kris said, turning back from the wind chime he’d crashed into. Dangling unicorns stabbing him in the head and rewarding him for trying to keep his wits.
Yixing’s lips curved, almost trembling. “What color purple?”
Kris balked, and then shoved his phone into Yixing’s space. “Here, I have a picture.”
“We have those. You’re in luck,” Yixing said, voice far too amused. “Follow me.”
And then Kris had to stop himself from wanting to play with the ties on the back of Yixing’s apron as they walked.
“I’m assuming you know how to plant these,” Yixing as he put the four that Kris needed in a box.
“Yeah, I think I can manage that.” Nothing weird or difficult, just replacing the flowers in the ground. He wasn’t any master gardener, but even he knew how to do that.
“Just checking. Anything else?”
The impish grin had Kris wishing he had something to flick at Yixing, or that they were in a better place to do it, without Yixing’s arms full of flowers.
Sehun had seemed to think his clumsiness in forcing the trip was something to laugh about, especially when he’d been teasing Kris about where he was going. He’d never mentioned Yixing’s name, but the implication had been far from obscure.
And that was a different kind of waiting, watching Yixing ring up the purchase, and take Kris’s cash.
“Are you free tonight?”
The look that Yixing sent him was confused. “You need a consult for violet planting?”
Kris laughed. “No. I owe you dinner again for helping me out with moving.”
“You bought dinner for us that day,” Yixing reminded him, as he handed Kris his change.
“Yeah, but that’s all they expected,” Kris said. And then his mouth kept moving aimlessly, “Since that’s what I promised them.”
Yixing pursed his lips. “I didn’t even expect that. I was glad to be able to help.”
“I don’t think I was expecting you to haul boxes around for me when I asked for your help with some flowers.”
The dimple flashed prettily. “Sometimes the best things are unexpected?”
“So, unexpected dinner? Unless you’re busy? Or don’t want to.”
“Oh, I want to!” Though his tone was eager, Yixing leaned forward, resting his hands on the front of the register as his face took on something that looked almost like concern mingled with hope. “It just seems disingenuous to accept too eagerly, when it’s not something you have to do.”
If Yixing wanted to be assured that the dinner was for more than obligation, then he could do that. That Yixing wanted to go in itself made the corners of his mouth rise. “Then because it’ll be fun.”
Fun, and perhaps a way to find out more about the dreams, what he was feeling when he studied Yixing’s face. Yixing made him curious, and scared all at once. The fear was what irked him, and he shoved it back. There had to be a reason for all of it. Avoiding Yixing would be cowardly, and only make him obsess. And there was part of him there that was breathless, horrified at the thought of rejection. Hanging on Yixing’s words, hungry for a touch, a smile.
“It sounds fun,” Yixing agreed, teeth sliding off of his lower lip and causing Kris to smile back at him. “Text me when you’re free? Because I’ll be off early.”
Then they would meet away from the nursery. He was still smiling, face almost stuck as he nodded once. “I will. See you later.”
Kris reached out, patting Yixing’s crossed hands as he turned.
And walked out feeling like he’d touched a live current.
***
They tried it a new way, Kris meeting Yixing at the restaurant since it was closer to where Yixing lived. It seemed fair, letting Yixing choose the restaurant since, technically, he was being thanked. It was an incredibly flimsy excuse for meeting up, one that in retrospect seemed far too exposing. Suggesting they hang out sometime, that was better. It was a friendly thing to do, something that any person did when wanting to spend time with someone whose company they enjoyed. There were no motives to be read into that.
But flimsy excuses raised flags all over.
Yixing wore red, seated already in the little restaurant. Kris had parked several blocks away, just finding parking difficult as Yixing had warned him it might be. It apparently got really crowded in that part of town, when dinner-seekers were at their peak. And the restaurant, with the soft blue walls, was what Yixing called a hidden gem.
The waitress greeted Yixing by name, being greeted in return by Yixing’s smile. And something in that fed unease in the pit of Kris’s stomach. Not jealousy, exactly. Fear. He had no place for either of those things.
“I’m glad you found it okay,” Yixing said, staring across at him, almost surprising in his intensity. “I obviously come here a lot.”
“Is your cooking that bad?”
Yixing pouted, arms crossing as he leaned back in the small chair. “No. Actually it’s pretty good. What about you?”
“Oh, I eat out for a reason. But I don’t poison myself.”
“I imagine you can follow a recipe, if you can build rooms.” And Yixing forgave or forgot Kris’s teasing, when he half leaned across the table. “This chicken is really good. You should try it. I don’t know what you like, but that’s one thing I always get.”
Kris set his menu down. “Get what you like, then. I’ll try that.”
“You trust me that much?”
“From garden to table,” Kris said smirking.
“What, you can tell how good food is based on how well the restaurant is built?” Yixing shot back, and the laugh centered him.
When he forgot his anxiety, when he was just focused on having interesting and fun conversation, all there was was Yixing. Watching Yixing as he ordered. The way his cheeks puffed out when he thought, or the way he chewed on his lips or the edge of a fingernail. The way he used his hands to push at the table, or to express his amusement. Pale, despite his work, quick enough to respond to Kris’s jests. Quick enough to look smug when he made his own.
Watching as Yixing got utterly distracted by a song coming over the radio, and mouthing along until he realized what he was doing and laughing at himself.
It was cute, and Kris had no defenses.
“I like this song,” Yixing said, clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders as though it hadn’t happened at all.
“I guessed. Actually, I like it, too. I own this CD.”
“Okay, that taste I’ll trust,” Yixing said, as their food was put down.
“There’s another reason I should thank you,” Kris said, serving himself some chicken. “We just finalized the schedule for the job you called me about.”
The job Yixing had been calling him about when Yixing had gotten roped into helping him move.
“Will that include flowers too then?” Yixing asked.
“Not many, but a few. I did a walkthrough with the owner, gave her the estimate yesterday. It feels good to have jobs lined up. So, thanks.”
“I wouldn’t have known who to suggest before you came in, so it makes the nursery look good.”
“As long as I do a good job.”
Yixing seemed unconcerned by that. “Can’t imagine why the quality went down,” he drawled.
“Got round from too many dinners.”
“I know I said I like being fed, but you don’t always have to thank me by feeding me.”
“Next time we can do this without thanks at all.”
Yixing’s eyed widened, mouth going round with them. “Anytime. Though, eating at work would be problematic.”
“Yeah. Sometime when I’m not filthy and sweating from a site.”
“That’s not always bad,” Yixing mused, eyes flicking up quickly to Kris’s face before dropping.
Something in the way he said it made a shiver move over Kris’s skin. He swallowed hard, and decided to move the topic of conversation away from something that felt a little bit too much like flirting, or arranging dates.
“Your parents live nearby?”
“Not too close, not too far.”
And he smiled. Something he could relate to.
***
It was Sehun’s idea, more or less. “You like spending time with Yixing, and Zitao and I want to get to know him better, so invite him! And Joonmyun will be there. They’ll have something in common!”
Joonmyun, friend and colleague. His landscape artist whose being busy had led to meeting Yixing in the first place. He’d possibly had a moment considering that it’d be nice to see Yixing, and it was a very non-date invitation considering a pack of his friends would be there, too. And he made sure to be clear that it was a group event as he texted the movie title.
But that hadn’t kept him from hovering over his phone as though Yixing’s answer by text was vital. If he couldn’t come, or didn’t want to, then that was fine. They’d just meet up some other time. But the more he thought about it, the more Yixing amidst his friends appealed to him. Sure, he knew there was a high chance one of them was going to embarrass him in front of Yixing, but it was like a puzzle piece. The people closest to him, the things he liked to do. And Yixing fitting into those things.
“I’m free! Do you need me to bring anything?”
The smile almost hurt his face. “Anything you like to drink or eat. We’ll all be contributing snacks.”
He was glad no one was there to see him smiling at his phone. But he ran his thumb over Yixing’s name one last time, before finding something else to do to distract himself. Like cleaning, even if the movie night was days away.
***
Sehun arrived first, with beer and what looked like a pep talk in his eyes. He’d gotten out of Kris that Yixing was coming just about the second he’d gotten to work the next day.
“It’ll give Joonmyun someone to talk to.”
Kris hadn’t bothered pointing out, because it sounded a little mean, that giving Joonmyun someone to talk to was the least of his worries. Just having Yixing there was his goal, and he hadn’t gotten any further than that. Getting to study Yixing’s expressions from a safe distance, when they had distraction around them. The thought of him wedged in between Zitao and Joonmyun, laughing. Or Yixing coming to join him in the kitchen, leaning near him against the counter and looking up at him.
Even in his mind, he was picturing Yixing’s mouth and pondering what it would feel like to kiss him.
He’d nearly brought a hammer down on his finger imagining that.
The other three arrived almost on each other’s heels, Zitao and Joonmyun chatting first, and Yixing not much more than a minute later. He greeted Yixing with a smile, ushering him in and preparing for introductions. But it was so close, he looked back at Zitao as he closed the door.
“What did you guys do, close the elevator doors on him?”
Yixing laughed, waving his free hand in denial as Zitao sputtered and Joonmyun’s eyes went wide. “I was just coming in the door when the elevator doors closed.”
“Good,” he said, and stepped aside so Yixing could step out of his shoes. He almost reached for Yixing’s back to guide him forward, and stopped himself halfway. “So, you’ve met Zitao and Sehun.”
Sehun, from near the kitchen, nodded, and Zitao waved.
“This is Joonmyun, the landscaper I told you about. Joonmyun, this is Yixing. He saved at least two jobs for us with his plant knowledge. Kept me from having to let Sehun go.”
Sehun made a muffled sound of amusement at the joke, which no one took seriously except Yixing who looked momentarily startled.
“I just work at a nursery and helped them out,” Yixing explained.
“Kris wouldn’t know a daisy from a rose bush, so that’s good,” Joonmyun quipped. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Kris and Sehun seemed to think you worked miracles.”
It was hard not to just clench his jaw and fade back, but Sehun was signaling, and there was commotion as everyone compared drinks and food, and started getting to know each other.
“That’s nice,” Sehun said, voice quiet as Zitao and Joonmyun rummaged for glasses and bowls, and Yixing leaned against the kitchen counter and talked to them.
“What do you mean?” Kris asked, knowing as soon as the words were out that he should’ve stayed quiet and let Sehun have his moment. But Sehun’s next words had tingles going down his spine, even as Zitao laughed loudly, and Yixing’s laughter echoed.
“He fits right in with us,” Sehun said.
He hoped his face wasn’t hot as he turned away, carrying his own food as everyone came out as well. He hung back, waiting for everyone to find a place, and knew what Sehun was up to when he shuttled Joonmyun and Zitao to his two-seater couch, leaving the three other seats for Sehun, and Yixing, and himself. Of course, it put him on the end, next to Yixing. As they settled, there was chatter that kept Kris from obsessing over the fact that he would be next to Yixing for the entire movie.
Zitao eyed them and pulling the table a couple of inches closer.
“Everyone set?” Sehun asked, taking over Kris’s remotes. “Okay, here goes.”
And Kris tried to be more aware of the movie starting up, than of Yixing beside him. He turned his head once, Yixing turning his as well and meeting his eyes and smiling, as though to tell him all was well.
Five minutes in, Joonmyun sighed. “That flower bed is beautiful.”
“It is,” Yixing agreed. “But those are all spring flowers. It's going to look ugly in the fall.”
Joonmyun leaned forward. “You're right.”
“Oh no,” Sehun murmured as Joonmyun and Yixing began to discuss just that. “We've created a monster.”
Watching Joonmyun and Yixing get into deep conversation about raised flower beds and spring blooms and the rest of them shifting, and looking at each other.
“I think this is how Joonmyun feels when we start talking about caulk and weatherizing,” Sehun said.
“Maybe.”
“Flowers have to build roots just like houses need foundations,” Joonmyun shot at them, and they all groaned.
“We should've watched something to do with the War of the Roses,” Kris joked.
“You know that war had nothing to do with roses?” Sehun asked
And Yixing laughed. “No, we don’t need wars. Just zombies.”
He nudged Yixing’s arm. “Then pay attention to the movie.”
“I could quote all the dialogue at you,” Yixing said. And proceeded to quote a line before it’d be said.
Which meant he had come to watch a movie he’d already seen before, probably more than once, unless his memory was fantastic. Maybe just because Kris had asked, and the thought had him flushing.
Joonmyun threw a napkin at Sehun. “We’ll talk after,” he promised Yixing, who laughed and settled back. Settled back, and as the movie wore on, seemed to get closer to Kris. At first he thought it was just natural shifting, but it felt like more and more weight was being pressed against Kris’s shoulder. First barely a brush, and then more of the length of their upper arms being pushed together. And when he looked, Yixing’s focus was on the movie, not even looking if he noticed Kris staring at him.
He took it, almost twenty minutes of it, before his pulse started going out of control.
“I need another drink,” Kris said. “Anyone need anything?”
There was a small chorus of answers, and Yixing eased from him as he stood. It gave him that bare minute to collect himself. He could make it. Make it without staring at Yixing’s fingers, or the way he wiggled his toes in his socks.
But he stopped still on the way back. Where he had been sitting, Zitao was, and Joonmyun had taken up a spot where Sehun had been. Sehun was on the little couch, and the only open place was beside him. He passed out drinks, avoiding Yixing’s eyes in case the disappointment would just seep out of him.
“What are you doing?” Sehun whispered, leaning into him when he’d settled. “You don't want him next to you?”
Kris hushed him, keeping his eyes on the screen.
He had no idea, thirty minutes later when Zitao started poking at an empty chip bag, that there was a plot on. Yixing offered to get more, and Zitao smiled beatifically while Kris stared hard at him.
And the second Yixing disappeared, Sehun was off the couch like a rocket, claiming Yixing’s seat.
It was a copy of his own situation, Yixing stopping short when he saw his seat had been stolen.
“Musical chairs,” Yixing murmured.
He could do nothing but tease. “We meet again.” Teasing was better than sending dirty looks at Sehun. “This is more comfortable anyway.”
But that didn’t explain why Sehun had abandoned it. All that mattered was that Yixing grinned, and that Kris, attempted at the very least, to relax. Movie, not Yixing. Yixing’s thighs, were he could see them even without trying. It helped that Yixing was into the movie, even if he knew all about it. Rapt attention, right beside him. But Yixing wasn’t the movie he was supposed to be watching. It made him think of the stories he’d heard, the moves he’d tried, to keep contact with a girlfriend.
"I hate this part," Yixing said, as a bunch of zombies seemed to rising up and battle with ghosts or eating them, he didn't know. Yixing curled forward on himself, still with an eye on the screen, and Kris, mostly without thinking reached out to pat Yixing's shoulder. It was mostly meant as a buck-up shoulder squeeze, but Yixing leaned into it immediately, getting Kris's arm to slide all the way around him.
"You've seen it more than once and still hate parts of it?" Kris asked, amused despite the fact that he felt like he'd gotten punched in the ribs as Yixing leaned into him.
"It's not this part exactly. It's what happens. Oh. There."
One of the main characters was brutally murdered with screeching screams, and Yixing wasn't watching, more with his face pressed on Kris's chest.
"I liked her," Yixing complained.
Kris couldn't have cared if every person in the cast was dying violent deaths. He was just trying to keep breathing with Yixing's head so close, and a hand bracing himself on Kris's stomach. And he didn't really dare look at his friends, fearing what he'd see. A round of thumbs-up or something, As though he didn't feel awkward enough. Though as the minutes wore on, so did the movie, and it didn't seem like Yixing was going to move. His back relaxed a fraction, allowing him to relax into Yixing against him. And it wasn't many more minutes beyond that, with screams still echoing in the room, that he realized Yixing had fallen asleep.
He wasn't sure, but it was possible that his jaw was going to break as tightly as he was clenching it. Then he wasn't moving for a totally different reason. Before, he'd been trying to keep Yixing from touching him more than necessary, for his sanity. And then, he was trying not to move so Yixing wouldn't be disturbed - which might mean Yixing moving away. Sehun would have something to say about that, he knew. It didn't mean-- It meant just what it meant. That he liked Yixing against him. He felt right there, the solid weight of a sleeping man. He wondered how it would feel in reverse, if he were resting his head on Yixing's chest. Breathing in whatever scents he wore, whatever he smelled like naturally. But it kept Kris from doing anything but staring blankly at the screen. His hand was clutched in the back of the seat, but a glance over told him he could have let his arm drop, letting his hand rest over Yixing's ribs or waist. It just had his fingers tightening further.
Yixing jolted at the sound of a door slamming in the movie, scaring Kris half to death.
"Sorry, I fell asleep," Yixing said, his voice a bit rough, head still on Kris, but beginning to move.
It was instinctual, fast and desperate, grabbing Yixing’s far shoulder and jostling him the half an inch he’d moved and back into place.
"It's okay," Kris said, reaching up to pat the hand that was resting against his stomach.
It was apparently the wrong move, because at a squeak from his right, he looked up to see Sehun covering his mouth - likely to cover the complete and utter smugness there. Not only that, but Zitao and Joonmyun were also grinning. If his glare could have killed them all, he was fairly certain it would have. He wasn't sure how Sehun had clued Zitao in on what he was trying to do, but it was obvious all three of them were somehow working together.
And Yixing, instead of fighting him, relaxed further. Murmuring something Kris couldn’t catch. And his breath caught as Yixing’s hand turned under his, catching a couple of Kris’s fingers and holding onto them. His face flamed, turning away from his friends so he could breathe.
He hadn’t felt that way since he was 16 and on his first real date - a movie - with a girl. He was glad Yixing had his fingers, and not his palm, as he could feel it becoming sweaty as his nerves shot up. Of course, at 16 he’d been hoping for, and had received, a make-out session afterward. He couldn’t find Yixing’s slightly parted lips, and lean in to meet them, because they weren’t alone.
But the thought that had him clenching his teeth together, was that he wasn’t sure he would have stopped himself if they had been.
***
It was not the most awkward thing he had ever faced, moving his arm so that Yixing could sit up and collect himself. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as it might have been, had they been alone. Or perhaps, it would have been preferable. But it was luck that the conversation picked up immediately, Joonmyun wanting to know more about Yixing’s job, and how he’d gotten into plants, and Zitao industriously starting to gather the garbage they’d accumulated during the movie.
And rather than sit beside Yixing and smolder with a part of his side that only grew cooler, he got up to help. Zitao’s secret smile did nothing to make his nerves ease. But he was at least thankful that nothing was said.
“I actually need to be getting back,” Joonmyun said, meeting them halfway back from the kitchen, grinning. “I have an early day tomorrow. It sounds like Yixing is in my direction, so I’ll give him a ride, too. It was fun! We should do this more often.”
“They just want to talk about bulbs some more,” Sehun murmured, making Zitao laugh and Joonmyun stick his tongue out at him.
It was soon, sooner an end than Kris’s head had been able to conjure, and as Joonmyun was saying goodbye to the others, Yixing stepped up to him.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Yixing said.
“Anything, to give Joonmyun someone to talk to,” Kris joked.
Yixing reached out with an arm, and for a second Kris thought he was going for a handshake, except it was wrong. And he had a man against him, hugging him. Kris’s hand came up by instinct, patting at Yixing’s lower back. He didn’t know who was around them, why, all he knew was Yixing pressed close, a low murmur from his throat as he squeezed Kris’s waist with one arm. And then quick, like a cat, Yixing leaned and kissed Kris’s cheek.
“A tip, for use of your shoulder,” Yixing said, a tease in his voice, but eyes full of something else as he backed away. Something almost shy about it, even with his smile bright.
“I didn’t know I was charging now,” Kris blustered, almost having to fist his hands in his pants to keep from either hiding them behind his back like a shamed schoolboy, or reaching out to keep Yixing close.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Yixing said, and leaned around him to talk to Sehun and Zitao. “And nice seeing you again.”
There was a chorus of goodbyes, and the door closed after Yixing and Joonmyun.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating?” Zitao said, almost pouting on the question, as though Kris had been holding back from him.
“We’re not,” Kris said, tugging down hard on the sleeves of his shirt. He wasn’t sure why he was trying to cover himself, but he stared, shocked, as Sehun laughed.
“What? We’re not.”
“So lots of guys flirt with you when they’re leaving? I know I don’t kiss you on the cheek.”
It made him want to reach up and feel his cheek, relive Yixing’s eyes just after. Some sort of shyness there, some kind of- He didn’t know what it was, and seeing it as invitation just made him want to scowl.
“Yixing is just…a different kind of guy.”
“Sure, a guy who wants to go out with you. He keeps agreeing to meet you, volunteers work for you, comes to help you move, eats with you. Probably more things I don’t know. Then tonight, he falls asleep on you, and kisses you?”
His cheek. Just his cheek. He rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart, hoping it’d help it settle, or help get air into his lungs, something.
“I’ve never dated a man,” Kris said, finally choosing the safest tactic. Denial. “We’re friends.”
“Then you didn’t see him smile when you grabbed him and kept him from moving away from you. You let him- Fuck, are you playing with him? I thought you were straight, too, until the way you started acting around him.”
Zitao, serious faced and watching them like a tennis match, piped up. “Maybe Kris isn’t sure what he wants yet.”
“Yeah, but you don’t just ask a guy out on what seems like a bunch of pre-dates, and invite him to cuddle on you and get his hopes up, and then squash him.”
“Kris wouldn’t intentionally hurt Yixing,” Zitao argued. “It’s obvious Kris likes him.”
Sehun shook his head, pinning Kris with a stare that seemed far too old for him. “So if he showed up with a bottle of wine, asked you out, and tried to kiss you, you’d shove him off and tell him you only date girls?”
His eyes closed, picturing Yixing in front of him. Hand around Yixing’s on the wine bottle’s neck, holding steady as Yixing lifted himself onto his toes. And Kris shook his head, banishing the thought, and biting his lip to try and abolish even the imagination of what Yixing’s mouth would feel like. He was about to defend himself when he saw Sehun’s bemused smile.
“You really are into him. So you’d accept him?”
“It’s Yixing,” Kris said, as though that explained everything. It did, and it didn’t. Not even to him.
“Then talk to him. Tell him, if you’re confused, or if you want to try going out or something. But he’s into you, I’m pretty sure of that. I think it’d help him to know, maybe to prepare himself if you decide this isn’t for you.”
Kris stared at the orchid, purely white and reflecting the light of the TV. Pulling off petals wouldn’t give him answer of “he likes me/he likes me not.”
It was easier to think that Yixing didn’t care, that he saw Kris as only a new friend. It’d make it easier to shove the fading dreams to the back, tell himself it was just some kind of passing attraction that was out of the norm.
When he searched inside, wondering if the thought of kissing Yixing, touching him, stripping him, brought up any negative feelings, he had to swallow down desire.
But most telling was when he pictured someone else in his place, Yixing pressing his mouth against some other man’s, smiling at him, wrapping an arm around some stranger’s waist.
He’d nearly broken his toothbrush.
***
It became a standoff in his head. One day of no contact after the movie became two, became three. Yixing texted him the third day, and Kris forced himself to wait until the next morning to respond. It hadn’t been an invitation, or anything urgent. Just a picture of a broken flower pot with its contents spilling out onto the gravel.
“Oops,” the message read.
He laughed a little when he got it, and the rush through him just seeing Yixing’s name had been unavoidable to notice.
It wasn’t that he was trying to avoid being too eager. It was almost a test in a way. To see if anything changed the longer he was away. If absence proved the fondness or proved he was over-thinking. There were no dreams to follow him, only thoughts of Yixing as he pressed his face into his pillow. Remembering the night Yixing had massaged his back. Or the way his collarbones had looked in the restaurant. Or the serious way he sometimes met Kris’s eyes, and when that expression melted into amusement.
Kris smiled into his pillow, just imagining it.
And he texted Yixing back, to tell him to think of the plants and not break any more of their homes.
“Will you make them a new one? ^^” Yixing texted back that afternoon, the tease evident.
And he didn’t want that time. “I’ll think about it,” he replied.
He didn’t hear from Yixing over the weekend. A fact emphasized by Sehun’s parting words as they finished up for the night.
“You meeting up with Yixing soon?” Sehun asked.
His mouth thinned as he shook his head. And instead of being tempted to swing by the nursery, or send a text, he busied himself in his apartment, doing errands, checking up on the books for the business. Payroll was coming up. Not the part of owning his own business he enjoyed, all the little things. But being his own boss, that he liked very well.
Building something for someone wasn’t as simple as just drawing up plans, and doing it. He had to estimate labor, how many guys, how many hours. How much material. If he didn’t have the equipment, what he had to rent. Insurance payments. Sehun had become more and more savvy over the two years he’d been working with him, starting as just a summer job, and onto full time when Sehun realized it was something he not only enjoyed, but was something he was good at. After Kris estimated the materials, Sehun could look at the information and estimate man hours, like it was something gut-deep. Instinct. It could be taught, he’d learned it, but instinct was something else. And he’d come to trust Sehun’s, double-checking his own calculations. It could mean the difference between a job where they - he, because his guys got paid no matter what - didn’t make squat, or a job where everyone got paid, and everyone was happy. There were a few times he’d had to appeal to the client that they were going over, and usually it was something beyond his control, like rotten boards he could have had no way of knowing were bad. Those situations were different. And the weather fucked with them now and again. No one liked to see storm clouds boiling as they were putting on a roof.
He didn’t know what to make of Sehun’s expression when they met up early Monday morning.
“Hope you didn’t bring a big lunch, because I planned something,” Sehun said, leaving him to go finish framing for some concrete they were having delivered the next day.
Lunch. He put it out of his head, because he had enough to do just coordinating drywall installation, and making sure he made off with one of the nail guns he needed to replace so no one nailed a hand with it or worse.
He’d been hauling rafters and shoving them up to the men for half an hour, when Sehun’s whistle signaled it was lunch time. It made him hiss through his teeth, because they were just a few boards short, but he got three simultaneous looks begging pity on them.
“We’ll finish up after,” Kris said, sighing, and waited for them to come down off the ladders so they could walk to the back of the truck where everyone usually stashed their food.
Only, instead of a bunch of lunch sacks, there was a box, and a grinning Sehun.
And Yixing.
“Come on, guys,” Sehun said, waving everyone closer. “Yixing picked up lunch boxes for us. A treat to start the week.”
And on Sehun’s dime, apparently, since Kris hadn’t hadn’t given him the company credit card. Or he was going to make sure it’d been on Sehun’s dime, and not Yixing’s.
“Hey,” he said, stepping up to Yixing and effectively blocking him from the chorus of thankful men. “This is a surprise.”
“Sehun organized this,” Yixing said, smiling at where Sehun was proudly being a hero. “He asked me to pick them up and bring them by, so we were able to find a time that worked.”
“Asked you, huh? Here, walk with me. I’ll show you the site.”
It got them some privacy, and he wasn’t sure what else. He just knew he was aware that he was sweating, and that Yixing wore a red shirt and his white hoodie again and looked fresh and clean. Like if he just leaned close enough, Yixing would smell like a morning after rain. But he tore his eyes from Yixing’s jawline, as Yixing spoke.
“Yeah, Sehun caught me at the nursery this weekend,” Yixing said. “Said it’d be a nice surprise for everyone. And for you. But… You’re missing lunch.”
“I’m the boss. I can take a few minutes,” Kris said, and made Yixing laugh. “It won’t hurt to give them a little extra time. We’ve been working hard today.”
“I can see that. Who could pass up sweaty men in their natural environment?” Yixing teased.
Kris kept himself from reaching up to scratch where his undershirt sagged. It wasn’t particularly hot, but hauling wood around would make anyone sweat.
“You’ve seen me at work, so I guess it’s only fair,” Yixing said, and Kris’s eyes lingered at his cheeks, the contours and dips of them. “But this isn’t exactly something I can help you out with this time.”
“No, not without a lot of paperwork,” Kris agreed. “But we’re well underway. Concrete tomorrow, new roof here where we were working. We’ll have this finished, and shingled by tomorrow.”
“It’s amazing,” Yixing mused. “Actually, it makes me wonder what we’ll be using to build things in twenty years.”
Kris chuckled, and patted a two by four. “Hopefully nothing that requires too steep a learning curve. I think I finally got this nail thing down.”
“Do you ever want to build something for yourself?”
“Yeah,” Kris said, staring at the framework they’d already laid. “Something from the foundation up, my own design. Picking out every piece of wood would have meaning. The crew would hate me.”
“No, they’d know they’re doing it for you. I’m sure they’re always careful, but it’s different when it’s someone you know. Joonmyun would do your garden?”
“He probably has a design started already. You’ll help me pick out the plants?”
The way Yixing smiled at him was more emotion than it was vision. The tightening at the corners of his mouth, the dimple. The way the midday light caught his eyes. As though Kris had just said something that made him incredibly happy, and that was the only way to express it. It was a moment he couldn’t look away from, the itch in his head as he grinned back. Maybe it was something he shouldn’t have done. Probably something he shouldn’t have said, but it felt right.
And for a moment, it almost seemed like Yixing wanted to say something. Some pause, some held breath. Something Kris wasn’t sure he should anticipate or run from, when Yixing looked at him like that. But Yixing turned his head, and it fell flat and left him unsatisfied.
“I should go, so you can eat and relax,” Yixing said.
“Oh. Right, and you have work today? I can walk with you out front.”
Yixing looked back to him, the laugh bubbling. “I can make it to the road safely, don’t worry. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah. And thanks. For Sehun, too.”
Yixing patted his arm, and waved at everyone enjoying their lunch before disappearing around the corner. And Kris had to stop himself from running after, hoping for another parting hug, another of those secretive smiles that spoke to Kris alone.
Instead, he almost walked into Sehun. Sehun, who was lucky he was still rattled by Yixing, wondering what Yixing had been trying to say, or he’d have been bitching at him for meddling.
“Had you talked to him since last weekend?” Sehun asked.
“We texted a couple of times.”
“But not going out to eat or making excuses to go see him, like you were. You were avoiding him. So call him, take him out as thanks for bringing lunch. Or just talk to him on the phone.”
Sehun seemed a bit irritated as he walked off to reclaim his lunch.
The problem was, setting up another meeting with Yixing, just talking to Yixing casually, wasn’t going to help him.
He wasn’t avoiding Yixing because he didn’t want to be swayed to his decision.
He was avoiding acting on the decision it seemed he’d already made.
***
Will you go out with me?
It seemed so simple. Such a simple, natural step. Kris parked in front of the nursery the night he knew Yixing was closing up. He knew, because he’d texted like a coward, somehow fishing for the information and getting it in a short, but sweet text exchange.
He’d made Yixing a gift, even. It seemed strange, but it was hiding in his car for after. Scraps of collected lumber, a little leftover paint. The things Yixing made him think of, the things he did because of Yixing. He’d never stepped foot so many times into a nursery in his life. Plants growing, the stink of insecticides, they made him think of Yixing.
So did his phone, and his bed, and his passenger seat. So did sitting alone and watching TV and wishing Yixing was there.
He got out of his car, when he saw movement, and had Yixing looking around in alarm.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No! I just thought you might be a robber,” Yixing said, laughing and patting his chest in relief. His chest, not in a nursery uniform, but street clothes, Kris saw as he got closer and Yixing turned fully to him. A dark jacket, finely cut, and slim, straight jeans. The shirt he wore shimmered almost silver, and it took Kris’s breath even as his heart took off. He had no idea what he was doing. But he knew he wanted to be right there.
“You’re going out,” Kris said, more than asked.
“I was…meeting a friend,” Yixing said.
Well, that was an out. Not one he’d been wanting. “I’m sorry. This isn’t a good time then. I don’t want you to have to keep her waiting.”
“Him,” Yixing called, before Kris could do more than shrug. “Keep him waiting. But it’s fine. You wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
Watching Yixing finish locking up gave Kris time to compose his face, to take a breath, something. Before his heart exploded from racing too fast.
“Just to talk,” Kris said. He hadn’t been prepared to explain himself, that much was certain. Sure, he’d said it in his head a hundred times, but actually saying the words was harder. He knew that there weren’t any kind of magic words, no special order of sentences that would cause Yixing to accept him, or even consider it. But he dwelled on that, hoping he’d have some insight.
He could almost see Sehun rolling his eyes, telling him to just be himself. But that was harder when he wasn’t sure if who he was was good enough. “If you want it, go for it,” Sehun had told him when he’d left work. And if he didn’t, back off, was the implication Kris had gotten. The one thing he couldn’t do was tell Yixing how hard he’d fought not to want it. He was pretty sure that had never gone well. He wasn’t going to be Mr. Darcy, digging himself a hole.
“It’s good to see you,” Yixing said. “I know things have been busy for you.”
“They have. We’re finishing up the job tomorrow, so it’s right on schedule.”
He looked down to see Yixing rubbing his thumb over his fingers. A nervous habit, perhaps, as much as the fists Kris had clenched at his sides.
“How about I drive you where you’re going?” Kris offered.
Yixing paused a moment, before nodding, and locking up the door. At least they could relax, in the car. He didn’t even put his key in right away, and Yixing didn’t reach for his seatbelt. So perhaps Yixing knew as well.
“I had a couple of things to talk to you about. But I brought you a gift, actually.”
“Oh?
Kris snagged the box from the back seat, hauling it up between them. He hadn’t even thought to wrap it, just a plain cardboard box. Yixing smiled up at him, like a child about to tear into a present. And Kris watched his face as he lifted the flaps, and then lifted out what was inside.
It wasn’t pretty, more a piece of modern art than anything. He’d collected pieces of scrap wood, bits cut off the ends, or ripped scraps, or pieces from renovations. A little square of leftover plywood was the base, and he’d built off of that, nailing and screwing bits of wood to form a square flower pot. A little inverted pyramid almost, with uneven protrusions. But he’d gotten a very lovely shade of blue spray paint, and shot it first with that, and then a glossy top coat. It gleamed like the world’s most ugly sapphire,
“I had some scraps laying around,” Kris explained. “You did ask if I’d make a home for a flower, right?”
Yixing’s mouth dropped open, a hic of amusement leaving him as he turned the flower pot around.
“It’s not exactly waterproof,” Kris said, touching the edge of it. “But you have pot liners or something?”
“Yes,” Yixing said, his lips trembling. “It’s very…unique. Thank you. I’ll have to pick out…just the right flower for this.”
Kris raised an eyebrow. “Are you teasing.”
“I’m not. I’m… Kind of. But no, I’ve never seen anything like this.”
And Kris held his breath, as Yixing spotted the small piece of white paper inside the flower pot. Again Yixing glanced up at him, curious. Maybe he thought it was some discarded receipt or something. But it was more than that. It was a question.
“Before you open that, I have kind of an odd story to tell you. It’s going to sound a little weird, so…”
“All right?” Yixing said, eyes darting to Kris’s curiously.
Kris shifted, staring at his hands and trying to lay it out logically. As logically as it could be, anyway. He took several breaths. For some reason, even if it sounded insane, he needed Yixing to know about the dreams. They couldn’t be a secret between them, especially not if there was any truth to them. His biggest question was if Yixing might have had dreams like his as well. If they’d both been feeling a little scared, and hopeful, and wary that the other would think them insane.
“Before we met, I had dreams about a woman named Yixing. It felt like it had been a very long time ago. We were married, and she died. And in those dreams, she became…you as you are now. Told me that you were waiting. It felt like more than a dream. Like it had been real, like it was some kind of past life.”
Yixing frowned. “So you dreamed that I was your reincarnated...wife?”
And Kris wasn’t surprised that Yixing was staring at him as though he’d gone a little crazy. How they had gotten from gifts, to discussing dreams. Perhaps if Yixing knew the full extent of it, his interest would be replaced with something far different. He stared at Yixing’s hands, balled up on top of his thighs, and wanted to put his hands over them.
“She died giving birth to our child. The child died, too. But she bled to death. So much blood. That’s why I reacted the way I did when you scraped yourself.”
He let Yixing absorb that, fingers idly touching the skin of his arm where he’d been hurt. “But I wasn’t going to die from a cut.”
“No, I know that. But after that, I would dream of you. Sometimes strange, almost premonition dreams. I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Yixing’s lips twisted, but not in humor. “To see if you could figure those out?”
When it was put that way, it sounded wrong. “No.” Kris raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing for a moment and hoping to figure out what to say. “I thought I was going crazy. Have you ever had any dreams like that?”
“No,” Yixing said softly. “So maybe your past life theory is wrong.”
Kris shook his head, disappointment mingled with fear that Yixing would misunderstand. They could’ve been laughing about it together, and instead he was scrambling. “And that’s okay. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had dreams too. I just needed to know in case- The paper will explain.”
Yixing’s mouth was set and firm, but he unfolded the paper that had been in the flower pot, and Kris watched as he read the words Kris had written.
“Will you go out with me?”
Apparently it could be that simple.
His eyes darted between Yixing’s hands, and face. He wanted to see Yixing smile. To realize the rest of the crap didn’t matter, because Kris wasn’t going to let it. He finally was going to let it go. If the dreams were real, or not real, shared, he didn’t care. He just wanted a chance with Yixing.
“That’s what I came here for tonight,” Kris told him. Yixing turned his head to look at him, and it made Kris’s words run dry.
“I know you'd dated women,” Yixing said slowly. “But the way Sehun seemed to encourage and the way you…”
Sehun would have told Kris that the dreams were all of his repressed feelings trying to whack him over the head, or told him to lay off the alcohol at night. Either way it would’ve led back to him needing to make a decision about Yixing.
“I’ve never dated a man before,” Kris admitted. “I just wanted you to know everything.”
“I’m really flattered,” Yixing started, the paper still tightly gripped between his fingers. “But-“
It felt like his brain stuttered. “Yixing-”
“You were fighting this, weren’t you? No wonder you started to pull away. Oh, I'm stupid.”
Yixing had noticed him trying to make distance. Testing himself had also had repercussions for Yixing.
“Because I didn’t just want to be your friend,” Kris clarified. “I had to be sure.”
They were two men and a ridiculous flower pot, and Yixing looked like he’d been hit, shaking his head every few seconds as though to clear it.
“I think I need time to think,” Yixing said
“Of course, but-“
Yixing opened the door, half stepping out of the car and Kris fumbled for his own side before Yixing held out a hand to stop him. They stared at each other through the overhead light. “I can’t tell you if your dreams were real, and I wish… I wish I had memories to match them, but you might realize you’re glad I don’t. Maybe I didn’t need them to fall for you.”
Yixing shook his head, said goodnight, and closed the door before disappearing back in through the nursery gates with the box from Kris still in his arms.
For the first time Kris wasn’t leaning to get him back, but instead horrified on his own side of the car.
Don’t leave. He’d screamed it in his dreams.
I didn’t need them to fall for you.
Everything was at his fingertips. Proof of Yixing’s feelings. Proof that Sehun had been right, that his fears had been unfounded. Proof that he could have been driving with Yixing to his apartment right then. As a couple.
Kris started his car with a numb hand. Backed out, wondering where things had gone so wrong. He’d known telling Yixing about the dreams would be risky. He couldn’t stay. But until he found the words for Yixing, he couldn’t sit still either.
He pulled back out onto the street. Taking his time back to his apartment might clear his head, and maybe put words in there instead. He couldn’t just call Yixing and tell Yixing he had something to say without actually having something to say for the second time in one night.
Yixing was going to ask him why he’d made his decision.
He could tell Yixing that. All he had to say that he’d fucked up, that all he wanted was for Yixing to give him a chance. Take him on a date. Hold his hand. He wanted to tell Yixing that the dreams had had nothing to do with why Kris had fallen for him. The urging of his friends had nothing to do with it. He was choosing to-
He saw the lights of the car that wasn’t stopping, caught between the decision to stop or go.
But it was too late.
***
Sirens.
One step.
Two.
The edge of a red car.
There were lots of red cars.
But not that red. Not those lines.
Not with a ding on the trunk that Yixing had run his fingers over more than once.
A car that was crumpled and smashed.
The license plate number.
Kris.
His dread weighed him down and pushed him forward.
He ran and could not run fast enough.
And he didn’t want to get there, didn’t want to know.
What if…
What if…
***
Pairing: Kris/Yixing
Rating: PG-13 (this part)
Genre: AU, reincarnation, romance
Warnings: Past life death/angst
Summary: The perennial flower dies, or so it seems. But at its root, it lives. When the seasons change, the flower, the leaves, that come back are not the same. But somehow they are.
***
Part One * Part Two * Part Three
***
It was possible, Kris thought, that they needed to talk about it. He wasn’t sure what there was to talk about, besides him confessing something that was at best embarrassing, and at worst, reason to call for a doctor. Either he was becoming psychic, and that seemed unlikely, or there was something deeper going on.
Maybe he’d seen the pot in the nursery. Maybe that explained why he had dreamed about it only minutes before it had come to his doorstep. That seemed only slightly more logical than thinking he was actually having some kind of dreams that may or may not have related to some past life.
“Did you get the pot the orchid is in at the nursery?” he texted Yixing.
“No, it came from a store nearby. Why?”
“It’s nice,” he replied, and knew it was not nearly a good enough answer.
Yixing sent him back a series of smilies accompanied by a shot of flowers he knew Yixing must be working on. He still had no idea what kind of flowers they were, and at least that was something that hadn’t changed. The pot still bothered him, and when he sat, and considered, really considered, he figured out why. The nursery had more pots than Kris could count, any number of which Yixing could have chosen for the orchid. But Yixing had bought a different one, at a place he didn’t get a discount. And the thought left him staring into space.
***
Yixing was not always free, or at the nursery. Kris knew this. He still did his usual nursery rounds looking for where Yixing was. If he was busy, Kris loitered looking at slug repellents and seed packets and fending off any other offers of help. He wasn’t really in a hurry. Mostly, he had an errand to run, and a question to ask. And all those things necessitated Yixing, at least in his mind.
There was something about seeing Yixing’s face light up in recognition, mouth rounding, eyes smiling. Surprised to see him, but also pleased. And Kris tried not to feel too tall, too conspicuous, too out of place, since Yixing was in some decorative little nook.
“Big landscaping project again?” Yixing asked, getting up from where he’d been crouched and forcing Kris to step back. Instinctive, and protective. To himself, Kris thought, and tried not to scowl. People hated when he did that, thinking he was angry at them. The clanging sound was immediate, as his head ran into something hanging from the ceiling.
“Not this time. But I do need flowers. I trampled some of my clients’ violets, so I need to replace those.”
“Ohh. What color?”
“Purple,” Kris said, turning back from the wind chime he’d crashed into. Dangling unicorns stabbing him in the head and rewarding him for trying to keep his wits.
Yixing’s lips curved, almost trembling. “What color purple?”
Kris balked, and then shoved his phone into Yixing’s space. “Here, I have a picture.”
“We have those. You’re in luck,” Yixing said, voice far too amused. “Follow me.”
And then Kris had to stop himself from wanting to play with the ties on the back of Yixing’s apron as they walked.
“I’m assuming you know how to plant these,” Yixing as he put the four that Kris needed in a box.
“Yeah, I think I can manage that.” Nothing weird or difficult, just replacing the flowers in the ground. He wasn’t any master gardener, but even he knew how to do that.
“Just checking. Anything else?”
The impish grin had Kris wishing he had something to flick at Yixing, or that they were in a better place to do it, without Yixing’s arms full of flowers.
Sehun had seemed to think his clumsiness in forcing the trip was something to laugh about, especially when he’d been teasing Kris about where he was going. He’d never mentioned Yixing’s name, but the implication had been far from obscure.
And that was a different kind of waiting, watching Yixing ring up the purchase, and take Kris’s cash.
“Are you free tonight?”
The look that Yixing sent him was confused. “You need a consult for violet planting?”
Kris laughed. “No. I owe you dinner again for helping me out with moving.”
“You bought dinner for us that day,” Yixing reminded him, as he handed Kris his change.
“Yeah, but that’s all they expected,” Kris said. And then his mouth kept moving aimlessly, “Since that’s what I promised them.”
Yixing pursed his lips. “I didn’t even expect that. I was glad to be able to help.”
“I don’t think I was expecting you to haul boxes around for me when I asked for your help with some flowers.”
The dimple flashed prettily. “Sometimes the best things are unexpected?”
“So, unexpected dinner? Unless you’re busy? Or don’t want to.”
“Oh, I want to!” Though his tone was eager, Yixing leaned forward, resting his hands on the front of the register as his face took on something that looked almost like concern mingled with hope. “It just seems disingenuous to accept too eagerly, when it’s not something you have to do.”
If Yixing wanted to be assured that the dinner was for more than obligation, then he could do that. That Yixing wanted to go in itself made the corners of his mouth rise. “Then because it’ll be fun.”
Fun, and perhaps a way to find out more about the dreams, what he was feeling when he studied Yixing’s face. Yixing made him curious, and scared all at once. The fear was what irked him, and he shoved it back. There had to be a reason for all of it. Avoiding Yixing would be cowardly, and only make him obsess. And there was part of him there that was breathless, horrified at the thought of rejection. Hanging on Yixing’s words, hungry for a touch, a smile.
“It sounds fun,” Yixing agreed, teeth sliding off of his lower lip and causing Kris to smile back at him. “Text me when you’re free? Because I’ll be off early.”
Then they would meet away from the nursery. He was still smiling, face almost stuck as he nodded once. “I will. See you later.”
Kris reached out, patting Yixing’s crossed hands as he turned.
And walked out feeling like he’d touched a live current.
***
They tried it a new way, Kris meeting Yixing at the restaurant since it was closer to where Yixing lived. It seemed fair, letting Yixing choose the restaurant since, technically, he was being thanked. It was an incredibly flimsy excuse for meeting up, one that in retrospect seemed far too exposing. Suggesting they hang out sometime, that was better. It was a friendly thing to do, something that any person did when wanting to spend time with someone whose company they enjoyed. There were no motives to be read into that.
But flimsy excuses raised flags all over.
Yixing wore red, seated already in the little restaurant. Kris had parked several blocks away, just finding parking difficult as Yixing had warned him it might be. It apparently got really crowded in that part of town, when dinner-seekers were at their peak. And the restaurant, with the soft blue walls, was what Yixing called a hidden gem.
The waitress greeted Yixing by name, being greeted in return by Yixing’s smile. And something in that fed unease in the pit of Kris’s stomach. Not jealousy, exactly. Fear. He had no place for either of those things.
“I’m glad you found it okay,” Yixing said, staring across at him, almost surprising in his intensity. “I obviously come here a lot.”
“Is your cooking that bad?”
Yixing pouted, arms crossing as he leaned back in the small chair. “No. Actually it’s pretty good. What about you?”
“Oh, I eat out for a reason. But I don’t poison myself.”
“I imagine you can follow a recipe, if you can build rooms.” And Yixing forgave or forgot Kris’s teasing, when he half leaned across the table. “This chicken is really good. You should try it. I don’t know what you like, but that’s one thing I always get.”
Kris set his menu down. “Get what you like, then. I’ll try that.”
“You trust me that much?”
“From garden to table,” Kris said smirking.
“What, you can tell how good food is based on how well the restaurant is built?” Yixing shot back, and the laugh centered him.
When he forgot his anxiety, when he was just focused on having interesting and fun conversation, all there was was Yixing. Watching Yixing as he ordered. The way his cheeks puffed out when he thought, or the way he chewed on his lips or the edge of a fingernail. The way he used his hands to push at the table, or to express his amusement. Pale, despite his work, quick enough to respond to Kris’s jests. Quick enough to look smug when he made his own.
Watching as Yixing got utterly distracted by a song coming over the radio, and mouthing along until he realized what he was doing and laughing at himself.
It was cute, and Kris had no defenses.
“I like this song,” Yixing said, clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders as though it hadn’t happened at all.
“I guessed. Actually, I like it, too. I own this CD.”
“Okay, that taste I’ll trust,” Yixing said, as their food was put down.
“There’s another reason I should thank you,” Kris said, serving himself some chicken. “We just finalized the schedule for the job you called me about.”
The job Yixing had been calling him about when Yixing had gotten roped into helping him move.
“Will that include flowers too then?” Yixing asked.
“Not many, but a few. I did a walkthrough with the owner, gave her the estimate yesterday. It feels good to have jobs lined up. So, thanks.”
“I wouldn’t have known who to suggest before you came in, so it makes the nursery look good.”
“As long as I do a good job.”
Yixing seemed unconcerned by that. “Can’t imagine why the quality went down,” he drawled.
“Got round from too many dinners.”
“I know I said I like being fed, but you don’t always have to thank me by feeding me.”
“Next time we can do this without thanks at all.”
Yixing’s eyed widened, mouth going round with them. “Anytime. Though, eating at work would be problematic.”
“Yeah. Sometime when I’m not filthy and sweating from a site.”
“That’s not always bad,” Yixing mused, eyes flicking up quickly to Kris’s face before dropping.
Something in the way he said it made a shiver move over Kris’s skin. He swallowed hard, and decided to move the topic of conversation away from something that felt a little bit too much like flirting, or arranging dates.
“Your parents live nearby?”
“Not too close, not too far.”
And he smiled. Something he could relate to.
***
It was Sehun’s idea, more or less. “You like spending time with Yixing, and Zitao and I want to get to know him better, so invite him! And Joonmyun will be there. They’ll have something in common!”
Joonmyun, friend and colleague. His landscape artist whose being busy had led to meeting Yixing in the first place. He’d possibly had a moment considering that it’d be nice to see Yixing, and it was a very non-date invitation considering a pack of his friends would be there, too. And he made sure to be clear that it was a group event as he texted the movie title.
But that hadn’t kept him from hovering over his phone as though Yixing’s answer by text was vital. If he couldn’t come, or didn’t want to, then that was fine. They’d just meet up some other time. But the more he thought about it, the more Yixing amidst his friends appealed to him. Sure, he knew there was a high chance one of them was going to embarrass him in front of Yixing, but it was like a puzzle piece. The people closest to him, the things he liked to do. And Yixing fitting into those things.
“I’m free! Do you need me to bring anything?”
The smile almost hurt his face. “Anything you like to drink or eat. We’ll all be contributing snacks.”
He was glad no one was there to see him smiling at his phone. But he ran his thumb over Yixing’s name one last time, before finding something else to do to distract himself. Like cleaning, even if the movie night was days away.
***
Sehun arrived first, with beer and what looked like a pep talk in his eyes. He’d gotten out of Kris that Yixing was coming just about the second he’d gotten to work the next day.
“It’ll give Joonmyun someone to talk to.”
Kris hadn’t bothered pointing out, because it sounded a little mean, that giving Joonmyun someone to talk to was the least of his worries. Just having Yixing there was his goal, and he hadn’t gotten any further than that. Getting to study Yixing’s expressions from a safe distance, when they had distraction around them. The thought of him wedged in between Zitao and Joonmyun, laughing. Or Yixing coming to join him in the kitchen, leaning near him against the counter and looking up at him.
Even in his mind, he was picturing Yixing’s mouth and pondering what it would feel like to kiss him.
He’d nearly brought a hammer down on his finger imagining that.
The other three arrived almost on each other’s heels, Zitao and Joonmyun chatting first, and Yixing not much more than a minute later. He greeted Yixing with a smile, ushering him in and preparing for introductions. But it was so close, he looked back at Zitao as he closed the door.
“What did you guys do, close the elevator doors on him?”
Yixing laughed, waving his free hand in denial as Zitao sputtered and Joonmyun’s eyes went wide. “I was just coming in the door when the elevator doors closed.”
“Good,” he said, and stepped aside so Yixing could step out of his shoes. He almost reached for Yixing’s back to guide him forward, and stopped himself halfway. “So, you’ve met Zitao and Sehun.”
Sehun, from near the kitchen, nodded, and Zitao waved.
“This is Joonmyun, the landscaper I told you about. Joonmyun, this is Yixing. He saved at least two jobs for us with his plant knowledge. Kept me from having to let Sehun go.”
Sehun made a muffled sound of amusement at the joke, which no one took seriously except Yixing who looked momentarily startled.
“I just work at a nursery and helped them out,” Yixing explained.
“Kris wouldn’t know a daisy from a rose bush, so that’s good,” Joonmyun quipped. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Kris and Sehun seemed to think you worked miracles.”
It was hard not to just clench his jaw and fade back, but Sehun was signaling, and there was commotion as everyone compared drinks and food, and started getting to know each other.
“That’s nice,” Sehun said, voice quiet as Zitao and Joonmyun rummaged for glasses and bowls, and Yixing leaned against the kitchen counter and talked to them.
“What do you mean?” Kris asked, knowing as soon as the words were out that he should’ve stayed quiet and let Sehun have his moment. But Sehun’s next words had tingles going down his spine, even as Zitao laughed loudly, and Yixing’s laughter echoed.
“He fits right in with us,” Sehun said.
He hoped his face wasn’t hot as he turned away, carrying his own food as everyone came out as well. He hung back, waiting for everyone to find a place, and knew what Sehun was up to when he shuttled Joonmyun and Zitao to his two-seater couch, leaving the three other seats for Sehun, and Yixing, and himself. Of course, it put him on the end, next to Yixing. As they settled, there was chatter that kept Kris from obsessing over the fact that he would be next to Yixing for the entire movie.
Zitao eyed them and pulling the table a couple of inches closer.
“Everyone set?” Sehun asked, taking over Kris’s remotes. “Okay, here goes.”
And Kris tried to be more aware of the movie starting up, than of Yixing beside him. He turned his head once, Yixing turning his as well and meeting his eyes and smiling, as though to tell him all was well.
Five minutes in, Joonmyun sighed. “That flower bed is beautiful.”
“It is,” Yixing agreed. “But those are all spring flowers. It's going to look ugly in the fall.”
Joonmyun leaned forward. “You're right.”
“Oh no,” Sehun murmured as Joonmyun and Yixing began to discuss just that. “We've created a monster.”
Watching Joonmyun and Yixing get into deep conversation about raised flower beds and spring blooms and the rest of them shifting, and looking at each other.
“I think this is how Joonmyun feels when we start talking about caulk and weatherizing,” Sehun said.
“Maybe.”
“Flowers have to build roots just like houses need foundations,” Joonmyun shot at them, and they all groaned.
“We should've watched something to do with the War of the Roses,” Kris joked.
“You know that war had nothing to do with roses?” Sehun asked
And Yixing laughed. “No, we don’t need wars. Just zombies.”
He nudged Yixing’s arm. “Then pay attention to the movie.”
“I could quote all the dialogue at you,” Yixing said. And proceeded to quote a line before it’d be said.
Which meant he had come to watch a movie he’d already seen before, probably more than once, unless his memory was fantastic. Maybe just because Kris had asked, and the thought had him flushing.
Joonmyun threw a napkin at Sehun. “We’ll talk after,” he promised Yixing, who laughed and settled back. Settled back, and as the movie wore on, seemed to get closer to Kris. At first he thought it was just natural shifting, but it felt like more and more weight was being pressed against Kris’s shoulder. First barely a brush, and then more of the length of their upper arms being pushed together. And when he looked, Yixing’s focus was on the movie, not even looking if he noticed Kris staring at him.
He took it, almost twenty minutes of it, before his pulse started going out of control.
“I need another drink,” Kris said. “Anyone need anything?”
There was a small chorus of answers, and Yixing eased from him as he stood. It gave him that bare minute to collect himself. He could make it. Make it without staring at Yixing’s fingers, or the way he wiggled his toes in his socks.
But he stopped still on the way back. Where he had been sitting, Zitao was, and Joonmyun had taken up a spot where Sehun had been. Sehun was on the little couch, and the only open place was beside him. He passed out drinks, avoiding Yixing’s eyes in case the disappointment would just seep out of him.
“What are you doing?” Sehun whispered, leaning into him when he’d settled. “You don't want him next to you?”
Kris hushed him, keeping his eyes on the screen.
He had no idea, thirty minutes later when Zitao started poking at an empty chip bag, that there was a plot on. Yixing offered to get more, and Zitao smiled beatifically while Kris stared hard at him.
And the second Yixing disappeared, Sehun was off the couch like a rocket, claiming Yixing’s seat.
It was a copy of his own situation, Yixing stopping short when he saw his seat had been stolen.
“Musical chairs,” Yixing murmured.
He could do nothing but tease. “We meet again.” Teasing was better than sending dirty looks at Sehun. “This is more comfortable anyway.”
But that didn’t explain why Sehun had abandoned it. All that mattered was that Yixing grinned, and that Kris, attempted at the very least, to relax. Movie, not Yixing. Yixing’s thighs, were he could see them even without trying. It helped that Yixing was into the movie, even if he knew all about it. Rapt attention, right beside him. But Yixing wasn’t the movie he was supposed to be watching. It made him think of the stories he’d heard, the moves he’d tried, to keep contact with a girlfriend.
"I hate this part," Yixing said, as a bunch of zombies seemed to rising up and battle with ghosts or eating them, he didn't know. Yixing curled forward on himself, still with an eye on the screen, and Kris, mostly without thinking reached out to pat Yixing's shoulder. It was mostly meant as a buck-up shoulder squeeze, but Yixing leaned into it immediately, getting Kris's arm to slide all the way around him.
"You've seen it more than once and still hate parts of it?" Kris asked, amused despite the fact that he felt like he'd gotten punched in the ribs as Yixing leaned into him.
"It's not this part exactly. It's what happens. Oh. There."
One of the main characters was brutally murdered with screeching screams, and Yixing wasn't watching, more with his face pressed on Kris's chest.
"I liked her," Yixing complained.
Kris couldn't have cared if every person in the cast was dying violent deaths. He was just trying to keep breathing with Yixing's head so close, and a hand bracing himself on Kris's stomach. And he didn't really dare look at his friends, fearing what he'd see. A round of thumbs-up or something, As though he didn't feel awkward enough. Though as the minutes wore on, so did the movie, and it didn't seem like Yixing was going to move. His back relaxed a fraction, allowing him to relax into Yixing against him. And it wasn't many more minutes beyond that, with screams still echoing in the room, that he realized Yixing had fallen asleep.
He wasn't sure, but it was possible that his jaw was going to break as tightly as he was clenching it. Then he wasn't moving for a totally different reason. Before, he'd been trying to keep Yixing from touching him more than necessary, for his sanity. And then, he was trying not to move so Yixing wouldn't be disturbed - which might mean Yixing moving away. Sehun would have something to say about that, he knew. It didn't mean-- It meant just what it meant. That he liked Yixing against him. He felt right there, the solid weight of a sleeping man. He wondered how it would feel in reverse, if he were resting his head on Yixing's chest. Breathing in whatever scents he wore, whatever he smelled like naturally. But it kept Kris from doing anything but staring blankly at the screen. His hand was clutched in the back of the seat, but a glance over told him he could have let his arm drop, letting his hand rest over Yixing's ribs or waist. It just had his fingers tightening further.
Yixing jolted at the sound of a door slamming in the movie, scaring Kris half to death.
"Sorry, I fell asleep," Yixing said, his voice a bit rough, head still on Kris, but beginning to move.
It was instinctual, fast and desperate, grabbing Yixing’s far shoulder and jostling him the half an inch he’d moved and back into place.
"It's okay," Kris said, reaching up to pat the hand that was resting against his stomach.
It was apparently the wrong move, because at a squeak from his right, he looked up to see Sehun covering his mouth - likely to cover the complete and utter smugness there. Not only that, but Zitao and Joonmyun were also grinning. If his glare could have killed them all, he was fairly certain it would have. He wasn't sure how Sehun had clued Zitao in on what he was trying to do, but it was obvious all three of them were somehow working together.
And Yixing, instead of fighting him, relaxed further. Murmuring something Kris couldn’t catch. And his breath caught as Yixing’s hand turned under his, catching a couple of Kris’s fingers and holding onto them. His face flamed, turning away from his friends so he could breathe.
He hadn’t felt that way since he was 16 and on his first real date - a movie - with a girl. He was glad Yixing had his fingers, and not his palm, as he could feel it becoming sweaty as his nerves shot up. Of course, at 16 he’d been hoping for, and had received, a make-out session afterward. He couldn’t find Yixing’s slightly parted lips, and lean in to meet them, because they weren’t alone.
But the thought that had him clenching his teeth together, was that he wasn’t sure he would have stopped himself if they had been.
***
It was not the most awkward thing he had ever faced, moving his arm so that Yixing could sit up and collect himself. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as it might have been, had they been alone. Or perhaps, it would have been preferable. But it was luck that the conversation picked up immediately, Joonmyun wanting to know more about Yixing’s job, and how he’d gotten into plants, and Zitao industriously starting to gather the garbage they’d accumulated during the movie.
And rather than sit beside Yixing and smolder with a part of his side that only grew cooler, he got up to help. Zitao’s secret smile did nothing to make his nerves ease. But he was at least thankful that nothing was said.
“I actually need to be getting back,” Joonmyun said, meeting them halfway back from the kitchen, grinning. “I have an early day tomorrow. It sounds like Yixing is in my direction, so I’ll give him a ride, too. It was fun! We should do this more often.”
“They just want to talk about bulbs some more,” Sehun murmured, making Zitao laugh and Joonmyun stick his tongue out at him.
It was soon, sooner an end than Kris’s head had been able to conjure, and as Joonmyun was saying goodbye to the others, Yixing stepped up to him.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Yixing said.
“Anything, to give Joonmyun someone to talk to,” Kris joked.
Yixing reached out with an arm, and for a second Kris thought he was going for a handshake, except it was wrong. And he had a man against him, hugging him. Kris’s hand came up by instinct, patting at Yixing’s lower back. He didn’t know who was around them, why, all he knew was Yixing pressed close, a low murmur from his throat as he squeezed Kris’s waist with one arm. And then quick, like a cat, Yixing leaned and kissed Kris’s cheek.
“A tip, for use of your shoulder,” Yixing said, a tease in his voice, but eyes full of something else as he backed away. Something almost shy about it, even with his smile bright.
“I didn’t know I was charging now,” Kris blustered, almost having to fist his hands in his pants to keep from either hiding them behind his back like a shamed schoolboy, or reaching out to keep Yixing close.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Yixing said, and leaned around him to talk to Sehun and Zitao. “And nice seeing you again.”
There was a chorus of goodbyes, and the door closed after Yixing and Joonmyun.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating?” Zitao said, almost pouting on the question, as though Kris had been holding back from him.
“We’re not,” Kris said, tugging down hard on the sleeves of his shirt. He wasn’t sure why he was trying to cover himself, but he stared, shocked, as Sehun laughed.
“What? We’re not.”
“So lots of guys flirt with you when they’re leaving? I know I don’t kiss you on the cheek.”
It made him want to reach up and feel his cheek, relive Yixing’s eyes just after. Some sort of shyness there, some kind of- He didn’t know what it was, and seeing it as invitation just made him want to scowl.
“Yixing is just…a different kind of guy.”
“Sure, a guy who wants to go out with you. He keeps agreeing to meet you, volunteers work for you, comes to help you move, eats with you. Probably more things I don’t know. Then tonight, he falls asleep on you, and kisses you?”
His cheek. Just his cheek. He rubbed the heel of his hand over his heart, hoping it’d help it settle, or help get air into his lungs, something.
“I’ve never dated a man,” Kris said, finally choosing the safest tactic. Denial. “We’re friends.”
“Then you didn’t see him smile when you grabbed him and kept him from moving away from you. You let him- Fuck, are you playing with him? I thought you were straight, too, until the way you started acting around him.”
Zitao, serious faced and watching them like a tennis match, piped up. “Maybe Kris isn’t sure what he wants yet.”
“Yeah, but you don’t just ask a guy out on what seems like a bunch of pre-dates, and invite him to cuddle on you and get his hopes up, and then squash him.”
“Kris wouldn’t intentionally hurt Yixing,” Zitao argued. “It’s obvious Kris likes him.”
Sehun shook his head, pinning Kris with a stare that seemed far too old for him. “So if he showed up with a bottle of wine, asked you out, and tried to kiss you, you’d shove him off and tell him you only date girls?”
His eyes closed, picturing Yixing in front of him. Hand around Yixing’s on the wine bottle’s neck, holding steady as Yixing lifted himself onto his toes. And Kris shook his head, banishing the thought, and biting his lip to try and abolish even the imagination of what Yixing’s mouth would feel like. He was about to defend himself when he saw Sehun’s bemused smile.
“You really are into him. So you’d accept him?”
“It’s Yixing,” Kris said, as though that explained everything. It did, and it didn’t. Not even to him.
“Then talk to him. Tell him, if you’re confused, or if you want to try going out or something. But he’s into you, I’m pretty sure of that. I think it’d help him to know, maybe to prepare himself if you decide this isn’t for you.”
Kris stared at the orchid, purely white and reflecting the light of the TV. Pulling off petals wouldn’t give him answer of “he likes me/he likes me not.”
It was easier to think that Yixing didn’t care, that he saw Kris as only a new friend. It’d make it easier to shove the fading dreams to the back, tell himself it was just some kind of passing attraction that was out of the norm.
When he searched inside, wondering if the thought of kissing Yixing, touching him, stripping him, brought up any negative feelings, he had to swallow down desire.
But most telling was when he pictured someone else in his place, Yixing pressing his mouth against some other man’s, smiling at him, wrapping an arm around some stranger’s waist.
He’d nearly broken his toothbrush.
***
It became a standoff in his head. One day of no contact after the movie became two, became three. Yixing texted him the third day, and Kris forced himself to wait until the next morning to respond. It hadn’t been an invitation, or anything urgent. Just a picture of a broken flower pot with its contents spilling out onto the gravel.
“Oops,” the message read.
He laughed a little when he got it, and the rush through him just seeing Yixing’s name had been unavoidable to notice.
It wasn’t that he was trying to avoid being too eager. It was almost a test in a way. To see if anything changed the longer he was away. If absence proved the fondness or proved he was over-thinking. There were no dreams to follow him, only thoughts of Yixing as he pressed his face into his pillow. Remembering the night Yixing had massaged his back. Or the way his collarbones had looked in the restaurant. Or the serious way he sometimes met Kris’s eyes, and when that expression melted into amusement.
Kris smiled into his pillow, just imagining it.
And he texted Yixing back, to tell him to think of the plants and not break any more of their homes.
“Will you make them a new one? ^^” Yixing texted back that afternoon, the tease evident.
And he didn’t want that time. “I’ll think about it,” he replied.
He didn’t hear from Yixing over the weekend. A fact emphasized by Sehun’s parting words as they finished up for the night.
“You meeting up with Yixing soon?” Sehun asked.
His mouth thinned as he shook his head. And instead of being tempted to swing by the nursery, or send a text, he busied himself in his apartment, doing errands, checking up on the books for the business. Payroll was coming up. Not the part of owning his own business he enjoyed, all the little things. But being his own boss, that he liked very well.
Building something for someone wasn’t as simple as just drawing up plans, and doing it. He had to estimate labor, how many guys, how many hours. How much material. If he didn’t have the equipment, what he had to rent. Insurance payments. Sehun had become more and more savvy over the two years he’d been working with him, starting as just a summer job, and onto full time when Sehun realized it was something he not only enjoyed, but was something he was good at. After Kris estimated the materials, Sehun could look at the information and estimate man hours, like it was something gut-deep. Instinct. It could be taught, he’d learned it, but instinct was something else. And he’d come to trust Sehun’s, double-checking his own calculations. It could mean the difference between a job where they - he, because his guys got paid no matter what - didn’t make squat, or a job where everyone got paid, and everyone was happy. There were a few times he’d had to appeal to the client that they were going over, and usually it was something beyond his control, like rotten boards he could have had no way of knowing were bad. Those situations were different. And the weather fucked with them now and again. No one liked to see storm clouds boiling as they were putting on a roof.
He didn’t know what to make of Sehun’s expression when they met up early Monday morning.
“Hope you didn’t bring a big lunch, because I planned something,” Sehun said, leaving him to go finish framing for some concrete they were having delivered the next day.
Lunch. He put it out of his head, because he had enough to do just coordinating drywall installation, and making sure he made off with one of the nail guns he needed to replace so no one nailed a hand with it or worse.
He’d been hauling rafters and shoving them up to the men for half an hour, when Sehun’s whistle signaled it was lunch time. It made him hiss through his teeth, because they were just a few boards short, but he got three simultaneous looks begging pity on them.
“We’ll finish up after,” Kris said, sighing, and waited for them to come down off the ladders so they could walk to the back of the truck where everyone usually stashed their food.
Only, instead of a bunch of lunch sacks, there was a box, and a grinning Sehun.
And Yixing.
“Come on, guys,” Sehun said, waving everyone closer. “Yixing picked up lunch boxes for us. A treat to start the week.”
And on Sehun’s dime, apparently, since Kris hadn’t hadn’t given him the company credit card. Or he was going to make sure it’d been on Sehun’s dime, and not Yixing’s.
“Hey,” he said, stepping up to Yixing and effectively blocking him from the chorus of thankful men. “This is a surprise.”
“Sehun organized this,” Yixing said, smiling at where Sehun was proudly being a hero. “He asked me to pick them up and bring them by, so we were able to find a time that worked.”
“Asked you, huh? Here, walk with me. I’ll show you the site.”
It got them some privacy, and he wasn’t sure what else. He just knew he was aware that he was sweating, and that Yixing wore a red shirt and his white hoodie again and looked fresh and clean. Like if he just leaned close enough, Yixing would smell like a morning after rain. But he tore his eyes from Yixing’s jawline, as Yixing spoke.
“Yeah, Sehun caught me at the nursery this weekend,” Yixing said. “Said it’d be a nice surprise for everyone. And for you. But… You’re missing lunch.”
“I’m the boss. I can take a few minutes,” Kris said, and made Yixing laugh. “It won’t hurt to give them a little extra time. We’ve been working hard today.”
“I can see that. Who could pass up sweaty men in their natural environment?” Yixing teased.
Kris kept himself from reaching up to scratch where his undershirt sagged. It wasn’t particularly hot, but hauling wood around would make anyone sweat.
“You’ve seen me at work, so I guess it’s only fair,” Yixing said, and Kris’s eyes lingered at his cheeks, the contours and dips of them. “But this isn’t exactly something I can help you out with this time.”
“No, not without a lot of paperwork,” Kris agreed. “But we’re well underway. Concrete tomorrow, new roof here where we were working. We’ll have this finished, and shingled by tomorrow.”
“It’s amazing,” Yixing mused. “Actually, it makes me wonder what we’ll be using to build things in twenty years.”
Kris chuckled, and patted a two by four. “Hopefully nothing that requires too steep a learning curve. I think I finally got this nail thing down.”
“Do you ever want to build something for yourself?”
“Yeah,” Kris said, staring at the framework they’d already laid. “Something from the foundation up, my own design. Picking out every piece of wood would have meaning. The crew would hate me.”
“No, they’d know they’re doing it for you. I’m sure they’re always careful, but it’s different when it’s someone you know. Joonmyun would do your garden?”
“He probably has a design started already. You’ll help me pick out the plants?”
The way Yixing smiled at him was more emotion than it was vision. The tightening at the corners of his mouth, the dimple. The way the midday light caught his eyes. As though Kris had just said something that made him incredibly happy, and that was the only way to express it. It was a moment he couldn’t look away from, the itch in his head as he grinned back. Maybe it was something he shouldn’t have done. Probably something he shouldn’t have said, but it felt right.
And for a moment, it almost seemed like Yixing wanted to say something. Some pause, some held breath. Something Kris wasn’t sure he should anticipate or run from, when Yixing looked at him like that. But Yixing turned his head, and it fell flat and left him unsatisfied.
“I should go, so you can eat and relax,” Yixing said.
“Oh. Right, and you have work today? I can walk with you out front.”
Yixing looked back to him, the laugh bubbling. “I can make it to the road safely, don’t worry. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah. And thanks. For Sehun, too.”
Yixing patted his arm, and waved at everyone enjoying their lunch before disappearing around the corner. And Kris had to stop himself from running after, hoping for another parting hug, another of those secretive smiles that spoke to Kris alone.
Instead, he almost walked into Sehun. Sehun, who was lucky he was still rattled by Yixing, wondering what Yixing had been trying to say, or he’d have been bitching at him for meddling.
“Had you talked to him since last weekend?” Sehun asked.
“We texted a couple of times.”
“But not going out to eat or making excuses to go see him, like you were. You were avoiding him. So call him, take him out as thanks for bringing lunch. Or just talk to him on the phone.”
Sehun seemed a bit irritated as he walked off to reclaim his lunch.
The problem was, setting up another meeting with Yixing, just talking to Yixing casually, wasn’t going to help him.
He wasn’t avoiding Yixing because he didn’t want to be swayed to his decision.
He was avoiding acting on the decision it seemed he’d already made.
***
Will you go out with me?
It seemed so simple. Such a simple, natural step. Kris parked in front of the nursery the night he knew Yixing was closing up. He knew, because he’d texted like a coward, somehow fishing for the information and getting it in a short, but sweet text exchange.
He’d made Yixing a gift, even. It seemed strange, but it was hiding in his car for after. Scraps of collected lumber, a little leftover paint. The things Yixing made him think of, the things he did because of Yixing. He’d never stepped foot so many times into a nursery in his life. Plants growing, the stink of insecticides, they made him think of Yixing.
So did his phone, and his bed, and his passenger seat. So did sitting alone and watching TV and wishing Yixing was there.
He got out of his car, when he saw movement, and had Yixing looking around in alarm.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No! I just thought you might be a robber,” Yixing said, laughing and patting his chest in relief. His chest, not in a nursery uniform, but street clothes, Kris saw as he got closer and Yixing turned fully to him. A dark jacket, finely cut, and slim, straight jeans. The shirt he wore shimmered almost silver, and it took Kris’s breath even as his heart took off. He had no idea what he was doing. But he knew he wanted to be right there.
“You’re going out,” Kris said, more than asked.
“I was…meeting a friend,” Yixing said.
Well, that was an out. Not one he’d been wanting. “I’m sorry. This isn’t a good time then. I don’t want you to have to keep her waiting.”
“Him,” Yixing called, before Kris could do more than shrug. “Keep him waiting. But it’s fine. You wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
Watching Yixing finish locking up gave Kris time to compose his face, to take a breath, something. Before his heart exploded from racing too fast.
“Just to talk,” Kris said. He hadn’t been prepared to explain himself, that much was certain. Sure, he’d said it in his head a hundred times, but actually saying the words was harder. He knew that there weren’t any kind of magic words, no special order of sentences that would cause Yixing to accept him, or even consider it. But he dwelled on that, hoping he’d have some insight.
He could almost see Sehun rolling his eyes, telling him to just be himself. But that was harder when he wasn’t sure if who he was was good enough. “If you want it, go for it,” Sehun had told him when he’d left work. And if he didn’t, back off, was the implication Kris had gotten. The one thing he couldn’t do was tell Yixing how hard he’d fought not to want it. He was pretty sure that had never gone well. He wasn’t going to be Mr. Darcy, digging himself a hole.
“It’s good to see you,” Yixing said. “I know things have been busy for you.”
“They have. We’re finishing up the job tomorrow, so it’s right on schedule.”
He looked down to see Yixing rubbing his thumb over his fingers. A nervous habit, perhaps, as much as the fists Kris had clenched at his sides.
“How about I drive you where you’re going?” Kris offered.
Yixing paused a moment, before nodding, and locking up the door. At least they could relax, in the car. He didn’t even put his key in right away, and Yixing didn’t reach for his seatbelt. So perhaps Yixing knew as well.
“I had a couple of things to talk to you about. But I brought you a gift, actually.”
“Oh?
Kris snagged the box from the back seat, hauling it up between them. He hadn’t even thought to wrap it, just a plain cardboard box. Yixing smiled up at him, like a child about to tear into a present. And Kris watched his face as he lifted the flaps, and then lifted out what was inside.
It wasn’t pretty, more a piece of modern art than anything. He’d collected pieces of scrap wood, bits cut off the ends, or ripped scraps, or pieces from renovations. A little square of leftover plywood was the base, and he’d built off of that, nailing and screwing bits of wood to form a square flower pot. A little inverted pyramid almost, with uneven protrusions. But he’d gotten a very lovely shade of blue spray paint, and shot it first with that, and then a glossy top coat. It gleamed like the world’s most ugly sapphire,
“I had some scraps laying around,” Kris explained. “You did ask if I’d make a home for a flower, right?”
Yixing’s mouth dropped open, a hic of amusement leaving him as he turned the flower pot around.
“It’s not exactly waterproof,” Kris said, touching the edge of it. “But you have pot liners or something?”
“Yes,” Yixing said, his lips trembling. “It’s very…unique. Thank you. I’ll have to pick out…just the right flower for this.”
Kris raised an eyebrow. “Are you teasing.”
“I’m not. I’m… Kind of. But no, I’ve never seen anything like this.”
And Kris held his breath, as Yixing spotted the small piece of white paper inside the flower pot. Again Yixing glanced up at him, curious. Maybe he thought it was some discarded receipt or something. But it was more than that. It was a question.
“Before you open that, I have kind of an odd story to tell you. It’s going to sound a little weird, so…”
“All right?” Yixing said, eyes darting to Kris’s curiously.
Kris shifted, staring at his hands and trying to lay it out logically. As logically as it could be, anyway. He took several breaths. For some reason, even if it sounded insane, he needed Yixing to know about the dreams. They couldn’t be a secret between them, especially not if there was any truth to them. His biggest question was if Yixing might have had dreams like his as well. If they’d both been feeling a little scared, and hopeful, and wary that the other would think them insane.
“Before we met, I had dreams about a woman named Yixing. It felt like it had been a very long time ago. We were married, and she died. And in those dreams, she became…you as you are now. Told me that you were waiting. It felt like more than a dream. Like it had been real, like it was some kind of past life.”
Yixing frowned. “So you dreamed that I was your reincarnated...wife?”
And Kris wasn’t surprised that Yixing was staring at him as though he’d gone a little crazy. How they had gotten from gifts, to discussing dreams. Perhaps if Yixing knew the full extent of it, his interest would be replaced with something far different. He stared at Yixing’s hands, balled up on top of his thighs, and wanted to put his hands over them.
“She died giving birth to our child. The child died, too. But she bled to death. So much blood. That’s why I reacted the way I did when you scraped yourself.”
He let Yixing absorb that, fingers idly touching the skin of his arm where he’d been hurt. “But I wasn’t going to die from a cut.”
“No, I know that. But after that, I would dream of you. Sometimes strange, almost premonition dreams. I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Yixing’s lips twisted, but not in humor. “To see if you could figure those out?”
When it was put that way, it sounded wrong. “No.” Kris raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing for a moment and hoping to figure out what to say. “I thought I was going crazy. Have you ever had any dreams like that?”
“No,” Yixing said softly. “So maybe your past life theory is wrong.”
Kris shook his head, disappointment mingled with fear that Yixing would misunderstand. They could’ve been laughing about it together, and instead he was scrambling. “And that’s okay. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had dreams too. I just needed to know in case- The paper will explain.”
Yixing’s mouth was set and firm, but he unfolded the paper that had been in the flower pot, and Kris watched as he read the words Kris had written.
“Will you go out with me?”
Apparently it could be that simple.
His eyes darted between Yixing’s hands, and face. He wanted to see Yixing smile. To realize the rest of the crap didn’t matter, because Kris wasn’t going to let it. He finally was going to let it go. If the dreams were real, or not real, shared, he didn’t care. He just wanted a chance with Yixing.
“That’s what I came here for tonight,” Kris told him. Yixing turned his head to look at him, and it made Kris’s words run dry.
“I know you'd dated women,” Yixing said slowly. “But the way Sehun seemed to encourage and the way you…”
Sehun would have told Kris that the dreams were all of his repressed feelings trying to whack him over the head, or told him to lay off the alcohol at night. Either way it would’ve led back to him needing to make a decision about Yixing.
“I’ve never dated a man before,” Kris admitted. “I just wanted you to know everything.”
“I’m really flattered,” Yixing started, the paper still tightly gripped between his fingers. “But-“
It felt like his brain stuttered. “Yixing-”
“You were fighting this, weren’t you? No wonder you started to pull away. Oh, I'm stupid.”
Yixing had noticed him trying to make distance. Testing himself had also had repercussions for Yixing.
“Because I didn’t just want to be your friend,” Kris clarified. “I had to be sure.”
They were two men and a ridiculous flower pot, and Yixing looked like he’d been hit, shaking his head every few seconds as though to clear it.
“I think I need time to think,” Yixing said
“Of course, but-“
Yixing opened the door, half stepping out of the car and Kris fumbled for his own side before Yixing held out a hand to stop him. They stared at each other through the overhead light. “I can’t tell you if your dreams were real, and I wish… I wish I had memories to match them, but you might realize you’re glad I don’t. Maybe I didn’t need them to fall for you.”
Yixing shook his head, said goodnight, and closed the door before disappearing back in through the nursery gates with the box from Kris still in his arms.
For the first time Kris wasn’t leaning to get him back, but instead horrified on his own side of the car.
Don’t leave. He’d screamed it in his dreams.
I didn’t need them to fall for you.
Everything was at his fingertips. Proof of Yixing’s feelings. Proof that Sehun had been right, that his fears had been unfounded. Proof that he could have been driving with Yixing to his apartment right then. As a couple.
Kris started his car with a numb hand. Backed out, wondering where things had gone so wrong. He’d known telling Yixing about the dreams would be risky. He couldn’t stay. But until he found the words for Yixing, he couldn’t sit still either.
He pulled back out onto the street. Taking his time back to his apartment might clear his head, and maybe put words in there instead. He couldn’t just call Yixing and tell Yixing he had something to say without actually having something to say for the second time in one night.
Yixing was going to ask him why he’d made his decision.
He could tell Yixing that. All he had to say that he’d fucked up, that all he wanted was for Yixing to give him a chance. Take him on a date. Hold his hand. He wanted to tell Yixing that the dreams had had nothing to do with why Kris had fallen for him. The urging of his friends had nothing to do with it. He was choosing to-
He saw the lights of the car that wasn’t stopping, caught between the decision to stop or go.
But it was too late.
***
Sirens.
One step.
Two.
The edge of a red car.
There were lots of red cars.
But not that red. Not those lines.
Not with a ding on the trunk that Yixing had run his fingers over more than once.
A car that was crumpled and smashed.
The license plate number.
Kris.
His dread weighed him down and pushed him forward.
He ran and could not run fast enough.
And he didn’t want to get there, didn’t want to know.
What if…
What if…
***