(DAY 6: #96) THE PRICE OF FALLING (5/6)

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Yixing rarely spends afternoons outside the hospital-not counting the short walks he takes regularly takes with Yifan now-but Luhan had whined on the phone about Yixing only ever spending time with his boyfriend and neglecting his friend in the progress for so long that Yixing had agreed to meet the other in a small café in the city. It’s a welcome change to the same white hallways all day, Yixing has to admit. He can’t stop his mind from wandering back to Yifan though, wondering how the other is doing. The elder has been cooped up at the hospital for months, with no change of scenery.

Luhan seems to be in a good mood when Yixing meets him, but then again he has rarely seen the other not in a good mood. They spend the whole afternoon sitting together and talking over cups of hot tea (“I can’t drink any coffee that’s not been made by Minseok anymore.”). The time goes by quicker than Yixing would have thought, even despite the fact that he spends approximately half the time blushing in embarrasment when Luhan questions him about his and Yifan’s relationship. He’s surprised when it’s Luhan who jumps up in panic after looking at his clock, announcing that they have to head back to the hospital because he promised Minseok he would pick him up from work.

So they walk back together, and Yixing wonders if he’s only imagining the grins that Luhan seems to barely be able to suppress. He arches a questioning eyebrow at the elder when they pass the hospital’s entrance doors, but Luhan simply waives his concerns aside. The giggle he lets out while doing so doesn’t exactly make him more trustworthy.

When they part at the nursing station with a hug, Luhan leans in to whisper into his ear, “Let him get some, he went to great lengths for today.”

Yixing wants to ask Luhan what the heck the elder is trying to tell him, but before he can even open his mouth Luhan has already gripped Minseok’s arm and dragged the nurse away with him. For a moment the healer is left dumbfounded, standing in the middle of the hallway trying to make sense of his friend’s parting message. Him must be Yifan-because whom else would Yixing possibly allow to “get some”-but it’s the second part that doesn’t make any sense.

He wracks his brain, trying to remember whether anything special has been planned for the day that he forgot about, but draws a blank. Figuring that it must have been Luhan’s overzealousness (and perhaps one too many cups of green tea-the elder seemed to forget that tea contained caffeine as well), Yixing decides to not pay the honey-blond too much mind.

But when he enters Yifan’s room, he finds it deserted, making him stop in his tracks. His face pulls into a contemplative frown, and the feeling that something is going on solidifies. When he looks at their other usual meet-up places, just to find them empty as well, he can’t help the faint feeling of fear creeping into his bones. His only consolation is that Luhan apparently knows whatever the reason for Yifan’s disappearance is, and that he seems to be excited and not worried about it.

“Yixing? You’re still here?” Jongdae asks as he passes by the healer in the hallway. Going by his casual clothes the nurse is about to head home.

When he sees Yixing’s questioning gaze, a look of understanding hushes through his eyes, and his lips pull into a grin. “Ah, I see, Junmyeon must have forgotten to escort you. Don’t worry, I’ll take you, just follow me.”

“Excuse me, but what exactly is going on?” the elder asks as he falls into step beside Jongdae.

The nurse throws him a side-ways glance and grins again. “It’s a surprise. I mean, where would the fun be, otherwise?”

Even furrowing his eyebrows and whining for the other to stop being all secretive doesn’t get Jongdae to budge. They go all the way down in the direction of the staff room, but when Yixing is about to protest that he already looked there, Jongdae just shushes him and continues further down the hallway.

He stops in front of a door behind which the small, staff-member only kitchen is located. Yixing doesn’t think he’s ever been inside because he usually ate in the cafeteria or brought lunch from home, but he still knows that the room exists. “I made sure that you’re the only one on duty tonight, so you’ll have the hospital all to yourselves,” Jongdae informs him with a suggestive smile, before winking at him cheekily and adding, “Just the way you like it, of course. Have fun tonight.”

And just like Luhan, the younger doesn’t wait for Yixing’s answer. Within seconds he knocks on the door, flashes the brunette a thumbs up, and quickly dashes away, leaving a flustered Yixing behind. The doctor is used to being teased about his relationship with Yifan by his friends, and they more often than not seem to be intent on making inappropriate comment, but there’s something about their common certainty that he will get laid that night-or rather be the one to give the laying, so to speak-that is frankly new.

The brunette doesn’t get the chance to contemplate for long however, because only seconds after Jongdae’s departure the door is opened, but only so far that Yifan can peek his head out. When he spots Yixing, a smile adorns his feature and he steps out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him until only a tiny slit of the inside remains visible.

“Hey,” Yifan greets, hair slightly disheveled, and being a little breathless, small drops of sweat on his forehead glistening in the glaring light of the hospital hallway.

And yet Yixing’s breath catches at the sight of his boyfriend. The other is wearing clothes Yixing’s never seen on him before, but damn does Yifan look good in a plain white dress shirt and black pants. His hair, albeit ruffled, still retains the general style it was put into, and Yixing is suddenly acutely aware of his own worn out jeans and the black tank top he had blindly reached for in the cupboard in Yifan’s room that morning.

“Hey,” he answers with no eloquence whatsoever, and accepts the small hello kiss Yifan presses onto his lips, still dumbfounded. “I-” Looking Yifan up and down before casting his eyes to his own clothing, the only sentence he comes up with is. “I have no idea what’s going on but I think I’m severely underdressed.”

Yifan chuckles in response, before taking Yixing’s hand in his, lifting it up to place a gentle kiss on its back. “You look handsome, no need to worry. I just wanted to go the extra mile, so I had Junmyeon get me these clothes. How was your afternoon with Luhan?”

Startled by pretty much everything-the sight of Yifan looking so exceptionally dashing, his cheesily affectionate gestures, and the fact that he asked about how his meet up with Luhan went instead of finally explaining what’s up-Yixing simply answers with, “It was good. We talked a lot.”

“That’s great,” the elder replies, and underneath the smiles Yixing discovers a hint of nervousness that almost gives his expression a sheepish edge.

It’s cute, Yixing thinks, even without knowing what Yifan has planned to make him so nervous because he has been able to gather at least this much by then: Yifan must have planned something for the two of them, like some sort of special date.

“Can you close your eyes?”

Yixing does as he’s told. He hears the door opening, then there is a tug on his hand and he follows the lead. Stepping into the room he’s immediately assaulted by a plethora of fragrances, confirming his suspicions about why they had met up in front of the kitchen out of all places. Yifan leads him a bit into the room, before stopping and telling him to open his eyes.

He’s greeted by the sight of a table, laid with plates and cutlery and candles and flowers for decoration and Yixing’s breath gets caught in his throat for a second time that night. Turning to the taller with his mouth hanging open with an expression somewhere between disbelief and awe, he asks Yifan what this is all about.

“Well, I cooked dinner for you,” the blond shyly explains, gesturing a little towards the pots and pans on the stove

“But why?” Yixing hopes the question doesn’t come out impolite, and he wonders whether he shouldn’t have thanked the other first for the effort, but he simply can’t help himself. His mouth is quicker than his brain too often when he’s around Yifan, he’s come to realize.

“You don’t know what day it is today, right?” the elder asks, but he doesn’t sound accusing at all. That still doesn’t stop Yixing from being a bit hesitant when he shakes his head.

“It’s been exactly a month since we started dating,” Yifan explains, and Yixing’s eyes immediately widen, almost comically so.

Shit. Is the first thing that shoots through his mind when he realizes that he hasn’t remembered the date at all. “I’m so sorry Yifan, I forgot.”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to worry,” the blond sounds as if he truly doesn’t mind, but Yixing still can’t help feeling guilty.

“But I don’t have anything for you…,” Yixing lets the words trail off as he wracks his mind whether there’s something he can still come up with on the spot, but he draws a blank.

“No, no, no, please don’t worry about it,” Yifan waves his hands in front of his body frantically, as if attempting to physically disperse the smaller’s concerns, before reaching out to take both of the brunette’s hands in his. “We never talked about whether we would celebrate such anniversaries, but I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to express my gratitude.”

Yifan’s eyes searched for Yixing’s before he continued speaking, holding the other’s gaze. “Thank you for all the things you put up with when it comes to me. I just want to repay you somehow, so I had Luhan distract you while I cooked a little something for you. It’s really not much, and I’m not that good of a cook, but do I get points for having tried at least?”

A slight blush is dusting the taller’s cheeks as he smiles insecurely, and Yixing thinks he’s never seen a more adorable sight. Since the words die in his throat, he leans up to answer Yifan with a kiss, and when he pulls back he has regained his voice. “You don’t have to repay me for anything, or feel as if you need to prove your gratitude.”

“I know,” Yifan replies, and this time his smile looks a lot more relaxed, as if suddenly he doesn’t worry about the taste of his food or Yixing’s reaction or anything else anymore. “But I want to. So just accept it and enjoy.”

Like hell the younger will refuse that request. He lets himself be led to the table by Yifan, and he can’t properly contain a surprised giggle from escaping him when the elder pulls out his chair for Yixing to have a seat, in the best gentlemanly manner.

He is served multiple courses, four in total to be exact, starting out with a soup, followed by a salad and finally a plate of Fettucine Alfredo.

The food is far from being haute-cuisine, but Yixing doesn’t care the least bit. It’s still delicious for all its simplicity, and the younger spends half the evening still in disbelief at the fact that Yifan prepared something like this.

They are sitting in the small kitchen of the hospital, but with the candlelight the only source of illumination at one point, the rest of the room falls into darkness outside of their little circle of light, and Yixing feels as if they very well might have been at some restaurant, on a one-month-anniversary date like any ordinary couple.

Yixing enjoys himself a lot, talking with Yifan about all sorts of inconsequential topics, or marveling at the food (he might be losing himself a bit in exaggeration when he sees how easily flustered Yifan gets at compliments about his cooking). Their plates are empty after the main course, and the conversation has lulled down to a comfortable silence, their hands joined atop the table, when Yifan’s eyes suddenly start darting around the room.

Yixing gives the other’s fingers a gentle squeeze, lifting a questioning eyebrow once he catches the elder’s attention. In response Yifan heaves a little sigh, and gives returns the squeeze before retracting his hand an sitting up straight. Something in the air has changed, Yixing can tell that Yifan is about to approach a serious topic.

A part of him is reluctant, almost afraid concerning what the other could possibly want to get at. He’s felt as if he’s in some kind of bubble for the evening, a bubble in which only he and Yifan exist and the outside world isn’t present.

“I know you’ve been wondering about what happened. Why I was burnt.” The elder looks fidgety, as if he’s forcing himself to keep going.

It’s the truth, Yixing has wanted to ask Yifan about his past, has wondered what left the other male in such a horrible state as he was in when Luhan found him out in the fields. But he knows that Yifan has many demons to face at night, and Yixing can’t stand the idea of being the one to force him to confront them in the daylight as well, so he chose to stay silent.

It’s the reason why his eyes widen now in shock, and holds his hands up as the gesture could prevent the elder form speaking. “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me. I understand if that’s something you don’t want to revisit.”

“Thanks, Xing,” Yifan looks grateful, and the affectionate nickname makes Yixing’s heart skip a beat and his cheeks burn, very much the way it always does. “I appreciate it that you’re not forcing me to talk. I appreciate it greatly. But you’re my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for a month and you've been taking care of me for much longer than that. I believe you have a right to know.”

At the resolution in Yifan’s voice, belying all the uncertainty in his posture, Yixing simply lets his hands sink down to rest on his thighs, before nodding to signal to the other that he’s listening.

“So, where do I start… I guess it’s a pretty clichéd story after all. And not all that interesting,” Yifan starts, and when the elder’s hands clench and unclench in nervousness on the table top, Yixing reaches out one of his own to hold Yifan’s, hoping to calm the other a little. Confronting his past mustn’t be easy for the blond, otherwise he wouldn’t have avoided talking about it for so long, so Yixing hopes to make this as easy as possible for the other. The gesture earns him a grateful smile.

“Who is responsible for your injury?” the younger asks in a quiet voice, reasoning that it might be helpful to give Yifan a starting point instead of leaving him floating.

The elder visibly struggles to find the right words to start off, looking contemplative, before he slowly starts talking. “The boss of the gang I used to be part of.”

Yixing keeps his expression open, inviting Yifan to keep talking, no hint of surprise making it to the surface. He’s had a lot of time to imagine all kind of scenarios, so he doesn’t think anything Yifan tells him could possibly shock him.

The elder seems to relax a little when he doesn’t see any sign of rejection, of Yixing recoiling from where he’s touching Yifan, so he continues. “I could tell you the name of the gang, but it wouldn’t make any difference, really. All the gangs composed of power wielders are about the same, I guess. They’re all despicable.” There’s such a strong note of disdain in the elder’s voice that Yixing automatically tightens his hold, a reaction to sensing Yifan’s distress and wanting to bring the other back from the unpleasant memories.

“It all started when I was a teenager, perhaps around 14 years old. I got involved with the wrong people, and one thing somehow led to another. I really don’t want to get into the details because it’s too embarrassing. Let’s just say that I was young, naïve, and didn’t realize what I was getting myself into until I was already tangled up too bad to be able to simply escape.

“But I also couldn’t simply let things go on like that. At one point I knew I needed to get away, or one day I’d be the next one they killed.”

The elder has a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s seeing the scene from back then and not Yixing and the hospital’s kitchen. A humorless smile hushed over his face as his eyes refocused on the smaller, and he shrugged his shoulder as if to indicate his wounds. “I mean, not as if they didn’t try to kill me in the end either way. Honestly, to this day I’m not quite sure how I made it out of there alive. Because once you’re in, they obviously won’t let you get out just like that. You join such a gang for life, no matter how long or short it might be.

“The boss was-is, most likely, a fire wielder. They somehow found out about me wanting to escape, but they were a second too late to catch me. Luck is probably the only reason why I’m still alive. He hit me with his fire-badly, as you know, but I was still able to get away somehow. To be honest, I expected them to come looking for me, to finish their job, but I guess they reasoned I wasn’t worth it anymore, or that I wouldn’t make it far enough either way with these wounds.

“I probably wouldn’t have, to be honest, if I had decided to go in any other direction. But against all odds I flew and flew, adrenaline allowing me to ignore the wounds. I flew, but at one point… my powers…”

It seems almost shocking to Yixing, after everything Yifan must have gone through during his teenager years and his time as a young adult; it shocks him that this is the point where he has to hesitate, that causes him to break. But after everything, after all the time Yixing has spent with Yifan, the time he spent pouring over his books and learning what can, he understands. This wound is deeper, omnipresent, and affects Yifan more than the memories of a past gone by that could possibly haunt him.

“I lost them in full flight, and I didn’t notice early enough to make it to the ground safely,” the elder forces the words out nonetheless, and Yixing doesn’t try to stop him this time, doesn’t tell him that it’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk about it. Yifan looks as if he needs to talk about it.

“It was another lucky coincidence, a miracle, really, that Luhan found me this quickly,” Yifan looks up from their joined hands, his grey eyes stormy with the whirlwind of emotions that are rushing through them. Yixing’s brain distantly takes note of how nice they look with the candlelight dancing over them, but the small smile that grazes Yifan’s lips draws Yixing’s attention to it more.

“It was a miracle that he found and brought me to this hospital. And that you were here. That might have been the biggest miracle, and I owe you my life on so many levels, from healing my wounds to keeping me going until this day.”

Yixing only realizes that he’s gotten up from his chair when the sound of chair legs scratching across the floor registers with him. Yifan looks up at him with a small smile, a questioning expression on his features, but when Yixing rounds the table he readily scoots back from the table a little to face the younger properly.

Without asking for permission the healer sits down on Yifan’s lap, wrapping his arms tightly around the other and drawing his head against Yixing’s chest. His hands grip the fabric at the back of Yifan’s pristine white shirt, not caring in the least if he’s wrinkling it. A slightly apologetic sounding, muffled laugh resounds from somewhere near his collarbone. “I’m sorry, did I ruin the mood of the evening?” Yifan asks, but his hands fist into Yixing’s shirt, welcoming the comfort the younger is offering.

Yixing shakes his head slightly, even though Yifan can’t see like this. “No, you didn’t,” he whispers even if technically he did. But Yixing couldn’t care less about the mood they had built up during the evening, Yifan laid his heart out for the younger, and Yixing values that more than anything the other prepared for the night.

He pulls away enough to press soft kisses from Yifan’s jawbone all the way down his neck, moving on to his clothed shoulders. Yifan tilts his head in invitations, his hands falling to the smaller’s waist. For a while they sit there like that, the elder making small sounds of approval while Yixing mouths at his skin. Only when Yixing starts nibbling at a spot on Yifan’s neck and the elder’s soft sighs start turning into low moans does the elder push him away gently.

“Yixing,” Yifan’s voice is breathless, and that fact combined with the slightly glassy look in his eyes makes Yixing want to dive down to claim the other’s lips immediately. He doesn’t though, because Yifan continues in a low voice. “As much as I like where this is heading, we still have a dessert, and it’d be a shame if it’d go bad.”

How about you be my dessert and I can be yours? Yixing is tempted to let the words slip out, but Yifan put so much effort into their dinner, that it really would be a shame. We still have all night.

So Yixing lets his hands glide down Yifan’s arms, and kisses him on the lips firmly, letting his tongue lick along Yifan’s bottom lip, before he pulls back. “Okay, let’s have that dessert,” He says, trying to pour all the emotions he’s feeling into his smile, before giving it a mischievous edge. “Before we move on to the second dessert.”

With that he’s out of Yifan’s lap and walking back to his own chair, enjoying how Yifan has to gulp visibly once to compose himself, before his lips stretch into a silly grin. “Sounds nice,” the elder replies, and gets up to arrange the dessert he prepared.

They fall back into mindless chatter surprisingly easy, over slices of chocolate cake and the light of the candles. And Yixing is back inside their bubble, where everything that the candles don’t illuminate doesn’t exist. It’s a warm place, one where the both of them are just by themselves.

Yixing looks at Yifan, the smell of the food he has cooked-just for Yixing-still lingering in the air, their hands clasped together on the table top and Yixing doesn’t care how cliché that might be and a fond smile on the taller’s lips. Yixing feels so in love that his heart is breaking because a small part of his mind reminds him that this is just a moment, a moment that will not last forever no matter how desperately he wishes it would.

Their bubble is bound to burst, but Yixing doesn’t allow it to burst just yet.

Later that night it’s Yixing who drags the elder back to his room, eager for them to get to the “second dessert.” It’s lust that’s installing the urgency of his motions, that has himself press against Yifan as soon as they make it past the door frame, but it’s also the overwhelming need to be as close as possible to the taller.

Yixing winds one hand into Yifan’s hair and tiptoes to catch the elder’s lips in a kiss, his other hand stroking up from his chest, over his ribs and around Yifan’s body up to his shoulder blades. The blond immediately accommodates him by bending down a little, while at the same time securing Yixing’s position with arms wrapped around the smaller’s waist. He lets out a surprised noise when Yixing licks at his lips insistently, downright demanding entrance. Usually the smaller isn’t that intent, coaxing rather than claiming, or letting the other take the commando all together. Tonight, however ,Yixing doesn’t hold back, doesn’t have any patience or desire to wait for the other to dictate the pace.

Yifan’s fancy outfit quickly gets mussed up as Yixing’s hand wanders down to tug the white shirt out from the pants, wanting to get into contact with the elder’s soft, warm skin. He feels Yifan shudder against him when he lets his fingertips dance across the taller’s back, and a soft moan escapes the other as Yixing tightens the grip on his hair slightly in order to angle their heads a little differently.

Yifan himself let’s his hands roam as well, as if Yixing slipping beneath his shirt gave him permission to do the same. With the outfit the younger is sporting, it’s not difficult for Yifan to access bare skin, but Yixing still lets out an approving moan when he feels large hands brush over the skin right above his waistband before moving up the smaller’s back. Using the hold, Yifan draws their bodies flush together. The newfound proximity makes both of their breaths hitch as their growing arousals rub against the other’s body.

With an elevated sense of urgency Yixing backs Yifan against the bed, and the elder scoots back onto the mattress without needing to be prompted. The brunette is on top of him within a second, straddling Yifan’s waist as he leans forward to reconnect their lips. Both of their breathing has grown shallow by then, and Yixing can feel Yifan’s erratic heartbeat beneath his fingers as he lets his hands glide over the other’s closed chest, purposefully applying a bit more pressure when he passes his nipples.

He unbuttons the blond’s shirt while he’s kissing him, all tongue and nipping on Yifan’s lower lip because it makes him release these delicious noises of need and want. Yixing is the only one who can draw them from the elder, and he takes great delight in that fact.

When he’s opened the shirt far enough, he moves from Yifan’s lips down, pressing open mouthed kisses along the column of his neck, over his collarbones, moving lower and lower while he keeps on undoing button after button. Only as soon as the whole shirt is unfastened does he move to give Yifan’s nipple a kittenish lick. He hears the elder suck in a breath as he tries to suppress his moans. Yixing can’t have that though, so he repeats the motion, teasing the bud until the strained noises Yifan’s been making turn into a full out moan when he changes to sucking on it gently instead.

Yifan’s chest is still half covered by his shirt, and while Yixing attends to both of his nipples, he lets his hands stroke up Yifan’s chest, moving the shirt out of the way in the process. The noises Yifan’s making, and his fingers digging into where he’s holding Yixing’s hips-so low that he’s close to holding the smaller’s ass instead-have Yixing rut against the taller’s stomach while he’s leaning down to suck bruises into Yifan’s collarbone area.

The elder whines in protest and bucks his hips up. A smirk drawing onto his features Yixing decides to acknowledge the hint, moving lower until he can tilt his hips in a way that makes their clothed erections brush together when he leans forward this time. They both moan in unison, and suddenly Yifan’s hands are eager to strip Yixing of his tank top, no matter how flimsy it might be. He brushes his hands up the younger’s front, getting Yixing to lift his arms to draw the obstructive article of clothing off, throwing it blindly to the floor.

Yixing draws his head back, and grinds his hips down when Yifan reciprocates by brushing his thumbs over the younger’s nipples. His breath hitches at the double sensation, before he releases it in a low moan.

The urgency returns to Yixing’s actions after that, and he quickly moves to strip Yifan and himself of their pants and underwear. For a moment he eyes the shirt that’s hanging open on the other’s frame, and acknowledges how hot Yifan looks like this, flushed face, disheveled hair, panting with the white, open dress shirt. But he remembers that the elder said something about wanting to return the shirt to Junmyeon, and it seems a tad disrespectful to have sex with Yifan wearing it.

Not as if it would make much of a difference anymore, a tiny voice inside Yixing’s head says, but he still reluctantly takes the shirt off Yifan’s broad frame. With the both of them naked, Yixing can finally grind their erections together as he lowers himself back down over Yifan, pressing kisses along his jawbone.

He lets his breathing gust over the wet spots he’s licking along the other’s skin, enjoying the shivers it earns him. When he moves up a little so that his moans reverberate directly against the elder’s ears, he can feel Yifan’s hands finally move from his hips to grab his ass. Whether to regain some control over the pace they’re rutting against each other, or because he’s trying to get the other to finally take it to the next level, Yixing doesn’t know, but he also doesn’t care as he moans loudly.

He knows that Yifan is just as painfully hard as he is, and about as desperate, so he chooses not to prolong their foreplay any more. Instead he reaches for the lube-they’re now keeping it in Yifan’s bedside cupboard, so that Yixing doesn’t have to go through the embarrassment of having to run through the hospital’s hallways in the middle of them having sex again.

Yifan makes an approving noise when Yixing hands him the bottle, and he keeps on placing fleeting kisses on the elder’s chest while Yifan coats his fingers with the cold liquid. Instead of immediately pushing his fingers in, Yifan first takes the time to rub his digits along the rim of Yixing’s hole, teasing the younger by dipping his finger in only slightly before pulling back out, until Yixing whines for him to hurry already.

Going by the amused smirk, the blond had probably been waiting for Yixing to grow impatient, and as a retort the younger rocks their hips together again. The retaliation has Yifan throwing his head back, eyes clenched shut as a drawn out moan leaves his lips. His fingers move with urgency now, and he’s almost a little too quick with stretching Yixing, but that’s exactly what the younger needs at that moment. He just wants to feel Yifan inside of him already, to join their bodies, and the need, the lust has his pulse hammering in his veins.

Yifan’s long fingers are a blessing, the younger reasons when the elder finds his prostate immediately once he inserts the third finger, quickening the pace of Yixing’s breathing even more than the smaller thought was possible. Unable to control himself, the brunette moves back on Yifan’s fingers, releasing moans and high-pitched whines whenever he get the other to rub against his prostate.

“Yi-fan,” he knows that Yifan loves the way his name sounds on Yixing’s lips in moments like these, all breathless and distorted by pleasure. “You-you might want to take your fingers out.”

For a moment the taller seems to hesitate, contemplative as to whether he should keep on teasing the younger or heed his advice, but when Yixing moans especially loudly-on purpose, of course-Yifan withdraws his fingers with a groan.

Hiding his smirk from the other’s view, Yixing leans over. Even though he doesn’t have enough air left in his lungs to properly kiss the other, he can still press open-mouthed kisses against Yifan’s mouth-a lot of tongue, little finesse. At the same time grabs a hold of the lube bottle and coats his own hand before reaching between them to spread it along Yifan’s length. The elder moans when Yixing’s slender fingers move up and down his cock, and his fingers fist in the sheets while he tries to keep up with his boyfriend’s mouth and fingers at the same time.

Letting the other have a taste of his own medicine, Yixing reasons. He has to cut his teasing short as well however, when his own body is screaming for attention as well. One hand placed on Yifan’s chest for balance he uses the other one to guide the taller’s cock towards his entrance, inching down slowly. Yifan is holding his hips while the younger goes down, rubbing soothing circles into his skin-or at least trying to, but his hands are too shaky for smooth movements.

The stretch of Yifan’s cock is slightly uncomfortable-not painful with how thorough Yifan has prepped him, but uncomfortable-and Yixing stills for a moment to catch his breath a little and get used to the sensation. The elder is visibly having a hard time, restraining himself from moving, face bunched up in concentration, but Yifan waits for Yixing to roll his hips experimentally before he dares to move even the slightest bit.

Placing his second hand on Yifan’s chest as well, Yixing lifts himself off Yifan’s cock before sinking back down. He repeats the motion, changing angles until finally he finds the one that has him gasping, before a desperate noise-something between a whine and a keen-rips from his mouth.

He keeps the angle, his pace increasing as he rubs Yifan’s cock against his prostate, and the elder bucks his hips to meet Yixing’s downward grinding with upwards thrusting. They’re both panting frantically, and Yixing has gone slightly hoarse from all the noise he’s making. Yifan is mostly groaning, with a moan few and far between, so the brunette can’t really tell whether the other’s voice is affected just as badly.

Yixing is close to his release when he feels Yifan’s grip on his hips tighten, his thrusts losing their rhythm a little, and he knows that the other is close as well. He loves seeing Yifan like this, all disheveled and panting, lust clouding his eyes as he looks up at Yixing and only Yixing. The sight spurs the younger on to roll his hips with an increased speed, uncaring of his already quivering thighs. One of Yifan’s hands moves from the younger’s hips to wrap around Yixing’s so far untouched cock, having the brunette move into the touch with a high whine.

It’s a race of who reaches their orgasm first from that point on. It’s Yifan who comes first, releasing inside of Yixing after a particularly hard thrust, his back arching off the bed. With the feeling of the other’s hot cum filling him, and Yifan’s hand tightening around Yixing’s cock involuntarily, Yixing follows him right over the edge however with a drawn out moan that sounds remotely like the elder’s name on his lips.

It’s a while after they’ve come down from the high of their orgasms and are snuggled closely together, that Yixing speaks up because he just can’t contain his feelings. He already expressed them with his body, showed it in the way he held Yifan close and worshipped Yifan’s body the best way he could, and yet he feels the need to verbalize it, like an answer to the confession of his past that Yifan gave him that evening.

“I won’t let go of you, Yifan. I won’t,” Yixing is intent, beseeching, firm in his resolution. “Never.”

Yifan curls around him, pressing his chest against Yixing’s back even closer and burying his nose in the crook of Yixing’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispers, and the younger feels the words as a gust of air against his neck.

And Yixing can’t help himself from pretending to fall into the delusion that Yifan’s warm embrace creates, allowing himself to bathe in the feeling of those long arms wrapped so tight around his body, so reassuring and solid; even when he knows that Yifan can’t say the words back because it’s a promise the elder isn’t sure he can keep.

---
Time flies by after that, quicker than Yixing can even try to comprehend, despite all the things that are changing. It feels as if his and Yifan’s relationship has reached a new level, the little hints of uncertainty and caution around each other gone. After another month of Yifan doing well on their daily walks and in general, he brings up the idea that they can’t possibly keep the other in the hospital forever.

“And since you don’t have any other place to return to, I was thinking…” Yixing pauses, playing with Yifan’s fingers-a nervous habit he’s developed and only displays when he’s around the other. Yifan urges him to go on with a slight nudge, and Yixing lifts his gaze, a shy smile playing on his lips. “I was thinking whether you’d want to live at my place.”

Yifan’s eyes widen a little in surprise, but the small smile on his lips speaks of happiness. “You want me to move in with you?” There’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but the younger decides to ignore it.

“Yes, I mean, getting you from here to my house should be no problem, and you’ve been doing so well that I don’t think you need supervising 24/7 anymore.” Yixing lists off, before adding, “And it’s not as is if we haven’t essentially been living together already.”

“You just don’t want me hanging around at your work place all the time anymore because that means you have to see me 24/7,” Yifan pretends to sulk, his arms folded in front of his chest.

“Well, perhaps.” Yixing plays along, before he leans forward, crawling closer to the elder on all fours over the hospital bed until he’s able to whisper into Yifan’s ear. “But perhaps I also just don’t want you at my work place anymore because my colleagues would look at me funnily if I did certain... things with you. Also, my home offers us a little more-” a short pause for effect, the last word coming out as barely more than a gust of air, “-privacy.”

The elder’s hands have long since found their way to Yixing’s waist, and he squeezes when Yixing finishes his sentence. He tilts his head to capture Yixing’s lips but the brunette pulls back after a short time, sitting back on his heals with a smug grin. “It’s still afternoon, Fan. There are people around. We can’t start anything now.”

Yifan narrows his eyes. “Okay, you have very convincing arguments,” he admits, making Yixing’s grin widen by a fraction still.

The move is organized quicker than Yixing would have dared hoping.

Junmyeon agrees immediately to discharging Yifan. “He’s your patient. If you judge him to be healthy enough to be released, then I for sure won’t argue with you about that.”

They don’t expect Yifan to own much, but over the months he spent at the hospital he has amassed more belongings than both of them thought, most of them being books and sketching pads. With Luhan’s help however, it’s child’s play to get the moving boxes they managed to fill with Yifan’s stuff from the hospital to Yixing’s home, and they unpack quickly.

The first time Yifan sets a foot into Yixing’s flat, Yixing feels elated and self-conscious at the same time. He had purposely tidied up the place, cleaned everything thoroughly before Yifan came, but it still doesn’t stop himself from feeling nervous about the elder’s impending judgment. His flat is small, and perhaps a little cramped, framed pictures hanging everywhere and his furniture is a colourful, diverse mess of different styles he amassed over time.

In a way, he doesn’t expect Yifan to still be perceptive enough to even properly process all the impressions Yixing’s flat has to offer. They could have taken a car to get from the hospital to Yixing’s place, but Yifan had vehemently refused, insisting that if he was to be discharged he should be in a state where he could walk such a small distance at least. Yixing didn’t have the heart to disagree, especially when Yifan seemed so resolute.

Despite clearly being exhausted, however, Yifan still has enough strength left to inspect the smaller’s flat curiously. The healer watches in awe as his boyfriend’s lips stretch more and more into a smile before he’s downright beaming down at Yixing. “It looks cozy,” he says, and when Yixing’s excited expression falls into one of disbelief-cozy is pretty much like calling food interesting-Yifan immediately steps forward to wrap the smaller in an apologetic hug. “It’s great, really.”

He pulls back enough to look Yixing in the eyes, whispering a “Thank you” before he leans down to kiss Yixing in his flat-their flat-for the first time.

“Ehm, okay guys, I guess that’s the sign for me to take my leave,” Luhan’s voice echoes from somewhere behind Yixing’s right shoulder. The brunette has half a mind to pull back with an embarrassed laugh, apologizing to his friend, but Yifan’s tongue is licking along his bottom lip, asking for entrance, and well, Luhan knows where the door is.

“So, what was that you said about the privacy of your flat…,” Yifan whispers, and Yixing only barely contains his chuckle as he decides that the bedroom is a good place to start the tour of his flat.

They sit on the couch later that evening, Yixing with his legs thrown over Yifan’s lap, and their hands intertwined. “You know, I could paint to earn a bit of money. To help you with the rent and so on,” the elder offers, making Yixing lift his head from where he had already been dozing of slightly against Yifan’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, I can take care of the both of us. You don’t need to force yourself to earn anything.”

“I know, and I’m grateful for that. But I can’t just keep on imposing on you, I’ll have to support you as well in the future,” Yifan argues. “And I think it’ll be good if I keep myself busy with something.”

Yixing hums in understanding.

“Or do you think I’m not good enough of a painter to make any money off my art?” the blond asks, feigning hurt as he pushes his lower lip out in a mock-put.

It earns him a hearty laugh from Yixing as the younger hits his arm with his free hand. “Oh stop that pouting, of course I think your art is good enough. You know how much I admire your art.”

“Just wanted to make sure!” Yifan claims before leaning in and capturing Yixing’s lips, effectively muffling his laughter.

Yixing doesn’t mind at all when Yifan lets go of his hand and slips it around his waist, drawing him closer. Instead, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

---
Days pass by, weeks pass by, and Yixing and Yifan fall into a daily routine. They wake up together, sometimes a tangled mess of limbs, sometimes a good meter of distance between them-it doesn’t matter. They have breakfast together, and Yixing has to start getting ready at least ten, if not fifteen minutes before he has to leave because that’s how long Yifan keeps him in the hallway with kisses, unwilling to part.

In the end Yixing always has to leave for work however, and the elder stays behind to fill one of the many canvases Yixing bought him with sceneries or animals (or portraits of Yixing, but these are not for sale).

Everything is good. Everything is great.

Except that it isn’t.

It’s a pattern Yixing should have gotten used to by now, that no matter how good the time seems, it doesn’t last. Truthfully, it’s been months since Yifan’s last bad attack, and even though they’re both still very cautious, not letting Yifan go out without anyone to accompany him, Yixing believed that it was technically a superfluous safety measure.

But one day he comes home and Yifan isn’t immediately at the door step to greet him the way he usually is, with paint across on his cheek and his hands and his clothes, and pretty much everywhere, and a “welcome home” kiss. The other already woke up that day feeling not that good, and even though Yixing offered to take the day off at the hospital to stay at home with him, the elder insisted that it was going to be okay. He still has days where the void tugs stronger, and days where the pull is shallow, so he claimed it was just one of these normal fluctuations.

“Yifan?” he tentatively calls into the flat, hoping against hope that for some reason today is the first day that the other is so wrapped up in his painting that he simply couldn’t tear himself away to come greet his boyfriend.

When he doesn’t get an answer he unceremoniously drops the grocery bags to the floor as his heart suddenly beats a mile an hour as panic wells up inside of him, his breathing turning shallow and hectic as he rushes into the flat, frantically calling for the elder.

He’s greeted with empty rooms and no answer.

They have an agreement that Yifan won’t head out with anyone else unless they have talked about it beforehand or the taller informs Yixing with a text, but his phone doesn’t show and new messages either. Yixing is fighting the scared sobs that threaten to fall from his mouth when he hears a rustling coming from his wardrobe, and he essentially flies across the room, throwing the doors open-which are slightly open when usually he always closes them, he notes absentmindedly.

He doesn’t know what he expects, and for a moment he’s just relieved to have found Yifan, still alive and moving, but then the sight properly registers with him.

From an outsider’s perspective it must look almost funny the way Yifan, with his gigantic size, has squeezed himself into the furthest corner of the cupboard, knees drawn to his chest and curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible in the process. He’s half-hidden by their jackets and suit pants and all the other stuff they hang in their wardrobe, but Yixing yanks them all away without hesitation.

Yifan looks up from his perch at the sudden movement and influx of light, and his eyes widen slightly when he sees the younger. “Yixing,” the name is spoken so softly that Yixing isn’t sure whether it really came out as a gust of air and whether Yifan just mouthed it.

He sees light reflect on tear tracks on the elders cheeks, and for a moment Yixing feels as if he can’t breathe. It is so unexpected. Perhaps that’s why this attack hits Yixing ten times harder than any attack did before. Or perhaps it’s because this is the most severe attack Yifan’s ever experienced, as if all the time that’s been going by well was only an elastic band being pulled tauter and tauter, until it was eventually released.

The wardrobe. He thinks, and suddenly it makes sense, but Yixing wishes it didn’t, because if his theory is right then the attack might have been even stronger than Yifan’s agitated state lets on. The wardrobe is dark, it’s a small room, it’s as far from the open sky as Yifan can get in this flat.

“Yifan.” He eventually composes himself enough to voice the elder’s name, but has to clear his throat when he notices how it sounds more like a croak than anything else.

He squats down to get on eye-level with his boyfriend. No matter how much he feels like throwing up, he can’t let any of that show now, because his main task is it to calm Yifan down now. “Hey, Yifan, I’m home. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

There is a heartbeat of silence where the elder just looks at him, then he pretty much launches himself at Yixing. The sudden impact makes the younger stumble, but he manages to catch himself with his hands so that he sits steadily enough to keep his balance even when Yifan presses closer, his hands grabbing the back of the other’s shirt as if he has the intention to never, ever, let go again.

“I almost wasn’t strong enough, Yixing,” the taller confesses in a broken voice, and Yixing’s heart misses a beat as the sickness returns full force. Like this, clinging to Yixing tightly with tear streaks running down his cheeks, Yifan simply looks vulnerable and the sight is almost too much to take for Yixing. But he reminds himself that he has to be strong now, can’t let himself succumb to the numbness of fear. “I almost gave in today, Yixing. I’m sorry.”´

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Yixing gently hushes his boyfriend, rocking lightly back and forth in what he hopes is a calming motion. “You are strong, Yifan. I know that. You did resist in the end, that’s everything that matters.”

He hopes the lie sounds more convincing to Yifan than it does to himself.

It’s that day that Yixing has to learn that the attacks are unpredictable, and that no matter how well Yifan is doing, there’s always the danger of a relapse.

( Part 6)