(no subject)
title: suddenly, suddenly
ship: sexing .. kaisoo/xiuhan
rating: pg
summary: after the pepero kiss, zhang yixing tries to decipher his feelings for oh sehun.
warnings: none
length: idk man sorry it's pretty short tho enJOYYYY
it was a whole three weeks after the infamous pepero kiss that yixing started to give a shit.
the internet had become the group’s worst enemy and best friend and their managers were equal parts thrilled and extremely worried. the game was just that, a game, and they had made it not so. sehun and yixing had made it too obvious.
yixing was confused.
sehun was never confused.
the night after the kiss, they sat in their dorm, feet slightly touching on the floor beneath them, and they looked at their feet and said nothing. jongin and kyungsoo were asleep on the bed across from them, tangled and oblivious.
“so i guess that happened.” yixing giggles, but it’s nervous and full of meaning and he didn’t want it to be that way, but there it is.
--
sehun is washing dishes. he doesn’t have to wash dishes, but he does it anyway and jong dae approaches him at the sink.
“those are clean, you idiot,” he says, shrugging into sehun’s stiff shoulder. and sehun tenses up and he thinks about all the reasons he can’t bring himself to sleep at night.
“not clean enough.”
--
there were mouths moving and lips burning, as if on fire, in yixing’s dreams. sehun lies awake next to him, feeling yixing curl up and listening to him moan and maybe cry. he places fingers delicately on yixing’s body, holds him so slightly it’s an echo of a touch. but he doesn’t wake yixing up, and he doesn’t say a word.
--
“what the fuck are we supposed to do with a day off?” jongin asks, slumped over luhan’s chest, the bags under his eyes growing darker every second. “i don’t even know what that means anymore.”
yixing laughs and says, “i don’t know either,” and sehun drapes an arm across yixing’s shoulder.
“isn’t it obvious?”
yixing sighs into his touch miraculously, without thought. “what’s obvious?”
sehun pulls him closer, and it’s nothing, it’s always nothing. “don’t you know?”
“hot pot or bulgogi, you hungry fuckers?” baekhyun laughs hysterically, looking at them and then glancing at kris.
kris rolls his eyes because what else is he supposed to do? he knows, everyone knows. don’t they?
--
they are at a promotion for some restaurant in gangnam and minseok is feeling sick and luhan has his hands on minseok’s lower back and yixing stares and stares and feels nothing and everything all at once.
“hyung, are you okay?” he asks, but he asks for recognition and not for an answer.
“yeah, don’t worry, i’ll be fine,” minseok says back, strong in ways that yixing can’t imagine. strong perhaps because the hands on minseok’s back are an implication of something terrible and yet they are perfect, not dirty, perfect. luhan’s eyes say a million words and it is infinite and beautiful and yixing looks at sehun, sehun’s concerned eyes, and they are looking at him, they are looking at yixing, and maybe that is when he knows.
--
it’s 4:27 A.M. and they are at the han river with greedy green bottles of soju in their hands. escaping the dorms is risky and dangerous and they know it and they are drunk on the danger and the ridiculous possibility.
sehun throws his empty bottle into the river. yixing trembles as it shatters and sehun screams, “pabo!”
yixing’s cheeks redden, as if he doesn’t know who sehun is talking to, looks at his feet, new chuck taylors too clean to be forgiving.
“wh-who are you yelling at, maknae?”
sehun tries to turn to him and stumbles, and suddenly he is on his knees in front of yixing and he is grasping yixing’s face. “don’t. don’t call me that.”
yixing feels like his blood is clotting all over and maybe it has stopped flowing for all the good it’s doing him. sehun’s thumbs move deftly across yixing’s lips as if they have always done so.
“you are a bundle of secrets, you idiot,” sehun says, and he smiles, that dumb fucking smile that yixing hates and loves so much. and yixing puts his forehead against sehun’s and there is something, always, an electricity and it grows.
“you shouldn’t stay here too long, hyung,” sehun murmurs. “i can’t stay here too long with you.”
and yixing hesitates because he knows, he knows what could happen, but he doesn’t care until he feels the bile rising in his throat. he pulls away, chugs another shot of soju.
“yes, we should go back. before we get caught.”
sehun shakes his head violently. he laughs, but it doesn’t seem funny. stands up first. walks away.
--
the practice rooms are quiet around christmas. yixing isn’t allowed to leave for the holidays; too many emotions attached, too many reasons for him to feel like he should abandon his contract. this business has a way of reminding him of what matters.
this isn’t the first time he has cried alone in a practice room.
growl finishes playing before he has finished dancing and there are tears in his eyes before he realizes why. he misses his mother, he misses his grandmother and his family and he is so lonely.
and suddenly, he misses sehun.
“but it hasn’t even been two days,” a mocking voice says.
sehun strolls into the practice room, stroking his blonde undercut and smirking at the floor.
“i thought- i thought you were gone. i thought you were home.” yixing says it like he is pleading. he tries to stop crying, god he tries, he throws his hood over his head and wraps his arms around his face, but those wretched tears keep flowing. if anything, sehun appearing like this is only making him cry harder.
“hyung.” sehun says it so gently it seems like only a whisper. “don’t do that.”
yixing buries his head deeper inside his hoodie. “don’t come closer. don’t.”
“why?”
yixing hears sehun take a step closer and he’s crumbling and he doesn’t know how to stop.
“because i can’t.”
“can’t what, hyung?” another step closer.
“i can’t do this with you. i can’t-” yixing looks up, finally, and there he is, oh sehun, the boy who breaks and mends his heart with a smile, the boy who has made him question everything, the boy with the answers. the only boy that has ever mattered enough to make him afraid. “i can’t like you like this.”
somehow yixing doesn’t move away when sehun crouches down next to him, takes yixing’s face in his hands, kisses his cheek, slowly, like poetry, and says, “yes, you can.”
“i can’t,” yixing cries, his hands and hood over his face as if he could make himself stop existing. but he feels lips on his own suddenly, those lips, the ones that say everything he can’t and doesn’t want to, the ones that first made him close his eyes.
“yixing, you can.” sehun smiles into the kiss as if there was no other choice. “you already do.”
ship: sexing .. kaisoo/xiuhan
rating: pg
summary: after the pepero kiss, zhang yixing tries to decipher his feelings for oh sehun.
warnings: none
length: idk man sorry it's pretty short tho enJOYYYY
it was a whole three weeks after the infamous pepero kiss that yixing started to give a shit.
the internet had become the group’s worst enemy and best friend and their managers were equal parts thrilled and extremely worried. the game was just that, a game, and they had made it not so. sehun and yixing had made it too obvious.
yixing was confused.
sehun was never confused.
the night after the kiss, they sat in their dorm, feet slightly touching on the floor beneath them, and they looked at their feet and said nothing. jongin and kyungsoo were asleep on the bed across from them, tangled and oblivious.
“so i guess that happened.” yixing giggles, but it’s nervous and full of meaning and he didn’t want it to be that way, but there it is.
--
sehun is washing dishes. he doesn’t have to wash dishes, but he does it anyway and jong dae approaches him at the sink.
“those are clean, you idiot,” he says, shrugging into sehun’s stiff shoulder. and sehun tenses up and he thinks about all the reasons he can’t bring himself to sleep at night.
“not clean enough.”
--
there were mouths moving and lips burning, as if on fire, in yixing’s dreams. sehun lies awake next to him, feeling yixing curl up and listening to him moan and maybe cry. he places fingers delicately on yixing’s body, holds him so slightly it’s an echo of a touch. but he doesn’t wake yixing up, and he doesn’t say a word.
--
“what the fuck are we supposed to do with a day off?” jongin asks, slumped over luhan’s chest, the bags under his eyes growing darker every second. “i don’t even know what that means anymore.”
yixing laughs and says, “i don’t know either,” and sehun drapes an arm across yixing’s shoulder.
“isn’t it obvious?”
yixing sighs into his touch miraculously, without thought. “what’s obvious?”
sehun pulls him closer, and it’s nothing, it’s always nothing. “don’t you know?”
“hot pot or bulgogi, you hungry fuckers?” baekhyun laughs hysterically, looking at them and then glancing at kris.
kris rolls his eyes because what else is he supposed to do? he knows, everyone knows. don’t they?
--
they are at a promotion for some restaurant in gangnam and minseok is feeling sick and luhan has his hands on minseok’s lower back and yixing stares and stares and feels nothing and everything all at once.
“hyung, are you okay?” he asks, but he asks for recognition and not for an answer.
“yeah, don’t worry, i’ll be fine,” minseok says back, strong in ways that yixing can’t imagine. strong perhaps because the hands on minseok’s back are an implication of something terrible and yet they are perfect, not dirty, perfect. luhan’s eyes say a million words and it is infinite and beautiful and yixing looks at sehun, sehun’s concerned eyes, and they are looking at him, they are looking at yixing, and maybe that is when he knows.
--
it’s 4:27 A.M. and they are at the han river with greedy green bottles of soju in their hands. escaping the dorms is risky and dangerous and they know it and they are drunk on the danger and the ridiculous possibility.
sehun throws his empty bottle into the river. yixing trembles as it shatters and sehun screams, “pabo!”
yixing’s cheeks redden, as if he doesn’t know who sehun is talking to, looks at his feet, new chuck taylors too clean to be forgiving.
“wh-who are you yelling at, maknae?”
sehun tries to turn to him and stumbles, and suddenly he is on his knees in front of yixing and he is grasping yixing’s face. “don’t. don’t call me that.”
yixing feels like his blood is clotting all over and maybe it has stopped flowing for all the good it’s doing him. sehun’s thumbs move deftly across yixing’s lips as if they have always done so.
“you are a bundle of secrets, you idiot,” sehun says, and he smiles, that dumb fucking smile that yixing hates and loves so much. and yixing puts his forehead against sehun’s and there is something, always, an electricity and it grows.
“you shouldn’t stay here too long, hyung,” sehun murmurs. “i can’t stay here too long with you.”
and yixing hesitates because he knows, he knows what could happen, but he doesn’t care until he feels the bile rising in his throat. he pulls away, chugs another shot of soju.
“yes, we should go back. before we get caught.”
sehun shakes his head violently. he laughs, but it doesn’t seem funny. stands up first. walks away.
--
the practice rooms are quiet around christmas. yixing isn’t allowed to leave for the holidays; too many emotions attached, too many reasons for him to feel like he should abandon his contract. this business has a way of reminding him of what matters.
this isn’t the first time he has cried alone in a practice room.
growl finishes playing before he has finished dancing and there are tears in his eyes before he realizes why. he misses his mother, he misses his grandmother and his family and he is so lonely.
and suddenly, he misses sehun.
“but it hasn’t even been two days,” a mocking voice says.
sehun strolls into the practice room, stroking his blonde undercut and smirking at the floor.
“i thought- i thought you were gone. i thought you were home.” yixing says it like he is pleading. he tries to stop crying, god he tries, he throws his hood over his head and wraps his arms around his face, but those wretched tears keep flowing. if anything, sehun appearing like this is only making him cry harder.
“hyung.” sehun says it so gently it seems like only a whisper. “don’t do that.”
yixing buries his head deeper inside his hoodie. “don’t come closer. don’t.”
“why?”
yixing hears sehun take a step closer and he’s crumbling and he doesn’t know how to stop.
“because i can’t.”
“can’t what, hyung?” another step closer.
“i can’t do this with you. i can’t-” yixing looks up, finally, and there he is, oh sehun, the boy who breaks and mends his heart with a smile, the boy who has made him question everything, the boy with the answers. the only boy that has ever mattered enough to make him afraid. “i can’t like you like this.”
somehow yixing doesn’t move away when sehun crouches down next to him, takes yixing’s face in his hands, kisses his cheek, slowly, like poetry, and says, “yes, you can.”
“i can’t,” yixing cries, his hands and hood over his face as if he could make himself stop existing. but he feels lips on his own suddenly, those lips, the ones that say everything he can’t and doesn’t want to, the ones that first made him close his eyes.
“yixing, you can.” sehun smiles into the kiss as if there was no other choice. “you already do.”