From Pillow To Chair
Title: From Pillow To Chair
Pairing: Fanxing
Rating: PG
Length: ~3.1k
Summary: Yifan hates public transport with a burning passion, and if the way the bus is intent on embarrassing him in front of the cute dimpled boy that he always sees after work is any indication, the feeling is mutual.
A/N: Originally written for kissfanxing and posted here. I had ridiculously much fun writing this, and I hope you all enjoy the result as well~
From Pillow To Chair
An irritated huff left Yifan’s mouth as another sharp elbow hit his ribs. He couldn’t even tell if it was an involuntary movement or an intentional jab to move him out of the way. The faint sound of a half-hearted apology wafted to his ears from somewhere to his left, but that wasn’t exactly an indication which of the two possibilities was true.
Yifan wanted to be able to move out of the way, more than he could articulate with the words he knew. He shifted a bit, pressed through two bodies, but all he did gain was a new place to stand in while feeling like a sardine in a tin.
The bus was crowded. And not the sort of what-a-shame-I-won’t-get-a-seat-anymore crowded, but crowded crowded, the sort of there’s-a-shoulder-in-my-back-and-a-shoe-on-my-foot crowded.
Yifan tried to take slow, measured breaths to quench down the annoyance that was pulling his face into a frown, but the air he inhaled just held the tang of all the people present, all the different perfumes and street fragrances. The breathing exercise ended up not being particularly successful.
There were a lot of reasons why Yifan hated public transport, and this bus ride might sum them all up. There were too many people in the tight confines of the vehicle, he couldn’t move, nor could he properly stand still with being jostled around all the time. With all the passenger’s hushed conversations and breathing, combined with the engine noises, it was loud, and it was warm.
Yifan mentally counted how long it had been since he had dropped off his car at the car repair shop, and how many days were left until he could fetch it again. He came to the conclusion that it was entirely too long. Every further day would be too long. He simply wasn’t made for such an environment, these crowds, the continuous pushing and pulling. It were decidedly too many people for his liking.
Suddenly the bus did a sharp turn before braking. The opening of the doors brought a waft of fresh air, but Yifan couldn’t properly appreciate the dose of oxygen, because every bus stop put the crowd into motion, people trying to make it to the doors to exit and new people entering, trying to desperately still get on because they didn’t want to have to wait for the next bus. Which would be just as crowded anyway.
With his height and the irritated frown on his face Yifan at least had the benefit of intimidation on his side, but inside the bus even that didn’t amount to much. He still got caught in the opposing streams of people. Though his height did give him an advantage, because it enabled him to spot a vacant space at the edge of the crowd, where the standing passengers bordered on the seats.
Trying to use the movement around him to the best avail, Yifan pushed through the mass of people until finally there were no more hats or hairdos in his face. He exhaled deeply, before inhaling once, taking delight in the fact that his ribcage could expand without any constriction. True, there were still people at his back and at his sides, the jabbing of elbows and accidental kicking didn’t stop, but he felt a bit of the tension fall off.
Then he noticed the person sitting on the seat right in front of him. It was the boy that had already caught his eye when he boarded the bus for the first time a week ago.
His soft-looking black hair was long enough to cover his forehead, and Yifan couldn’t tell if the disheveled look was a result of the wind blowing outside or a natural tendency for curls. Slung around his neck were the same purple headphones he always carried, sometimes listening to music with them, sometimes just wearing them like a necklace. A matching purple backpack was cradled to his chest.
Whenever Yifan got on the bus at his stop the boy was already there, always sitting, so Yifan had reasoned he must be getting in at one of the very early stops, and whenever Yifan left the bus, the boy would remain.
Most of the time he would be sleeping, head tilted slightly to the side as if to rest on his shoulder. Only once had Yifan seen him awake and reading, on a day when the bus fortunately hadn’t been so crowded. That way Yifan had been able to study how his expression changed when he was leafing through the book, emerged in fictional worlds.
He swore his heart had skipped a beat when he had seen the boy smile brightly at the words on the page, a deep indentation appearing in his cheek. That day had been the day when he had dubbed the boy “Dimple”. Just so that he had something shorter to refer to him than “the cute guy form the bus” because that was quite a mental mouthful.
It startled Yifan a little to find himself faced with Dimple, but the other was sleeping as per usual. It gave Yifan the opportunity to watch him. He did feel a bit creepy to be admiring Dimple’s sleeping form like this, but he honestly couldn’t help himself. Even if he were trying to avert his gaze, his eyes would just gravitate back to the soft black-hair, the serenely relaxed looking face, as if some weird sort of power was pulling Yifan’s attention to the boy.
For a few moments Yifan actually managed to block out how much he hated the bus, and to just focus on the slight lurching of his stomach, and the slightly faster beating of his heart. His formerly annoyed frown had turned into the hint of a smile as he saw Dimple breathe softly in his sleep.
Yifan’s state of serenity didn’t last for long though, because although he might have forgotten his surroundings to a degree, they still were there. And Yifan was painfully reminded of them when the bus made a sharp turn. His grasp on the handhold had loosened slightly, so when someone stumbled into his back, it sent him falling right forward.
He tried to catch himself, but he couldn’t move back because the space he had occupied just now was already blocked by another body. His feet weren’t able to coordinate quickly enough to save him. Yifan ended up falling directly into Dimple’s lap.
The boy jolted awake, and his hands came up to grab Yifan’s arms tightly, as if on instinct. It was impossible to tell whether to catch Yifan or to push him away. Dimple’s widened eyes were unfocussed for a minute, his mouth still hanging open from the surprised gasp he had let out as Yifan’s body had made contact with his legs. He was he visibly trying to grasp the situation.
A distant part of his brain told Yifan that he should jump up immediately but he found his body frozen in shock, Dimple’s fingers enough to secure him in place. He was sitting on the other male’s lap, and there really were more appropriate reactions than to stare back into startled brown eyes, but his brain couldn’t get through to his body.
They both didn’t seem to be intent on moving however, as neither broke the gaze. Yifan’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, supposedly trying to form an apology or an explanation, but there were no words coming out.
Then the bus made another sharp turn, and Yifan found himself tumbling forwards once more, directly into the other’s chest this time. He noticed Dimple’s strength as the male stopped Yifan’s fall with the hands still on Yifan’s shoulders.
It prevented the taller from potentially embarrassing himself further by colliding face first with Dimple’s front, but it also managed to startle them both from their reverence.
Dimple immediately pulled his hands back, as if they had been burned, holding them up in a gesture of showcasing harmlessness. “I’m so sorry.” He exclaimed, and Yifan seriously would have let out a disbelieving snort-it had been him who had fallen into the other’s lap, the boy had nothing to apologize for-but he was busy trying to right himself and get up.
“No, no, I am sorry. So sorry.” He immediately replied, pausing his movements to look at Dimple intently. “I just lost my balance, I- I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t sure what he had wanted to say, but his brain was on overdrive either way as he frantically tried to get his body off the boy’s lap. An alarmingly impossible task. It was almost as if the crowd had immediately absorbed the space he had vacated, leaving him with close to no room to move back.
“It’s okay, it happens.” Dimple was quick to reassure him, and the gentle smile on his features almost made Yifan halt his movements once more-it certainly managed to make his heart halt for a moment.
“Really, I’m so sorry.” Yifan reiterated. Just as he had managed to find a precarious placing for his feet and was trying to lift his body up-he really hadn’t thought the plan through, there was no space to move into-small hands came up to catch his hips, pulling him back.
With a startled yelp he fell back down, this time with his back facing the boys front. He looked down in astonishment, and indeed, there were delicate fingers on his waist. Twisting his head around he threw a questioning look at the boy.
Dimple simply chuckled, and even though he loosened the grasp he had on Yifan slightly, his hands remained on the taller male. “As I said, it’s okay. The bus is too crowded, you can sit on my lap.”
In lieu of a witty comeback Yifan just found himself gaping and blinking at Dimple. He wasn’t really sure if he had heard correctly, but then the boy tilted his head slightly to the side and smiled at him questioningly, still making no move to push Yifan off.
“Wha- No, I can’t accept that offer.” Yifan said, trying to wave it off. “I’m way too heavy.”
A hearty laugh left Dimple’s mouth, and Yifan filed the sound away mentally. Just because it made him feel a little bit lighter, and on future bad days he might want to draw from its positivity to cheer him up.
“If I say it’s okay, you can go ahead and accept it. Really. I won’t be able to hit the gym tonight either way, it’s a good substitute.” The boy said, before an almost flirtatious glimmer entered his eyes all of a sudden. “And my lap is really comfortable, so you might want to take the opportunity.”
The words died in Yifan’s throat. He wanted to protest further, but ended up simply nodding and relaxing a bit on his makeshift seat. Actually the other was right, his lap was surprisingly comfortable.
“Why would you do this?” Yifan asked as soon as he had properly settled.
A low chuckle resounded from behind him. “Well, as I said, the bus is crowded, and it’s easier for everyone like this.”
Yifan watched as the boy’s hands fell from the hold on his waist to rest on top of his legs instead.
“Aren’t I too tall?” He worried because his back was effectively blocking off Dimple’s sight completely, and that couldn’t be a very comfortable position.
Another chuckle, then the boy nudged him slightly, almost as if in reprimanding. “No need to brag about your height.”
Yifan flushed, and even though he wanted to look at the boy some more, he faced strictly forward so that the other wouldn’t see it. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
“I wouldn’t hold it against you, you are pretty tall.” Dimple replied, patting his leg soothingly. “But that’s good.”
Yifan wanted to turn around in question, but before he could do so he felt a soft impact against his back, and even amongst the noises of the bus he surprisingly heard the small ruffling of his shirt’s fabric.
“…Excuse me?” His question trailed off towards the end when he felt Dimple nuzzle slightly into his back. Suddenly he realized that the softness in the other’s voice must have been the remains of sleepiness.
“Yixing. My name is Yixing.” The boy-Yixing-replied, as if Yifan had just asked for his name. He hadn’t, he had rather wondered why the cute boy he had studied for a week now was essentially burying his face in his back.
But instead of complaining he answered, “I’m Yifan.”
The answering soft humming reverberated against his skin, a light vibration even through the layers clothing. Or perhaps that was just his imagination. Perhaps this all was just his imagination. Now that Yifan thought about it, it would make sense. It was perhaps the only way this absurd situation made sense.
“Just so you know Yifan, I wouldn’t do this for everyone.” Yixing mumbled against his shirt, sleepiness now openly evident. The other sounded as if he was only one step away from falling back asleep. “I only do this because you’ve got such nice broad shoulders. And you’re warm. Quite comfortable.”
Yixing clenched his hands in a fist slightly, before winding his arms just the slightest bit tighter around Yifan’s middle, as if the taller was a stuffed animal he was holding close.
“Ehm, thanks I guess?”
“I’ll just catch a bit more sleep.” Yixing’s voice was so quiet that Yifan had a hard time catching it, but he still did. Though it did sound as if Yixing was talking to himself rather than to Yifan.
And indeed, only seconds after, Yifan felt Yixing’s breathing even out against him, felt it in the warm gusts of air against his back and the heaving of Yixing’s chest pressed to his body.
Carefully, so as to be a good makeshift pillow and not to disturb his makeshift seat, he threw a glance over his shoulder. He hardly caught more than the sight of Yixing’s black hair, and a hint of the purple backpack being squashed between them.
He turned back forward with the realization that somehow he had been caught in a backhug, and that a boy that was virtually a stranger slept peacefully leaning against his back. This ride had started out horribly annoying and had turned really weird. Not a bad sort of weird though, Yifan reasoned.
He ended up missing his stop, because he couldn’t bear waking Yixing up. He also ended up finding out that Yixing had to get out almost half an hour later, fourteen stops after Yifan’s.
It was fascinating how the smaller seemed to have an internal alarm clock, because he stirred two stops before his, yawning softly and blinking the sleep out of his eyes adorably. When he saw Yifan, he looked momentarily confused, then his mouth stretched into a sleepy but content smile.
“Thanks for letting me nap.” The smaller murmured, voice still a bit thick from sleep.
Not knowing what to reply to that without sounding weird, Yifan simply flashed him an unsure smile and hummed non-committally.
Even though the bus had emptied enough by then that it would have been easily possible for Yifan to get up, he remained on Yixing’s lap until the smaller told him that his stop was the next and he had to get out.
Since Yifan would have to take a detour to get home either way, he got out together with Yixing, surprising him (“What a coincidence, you also have to get out here?”) but the taller simply lied that he was visiting a friend. He wouldn’t have wanted to inconvenience Yixing with the knowledge that he had made a completely useless half an hour travel just because he didn’t want to rouse the other.
Yixing said his farewell with a dazzling, dimpled smile and an outstretched hand for Yifan to shake.
It took Yifan almost another hour in crowded public transport to finally get home, but he couldn’t really bring himself to mind. He only thought of the piece of paper he had slipped into Yixing’s pocket while the other was sleeping.
“From pillow to chair: Your lap is indeed quite comfortable.” It read, and below he had scribbled his number. He considered himself quite smooth, and hoped that Yixing would understand the hint to contact him.
(That night he didn’t consider himself so smooth anymore though. Instead he laid awake a big part of the night, rolling around in bed, heavily tempted to pull his hair out in frustration, because that might have been the worst pick-up line he could have possibly come up with.)
He had just arrived at work the next day when he felt his pocket vibrate, his phone showing one new message from an unknown number.
After his nightly dose of convincing himself he had totally messed up, the message sent his heartbeat hammering in his chest.
He was half eager, half scared to open the message, because there was still the very real possibility that Yixing had been weirded out enough by Yifan that now he just wrote the taller how he would prefer it if the other kept his distance from him.
That wasn’t taking into consideration that technically it had been Yixing who had gotten them both in the embarrassing situation to begin with, but Yifan’s anxious mind wanted to focus on the negative arguments rather than to hope.
Eventually he reasoned that he couldn’t put it off forever to read the message, so he gathered up all his courage and opened it.
Dear pillow
I’m so sorry about yesterday (m._.)m
I was a bit out of it because I slept too little the day before… or well, I guess the whole week before, really. I can’t properly remember everything that happened, but I hope I wasn’t too imposing?
This night I slept enough, so perhaps we should start over again. I’ll see you in the bus later, right?
Your chair (at least I’m assuming I’m the chair, right?)
PS. So you think my lap is comfortable, huh? く(・~＾)ゝI think you really should step up your pickup line game, not all of your targets will be as sleepy and easily persuadable as me.
Yifan didn’t even care about the side jab at his flirting skills. He was a bit afraid his face would split into two with how wide he was smiling as he typed out his quick response to Yixing.
In all his life he had never looked forward to a bus ride as much as that day. And the more crowded it would be, the better.