[fic] Good
Author ofolivesnginger
Fandom: EXO
Pairing: Kris/Luhan
Rating: R
Words: 2658
Summary: as eternal as vancity.
a/n: nothing much, i just think we all deserve some healing right now and i guess this strange explosion is my method
Lu Han’s takeout consisted of some 2 dish + rice lunchbox combos at the public market that he grabbed on his way back from Richmond. The whole car ride smelled like stewed eggplants, and he’d been planning on making up for the skipped lunch as soon as he got back, except he found Yifan in his work room watching something on his laptop with his back stiff and straight and probably hurting.
“When’s the last time you moved?” He flicked on the light. Yifan looked up from the screen, pausing whatever’s flashing color on his face. He looked zoned out, blinking a few times, stretching.
“At least two episodes…” He yawned, messing up his hair with both hands. Lu Han raised a brow, coming up behind to massage his shoulders, which fell loose by his hands almost instantly. The screen was paused on a shot of a car, but he knew Yifan was watching nothing but Breaking Bad lately.
“You came home early?”
He nodded, leaning back and sighing. “Yeah, one of my favorites got put down today.”
Lu Han swiveled him around, watching him. “Did you have to do it?”
“The owners wanted me to.”
Lu Han frowned down at him, and then pulled him into a hug. In a moment Yifan’s arms wound around his back, and right as he set the food down on the empty chair he was pulled forwards, knee sticking on the cushion where above is his man, shut eyed, pressed into his jacket, inhaling him. He smelled of the outdoors, the residential gardening, car seat leather. Yifan undid the buttons of his coat, sealing his hand on the thin cotton underneath, while Lu Han pulled up and sat with both knees folded on his lap.
“You want some dinner?”
Yifan shook his head. Lu Han leaned back, watching the hands wander, push the coat off his shoulders and onto the floorboards. Yifan rolled down the wrinkled sleeves Lu Han didn’t have time to take down before heading out the office today, then pulled the hem out from his pants. His hands slid under the steel blue bunch, and Lu Han slowed his breathing.
Yifan pushed back his hair until it somewhat stayed. They regarded each other, and Lu Han had a thought about dinner before lifting a hand to touch Yifan’s eyelids. He tried to close them but they shook, like a kid trying to fool his mom with a PSP under the pillow. Yifan hadn’t been sleeping well, last night Lu Han swapped pillows with him to try, but he ended up letting Yifan sleep on his arm until his biceps were numb in the morning. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with how little he talked about work lately, whether it’s the excitement of the transfer dying down for him or something troubling, but it was harder to fall asleep at night, distracted by the crickets, when Yifan didn’t whisper in the dark about the-
“Whoa-”
He said before he realized, and he felt it before he said it, the hand cupping around inside his briefs, pulling him out into the cavity between their upper bodies, an almond arch, Yifan bent forward with his face in his shoulder. His belt had come undone at some point he’d been wondering what Yifan needed, and…this was new, caught him entirely off guard. Lu Han’s hand shook as it wrapped around Yifan’s wrist, which was now dragging swiftly up the length of the twin cocks in his hand.
“Yifan…”
Yifan was burrowed in. He slid his hand to the beat of the pulse he heard in his ear, and it may have been his own or Lu Han’s, pounding through the jugular in his neck. Up and around, and then down, and squeezing, rolling his hips. Lu Han felt himself carried helplessly on his thighs, and his own hips stuttered, fucking into the warmth, the all-around slick of their skin. Yifan sucked on his neck, and he tightened his grip before loosening when Yifan’s hand jacked them beyond control, their cocks sliding past one another in his fist, friction like fire, and Yifan shot all over his hand, which dragged down and back twice more before Lu Han came too.
When they were cleaned up, Lu Han’s hips hurt, and so he gave up standing, left a boneless heap on Yifan’s lap. “Didn’t see that coming…” he muttered into his collar. Yifan kicked the chair around with his slippers on the carpet, and grabbed the food from the chair.
“I need to go wash my hands.”
Lu Han shook his head.
“Alright, then you need to feed me.”
What really made it unexpected for Lu Han was that it’d been three weeks since the last time they had sex, and the last time was the first time they had sex, which is just a joke, but that’s how it came to be for them. They hadn’t talked about it since, probably because it turned out way more passionate than anticipated, and they both got so shy it almost didn’t happen. About a week after when they were drinking at Karaoke with their crew and one of the guys gaped and asked about it Lu Han just shrugged it off like it was only natural, except Yifan knew the truth was that Lu Han had to physically text him “We have to have sex tomorrow night” in order to set a date for this thing neither of them actually knew how to fuckin start.
Ridiculous.
Anyone who knew the two of them back in their separate college times would laugh. Because it was Lu Han, freshman who had the balls to buy his girlfriend a dildo for Valentines and got rejected, and he ended up keeping it and some time in sophomore year came out as bisexual. This was the first story he told Yifan when they started drinking together, and at the time Yifan laughed and clapped him on the back. They were aware of each other’s sexual appetites, but somehow the words never formed until they damn clear did, and all Yifan could reply was “oh...ok”.
Not really though: he spent the whole day in his office thinking about dogs and sex, which was weird. He tried to fantasize and found he couldn’t about Lu Han the way he used to close his eyes and draw someone unknown, and it buzzed through him, the eagerness, the urgency. It buzzed through the nice, standard wine and dinner. It buzzed through a movie, where they made out below the couch and he couldn’t breathe. It buzzed throughout the shower, but it stopped the moment he came out and Lu Han walked in and cranked the tap, and he was in their bedroom all alone and suddenly very, very nervous. His heartbeat crashed…he wandered into the closet, suddenly self conscious. About the towel on his waist. About his big hands and big feet, the clues of childhood pimples on his back, his birthmarks, his gummy teeth, the corners of his mouth. His sweaty skin. His knee shape. Even the weird flat of the back of his head. He felt for some hanging pajamas, but they wouldn’t do, and he felt in the dark for the undies drawer but the washroom door was opening, and Lu Han dripped all the way out on the wooden floor. Yifan slid into the clothes before he realized he had, and then he held his breath and swallowed.
“Fan?”
The boards creaked a little. Yifan heard him walk around the bed, then he heard the bedroom door open, then swing closed again. A towel fluttered.
“Wu Yifan?” He didn’t know why he was hiding, but he knew he had to now, because if he responded Lu Han would ask him why and he just didn’t know in this moment, but he felt like he would know so, so soon, his heart was pounding out of his ears-
“I’m naked…?”
The fabrics muffled sound, but he could hear the teasing fell flat in Lu Han’s tone, a little lost and almost a little afraid. His foot stepped an inch and the wetness made a sound on the floor, and suddenly Lu Han was approaching.
“...Marco.” He whispered in the dark.
“Polo,” Yifan said, and then their hands brushed. In the soft light from outside Yifan could see he was naked as promised. He lifted his chin, and Lu Han was staring at him.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m nervous.” He laughed, sounding croaky. Lu Han was watching him, and he looked incredibly beautiful, and also contented and gentle, like in that moment you could tell him anything and he would have faith in God, and life, and the world good enough to believe you.
“Good.” He said. “Good. Me too.” And then they made out in the clothes, and then Lu Han took him by the hand onto the bed, and they sat cuddled against the headboard practicing breathing. They kissed some more. The room was warm and still, and Yifan wanted to hang on to this mood, where his heart beat round, sunk, solid as Lu Han’s air tight grip around his arms. But he had wanted to get things on too, and the night was going even if it’ll only come back again, and by the next night he wished to know one more way to make Lu Han call his name. To make him happy.
It wasn’t hard to touch him, it was just hard not to talk while doing it, because the flipbook of things that’d gone past went anything from “hold on to my shoulder” to “I wish I could hear you say ‘I love you’”, and Yifan always knew honesty was going to be a conscious endeavor.
---------
Subject: “Eat My Ass”
how is work? : )
RE: “Eat My Ass”
how was breakfast? : )
RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
your ass was better : )
RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
those green peppers died in vain
RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
yes they were “green” and they were PEPPERS, i had to drink our last water AND beer supply, did i really deserve that? did those eggs really deserve that, lu han?
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
i told you NOT to eat my ass, your fault if nothing tastes good now
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
look i took a picture
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
NO yifan come on
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
IMG_0165.jpg
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
is that a dog?
Subject: “we got a problem”
so...jesus. I don’t know how to say this but…it looks like I was on the wrong tab for mail and chanyeol asked me for a picture of one of the little ones who just got rid of her cone and…
Lu Han never replied. He also never came home that night, although Yifan stayed up for an hour or 8 downing the peace-offering Vodka he picked up on the way back, thinking about a lot of things. Like, first, sardonically how much he deserved this right now, how much he shouldn’t have ate his ass, how Lu Han was still holding out on sharing his ultimate kink and this was a not even close stab in the dark. And then how he’d probably lose a bit of trust fucking up, even if he did later find the picture of his lover’s asshole in the drafts. All the things it’s taken for him to win it, how important it is, the knowledge that Lu Han will be coming back. That this hole in the wall was still the hole he chose in all the holes, in all the walls of Vancouver. Then he started thinking about holes and around then he poured himself another shot. When that’s cycled three or four times he began thinking about all the past relationships he’s had, and how maybe it was time for a new job, or his mom or Guangzhou and his friends from college. Eventually he fell asleep, and when he woke up he realized it wasn’t Saturday, it was Friday, and he had a hangover and he couldn’t even rip open the curtains to reaffirm, by geometry of the sunbeams, just how right his clock was in calling him irresponsible. “I messed up,” he left through voicemail, through his headache, before falling back on the couch, feeling his stomach and bladder slosh before blacking out again.
When he came to again Lu Han was wandering around the house, and he felt a little spirit on his exposed stomach evaporate. Pffrt, like an evaporating fart sound, in the first three seconds of his consciousness. It was gone, and he felt the moment he lied his head back down that he was no longer lying on needles, or a hot air balloon. Lu Han was dragging his feet. “Where did you go?” He croaked.
“Casino.”
“Did you sleep well?”
He kept dragging his feet. Yifan heard some glass clinkering, and he wanted to look up before suddenly a foot stepped right on his bladder, and he screamed and snapped up like a mousetrap before the rush of wind took over his vision, and a crackle of thunder split his brain into fifths. He fell off the couch, curled fetal, and Lu Han plopped himself into the human warmed cushion, kicking a sockless foot on the table above Yifan’s writhing face.
“I won enough at the Copper Dropper to buy you mouthwash.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“How’re you gonna make up for the mental damage?”
He didn’t know, but he did know Lu Han had been fucking sobbing at the end of the night, so he was sure it was all empty threats. They were both learning to work around each other.
When he came back from the washroom, he joined Lu Han on the couch. “Let’s go on a date.”
It was Friday, and unbelievably Lu Han called Yifan’s office when he got home and found him, so the day was theirs. They could drive somewhere far, like the suspension bridge up north, or collect sanded bottle shards at English Bay, or go shopping downtown and watch the sunset on the waterfront. They could venture along Burrard and buy a buttplug. They could return to his family home, or scrape the gravel of his old high school field, climb the fence and talk until sundown. In the end he takes Lu Han to the night market, and he spends ten dollars just to watch Lu Han dramatically enact a man suffocating in the huge floating balls in the pool game, filming him with chilly fingers, watching him smile as he slips and falls through his cellphone screen. They share a grilled squid skewer, fish balls, some dim sum, and a bubble tea. Among the plastic cherry blossom wish trees lit by LED’s Yifan takes out his phone for a selfie, and Lu Han poses with his half eaten rotato, Yifan behind him. He leans down and kisses Lu Han on the ear and snaps a picture. The light’s dim, but there’s something enchanting about the blurriness of the picture, how Lu Han’s eyes look darker and prettier, smile more everlasting, and the glow is of another dimension, and the two of them are simply passersby caught in a crossfire of illumination. Holding Lu Han like this could be eternal. They could be as eternal as the city, every year renewed, every season.
“Can I ask you to stay?” He says softly, rocking Lu Han side to side to the indiscernible music in the speakers.
After a while, Lu Han replies. “Yes, yes you can.”
“Stay.”
Lu Han doesn’t say another word, but it’s enough.
Fandom: EXO
Pairing: Kris/Luhan
Rating: R
Words: 2658
Summary: as eternal as vancity.
a/n: nothing much, i just think we all deserve some healing right now and i guess this strange explosion is my method
Lu Han’s takeout consisted of some 2 dish + rice lunchbox combos at the public market that he grabbed on his way back from Richmond. The whole car ride smelled like stewed eggplants, and he’d been planning on making up for the skipped lunch as soon as he got back, except he found Yifan in his work room watching something on his laptop with his back stiff and straight and probably hurting.
“When’s the last time you moved?” He flicked on the light. Yifan looked up from the screen, pausing whatever’s flashing color on his face. He looked zoned out, blinking a few times, stretching.
“At least two episodes…” He yawned, messing up his hair with both hands. Lu Han raised a brow, coming up behind to massage his shoulders, which fell loose by his hands almost instantly. The screen was paused on a shot of a car, but he knew Yifan was watching nothing but Breaking Bad lately.
“You came home early?”
He nodded, leaning back and sighing. “Yeah, one of my favorites got put down today.”
Lu Han swiveled him around, watching him. “Did you have to do it?”
“The owners wanted me to.”
Lu Han frowned down at him, and then pulled him into a hug. In a moment Yifan’s arms wound around his back, and right as he set the food down on the empty chair he was pulled forwards, knee sticking on the cushion where above is his man, shut eyed, pressed into his jacket, inhaling him. He smelled of the outdoors, the residential gardening, car seat leather. Yifan undid the buttons of his coat, sealing his hand on the thin cotton underneath, while Lu Han pulled up and sat with both knees folded on his lap.
“You want some dinner?”
Yifan shook his head. Lu Han leaned back, watching the hands wander, push the coat off his shoulders and onto the floorboards. Yifan rolled down the wrinkled sleeves Lu Han didn’t have time to take down before heading out the office today, then pulled the hem out from his pants. His hands slid under the steel blue bunch, and Lu Han slowed his breathing.
Yifan pushed back his hair until it somewhat stayed. They regarded each other, and Lu Han had a thought about dinner before lifting a hand to touch Yifan’s eyelids. He tried to close them but they shook, like a kid trying to fool his mom with a PSP under the pillow. Yifan hadn’t been sleeping well, last night Lu Han swapped pillows with him to try, but he ended up letting Yifan sleep on his arm until his biceps were numb in the morning. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with how little he talked about work lately, whether it’s the excitement of the transfer dying down for him or something troubling, but it was harder to fall asleep at night, distracted by the crickets, when Yifan didn’t whisper in the dark about the-
“Whoa-”
He said before he realized, and he felt it before he said it, the hand cupping around inside his briefs, pulling him out into the cavity between their upper bodies, an almond arch, Yifan bent forward with his face in his shoulder. His belt had come undone at some point he’d been wondering what Yifan needed, and…this was new, caught him entirely off guard. Lu Han’s hand shook as it wrapped around Yifan’s wrist, which was now dragging swiftly up the length of the twin cocks in his hand.
“Yifan…”
Yifan was burrowed in. He slid his hand to the beat of the pulse he heard in his ear, and it may have been his own or Lu Han’s, pounding through the jugular in his neck. Up and around, and then down, and squeezing, rolling his hips. Lu Han felt himself carried helplessly on his thighs, and his own hips stuttered, fucking into the warmth, the all-around slick of their skin. Yifan sucked on his neck, and he tightened his grip before loosening when Yifan’s hand jacked them beyond control, their cocks sliding past one another in his fist, friction like fire, and Yifan shot all over his hand, which dragged down and back twice more before Lu Han came too.
When they were cleaned up, Lu Han’s hips hurt, and so he gave up standing, left a boneless heap on Yifan’s lap. “Didn’t see that coming…” he muttered into his collar. Yifan kicked the chair around with his slippers on the carpet, and grabbed the food from the chair.
“I need to go wash my hands.”
Lu Han shook his head.
“Alright, then you need to feed me.”
What really made it unexpected for Lu Han was that it’d been three weeks since the last time they had sex, and the last time was the first time they had sex, which is just a joke, but that’s how it came to be for them. They hadn’t talked about it since, probably because it turned out way more passionate than anticipated, and they both got so shy it almost didn’t happen. About a week after when they were drinking at Karaoke with their crew and one of the guys gaped and asked about it Lu Han just shrugged it off like it was only natural, except Yifan knew the truth was that Lu Han had to physically text him “We have to have sex tomorrow night” in order to set a date for this thing neither of them actually knew how to fuckin start.
Ridiculous.
Anyone who knew the two of them back in their separate college times would laugh. Because it was Lu Han, freshman who had the balls to buy his girlfriend a dildo for Valentines and got rejected, and he ended up keeping it and some time in sophomore year came out as bisexual. This was the first story he told Yifan when they started drinking together, and at the time Yifan laughed and clapped him on the back. They were aware of each other’s sexual appetites, but somehow the words never formed until they damn clear did, and all Yifan could reply was “oh...ok”.
Not really though: he spent the whole day in his office thinking about dogs and sex, which was weird. He tried to fantasize and found he couldn’t about Lu Han the way he used to close his eyes and draw someone unknown, and it buzzed through him, the eagerness, the urgency. It buzzed through the nice, standard wine and dinner. It buzzed through a movie, where they made out below the couch and he couldn’t breathe. It buzzed throughout the shower, but it stopped the moment he came out and Lu Han walked in and cranked the tap, and he was in their bedroom all alone and suddenly very, very nervous. His heartbeat crashed…he wandered into the closet, suddenly self conscious. About the towel on his waist. About his big hands and big feet, the clues of childhood pimples on his back, his birthmarks, his gummy teeth, the corners of his mouth. His sweaty skin. His knee shape. Even the weird flat of the back of his head. He felt for some hanging pajamas, but they wouldn’t do, and he felt in the dark for the undies drawer but the washroom door was opening, and Lu Han dripped all the way out on the wooden floor. Yifan slid into the clothes before he realized he had, and then he held his breath and swallowed.
“Fan?”
The boards creaked a little. Yifan heard him walk around the bed, then he heard the bedroom door open, then swing closed again. A towel fluttered.
“Wu Yifan?” He didn’t know why he was hiding, but he knew he had to now, because if he responded Lu Han would ask him why and he just didn’t know in this moment, but he felt like he would know so, so soon, his heart was pounding out of his ears-
“I’m naked…?”
The fabrics muffled sound, but he could hear the teasing fell flat in Lu Han’s tone, a little lost and almost a little afraid. His foot stepped an inch and the wetness made a sound on the floor, and suddenly Lu Han was approaching.
“...Marco.” He whispered in the dark.
“Polo,” Yifan said, and then their hands brushed. In the soft light from outside Yifan could see he was naked as promised. He lifted his chin, and Lu Han was staring at him.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m nervous.” He laughed, sounding croaky. Lu Han was watching him, and he looked incredibly beautiful, and also contented and gentle, like in that moment you could tell him anything and he would have faith in God, and life, and the world good enough to believe you.
“Good.” He said. “Good. Me too.” And then they made out in the clothes, and then Lu Han took him by the hand onto the bed, and they sat cuddled against the headboard practicing breathing. They kissed some more. The room was warm and still, and Yifan wanted to hang on to this mood, where his heart beat round, sunk, solid as Lu Han’s air tight grip around his arms. But he had wanted to get things on too, and the night was going even if it’ll only come back again, and by the next night he wished to know one more way to make Lu Han call his name. To make him happy.
It wasn’t hard to touch him, it was just hard not to talk while doing it, because the flipbook of things that’d gone past went anything from “hold on to my shoulder” to “I wish I could hear you say ‘I love you’”, and Yifan always knew honesty was going to be a conscious endeavor.
---------
Subject: “Eat My Ass”
how is work? : )
RE: “Eat My Ass”
how was breakfast? : )
RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
your ass was better : )
RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
those green peppers died in vain
RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
yes they were “green” and they were PEPPERS, i had to drink our last water AND beer supply, did i really deserve that? did those eggs really deserve that, lu han?
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
i told you NOT to eat my ass, your fault if nothing tastes good now
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
look i took a picture
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
NO yifan come on
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
IMG_0165.jpg
RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Eat My Ass”
is that a dog?
Subject: “we got a problem”
so...jesus. I don’t know how to say this but…it looks like I was on the wrong tab for mail and chanyeol asked me for a picture of one of the little ones who just got rid of her cone and…
Lu Han never replied. He also never came home that night, although Yifan stayed up for an hour or 8 downing the peace-offering Vodka he picked up on the way back, thinking about a lot of things. Like, first, sardonically how much he deserved this right now, how much he shouldn’t have ate his ass, how Lu Han was still holding out on sharing his ultimate kink and this was a not even close stab in the dark. And then how he’d probably lose a bit of trust fucking up, even if he did later find the picture of his lover’s asshole in the drafts. All the things it’s taken for him to win it, how important it is, the knowledge that Lu Han will be coming back. That this hole in the wall was still the hole he chose in all the holes, in all the walls of Vancouver. Then he started thinking about holes and around then he poured himself another shot. When that’s cycled three or four times he began thinking about all the past relationships he’s had, and how maybe it was time for a new job, or his mom or Guangzhou and his friends from college. Eventually he fell asleep, and when he woke up he realized it wasn’t Saturday, it was Friday, and he had a hangover and he couldn’t even rip open the curtains to reaffirm, by geometry of the sunbeams, just how right his clock was in calling him irresponsible. “I messed up,” he left through voicemail, through his headache, before falling back on the couch, feeling his stomach and bladder slosh before blacking out again.
When he came to again Lu Han was wandering around the house, and he felt a little spirit on his exposed stomach evaporate. Pffrt, like an evaporating fart sound, in the first three seconds of his consciousness. It was gone, and he felt the moment he lied his head back down that he was no longer lying on needles, or a hot air balloon. Lu Han was dragging his feet. “Where did you go?” He croaked.
“Casino.”
“Did you sleep well?”
He kept dragging his feet. Yifan heard some glass clinkering, and he wanted to look up before suddenly a foot stepped right on his bladder, and he screamed and snapped up like a mousetrap before the rush of wind took over his vision, and a crackle of thunder split his brain into fifths. He fell off the couch, curled fetal, and Lu Han plopped himself into the human warmed cushion, kicking a sockless foot on the table above Yifan’s writhing face.
“I won enough at the Copper Dropper to buy you mouthwash.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“How’re you gonna make up for the mental damage?”
He didn’t know, but he did know Lu Han had been fucking sobbing at the end of the night, so he was sure it was all empty threats. They were both learning to work around each other.
When he came back from the washroom, he joined Lu Han on the couch. “Let’s go on a date.”
It was Friday, and unbelievably Lu Han called Yifan’s office when he got home and found him, so the day was theirs. They could drive somewhere far, like the suspension bridge up north, or collect sanded bottle shards at English Bay, or go shopping downtown and watch the sunset on the waterfront. They could venture along Burrard and buy a buttplug. They could return to his family home, or scrape the gravel of his old high school field, climb the fence and talk until sundown. In the end he takes Lu Han to the night market, and he spends ten dollars just to watch Lu Han dramatically enact a man suffocating in the huge floating balls in the pool game, filming him with chilly fingers, watching him smile as he slips and falls through his cellphone screen. They share a grilled squid skewer, fish balls, some dim sum, and a bubble tea. Among the plastic cherry blossom wish trees lit by LED’s Yifan takes out his phone for a selfie, and Lu Han poses with his half eaten rotato, Yifan behind him. He leans down and kisses Lu Han on the ear and snaps a picture. The light’s dim, but there’s something enchanting about the blurriness of the picture, how Lu Han’s eyes look darker and prettier, smile more everlasting, and the glow is of another dimension, and the two of them are simply passersby caught in a crossfire of illumination. Holding Lu Han like this could be eternal. They could be as eternal as the city, every year renewed, every season.
“Can I ask you to stay?” He says softly, rocking Lu Han side to side to the indiscernible music in the speakers.
After a while, Lu Han replies. “Yes, yes you can.”
“Stay.”
Lu Han doesn’t say another word, but it’s enough.