You Know It'll Shine Until We Fly
Title: You know it'll shine until we fly
Genre: Romance, fluff, slice of life
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing/Luhan
Rating: G
Length: Oneshot (1,200w)
A/N: Same verse as When This Is Guiding You Home and I Think That's How I Make Things Feel Alright
Song: "Shine" by Benjamin Francis Leftwich
It’s a lazy Sunday morning, this particular day. A gap in the curtains allows a soft vein of morning light to slide into the room, resting across the wide bed and the men within it.
Luhan’s eyes blink open, then shut again, and his brain lazily slips into gear in the comfort of the pillows. In front of him, Yixing has shifted away during the night, spreadeagled over far more than his third of the bed, but his arm is caught between Luhan’s wrists where they lie beside his face. Behind him, Jongdae’s knees jut into the backs of his thighs; his steady breathing tickles the soft hairs on the nape of his neck; one hand rests on Luhan’s bare ribs where it’s pushed his shirt up, twitching slightly in a dream.
There is nothing to do today.
So Luhan smiles to himself, slides his fingers between Yixing’s, pulls Jongdae’s arm further around his waist, and sinks back into slumber.
When he wakes again, his hand is cold and Yixing is gone. A light, ceramic clatter betrays his location in the kitchen. The sounds draw Luhan conscious, the stiffness in his muscles all that keeps him from full wakefulness. He turns slowly beneath Jongdae’s arm, a smile climbing onto his face at the sight of him, determinedly remaining asleep at an hour that, on any other day of the week, would be unacceptable.
An almost painful satisfaction sinks to the depths of Luhan’s stomach. He is so beautiful, sleep revealing the softness at his edges, the vulnerability that he always, constantly, places aside in the face of Luhan’s own. It’s been years, and Luhan is still in love.
It’s been years, and he is still in awe of what he has.
He kisses his nose gently and extracts himself, clambering off the mattress and fondly pulling the quilt up over Jongdae’s shoulders. Jongdae lets out a soft groan and curls the edge under his chin, burying his face further into the pillows.
Luhan can feel his heart melting, so he turns away quickly and pads out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Yixing has music playing from his computer on the bench top as he checks his phone and waits for the coffee machine to warm up. He looks up with a grin when Luhan comes in, bare chested, sweatpants riding down over his hips. Luhan is the opposite, worn tee barely covering bare legs stretching down to socks hanging half off his feet.
Luhan beams back, quickly crossing the room to Yixing’s outstretched arms and diving into his embrace, burying his face in his skin.
“So warm,” Yixing murmurs easily, swaying in time with the gentle beat of the song; he raises his right hand up to rest with a comforting weight on the back of Luhan’s head. Luhan pulls his arm away and slides it down Yixing’s wrist, pressing their palms together and pulling him away from the sink. They dance around the kitchen, soft footsteps on the floorboards, the promise of the whole day ahead of them twinkling in the specks that float in the sunbeams pouring into the kitchen and the ring of the guitar filling the air.
I hope you find a love that’s true
So the morning light can shine on you
I hope you find what you’re looking for
So your heart is warm forever more
The song fades out and Yixing pushes Luhan’s hair back, drops a kiss to his forehead. Luhan blushes like he never forgot how, belying his age, belying how long they’d been together, as though he’s only just realizing how lucky he is. He steps forward once, presses his hips into Yixing’s, and brings both hands up to cup his face. Yixing’s eyes take a few hours to fully open in the mornings, like the wrinkles of his eyelids need to figure out what they’re doing before they smooth out and accept the day. Luhan finds himself marvelling that he’s had the opportunity to find that out - then he marvels that Yixing just gazes back at him levelly, allowing him the time to marvel at all.
“I’m in love with you,” he whispers like it’s a discovery.
Yixing’s cheeks pull his thumbs up with his smile, and he leans down to kiss him properly. Luhan lets himself be gathered up, engulfed in Yixing’s adoration.
“You make my life worth something,” he responds, and Luhan shivers. He knows these thoughts are present in Yixing’s head, he’s a poet by trade, and his songs are probably playing elsewhere at that very moment, the soundtrack to someone else’s lazy morning in with their lover. But it’s something else to know that the sentiment is meant for him. It’s something heavy and golden to have the words gifted to him in private where nobody else can appropriate them. They’re his.
“Coffee?”
“Mm.” Luhan nods, removing his hands, lingering just for a moment. “I’ll see if Jongdae is awake.”
“Okay.” Yixing turns away and heads to the fridge. Jongdae takes his coffee with milk, and lots of foam; Luhan teases him about the appreciation of a good roast and bastardization of a perfectly good beverage, and Jongdae pretends that he doesn’t know Luhan loves kissing the milky moustache off his face.
Jongdae is not awake, but he stirs when Luhan settles on the bed beside him and rubs his shoulder. He strokes his bed hair off his face and smiles when his eyes open, pinching his cheek and enjoying the wrinkles of Jongdae’s nose. “Good morning.”
Jongdae hums, trapping Luhan’s hand against his chest and curling the other way to nuzzle into his leg. “No.”
“You want to keep sleeping?”
“Yeah.”
“But Yixing’s making coffee.”
“But I’m comfortable.”
Luhan chuckles, bends down, kisses Jongdae’s fingers. “Come on. You can nap on the couch. I’ll sing for you.”
Jongdae opens his eyes again and gazes up at him lovingly. Luhan feels his breath hitch.
“You’re beautiful,” Jongdae murmurs after a long moment, “I’m lucky to wake up to you every day.”
Luhan bites his grin down, and pulls the quilt over Jongdae’s head to hide his embarrassment. He revels in his squawk, tumbling off the bed as he struggles, then rests his chin on the edge of the mattress as Jongdae emerges and cheekily kisses his nose.
“Are you awake now?”
“Oh my god.”
Luhan laughs, and stays silent as Jongdae watches him in confusion as he wraps him up in the blanket and picks him up off the bed. He tucks the edges of the blanket up and around Jongdae’s frame and his own shoulders so he doesn’t trip on it as he carries him out to the kitchen.
“He’s up,” he announces, and Yixing chuckles, leaving his espresso to cradle Jongdae’s face and kiss him good morning. Luhan waits patiently, arms straining with the weight, but he doesn’t mind. He’d want nothing more.
Jongdae requests to be let down and Luhan obliges, carting him to the next room and depositing him on the couch, curling up beside him and ducking under the quilt. Yixing turns up the music in the kitchen so they can hear. Luhan hums along, pressing Jongdae’s cheek into his collarbone and tapping out the beat on his spine.
It’s not long before Yixing is done, arranging coasters with his foot, hands full of coffee, and places their drinks on the table. He leaves them to cool and helps himself to the excess of blanket on Jongdae’s other side.
His arms are strong and warm around them both. Jongdae sighs contentedly and kisses Luhan’s neck. Yixing closes his eyes.
There is nothing to do today.
Genre: Romance, fluff, slice of life
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing/Luhan
Rating: G
Length: Oneshot (1,200w)
A/N: Same verse as When This Is Guiding You Home and I Think That's How I Make Things Feel Alright
Song: "Shine" by Benjamin Francis Leftwich
It’s a lazy Sunday morning, this particular day. A gap in the curtains allows a soft vein of morning light to slide into the room, resting across the wide bed and the men within it.
Luhan’s eyes blink open, then shut again, and his brain lazily slips into gear in the comfort of the pillows. In front of him, Yixing has shifted away during the night, spreadeagled over far more than his third of the bed, but his arm is caught between Luhan’s wrists where they lie beside his face. Behind him, Jongdae’s knees jut into the backs of his thighs; his steady breathing tickles the soft hairs on the nape of his neck; one hand rests on Luhan’s bare ribs where it’s pushed his shirt up, twitching slightly in a dream.
There is nothing to do today.
So Luhan smiles to himself, slides his fingers between Yixing’s, pulls Jongdae’s arm further around his waist, and sinks back into slumber.
When he wakes again, his hand is cold and Yixing is gone. A light, ceramic clatter betrays his location in the kitchen. The sounds draw Luhan conscious, the stiffness in his muscles all that keeps him from full wakefulness. He turns slowly beneath Jongdae’s arm, a smile climbing onto his face at the sight of him, determinedly remaining asleep at an hour that, on any other day of the week, would be unacceptable.
An almost painful satisfaction sinks to the depths of Luhan’s stomach. He is so beautiful, sleep revealing the softness at his edges, the vulnerability that he always, constantly, places aside in the face of Luhan’s own. It’s been years, and Luhan is still in love.
It’s been years, and he is still in awe of what he has.
He kisses his nose gently and extracts himself, clambering off the mattress and fondly pulling the quilt up over Jongdae’s shoulders. Jongdae lets out a soft groan and curls the edge under his chin, burying his face further into the pillows.
Luhan can feel his heart melting, so he turns away quickly and pads out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Yixing has music playing from his computer on the bench top as he checks his phone and waits for the coffee machine to warm up. He looks up with a grin when Luhan comes in, bare chested, sweatpants riding down over his hips. Luhan is the opposite, worn tee barely covering bare legs stretching down to socks hanging half off his feet.
Luhan beams back, quickly crossing the room to Yixing’s outstretched arms and diving into his embrace, burying his face in his skin.
“So warm,” Yixing murmurs easily, swaying in time with the gentle beat of the song; he raises his right hand up to rest with a comforting weight on the back of Luhan’s head. Luhan pulls his arm away and slides it down Yixing’s wrist, pressing their palms together and pulling him away from the sink. They dance around the kitchen, soft footsteps on the floorboards, the promise of the whole day ahead of them twinkling in the specks that float in the sunbeams pouring into the kitchen and the ring of the guitar filling the air.
I hope you find a love that’s true
So the morning light can shine on you
I hope you find what you’re looking for
So your heart is warm forever more
The song fades out and Yixing pushes Luhan’s hair back, drops a kiss to his forehead. Luhan blushes like he never forgot how, belying his age, belying how long they’d been together, as though he’s only just realizing how lucky he is. He steps forward once, presses his hips into Yixing’s, and brings both hands up to cup his face. Yixing’s eyes take a few hours to fully open in the mornings, like the wrinkles of his eyelids need to figure out what they’re doing before they smooth out and accept the day. Luhan finds himself marvelling that he’s had the opportunity to find that out - then he marvels that Yixing just gazes back at him levelly, allowing him the time to marvel at all.
“I’m in love with you,” he whispers like it’s a discovery.
Yixing’s cheeks pull his thumbs up with his smile, and he leans down to kiss him properly. Luhan lets himself be gathered up, engulfed in Yixing’s adoration.
“You make my life worth something,” he responds, and Luhan shivers. He knows these thoughts are present in Yixing’s head, he’s a poet by trade, and his songs are probably playing elsewhere at that very moment, the soundtrack to someone else’s lazy morning in with their lover. But it’s something else to know that the sentiment is meant for him. It’s something heavy and golden to have the words gifted to him in private where nobody else can appropriate them. They’re his.
“Coffee?”
“Mm.” Luhan nods, removing his hands, lingering just for a moment. “I’ll see if Jongdae is awake.”
“Okay.” Yixing turns away and heads to the fridge. Jongdae takes his coffee with milk, and lots of foam; Luhan teases him about the appreciation of a good roast and bastardization of a perfectly good beverage, and Jongdae pretends that he doesn’t know Luhan loves kissing the milky moustache off his face.
Jongdae is not awake, but he stirs when Luhan settles on the bed beside him and rubs his shoulder. He strokes his bed hair off his face and smiles when his eyes open, pinching his cheek and enjoying the wrinkles of Jongdae’s nose. “Good morning.”
Jongdae hums, trapping Luhan’s hand against his chest and curling the other way to nuzzle into his leg. “No.”
“You want to keep sleeping?”
“Yeah.”
“But Yixing’s making coffee.”
“But I’m comfortable.”
Luhan chuckles, bends down, kisses Jongdae’s fingers. “Come on. You can nap on the couch. I’ll sing for you.”
Jongdae opens his eyes again and gazes up at him lovingly. Luhan feels his breath hitch.
“You’re beautiful,” Jongdae murmurs after a long moment, “I’m lucky to wake up to you every day.”
Luhan bites his grin down, and pulls the quilt over Jongdae’s head to hide his embarrassment. He revels in his squawk, tumbling off the bed as he struggles, then rests his chin on the edge of the mattress as Jongdae emerges and cheekily kisses his nose.
“Are you awake now?”
“Oh my god.”
Luhan laughs, and stays silent as Jongdae watches him in confusion as he wraps him up in the blanket and picks him up off the bed. He tucks the edges of the blanket up and around Jongdae’s frame and his own shoulders so he doesn’t trip on it as he carries him out to the kitchen.
“He’s up,” he announces, and Yixing chuckles, leaving his espresso to cradle Jongdae’s face and kiss him good morning. Luhan waits patiently, arms straining with the weight, but he doesn’t mind. He’d want nothing more.
Jongdae requests to be let down and Luhan obliges, carting him to the next room and depositing him on the couch, curling up beside him and ducking under the quilt. Yixing turns up the music in the kitchen so they can hear. Luhan hums along, pressing Jongdae’s cheek into his collarbone and tapping out the beat on his spine.
It’s not long before Yixing is done, arranging coasters with his foot, hands full of coffee, and places their drinks on the table. He leaves them to cool and helps himself to the excess of blanket on Jongdae’s other side.
His arms are strong and warm around them both. Jongdae sighs contentedly and kisses Luhan’s neck. Yixing closes his eyes.
There is nothing to do today.