fic: once bitten, twice shy [exo]
once bitten, twice shy
yixing/luhan; pg-13; 3300
yixing’s never been prone to jealousy but luhan’s always been the exception. canon.
once bitten, twice shy
Yixing thinks that if Luhan laughs obnoxiously loud at whatever it is that Sehun is saying one more time, he’s going to throw the knife in his hand right at his head. 50 points if it hits him right in the head, 25 if he gets his back.
“Wow, slow down there, I don’t think SM will want to explain why EXO-M’s lead dancer is missing a finger,” Jongdae cautions next to Yixing. He’s grinning though, as if he knows what’s going on in Yixing’s head and that makes Yixing scowl.
“Go do something useful,” Yixing dismisses him, but he does slow down in his slicing, realising that he already has too many carrots. He doesn’t, however, stop glaring in the general direction of Luhan and Sehun. Jongdae seems to take this as a cue to keep going.
“Yixing uses heat wave, it’s super effective,” Jongdae laughs, dodging the elbow Yixing shoves in his direction. “Although you should be careful, it’s hard finding new maknaes on short notice, you know.”
“If you don’t want me to add five times the regular hot sauce to all your food from now on, I would suggest shutting up,” Yixing smiles sweetly, satisfied with the way Jongdae’s face falls. He moves away to help Kyungsoo with the potatoes, Jongdae finally leaving the kitchen.
Turned away from the living room, Yixing attempts to focus his thoughts on something else except the ugly gnawing in his chest won’t go away. It’s not even that Yixing is prone to jealousy but they’ve been back in Korea for a while now, preparing for the comeback and Yixing gets less and less time with Luhan. He knows it shouldn’t bother him so much but it does. Worse yet is how embarrassed he feels.
Sighing at how childish he’s being, Yixing sneaks a glance back at Luhan, only to find his boyfriend with his head on Sehun’s shoulder. Kyungsoo yelps when he throws his knife into the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth as he heads for the door out of EXO-K’s dorm. Minseok could help with dinner.
Rather than Luhan, it’s Wu Fan who comes and finds him sulking in his room, lying face first in his bed, headphones in as he listens to some playlist Jongin added onto his iPod earlier in the week. The blend of dubstep and hiphop is oddly calming, Yixing imaging possible choreography to the songs as they blend into one another. He’s tired, a day’s worth of dance practise settling into the cracks between his bones.
“You okay?” Wu Fan asks, leaning against the door frame. Yixing just shrugs, still angry at himself, at Luhan. He can’t quite blame Sehun for anything but the bitterness that sits on his tongue is a bit hard to swallow.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed sulking like a teenage girl so much,” he continues, pushing off the frame and making his way over to Yixing’s prone body.
“Shut up,” Yixing says, a terribly weak comeback for him but he’s too tired to be particularly witty right now and strangely, he’s craving Luhan’s attention when usually it’s the other way around. This doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel a wave of embarrassment wash over him when Wu Fan chuckles.
“That’s pretty weak, Zhang,” Wu Fan says with a raised eyebrow. Yixing knows what he’s silently asking, what’s wrong? but he doesn’t quite feel like whining like a teenage girl too. The sulking is enough for one day.
“I’m fine, go eat dinner,” Yixing tells Wu Fan, pulling up at his blankets. He feels chilly all of a sudden but Wu Fan stops him by sitting down on the bed next to Yixing. The glare he sends Wu Fan’s way goes ignored and instead, Wu Fan places a flat palm on Yixing’s back. “Sehun only thinks of Luhan as an older brother.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Yixing sighs, annoyed. A part of him can’t believe that he’s being this obvious but then Wu Fan is perceptive enough.
“Then why’d you leave?”
“I wanted to be alone.”
“You left in the middle of helping with dinner, that’s not like you.” The hand is rubbing soothing circles into his back now and damn Wu Fan for knowing what calms Yixing down.
“Well, I guess I’m not as predictable as you think I am then.”
Wu Fan sighs, the look on his face somewhat disappointed. Yixing likes giving Wu Fan a hard time but not in this way. Usually he can manage to tell him what’s wrong, if, perhaps, after whatever’s bothering him has passed.
“I’m going to send Luhan to come talk to you if you don’t tell me.”
“Go ahead, I’m not saying fuck all to him.”
“Yixing.” Wu Fan’s voice is steady but there’s a weary edge to it.
“It’s nothing, stop worrying so much. You do that all that shit for your face to keep the wrinkles away, don’t you? Stop sabotaging your efforts.” This gets him a smack and a tired laugh, which is enough for Yixing. He shoves at Wu Fan, eyeing the door and Wu Fan sighs before heading out of the room.
“Give him a really hard time, for me,” Wu Fan grins and Yixing can’t help but smile back, nodding. “Of course, duizhang, for you.”
Yixing feels the bed sink next to him, and he knows subconsciously that it’s Luhan before he even opens his eyes. Luhan’s body is cold, as it always is, hands freezing as they brush against Yixing’s bare skin.
“Go sleep in your own bed,” Yixing grumbles, pulling his sheets away from Luhan and glaring as best he can through his sleep fuddled eyes.
“...what?” Luhan asks, and he’s gone suddenly very still. For a brief second Yixing feels bad but then the image of him laughing with Sehun pops back right up and he feels upset again.
“I said, go sleep in your own bed,” Yixing repeats himself, louder this time, surer.
“Why?” Luhan asks, still not moving. Yixing gives him a shove until he falls off the bed and smiles in satisfaction when Luhan let’s out a loud yelp. He’s been shoved out of his own bed by Luhan, let alone even made it into Luhan’s.
“Because you suck,” Yixing tosses out at him, before turning his back to Luhan’s bewildered face and closing his eyes. He almost feels better.
Preparations for their comeback basically translate to Yixing gritting his teeth through his back pain when they’re going through their tenth hour of dance practise with their choreographer pushing them to go a little longer. Yixing’s done fourteen hour practise days but back then, his back didn’t start acting up five or six hours in. Even with all the time off from promotions he hasn’t really gotten a chance to rest and when Yixing glances over at Jongin, he looks even worse for wear. They all do.
“Take a quick ten minute break,” their manager yells at them from the door, before disappearing and everyone in the room near collapses to the floor. Yixing manages to make it to the wall before he sinks to down, wincing when the pain in his back intensifies briefly.
“You okay?” Luhan asks him, concern evident. Usually Yixing would find it comforting but he’s tired and still irritated by Luhan spending so much time with Sehun. He’d spent the majority of the day hanging off of his arm, shooting Yixing a glance every now and then.
“Fine,” he breathes, looking around for his water bottle. When he notices that it’s empty he sighs in resignation, swallowing around his parched throat.
“Here, have mine,” Luhan offers, and Yixing only takes it because Luhan is practically shoving it in his face.
“How kind of you.” Yixing knows he shouldn’t be so sarcastic but the bitterness is getting the better of him and he’s going to blame this all on how tired he is. He knows Luhan will take his harder than he should but Yixing is tired of only being sought out when no one else will give Luhan the attention he wants.
“You’re being kind of annoying,” Luhan says, blunt and to the point, if only with Yixing. “If I did something to upset you, just tell me.”
“Or maybe you can figure it out on your own for once.” Yixing throws the water bottle back at Luhan, still unopened, rising to his feet and leaving him by the wall. Jongin gives him a tired smile when he sits down next to him spread out like a starfish on the floor.
Yixing keeps his eyes determinedly fixed on Jongin’s rising chest and not Luhan’s quiet figure in the corner.
“So what’s up with you ignoring your boyfriend, huh? I thought you guys were going to get married and have like seven kids,” Jongdae asks him as he flops down onto the couch next to Yixing.
“I’m not ignoring him,” Yixing replies, focusing on the composition in his hands. He ignores the flush that rises to his cheeks as well.
“Right, and I can fly.” Jongdae snatches the composition out of his hands and Yixing gives him a dirty look but he waits for whatever other nonsense he has to say. “I’m only asking because he won’t fucking stop bothering me about it.”
Snorting, Yixing takes back his composition and really, he isn’t even surprised. “He’s such a dumbass.”
“No arguments there,” Jongdae hums but he nudges Yixing gently, slightly less pestering this time. “Is this because of that day in the kitchen?”
“This is because of a lot of things,” Yixing answers and he knows the answer is unsatisfactory but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t quite know either, really.
They’re at the airport, headed out for some award show and maybe Yixing would care more if his bones didn’t creak with every step he took forward and his head didn’t throb in tune to the girls screaming all around him. Perhaps staying to practise until two in the morning wasn’t his best idea. And of course, this is the day he forgets to bring his iPod.
Usually he has Luhan to remind him of everything he needs to grab, going through a quick check list with Yixing but they haven’t really spoken since Yixing snapped at him in practise. He doesn't blame Luhan, not really, but the numb ache in his heart is turning vicious as he watches Sehun wrap an arm around his shoulders.
This never used to bother him, and he is nearly more furious with himself than he is with Luhan for forgetting that he’s still here.
“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks him, quiet but his presence next to Yixing is welcome. He only nods though, smiling because Kyungsoo has always been particularly kind.
Kyungsoo sticks to his side until they make it past the gates, where Chanyeol steals him away to take to a nearby magazine stand. Yixing doesn’t mind, sinking into an empty seat in the waiting area for their flight.
To his surprise, Luhan joins him, popping up out of nowhere. He offers Yixing a smile, which Yixing returns but it’s strained, even if the small gesture is already thawing his heart.
“I heard you forgot your iPod,” Luhan comments, conversational in his approach. He grabs Yixing’s hand then, flipping it over to place his own in Yixing’s palm. “Borrow mine.”
“Thanks,” Yixing says, wishing he could hold Luhan’s hand but there are fans even here, the ones who purchase plane tickets to stalk them even on the planes themselves. He shrugs it off, the lesson that they were commodities to be consumed and not people to be respected one of the first Yixing had understood.
Still, with Luhan sitting next to him, shoulder brushing Yixing’s, he thinks back to when they’d first started out, when Yixing had just been Yixing, with no Luhan to attach himself too. Before, when they’d been inseparable friends, the slow burn of wanting more like years spent waiting in too hot practise rooms for a chance to debut. He wonders how they’ve devolved back to this, if it’s all his fault.
He digs out his headphones, the emergency pair he keeps in his matching backpack with Luhan, and hands one ear bud to Luhan, leaning against his shoulder just the slightest bit more. The upwards curl of Luhan’s mouth doesn’t go unnoticed.
Yixing flops down onto his bed, sighing. He knows the shower won’t be free for another hour, Wu Fan’s stupid skin regimen taking up near half that time. Jongdae’s still not in the room, which is why Yixing turns to look curiously at the door when someone knocks. It’s Luhan.
“Hey,” he murmurs, looking a little nervous at the door, which is unusual for Luhan who always looks sure of himself or as lost as Yixing. They’re two sides of the same coin, after all.
“Hey,” Yixing smiles, genuinely because he can still feel the warmth in his chest from earlier, when Luhan had worried over him like a mother. So maybe sometimes Yixing liked feeling spoiled.
“Can I come in?” Luhan still sounds hesitant so Yixing nods, murmuring an, “Of course.”
Luhan looks something like an actual deer now, trepid and nervous as he shuffles into the room. Yixing supposes that he’s the cause of this himself, a hunter waiting to shoot his prey down but maybe all Yixing’s ever wanted was to sink his teeth into Luhan’s skin and carry him home.
By the time Luhan’s within Yixing’s reach, Yixing has risen off his bed a little, not too comfortable with placing his weight on his elbows, the curve in his back agitating. But he offers Luhan a hand which Luhan takes readily, smiling more so with his eyes than his mouth. The invitation hangs in the air until Yixing shuffles over a little and Luhan, eyes widening, grins as he climbs into Yixing’s bed after him, warm body pressing against Yixing’s.
He can safely say he’s missed this, missed curling up next to Luhan and just breathing him in. Today he smells like sweat but that’s okay, so does Yixing.
“I missed you,” he whispers, and Yixing smiles, wrapping an arm around Luhan’s lean waist, pulling him in a little tighter. Luhan’s always been forward, unlike Yixing, who sometimes falters over what he wants to say, too indecisive to really come to a conclusion.
“Good,” he mumbles into the skin of Luhan’s neck and he would kiss it, maybe even lick the sweat right off but he still wants to ease back into this. There’s hesitation bubbling across the surface of his heart and Yixing’s always blindly believed in going with his intuition.
Luhan laughs though, a warm, comforting sound Yixing’s also missed. It vibrates through Luhan until Yixing can feel the aftershock tingling beneath his skin. “How’s your back?”
Yixing knows Luhan worries about Yixing more than Yixing worries about himself, too caught up in trying to be perfect, in never letting his bandmates or fans down. Luhan is much better at saying enough is enough -- well, sometimes.
He lies, sure that a night’s rest would make him feel better in the morning. “I’m fine.”
“That’s code for ‘it hurts like fuck,’ right?” Luhan’s smiling but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Yixing sighs, knows he’s lost this one before it even began.
“It’s not like you worrying over it is going to make it better,” Yixing tells him wryly. He doesn’t mean to be so negative, usually trying his best to keep to his can-do attitude.
“No, but I can give you a massage,” Luhan says, moving away from Yixing before he can even reply. “Be right back!”
Yixing thinks about hiding under his covers but he’s both too lazy to move and too tired and by the time he thinks he’s made a decision, Luhan’s back with a little glass bottle of oil in his hands.
Despite Yixing’s efforts to be as little cooperative as possible, Luhan manages to get Yixing’s shirt up past his sternum, cold hands spreading like ice across his back. He winces at the initial pressure, cold oil quickly heating up as Luhan works his hands into Yixing’s aching muscles.
Sighing, Yixing relaxes into the touches, biting back a groan whenever Luhan presses too hard, bringing dulled pain shrieking to the surface. His fingers curl into fists, exhaling only when Luhan’s fingers smooth out kinks in his mid back, thumb tracing gently over his bruised lower back.
“Does it hurt?” Luhan whispers, leaning over Yixing’s head. His breath is unbearably hot and Yixing knows where this is headed, he should have anticipated it.
“Kind of,” Yixing answers.
The kiss pressed to the back of his neck has him squirming away, Luhan’s laughter filling the room as Yixing covers his neck with a cold hand. “Asshole.”
“Hey be nice to the guy giving you a massage,” Luhan teases, and Yixing can imagine the pout he’s put on.
“I think I’m good, thanks,” Yixing retorts. “Besides, I need to go shower.”
“Oh, okay,” Luhan’s voice sounds a little small but Yixing isn’t really up for anything tonight, even if he thinks he’s mostly over whatever stupid hangup he had over Sehun and Luhan. He can’t exactly keep acting like this, and he really doesn’t want to, the twinkle in Luhan’s eyes somewhat dimmed since their not-quite-a-fight fight. Besides which, Luhan had been hovering around him almost 24/7 since, offering him portions of his food, even his neck rest when they’d been on the plane back from Hong Kong.
Luhan gets off of Yixing, warmth of his body gone from Yixing and he shivers before pushing his shirt down and rising off his bed. He studies Luhan, small, round face unreadable save the frustration and fear in his eyes.
Yixing didn’t think that things had gotten so dramatic but he pushes Luhan back onto his bed, smiling softly. “Stay.”
His eyes widen, fear replaced by hope and Yixing can’t help himself this time, leaning down and kissing Luhan chastly. “Thanks.”
“Can’t be mad at you forever, I guess,” Yixing says, as he leaves the room. Maybe he should explain why he’s been so upset. Maybe later.
Yixing follows Luhan to his room, fingers laced together loosely. They’ve snuck away from the rest of the group, leaving them behind in EXO-K’s living room as loud and obnoxious as ever. He recalls sharing a dorm room with Luhan when they’d been trainees, split apart later and he’d thought maybe the space would do them some good. Now he wishes he could spend every second infused to Luhan’s side, breathing in the same air. It’s a little twisted, even inside his head but Yixing has a small tendency to be obsessive.
He expects Luhan to drag him to Wu Fan’s bed but he doesn’t, pushing Yixing down onto his own. The surprise on his features must be obvious because Luahn laughs, a charming sound and Yixing wonders how he stayed angry so long.
“Wu Fan told me, you know,” Luhan whispers, straddling Yixing’s hips.
“Told you what?” Yixing asks, licking his bottom lip in anticipation.
“About you getting all jealous,” he murmurs, kissing Yixing slowly, mouth warm and wet, teeth nipping at Yixing’s lips.
“That fucker,” Yixing breathes but it’s more of a shudder, Luhan’s hands slipping underneath his thin t-shirt.
“You should have just told me.” Luhan’s lips are smooth and soft and Yixing likes them best, likes how they get so pink when Yixing’s bitten down on them until they are swollen sore.
“It was stupid,” he says, arching upwards into Luhan’s mouth, needy and wanting more.
“Even if it was,” Luhan says between pressing open mouthed kisses to Yixing’s neck, fingers finding a nipple to pinch tight. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Yixing mumbles into Luhan’s mouth, stifling a moan when Luhan bites down on his collarbone.
He’s missed this the most.
- originally written for sncj-santa here
- not sure how much i like this but eh
- thankyou for reading! ♥
yixing/luhan; pg-13; 3300
yixing’s never been prone to jealousy but luhan’s always been the exception. canon.
once bitten, twice shy
Yixing thinks that if Luhan laughs obnoxiously loud at whatever it is that Sehun is saying one more time, he’s going to throw the knife in his hand right at his head. 50 points if it hits him right in the head, 25 if he gets his back.
“Wow, slow down there, I don’t think SM will want to explain why EXO-M’s lead dancer is missing a finger,” Jongdae cautions next to Yixing. He’s grinning though, as if he knows what’s going on in Yixing’s head and that makes Yixing scowl.
“Go do something useful,” Yixing dismisses him, but he does slow down in his slicing, realising that he already has too many carrots. He doesn’t, however, stop glaring in the general direction of Luhan and Sehun. Jongdae seems to take this as a cue to keep going.
“Yixing uses heat wave, it’s super effective,” Jongdae laughs, dodging the elbow Yixing shoves in his direction. “Although you should be careful, it’s hard finding new maknaes on short notice, you know.”
“If you don’t want me to add five times the regular hot sauce to all your food from now on, I would suggest shutting up,” Yixing smiles sweetly, satisfied with the way Jongdae’s face falls. He moves away to help Kyungsoo with the potatoes, Jongdae finally leaving the kitchen.
Turned away from the living room, Yixing attempts to focus his thoughts on something else except the ugly gnawing in his chest won’t go away. It’s not even that Yixing is prone to jealousy but they’ve been back in Korea for a while now, preparing for the comeback and Yixing gets less and less time with Luhan. He knows it shouldn’t bother him so much but it does. Worse yet is how embarrassed he feels.
Sighing at how childish he’s being, Yixing sneaks a glance back at Luhan, only to find his boyfriend with his head on Sehun’s shoulder. Kyungsoo yelps when he throws his knife into the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth as he heads for the door out of EXO-K’s dorm. Minseok could help with dinner.
Rather than Luhan, it’s Wu Fan who comes and finds him sulking in his room, lying face first in his bed, headphones in as he listens to some playlist Jongin added onto his iPod earlier in the week. The blend of dubstep and hiphop is oddly calming, Yixing imaging possible choreography to the songs as they blend into one another. He’s tired, a day’s worth of dance practise settling into the cracks between his bones.
“You okay?” Wu Fan asks, leaning against the door frame. Yixing just shrugs, still angry at himself, at Luhan. He can’t quite blame Sehun for anything but the bitterness that sits on his tongue is a bit hard to swallow.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed sulking like a teenage girl so much,” he continues, pushing off the frame and making his way over to Yixing’s prone body.
“Shut up,” Yixing says, a terribly weak comeback for him but he’s too tired to be particularly witty right now and strangely, he’s craving Luhan’s attention when usually it’s the other way around. This doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel a wave of embarrassment wash over him when Wu Fan chuckles.
“That’s pretty weak, Zhang,” Wu Fan says with a raised eyebrow. Yixing knows what he’s silently asking, what’s wrong? but he doesn’t quite feel like whining like a teenage girl too. The sulking is enough for one day.
“I’m fine, go eat dinner,” Yixing tells Wu Fan, pulling up at his blankets. He feels chilly all of a sudden but Wu Fan stops him by sitting down on the bed next to Yixing. The glare he sends Wu Fan’s way goes ignored and instead, Wu Fan places a flat palm on Yixing’s back. “Sehun only thinks of Luhan as an older brother.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Yixing sighs, annoyed. A part of him can’t believe that he’s being this obvious but then Wu Fan is perceptive enough.
“Then why’d you leave?”
“I wanted to be alone.”
“You left in the middle of helping with dinner, that’s not like you.” The hand is rubbing soothing circles into his back now and damn Wu Fan for knowing what calms Yixing down.
“Well, I guess I’m not as predictable as you think I am then.”
Wu Fan sighs, the look on his face somewhat disappointed. Yixing likes giving Wu Fan a hard time but not in this way. Usually he can manage to tell him what’s wrong, if, perhaps, after whatever’s bothering him has passed.
“I’m going to send Luhan to come talk to you if you don’t tell me.”
“Go ahead, I’m not saying fuck all to him.”
“Yixing.” Wu Fan’s voice is steady but there’s a weary edge to it.
“It’s nothing, stop worrying so much. You do that all that shit for your face to keep the wrinkles away, don’t you? Stop sabotaging your efforts.” This gets him a smack and a tired laugh, which is enough for Yixing. He shoves at Wu Fan, eyeing the door and Wu Fan sighs before heading out of the room.
“Give him a really hard time, for me,” Wu Fan grins and Yixing can’t help but smile back, nodding. “Of course, duizhang, for you.”
Yixing feels the bed sink next to him, and he knows subconsciously that it’s Luhan before he even opens his eyes. Luhan’s body is cold, as it always is, hands freezing as they brush against Yixing’s bare skin.
“Go sleep in your own bed,” Yixing grumbles, pulling his sheets away from Luhan and glaring as best he can through his sleep fuddled eyes.
“...what?” Luhan asks, and he’s gone suddenly very still. For a brief second Yixing feels bad but then the image of him laughing with Sehun pops back right up and he feels upset again.
“I said, go sleep in your own bed,” Yixing repeats himself, louder this time, surer.
“Why?” Luhan asks, still not moving. Yixing gives him a shove until he falls off the bed and smiles in satisfaction when Luhan let’s out a loud yelp. He’s been shoved out of his own bed by Luhan, let alone even made it into Luhan’s.
“Because you suck,” Yixing tosses out at him, before turning his back to Luhan’s bewildered face and closing his eyes. He almost feels better.
Preparations for their comeback basically translate to Yixing gritting his teeth through his back pain when they’re going through their tenth hour of dance practise with their choreographer pushing them to go a little longer. Yixing’s done fourteen hour practise days but back then, his back didn’t start acting up five or six hours in. Even with all the time off from promotions he hasn’t really gotten a chance to rest and when Yixing glances over at Jongin, he looks even worse for wear. They all do.
“Take a quick ten minute break,” their manager yells at them from the door, before disappearing and everyone in the room near collapses to the floor. Yixing manages to make it to the wall before he sinks to down, wincing when the pain in his back intensifies briefly.
“You okay?” Luhan asks him, concern evident. Usually Yixing would find it comforting but he’s tired and still irritated by Luhan spending so much time with Sehun. He’d spent the majority of the day hanging off of his arm, shooting Yixing a glance every now and then.
“Fine,” he breathes, looking around for his water bottle. When he notices that it’s empty he sighs in resignation, swallowing around his parched throat.
“Here, have mine,” Luhan offers, and Yixing only takes it because Luhan is practically shoving it in his face.
“How kind of you.” Yixing knows he shouldn’t be so sarcastic but the bitterness is getting the better of him and he’s going to blame this all on how tired he is. He knows Luhan will take his harder than he should but Yixing is tired of only being sought out when no one else will give Luhan the attention he wants.
“You’re being kind of annoying,” Luhan says, blunt and to the point, if only with Yixing. “If I did something to upset you, just tell me.”
“Or maybe you can figure it out on your own for once.” Yixing throws the water bottle back at Luhan, still unopened, rising to his feet and leaving him by the wall. Jongin gives him a tired smile when he sits down next to him spread out like a starfish on the floor.
Yixing keeps his eyes determinedly fixed on Jongin’s rising chest and not Luhan’s quiet figure in the corner.
“So what’s up with you ignoring your boyfriend, huh? I thought you guys were going to get married and have like seven kids,” Jongdae asks him as he flops down onto the couch next to Yixing.
“I’m not ignoring him,” Yixing replies, focusing on the composition in his hands. He ignores the flush that rises to his cheeks as well.
“Right, and I can fly.” Jongdae snatches the composition out of his hands and Yixing gives him a dirty look but he waits for whatever other nonsense he has to say. “I’m only asking because he won’t fucking stop bothering me about it.”
Snorting, Yixing takes back his composition and really, he isn’t even surprised. “He’s such a dumbass.”
“No arguments there,” Jongdae hums but he nudges Yixing gently, slightly less pestering this time. “Is this because of that day in the kitchen?”
“This is because of a lot of things,” Yixing answers and he knows the answer is unsatisfactory but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t quite know either, really.
They’re at the airport, headed out for some award show and maybe Yixing would care more if his bones didn’t creak with every step he took forward and his head didn’t throb in tune to the girls screaming all around him. Perhaps staying to practise until two in the morning wasn’t his best idea. And of course, this is the day he forgets to bring his iPod.
Usually he has Luhan to remind him of everything he needs to grab, going through a quick check list with Yixing but they haven’t really spoken since Yixing snapped at him in practise. He doesn't blame Luhan, not really, but the numb ache in his heart is turning vicious as he watches Sehun wrap an arm around his shoulders.
This never used to bother him, and he is nearly more furious with himself than he is with Luhan for forgetting that he’s still here.
“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks him, quiet but his presence next to Yixing is welcome. He only nods though, smiling because Kyungsoo has always been particularly kind.
Kyungsoo sticks to his side until they make it past the gates, where Chanyeol steals him away to take to a nearby magazine stand. Yixing doesn’t mind, sinking into an empty seat in the waiting area for their flight.
To his surprise, Luhan joins him, popping up out of nowhere. He offers Yixing a smile, which Yixing returns but it’s strained, even if the small gesture is already thawing his heart.
“I heard you forgot your iPod,” Luhan comments, conversational in his approach. He grabs Yixing’s hand then, flipping it over to place his own in Yixing’s palm. “Borrow mine.”
“Thanks,” Yixing says, wishing he could hold Luhan’s hand but there are fans even here, the ones who purchase plane tickets to stalk them even on the planes themselves. He shrugs it off, the lesson that they were commodities to be consumed and not people to be respected one of the first Yixing had understood.
Still, with Luhan sitting next to him, shoulder brushing Yixing’s, he thinks back to when they’d first started out, when Yixing had just been Yixing, with no Luhan to attach himself too. Before, when they’d been inseparable friends, the slow burn of wanting more like years spent waiting in too hot practise rooms for a chance to debut. He wonders how they’ve devolved back to this, if it’s all his fault.
He digs out his headphones, the emergency pair he keeps in his matching backpack with Luhan, and hands one ear bud to Luhan, leaning against his shoulder just the slightest bit more. The upwards curl of Luhan’s mouth doesn’t go unnoticed.
Yixing flops down onto his bed, sighing. He knows the shower won’t be free for another hour, Wu Fan’s stupid skin regimen taking up near half that time. Jongdae’s still not in the room, which is why Yixing turns to look curiously at the door when someone knocks. It’s Luhan.
“Hey,” he murmurs, looking a little nervous at the door, which is unusual for Luhan who always looks sure of himself or as lost as Yixing. They’re two sides of the same coin, after all.
“Hey,” Yixing smiles, genuinely because he can still feel the warmth in his chest from earlier, when Luhan had worried over him like a mother. So maybe sometimes Yixing liked feeling spoiled.
“Can I come in?” Luhan still sounds hesitant so Yixing nods, murmuring an, “Of course.”
Luhan looks something like an actual deer now, trepid and nervous as he shuffles into the room. Yixing supposes that he’s the cause of this himself, a hunter waiting to shoot his prey down but maybe all Yixing’s ever wanted was to sink his teeth into Luhan’s skin and carry him home.
By the time Luhan’s within Yixing’s reach, Yixing has risen off his bed a little, not too comfortable with placing his weight on his elbows, the curve in his back agitating. But he offers Luhan a hand which Luhan takes readily, smiling more so with his eyes than his mouth. The invitation hangs in the air until Yixing shuffles over a little and Luhan, eyes widening, grins as he climbs into Yixing’s bed after him, warm body pressing against Yixing’s.
He can safely say he’s missed this, missed curling up next to Luhan and just breathing him in. Today he smells like sweat but that’s okay, so does Yixing.
“I missed you,” he whispers, and Yixing smiles, wrapping an arm around Luhan’s lean waist, pulling him in a little tighter. Luhan’s always been forward, unlike Yixing, who sometimes falters over what he wants to say, too indecisive to really come to a conclusion.
“Good,” he mumbles into the skin of Luhan’s neck and he would kiss it, maybe even lick the sweat right off but he still wants to ease back into this. There’s hesitation bubbling across the surface of his heart and Yixing’s always blindly believed in going with his intuition.
Luhan laughs though, a warm, comforting sound Yixing’s also missed. It vibrates through Luhan until Yixing can feel the aftershock tingling beneath his skin. “How’s your back?”
Yixing knows Luhan worries about Yixing more than Yixing worries about himself, too caught up in trying to be perfect, in never letting his bandmates or fans down. Luhan is much better at saying enough is enough -- well, sometimes.
He lies, sure that a night’s rest would make him feel better in the morning. “I’m fine.”
“That’s code for ‘it hurts like fuck,’ right?” Luhan’s smiling but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Yixing sighs, knows he’s lost this one before it even began.
“It’s not like you worrying over it is going to make it better,” Yixing tells him wryly. He doesn’t mean to be so negative, usually trying his best to keep to his can-do attitude.
“No, but I can give you a massage,” Luhan says, moving away from Yixing before he can even reply. “Be right back!”
Yixing thinks about hiding under his covers but he’s both too lazy to move and too tired and by the time he thinks he’s made a decision, Luhan’s back with a little glass bottle of oil in his hands.
Despite Yixing’s efforts to be as little cooperative as possible, Luhan manages to get Yixing’s shirt up past his sternum, cold hands spreading like ice across his back. He winces at the initial pressure, cold oil quickly heating up as Luhan works his hands into Yixing’s aching muscles.
Sighing, Yixing relaxes into the touches, biting back a groan whenever Luhan presses too hard, bringing dulled pain shrieking to the surface. His fingers curl into fists, exhaling only when Luhan’s fingers smooth out kinks in his mid back, thumb tracing gently over his bruised lower back.
“Does it hurt?” Luhan whispers, leaning over Yixing’s head. His breath is unbearably hot and Yixing knows where this is headed, he should have anticipated it.
“Kind of,” Yixing answers.
The kiss pressed to the back of his neck has him squirming away, Luhan’s laughter filling the room as Yixing covers his neck with a cold hand. “Asshole.”
“Hey be nice to the guy giving you a massage,” Luhan teases, and Yixing can imagine the pout he’s put on.
“I think I’m good, thanks,” Yixing retorts. “Besides, I need to go shower.”
“Oh, okay,” Luhan’s voice sounds a little small but Yixing isn’t really up for anything tonight, even if he thinks he’s mostly over whatever stupid hangup he had over Sehun and Luhan. He can’t exactly keep acting like this, and he really doesn’t want to, the twinkle in Luhan’s eyes somewhat dimmed since their not-quite-a-fight fight. Besides which, Luhan had been hovering around him almost 24/7 since, offering him portions of his food, even his neck rest when they’d been on the plane back from Hong Kong.
Luhan gets off of Yixing, warmth of his body gone from Yixing and he shivers before pushing his shirt down and rising off his bed. He studies Luhan, small, round face unreadable save the frustration and fear in his eyes.
Yixing didn’t think that things had gotten so dramatic but he pushes Luhan back onto his bed, smiling softly. “Stay.”
His eyes widen, fear replaced by hope and Yixing can’t help himself this time, leaning down and kissing Luhan chastly. “Thanks.”
“Can’t be mad at you forever, I guess,” Yixing says, as he leaves the room. Maybe he should explain why he’s been so upset. Maybe later.
Yixing follows Luhan to his room, fingers laced together loosely. They’ve snuck away from the rest of the group, leaving them behind in EXO-K’s living room as loud and obnoxious as ever. He recalls sharing a dorm room with Luhan when they’d been trainees, split apart later and he’d thought maybe the space would do them some good. Now he wishes he could spend every second infused to Luhan’s side, breathing in the same air. It’s a little twisted, even inside his head but Yixing has a small tendency to be obsessive.
He expects Luhan to drag him to Wu Fan’s bed but he doesn’t, pushing Yixing down onto his own. The surprise on his features must be obvious because Luahn laughs, a charming sound and Yixing wonders how he stayed angry so long.
“Wu Fan told me, you know,” Luhan whispers, straddling Yixing’s hips.
“Told you what?” Yixing asks, licking his bottom lip in anticipation.
“About you getting all jealous,” he murmurs, kissing Yixing slowly, mouth warm and wet, teeth nipping at Yixing’s lips.
“That fucker,” Yixing breathes but it’s more of a shudder, Luhan’s hands slipping underneath his thin t-shirt.
“You should have just told me.” Luhan’s lips are smooth and soft and Yixing likes them best, likes how they get so pink when Yixing’s bitten down on them until they are swollen sore.
“It was stupid,” he says, arching upwards into Luhan’s mouth, needy and wanting more.
“Even if it was,” Luhan says between pressing open mouthed kisses to Yixing’s neck, fingers finding a nipple to pinch tight. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Yixing mumbles into Luhan’s mouth, stifling a moan when Luhan bites down on his collarbone.
He’s missed this the most.
- originally written for sncj-santa here
- not sure how much i like this but eh
- thankyou for reading! ♥