baby, we flew so high (but then we looked down)
title: baby, we flew so high (but then we looked down)
pairing(s): kray
character(s): lay, kris, (lu han), (tao)
genre: drama
rating: PG-13
summary: yixing wakes up and falls
Yixing wants to scream, kick something, break down in tears, anything. Anything would be better than watching him kiss her, and her kissing back, and the world is unfair, and-
Wu Fan pats Yixing’s bicep as the latter rocks back and forth on the couch, face illuminated by the television screen.
“It’s just a drama,” he soothes. “A really bad one, at that.”
Yixing sniffs, congested from almost-but-not-really crying, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I thought you said you liked this drama,” he accuses softly. “You don’t have to pretend to hate it for my sake.”
Wu Fan frowns. “No, the only reason I liked it was because I thought she was going to slap him at the end, not jump into his arms…”
“Stop lying, you love happy endings.” Yixing grins and turns to face Wu Fan completely as the drama’s ending theme begins to play. His dimple disappears and reappears with each flash of light from the screen; Wu Fan resists a kind-of-sort-of-really strong urge to poke it.
“Okay, okay, I was actually hoping they’d get together.” Wu Fan makes a face and tosses a pillow at Yixing’s smug smile. “Way to forget how upset you were once you start picking on me.”
Yixing has the grace to blush, however impossible it was for the taller man to tell given the darkness of the room.
“We should go sleep,” he mumbles as he stands and stretches. “It’s…” -a quick glance at the clock above the television- “…almost one.” He offers a hand to Wu Fan, who gratefully accepts it and pulls himself up.
They stay like that, hand in hand with matching smiles, until they have to let go to get into bed.
Yixing tries to find Wu Fan’s hand again in the dark, but gets lost somewhere between the covers and gives up.
--
The digital clock near Wu Fan’s head reads 1:38. Yixing stares, motionless, at the display’s reflection in the mirror of the dresser across the room.
At 1: 44, he decides that he should sleep if he wants to engage in any activity besides perhaps raging incoherently later in the day, so he makes a fuss draping one of Wu Fan’s arms around himself. Wu Fan does not disappoint and responds by reluctantly cracking open one sleepy eye.
“What’s wrong,” he groans. “Go to sleep.”
Yixing blinks for the first time in what seems like forever (or at the very least thirty-two minutes, he thinks) and asks, “Do you think that was really a happy ending?”
“Hmm?” Wu Fan’s other eye opens, and Yixing wants to take a picture so he can show him his grumpiness later, much later.
(“And this is how you looked fifty years ago when I woke you up in the middle of the night to talk about a bad drama,” he’ll ask when they’re both old and grey, laughing at memories over steaming cups of tea. “Do you remember that, or were you too busy wanting to strangle me for disturbing your beauty rest?”
Yixing thinks he might be falling asleep too, to dream up such a cliché scenario.)
He stares at Wu Fan for a few more seconds, just because he can, before continuing: “Is it a happy ending just because they got together? Even though he can’t actually make her happy?”
Wu Fan grunts softly before drifting off to sleep once more, and Yixing chuckles quietly to himself for expecting a legitimate response from him in the first place. He kisses the other man’s forehead softly, sleepily, announces to the air, “I’m cold.”
Yixing falls asleep when nothing happens.
--
Yixing wakes up at 7:27 to sunlight, birdsong, and the less-than-pleasant aroma of lightly charred breakfast foods.
Wu Fan’s grimace greets him as he runs into the kitchen to begin damage control. “I tried,” he mumbles, “and to be fair, it doesn’t usually turn out this bad…”
Yixing’s sparkly unicorn apron is splattered with grease. His jaw drops in horror. “You don't usually wear my apron either!” he yells.
Wu Fan crosses his arms and shrugs defensively (adorably, Yixing thinks). “I tried!” he repeats. “And anyway I’m the one who bought you this apron! You used to hate it!”
“Yeah, just like I used to hate you,” Yixing retorts before breaking into a fond smile. “Go back to sleep.”
Before he knows it, the apron is draped on the back of a chair and he is alone in the kitchen, left to wonder how on earth the dishes in the sink managed to pile so high.
--
‘I really didn’t get enough sleep,’ he realizes as he slumps in his chair, not caring that his shirt is probably getting greasy from the apron. ‘Breakfast and Wu Fan will have to wait, I guess.’
A voice in the back of his head tells him that Wu Fan really can’t wait, but Yixing can’t and doesn’t make any sense out of it and drowns it with sleep.
--
‘(67) missed calls’ flashes on the screen of Yixing’s neglected cell phone as it sits on the dresser across the room from an empty bed.
--
Yixing cries in his sleep, but when he wakes up at 9:14, he can’t remember why.
All he can remember is Wu Fan’s voice apologizing, confessing that he loves happy endings.
‘Was he sorry for loving happy endings? Why would he say that?’
Yixing decides to ask Wu Fan but can’t seem to find him as he stands bewildered in the bedroom, alone.
‘From: Lu Han. It’s starting. You should be here’ illuminates his phone’s display. Yixing feels like he agrees, but he is not actually sure where he should be, or why Lu Han wants him there.
‘Anywhere but here,’ the voice in his head tells him as it resurfaces.
Yixing grabs his car keys, forgets to lock the door on his way out.
--
His watch reads 8:36 when he finds himself atop a strangely familiar skyscraper, but he knows that can’t be right.
‘Ah, Wu Fan forgot to remind me to change it for daylight savings this year…’
Yixing squints; the sun is brighter than he thought it could be in the middle of a city. It’s also rather too hot, he thinks, the roof looks like it’s on fire.
His pocket vibrates and Yixing is shaken from his reverie.
‘From: Zitao. He wouldn’t have wanted you to run away’ blinks urgently. Yixing tosses his phone to the ground.
He finds Wu Fan standing on the edge, hair tossed carelessly by the wind.
“I can’t give you a happy ending,” says Wu Fan. Yixing feels as if at least one of them should be crying, but somehow neither of them is. “I’m sorry for that. I know you love happy endings. The kind where they get together…and actually make each other happy. I’m sorry.”
It sounds just like Yixing remembers.
Just like how Wu Fan had said it a week ago.
A week ago.
His watch had read 8:36 then, too, but it had been correct then, he thinks.
‘Did it really say 8:36?’
Yixing can’t remember.
He can’t bring himself to care, either, because then he remembers something else.
--
Wu Fan isn’t standing on the edge of the building anymore, Yixing realizes, hadn’t been to begin with.
Hadn’t been since a week ago.
Yixing looks over the edge to the street below, all eighty-seven stories down.
--
Yixing doesn’t run away.
He flies.
a/n: this is what i do with my life when exo feels and also no internet
pairing(s): kray
character(s): lay, kris, (lu han), (tao)
genre: drama
rating: PG-13
summary: yixing wakes up and falls
Yixing wants to scream, kick something, break down in tears, anything. Anything would be better than watching him kiss her, and her kissing back, and the world is unfair, and-
Wu Fan pats Yixing’s bicep as the latter rocks back and forth on the couch, face illuminated by the television screen.
“It’s just a drama,” he soothes. “A really bad one, at that.”
Yixing sniffs, congested from almost-but-not-really crying, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I thought you said you liked this drama,” he accuses softly. “You don’t have to pretend to hate it for my sake.”
Wu Fan frowns. “No, the only reason I liked it was because I thought she was going to slap him at the end, not jump into his arms…”
“Stop lying, you love happy endings.” Yixing grins and turns to face Wu Fan completely as the drama’s ending theme begins to play. His dimple disappears and reappears with each flash of light from the screen; Wu Fan resists a kind-of-sort-of-really strong urge to poke it.
“Okay, okay, I was actually hoping they’d get together.” Wu Fan makes a face and tosses a pillow at Yixing’s smug smile. “Way to forget how upset you were once you start picking on me.”
Yixing has the grace to blush, however impossible it was for the taller man to tell given the darkness of the room.
“We should go sleep,” he mumbles as he stands and stretches. “It’s…” -a quick glance at the clock above the television- “…almost one.” He offers a hand to Wu Fan, who gratefully accepts it and pulls himself up.
They stay like that, hand in hand with matching smiles, until they have to let go to get into bed.
Yixing tries to find Wu Fan’s hand again in the dark, but gets lost somewhere between the covers and gives up.
--
The digital clock near Wu Fan’s head reads 1:38. Yixing stares, motionless, at the display’s reflection in the mirror of the dresser across the room.
At 1: 44, he decides that he should sleep if he wants to engage in any activity besides perhaps raging incoherently later in the day, so he makes a fuss draping one of Wu Fan’s arms around himself. Wu Fan does not disappoint and responds by reluctantly cracking open one sleepy eye.
“What’s wrong,” he groans. “Go to sleep.”
Yixing blinks for the first time in what seems like forever (or at the very least thirty-two minutes, he thinks) and asks, “Do you think that was really a happy ending?”
“Hmm?” Wu Fan’s other eye opens, and Yixing wants to take a picture so he can show him his grumpiness later, much later.
(“And this is how you looked fifty years ago when I woke you up in the middle of the night to talk about a bad drama,” he’ll ask when they’re both old and grey, laughing at memories over steaming cups of tea. “Do you remember that, or were you too busy wanting to strangle me for disturbing your beauty rest?”
Yixing thinks he might be falling asleep too, to dream up such a cliché scenario.)
He stares at Wu Fan for a few more seconds, just because he can, before continuing: “Is it a happy ending just because they got together? Even though he can’t actually make her happy?”
Wu Fan grunts softly before drifting off to sleep once more, and Yixing chuckles quietly to himself for expecting a legitimate response from him in the first place. He kisses the other man’s forehead softly, sleepily, announces to the air, “I’m cold.”
Yixing falls asleep when nothing happens.
--
Yixing wakes up at 7:27 to sunlight, birdsong, and the less-than-pleasant aroma of lightly charred breakfast foods.
Wu Fan’s grimace greets him as he runs into the kitchen to begin damage control. “I tried,” he mumbles, “and to be fair, it doesn’t usually turn out this bad…”
Yixing’s sparkly unicorn apron is splattered with grease. His jaw drops in horror. “You don't usually wear my apron either!” he yells.
Wu Fan crosses his arms and shrugs defensively (adorably, Yixing thinks). “I tried!” he repeats. “And anyway I’m the one who bought you this apron! You used to hate it!”
“Yeah, just like I used to hate you,” Yixing retorts before breaking into a fond smile. “Go back to sleep.”
Before he knows it, the apron is draped on the back of a chair and he is alone in the kitchen, left to wonder how on earth the dishes in the sink managed to pile so high.
--
‘I really didn’t get enough sleep,’ he realizes as he slumps in his chair, not caring that his shirt is probably getting greasy from the apron. ‘Breakfast and Wu Fan will have to wait, I guess.’
A voice in the back of his head tells him that Wu Fan really can’t wait, but Yixing can’t and doesn’t make any sense out of it and drowns it with sleep.
--
‘(67) missed calls’ flashes on the screen of Yixing’s neglected cell phone as it sits on the dresser across the room from an empty bed.
--
Yixing cries in his sleep, but when he wakes up at 9:14, he can’t remember why.
All he can remember is Wu Fan’s voice apologizing, confessing that he loves happy endings.
‘Was he sorry for loving happy endings? Why would he say that?’
Yixing decides to ask Wu Fan but can’t seem to find him as he stands bewildered in the bedroom, alone.
‘From: Lu Han. It’s starting. You should be here’ illuminates his phone’s display. Yixing feels like he agrees, but he is not actually sure where he should be, or why Lu Han wants him there.
‘Anywhere but here,’ the voice in his head tells him as it resurfaces.
Yixing grabs his car keys, forgets to lock the door on his way out.
--
His watch reads 8:36 when he finds himself atop a strangely familiar skyscraper, but he knows that can’t be right.
‘Ah, Wu Fan forgot to remind me to change it for daylight savings this year…’
Yixing squints; the sun is brighter than he thought it could be in the middle of a city. It’s also rather too hot, he thinks, the roof looks like it’s on fire.
His pocket vibrates and Yixing is shaken from his reverie.
‘From: Zitao. He wouldn’t have wanted you to run away’ blinks urgently. Yixing tosses his phone to the ground.
He finds Wu Fan standing on the edge, hair tossed carelessly by the wind.
“I can’t give you a happy ending,” says Wu Fan. Yixing feels as if at least one of them should be crying, but somehow neither of them is. “I’m sorry for that. I know you love happy endings. The kind where they get together…and actually make each other happy. I’m sorry.”
It sounds just like Yixing remembers.
Just like how Wu Fan had said it a week ago.
A week ago.
His watch had read 8:36 then, too, but it had been correct then, he thinks.
‘Did it really say 8:36?’
Yixing can’t remember.
He can’t bring himself to care, either, because then he remembers something else.
--
Wu Fan isn’t standing on the edge of the building anymore, Yixing realizes, hadn’t been to begin with.
Hadn’t been since a week ago.
Yixing looks over the edge to the street below, all eighty-seven stories down.
--
Yixing doesn’t run away.
He flies.
a/n: this is what i do with my life when exo feels and also no internet