carry you home
Title: carry you home
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 690 words
Summary: Yixing remembers the days when Jongdae smiled.
warnings: mentions of depression, vague mention of eating disorder
Yixing remembers the days when Jongdae smiled easily, the days when the glow of his cheeks was healthy and soft, the days when his eyes shined. Yixing remembers the times when Jongdae told jokes, the times when Jongdae played pranks, the times when Jongdae dreamed for himself. Yixing remembers the mornings when Jongdae sang and the evenings when Jongdae begged to take night time strolls through the park. Just for fun, he would say.
Yixing remembers all too well, and so he never complains when Jongdae calls him at one in the morning, crying brokenly through the phone line. Where are you is all Yixing asks, and when he’s got an address he’s out the door within seconds, repeating the same words over and over into the cell phone pressed against his ear. I’ll be there soon.
Today Jongdae gives him the location of an intersection in the middle of the city, and Yixing finds him sitting on the curb, sniffling into his phone because Yixing won’t let him hang up until he’s got Jongdae in sight. It’s raining lightly, just enough to set a chill to Yixing’s skin, but Jongdae’s umbrella is open and upside down next to him on the sidewalk, slowly collecting water in the inner curve of the material. The thin jacket Jongdae’s wearing is doing nothing to keep out the rain, and he’s evidently been sitting there for quite a while, because the fabric is damp and clinging to his torso. Yixing makes a mental note to skip classes tomorrow; Jongdae has probably already caught a cold at this rate.
Hi, Jongdae says miserably when Yixing sits down beside him and drapes his own thick coat over the other’s trembling shoulders. That dead look is in his eyes again, a black, hopeless gaze that Yixing has seen too often, and his cheekbones are too sharp against pale, drawn skin. There are dark streaks of tears stained against Jongdae’s cheeks, but Yixing thinks he looks beautiful, in a morbid sort of way.
Unsteady fingers reach to pull Yixing’s coat tighter against his body, and the bulky article of clothing makes him look even smaller. It reminds Yixing that Jongdae didn’t eat today, and probably not yesterday either; it reminds him that if he were to remove the other’s shirt at this moment he’d be able to trace every single bump of Jongdae’s rib cage and every ridge of Jongdae’s spine.
Were you drinking today? He asks quietly and Jongdae shakes his head.
Only a little, is his reply, and Yixing sighs and stands up, reaching out to offer Jongdae his hand and help him to his feet. Jongdae’s fingers are shivering and cold in Yixing’s grasp, and he falls into Yixing’s side after one step, his breath coming out in weak gasps. I can’t, Yixing, he pleads, his voice hoarse and his hands tugging pathetically on the sleeve of Yixing’s shirt.
And Yixing closes his eyes and pulls Jongdae into an embrace, circling his arms tight against the other’s waist and pressing a smooth kiss to Jongdae’s temple. Then I’ll carry you, he murmurs into Jongdae’s soaked hair, and Jongdae responds with a watery hiccup and hides his face in Yixing's chest.
Okay, he chokes out eventually, and at Yixing's gentle urging he releases his hold so Yixing can crouch down and help Jongdae clamber on to his back. His grip around Yixing's neck is too loose, but he weighs barely anything so it's easy for Yixing to secure Jongdae's legs around his waist, with his chin tucked safely in the crook of Yixing's neck.
The dull buzz of traffic is absent from the early morning hours, and the faint glow of streetlights guides Yixing's steps as he carries Jongdae home, the umbrella closed and swinging from his wrist. Jongdae exhales and melts into Yixing's back, the coat pulled over his head his breath warm against Yixing's throat. You're too good to me, Yixing thinks he hears Jongdae whisper, but he only adjusts his grip slightly in response, and somewhere between the sixth or seventh block Jongdae's shallow breaths even out and he drifts into unconsciousness.
A/N: hi this is not what im supposed to working on im supposed to be finishing my superlong school au and my sncj assignent but oops ;;
im sorry for being an angsty little creature as crystal likes to refer to me sorry crystal angst runs in my veins apparently???
but i havent posted anything in a while so i thought i should so here you go guys om g
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 690 words
Summary: Yixing remembers the days when Jongdae smiled.
warnings: mentions of depression, vague mention of eating disorder
Yixing remembers the days when Jongdae smiled easily, the days when the glow of his cheeks was healthy and soft, the days when his eyes shined. Yixing remembers the times when Jongdae told jokes, the times when Jongdae played pranks, the times when Jongdae dreamed for himself. Yixing remembers the mornings when Jongdae sang and the evenings when Jongdae begged to take night time strolls through the park. Just for fun, he would say.
Yixing remembers all too well, and so he never complains when Jongdae calls him at one in the morning, crying brokenly through the phone line. Where are you is all Yixing asks, and when he’s got an address he’s out the door within seconds, repeating the same words over and over into the cell phone pressed against his ear. I’ll be there soon.
Today Jongdae gives him the location of an intersection in the middle of the city, and Yixing finds him sitting on the curb, sniffling into his phone because Yixing won’t let him hang up until he’s got Jongdae in sight. It’s raining lightly, just enough to set a chill to Yixing’s skin, but Jongdae’s umbrella is open and upside down next to him on the sidewalk, slowly collecting water in the inner curve of the material. The thin jacket Jongdae’s wearing is doing nothing to keep out the rain, and he’s evidently been sitting there for quite a while, because the fabric is damp and clinging to his torso. Yixing makes a mental note to skip classes tomorrow; Jongdae has probably already caught a cold at this rate.
Hi, Jongdae says miserably when Yixing sits down beside him and drapes his own thick coat over the other’s trembling shoulders. That dead look is in his eyes again, a black, hopeless gaze that Yixing has seen too often, and his cheekbones are too sharp against pale, drawn skin. There are dark streaks of tears stained against Jongdae’s cheeks, but Yixing thinks he looks beautiful, in a morbid sort of way.
Unsteady fingers reach to pull Yixing’s coat tighter against his body, and the bulky article of clothing makes him look even smaller. It reminds Yixing that Jongdae didn’t eat today, and probably not yesterday either; it reminds him that if he were to remove the other’s shirt at this moment he’d be able to trace every single bump of Jongdae’s rib cage and every ridge of Jongdae’s spine.
Were you drinking today? He asks quietly and Jongdae shakes his head.
Only a little, is his reply, and Yixing sighs and stands up, reaching out to offer Jongdae his hand and help him to his feet. Jongdae’s fingers are shivering and cold in Yixing’s grasp, and he falls into Yixing’s side after one step, his breath coming out in weak gasps. I can’t, Yixing, he pleads, his voice hoarse and his hands tugging pathetically on the sleeve of Yixing’s shirt.
And Yixing closes his eyes and pulls Jongdae into an embrace, circling his arms tight against the other’s waist and pressing a smooth kiss to Jongdae’s temple. Then I’ll carry you, he murmurs into Jongdae’s soaked hair, and Jongdae responds with a watery hiccup and hides his face in Yixing's chest.
Okay, he chokes out eventually, and at Yixing's gentle urging he releases his hold so Yixing can crouch down and help Jongdae clamber on to his back. His grip around Yixing's neck is too loose, but he weighs barely anything so it's easy for Yixing to secure Jongdae's legs around his waist, with his chin tucked safely in the crook of Yixing's neck.
The dull buzz of traffic is absent from the early morning hours, and the faint glow of streetlights guides Yixing's steps as he carries Jongdae home, the umbrella closed and swinging from his wrist. Jongdae exhales and melts into Yixing's back, the coat pulled over his head his breath warm against Yixing's throat. You're too good to me, Yixing thinks he hears Jongdae whisper, but he only adjusts his grip slightly in response, and somewhere between the sixth or seventh block Jongdae's shallow breaths even out and he drifts into unconsciousness.
A/N: hi this is not what im supposed to working on im supposed to be finishing my superlong school au and my sncj assignent but oops ;;
im sorry for being an angsty little creature as crystal likes to refer to me sorry crystal angst runs in my veins apparently???
but i havent posted anything in a while so i thought i should so here you go guys om g