post #39 [closed]
TL;DR RULES
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
Yixing lifts his head off the sofa pillow and squints in the dark to see Jongin, dressed like he’s ready for sleep, standing at where the hallway led away from the living room. He frowns a little bit, but tries not to let it show on his face. “Jongin, what are you doing? Go to sleep!”
Jongin pads over to the sofa (no slippers and no socks, either, Yixing notes). “I could say the same to you, hyung,” Jongin says. As he gets closer, Yixing can see more and more clearly that, unlike him, Jongin isn’t bothering to hide his frown. “You shouldn’t be staying behind to practice so much.”
Chewing on his bottom lip, Yixing just says, “Don’t worry about me.”
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
Yixing doesn’t think he can. “I’m alright, Jongin, I think I’ll just lie here for a bit and then I’ll go to bed eventually--”
“Your back is hurting you, isn’t it?” Jongin says, staring directly into Yixing’s eyes.
He tries to laugh it off, but it’s hard to hide the disappointment in his voice. He thought he’d hidden it well. Jongin’s one track mindedness helped with that, usually. “Since when have you gotten so perceptive, Jongin? But I’m fine,” and to prove his point, he tries to lift himself off the sofa, only to let out a small cry when his lower back twinges in pain. He falls back on the sofa.
Jongin, still standing, looks at him pointedly. “You were saying…?”
“I’m an old man, Jongin,” Yixing says. “Or at least, I feel much older than I am. Back pains are unavoidable for grandpas like me.”
“You’re not a grandpa, don’t be ridiculous,” Jongin clucks his tongue. “Come on, turn over.”
“What for?”
“A back massage, of course,” Jongin says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“I don’t need it,” Yixing immediately says.
“If you don’t turn over in five seconds, I’m going to wake up Chanyeol hyung and have him flip you over and pin you down forcefully. And when he does, he’ll probably wake up everybody in the dorm, and everybody will see you like this and start fussing over you. Do you want that?”
Yixing reluctantly turns over onto his stomach and lets Jongin’s fingers get to work, kneading the tight muscles in his lower back.
“You probably think I’m so broken, right, Jongin,” Yixing says, his voice muffled by facing down on the sofa. “If it’s not my back, it’s my waist, or it’s my knees. There’s always something wrong.”
“You dance too hard, hyung,” Jongin says softly, concentrating on working his fingers into Yixing’s back. He’s done this so often that he knows the exact spots Yixing likes to be massaged. He could do this with his eyes closed.
“You do too!” Yixing protests. “But you can dance even when your back is bad. I have to sit out sometimes.” He lets a full ten seconds pass, and then: “I’m jealous.”
Yixing immediately regrets saying those words, especially when Jongin’s massaging slows down. He can’t see Jongin’s face, but he can tell Jongin is a little taken aback. “Don’t be, hyung.” Jongin’s fingers resume massaging with earnest. “Is that why you keep staying at practice so late? Because you think that otherwise you can’t catch up with me?”
Yixing doesn’t answer, which he hopes is as good as any answer to Jongin.
“Hyung is silly,” Jongin says. “Hyung never realizes that I have never been a better dancer than he is, no matter how many times I tell him.”
“Hyung is silly,” Yixing agrees, because he doesn’t know what else to say. A small chuckle escapes his lips, even as the tip of his nose burns.
“Remember, hyung. Don’t break.”
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Yixing doesn’t stay late at practice the next day, for once. He’s fixing himself a cup of herbal tea (mailed to Korea by his grandmother, with a letter saying it’s good for back pains) when Baekhyun walks into the kitchen.
“Jongin is calling for you,” Baekhyun says.
“Where is he?” Yixing asks, setting his cup down.
“In his bedroom.” Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows a little. “He won’t listen to anybody else. Please go?”
Yixing claps Baekhyun on the shoulder on his way out, cheerfully saying, “Don’t worry, I will.”
He can hear Jongin arguing with Chanyeol even before he reaches the bedroom.
“--Just let me put a heat pack on you!” Chanyeol is saying, sounding exasperated.
“I don’t need one,” Jongin says petulantly, from where he’s lying on his bed on top of the covers, still wearing the clothes he went to practice in. “I just want a massage.”
“Then let me give you one!”
“Yixing hyung does it best. Yixing hyung knows exactly where it hurts because he’s a dancer too--”
Yixing stands in the doorway of the bedroom, watching Chanyeol throw his hands up in the air dramatically. “As if I, or any of us, don’t dance at all or something--”
Jongin catches sight of Yixing and his eyes light up, promptly ignoring Chanyeol’s complaints. “Hyung!” He rolls over onto his stomach immediately. “Massage, please.”
Jongin reminds Yixing so much of a puppy that Yixing has a sudden urge to laugh. It’s so different from the first time Yixing spent an hour coaxing Jongin to let him even lay a finger on him, he so stubbornly insisted on massaging his back himself. (“You’re good at this,” Jongin begrudgingly admitted after that first time.) Yixing moves around a pouting Chanyeol (looking miffed that his assistance had been rejected, but relieved that at least Jongin had accepted somebody’s help), to stand next to Jongin’s bed. “What was that you said about not practicing too hard, Jongin?” Yixing asks, to which Jongin just answers with a whine. Yixing chuckles, laying his hands on the familiar curve of Jongin’s back.
“Cute grandpa couple,” Yixing hears Baekhyun say from behind him. He must have followed Yixing from the kitchen. “Commiserating in their mutual grandpa-ness.”
“Like listening to two senior citizens griping about their old joints and tired muscles,” Chanyeol joins in the teasing. “Wow, Jongin, should I refer to you as ahjussi now? And to think, once upon a time, I was your hyung.”
“Ahjussi,” Baekhyun coos at Jongin, carefully setting Yixing’s cup of tea on Jongin’s night table so that it’s within easy reach for Yixing. Yixing barely notices, he’s concentrating so hard on unknotting the muscles of Jongin’s back. “Ahjussi, would you like a cup of tea too?” Baekhyun cackles when he successfully evades Jongin’s swipe at him.
“We were wrong this whole time about Joonmyun being the grandpa of the house,” Chanyeol grins. “It’s actually these two right here.”
Jongdae announces his arrival with a bark of laughter, having heard Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s teasing from the hallway. Catching sight of Yixing working very intently on Jongin’s back, he says, “How’s our cripple couple doing?”
“We are not crippled!” Jongin yells indignantly, half getting up from bed. “Yixing hyung is not--”
“You know they’re just kidding, Jongin,” Yixing says calmly, pushing Jongin back down on the bed. “We all know you’ll still be dancing even if you had broken bones.”
These are sobering words, and the three mischief makers fall silent. “You would too, Yixing hyung,” Jongdae adds. “You two, take care of yourselves.”
“Yixing hyung is not crippled,” Jongin insists, so softly that Yixing almost misses it.
Yixing rubs his thumbs in small circles in the spots on Jongin’s back where he knows Jongin likes it. “I’m not, as long as you aren’t either. Deal?”
Jongin breaks into a smile. “Deal.”
“Cute grandpa couple,” Baekhyun says again in the background, the corner of his eyes crinkling.
--
A/N: i tried /o\ sorry, you were probably looking for something better sobs
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