[fic] The Road Less Traveled
//Pairing//: Lay x Luhan
//Prompt//: 60-year old married Layhan, with lots of toothache-inducing fluff
//Rating//: PG
//Summary//: The joys in life are in the journey, not the destination.
//Word Count//: 1,451
//Author’s Note//: Especially for Jamie. Happy, happy (belated) birthday! Lots and lots of love ^~^ (Regretfully unbeta-ed) Hover over the chinese text for translations. Also I think I got a cavity after writing this.
“Xing,close the windows, will you?”
Luhan puts down his magazine and reaches for his sweater, which currently hangs on the wooden clothes hook beside his armchair. The weather is colder these days, as the tail end of summer transitions into fall, and he feels it in his bones more acutely than he did before. Luhan mutters under his breath when he can’t quite reach the sweater, one hand grasping to try and get at it from his perch. He doesn’t have to struggle for long because Luhan’s fingertips soon come into contact with his sweater and he looks up with a smile, already knowing who it is.
“Here you go. I think the cleaner pushed the armchair back a little bit yesterday when she was tidying up in here.” Yixing’s voice doesn’t sound all that different now than it did when they first met, and Luhan nods in thanks before he shifts in his chair and puts his sweater on while murmuring something about how he had gotten the distance between the armchair and the clothes hook just right, and he’ll have to watch the cleaner closely when she comes in next so she doesn’t mess anything else up. There isn’t time to complain though, because Yixing moves to perch himself on the armrest, placing one arm around Luhan’s shoulders before he leans over to press a kiss against the crown of his head - a move that never fails to make Luhan smile.
“I’ve closed the windows,” Yixing says gently, before pulling away to look at Luhan. “Like you asked.” Luhan looks up and smiles. The years have been good to Yixing, and although his hair has turned gray at the temples and there are now a few well-placed laugh lines on his countenance, he has retained his good looks (even though the man himself doesn’t think so).
“Thank you,” Luhan smiles, and reaches over to pat Yixing’s hand gently. He feels the warmth of the other man’s hand, and the thin metal band at the base of his ring finger, which remains cool to the touch. “It was warm before when I sat down to read, but then it got cold really quickly.”
Yixing only chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought we said no more leaving the windows open - you’re not 25 anymore, you know.” He says that in a mock-chiding tone before sliding a little further down towards the middle of the armchair. Luhan responds by snorting and trying to push back against his bicep, though he eventually ends up giving in and letting Yixing rest his weight (rather heavily) against him.
“Well, it’s been 25 years and you’re still ugly,” is the best retort Luhan can come up with, even though it has absolutely no bearing on the current situation (and he doesn’t mean it one bit). “Dunno what I’m still doing with you.”
Even after all these years, Yixing remains inherently understanding, and he acknowledges Luhan’s need to have the last word. “Because you’re charitable enough to like ugly people.” He weaves his fingers affectionately through Luhan’s hair - which is still jet-black thanks to hair dye - before pressing another kiss on the top of his head. “So thank you for that. But seriously, the air in this city isn’t good for your health - that’s what we have the air purifier for.”
The decision to move back to Beijing from Seoul some years earlier had been a mutual one. Both of them had spent too long trying to figure out their lives without the other, and it took Luhan’s 30th birthday celebration for them to fall back together again. It was obvious - everything about their being together was easy, and everything about them being apart was hard, so after avoiding the issue for years, Luhan threw caution to the wind and turned up on Yixing’s doorstep with an overnight bag and a heartfelt confession. “Me without you doesn’t make sense.” The words came easy to Luhan, who had repeated them to himself every night since the day he had filed the lawsuit. It had been necessary at the time, but then again, so was spending the rest of his life with Yixing and now, now none of that matters, because Luhan has had Yixing to bring him his sweater when the weather gets cold for many years now, and each one has been more fruitful than the last.
The first few years were easy, with Yixing playing the guitar to Luhan’s lead vocals, both professionally and privately. The former garnered more attention, of course, with Luhan’s clear, flawless voice melding beautifully with Yixing’s raw, heartfelt lyrics and impeccable fretwork. Casting off the boyband persona was something that seemed to come naturally with age (Luhan almost forgets that Yixing’s stage name was Lay), and as far as they were concerned, no one needed to know that at night, when the recording stopped and the sheet music and instruments were put away, Luhan snuggled up to Yixing, and listened to his lover whisper lyrics that were meant for him, and only him.
The inevitable wedding was something that everyone had seen coming - neither of them were fond of the idea of being bound by a piece of paper, but it was a matter of formalizing their relationship, and Luhan knew, as he had always known, that Yixing was the one for him, without a doubt (both their mothers had even shed a tear or two at the ceremony).
After a few years of living by themselves, the both of them came to the logical conclusion that the overspill of their love should be poured out on children - biological or not, it didn’t matter. This resulted in them adopting Jiale, a little boy who, at three months old, was big for his age, and loving him as their own. Two years later, a little girl, Jiaxuan, followed. Unlike her brother, she was delicate and on the small side, and despite none of them having any blood ties between them, they formed an unbreakable familial bond that proved all their naysayers wrong. Two years ago, Jiale had gotten married and promptly started raising a family of his own (two dogs, one hamster), and had a baby on the way - heralding the start of endless chats on sleepless nights, toddler feeding adventures and first days at school, all of which Luhan and Yixing were more than familiar with.
“Did Jiale say he was going to drop by this evening after work? He left us a voicemail on the answering machine, but that phone he bought us for Christmas is too new-fangled for my taste.” Yixing says, pulling away for a bit to frown at the clock, which reads 7.30 in the evening.
The corners of Luhan’s lips curve up in amusement, highlighting the laugh lines and crow’s feet that have deepened only slightly with age, as he gestures that Yixing needn’t worry about that. “He got held up at the office, but he’ll be here with Jiaxuan later on. He’s picking her up from home.” At the mention of their children, Luhan reaches up to pat Yixing’s head affectionately.“记忆还是老样子，没有我你会怎样？”
Yixing respectfully agrees, humming as he nods and tilts his head in Luhan’s direction for patting, and his answer couldn’t be more genuine, if only because it is true. “You’re right, I’d be lost without you.” He moves to place Luhan’s hand in his, so they are sitting side by side and palm to palm (Luhan seems to remember that Shakespeare once wrote something about that - a memory from high school literature classes, if his memory serves him right). Luhan lets his thoughts dally for a moment, but then Yixing tilts his chin towards him to kiss him, and even after all these years, Luhan’s heart still skips a beat.
“我爱你” The words that fall from Yixing’s lips - simple, but true, and most of all, reciprocated, just as they have been and will be. A knock sounds at the door, interrupting their tender moment, and the sounds of boisterous laughter that follow are a clear indication that their evening is just about to start. Luhan pulls away, but doesn’t let go of Yixing’s hands, squeezing them affectionately before gesturing in the direction of the door.
“唉，老的，咱们过去开门儿吧。”
Yixing nods and gets up, giving Luhan a hand up as well. Living out the sunset of their lives isn't so bad, Luhan thinks, as long as he has Yixing by his side to see things through.
//Prompt//: 60-year old married Layhan, with lots of toothache-inducing fluff
//Rating//: PG
//Summary//: The joys in life are in the journey, not the destination.
//Word Count//: 1,451
//Author’s Note//: Especially for Jamie. Happy, happy (belated) birthday! Lots and lots of love ^~^ (Regretfully unbeta-ed) Hover over the chinese text for translations. Also I think I got a cavity after writing this.
“Xing,close the windows, will you?”
Luhan puts down his magazine and reaches for his sweater, which currently hangs on the wooden clothes hook beside his armchair. The weather is colder these days, as the tail end of summer transitions into fall, and he feels it in his bones more acutely than he did before. Luhan mutters under his breath when he can’t quite reach the sweater, one hand grasping to try and get at it from his perch. He doesn’t have to struggle for long because Luhan’s fingertips soon come into contact with his sweater and he looks up with a smile, already knowing who it is.
“Here you go. I think the cleaner pushed the armchair back a little bit yesterday when she was tidying up in here.” Yixing’s voice doesn’t sound all that different now than it did when they first met, and Luhan nods in thanks before he shifts in his chair and puts his sweater on while murmuring something about how he had gotten the distance between the armchair and the clothes hook just right, and he’ll have to watch the cleaner closely when she comes in next so she doesn’t mess anything else up. There isn’t time to complain though, because Yixing moves to perch himself on the armrest, placing one arm around Luhan’s shoulders before he leans over to press a kiss against the crown of his head - a move that never fails to make Luhan smile.
“I’ve closed the windows,” Yixing says gently, before pulling away to look at Luhan. “Like you asked.” Luhan looks up and smiles. The years have been good to Yixing, and although his hair has turned gray at the temples and there are now a few well-placed laugh lines on his countenance, he has retained his good looks (even though the man himself doesn’t think so).
“Thank you,” Luhan smiles, and reaches over to pat Yixing’s hand gently. He feels the warmth of the other man’s hand, and the thin metal band at the base of his ring finger, which remains cool to the touch. “It was warm before when I sat down to read, but then it got cold really quickly.”
Yixing only chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought we said no more leaving the windows open - you’re not 25 anymore, you know.” He says that in a mock-chiding tone before sliding a little further down towards the middle of the armchair. Luhan responds by snorting and trying to push back against his bicep, though he eventually ends up giving in and letting Yixing rest his weight (rather heavily) against him.
“Well, it’s been 25 years and you’re still ugly,” is the best retort Luhan can come up with, even though it has absolutely no bearing on the current situation (and he doesn’t mean it one bit). “Dunno what I’m still doing with you.”
Even after all these years, Yixing remains inherently understanding, and he acknowledges Luhan’s need to have the last word. “Because you’re charitable enough to like ugly people.” He weaves his fingers affectionately through Luhan’s hair - which is still jet-black thanks to hair dye - before pressing another kiss on the top of his head. “So thank you for that. But seriously, the air in this city isn’t good for your health - that’s what we have the air purifier for.”
The decision to move back to Beijing from Seoul some years earlier had been a mutual one. Both of them had spent too long trying to figure out their lives without the other, and it took Luhan’s 30th birthday celebration for them to fall back together again. It was obvious - everything about their being together was easy, and everything about them being apart was hard, so after avoiding the issue for years, Luhan threw caution to the wind and turned up on Yixing’s doorstep with an overnight bag and a heartfelt confession. “Me without you doesn’t make sense.” The words came easy to Luhan, who had repeated them to himself every night since the day he had filed the lawsuit. It had been necessary at the time, but then again, so was spending the rest of his life with Yixing and now, now none of that matters, because Luhan has had Yixing to bring him his sweater when the weather gets cold for many years now, and each one has been more fruitful than the last.
The first few years were easy, with Yixing playing the guitar to Luhan’s lead vocals, both professionally and privately. The former garnered more attention, of course, with Luhan’s clear, flawless voice melding beautifully with Yixing’s raw, heartfelt lyrics and impeccable fretwork. Casting off the boyband persona was something that seemed to come naturally with age (Luhan almost forgets that Yixing’s stage name was Lay), and as far as they were concerned, no one needed to know that at night, when the recording stopped and the sheet music and instruments were put away, Luhan snuggled up to Yixing, and listened to his lover whisper lyrics that were meant for him, and only him.
The inevitable wedding was something that everyone had seen coming - neither of them were fond of the idea of being bound by a piece of paper, but it was a matter of formalizing their relationship, and Luhan knew, as he had always known, that Yixing was the one for him, without a doubt (both their mothers had even shed a tear or two at the ceremony).
After a few years of living by themselves, the both of them came to the logical conclusion that the overspill of their love should be poured out on children - biological or not, it didn’t matter. This resulted in them adopting Jiale, a little boy who, at three months old, was big for his age, and loving him as their own. Two years later, a little girl, Jiaxuan, followed. Unlike her brother, she was delicate and on the small side, and despite none of them having any blood ties between them, they formed an unbreakable familial bond that proved all their naysayers wrong. Two years ago, Jiale had gotten married and promptly started raising a family of his own (two dogs, one hamster), and had a baby on the way - heralding the start of endless chats on sleepless nights, toddler feeding adventures and first days at school, all of which Luhan and Yixing were more than familiar with.
“Did Jiale say he was going to drop by this evening after work? He left us a voicemail on the answering machine, but that phone he bought us for Christmas is too new-fangled for my taste.” Yixing says, pulling away for a bit to frown at the clock, which reads 7.30 in the evening.
The corners of Luhan’s lips curve up in amusement, highlighting the laugh lines and crow’s feet that have deepened only slightly with age, as he gestures that Yixing needn’t worry about that. “He got held up at the office, but he’ll be here with Jiaxuan later on. He’s picking her up from home.” At the mention of their children, Luhan reaches up to pat Yixing’s head affectionately.“记忆还是老样子，没有我你会怎样？”
Yixing respectfully agrees, humming as he nods and tilts his head in Luhan’s direction for patting, and his answer couldn’t be more genuine, if only because it is true. “You’re right, I’d be lost without you.” He moves to place Luhan’s hand in his, so they are sitting side by side and palm to palm (Luhan seems to remember that Shakespeare once wrote something about that - a memory from high school literature classes, if his memory serves him right). Luhan lets his thoughts dally for a moment, but then Yixing tilts his chin towards him to kiss him, and even after all these years, Luhan’s heart still skips a beat.
“我爱你” The words that fall from Yixing’s lips - simple, but true, and most of all, reciprocated, just as they have been and will be. A knock sounds at the door, interrupting their tender moment, and the sounds of boisterous laughter that follow are a clear indication that their evening is just about to start. Luhan pulls away, but doesn’t let go of Yixing’s hands, squeezing them affectionately before gesturing in the direction of the door.
“唉，老的，咱们过去开门儿吧。”
Yixing nods and gets up, giving Luhan a hand up as well. Living out the sunset of their lives isn't so bad, Luhan thinks, as long as he has Yixing by his side to see things through.