Adrenaline Dynamite (Touch Me to Ignite) [Original Prompt] (4/4)

[yeolis]

Title: Adrenaline Dynamite (Touch Me to Ignite)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 39,090
Warnings: Graphic violence, minor character death, slight gore, breathplay and minor mentions of self harm
Summary: Modern Gladiator AU: Falling in love in the dark wasn’t what Yixing ever expected, not when he’s the only source of light.
Notes: I would like to thank G for being my saviour and putting up with my strange writing patterns while being my beta. I should also give a shoutout to G (again), K, E and J for letting me rant at any time of day over this fic - you are all stars. There is also a mini-playlist I have compiled for this fic, which is as follows:

One of Them by G-Eazy and Big Sean
TKO by Justin Timberlake
Lucid Dreams by Tribe Society
Glory and Gore by Lorde
Go by Delilah
Alibi by Banks
Dazzle by Oh Wonder



{part 3}

Sitting through lectures day upon day was never something Yixing wanted in life, nor was the dull ache in his chest. He figured that throwing himself into his work was the easiest way to stop himself from crying but that didn’t seem to get any better as days passed. He still cried when he laid out in his bed and stood under the falling water of his shower. The places marred with the memory of Yifan were the worst to be in, his heart kept him away from the fights and the other side of the city. Yixing didn’t want to be chasing silhouettes of somebody he couldn’t accept, he was trying to let it go but it was difficult to do so when his whole life had shifted its core.

Yixing was in the library, his fingers tapping emptily across the keys of his iMac in the most repetitive and monotonous tone, not caring that the same character was imprinting itself on the document he had open. He had grown bored of his work, each part of him reverting itself to what he had been in the months before he had first seen Yifan and there were edges of him that evolved fully to fit with the more exciting life he had built.

He was close to giving up on any work, his eyes aching as the clock ticked around to half past eight in the evening and he knew it was only a matter of time before he called home for one of the cars to pick him up. However, a presence beside him had him startling in his chair and throwing a hand over his chest as he looked around at the intruder.

“Bai-ge, it’s a bit late for you to be here,” Yixing frowned, knowing in complete certainty that there was likely to be a fight that very night.

“I came to check up on you,” he hummed, his finger placing itself on the backspace to clear the thirteen pages of nonsense Yixing had managed to produce. “I haven’t seen you around recently.”

Yixing’s expression fell, his whole body coiling up, “I thought I would concentrate on school.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” the older student agreed, his chewing gum smacking behind his teeth. “I mean, it would explain why Duizhang has been so off his game recently, I mean people are landing hits on him like he’s barely even trying. Maybe that’s why he’d agreed to this rigged match, but I can’t imagine his biggest cheerleader would ever let him do such a thing.”

“A rigged match?” Alarm bells rang in Yixing’s head as he repeated the words the other spoke.

“Yeah, rumour is that Duizhang is going to purposely lose this fight to repent for killing that guy a few weeks ago,” Bai moved in closer to Yixing, his finger still resting on the keyboard and Yixing could only stare at his own hands. “That’s actually the last time I saw you at an event.”

“He’s purposefully losing a fight?” Yixing gasped, his hands acting on their own accord as he piled his books into his back and stood up from his chair. “That can’t be right.”

“I’ve heard it from my boss, who is a very reliable source of inf-”

Yixing was out of the library in a snap, a firework of adrenaline making him run out onto the street. He hailed a cab, his fingers picking at the seat material once he had got into the vehicle and told the driver where to head to. It was nerve racking. He willed himself to get there in time, to see Yifan to tell him to not throw the fight. Maybe even plead for him not to if it meant a less favourable fate. Yixing could only silently plead that his driver would take him faster, that he would push at the speed limit and drive them both onwards to where he wanted to be more than anything. He stumbled out of the car, his money shoved in the general direction of the taxi driver and he was running down the streets. They were all familiar to him as he weaved through the block and to where the abattoir had been deserted; he flew into the building and slowed when he saw the large masses all crowded around for the fight. He managed to push himself closer to the front, giving him a great view.

Yixing felt like his heart was rattling thunderously in his throat, he didn't feel any sort of rush when the fighters were announced or when he saw Yifan, not looking proud or cocky, but downcast. His shoulders were sagging forward slightly, the tattoo that Yixing had drawn standing proudly in colour on a canvas of monochrome. The student was glad for his slighter stature as he could hide behind the shoulders and backs of others, he didn't want to be seen and he could easily hideaway if he didn't want to look. He was so scared, each thing around him was happening either too fast or too slow.

People around him were bumping and bashing into his less than enthusiastic body, his eyes unmoving from where Yifan was stepping up to the slaughterhouse platform and he didn't look up at the crowd. He didn't have to; he thought nobody was there for him.

Yixing held his breath when the fight was called, Yifan's arms only lifting up slightly in a limp defensive pose and the first hit connected. Yifan should have easily been able to win over his opponent; he should have blocked that punch with his right arm then kicked around with his left. But, there was nothing.

There was a punch to his stomach, one which had him coiling straight into the knee of the other fighter and his nose began to gush out in red. Yixing didn't understand, he couldn't fathom why Yifan would give himself up like that. He was supposed to be strong and resilient, the strong pillar in the derelict world he lived in but he wasn't. He was recoiling with every kick to his ribs, his head lolling around with punches to his cheekbones and legs swaying as he tried to stay standing after so many hits.

There was blood edging out of cuts that appeared almost successively, edging from his nostrils into his mouth and edging towards the upper layers of his skin as bruises. Yixing could hear the thuds of each attacking hit, how hollow they were and the fact that they were often echoed with small cracking sounds. The people around Yixing were hyperactive, the sight of one of the top fighters crumbling so easily at the hands of somebody of a lower level, the gamblers who had risked a punt on the underdog were going crazy as Yifan stumbled with his head bowed and Yixing felt himself crying.

There was no reprieve, the lights dimming to start the knife round and Yixing started to perspire in a frenzy as he watched Yifan's hand loosely hold his weapon. He wasn't even wearing his arm guards, Yixing covered his mouth as he saw Yifan bloodied and bruised from a carnal assault. There was bile lingering in the back of his throat, crawling further up as the fighter came at Yifan with his knife and wanted to sigh out in relief when it was just a slash, rather than a stab. Though, the menace on the attacker's face made him dread everything to come.

The opponent was enjoying the fact that Yifan wasn't doing anything but trying to remain standing, he was getting off on the physical torture he could engrave with his knife and Yixing could almost hear the taunts leaving the smaller fighter's mouth. There were so many lashes on Yifan's torso, his body starting to look more like the floor of an artist's studio as his body took each blow without defence.

There was only a beat of relief when the timer was up on the bladed round, a scene that switched back over to weapon free fighting. Yixing watched as the man aimed for the places Yifan was cut, his dirty feet landing directly onto the larger slashes and Yixing was going to be sick. His body convulsed in the urge to vomit, his crying eyes not taking themselves away from the scene as Yifan finally fell to the ground in a weak bundle.

The fighter didn't stop the numerous kicks, each of them coming to land upon the man Yixing loved, in rapid and brutal succession. He could see blood slipping out from Yifan's mouth, landing in a thick pool on the ground beneath his face which Yixing could imagine smudging up the side of his cheek. Yixing saw Yifan's eyes look out glassily, his mouth moving to mumble out words he couldn't decipher and Yixing could feel himself yelling.

He was calling for everything to stop, for somebody to intervene before something more happened to Yifan but it was getting lost in the booms of the audience. His voice was lost, not reaching anybody who could do anything to stop the onslaught and there was a fast rawness in his throat as Yifan appeared to go limp on the floor.

It was then that somebody stepped in, the man from Yifan's house that Yixing had interacted with in infrequent moments, making the fighter seize in his movements and step back with a victorious raise of his fists. Yixing wanted to spit, wanted to scream, at the fact the man was celebrating such an awful win. If it could even be classed as that.

There was a group of others surrounding Yifan, somebody telling them all to step back and Yixing knew that wasn't a good sign. A few minutes passed and a stretcher was brought out, all of the people aiding in lifting his body and Yixing followed them around as they left the plinth down the stairs. He felt a sense of deja vu as he barged through the crowd and out to the back room, everybody turning to look at him as Yifan was placed down on a metal table and somebody started to protest. However, the man who Yixing had become a little familiar with said that he was okay to stay in the room, that he should move closer.

There were quiet groans coming from the man on the table and people parted as Yixing came closer, his fingers touching a blood doused cheek and Yifan whined out at the touch.

"It's okay, Fanfan, I'm here," he soothed moving even closer and touching his lips with Yifan's, not caring about the disgusted and disapproving noises from the others in the room. "You're so stupid, what have you done?"

He didn't mind that there was the thick fluid of blood on his lips; he was completely transfixed on the man ahead of him. Yixing could feel that rising sensation in his throat, edging upwards as he heard Yifan's breathing rattling and crackling in his chest, sounding like it was doing more harm than good to him. Yixing didn't want to move from being near Yifan's blood-coated face, not even when he was nudged by paramedics to check the fighter over but an arm pulled him back when Yixing was too in the way.

He only stumbled backwards, his fingers dipped in red as they stayed stretched out to Yifan's head and one of the paramedics was talking to him but everything sounded like he was underwater. Sounds and tones were distinguishable but words and voices were impossible for him to decipher, he only followed the stretcher as it left the building. Yixing, it seemed, was the only person let into the ambulance. Voices still speaking to him and getting nowhere with his ability to hear, it was when somebody touched his arm with a glass of water in their hands.

Yixing could suddenly hear everything; the engine of the ambulance rumbling, the sounds of oxygen being pumped into the face mask that was resting on Yifan's face and the concern of the medic. It was being explained to him that he had gone into a mild state of shock, that he needed to drink and eat something sugary to feel somewhat better. For the first time, he nodded and the woman smiled at him.

"What's your name?" She asked when Yixing looked at her in more than a glance.

"Yixing," he choked out, his eyes flooded with tears in seconds, "Zhang Yixing and he's Wu Yifan." Yixing froze up then his mind produced another name. "H-He's also ca-called Li Jiaheng, I don't know wh-what would b-be on his rec-record but he goes by Yi-Yifan."

"That's okay; we can search that when we get back to the hospital. How are you related to Yifan?" Her smooth voice calmly queried, still checking numerous things on the elder man's body.

"I'm his boyfriend," Yixing didn't let his words crack as he spoke, the woman throwing him a curious glance and he could feel his defences start to climb up.

"And do you know if your boyfriend has any longstanding medical issues? It's okay to say that you don't know."

Yixing shook his head, his blood rushing in his ears as he did so, "No, no, he's never said anything and he's healthy as far as I know."

"Yixing, is there anything else the hospital will need to know?" She was talking above the noise which had increased suddenly as they came into city traffic.

"His parents, they need to know," he decided, his fingers edging to hold Yifan's perfectly still hand where it was laid out. "He doesn't talk to them much but I know he would want them to know."

The woman kept asking Yixing questions, some about Yifan and others about himself, her soft ones about their relationship making him feel completely warm on the inside and the fear he had felt after seeing Yifan's murderous fight was gone.

They pulled up to the hospital, the medics bringing Yifan's body out on their gurney, Yixing trailing helplessly behind them. He was allowed through far and close enough to hear what the woman in the ambulance had deduced; that there was fluid in Yifan's left lung, most likely blood, and that the breaks in his ribs were consistent with the type that would cause a punctured lung. He heard words like urgent, critical and surgery flurry around his ears in a frenzy as people spoke about Yifan's condition. He wanted to ask questions, to know what he could do to help and have somebody tell him that Yifan would be okay. It wasn't much to say or query but it was too much for him to utter.

His lips had sealed themselves shut and he went to take another step towards his boyfriend but everything stopped as a soft hand landed on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, mister Zhang, but you're neither family nor recorded as his next-of-kin, I can't let you in until he comes around and gives permission," the nurse told him as delicately as he could and Yixing wiped his tears with the sleeves of his shirt, nodding in knowing.

"I understand," he mumbled, some coherency returning to him with the human touch, "Is it okay if I come back tomorrow and wait?"

She frowned but didn't say no, having assessed Yixing’s state as pure distress over the unconscious male, "Visiting hours are between two and six, don't come any earlier or you'll be asked to leave. If you have nowhere else to go, there's a public waiting room by the main entrance."

Yixing felt himself walking backwards, his legs moving as he stared down the hallway that Yifan had been taken on a gurney through. He had people looking at him as he made his way out on the street, blood on his shirt, face and hands like some killer.

He put his shaking hand in his pocket and unlocked it quickly, finding the closest number for whichever of his parents. There were only a few moments before the phone connected and he heard a sleepy sigh pass through the other’s lips.

"Yixing?" He heard his mother ask, groggy voice making his name catch in her throat a little more than normal.

"Mama, I'm at the hospital," he said in a sob and he could hear her waking his father immediately. "Can you come and get me?"

"What's happened?" She worried, shuffling through the house echoing through the receiver and he could hear his father asking about where the car keys were.

"I'm not hurt; I just need you to come."

Yixing cut off the phone, not wanting any more questions from his parents and he found himself crumbling against a street lamp, a shake of his lungs making his body expectorate out a cry. He could feel the few people around looking at him, either in pity or a subdued level of fear. Time scrolled by slowly until he saw the white LED lights of his mother's Mercedes roll around to park in front of where he was, both his parents scrambling to get out of the car and hold Yixing to their chests.

"Xingie, what's wrong? Tell mama what happened," his mother mumbled into his ears, hands rubbing up and down his back in the most coaxing of motions. "Where is all this blood from?"

"He-He's hurt," he whimpered weakly and he could feel his parents looking at each other over his head, their chins brushing over his bowed head. "There was so much blood and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Yixing's parents both questioned him, asking who he was talking about and what happened for him to have blood smudged down from his lips to his jaw, the dried darkness of it making it look all the more sinister. He tried to calm himself, take in deeper breaths and really feel as though he could keep himself together to come clean to his mother and father. The student stepped back and took a massive gulp of air deep into his lungs.

"I'm gay," he finally said, his father's face the picture of shock as he looked up at the slightly taller man and his mother started to become glassy eyed. "I can't keep it from you anymore, I want you to know who I am and this is it, I like other men and I can't do anything to stop it."

Things were quiet, Yixing preparing himself to retreat into his own shell and crack under the pressure of his parents' gazes. He watched them look at each other for a moment before his mother stepped forward, her arms circling around his waist slightly firmer than before.

"That's okay, Xingie," she mollified, her gentle words making him relax into her hold more than he had. "It is okay, I promise, we trust that you will know what to do to keep this low profile."

Yixing was happy that his mother had accepted his sexuality and hated the fact that she was already thinking of ways he could cover it up, to make sure that they appeared perfect to the outside world when Yixing knew he hadn't run right from a young age. He knew he was different and he could embrace that now, Yifan had taught him to live more for himself than his parents. Yifan had taught him freedom, set him loose from an enclosure that he wanted to break out of.

"I don't want to hide," he whispered.

"You're distressed, you don't know what you're saying," his father tried to argue in the most harmonious voice he could muster. "Why don't we go home and get some sleep? You can have a shower and then we will reassess in the morning."

"No," Yixing stepped back more harshly, his mother recoiling towards his father more. "I know what I want and I've wanted it for so long that I don't think one more night will make any difference on how I feel."

"Yixing-"

"I've got a boyfriend," he finally said, his heart suddenly loosening the shackles it had bound itself in, "I love him and I don't want to hide that."

Yixing's mother's face dropped, her expression completely shifting to one of complete horror, "Is that who you've been sneaking in and out of the house?"

Yixing nodded, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth and they gnawed at it nervously. He didn't look up from where he had rested his chin on his chest, the image of somebody who was ashamed of themselves and he felt guilt simmer in his gut.

"He's the one who's hurt?" His father asked quietly, seeming far more calm than his wife was portraying, "The blood is his?"

"Yes," Yixing choked, his father immediately clutching him to his chest while his mother seemed to look all the more distraught at her son's revelation. "He's really hurt and I can't see him, they won't let me. Not until his parents get there but I don't think they'll let me."

"Why?"

Yixing wrapped his arms around his father, so tightly he could feel his breathing stutter in his lungs, which only made him think of what the doctors had said about Yifan's condition, "He's the Li son."

His father, the ever calm rock of support, whispered soothing things in his ears but his mother looked outraged, her face reddening as time went on.

"We are going home," she hissed, pulling her son's hand in a harsh yank, "I can't believe you right now, Yixing, I raised you better than to go for somebody like that.

"It's okay, Xingie," his father whispered in his opposite ear, "I know you love the person that you love because they're good for you."

"Zhang Yixing," his mother yelled, making him turn to her in his father's arms to see her get into her car, "If you do not come home right now then don't bother coming home at all. We need to talk about this."

"No," Yixing whispered, his head shaking as he looked up to face her with a more defensive expression, "There is nothing to talk about, I am in love with somebody who loves me back, somebody who looks after me at times that I don't even realise that I need it. I don't want to talk about it."

"Then don't come home," she snapped loudly, drawing attention to them as she slammed her car door shut.

"Stay here, I'll try to calm her down before you try to talk to her again," his father whispered over the revving of the car engine, which showed his mother's impatience. "I love you, okay? We will make everything better; you focus on yourself and your boyfriend."

With a kiss on the head, his father turned abruptly to leave, getting into the car while Yixing started to cry again, seeking his retreat in the public waiting area.

###

Being allowed into the hospital unit where the sounds of heart monitors, oxygen being released into masks and the soft hum of people talking to patients made Yixing teeter on the edge of feeling okay. He knew which bed Yifan was in, not because his parents were sat to the side, but because a nurse had told him that it was bed number six. He walked slowly and tentatively until Yifan's father stood up from his chair to greet him, his mother not too far behind and Yixing could feel Yifan staring at him. Even with his eyes bloodshot and raw, he didn’t look away once.

"Yixing," Yifan's mother smiled warmly at him, the fact she had Yifan's gummy smile helped to soothe him into moving closer a little more confidently. "It's great to see you. Yifan has been asking for you since he woke up."

Yixing nodded, accepting the third chair at Yifan's bedside, which was opposite the two elders, and he felt his heart twinge when Yifan's fingers fidgeted towards him. It was a natural reaction to take his fingers in a slight grip and Yixing pretended not to hear the heart monitor slow to a more pleasant thud at the contact. "How is everything?"

"The operation went well," his father began, his eyes scanning over his son, who was just staring at Yixing under the swelling of his face. "His lung was salvageable, his rib only managed to puncture at the base of it and we're thankful that none of the broken ribs above cut through. No brain damage from the head wounds or any other major bone breaks, seeing as everything seemed central to his upper body. He lost a lot of blood but that's nothing that can't be fixed."

"So what now?" Yixing queried, his fingers clasping more around the man in the bed's hand and stroking his finger over it. "I mean recovery wise."

"Just letting everything heal and then things will be figured out, I think the biggest fear is infection at the minute." His mother sighed, the weariness of her voice relaying how Yixing had felt in the last twenty four hours. "Only God knows what was on that knife."

Yixing didn't say anything, his body exhausted from sleeping across hard plastic chairs and living off what he could get from vending machines or the canteen. It was physically taxing but he guessed it was worth it to be around Yifan while he was awake, to see if he was really okay.

"Well, he's in the best place for him," Yifan's father tried to appease, to coax his wife into relaxing about the situation. Yixing could see where Yifan got his caring nature from, that he exercised his most human traits because of the two people who had raised him.

Yixing sat quietly as the older couple continued to talk to each other and their silent son, the only sign that Yixing had that Yifan was even paying attention to those in the room was that his fingers were playing with Yixing's. It was a peaceful few hours, ones where time slipped by slowly until Yixing was asked to leave the ward because the visiting time slot was over and Yixing had to try to pry himself out of Yifan's hard grip. He could only do what he felt was right; he reassured Yifan that he would return and placed a gentle kiss on the small space on Yifan's face where he wasn't cut or bruised. It seemed to relax the elder, a small and silent chime that Yixing still cared for him through everything. He could see Yifan trying to smile beneath his oxygen mask and dimpled back at him, using Yifan's finger to poke the small dent before leaving.

He was walked out by Yifan's mother, who hugged him tightly to her chest and she asked how the student was getting home, to which he told her to not worry with a smile on his face. That seemed to have the reverse impact when she took in Yixing's more dishevelled state of dress and the thin sheen of grease on the curls of his hair. She assumed the truth, her hands pressing to Yixing's cheeks softly as she invited him to stay at her family home but Yixing politely declined, his claim that he was completely okay making her nod in understanding that Yixing wanted to remain close to Yifan.

Though, as the days passed, she would bring newly bought clothes and travel wash kits, which included dry shampoo for him to use. He felt cared for, like Yifan's parents really liked him and he was nervous whenever they were there watching how he interacted with Yifan. They often saw Yixing brushing his fingers through their son's hair, how they would hold hands and that Yifan would only watch Yixing when he was in the room. However, they could sense the awkward air between the younger pair.

Yixing still flinched a little if Yifan's hands moved too quickly, that Yifan looked at Yixing with sadness layering in his eyes and that Yixing didn't speak much to him. When he did talk, it was never anything major, just about the weather outside or worrying if Yifan was warm enough.

The day when Yifan started to try and use his voice more happened sooner than Yixing expected, the pain involved in having the airflow coming in and out of his lungs should have kept him unspeaking for a little while longer but Yixing knew that Yifan's pain tolerance was higher than the average person's. It made his heart thud in a deep bass when he heard his name in a scratchy baritone but smiled at the sound. It felt like a worried call, as if Yifan was wanting his attention to not slip away for a single moment. Everybody could see Yifan tiring himself out quickly, even just by speaking, and Yixing would try to get Yifan to use his touch more to communicate. But, the fighter was stubborn and wouldn't try to shut up for a moment. Not while Yixing was there.

It was when Yixing entered, almost a week later to find Yifan sat up in his bed and the connected television playing a daytime game show quietly that the younger first saw his boyfriend alone. He was unsure of whether or not he should be there if his parents weren't around, with Yifan technically being under their care while he was in the hospital. Before he could back out of seeing Yifan for the allotted four hours away, the elder saw him and immediately beckoned him over while weakly nudging the television out of his way, until Yixing came over to move it completely out of the way.

"Hey," Yixing greeted lamely, his voice catching on the single syllable but Yifan didn't seem to notice, he only tried to smile without moving his cheeks too much.

"You're always so punctual," Yifan commented, watching as Yixing took his normal seat, "As soon as the minute turns to start visiting, you're here."

"It's the least I could do," Yixing responds weakly, his body exhausted and aching all over from his uncomfortable sleeping positions. "You're the one that's stuck in this hospital all day and night."

Yifan watched Yixing, his eyes telling nothing of his emotions and the younger could feel himself cowering slightly at how plain his gaze was. A minute must have passed before Yifan sighed; rolling what little of his eyes Yixing could see under the last of the bruised swelling. "Yixing, my mother told me that you've been sleeping here, that you've not gone home since I was brought in and I think you should go home to have some real sleep."

"I would," Yixing laughed awkwardly, "but I've been kicked out."

Yifan's hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist, making him jump back slightly and the elder let him go immediately, his hand retreating back to his side like Yixing's fright had managed to burn him. There was more quiet when Yixing looked down at his knees, his body exhausted and he could finally show it in front of the fighter.

"Why were you kicked out?" Yifan's question was muted slightly, his voice relaying that he could easily guess the right answer and Yixing let his own hand initiate contact between the two of them.

"Because I'm in love with you," Yixing started to shake, his proclamation of his true feelings coming at a time when he was afraid over what and who Yifan was. It wasn't how he wanted to say it. "My mother, she's so ashamed, I wouldn't be able to face her even if I could stay at home."

There was more quiet, enough to course between them like it used to and give Yixing the kind of comfort he had been in need of since his last full conversation with Yifan.

"Would you like to stay at my apartment?"

The question made Yixing freeze, each vision of seeing Yifan sleeping in cars or staying in his parents' lavish home skirts out of his mind, his shock gripping at his throat and he tried to keep his expression schooled. "Your apartment?"

"Yeah, I've got one near the centre of the city. Halfway between my parents’ and the training house," Yifan let his fingers clasp at a notepad and pen that he used when he was too tired to vocalise his thoughts. He wrote quickly and tore the paper away before handing it to Yixing. "This is the address and the key codes."

"Yifan, I can't," he refused but the paper was placed in the hand that was holding the elder's loosely.

"Yixing, you need to rest," Yifan said quietly, one of his hands coming to touch at the student's face and he looked heartbroken as Yixing moved out of his reach. "If not because you're tired but for your health, if you've not been home then you've not been taking your medication."

Yixing looked at the scrawled writing on the piece of paper in front of him, the familiarity of the street name ringing in his head and he wondered how many times in the past seven months he had walked past Yifan's apartment without knowing that he lived there. He accepted it with strain, his mind whirling with thoughts on whether or not he would feel comfortable there, whether he would be able to accept living in Yifan’s home or if he would even want to be there.

They were quiet, the low buzz of chatter coming from Yifan’s television filling the space between them and he could feel the elder staring at him, the crown of his head growing hot under the heat of the gaze and he could almost count down the minutes before Yifan snapped.

“Do you hate me?” As if he had predicted it, Yifan spoke with a loud clarity that Yixing couldn’t explain but he wished things were quieter, as they were on a small and private but still very public ward.

Yixing shook his head.

“You flinch away from me,” Yifan pointed out, raising his palm up towards Yixing who still jolted away from the touch he used to seek out so much. “I’ve done awful things but making you react like this is the worst.”

Yixing felt himself steel over a little on the inside, “How can you say that when you’ve killed people?”

“That’s different, Yixing.”

“How is it? You have actually taken lives and you don’t even seem to regret it!” Yixing tried to keep his voice down, not wanting to alert anybody of their conversation but his whispered yells were constantly increasing in volume. “Do you know how it feels to be in love with somebody you realise that you barely know?”

“Yixing, please,” the elder tried to mitigate; his hand coming to hold around Yixing’s clenching hand firmly. “Let me explain.”

“There is nothi-”

Yifan interrupted Yixing with a louder voice, “There is, now just let me explain.” Yifan took a deep breath in, his eyes closing for peace before he looked at Yixing directly. “Let me fix this.”

Yixing didn’t have it in his heart to ignore the elder, his defences obliterating themselves to let Yifan worm his way back in and there was nothing more he could do than deflate and listen to his boyfriend.

“I want you to know that I’ve only ever killed when I was too scared in a fight to be able to control the outcome, if somebody comes for me and I know I can’t knock them out, I know it is kill or be killed on many occasions.” Yixing felt Yifan’s hand squeeze his lightly, the younger brushing off the touch easily as a natural response to their bodies touching. “I barely ever lose control of myself; I never have in a fight. Not before that night. I knew the fighter was good, that he had the potential to be a rival, that he could one day beat me but I knew I had the upper hand in that fight. I knew that if I tried that little bit harder, I could win over him easily. Trash talking and taunting,” he began to explain, his hand gripping tighter yet, “is something that happens all the time during fights. It is ingrained in each fighter to rile up and push their opponent to the edge of their control; it makes them unpredictable but easier to control. I’m usually unfussed, never fazed by the words that come from whatever fighter I am going up against but he knew my sensitive nerve.” Yifan was holding Yixing’s hand so hard that the younger knew it was subconscious, that Yifan was being angered just by thinking of whatever had been said to him during his fight. “He knew about you.”

“Me?” Yixing asked in a croak, his voice rough from sudden nerves as he began to lose feeling in the tips of his fingers.

Yifan didn’t seem to hear Yixing speak, the suddenly distant look in his eyes frightened Yixing - not through fear of what he would do but in distress over what it was doing to Yifan. “He said he would find you once he was done with me, that he would use a knife to cut his name into your skin,” Yixing began to fear that his fingers would crunch, the ends of them having gone almost completely blue. “That he would let you bleed out and then he said what he would do to you after then, when you couldn’t stop him from touching you an-”

“Yifan, you’re hurting me,” Yixing gasped loudly before he could carry on, breaking the fighter out of his reverie and pulling his attention back into the room. Yifan let him go at lightning speed, his heart rate, which had increased exponentially while he was talking, began to race wildly as he began to realise his surroundings. The student didn’t want to hear about it, he didn’t want to know what had been described to Yifan, not if it was enough to turn him into some bloodthirsty monster.

“As terrible as you think I am,” Yifan whispered, his voice frail and fragile as his energy waned. “I could never let anybody hurt you, or even consider it. I hate the fights that end up in death, I hate being a part of them when I have to take a life but I would kill a thousand times to keep you safe.”

He didn’t quite understand why that statement gave him goosebumps, whether or not they were from excitement or fear.

###

Yixing moving into Yifan’s apartment was strange at first, he had done it while the homeowner wasn’t there and he had no idea where anything was. There was no grand tour to put him in good stead for living there, nor was there anybody to guide him through what to do. He hadn’t spoken much to Yifan after his declaration of complete protection; he didn’t know how to react to it. A part of him loved Yifan for being so open about how he would keep Yixing safe but another loathed it. He didn’t want to be in a position where people could die at the hands of the man he loved because they had said something untoward. It wasn’t a normal position to be in, to be both scared and enthralled by the same man.

He let that thought linger as he scanned over the room with sharp eyes, taking in how clean it was while still looking as though it had been lived in. There were things dotted around that made Yixing think of Yifan, his personality flowing in through the bold but warm decor. It was a strange mix of feelings as though he was at home while being in a completely new place.

He lived teetering between the two for the rest of the week before Yifan was discharged, the fighter being told not to lift anything too heavy or partake in any strenuous physical activity until the doctor gave him the go ahead. It was intense trying to figure out how to live together, especially when Yixing took leave from his studies to be Yifan’s sole carer, Yixing’s ineptitude with basic domestic skills seemed to irritate Yifan, who had no energy to do anything but Yixing tried his hardest. He was earnest in all his attempts of cooking food and cleaning, Yifan often said that he knew that but it didn’t help the student when he could feel the elder’s frustration. It was easy to say that the tension between them had built. Yixing still flinched when Yifan brushed by him, he was too scared to say anything negative and he held his breath whenever he helped to change Yifan’s dressing. It was on one night, when Yifan had reached out for Yixing in bed and the younger moved onto the floor, that everything came to a crescendo.

Yixing hadn’t even left the bed yet when he heard a pained sound, his head snapping around to see Yifan sit up in the bed and he was half certain that there were tears splashed in the elder’s eyes. He watched as Yifan pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sagged forward onto the pressure, it was a strange sight of vulnerability displayed and he almost immediately crawled across the mattress to kiss Yifan happy again. But before his frozen legs could move, the fighter looked up at him. It was easy to see the heartbreak all over his face, as the swelling had gone and the bruising turned a shade of yellow.

“Do I disgust you that much?”

Yixing hadn’t thought of himself being disgusted by the elder, while he hadn’t wanted to be touched by Yifan at any point, none of that was through that feeling. It was more the fact that Yifan had killed somebody with his bare hands with such ease that frightened Yixing. “No.”

“Then why can’t I touch you? You sleep in my bed, in my clothes, and yet when I brush against you, you move away. I just want to hold you, that’s all I want. I don’t need you to speak or to hold me back; I only want to be able to feel you here.”

Yixing was speechless, his fingers beginning to tremble at his sides while he was divided by his urge to comfort Yifan or comfort himself first, “It isn’t that easy.”

“Is it because I’m unclean?” Yifan murmured, which confused Yixing because he knew Yifan had showered twice daily since his arrival from the hospital. “Because I’ve been trying to get clean, to wash everything away for you to want to touch me again. I’m really trying but maybe scrubbing isn’t enough.”

Yixing felt his chest slow to a frighteningly calm pace, his legs unsticking themselves from the floor and making their way around to Yifan. He knelt down beside the taller male, his eyes watching how Yifan’s hands pressed onto his sides and he moved his fingers to push up the plain white shirt he had been wearing to sleep in. Yixing could feel bile rise up in his throat when he took in the redness under the limited light, how the skin looked almost raw under the sores, as if they had been scratched in.

“What did you do?” He whispered, Yifan’s normally proud expression looking at him as though he was completely lost. “Yifan, whatever you have done needs to stop.”

“I’m making myself clean,” he tried to explain, his larger hands layering over Yixing’s, “I want you to feel comfortable touching me.”

“But Yifan, you’re hurting yourself,” Yixing reasoned back, folding the shirt back over the other’s body and Yifan looked so ashamed of himself. Guilt covered every inch of his face and it made Yixing see deeper, he could almost feel Yifan’s torment when he looked in his eyes. It took all he could muster to not throw up, to not feel disgusted with himself for not considering Yifan. The man who had pushed himself into a situation where he could have died for guilt.

That’s why he slowly crept onto the bed, his thighs on top of Yifan’s as he leant forward to press butterfly kisses around the edge of the elder’s soft mouth. He muttered what he felt were soothing words, things that he wanted to hear from Yifan when he was sad and he could feel the fighter relax beneath him with every small touch of their bodies. It wasn’t long until they were laying together, Yixing trying to show Yifan that he’d meant it when he said he was in love with him and the student had heard Yifan’s quiet declaration of love as they both drifted off to sleep.

That was a turning point, Yixing tried his hardest not to jolt from Yifan and had found that their living tensions eased up a little. He wasn’t sure about their relationship status, unknowing of whether or not they ever officially broke up. He didn’t want to bring the topic up, not when they were still talking things through every night, Yixing learning about Yifan’s life. About how as a child who loved his parents but was too different to stay with them, how he wanted to protect everybody but himself and how it really felt to take a life. Yixing learned that Yifan’s conscience tortured him, telling him that fighting with the intent to kill wasn’t how he wanted to continue and Yixing did nothing but stroke his hair as he said his piece. It was easy for the student to atone with his feelings, knowing that Yifan wasn’t a bad man but he was somebody good who had been backed into a corner by people who knew how to torment him. It was from there that Yixing figured out that Yang Bai was the culprit for Yifan’s misery, especially after Yifan had mentioned him and Yixing had never felt rage like it before.

His mind screamed for him to confront his classmate but his rational side told him not to, he decided that taking care of Yifan was the biggest payback, the fact that their betrayer wouldn’t have succeeded in damaging either of them permanently enough.

There were frequent visits from Yifan’s parents, their presence helped to relax the younger pair and even Yixing’s father had been over. He had dropped off clothes and medication, the latter made Yifan frantic and he made Yixing take it in front of him, but there had been an air of awkwardness surrounding the last visit made. He had made a comment on how he wanted to watch Yifan fight one day, which had made Yixing grow silent as he hadn’t even considered Yifan going back to training, let alone fighting again. But, Yifan had actually seemed eager, accepting the elder Zhang’s self-invite readily.

Nevertheless, the biggest trial they faced was Yifan’s lingering dislike for himself, the fact that he had been reduced down to somebody who had doubted his own strength and power scared Yixing. He had always known Yifan’s confidence to be through the roof, his self-assured attitude was what had let himself keep the name Duizhang and the reversal that he had seen was bewildering. He had tried coaxing Yifan into being a little rougher with him with anything, his body relaxing more around the fighter every day, and Yixing was building things up piece by piece.

It was playful and nothing too much for Yifan when they hit the nine week mark, the point where his body was beginning to regulate itself a little more easily, when they started to play fight. Even having not trained and been through what he had, Yifan pinned Yixing every time but released the younger when things became a little more passionate.

That had been until Yixing had whimpered and whined for Yifan to take him, to manhandle him because that’s what he would enjoy and that it would be proof that Yifan could use his strength to make somebody feel as though they were in utter bliss. Yixing succeeded in provoking the elder after Yifan’s first handful of thrusts into his willing body, making himself pliant and malleable for Yifan to shape him however he wanted. Maybe it had been Yixing’s whispers of love and trust that had toppled Yifan over the edge or it could have been the way that Yixing reacted so sensitively when Yifan pressed on his prostate.

Things became fast, Yixing’s hands pinned restrictively above his head as Yifan folded his legs up to get a little more depth into his swift and hard thrusts. Yixing writhed and whined under the hot touch of the elder, his body finding new levels of pleasure as Yifan leaned in to do something the younger had never experienced before. Yixing had asked to be choked, pleaded for it but it was swiftly rejected. However, Yifan used his teeth to wrap around the tender throat that Yixing had revealed with an arch of his back and clamped down, the pressure applied by both his teeth and his tilted head had Yixing gasping. He could barely breathe, his body becoming more and more stimulated by the second and he couldn’t even moan as there was no air to vibrate through his vocal chords. It was something that he knew Yifan would be able to control enough to make him feel pleasure but it was foreign enough to have adrenaline in Yixing’s bloodstream.

He came with a silent scream, convulsing as his cum splattered on Yifan’s healing chest in a mess of thick white, his body clenching around Yifan’s cock intently and the older male’s stamina meant that he had to continue on. His own orgasm striking three minutes later, a wonderful burst of fireworks before Yixing’s eyes in their dark bedroom and it had him dizzy. His head spun with how Yifan kissed over his painfully indented bite mark, both of them whispering about how Yixing would need to cover it up before their next round of visitors.

The rest of their life seemed to slip into place after that night, Yifan’s fear of hurting Yixing abolished when he saw how happy the student was and he had even begun to comfort Yixing when the strain of being apart from his mother was felt strongly. It gave them a connection, a base to build up from and it never failed to make Yixing smile when he thought of Yifan. His fear was almost gone until Yifan entered the apartment after finishing his rehab with news that he was given the all clear to train again.

That’s when hell broke free between them again, if only momentarily.

###

Yixing could feel the texture beneath his fingers, the material Yifan had called 'Mexican wrap' numerous times since he got back into his training, and it was a natural reaction to run it along his skin. It reminded him of the times when Yifan had touched him, even fucked him, when he had only just finished training. Yixing didn't mind the long hours during the day where Yifan would be absent from their twentieth floor apartment, it made him more able to study and focus on his dissertation in utter peace. It was the nights when Yixing missed the older male, his breathing enough to ease Yixing into living each day and his gentle touches, if Yixing had done something he found sublime. It made Yixing learn a little, his hands wandering through the apartment and he came across the binding materials weeks before.

At first, he had felt that betrayal that Yifan was fighting again, without Yixing's knowledge but was pleasantly surprised when there were no bruises or cuts on his boyfriend's body when he eventually got home. He had asked Yifan on a rest day how to wrap a hand for a fight, the material creating more impact in a punch, and it was Yifan's torn expression that made Yixing smile. He could see that Yixing was taking an interest and developing his knowledge of fighting but there was also the fact that doing such things would suck him back into that life. But, Yifan decided that showing Yixing couldn't hurt, that doing so could lead to some weird kind of foreplay, and Yixing could feel the pride swelling out of his boyfriend's chest when he got it right the first time.

From then it became routine, Yixing binding Yifan's hands before he left to drive to his training gym and it was something he could do perfectly in a sleepy four in the morning haze. He didn't mind being woken up when the sun was still deep below the horizon, not when it was because large hands were running through his hair and soft lips were on his face. Yixing would get home from his classes to see Yifan sleeping on their bed, his legs tangled in the sheets and arms stretched out over where Yixing would normally lay.

The younger had picked up on changes in the months during Yifan's rehabilitation process; things like his breathing calming as he figured out how to work around his damaged lung, about how frustrated he got when he couldn't let out all the energy he would expel by training and how hard the fighter pushed himself to always be better. Yixing could tell when the trainers had let Yifan spar again, he was excitable and his confidence was climbing as he started winning against his partners again. He could hear Yifan talking on the phone to one of his trainers, the soft rumblings of his deep voice was what made Yixing fall asleep most nights and things became easier when Yifan was able to do what he loved again.

Yixing had argued and cried when Yifan said he had a fight, a real life or death match. He had told him that he was stupid, that he should think of how Yixing would feel if something were to go wrong again or if Yifan had even considered how everything would impact on the younger. It made Yixing's chest heave as he finished yelling at his boyfriend, his heart thumping in his chest and he had slept in the living room for the night. Though, he had woken up in the bed clutched tightly to Yifan's chest.

There was a shift after that argument. It was their first major once since they began to live together, Yifan's worry on how his injuries had impacted on Yixing came to the surface in small loving ways and Yixing learned to slowly accept that he couldn't be the one to keep Yifan from what he loved. The younger had fallen in love with the fighter in Yifan first and in his mind, he knew Yifan's training would one day lead them back to abandoned buildings with makeshift fighting rings. The elder kept his domestic focus on Yixing with things like small kisses on the closest part of his body, lots of worshipping his unblemished body and then making sure Yixing kept on top of all his prescriptions.

Yifan had even started to miss out on sleep to attend Yixing's visits to the doctor, the woman immediately approving of Yifan when he brought out chocolate, completely unprompted by either, to give Yixing once he had his blood taken. She had even seen Yifan kiss Yixing as a catheter was used for a blood transfusion, making him forget about the pain of it and the pressure in his arm changing as he felt the blood flow in. Her comments to Yixing about the tall fighter had all been of how well looked after he had appeared since Yifan starting joining him on visits, much more than when Yixing would go alone.

That was the only thing Yifan said he hated about Yixing living with him, the fact Yixing was alone so much. Yifan had seemingly scared off Bai from bothering Yixing with physical intimidation, the younger having caught Yifan with the promoter in a chokehold in his university’s grounds. Yixing had also seen his betrayer appear to classes with a black eye and a limp, Yifan’s house having sought their own revenge for placing one of their fighter’s integrity and life in the name of money. Apparently, according to Yifan, there had also been a formal public punishment in front of a crowd and the young promoter had been penalised greatly for his wrongdoing. Yixing was glad when he realised that he had a snake weeded out of his life, but he still got angry. The fury was real when he thought back to Yifan’s weak state.

"You know, I think if you think any harder then you'll break my hands," Yifan said quietly in front of Yixing, making his brain snap to the present and look down at how tightly Yixing was tightening the bindings. "Don't over think things, Xing. Enjoy yourself and feel the excitement, share this moment with me."

Yixing nodded, looking down at where Yifan's large hands were held in his own and he loosened the fabric a little. The edges of it shook as his fingers trembled but Yifan was unmoving, always remaining steadfast in his movements. Yixing knew that Yifan was happier in the knowledge that he would fight again, that he would be able to continue with what he loved.

"Yes, Yixing," a familiar voice spoke behind him, the deep vibrations of it making Yifan smile in the corner of his eyes and Yixing looked behind himself in shock. "Have more faith in your boyfriend."

"Baba," Yixing gaped, his whole body renewing in comfort, "what are you doing here?"

"Your mother is off on one of her weekend breaks and I thought I would spend some time with my son," Yixing's father stepped forward, closer to Yixing with a caring air about him and his vibrant smile. "I don't think this is my kind of place but I want to know what had my son sneaking out of the house numerous nights in a week."

"I think it's great that you're here," Yifan spoke from behind Yixing's head, his hands still within Yixing's and clasping softly at them. "Xing has been nervous about this since I told him about this fight, which I can completely understand because I've been an idiot, and it's a relief that he won't be alone for it."

Yifan's name was called, all three men in the room reacting differently as Yixing lifted himself up to kiss Yifan's cheek, the fighter freeing his arms to stretch out and Yixing's father lingered more closely to the door. Yifan seemed to ensure to cast a look down at the student, his expression calm and reassuring which flowed straight from his eyes into Yixing's. It made the younger settle on his feet, following behind the taller male out the door and towards the room Yixing had first seen Yifan in.

He could feel his father's presence beside him, the steady and unwavering aura that had been there all his life, while Yifan jumped down into the hollow swimming pool.

There was nothing quiet about Yifan's return, everything was louder than any other fight and Yixing closed his eyes as the first hits happened. He couldn't watch. Not begin with, anyhow.

It was impossible not to feel it, not to have it running like electricity through his veins, it would always be there. The excitement and thrill of watching the man he loved physically defeating an opponent, the sense of wonder that came with the deepening of the tension. His eyes opened, the lights blinding for the first second before he managed to focus on a tall, muscular body. Yixing's nerves were suddenly gone, his whole body thrumming in want for his boyfriend’s glory. He didn't take his eyes away from Yifan, forgetting about everybody else in the large room while Yifan worked with more skill than he'd shown in previous fights. Yixing’s father even faded into the back of his mind when he looked at his boyfriend.

Yixing could feel that Yifan had been trying harder in training to soothe Yixing's built worry swirling around in his head. The fact that the elder has been arriving back at their apartment even more exhausted than he would be after one of his old fights, that he would often catch him practicing sequences in at random points in their time together and that Yifan seemed more focused than he had been before his losing fight. It was as soon as a body hit the floor, and Yifan looked up at him, that Yixing felt the explosion in the centre of his chest stronger than he ever had before. He could only smile wide enough to show his approval for what Yifan had done. He wasn’t scared, not while he had Yifan.