#31 [EXO, Lay/Lu Han]
Fandom: EXO
Title: in the light
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Lay/Luhan
Length: 1,233 words
Summary: Lu Han finds solace in empty mornings and Yixing.
Notes: Sorry to take such a happy fic and turn it into something so pensive and angsty /o\ I hope you enjoy this remix!
Remixee author: pinkjuliette
Title of work you remixed: so please unroll the curtains and watch the show
Link to work you remixed: http://pinkjuliette.livejournal.com/2546.html
For all the implications in his name, Lu Han doesn’t consider himself a morning person.
His sleeping behaviors are no secret; his foot finds any person who makes contact with his bed and he’s developed a habit of talking in his slumber. That he would enjoy a lazy morning in bed is no surprise, but being able to spend a lazy-anything is not something that comes with being an idol. Everyone, Lu Han included, values what little time they have to sleep these days. It’s a coveted thing, sleep, and as their comeback promotions and schedules build up, opportunities for it become scarcer. These days, it’s not uncommon to find someone--usually Jongin--curled up in one of the stylist chairs as they wait backstage. Even in the van, Chanyeol and Baekhyun have become less boisterous, taking the moment to get some precious shut-eye instead.
But there are some days that Lu Han likes to forego getting rest in order to rise even earlier than Minseok. On these days, he tiptoes out of the room where Sehun and Kyungsoo are usually still asleep and into the living room. There, he sits himself down on the cold tiles, head resting against the side of their couch so he can watch the sky come alive with soft pinks and yellows as the sun makes its way up over whatever horizon visible between the buildings of Seoul.
It’s quiet, on these days. Lu Han takes the time to, for once, think about nothing. Just lets his mind stay like a canvas as blank as the grayish pre-dawn sky until it’s thrown into hues just as soothing as the ones painted in the clouds.
No one’s ever caught him doing this before, and the world is serene as Seoul is in the beginnings of waking up.
One day, there’s the click of a door as Lu Han is leaning his head back against the couch cushion from his seat on the floor. He’s in that half-conscious state, awake enough to see and hear things around him, and asleep enough not to react. He can hear a pair of bare feet approaching, and when a body sits down with a sigh next to him, Lu Han doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s Yixing.
“So this is what you’ve been doing these mornings,” Yixing murmurs in Mandarin. The easy flow of the language sounds strange to Lu Han’s ears this early in the morning, having been accustomed to the harsher syllables of Korean all around him. Lu Han nods.
They sit together in silence, watching and waiting as light spills over the city ever so gradually.
“It’s beautiful,” Yixing whispers after a long period of quiet. Lu Han figures Yixing is saying it more to himself than to him, but he nods in agreement again anyways without turning away from the large picture window before them.
When Lu Han turns his head, he finds Yixing blinking to shift his eyes towards the glass, as if he’d been looking at Lu Han before.
-
They’re in China to film Big Love Concert the next time it happens. Lu Han gets put with Zitao in one room while Sehun and Yixing get paired for another. It’s all too easy to get the two to switch. Lu Han pretends like he’s doing Zitao a favor, but really, he misses rooming with Yixing. Yixing is familiar and comforting, knows Lu Han’s mind probably better than Lu Han himself does.
The hotel sheets are scratchy and the pillow’s slightly lumpy, but that’s not what keeps Lu Han up that night. He’s tired, but not the kind of tired that can be slept off within a few hours. It’s the kind of tired that sinks down into his bones and stretches itself over his skin and under his eyes until it becomes a permanent fixture, something he has to wear around at all times.
The sun hasn’t risen yet and it’s still dark, but Lu Han peels back the covers carefully and slips out of bed. In the next bed over, Yixing is still asleep, light brown hair stuck in odd angles from being pressed against the fabric of the pillow for too long. It looks fried and damaged from all the color it’s undergone, but Lu Han can’t say his hair is in any better condition. Like this, expression neutral and face dotted with fading old blemish scars, Yixing looks real. It makes something funny happen in Lu Han’s chest, and it’s on pure impulse that he bends down to brush his lips against Yixing’s cheek, just above here his dimple forms when he smiles. Yixing shifts slightly at the contact, but his eyes remain closed so Lu Han pulls away to straighten up.
He sits cross-legged on the carpet and draws the window curtains back, letting the grayish light spill into the room. It’s a lot muggier here, but the beginnings of dawn are starting to trace the sky and Lu Han leans back with his palms on the floor to watch.
He ends up dozing off slightly with his chin resting against his chest when there’s a hand on his shoulder. Lu Han looks blearily up at Yixing, who takes a seat on the floor next to him.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Yixing asks softly. Lu Han shakes his head, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Yixing hums noncommittally after that and they lapse into silence. It’s reminiscent of the time in Seoul, and Lu Han feels a tranquility settle over him. The sunrise may be less brilliant and a lot more smog-clouded, but the sun is the sun, and it casts its light over the world unfailingly.
The sky is just beginning to turn hues of cotton candy and soft yellow when Yixing speaks again.
“So, what was that kiss for, earlier?” He asks, casual as anything.
Lu Han looks up from where he’d begun to doze off again, semi-conscious state slowing his response down from what would normally have been alarm to a gradual sort of acknowledgement.
“Fanservice?” He tries, laughing a little at his own joke. Yixing smiles, dimple impressing as his eyes curve upwards. “I don’t know. Just impulse, I guess. Was it bad?”
Yixing doesn’t say anything, but he scoots over until he’s right up close with Lu Han. He takes Lu Han’s cheek in his palm, leans forward, eyes still lidded with sleep, and kisses him softly. Lu Han wants to ask what he’s doing, wants to say ‘wait’ or ‘what’s going on’ but he finds his eyes sliding shut to the warm sensation. It feels nice, and because it’s Yixing, it feels natural as anything. He feels like his lips have always belonged on Yixing’s, and it feels like coming home. He feels grounded and present, which is a great feeling after teetering between feeling like a stranger in both Korea and his home country.
They kiss lazily for a while, and it’s Yixing who pulls away first. Lu Han has to blink a few times, because when he tries to open his eyes, he finds that the grayish pre-dawn light has turned yellow and bright and the sun is well over the skyline.
“So, what was that kiss for?” Lu Han asks, smiling.
“Hm, fanservice?” Yixing replies cheekily. “Impulse?”
Lu Han laughs and decides that, for the first time in a long time, he feels okay.
Title: in the light
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Lay/Luhan
Length: 1,233 words
Summary: Lu Han finds solace in empty mornings and Yixing.
Notes: Sorry to take such a happy fic and turn it into something so pensive and angsty /o\ I hope you enjoy this remix!
Remixee author: pinkjuliette
Title of work you remixed: so please unroll the curtains and watch the show
Link to work you remixed: http://pinkjuliette.livejournal.com/2546.html
For all the implications in his name, Lu Han doesn’t consider himself a morning person.
His sleeping behaviors are no secret; his foot finds any person who makes contact with his bed and he’s developed a habit of talking in his slumber. That he would enjoy a lazy morning in bed is no surprise, but being able to spend a lazy-anything is not something that comes with being an idol. Everyone, Lu Han included, values what little time they have to sleep these days. It’s a coveted thing, sleep, and as their comeback promotions and schedules build up, opportunities for it become scarcer. These days, it’s not uncommon to find someone--usually Jongin--curled up in one of the stylist chairs as they wait backstage. Even in the van, Chanyeol and Baekhyun have become less boisterous, taking the moment to get some precious shut-eye instead.
But there are some days that Lu Han likes to forego getting rest in order to rise even earlier than Minseok. On these days, he tiptoes out of the room where Sehun and Kyungsoo are usually still asleep and into the living room. There, he sits himself down on the cold tiles, head resting against the side of their couch so he can watch the sky come alive with soft pinks and yellows as the sun makes its way up over whatever horizon visible between the buildings of Seoul.
It’s quiet, on these days. Lu Han takes the time to, for once, think about nothing. Just lets his mind stay like a canvas as blank as the grayish pre-dawn sky until it’s thrown into hues just as soothing as the ones painted in the clouds.
No one’s ever caught him doing this before, and the world is serene as Seoul is in the beginnings of waking up.
One day, there’s the click of a door as Lu Han is leaning his head back against the couch cushion from his seat on the floor. He’s in that half-conscious state, awake enough to see and hear things around him, and asleep enough not to react. He can hear a pair of bare feet approaching, and when a body sits down with a sigh next to him, Lu Han doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s Yixing.
“So this is what you’ve been doing these mornings,” Yixing murmurs in Mandarin. The easy flow of the language sounds strange to Lu Han’s ears this early in the morning, having been accustomed to the harsher syllables of Korean all around him. Lu Han nods.
They sit together in silence, watching and waiting as light spills over the city ever so gradually.
“It’s beautiful,” Yixing whispers after a long period of quiet. Lu Han figures Yixing is saying it more to himself than to him, but he nods in agreement again anyways without turning away from the large picture window before them.
When Lu Han turns his head, he finds Yixing blinking to shift his eyes towards the glass, as if he’d been looking at Lu Han before.
-
They’re in China to film Big Love Concert the next time it happens. Lu Han gets put with Zitao in one room while Sehun and Yixing get paired for another. It’s all too easy to get the two to switch. Lu Han pretends like he’s doing Zitao a favor, but really, he misses rooming with Yixing. Yixing is familiar and comforting, knows Lu Han’s mind probably better than Lu Han himself does.
The hotel sheets are scratchy and the pillow’s slightly lumpy, but that’s not what keeps Lu Han up that night. He’s tired, but not the kind of tired that can be slept off within a few hours. It’s the kind of tired that sinks down into his bones and stretches itself over his skin and under his eyes until it becomes a permanent fixture, something he has to wear around at all times.
The sun hasn’t risen yet and it’s still dark, but Lu Han peels back the covers carefully and slips out of bed. In the next bed over, Yixing is still asleep, light brown hair stuck in odd angles from being pressed against the fabric of the pillow for too long. It looks fried and damaged from all the color it’s undergone, but Lu Han can’t say his hair is in any better condition. Like this, expression neutral and face dotted with fading old blemish scars, Yixing looks real. It makes something funny happen in Lu Han’s chest, and it’s on pure impulse that he bends down to brush his lips against Yixing’s cheek, just above here his dimple forms when he smiles. Yixing shifts slightly at the contact, but his eyes remain closed so Lu Han pulls away to straighten up.
He sits cross-legged on the carpet and draws the window curtains back, letting the grayish light spill into the room. It’s a lot muggier here, but the beginnings of dawn are starting to trace the sky and Lu Han leans back with his palms on the floor to watch.
He ends up dozing off slightly with his chin resting against his chest when there’s a hand on his shoulder. Lu Han looks blearily up at Yixing, who takes a seat on the floor next to him.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Yixing asks softly. Lu Han shakes his head, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Yixing hums noncommittally after that and they lapse into silence. It’s reminiscent of the time in Seoul, and Lu Han feels a tranquility settle over him. The sunrise may be less brilliant and a lot more smog-clouded, but the sun is the sun, and it casts its light over the world unfailingly.
The sky is just beginning to turn hues of cotton candy and soft yellow when Yixing speaks again.
“So, what was that kiss for, earlier?” He asks, casual as anything.
Lu Han looks up from where he’d begun to doze off again, semi-conscious state slowing his response down from what would normally have been alarm to a gradual sort of acknowledgement.
“Fanservice?” He tries, laughing a little at his own joke. Yixing smiles, dimple impressing as his eyes curve upwards. “I don’t know. Just impulse, I guess. Was it bad?”
Yixing doesn’t say anything, but he scoots over until he’s right up close with Lu Han. He takes Lu Han’s cheek in his palm, leans forward, eyes still lidded with sleep, and kisses him softly. Lu Han wants to ask what he’s doing, wants to say ‘wait’ or ‘what’s going on’ but he finds his eyes sliding shut to the warm sensation. It feels nice, and because it’s Yixing, it feels natural as anything. He feels like his lips have always belonged on Yixing’s, and it feels like coming home. He feels grounded and present, which is a great feeling after teetering between feeling like a stranger in both Korea and his home country.
They kiss lazily for a while, and it’s Yixing who pulls away first. Lu Han has to blink a few times, because when he tries to open his eyes, he finds that the grayish pre-dawn light has turned yellow and bright and the sun is well over the skyline.
“So, what was that kiss for?” Lu Han asks, smiling.
“Hm, fanservice?” Yixing replies cheekily. “Impulse?”
Lu Han laughs and decides that, for the first time in a long time, he feels okay.