[TC/012] Flames To A Fire [Chen/Lay, PG-13]
Title: Flames To A Fire
Pairing: Chen/Lay
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, General/Romance
Length: one-shot
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Summary: There is no light bright enough for this darkness, and they find a spark that leads them down the wrong path- the only "right" path for them, to be honest.
Warning: UNBETA'D. Rusty. Rushed.
They stand still in the darkness, surrounded by the fogs of dusk, breathing heavily as their hearts begin to moderate its beating again, glistening sweat staining their foreheads. Every breath of cold air taken in stings their throats, every breath released gives birth to a puff of white lingering from their lips.
Jongdae watches as Yixing lights up a match, the stick scratching against the outer surface of the small box. They wait as the match burns out, bright and blinding in the gradually fading evening, and Jongdae manages to slap the dying fire out of Yixing’s hand before it burns the tips of his fingers.
They look each other in the eyes, Jongdae’s expression deep and serious, and Yixing laughs.
He tosses the dead matchstick aside and continues walking, head thrown back as he tries to admire the darkening skies through the fog. Jongdae follows behind him, eyes on the ground.
They walk in silence-silence being their only comfort in their world of questions.
-
They walk the rest of their way to the bar where they’ve promised to meet their friends.
Somewhere along the way, Yixing slides his hand into Jongdae’s and holds it firmly. Their fingers don’t fit very nicely, and Yixing doesn’t really know exactly how hard he’s gripping Jongdae because the freezing air has numbed his fingers, but they settle well with each other eventually.
Much too naturally, Jongdae thinks, but he doesn’t make any move to push Yixing away.
When they arrive at the bar, Jongdae almost forgets that they’re still holding hands.
Their friends, circled around a small table by the bar, greet them with hearty waves and knowing smiles-expectant, but Jongdae doesn’t know how to read the expectation in their eyes. He quickly lets go of Yixing’s hand and situates himself between Kyungsoo and Junmyeon.
Yixing glances at his suddenly empty hands and laughs dryly.
The music is too loud; there are too many voices, too many cold bottles being passed around. There are too many bodies; too many people forced into this tiny space, too many strangers shoved up against them on the dance floor.
They’re staring directly at each other, every nerve in their bodies tightened as they dance along to the beat. Jongdae would never admit thinking that the music suits Yixing beautifully, but it does.
The distance between them is almost numbing and although they’re separated by a couple too many people, Jongdae can’t stop looking-he can’t stop wondering, wondering how the moves look on Yixing, when Yixing is so close, yet, still so far away.
Jongdae can’t breathe.
“Where are you going?” Chanyeol asks, and reaches out for Jongdae’s forearm before he latter has a chance to slip away.
The shorter man leans over and shouts, “Restroom,” before shrugging out of Chanyeol’s hold and making his way through the crowd.
Xiumin raises a brow when he sees Yixing following closely behind Jongdae, giving Chanyeol a questionable look to which the younger shrugs his shoulder, and purses his lips. Things have been awkward around those two lately, and neither of them, nor their other friends, know why.
“Hey.”
Before Jongdae can turn around and respond to the familiar, gentle voice, Yixing shoves him against the wall and corners him in, allowing him no possible escape from their position. He looks up, eyes wide and his breath hot against Yixing’s nose.
“What are you so scared of?” Yixing laughs.
Unfortunately, Jongdae doesn’t find any of this is funny. “You,” He replies honestly, and the aura in Yixing’s previously easy-going eyes hardens.
No one takes notice of them in the hallway, people passing back and forth around them without so much as a glance, and Jongdae feels a lump in his throat, his chest constricting in the most painful way. He lifts a hand to Yixing’s chest and tries to push him away, but the other man doesn’t budge.
“Why?” Yixing asks.
He hesitates. “The rules don’t allow things like this-like you and me, together.”
Yixing grins, his smile all too confident. “There are no rules in my book. Why don’t we play my way, Jongdae? I’m good a igniting fire with a match, but maybe I can be better at making more than just a simple spark with you.”
They stand still for a few moments, but Jongdae doesn’t have an answer.
Yixing smirks when Jongdae parts his lips with no words to speak and, in the blink of an eye, he crashes forward and weaves one hand through Jongdae’s hair. No matter how much Jongdae resists, thrashes and tries to shove him off, Yixing doesn’t give in, only tugging back on Jongdae’s hair and pushing him up harder against the wall.
Their bodies are pressed up against each other so hard that Jongdae can feel Yixing’s heartbeat against his own chest. It hurts, it’s bitter, but Yixing doesn’t seem to care and Jongdae doesn’t know what to do-he’s lost and slowly losing focus, falling.
Eventually, Jongdae gives in. It’s hot and cold at the same time, too many things going on at once, and he blames it on the alcohol, on the loud music, on the sounds escaping Yixing’s lips and invading his ears, on the way Yixing’s breath melts with his and smears against his mouth like frosting on a cake.
He gradually wraps his arms over Yixing’s neck and pulls him closer, responding to the kiss with more enthusiasm and ambition than before.
It’s embarrassing, but he recognizes the small laugh in the back of Yixing’s throat when he relaxes and Yixing slips a leg between his and his breath hitches.
When he closes his eyes, he sees a spark of light in the fog of darkness behind his lids. He recognizes it as Yixing’s smile-his genuine smile.
As Yixing finally pulls away, Jongdae begins to gasp for air, hands fisted on Yixing’s arms. The other man chuckles and ruffles his hair, leaning his forehead on Jongdae’s shoulder. Amidst the chaos occurring around them, he hears the soft, comforting mutter of Yixing’s voice in his ears.
“Let me take you away.”
Jongdae allows his eyes to flutter close again, a smile slowly easing its way to his lips. He lowers his head and glances to the side, eyes meeting with familiar ones.
Kyungsoo gapes, and Jongdae tries to come up with an excuse while suddenly pushing Yixing off of himself. Yixing stumbles over his feet at the sudden force and scowls, following Jongdae’s line of sight. He laughs when he sees Chanyeol and Xiumin being pulled away by Junmyeon and Kyungsoo.
“Let’s go,” he says, and takes Jongdae by the hand.
This time, Jongdae decides not to let go. “Where to?”
“To a pit of fire.” Yixing jokes, and Jongdae laughs with him. They work their way out of the club, slipping past their friends and all too many strangers, and pace their way down the busy night city streets.
Jongdae stays close to Yixing’s side, their arms brushing against each other every now and then. Their palms are hot and sweaty in the freezing weather, but neither has the desire to let go. They don’t look back, and neither wants to step away from the path they are walking on now.
Even if they burn, the pain scorching on their skin until it bruises and scars, they reckon that they’ll find comfort in their staggered breaths, side by side.
In the mists of the fog, they can’t see the road ahead.
Yixing lights another match and holds it out in front of them. Jongdae watches, he watches the way it sizzles and smokes in the darkness. Then, he reaches out and holds the stem with Yixing, smiling.
The fire on the matchstick hilts and Jongdae sees the smirk on Yixing’s face. He throws the stick aside and laughter bubbles on his mouth when Jongdae grabs him by the collar and lures him in for a fast one.
“You taste like fireworks.” Yixing teases. The other man ignores him and weaves their hands together again. Their fingertips sting, but the pain slowly numbs in the frosty coldness of the night air.
It’s the beginning of their story; the flames to their fire igniting wildly with a simple matchstick. It’s a bitter romance, one that begins and ends with a painful burning.
This all starts from zero and ends with nothing-a crushing heartthrob, their heart, their everything.
END
-
Read Nyx's version of Chen/Lay [Fog] here (COMING SOON).
-
[ [TC/011]: Henry/Xiumin [Whispers] ] ♦ [ [TC/013]: Author's Choice [Pinwheels] ]
-
A/N: I have nothing to say for myself, really. This is inspired by the song 燃點 (Igniting Point) by 胡夏 (Hu Xia). Though this isn't the best I can make it, I hope it suffices as something? Thank you for reading! ♥
Pairing: Chen/Lay
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU, General/Romance
Length: one-shot
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, SME does. Plot is mine.
Summary: There is no light bright enough for this darkness, and they find a spark that leads them down the wrong path- the only "right" path for them, to be honest.
Warning: UNBETA'D. Rusty. Rushed.
They stand still in the darkness, surrounded by the fogs of dusk, breathing heavily as their hearts begin to moderate its beating again, glistening sweat staining their foreheads. Every breath of cold air taken in stings their throats, every breath released gives birth to a puff of white lingering from their lips.
Jongdae watches as Yixing lights up a match, the stick scratching against the outer surface of the small box. They wait as the match burns out, bright and blinding in the gradually fading evening, and Jongdae manages to slap the dying fire out of Yixing’s hand before it burns the tips of his fingers.
They look each other in the eyes, Jongdae’s expression deep and serious, and Yixing laughs.
He tosses the dead matchstick aside and continues walking, head thrown back as he tries to admire the darkening skies through the fog. Jongdae follows behind him, eyes on the ground.
They walk in silence-silence being their only comfort in their world of questions.
-
They walk the rest of their way to the bar where they’ve promised to meet their friends.
Somewhere along the way, Yixing slides his hand into Jongdae’s and holds it firmly. Their fingers don’t fit very nicely, and Yixing doesn’t really know exactly how hard he’s gripping Jongdae because the freezing air has numbed his fingers, but they settle well with each other eventually.
Much too naturally, Jongdae thinks, but he doesn’t make any move to push Yixing away.
When they arrive at the bar, Jongdae almost forgets that they’re still holding hands.
Their friends, circled around a small table by the bar, greet them with hearty waves and knowing smiles-expectant, but Jongdae doesn’t know how to read the expectation in their eyes. He quickly lets go of Yixing’s hand and situates himself between Kyungsoo and Junmyeon.
Yixing glances at his suddenly empty hands and laughs dryly.
The music is too loud; there are too many voices, too many cold bottles being passed around. There are too many bodies; too many people forced into this tiny space, too many strangers shoved up against them on the dance floor.
They’re staring directly at each other, every nerve in their bodies tightened as they dance along to the beat. Jongdae would never admit thinking that the music suits Yixing beautifully, but it does.
The distance between them is almost numbing and although they’re separated by a couple too many people, Jongdae can’t stop looking-he can’t stop wondering, wondering how the moves look on Yixing, when Yixing is so close, yet, still so far away.
Jongdae can’t breathe.
“Where are you going?” Chanyeol asks, and reaches out for Jongdae’s forearm before he latter has a chance to slip away.
The shorter man leans over and shouts, “Restroom,” before shrugging out of Chanyeol’s hold and making his way through the crowd.
Xiumin raises a brow when he sees Yixing following closely behind Jongdae, giving Chanyeol a questionable look to which the younger shrugs his shoulder, and purses his lips. Things have been awkward around those two lately, and neither of them, nor their other friends, know why.
“Hey.”
Before Jongdae can turn around and respond to the familiar, gentle voice, Yixing shoves him against the wall and corners him in, allowing him no possible escape from their position. He looks up, eyes wide and his breath hot against Yixing’s nose.
“What are you so scared of?” Yixing laughs.
Unfortunately, Jongdae doesn’t find any of this is funny. “You,” He replies honestly, and the aura in Yixing’s previously easy-going eyes hardens.
No one takes notice of them in the hallway, people passing back and forth around them without so much as a glance, and Jongdae feels a lump in his throat, his chest constricting in the most painful way. He lifts a hand to Yixing’s chest and tries to push him away, but the other man doesn’t budge.
“Why?” Yixing asks.
He hesitates. “The rules don’t allow things like this-like you and me, together.”
Yixing grins, his smile all too confident. “There are no rules in my book. Why don’t we play my way, Jongdae? I’m good a igniting fire with a match, but maybe I can be better at making more than just a simple spark with you.”
They stand still for a few moments, but Jongdae doesn’t have an answer.
Yixing smirks when Jongdae parts his lips with no words to speak and, in the blink of an eye, he crashes forward and weaves one hand through Jongdae’s hair. No matter how much Jongdae resists, thrashes and tries to shove him off, Yixing doesn’t give in, only tugging back on Jongdae’s hair and pushing him up harder against the wall.
Their bodies are pressed up against each other so hard that Jongdae can feel Yixing’s heartbeat against his own chest. It hurts, it’s bitter, but Yixing doesn’t seem to care and Jongdae doesn’t know what to do-he’s lost and slowly losing focus, falling.
Eventually, Jongdae gives in. It’s hot and cold at the same time, too many things going on at once, and he blames it on the alcohol, on the loud music, on the sounds escaping Yixing’s lips and invading his ears, on the way Yixing’s breath melts with his and smears against his mouth like frosting on a cake.
He gradually wraps his arms over Yixing’s neck and pulls him closer, responding to the kiss with more enthusiasm and ambition than before.
It’s embarrassing, but he recognizes the small laugh in the back of Yixing’s throat when he relaxes and Yixing slips a leg between his and his breath hitches.
When he closes his eyes, he sees a spark of light in the fog of darkness behind his lids. He recognizes it as Yixing’s smile-his genuine smile.
As Yixing finally pulls away, Jongdae begins to gasp for air, hands fisted on Yixing’s arms. The other man chuckles and ruffles his hair, leaning his forehead on Jongdae’s shoulder. Amidst the chaos occurring around them, he hears the soft, comforting mutter of Yixing’s voice in his ears.
“Let me take you away.”
Jongdae allows his eyes to flutter close again, a smile slowly easing its way to his lips. He lowers his head and glances to the side, eyes meeting with familiar ones.
Kyungsoo gapes, and Jongdae tries to come up with an excuse while suddenly pushing Yixing off of himself. Yixing stumbles over his feet at the sudden force and scowls, following Jongdae’s line of sight. He laughs when he sees Chanyeol and Xiumin being pulled away by Junmyeon and Kyungsoo.
“Let’s go,” he says, and takes Jongdae by the hand.
This time, Jongdae decides not to let go. “Where to?”
“To a pit of fire.” Yixing jokes, and Jongdae laughs with him. They work their way out of the club, slipping past their friends and all too many strangers, and pace their way down the busy night city streets.
Jongdae stays close to Yixing’s side, their arms brushing against each other every now and then. Their palms are hot and sweaty in the freezing weather, but neither has the desire to let go. They don’t look back, and neither wants to step away from the path they are walking on now.
Even if they burn, the pain scorching on their skin until it bruises and scars, they reckon that they’ll find comfort in their staggered breaths, side by side.
In the mists of the fog, they can’t see the road ahead.
Yixing lights another match and holds it out in front of them. Jongdae watches, he watches the way it sizzles and smokes in the darkness. Then, he reaches out and holds the stem with Yixing, smiling.
The fire on the matchstick hilts and Jongdae sees the smirk on Yixing’s face. He throws the stick aside and laughter bubbles on his mouth when Jongdae grabs him by the collar and lures him in for a fast one.
“You taste like fireworks.” Yixing teases. The other man ignores him and weaves their hands together again. Their fingertips sting, but the pain slowly numbs in the frosty coldness of the night air.
It’s the beginning of their story; the flames to their fire igniting wildly with a simple matchstick. It’s a bitter romance, one that begins and ends with a painful burning.
This all starts from zero and ends with nothing-a crushing heartthrob, their heart, their everything.
END
-
Read Nyx's version of Chen/Lay [Fog] here (COMING SOON).
-
[ [TC/011]: Henry/Xiumin [Whispers] ] ♦ [ [TC/013]: Author's Choice [Pinwheels] ]
-
A/N: I have nothing to say for myself, really. This is inspired by the song 燃點 (Igniting Point) by 胡夏 (Hu Xia). Though this isn't the best I can make it, I hope it suffices as something? Thank you for reading! ♥