118. FANFIC: "Weight of Dreams"
Title: Weight of Dreams
Fandom: EXO
Pairing/Characters: kaixing / kailay / Kai & Lay
Genre: angst
Words: ~800
Rating: G
Summary: “There’s an entire history that Jongin and Yixing share, even beyond the stories the twinge of pain from old injuries can tell, and Jongin puts everything they have into that embrace.”
Inspired by the kailay hug at the awards ceremony where EXO won their first award.
For a moment, it’s just the two of them in a very big world.
Jongin knows he’s hugging Yixing a little too tightly from the almost imperceptible wince Yixing gives (he’s a master when it comes to hiding injuries, even from Jongin - but Yixing often forgets, dancers know each other’s bodies well). And it’s in that little wince Yixing betrays that Jongin can physically feel all the pain from Yixing's countless past injuries. First the waist, then the lower back, and then an Achilles tendon. Calf muscles too, occasionally. There’s so many, but Jongin knows each one on Yixing’s body and Yixing knows each one on Jongin’s body and sometimes - sometimes the lines are so blurred that Jongin isn’t even sure which ones are his anymore.
He knows he’s hugging Yixing a little too tightly but he honestly can’t help it. Because there’s nothing spontaneous or spur-of-the-moment about the way Jongin draws Yixing into a hug. There’s an entire history that Jongin and Yixing share, even beyond the stories the twinge of pain from old injuries can tell, and Jongin puts everything they have into that embrace. Between Jongin and Yixing - between the reclusive dancing star and the soft-spoken, unassuming jack-of-all-trades performer - there’s the numbness that overtakes their bodies when they’ve practiced for one hour too long (let’s go through it again, one more time);
the uncertainty Jongin feels over what to do every night he has overheard Yixing cry himself to sleep next to the phone, arms wrapped tight around his skinny body to prevent himself from dialing home;
the exchange of half-apprehensive, half-awed whispers in the dark quiet of the dorm - what if hard work isn’t good enough? - over a shared bowl of cheap, instant ramen;
the little smile Yixing gives when he pretends not to notice Jongin slipping him an extra helping of the homemade mandu his older sisters send to their dorm because Yixing doesn’t have family nearby to send care packages;
the time Jongin discovers that bullies have hidden Yixing’s winter coat from him and refuses to wear his own down jacket when Yixing wouldn’t take it (you’re so stupid, Yixing had said, while walking back to the dorms through the cold);
because what are Jongin and Yixing - what is Yixing without the weight of his dreams?
Perhaps I shouldn’t dream to reach a place so high, he once said to Jongin. The height alone will drag me down.
He said it, but he didn’t believe it. Because if Yixing believes in anything, it’s hard work. Jongin has been beside Yixing, watching him put down his head and work, work, work, for the past four, almost five years with no promise of anything.
(Yixing bottles everything up inside until there’s no room left, until everything pours out.)
Which is why, for Jongin, sitting in the audience while watching Yixing and the five other members give their acceptance speech had been torture. He watched every tear trail down Yixing’s face and wondered how many have hit the floor of the stage, and how many have hit the floor of the practice room back in Seoul in the past years. His nose burned when Yixing was crying so hard he couldn’t speak; his vision blurred when Yixing gave his thank you speech and bowed low (perfectly ninety degrees, always).
So he puts everything into that hug the second he gets the chance. Jongin hugs him so tight, he can feel Yixing’s lips against his collarbone through the edge of his clothing and the tears and snot moistening the side of his neck. He wants to catch every single tear drop, all the ones that are falling and all the ones that should have fallen but never did - not so that they can be bottled up again like Yixing does but so that Jongin can show the world: these are Yixing’s dreams. This one is for Yixing breaking his back, this is for every ache for home, this is for every ounce of pressure he’s put on himself.
“You did it, hyung,” Jongin says. He lets out a happy, choking sob.
“We did it,” Yixing mumbles against his chest, arms snaking across Jongin’s back, fingers digging into the flashy gold material of Jongin’s stage clothing. “This award is ours.” Yixing’s grip tightens and it’s now Jongin’s turn to give a little wince of pain. “Thanks for dreaming with me, Jongin.”
For a moment it’s Jongin and Yixing and the world again; there’s no stage, no ecstatically screaming fans - it’s just like the days when they were young (younger; they’re still young) and when they had a few less injuries marking their bodies with fewer stories to tell. All that’s different now is that they have the weight of the award in Yixing’s hand; and nothing else matters, because Jongin and Yixing have been, and always will be, grounded by their dreams.
--
Author’s Note: You knew this was coming, right. How could something like a kailay hug pass by me without a fic written about it, haha. In reality, according to some fancams, I think the kailay hug happened when EXO-M was announced as the winner, ie before Lay starts crying on stage after accepting the award. But I started writing this before I saw the fancams and this is how I imagined it happening the moment I saw the picture, so I’ve made it so that the kailay hug happens after the award was given.
This is so unpolished lol. Just a drabble. This might turn into something longer in the future, idk.
Thanks for reading!
Fandom: EXO
Pairing/Characters: kaixing / kailay / Kai & Lay
Genre: angst
Words: ~800
Rating: G
Summary: “There’s an entire history that Jongin and Yixing share, even beyond the stories the twinge of pain from old injuries can tell, and Jongin puts everything they have into that embrace.”
Inspired by the kailay hug at the awards ceremony where EXO won their first award.
For a moment, it’s just the two of them in a very big world.
Jongin knows he’s hugging Yixing a little too tightly from the almost imperceptible wince Yixing gives (he’s a master when it comes to hiding injuries, even from Jongin - but Yixing often forgets, dancers know each other’s bodies well). And it’s in that little wince Yixing betrays that Jongin can physically feel all the pain from Yixing's countless past injuries. First the waist, then the lower back, and then an Achilles tendon. Calf muscles too, occasionally. There’s so many, but Jongin knows each one on Yixing’s body and Yixing knows each one on Jongin’s body and sometimes - sometimes the lines are so blurred that Jongin isn’t even sure which ones are his anymore.
He knows he’s hugging Yixing a little too tightly but he honestly can’t help it. Because there’s nothing spontaneous or spur-of-the-moment about the way Jongin draws Yixing into a hug. There’s an entire history that Jongin and Yixing share, even beyond the stories the twinge of pain from old injuries can tell, and Jongin puts everything they have into that embrace. Between Jongin and Yixing - between the reclusive dancing star and the soft-spoken, unassuming jack-of-all-trades performer - there’s the numbness that overtakes their bodies when they’ve practiced for one hour too long (let’s go through it again, one more time);
the uncertainty Jongin feels over what to do every night he has overheard Yixing cry himself to sleep next to the phone, arms wrapped tight around his skinny body to prevent himself from dialing home;
the exchange of half-apprehensive, half-awed whispers in the dark quiet of the dorm - what if hard work isn’t good enough? - over a shared bowl of cheap, instant ramen;
the little smile Yixing gives when he pretends not to notice Jongin slipping him an extra helping of the homemade mandu his older sisters send to their dorm because Yixing doesn’t have family nearby to send care packages;
the time Jongin discovers that bullies have hidden Yixing’s winter coat from him and refuses to wear his own down jacket when Yixing wouldn’t take it (you’re so stupid, Yixing had said, while walking back to the dorms through the cold);
because what are Jongin and Yixing - what is Yixing without the weight of his dreams?
Perhaps I shouldn’t dream to reach a place so high, he once said to Jongin. The height alone will drag me down.
He said it, but he didn’t believe it. Because if Yixing believes in anything, it’s hard work. Jongin has been beside Yixing, watching him put down his head and work, work, work, for the past four, almost five years with no promise of anything.
(Yixing bottles everything up inside until there’s no room left, until everything pours out.)
Which is why, for Jongin, sitting in the audience while watching Yixing and the five other members give their acceptance speech had been torture. He watched every tear trail down Yixing’s face and wondered how many have hit the floor of the stage, and how many have hit the floor of the practice room back in Seoul in the past years. His nose burned when Yixing was crying so hard he couldn’t speak; his vision blurred when Yixing gave his thank you speech and bowed low (perfectly ninety degrees, always).
So he puts everything into that hug the second he gets the chance. Jongin hugs him so tight, he can feel Yixing’s lips against his collarbone through the edge of his clothing and the tears and snot moistening the side of his neck. He wants to catch every single tear drop, all the ones that are falling and all the ones that should have fallen but never did - not so that they can be bottled up again like Yixing does but so that Jongin can show the world: these are Yixing’s dreams. This one is for Yixing breaking his back, this is for every ache for home, this is for every ounce of pressure he’s put on himself.
“You did it, hyung,” Jongin says. He lets out a happy, choking sob.
“We did it,” Yixing mumbles against his chest, arms snaking across Jongin’s back, fingers digging into the flashy gold material of Jongin’s stage clothing. “This award is ours.” Yixing’s grip tightens and it’s now Jongin’s turn to give a little wince of pain. “Thanks for dreaming with me, Jongin.”
For a moment it’s Jongin and Yixing and the world again; there’s no stage, no ecstatically screaming fans - it’s just like the days when they were young (younger; they’re still young) and when they had a few less injuries marking their bodies with fewer stories to tell. All that’s different now is that they have the weight of the award in Yixing’s hand; and nothing else matters, because Jongin and Yixing have been, and always will be, grounded by their dreams.
--
Author’s Note: You knew this was coming, right. How could something like a kailay hug pass by me without a fic written about it, haha. In reality, according to some fancams, I think the kailay hug happened when EXO-M was announced as the winner, ie before Lay starts crying on stage after accepting the award. But I started writing this before I saw the fancams and this is how I imagined it happening the moment I saw the picture, so I’ve made it so that the kailay hug happens after the award was given.
This is so unpolished lol. Just a drabble. This might turn into something longer in the future, idk.
Thanks for reading!