Prompt Outburst Fills!
Finally, these are the last fills for my prompt ouburst! YEY! I'm sorry it took so long, I didn't initially intend to drag this on, but a lot happened and I seemingly lost any scarce writing abilities. But now: here it is! I just want to thank a few people: To Chanel (vivacelavida who's been putting up with me messaging her at ungodly hours to check on my progress), to Gee (eunteuks who so kindly reads WHATEVER i ask her to just because she's that great of a friend), to Lu ge (niiceweather who never complains that I give her Luhan related nicknames and never refuses playing beta whenever needed), to Hannah (kojafras my writing partner of unfinished businesses hahahaha).
And to my prompters: I'm sorry all of these stories have such a fast pace. I took some liberty with what you gave me (forgive me for that as well) and transfigured into this mess of words. I hope you like it anyway ;; Thank you for trusting me with this ♥
BTW you can all talk to me at twitter??? orz
fuse // fanxing // 1,3k // for els_els
A/N: Hi! You gave me two great prompts, I tried to make the best of the one I've chosen. Thank you <3
Looking at old photographs sometimes is, to Yixing, the same as reviving the moment. It feels as if he's slipping right across the paper frames, diving head first into what once was. It usually happens at Fridays, mostly when he's alone and tired of the staleness of routine. On these days, he gets home anxious - no, he is anxious to leave work, home is just a refuge -, pours himself a glass of water and undresses while staring out the window of his bedroom. Living at one of the highest buildings in Seoul he certainly has some view to appreciate, the city lights burn and shimmer at him but Yixing is completely blind to whatever they try to show.
Some days he simply seats at his window bench, legs brought to his chest and arms tightly wrapped around as if hugging himself would bring some sort of comfort. It doesn't. It's been too long since something was comforting enough, and perhaps, to Yixing, is time to come looking for it.
Finding the photographs is the easy part; they're just hidden inside a box that's tucked under his bed. There's no dust on it and that's whether a sign of Yixing's anal cleaning routines or an indication of his constant searching. The feeling is the same as he inspects the pictures nevertheless. Longing.
-
Before Kris Wu there was Wu Yifan, slack student in need of discipline lessons and Zhang Yixing's safe person. Even before, there was just Yifan, the new boy on the neighborhood and Yixing's best friend.
They met on a classroom and quickly evolved to irrevocable friendship. From a 24/7 contact status, it moved to something else. Something neither of them were exactly sure of, but headed into it anyway. It was Yifan who did it first, with bold fingers to the back of Yixing's neck and arms too eager to hug closer and chest aching to breathe nearer. It didn't take Yixing much to give in, he already felt like everything he was belonged to Yifan.
Yixing never was much of a suspicious person, he wanted to believe in goodness and that people would never hurt other people without a reasonable answer, even if hurting isn't exactly reasonable. Being that way made it easy for Yifan to carve himself deep into Yixing's body, to turn every part of Yixing's life a constant reminder of him.
Then Yifan was scouted to be model. He was only seventeen and the development was quick. One week for tests, one week for experimental jobs and one week for moving arrangements. Seemed to Yixing that life intended to surprise him in a bad way. In less than a month, he lost his best friend and everything else.
Of course they managed to keep in touch after Yifan’s moved to Canada, their jokes were still the same and that same shiver still ran across Yixing's spine whenever Yifan said he missed him. However, time worked its curse and suddenly everything changed. Yifan worked too much, Yixing had too much to study, Yifan had new friends and a whole new life far more interesting and exciting than the staleness of Zhang Yixing.
Then the emails weren't replied, the calls weren't answered and Seoul seemed light years apart from Canada.
Four years later Zhang Yixing can't quite bring himself to give up. He still sends emails, some of them are replied within time, and he keeps up with Yifan through news, although it doesn't feel the same.
-
It’s cold, too cold for his liking. The arms around his waist aren’t enough protection from the low temperature, and despite its tightness around him, Yixing still manages to slip off the bed and out of the man’s grasp. Before covering his skin with the soft silk of his robe, Yixing gives Chanyeol a good look on the bed, a mess of brown, perfectly trimmed hair and toned arms. Chanyeol is the portrait of everything someone like Yixing could ever want - handsome, successful and caring. Yet, he can’t quite pin down the reason behind these occasional dates between the two of them. Whenever Chanyeol asks Yixing out, he cannot bring himself to decline.
The computer is right there, within his reach, and he knows it’s 2pm in Canada right now, so he wouldn’t be exactly bothering with a skype call.
Waiting for the call to be answered feels longer than usual, Yixing throwing rushed glances over his shoulder to where Chanyeol lies on the bed and back to the computer screen until a face he knows all too well appears.
It’s like every muscle in his face relaxes once Yifan smiles at him.
“Hey Yixing,” he says, fingers sliding through his messed blonde hair. “Why are you calling so late?”
Yixing shakes his head, “It’s not that late,”
“It’s 3 in the morning for you, right?” Yifan squints at him; he’s not looking at Yixing, but past him. “Is there someone on your bed?”
“It’s Chanyeol,” Yixing hurries in explaining. “He’s had too much to drink again.”
He could be honest. He could spill everything about his relationship with Chanyeol and why he’s been letting someone else in his life like this, but figures it’s not something worth mentioning. Perhaps Yifan wouldn’t mind, but Yixing won’t trust his odds.
“Ah,” Yifan mumbles, and the way he looks beyond Yixing, eyes too speculative. “He’s been sleeping over a lot.”
“Does it bother you?” Yixing asks and despair is so loud in his voice he’s even embarrassed.
Yifan takes a few seconds to answer. He sighs. “No Xing, it doesn’t. It’s just… I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Yixing gazes at his left, out his window, and it seems like the whole world is awake too, the windows on the apartment buildings shine brightly back at him. “You always take care of me.” he says bitterly.
“Hey,” Yixing he looks back at the computer screen. For a split second, he actually thinks Yifan is going to say something, anything. He just sighs and shakes his head. As usual.
Yixing snorts, scratching the back of his neck in annoyance. “It’s been a while; you lost your ability to speak truthfully.”
Yifan crosses his arms at his chest, almost as if he’s trying to shield himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
There. There’s another moment in which he could be honest. He could tell Yifan everything about how he knows what he wants to say just by the look in his eyes, because Yixing knows him that well. Because probably there isn’t someone that knows Yifan as much as Yixing does. Instead, he runs both hands through his hair and rubs them over his face. He’s tired.
“I don’t mean anything. I never mean anything. And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.” We’re already too far apart, he wants to add.
Yifan nods stolidly. “Call me when he leaves.” And disconnects the call.
Later, after Chanyeol had showered, eaten, and left Yixing’s place with a gentle peck to his lips, he kneels on the ground to reach for the box underneath his bed. The pictures bring him back to a time where it was easy (like breathing) dealing with Yifan. So easy, just a touch of hands and maybe a hug and everything was fine.
Sitting at his window bench, fiddling with his phone, Yixing thinks about what he wants. It’s not hard to figure out, he wants the same thing he’s wanted when he was fifteen and first realized he was so helplessly in love with his best friend. He adjusts his phone and types a message.
What I mean is that even after all this time I’m still waiting for you to come back to me.
It takes two hours for the answer to come.
I’ve been waiting for you to want me back.
meadows from the sky // fanxing // 4k // magic!au // for xingtae
A/N: This is some sort of middle age AU. I did some research on the topic and was quite unfamiliarized, but I'm stubborn so I went on with it anyways LOL. I hope it's not awful!
The proportions of the study gives Yifan an odd feeling. It’s too small and he hates not having enough space to stretch. It’s safe to say Kris feels uneasy too by the way he climbs all the way to Yifan’s neck and goes down to his arm over and over again. The dragon huffs and warm puffs of air leave his nostrils, low growls of impatience stating he’d rather be flying or hunting in his full size than here, accompanying Yifan on the boring sorcery lessons.
“Easy, mate.” Yifan caresses his dragon, Kris’ golden scales lightly scratching his palm. The dragon huffs again and settles on Yifan’s shoulder, tail curling around his neck. “It’s only an hour; you know it's not much. I promise we’ll go flying later, ok?”
Footsteps are heard and a second later Yifan’s study mates enter the diminished room, trying to fit next to him on the floor.
“Howdy,” says Sehun, the lanky twat prick who gives Yixing too many smiles, before dropping next to Yifan. His animal companion, a grey wolf named Shi, waited until Sehun adjusted himself to curl in his lap. Yifan has never seen Shi in his full size before, and wondered if he would still look like a newborn puppy. Next to Sehun, looking as bored as always, sits Jongin, Yifan’s other study mate. Shi’s complete opposite, Jongin’s companion, Kai, has a real nose of wax. The black panther always manages to irritate Kris and both animals end entangling themselves in a mess of fire and sharp teeth. Jongin is a stupid one, so he just watches as his animal claws and bites at the dragon’s tail. Yifan leaves lessons every day praying that he meets Jongin in battle one day so Kris can rip Kai’s bloody head off.
“Aye.” Yifan answers Sehun, trying to stop Kris from snaking towards Kai to start another meaningless match. “Oi, Kim Jongin. Watch your beast.”
Jongin looks down at Kai and yawns. Yifan narrows his eyes and stands up, not refraining his dragon from spreading his wings and screaming menacingly in a free act of annoyance. He’s halfway jumping on Jongin’s throat when a voice bursts from the door. A voice Yifan knows all too well.
“Wu Yifan,” says Zhang Yixing, among other things Yifan’s teacher. “Sit down.”
There is nothing Yifan can do other than sit. Kris retracts his wings and returns to his previous position around Yifan’s neck.
If there’s something worst than taking sorcery lessons at all is this person. Zhang Yixing. It’s not that Yifan hates him, because he doesn’t. He’s been friends with Yixing for years, and being forced to take lessons with him as a teacher is mildly humiliating. If only Yifan had been smart enough to start learning magic when Yixing had started.
The man - he hardly thinks it’s appropriate to call Yixing a man, considering he’s as old as Yifan - walks inside the small study with his animal companion on his heels. Lay is a white unicorn, horn almost as white as his fur. He’s as tall as Yixing’s calf in his reduced form, but Yifan has seen him full sized before and Lay is even more marvelous than he looks now.
Yixing sits in front of the small group of three and his unicorn obediently sits next to him, contrasting with the other animals’ behaviors of relaxing themselves on their masters.
“Today we continue the channeling practice,” Yixing announces, removing the leather gloves from his hands and rubbing them against each other. “Remember, don’t channel from your animals or they’ll switch to full size. We don’t need another situation like that.”
Yifan glances significantly at Jongin who looks (of course) bored out of his skull and not slightly concerned that his carelessness would have his panther growing all around the small study and destroying Yixing’s father's house. Again.
“Understood?” Yixing asks Jongin and the boy simply shrugs. Yifan wants to smack him on the head.
“Jongin,” Sehun says. “Yixing is talking to you.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard him.” Jongin rolls his eyes.
“How come his family thought it was a good idea that he learned magic?” Yifan blurts outraged.
“Yifan!” Yixing warns. “Shut up.”
Yifan squints at him incredulously. “But acts like a bitch-”
“You don’t get to say anything.” His teacher says and sighs, trying to regain the focus on today’s lesson.
As expected, the blame is on Yifan. Even if he did nothing, he’s always the guilty one. The last scowl is always directed at him. He figures there’s no point in trying to be nice to Yixing.
“Let’s empty our minds then.” Yixing restarts, closing his eyes. Yifan smirks. The teacher should know by now that Yifan isn’t one to be trusted when your eyes are closed. At least Yixing shouldn’t.
He flicks two fingers in the air and three books come flying from the nearest shelf to drop straight to Yixing’s head. Lay neighs, directing a fierce glare toward Yifan. When Yixing opens his eyes, he’s glaring.
“Frog’s knickers!” he hisses and his look is down to Lay, who is still neighing and snorting at Yifan. Kris moves on his shoulders and mentions to stand up, held down by Yifan’s hands.
“Quit playing around.” Sehun says more annoyed than he should be. The boy looks softy over Yixing. “Are you ok?”
Yixing inhales and nods, ignoring the smirk Yifan hides behind his hand. It’s going to be a long hour.
-
He’s not exactly sure of when he met Yixing. The memory goes back to them returning from mundane studies and running through wheat fields to reach home. After lessons Yifan would go home and help his father at the smithy, sometimes Yixing would come along and watch as Yifan’s father taught him to forge, laughing whenever Yifan messed up. Yifan remembers feeling dejected at the laughter and replying with a hammer flying in Yixing’s direction. Yifan knew Yixing could stop the hammer; he had already started his magic lessons back then and had been showing great improvements. However, Yifan was not impressed and thought he would show that much improvement if he was a sorcerer’s son as well.
Lay was given to Yixing at his 8th name day. Yifan was familiar with his father’s companion, but the moment he laid eyes on Lay it was like he’d never seen anything like it. The unicorn small enough to fit Yixing’s palm nudged his horn gently on his new master’s fingers, and Yifan felt a sudden wave of jealousy. He knew every person able to conjure spells and canalize energy was allowed an animal companion when deemed old enough, but he was also 8 years old. So why could Yixing have one and he couldn't?
“When you’re old enough you’ll have your own animal, Yifan.” Yixing explained.
Yifan snorted, swallowing all hurt down “Who needs a pocket bug?” he knelt down and fished a rock on the street, throwing it square on Yixing’s forehead. Regret washed him as soon as Yixing exploded in tears. That was the first time Yifan saw Lay react to Yixing, the animal moving all over the other’s palm, whinnying and snorting impatiently.
It was only at his 10th name day that Kris was given to Yifan, all jealousy disappearing once he’s had a good look at the golden reptile.
“When he grows up,” his father had said. “He’ll be gigantic, flying across the clouds. And you can fly with him! For now, he’ll be in his pocket size, only shifting to full size whenever he needs to eat. As it grows, his pocket size will grow too, and then you won’t be able to carry him in your hands.”
Yifan was amazed. The little dragon in his hands attempted frail roars and powerless spits of fire as he ran up Yifan’s arm, climbing his way up to his neck.
“Someday,” his father continued. “You’ll be old enough to channel his power. Then you’ll be like one. If there is the need to fight a battle, this little fellow will be your biggest ally. He will protect you with his life, and for that, you have to protect him until this day comes.”
“Cool,” Yixing, who had been silent during the whole moment, finally spoke. “They can be friends, Yifan! Lay and Kris. Just like us!”
Yifan’s father had laughed and ruffled Yixing’s hair affectionately, but Yifan snorted and looked away, retorting bitterly “We’re not friends, you scurvy dog.”
-
Yifan really hates Oh Sehun. Possibly more than he despises Kim Jongin and his stupid black panther. Oh Sehun pretends he’s innocent with his quiet ways and shy laughter. Yifan is on to him. He knows all about Oh Sehun and why he’s decided to take sorcery lessons, it’s only annoying that Yixing pretends to see nothing.
“He’s not courting me, come on.” He answers once Yifan’s mentioned the kid’s real intentions.
They’re taking the regular way home from watching Mr. Lee’s cattle (apparently a vampire plague has been terrorizing the animals) through the Yellow Meadow, and Yifan spots a few beetles flying above the yellow flowers (he knows the name of those flowers, it’s just difficult to remember). Kris happily flies amongst the insects spooking a few and even eating others, while Lay runs ahead, white hair floating beautifully.
Yixing has the hood of his cloak covering half his head, and there is just something - in the way he tries to refrain smile to spread on his face - that trick Yifan to death. Is he smiling because he likes the fact that pig’s piss Oh Sehun loves him so obviously? Is he smiling because they’re trespassing the yellow flowers fields and he’s been always fond of this particular way back to the village?
“Why are you laughing?” Yifan asks, and he doesn’t even realize he’s frowning until Yixing reaches to soothe his eyebrows. He lightly startles at the touch, stumbling a little and staring at the shorter.
“I’m not laughing; do not give me the eyebrows.” He says and then he’s smiling, a full-length smile featuring that irritating dimple.
“I’m not giving you anything, I don’t want to give you anything,” he mentions but can’t quite pinpoint the reason. “Oh Sehun, on the other hand…”
Yixing suddenly stops walking and turns to face Yifan. He removes the hood and squints at the taller, crossing his arms on the chest as if he’s ready to start an inquisition.
“Does it bother you this much?” he asks.
Yifan can feel himself blushing, heat pooling at his cheeks and at the tip of his ears. He clears his throat in a weak attempt to distract the other from his embarrassment and inhales.
“Not bloody likely! You are the teacher, he shouldn’t be courting you and-”
Yixing snorts, rolling his eyes, “Please,” he mocks. “The fact that I’m a teacher never stopped you from using your magical knowledge to hit me with rocks and wet all my books.”
“But that’s because we’ve known each other for years and you’re just a lousy swine!” Yifan retorts.
Yixing seems to be satisfied with the answer; he resumes the journey home and pulls his hood up again.
“At least Oh Sehun shows me some kindness.” the boy mutters.
Something lurches in his stomach; he’s not sure if lunch or the flooding rage he’s suddenly receiving from Yixing’s answer, and he cannot believe the other is trying to make a villain out of him. Well, perhaps he’s been a villain for the past 12 years and perhaps he can’t comprehend the reason why Yixing sticks to his side to the present day (since he’s a bastard incapable of a mild gesture of kindness). However, this is not the point. The point is that Yixing makes it seem like Oh Sehun is a better option than Yifan.
So he infuriates.
Yifan looks around and finds a few more beetles flying around. He focuses on the biggest bugs hovering the flowers and discreetly lifts his hands trying to channel all his energy into every single beetle. Once he’s felt control over the creatures flow through his veins, Yifan moves the insects towards Yixing.
It takes the other two seconds to scream and land straight onto the ground, at least twenty beetles working on disturbing his peace. Yifan laughs loudly, trying to ignore Lay’s butting on his leg, a not-so-effective way of protecting his master, at least not against Yifan. When Yixing stands up Yifan feels the dominance over the bugs completely fall away from him. The other glares at him, if not chocked by the attack, annoyed by Yifan’s risky usage of magic on living creatures.
“You know you can’t do that,” Yixing says. “Don’t use magic to control living creatures, that’s strictly forbidden.”
Yifan feels oddly exasperated. Why isn’t Yixing mad for being assaulted? “I use magic however it pleases me,” he tries, but even his proud self understands magic does not work that way.
Kris lands on his head, and Yifan wants to say it’s a terrible moment for his dragon to bring dead beetles over and try to build a nest in his hair.
A terrible feeling weights in his gut when Yixing shakes his head in clear disappointment, crouching briefly to pull Lay to his arms, caressing his companion before sighing, eyes never leaving Yifan’s.
Later, when they’re huddled by Yifan’s house’s fireplace (an old habit of when Yifan’s elder sister used to tell them stories before getting married to a knight), Yixing brings the subject back.
“They say if you use magic on living beings a will-o'-the-wisp will lead you out of life.” He says.
Yifan snorts, “Humpf! Gibberish; you have never even seen a wisp.”
“You don’t have to see one to know they’re real,” busying himself with the cloth of his vests, Yixing continues, lips parted and face serious. “I’m serious, Yifan. Don’t try to use your magic in ways you can’t understand.”
Yifan chuckles half-heartedly in effort of not seeming too convinced. “Don’t be foolish.”
There is silence for a minute, and it’s like the freezing cold air around them turned instantly hot. Yifan turns to face Yixing, and there is such expression on the other’s face, one he’s never noticed before - something between concern and dedication. Affection?
“Play with me if you want,” Yixing starts. “Burn my hair off, throw me from the top of the highest tower, but do not break the rules.”
“Why do you care if I break the rules,” He doesn’t even know why he challenged, but he does it anyway.
“You’re my student, I have to care.”
What burned the air instantly cooled it down, and Yifan snorts, mumbling stupid things that he doesn’t even believe in out of spite. He knows Yixing is right, and he knows he should follow his advice, but right now there is nothing he can bring himself to care about other than the fact that last sentence was not what he wanted to hear.
-
The first time Yifan flies Kris over the Yellow Meadow he thinks of Yixing, of how much he would like to fly there, to see what the flowers look like from above, and to feel like you own all of that. To feel like nothing can reach you. He thinks of Yixing and as soon as Kris returns to the ground (sadly smashing a few flowers in his landing), Yifan runs back to the village in sheer excitation; however, all happiness and enthusiasm crashes down once he spots Oh Sehun walking his friend home hand-in-hand.
Yifan stops on his tracks, arms falling limply on either side of his body and face soothing to a blank state. First he thinks he should have not missed today’s sorcery lesson (Kris was uneasy in hunger). Then he’s angry, but it’s a different kind of anger that makes his breathing hitch and chest ache. Yifan has never wanted so much to kill someone.
On the following day Yifan is, as usual, the first to get to Yixing’s house for the lessons, and as soon as the short one enters the small study, Yifan explodes an apple in his face. Just because he knows Yixing will get angry, even tho he said Yifan could prank him all he wanted. Just because he feels he owes himself that.
As soon as the frenzied fruit blows to smithereens right in front of his eyes and juicy pieces of apple fly to his face, Yixing sighs, probably because he’s seen that coming, because he’s too used to it.
Yifan smiles. It’s only the start.
After scullion Kim Jongin comes in and stupid Oh Sehun sits the closer to Yixing he can manage (Yifan huffs warm puffs of anger), Yifan tries to work four books into Yixing’s head (although this one fails due to Yixing’s unusual ability of predicting Yifan’s pranks. He should lose that one from now on), succeeds to drastically get the windows open and all the parchment lying around flying frantically out the house, and last but definitely not least, gets Kris burning a few strands of Oh Sehun’s hair.
He should say it’s been a fairly productive day when Yixing finally finishes the class and bastard Oh Sehun tries to initiate aimless conversation with the teacher.
Before the kid even get a word out of his mouth Yifan is standing next to him, smiling in a slightly obsessive way that most likely appears sick to by standers. And probably to Oh Sehun, who simply bows at Yixing and runs out of the study.
“What do you want, Wu Yifan? Have you forgotten to throw something else on me?” Yixing asks while organizing the remaining pieces of parchment on the desk.
“Actually, there’s something I want to show you.” He answers.
“I’m busy right now; Sehun is helping me fix my bed. Apparently he’s a fine woodworker.”
It’s not even the fact he’s mentioned Oh Sehun, but the fact Yixing doesn’t bring his eyes up to look at Yifan that irritates him the most.
“Why didn’t you ask me? I could have done it.”
Yixing snorts, slightly shaking his head. “And have you setting my house on fire as a joke? I appreciate the concern, but no.”
“Why would I set your house on fire?” Yifan questions, but it’s not like he doesn’t understand. He does, actually. He knows very well why Yixing glares at him with eyes likely to vaporize him in a heartbeat.
“Are you serious?” the other looks around as if staring at Yifan would burn his eyes. “I’m tired, Yifan. I’m really tired. All you seem to want is to piss me off! For God’s bones, can’t you stop for a bloody minute? Ever since we met, it has been like this, I’m the idiot trying to be your friend and you’re just too good to put up with me. Right?”
Yifan is wordless. He can just inspect Yixing as he pours everything out.
“Well congratulations! You’ve finally reached your greatest wish! I’m done with you and all your woodness!”
Yixing’s breathing is heavy, and he coughs a little. Yifan’s first instinct is to ask if he’s fine, but he doesn’t. He knows the answer and it would sound ridiculous to ask it now.
Once he’s sighed and seemingly calmed himself down, Yixing turns to speak. “I’ll ask my father to continue your studies, and you won’t ever have to face me again, all right? I’m sorry for being such a burden.” He looks up, and there’s that infuriating dimpled smile that initiated everything, the hateful smile that made Yifan want to throw rocks and push Yixing away. It’s only now that he realizes what that really means; that he shouldn’t have thrown rocks, and that he shouldn’t have pushed Yixing away.
-
There is one thing Yifan never mentions, one thing he always knew but never cared to think through - perhaps because he was aware of the consequences of doing so, perhaps because it took a considerable amount of effort to lock it safely where he could not reach.
8-year-old Yifan didn’t need much to live contently - only his family and a rainy day to jump on some puddles alongside Yixing.
And it’s playing on the puddles that Yifan realized there was something beautiful in the way Yixing laughed; the sound, the way the corners of his mouth curled up. He’s only ever heard such beauty in his mother’s laughter, and he ever thought no one would ever be as special as his mother.
And there it is Zhang Yixing and his never-seen magic talent, and his 80 year old brains and fairy beauty. 14-year-old Yifan thought that someone like that could never be human, because no one can be so beautiful, and so bare and filled with wisdom while so young. 14 year-old Yifan was aware of things, and he knew his heart beat a little faster whenever Yixing smiled. Perhaps because he enrages me, he thought.
Now 20 year-old Yifan knocks at Yixing’s door in a hurry not allowed in ungodly times of the day. Kris can feel his restlessness, batting his wings and huffing in anxiety as they wait for the door to be answered. Yifan knows Yixing’s father won’t answer the door, the old man never does.
When the door opens to reveal a sleepy Yixing, Yifan holds his breath.
“Yifan?”
“We need to talk.”
Yixing shakes his head, “We have nothing to talk about, and everything has been said already.”
“No, wait - I mean it, there’s-” Yifan’s hands are quick in refraining the door from closing him, Yixing’s angry stare burning holes on his face. “Can I please explain?”
“Explain what?” then the door is released and barged open, Yixing’s form finally leaving his shield to expose to Yifan’s eyes. “Why you’re the greatest scullion in this whole kingdom?”
Yifan considers. He’s not wrong, but, “No, not exactly. Why I don’t want your father to be my teacher.” Yixing frowns and Yifan thinks maybe he’s saying it all wrong. He quickly rephrases it. “I thought of you! While flying over the Yellow Meadow.”
Yixing’s rough expression soothes the slightest bit and Yifan thinks this, this is how he should say it. So he carries on. “We weren’t flying high and I could see all the fields and the flowers, even the little ones… And the beetles, the birds. And people too, but the flowers reminded me of you the most
“I know how much you like those fields, and all I could think about was how much I wanted you to see that, because I know it would mean a lot,”
Yixing hugs himself, and it’s a gesture Yifan hasn’t seen much, but endearing nonetheless. “What do you mean?
Yifan inhales, he figures he has to, before stepping closer and running a hand through Yixing’s hair. He was never really good with words and a lot of them may go unsaid, probably the most important ones, and that’s why he chooses to explain differently. He hopes he accomplishes to say everything he wants to say without uttering a single word.
He’s close now, impossibly close - so close he feels Yixing’s hitching breath and his glistening, plump lips are only a finger away. Yifan’s never realized how desirable Yixing’s lips are.
“I mean,” he says, and he brushes their lips together ever so naturally it feels like the hundredth time. Then he does it again, and one more time; he kisses Yixing’s chin, and his jaw, and when he feels hands closing on his vests, Yifan buries his hands on Yixing’s hair and kisses him definitely. This one feels like the first time.
Yixing smiles on the kiss, and it’s weird because Yifan can feel him smiling and it gets in the way of kissing and however much he loves Yixing’s smile, he realizes he loves kissing him better.
“I mean,” he repeats, parting the kiss just in time to listen to Yixing’s faint muttering of ‘You’re such a sweaty pig’. “Can I come in?”
As Yixing leads him inside, Yifan feels so triumphant he thinks he’ll dream of celebrating victory over Oh Sehun’s rotting, smelly corpse.
make up your mind // fanxing // 3k // romance or fluff? // for doseh
A/N: I am so terribly sorry I've ruined your prompt omg /cries river, oceans and storms/
Yixing knows he’s in for trouble when he steals Kris Wu’s apartment renovation project. He knows it isn’t his place as a newbie in the company to barge into his senior’s office and loot the files; he also knows there are cameras everywhere and that he’s definitely going to get caught. That’s why he prepares a heart wrenching plea for when his boss comes to confront him about the stolen project.
So now Yixing finds himself reviewing Kris Wu’s apartment blue prints, an eight room 2000 square feet apartment in Gangnam and he kinda shudders while inspecting the list of demands the idol star has made.
It appears that Kris Wu, former model nowadays TV host, wants a London inspired apartment, and by London inspired he certainly doesn’t mean London Eyes and Big Bens all around - he means London style, which happens to be ‘his style’ and Yixing can’t really understand what he means by make it Portobello-Carnaby style.
All he wanted was to have his first solo project at the company to be a huge one; he wanted Kris Wu to walk around blurting his name and as a result other celebrities running into Yixing and begging him to renovate their houses and apartments and design their firstborns. That’s all he wanted. It definitely wasn’t the weight of a thousand galaxies filled with an overflowing ego and the most handsome features he’s ever seen.
The first time they meet Minseok is with him. Being Yixing’s first signature project in the company, Minseok insisted he’d watch closely and it’s not like Yixing thinks it’s a bad idea. It’s good that Minseok would be there to clean his messes and save his ass when he screws up. Because he has a weird feeling that he’s going to screw up.
Kris Wu walks with the confidence of peacock, all colorful feathers and long neck staring down at Yixing like he stands high on a pedestal, sitting down like the chair was made for him and removing his shades like they were a huge burden. Yixing’s first reaction is frowning.
“Mr. Wu?” Minseok stands, offering Kris a hand. It goes untouched. It’s kinda painful to watch his best friend’s hand hanging rejected in the middle of the air as Kris Wu, recently discovered jerk, stares nonchalantly. Yixing’s frown intensifies. Minseok retreats his hand awkwardly. “Um. Welcome to Life Tree Architecture. We’ve been working on your ideas so far,”
Kris - rudely, Yixing might add, interrupts “Have you taken all my requests in consideration?”
“That’s what he said,” Yixing says. He doesn’t care for his tone like Minseok pathetically does, like this Kris Wu is the queen’s shit. “That we’ve been working on your ideas so far.”
He thinks Minseok is going to nudge him or apologize for his insolence, but the elder smiles awkwardly.
“Who’s this? I don’t think I’ve met him the last time I was here,” Kris Wu says and the way his eyes scan Yixing is worrying.
“His name is Zhang Yixing; he’s one of our finest. Yixing will be working on your apartment renovations.” Yixing even receives a bunch of Minseok’s anxiety as they wait for a word from Kris Wu, who obviously keeps staring at the duo as they both carry some sort of virus.
Three minutes in the presence of Kris Wu makes him automatically hit the dislike button on the other. Yixing can’t really tell what makes up his mind about Kris Wu (maybe the arrogance, or the way his blonde hair is offensively beautiful styled up), but right now there’s nothing he regrets more than stealing Minseok’s project.
Kris Wu’s long, ring decorated fingers scratch his chin in thought as his eyes scan Yixing’s figure like he’s a purchase. In certain way he is a purchase, but it doesn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable. And pissed. Yixing shifts in his seat and averts his look.
“Finest, you say?” Kris questions.
“Yes, Yixing graduated top of his class.” Minseok sounds desperate as he answers.
The moment Yixing lifts his eyes to take into Kris Wu’s features once again, the man is stretching his lips in what seems like the tiniest of smiles. “Did he?” then he leans into the table, arms crossed on the surface and amusement all over his face. “I have a long list of demands. Are you qualified to meet my needs, Zhang Yixing?”
Warmness hits his face and Yixing can swear his face is abnormally red. He tries hard not to sound like he’s choking when he clears his throat to utter a loud “What?”
Kris Wu looks like he’s got the confirmation he needed as he exclaims, “I’ll take him!”
Yixing narrows his eyes, “You what?” he inhales deeply in preparation for what comes next - an intense cussing rampage that’s strategically avoided by Minseok’s firm hand over his mouth.
“Don’t worry,” his senior says, that pathetic smile adorning his face. “Yixing will take good care of your project.”
“That’s what I hope.” Kris Wu stands up from his seating and collects his shades from the table. “I’ll return tomorrow by the same time with more specific aspects of our project, yes? I’m running late now,”
“No problems,” Minseok is quick in answering, standing up. Yixing just knows he’s pondering over offering his hand to Kris one more time.
“It was nice to meet you, Zhang Yixing. I look forward to testing your abilities.” Kris Wu says before he slides his shades in, and somewhere down Yixing’s throat, a feeling screams he’s into deep trouble.
-
Three encounters are enough to convince Yixing that Kris Wu is trying to get into his pants. From the weird winks to the occasional touching, his efforts are beyond obvious and each one of Yixing’s friends has an opinion on the matter.
"Bang him. What's the worst that could happen?" Luhan advices despite Minseok's worried this isn't a good idea.
"I think you should indulge him. Play along!" that's Baekhyun, known around the office for flirting with costumers.
Minseok has a different opinion. "Focus on your job, don't try to figure Kris Wu out because these famous folks are all damaged."
Although Yixing is used to explain his first impression on Kris Wu as a succession of cuss words, he does not have an opinion on the subject just yet. He's sitting on his work cubicle, trying to figure out the reason behind Kris Wu’s pointed smiles and suggestive winks when a new message pops into his email inbox.
From: wukris90@email.com
Subject: Blue Prints
Yixing,
I need the original blue prints back. Can you meet me at the Café near your office? It's really important that I get it today. I'll wait for your answer.
Kris.
Yixing stares at the message, frowning and trying to figure out if Kris Wu is trying to ask him out or just really in need of his belonging. Squinting at the screen for a little longer, Yixing stands up and walks to Minseok's office. His friend is peacefully working on his graphic tablet.
"Yes, Yixing?" Minseok asks without looking up from his tablet. The elder always had somewhat a weird sensor for Yixing's forthcoming.
"Kris Wu just emailed me," he starts and at mention of Kris Wu, Minseok immediately looks up. "I'm not sure if he wants to see me or if he just wants his blue prints back. He asked me to meet him at the cafe downstairs."
There's a moment before Minseok speaks. "He said he wanted to meet you for the blue prints?"
"Yes," Yixing plops himself at the guest chair at Minseok's table. "I'm not sure if I should decline. I mean, we do want to know if he wants my naked body. This might be our chance."
Minseok chokes on air, “We? I have no interest on the subject whatsoever; speak for yourself and perhaps for Baekhyun. And I strongly oppose to this idea. Tell him you're busy or something."
Maybe Minseok is right. Perhaps Yixing should email Kris back denying availability. However, the answer he types on his phone, right from Minseok's guest chair, is way different.
Sure. I'll be free by 5.
"What did you just type in there?" His senior is quick in asking. Yixing smirks.
"I'm curious, hyung."
The reproachful look on Minseok's eyes is enough for an answer. Yixing shrugs. "Yixing…"
"I've got this."
As soon as the clock hits 5pm, Yixing grabs Kris' blue prints and darts out of the company building.
The cafe is a famous place amongst workers of the area and Yixing himself has chosen the cozy atmosphere to finish work instead of his dull office several times. When he enters the cafe Kris Wu is already sitting at one of the back tables - probably trying to avoid customer’s attention - sipping at a coffee mug.
"Best thing about this place is the mug," Yixing mentions as he takes a seat. Kris nods at him in recognition, the oh-so-known smug look back in his eyes.
"Been here before?" Kris asks as Yixing hands him the blue prints suitcase.
"Yes," he signals for a waitress to come take his order. "Aren't you worried someone might spot you and take pictures of us?"
"Its kind of useless, they always do." Kris smiles effortlessly, as if doing so means nothing. "So, how is my new house coming out? Have you taken the British patterns I’ve said in consideration?"
Yixing gets the drink the waitress brings and turns to Kris. "Just fine. I've been using all of your ideas and I've also contacted the decorator earlier today. She's got the hang of apartments."
Kris nods, "Give me her contact information later," he takes another sip of his coffee. "If all of this turns out ok I might even invite you over after it's done."
It takes a lot of concentration not to choke on coffee and Yixing inhales deeply after dodging death. He looks over Kris, who gazes at him mirthfully.
"So... If that's it then we're done?"
"Seems like it," Kris answers, but something about the way he says it hints that he's not done. "Or we could stay a little longer?"
Yixing considers.
He could stay. There's nothing stopping him, he's done with work and there is Kris Wu, essentially Kris Wu, asking him to stay for a while longer and Yixing isn't one to impress easily. He didn't ever give a fuck about Kris Wu in particular but... That's an opportunity.
So he sighs. And nods. "I suppose we could."
-
Yixing never thought about himself as an easy prey, but it’s obvious Kris Wu does. So obvious he’s trying to woo Yixing over with subtle smiles and late night text messages (Yixing suspects Baekhyun is the one behind Kris Wu having access to his personal number).
He’s supposed to be sleeping when the clock hits 2am; instead, Yixing types angry answers back to Kris Wu’s insistent messages.
Can you please stop texting me? I really need to sleep.
He doesn’t even have time to enjoy the peaceful moment before his phone vibrates again. He rolls his eyes.
Sleep is for the weak, Zhang Yixing. Say, where are you going to be tomorrow morning?
He narrows his eyes.
Um. Work?
Ok. See you tomorrow then.
Yixing swears he’s afraid of that last sentence.
The reason behind the texts comes alongside a very confident Kris Wu when he barges into Yixing’s workspace to sit onto his table like it wasn’t actually made to support paper and other office things. Yixing merely narrows his eyes at the man - and he must notice, Kris has his hair perfectly styled sideways today and he looks gorgeous. Not that Yixing should mention.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
Kris shrugs, “You knew I was stopping by, don’t act so surprised.”
“Oh, did I?” he crosses his arms on his chest.
The other hums. “I texted you about it,” he picks at one of the pens splayed across Yixing’s table and inspects it like it might hide the secrets of the universe. “So, I have something for you.”
Kris reaches for something in his pocket and rescues a small black envelope, handing it over.
Yixing studies the envelope before opening it and removing the black piece of paper inside. It’s an invitation. For a party.
“What’s this?”
“Isn’t it clear? An invitation. I want you to come with me to this party a friend of mine is hosting.”
Yixing snorts, scratching behind his ear while tilting his head up to face Kris. The man grins at him, and there’s something different with the way the conversation flows. Somehow, Kris looks more comfortable; Yixing can’t decide if this is a good thing.
“You know this is your renovation sketches you’re sitting on, right?” Yixing mentions after realizing the other did not intend to remove himself from the table.
“Are you coming?” with the question completely ignored, Yixing has no choice other than to give him an answer.
He breathes, “I’ll make an appearance.”
“No, not make an appearance. You’ll be my date, I’ll come pick you up at 8 and you have to be perfectly dressed. Ok?”
Date? He mentally blurts, eyes wide as full moons and mouth slightly gaping. Although it’s not that surprising, since the odds have been in his favor since the beginning. Not that he wanted the odds to be in his favor. Or something.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kris says after his silence, standing up from Yixing’s desk and mindlessly running his fingers though Yixing’s jaw. What. “See you on Saturday, Yixing.”
-
Yixing feels slightly out of place. He’s appropriately dressed and his hair is just right but the vibes of that place. He just doesn’t like it.
Whenever a waiter passes by carrying a tray of whatever he stretches an arm to pick it up. He’s drank numerous unidentified liquids and ate several weird snacks and canapés with doubtful taste. The food is awful, the music is horrid and the party sucks.
He thinks the only good points surprisingly (but not actually) goes to Kris Wu, who is so handsome he almost looks like a Greek god and, better than that, has his whole attention solely on Yixing. Yixing likes the attention, even when he puts so much effort into not making it evident. Somehow, Yixing’s barely functioning brain has created this rule in which he must not let Kris Wu know he’s interested (because he’s already came to terms with the fact that he is, indeed, interested).
There are people dancing and chatting all around the hall, but Yixing is adamantly planted on his table seat and refuses to get up for any circumstances - except for the tray fishing because sometimes the waiter forgets to dump food over.
“Are you sure you don’t want to dance?” Kris asks nearly miserably and Yixing very nearly pities him. Very nearly.
“Very sure. Can’t you just get me some good food? I’m starving and they’re serving tea spoon portions and the fact that we’re spending a Saturday night at this place is your entire fault.” He retorts, avoiding Kris’ look. “And you call this a date…”
Yixing hears Kris’ loud sigh and turns to face him. He honestly expected Kris to be scowling and cursing him to eternal damnation. That’s not what he sees.
“You’re a piece of work, Zhang Yixing.” Kris is actually smiling. “But I guess that’s what makes you so attractive.”
And just like that, he leans over and presses a soft kiss to Yixing’s closed lips. It takes Yixing a minute or so to process what just happened. Once he’s recovered his senses Kris Wu is chuckling next to him, pulling him to his feet with the excuse of buying him some good food.
-
While he’s walking (if people can walk sitting in front of their computer while using a mouse to go to places) in the streets of London, Yixing wonders why the hell people still travel after Google Street View was invented. He’s visited every single English street Kris had demanded to be used as inspiration for his apartment renovations and even entered a few pubs to know exactly how to redefine the rooms.
He is halfway through the project in the comfort of his home when the Autocad software installed in his desktop PC abruptly comes to a stop due to his illegal ways of putting it to work. Yixing’s just graduated and he’s still a poor professional, therefore he cracked his working software. He just pirated it. It was the only way. And now it appears he’s paying for his wrongful deeds, but someone very important once said one should not feel guilty for those, so Yixing figures he won’t mop over the lost 3D-to-be line art and just start the whole thing all over again. Using paper and pencil.
It’s only when he goes for the roll of trace paper that he notices it’s gone. All of it. It’s all gone. Yixing clearly remembers acquiring that roll of paper legaly - he’s paid for that shit! What is he being punished for this time?
Sighing in defeat, Yixing grabs his phone. He only realizes he’s texting Kris once the message is sent.
I would like a pizza right now.
The answer is almost immediate.
Are you asking me out?
Yixing snorts. He wouldn’t do that. Not anytime soon.
No. I’m allowing you to treat me. Only because you’re rich and paying.
He figures that’s only fair, since he was working on a Sunday because of Kris in the first place.
I’ll accept this. I’m on a schedule now, but I guess I can be there in… Two hours? Will you still be hungry then?
Sure, I’m always hungry for free food.
Ok, I’ll be there.
Two minutes later there’s another text, one that has Yixing chuckling and receiving a gust of some feeling he’s not used to get from Kris’ text messages.
Wait. What’s your address?
That’s the first time Yixing actually understands everything he thought he knew about Kris Wu is wrong. He never actually knew the slightest bit about the other. Maybe it’s his fault for being so rushed into assumptions, maybe it’s Kris fault, he’s not sure. But right now, as he thinks about the whole weird process of getting to know Kris Wu, he thinks he would like to go further.
So he sends Kris his address and settles for a two hour nap.
And to my prompters: I'm sorry all of these stories have such a fast pace. I took some liberty with what you gave me (forgive me for that as well) and transfigured into this mess of words. I hope you like it anyway ;; Thank you for trusting me with this ♥
BTW you can all talk to me at twitter??? orz
fuse // fanxing // 1,3k // for els_els
A/N: Hi! You gave me two great prompts, I tried to make the best of the one I've chosen. Thank you <3
Looking at old photographs sometimes is, to Yixing, the same as reviving the moment. It feels as if he's slipping right across the paper frames, diving head first into what once was. It usually happens at Fridays, mostly when he's alone and tired of the staleness of routine. On these days, he gets home anxious - no, he is anxious to leave work, home is just a refuge -, pours himself a glass of water and undresses while staring out the window of his bedroom. Living at one of the highest buildings in Seoul he certainly has some view to appreciate, the city lights burn and shimmer at him but Yixing is completely blind to whatever they try to show.
Some days he simply seats at his window bench, legs brought to his chest and arms tightly wrapped around as if hugging himself would bring some sort of comfort. It doesn't. It's been too long since something was comforting enough, and perhaps, to Yixing, is time to come looking for it.
Finding the photographs is the easy part; they're just hidden inside a box that's tucked under his bed. There's no dust on it and that's whether a sign of Yixing's anal cleaning routines or an indication of his constant searching. The feeling is the same as he inspects the pictures nevertheless. Longing.
-
Before Kris Wu there was Wu Yifan, slack student in need of discipline lessons and Zhang Yixing's safe person. Even before, there was just Yifan, the new boy on the neighborhood and Yixing's best friend.
They met on a classroom and quickly evolved to irrevocable friendship. From a 24/7 contact status, it moved to something else. Something neither of them were exactly sure of, but headed into it anyway. It was Yifan who did it first, with bold fingers to the back of Yixing's neck and arms too eager to hug closer and chest aching to breathe nearer. It didn't take Yixing much to give in, he already felt like everything he was belonged to Yifan.
Yixing never was much of a suspicious person, he wanted to believe in goodness and that people would never hurt other people without a reasonable answer, even if hurting isn't exactly reasonable. Being that way made it easy for Yifan to carve himself deep into Yixing's body, to turn every part of Yixing's life a constant reminder of him.
Then Yifan was scouted to be model. He was only seventeen and the development was quick. One week for tests, one week for experimental jobs and one week for moving arrangements. Seemed to Yixing that life intended to surprise him in a bad way. In less than a month, he lost his best friend and everything else.
Of course they managed to keep in touch after Yifan’s moved to Canada, their jokes were still the same and that same shiver still ran across Yixing's spine whenever Yifan said he missed him. However, time worked its curse and suddenly everything changed. Yifan worked too much, Yixing had too much to study, Yifan had new friends and a whole new life far more interesting and exciting than the staleness of Zhang Yixing.
Then the emails weren't replied, the calls weren't answered and Seoul seemed light years apart from Canada.
Four years later Zhang Yixing can't quite bring himself to give up. He still sends emails, some of them are replied within time, and he keeps up with Yifan through news, although it doesn't feel the same.
-
It’s cold, too cold for his liking. The arms around his waist aren’t enough protection from the low temperature, and despite its tightness around him, Yixing still manages to slip off the bed and out of the man’s grasp. Before covering his skin with the soft silk of his robe, Yixing gives Chanyeol a good look on the bed, a mess of brown, perfectly trimmed hair and toned arms. Chanyeol is the portrait of everything someone like Yixing could ever want - handsome, successful and caring. Yet, he can’t quite pin down the reason behind these occasional dates between the two of them. Whenever Chanyeol asks Yixing out, he cannot bring himself to decline.
The computer is right there, within his reach, and he knows it’s 2pm in Canada right now, so he wouldn’t be exactly bothering with a skype call.
Waiting for the call to be answered feels longer than usual, Yixing throwing rushed glances over his shoulder to where Chanyeol lies on the bed and back to the computer screen until a face he knows all too well appears.
It’s like every muscle in his face relaxes once Yifan smiles at him.
“Hey Yixing,” he says, fingers sliding through his messed blonde hair. “Why are you calling so late?”
Yixing shakes his head, “It’s not that late,”
“It’s 3 in the morning for you, right?” Yifan squints at him; he’s not looking at Yixing, but past him. “Is there someone on your bed?”
“It’s Chanyeol,” Yixing hurries in explaining. “He’s had too much to drink again.”
He could be honest. He could spill everything about his relationship with Chanyeol and why he’s been letting someone else in his life like this, but figures it’s not something worth mentioning. Perhaps Yifan wouldn’t mind, but Yixing won’t trust his odds.
“Ah,” Yifan mumbles, and the way he looks beyond Yixing, eyes too speculative. “He’s been sleeping over a lot.”
“Does it bother you?” Yixing asks and despair is so loud in his voice he’s even embarrassed.
Yifan takes a few seconds to answer. He sighs. “No Xing, it doesn’t. It’s just… I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Yixing gazes at his left, out his window, and it seems like the whole world is awake too, the windows on the apartment buildings shine brightly back at him. “You always take care of me.” he says bitterly.
“Hey,” Yixing he looks back at the computer screen. For a split second, he actually thinks Yifan is going to say something, anything. He just sighs and shakes his head. As usual.
Yixing snorts, scratching the back of his neck in annoyance. “It’s been a while; you lost your ability to speak truthfully.”
Yifan crosses his arms at his chest, almost as if he’s trying to shield himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
There. There’s another moment in which he could be honest. He could tell Yifan everything about how he knows what he wants to say just by the look in his eyes, because Yixing knows him that well. Because probably there isn’t someone that knows Yifan as much as Yixing does. Instead, he runs both hands through his hair and rubs them over his face. He’s tired.
“I don’t mean anything. I never mean anything. And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.” We’re already too far apart, he wants to add.
Yifan nods stolidly. “Call me when he leaves.” And disconnects the call.
Later, after Chanyeol had showered, eaten, and left Yixing’s place with a gentle peck to his lips, he kneels on the ground to reach for the box underneath his bed. The pictures bring him back to a time where it was easy (like breathing) dealing with Yifan. So easy, just a touch of hands and maybe a hug and everything was fine.
Sitting at his window bench, fiddling with his phone, Yixing thinks about what he wants. It’s not hard to figure out, he wants the same thing he’s wanted when he was fifteen and first realized he was so helplessly in love with his best friend. He adjusts his phone and types a message.
What I mean is that even after all this time I’m still waiting for you to come back to me.
It takes two hours for the answer to come.
I’ve been waiting for you to want me back.
meadows from the sky // fanxing // 4k // magic!au // for xingtae
A/N: This is some sort of middle age AU. I did some research on the topic and was quite unfamiliarized, but I'm stubborn so I went on with it anyways LOL. I hope it's not awful!
The proportions of the study gives Yifan an odd feeling. It’s too small and he hates not having enough space to stretch. It’s safe to say Kris feels uneasy too by the way he climbs all the way to Yifan’s neck and goes down to his arm over and over again. The dragon huffs and warm puffs of air leave his nostrils, low growls of impatience stating he’d rather be flying or hunting in his full size than here, accompanying Yifan on the boring sorcery lessons.
“Easy, mate.” Yifan caresses his dragon, Kris’ golden scales lightly scratching his palm. The dragon huffs again and settles on Yifan’s shoulder, tail curling around his neck. “It’s only an hour; you know it's not much. I promise we’ll go flying later, ok?”
Footsteps are heard and a second later Yifan’s study mates enter the diminished room, trying to fit next to him on the floor.
“Howdy,” says Sehun, the lanky twat prick who gives Yixing too many smiles, before dropping next to Yifan. His animal companion, a grey wolf named Shi, waited until Sehun adjusted himself to curl in his lap. Yifan has never seen Shi in his full size before, and wondered if he would still look like a newborn puppy. Next to Sehun, looking as bored as always, sits Jongin, Yifan’s other study mate. Shi’s complete opposite, Jongin’s companion, Kai, has a real nose of wax. The black panther always manages to irritate Kris and both animals end entangling themselves in a mess of fire and sharp teeth. Jongin is a stupid one, so he just watches as his animal claws and bites at the dragon’s tail. Yifan leaves lessons every day praying that he meets Jongin in battle one day so Kris can rip Kai’s bloody head off.
“Aye.” Yifan answers Sehun, trying to stop Kris from snaking towards Kai to start another meaningless match. “Oi, Kim Jongin. Watch your beast.”
Jongin looks down at Kai and yawns. Yifan narrows his eyes and stands up, not refraining his dragon from spreading his wings and screaming menacingly in a free act of annoyance. He’s halfway jumping on Jongin’s throat when a voice bursts from the door. A voice Yifan knows all too well.
“Wu Yifan,” says Zhang Yixing, among other things Yifan’s teacher. “Sit down.”
There is nothing Yifan can do other than sit. Kris retracts his wings and returns to his previous position around Yifan’s neck.
If there’s something worst than taking sorcery lessons at all is this person. Zhang Yixing. It’s not that Yifan hates him, because he doesn’t. He’s been friends with Yixing for years, and being forced to take lessons with him as a teacher is mildly humiliating. If only Yifan had been smart enough to start learning magic when Yixing had started.
The man - he hardly thinks it’s appropriate to call Yixing a man, considering he’s as old as Yifan - walks inside the small study with his animal companion on his heels. Lay is a white unicorn, horn almost as white as his fur. He’s as tall as Yixing’s calf in his reduced form, but Yifan has seen him full sized before and Lay is even more marvelous than he looks now.
Yixing sits in front of the small group of three and his unicorn obediently sits next to him, contrasting with the other animals’ behaviors of relaxing themselves on their masters.
“Today we continue the channeling practice,” Yixing announces, removing the leather gloves from his hands and rubbing them against each other. “Remember, don’t channel from your animals or they’ll switch to full size. We don’t need another situation like that.”
Yifan glances significantly at Jongin who looks (of course) bored out of his skull and not slightly concerned that his carelessness would have his panther growing all around the small study and destroying Yixing’s father's house. Again.
“Understood?” Yixing asks Jongin and the boy simply shrugs. Yifan wants to smack him on the head.
“Jongin,” Sehun says. “Yixing is talking to you.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard him.” Jongin rolls his eyes.
“How come his family thought it was a good idea that he learned magic?” Yifan blurts outraged.
“Yifan!” Yixing warns. “Shut up.”
Yifan squints at him incredulously. “But acts like a bitch-”
“You don’t get to say anything.” His teacher says and sighs, trying to regain the focus on today’s lesson.
As expected, the blame is on Yifan. Even if he did nothing, he’s always the guilty one. The last scowl is always directed at him. He figures there’s no point in trying to be nice to Yixing.
“Let’s empty our minds then.” Yixing restarts, closing his eyes. Yifan smirks. The teacher should know by now that Yifan isn’t one to be trusted when your eyes are closed. At least Yixing shouldn’t.
He flicks two fingers in the air and three books come flying from the nearest shelf to drop straight to Yixing’s head. Lay neighs, directing a fierce glare toward Yifan. When Yixing opens his eyes, he’s glaring.
“Frog’s knickers!” he hisses and his look is down to Lay, who is still neighing and snorting at Yifan. Kris moves on his shoulders and mentions to stand up, held down by Yifan’s hands.
“Quit playing around.” Sehun says more annoyed than he should be. The boy looks softy over Yixing. “Are you ok?”
Yixing inhales and nods, ignoring the smirk Yifan hides behind his hand. It’s going to be a long hour.
-
He’s not exactly sure of when he met Yixing. The memory goes back to them returning from mundane studies and running through wheat fields to reach home. After lessons Yifan would go home and help his father at the smithy, sometimes Yixing would come along and watch as Yifan’s father taught him to forge, laughing whenever Yifan messed up. Yifan remembers feeling dejected at the laughter and replying with a hammer flying in Yixing’s direction. Yifan knew Yixing could stop the hammer; he had already started his magic lessons back then and had been showing great improvements. However, Yifan was not impressed and thought he would show that much improvement if he was a sorcerer’s son as well.
Lay was given to Yixing at his 8th name day. Yifan was familiar with his father’s companion, but the moment he laid eyes on Lay it was like he’d never seen anything like it. The unicorn small enough to fit Yixing’s palm nudged his horn gently on his new master’s fingers, and Yifan felt a sudden wave of jealousy. He knew every person able to conjure spells and canalize energy was allowed an animal companion when deemed old enough, but he was also 8 years old. So why could Yixing have one and he couldn't?
“When you’re old enough you’ll have your own animal, Yifan.” Yixing explained.
Yifan snorted, swallowing all hurt down “Who needs a pocket bug?” he knelt down and fished a rock on the street, throwing it square on Yixing’s forehead. Regret washed him as soon as Yixing exploded in tears. That was the first time Yifan saw Lay react to Yixing, the animal moving all over the other’s palm, whinnying and snorting impatiently.
It was only at his 10th name day that Kris was given to Yifan, all jealousy disappearing once he’s had a good look at the golden reptile.
“When he grows up,” his father had said. “He’ll be gigantic, flying across the clouds. And you can fly with him! For now, he’ll be in his pocket size, only shifting to full size whenever he needs to eat. As it grows, his pocket size will grow too, and then you won’t be able to carry him in your hands.”
Yifan was amazed. The little dragon in his hands attempted frail roars and powerless spits of fire as he ran up Yifan’s arm, climbing his way up to his neck.
“Someday,” his father continued. “You’ll be old enough to channel his power. Then you’ll be like one. If there is the need to fight a battle, this little fellow will be your biggest ally. He will protect you with his life, and for that, you have to protect him until this day comes.”
“Cool,” Yixing, who had been silent during the whole moment, finally spoke. “They can be friends, Yifan! Lay and Kris. Just like us!”
Yifan’s father had laughed and ruffled Yixing’s hair affectionately, but Yifan snorted and looked away, retorting bitterly “We’re not friends, you scurvy dog.”
-
Yifan really hates Oh Sehun. Possibly more than he despises Kim Jongin and his stupid black panther. Oh Sehun pretends he’s innocent with his quiet ways and shy laughter. Yifan is on to him. He knows all about Oh Sehun and why he’s decided to take sorcery lessons, it’s only annoying that Yixing pretends to see nothing.
“He’s not courting me, come on.” He answers once Yifan’s mentioned the kid’s real intentions.
They’re taking the regular way home from watching Mr. Lee’s cattle (apparently a vampire plague has been terrorizing the animals) through the Yellow Meadow, and Yifan spots a few beetles flying above the yellow flowers (he knows the name of those flowers, it’s just difficult to remember). Kris happily flies amongst the insects spooking a few and even eating others, while Lay runs ahead, white hair floating beautifully.
Yixing has the hood of his cloak covering half his head, and there is just something - in the way he tries to refrain smile to spread on his face - that trick Yifan to death. Is he smiling because he likes the fact that pig’s piss Oh Sehun loves him so obviously? Is he smiling because they’re trespassing the yellow flowers fields and he’s been always fond of this particular way back to the village?
“Why are you laughing?” Yifan asks, and he doesn’t even realize he’s frowning until Yixing reaches to soothe his eyebrows. He lightly startles at the touch, stumbling a little and staring at the shorter.
“I’m not laughing; do not give me the eyebrows.” He says and then he’s smiling, a full-length smile featuring that irritating dimple.
“I’m not giving you anything, I don’t want to give you anything,” he mentions but can’t quite pinpoint the reason. “Oh Sehun, on the other hand…”
Yixing suddenly stops walking and turns to face Yifan. He removes the hood and squints at the taller, crossing his arms on the chest as if he’s ready to start an inquisition.
“Does it bother you this much?” he asks.
Yifan can feel himself blushing, heat pooling at his cheeks and at the tip of his ears. He clears his throat in a weak attempt to distract the other from his embarrassment and inhales.
“Not bloody likely! You are the teacher, he shouldn’t be courting you and-”
Yixing snorts, rolling his eyes, “Please,” he mocks. “The fact that I’m a teacher never stopped you from using your magical knowledge to hit me with rocks and wet all my books.”
“But that’s because we’ve known each other for years and you’re just a lousy swine!” Yifan retorts.
Yixing seems to be satisfied with the answer; he resumes the journey home and pulls his hood up again.
“At least Oh Sehun shows me some kindness.” the boy mutters.
Something lurches in his stomach; he’s not sure if lunch or the flooding rage he’s suddenly receiving from Yixing’s answer, and he cannot believe the other is trying to make a villain out of him. Well, perhaps he’s been a villain for the past 12 years and perhaps he can’t comprehend the reason why Yixing sticks to his side to the present day (since he’s a bastard incapable of a mild gesture of kindness). However, this is not the point. The point is that Yixing makes it seem like Oh Sehun is a better option than Yifan.
So he infuriates.
Yifan looks around and finds a few more beetles flying around. He focuses on the biggest bugs hovering the flowers and discreetly lifts his hands trying to channel all his energy into every single beetle. Once he’s felt control over the creatures flow through his veins, Yifan moves the insects towards Yixing.
It takes the other two seconds to scream and land straight onto the ground, at least twenty beetles working on disturbing his peace. Yifan laughs loudly, trying to ignore Lay’s butting on his leg, a not-so-effective way of protecting his master, at least not against Yifan. When Yixing stands up Yifan feels the dominance over the bugs completely fall away from him. The other glares at him, if not chocked by the attack, annoyed by Yifan’s risky usage of magic on living creatures.
“You know you can’t do that,” Yixing says. “Don’t use magic to control living creatures, that’s strictly forbidden.”
Yifan feels oddly exasperated. Why isn’t Yixing mad for being assaulted? “I use magic however it pleases me,” he tries, but even his proud self understands magic does not work that way.
Kris lands on his head, and Yifan wants to say it’s a terrible moment for his dragon to bring dead beetles over and try to build a nest in his hair.
A terrible feeling weights in his gut when Yixing shakes his head in clear disappointment, crouching briefly to pull Lay to his arms, caressing his companion before sighing, eyes never leaving Yifan’s.
Later, when they’re huddled by Yifan’s house’s fireplace (an old habit of when Yifan’s elder sister used to tell them stories before getting married to a knight), Yixing brings the subject back.
“They say if you use magic on living beings a will-o'-the-wisp will lead you out of life.” He says.
Yifan snorts, “Humpf! Gibberish; you have never even seen a wisp.”
“You don’t have to see one to know they’re real,” busying himself with the cloth of his vests, Yixing continues, lips parted and face serious. “I’m serious, Yifan. Don’t try to use your magic in ways you can’t understand.”
Yifan chuckles half-heartedly in effort of not seeming too convinced. “Don’t be foolish.”
There is silence for a minute, and it’s like the freezing cold air around them turned instantly hot. Yifan turns to face Yixing, and there is such expression on the other’s face, one he’s never noticed before - something between concern and dedication. Affection?
“Play with me if you want,” Yixing starts. “Burn my hair off, throw me from the top of the highest tower, but do not break the rules.”
“Why do you care if I break the rules,” He doesn’t even know why he challenged, but he does it anyway.
“You’re my student, I have to care.”
What burned the air instantly cooled it down, and Yifan snorts, mumbling stupid things that he doesn’t even believe in out of spite. He knows Yixing is right, and he knows he should follow his advice, but right now there is nothing he can bring himself to care about other than the fact that last sentence was not what he wanted to hear.
-
The first time Yifan flies Kris over the Yellow Meadow he thinks of Yixing, of how much he would like to fly there, to see what the flowers look like from above, and to feel like you own all of that. To feel like nothing can reach you. He thinks of Yixing and as soon as Kris returns to the ground (sadly smashing a few flowers in his landing), Yifan runs back to the village in sheer excitation; however, all happiness and enthusiasm crashes down once he spots Oh Sehun walking his friend home hand-in-hand.
Yifan stops on his tracks, arms falling limply on either side of his body and face soothing to a blank state. First he thinks he should have not missed today’s sorcery lesson (Kris was uneasy in hunger). Then he’s angry, but it’s a different kind of anger that makes his breathing hitch and chest ache. Yifan has never wanted so much to kill someone.
On the following day Yifan is, as usual, the first to get to Yixing’s house for the lessons, and as soon as the short one enters the small study, Yifan explodes an apple in his face. Just because he knows Yixing will get angry, even tho he said Yifan could prank him all he wanted. Just because he feels he owes himself that.
As soon as the frenzied fruit blows to smithereens right in front of his eyes and juicy pieces of apple fly to his face, Yixing sighs, probably because he’s seen that coming, because he’s too used to it.
Yifan smiles. It’s only the start.
After scullion Kim Jongin comes in and stupid Oh Sehun sits the closer to Yixing he can manage (Yifan huffs warm puffs of anger), Yifan tries to work four books into Yixing’s head (although this one fails due to Yixing’s unusual ability of predicting Yifan’s pranks. He should lose that one from now on), succeeds to drastically get the windows open and all the parchment lying around flying frantically out the house, and last but definitely not least, gets Kris burning a few strands of Oh Sehun’s hair.
He should say it’s been a fairly productive day when Yixing finally finishes the class and bastard Oh Sehun tries to initiate aimless conversation with the teacher.
Before the kid even get a word out of his mouth Yifan is standing next to him, smiling in a slightly obsessive way that most likely appears sick to by standers. And probably to Oh Sehun, who simply bows at Yixing and runs out of the study.
“What do you want, Wu Yifan? Have you forgotten to throw something else on me?” Yixing asks while organizing the remaining pieces of parchment on the desk.
“Actually, there’s something I want to show you.” He answers.
“I’m busy right now; Sehun is helping me fix my bed. Apparently he’s a fine woodworker.”
It’s not even the fact he’s mentioned Oh Sehun, but the fact Yixing doesn’t bring his eyes up to look at Yifan that irritates him the most.
“Why didn’t you ask me? I could have done it.”
Yixing snorts, slightly shaking his head. “And have you setting my house on fire as a joke? I appreciate the concern, but no.”
“Why would I set your house on fire?” Yifan questions, but it’s not like he doesn’t understand. He does, actually. He knows very well why Yixing glares at him with eyes likely to vaporize him in a heartbeat.
“Are you serious?” the other looks around as if staring at Yifan would burn his eyes. “I’m tired, Yifan. I’m really tired. All you seem to want is to piss me off! For God’s bones, can’t you stop for a bloody minute? Ever since we met, it has been like this, I’m the idiot trying to be your friend and you’re just too good to put up with me. Right?”
Yifan is wordless. He can just inspect Yixing as he pours everything out.
“Well congratulations! You’ve finally reached your greatest wish! I’m done with you and all your woodness!”
Yixing’s breathing is heavy, and he coughs a little. Yifan’s first instinct is to ask if he’s fine, but he doesn’t. He knows the answer and it would sound ridiculous to ask it now.
Once he’s sighed and seemingly calmed himself down, Yixing turns to speak. “I’ll ask my father to continue your studies, and you won’t ever have to face me again, all right? I’m sorry for being such a burden.” He looks up, and there’s that infuriating dimpled smile that initiated everything, the hateful smile that made Yifan want to throw rocks and push Yixing away. It’s only now that he realizes what that really means; that he shouldn’t have thrown rocks, and that he shouldn’t have pushed Yixing away.
-
There is one thing Yifan never mentions, one thing he always knew but never cared to think through - perhaps because he was aware of the consequences of doing so, perhaps because it took a considerable amount of effort to lock it safely where he could not reach.
8-year-old Yifan didn’t need much to live contently - only his family and a rainy day to jump on some puddles alongside Yixing.
And it’s playing on the puddles that Yifan realized there was something beautiful in the way Yixing laughed; the sound, the way the corners of his mouth curled up. He’s only ever heard such beauty in his mother’s laughter, and he ever thought no one would ever be as special as his mother.
And there it is Zhang Yixing and his never-seen magic talent, and his 80 year old brains and fairy beauty. 14-year-old Yifan thought that someone like that could never be human, because no one can be so beautiful, and so bare and filled with wisdom while so young. 14 year-old Yifan was aware of things, and he knew his heart beat a little faster whenever Yixing smiled. Perhaps because he enrages me, he thought.
Now 20 year-old Yifan knocks at Yixing’s door in a hurry not allowed in ungodly times of the day. Kris can feel his restlessness, batting his wings and huffing in anxiety as they wait for the door to be answered. Yifan knows Yixing’s father won’t answer the door, the old man never does.
When the door opens to reveal a sleepy Yixing, Yifan holds his breath.
“Yifan?”
“We need to talk.”
Yixing shakes his head, “We have nothing to talk about, and everything has been said already.”
“No, wait - I mean it, there’s-” Yifan’s hands are quick in refraining the door from closing him, Yixing’s angry stare burning holes on his face. “Can I please explain?”
“Explain what?” then the door is released and barged open, Yixing’s form finally leaving his shield to expose to Yifan’s eyes. “Why you’re the greatest scullion in this whole kingdom?”
Yifan considers. He’s not wrong, but, “No, not exactly. Why I don’t want your father to be my teacher.” Yixing frowns and Yifan thinks maybe he’s saying it all wrong. He quickly rephrases it. “I thought of you! While flying over the Yellow Meadow.”
Yixing’s rough expression soothes the slightest bit and Yifan thinks this, this is how he should say it. So he carries on. “We weren’t flying high and I could see all the fields and the flowers, even the little ones… And the beetles, the birds. And people too, but the flowers reminded me of you the most
“I know how much you like those fields, and all I could think about was how much I wanted you to see that, because I know it would mean a lot,”
Yixing hugs himself, and it’s a gesture Yifan hasn’t seen much, but endearing nonetheless. “What do you mean?
Yifan inhales, he figures he has to, before stepping closer and running a hand through Yixing’s hair. He was never really good with words and a lot of them may go unsaid, probably the most important ones, and that’s why he chooses to explain differently. He hopes he accomplishes to say everything he wants to say without uttering a single word.
He’s close now, impossibly close - so close he feels Yixing’s hitching breath and his glistening, plump lips are only a finger away. Yifan’s never realized how desirable Yixing’s lips are.
“I mean,” he says, and he brushes their lips together ever so naturally it feels like the hundredth time. Then he does it again, and one more time; he kisses Yixing’s chin, and his jaw, and when he feels hands closing on his vests, Yifan buries his hands on Yixing’s hair and kisses him definitely. This one feels like the first time.
Yixing smiles on the kiss, and it’s weird because Yifan can feel him smiling and it gets in the way of kissing and however much he loves Yixing’s smile, he realizes he loves kissing him better.
“I mean,” he repeats, parting the kiss just in time to listen to Yixing’s faint muttering of ‘You’re such a sweaty pig’. “Can I come in?”
As Yixing leads him inside, Yifan feels so triumphant he thinks he’ll dream of celebrating victory over Oh Sehun’s rotting, smelly corpse.
make up your mind // fanxing // 3k // romance or fluff? // for doseh
A/N: I am so terribly sorry I've ruined your prompt omg /cries river, oceans and storms/
Yixing knows he’s in for trouble when he steals Kris Wu’s apartment renovation project. He knows it isn’t his place as a newbie in the company to barge into his senior’s office and loot the files; he also knows there are cameras everywhere and that he’s definitely going to get caught. That’s why he prepares a heart wrenching plea for when his boss comes to confront him about the stolen project.
So now Yixing finds himself reviewing Kris Wu’s apartment blue prints, an eight room 2000 square feet apartment in Gangnam and he kinda shudders while inspecting the list of demands the idol star has made.
It appears that Kris Wu, former model nowadays TV host, wants a London inspired apartment, and by London inspired he certainly doesn’t mean London Eyes and Big Bens all around - he means London style, which happens to be ‘his style’ and Yixing can’t really understand what he means by make it Portobello-Carnaby style.
All he wanted was to have his first solo project at the company to be a huge one; he wanted Kris Wu to walk around blurting his name and as a result other celebrities running into Yixing and begging him to renovate their houses and apartments and design their firstborns. That’s all he wanted. It definitely wasn’t the weight of a thousand galaxies filled with an overflowing ego and the most handsome features he’s ever seen.
The first time they meet Minseok is with him. Being Yixing’s first signature project in the company, Minseok insisted he’d watch closely and it’s not like Yixing thinks it’s a bad idea. It’s good that Minseok would be there to clean his messes and save his ass when he screws up. Because he has a weird feeling that he’s going to screw up.
Kris Wu walks with the confidence of peacock, all colorful feathers and long neck staring down at Yixing like he stands high on a pedestal, sitting down like the chair was made for him and removing his shades like they were a huge burden. Yixing’s first reaction is frowning.
“Mr. Wu?” Minseok stands, offering Kris a hand. It goes untouched. It’s kinda painful to watch his best friend’s hand hanging rejected in the middle of the air as Kris Wu, recently discovered jerk, stares nonchalantly. Yixing’s frown intensifies. Minseok retreats his hand awkwardly. “Um. Welcome to Life Tree Architecture. We’ve been working on your ideas so far,”
Kris - rudely, Yixing might add, interrupts “Have you taken all my requests in consideration?”
“That’s what he said,” Yixing says. He doesn’t care for his tone like Minseok pathetically does, like this Kris Wu is the queen’s shit. “That we’ve been working on your ideas so far.”
He thinks Minseok is going to nudge him or apologize for his insolence, but the elder smiles awkwardly.
“Who’s this? I don’t think I’ve met him the last time I was here,” Kris Wu says and the way his eyes scan Yixing is worrying.
“His name is Zhang Yixing; he’s one of our finest. Yixing will be working on your apartment renovations.” Yixing even receives a bunch of Minseok’s anxiety as they wait for a word from Kris Wu, who obviously keeps staring at the duo as they both carry some sort of virus.
Three minutes in the presence of Kris Wu makes him automatically hit the dislike button on the other. Yixing can’t really tell what makes up his mind about Kris Wu (maybe the arrogance, or the way his blonde hair is offensively beautiful styled up), but right now there’s nothing he regrets more than stealing Minseok’s project.
Kris Wu’s long, ring decorated fingers scratch his chin in thought as his eyes scan Yixing’s figure like he’s a purchase. In certain way he is a purchase, but it doesn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable. And pissed. Yixing shifts in his seat and averts his look.
“Finest, you say?” Kris questions.
“Yes, Yixing graduated top of his class.” Minseok sounds desperate as he answers.
The moment Yixing lifts his eyes to take into Kris Wu’s features once again, the man is stretching his lips in what seems like the tiniest of smiles. “Did he?” then he leans into the table, arms crossed on the surface and amusement all over his face. “I have a long list of demands. Are you qualified to meet my needs, Zhang Yixing?”
Warmness hits his face and Yixing can swear his face is abnormally red. He tries hard not to sound like he’s choking when he clears his throat to utter a loud “What?”
Kris Wu looks like he’s got the confirmation he needed as he exclaims, “I’ll take him!”
Yixing narrows his eyes, “You what?” he inhales deeply in preparation for what comes next - an intense cussing rampage that’s strategically avoided by Minseok’s firm hand over his mouth.
“Don’t worry,” his senior says, that pathetic smile adorning his face. “Yixing will take good care of your project.”
“That’s what I hope.” Kris Wu stands up from his seating and collects his shades from the table. “I’ll return tomorrow by the same time with more specific aspects of our project, yes? I’m running late now,”
“No problems,” Minseok is quick in answering, standing up. Yixing just knows he’s pondering over offering his hand to Kris one more time.
“It was nice to meet you, Zhang Yixing. I look forward to testing your abilities.” Kris Wu says before he slides his shades in, and somewhere down Yixing’s throat, a feeling screams he’s into deep trouble.
-
Three encounters are enough to convince Yixing that Kris Wu is trying to get into his pants. From the weird winks to the occasional touching, his efforts are beyond obvious and each one of Yixing’s friends has an opinion on the matter.
"Bang him. What's the worst that could happen?" Luhan advices despite Minseok's worried this isn't a good idea.
"I think you should indulge him. Play along!" that's Baekhyun, known around the office for flirting with costumers.
Minseok has a different opinion. "Focus on your job, don't try to figure Kris Wu out because these famous folks are all damaged."
Although Yixing is used to explain his first impression on Kris Wu as a succession of cuss words, he does not have an opinion on the subject just yet. He's sitting on his work cubicle, trying to figure out the reason behind Kris Wu’s pointed smiles and suggestive winks when a new message pops into his email inbox.
From: wukris90@email.com
Subject: Blue Prints
Yixing,
I need the original blue prints back. Can you meet me at the Café near your office? It's really important that I get it today. I'll wait for your answer.
Kris.
Yixing stares at the message, frowning and trying to figure out if Kris Wu is trying to ask him out or just really in need of his belonging. Squinting at the screen for a little longer, Yixing stands up and walks to Minseok's office. His friend is peacefully working on his graphic tablet.
"Yes, Yixing?" Minseok asks without looking up from his tablet. The elder always had somewhat a weird sensor for Yixing's forthcoming.
"Kris Wu just emailed me," he starts and at mention of Kris Wu, Minseok immediately looks up. "I'm not sure if he wants to see me or if he just wants his blue prints back. He asked me to meet him at the cafe downstairs."
There's a moment before Minseok speaks. "He said he wanted to meet you for the blue prints?"
"Yes," Yixing plops himself at the guest chair at Minseok's table. "I'm not sure if I should decline. I mean, we do want to know if he wants my naked body. This might be our chance."
Minseok chokes on air, “We? I have no interest on the subject whatsoever; speak for yourself and perhaps for Baekhyun. And I strongly oppose to this idea. Tell him you're busy or something."
Maybe Minseok is right. Perhaps Yixing should email Kris back denying availability. However, the answer he types on his phone, right from Minseok's guest chair, is way different.
Sure. I'll be free by 5.
"What did you just type in there?" His senior is quick in asking. Yixing smirks.
"I'm curious, hyung."
The reproachful look on Minseok's eyes is enough for an answer. Yixing shrugs. "Yixing…"
"I've got this."
As soon as the clock hits 5pm, Yixing grabs Kris' blue prints and darts out of the company building.
The cafe is a famous place amongst workers of the area and Yixing himself has chosen the cozy atmosphere to finish work instead of his dull office several times. When he enters the cafe Kris Wu is already sitting at one of the back tables - probably trying to avoid customer’s attention - sipping at a coffee mug.
"Best thing about this place is the mug," Yixing mentions as he takes a seat. Kris nods at him in recognition, the oh-so-known smug look back in his eyes.
"Been here before?" Kris asks as Yixing hands him the blue prints suitcase.
"Yes," he signals for a waitress to come take his order. "Aren't you worried someone might spot you and take pictures of us?"
"Its kind of useless, they always do." Kris smiles effortlessly, as if doing so means nothing. "So, how is my new house coming out? Have you taken the British patterns I’ve said in consideration?"
Yixing gets the drink the waitress brings and turns to Kris. "Just fine. I've been using all of your ideas and I've also contacted the decorator earlier today. She's got the hang of apartments."
Kris nods, "Give me her contact information later," he takes another sip of his coffee. "If all of this turns out ok I might even invite you over after it's done."
It takes a lot of concentration not to choke on coffee and Yixing inhales deeply after dodging death. He looks over Kris, who gazes at him mirthfully.
"So... If that's it then we're done?"
"Seems like it," Kris answers, but something about the way he says it hints that he's not done. "Or we could stay a little longer?"
Yixing considers.
He could stay. There's nothing stopping him, he's done with work and there is Kris Wu, essentially Kris Wu, asking him to stay for a while longer and Yixing isn't one to impress easily. He didn't ever give a fuck about Kris Wu in particular but... That's an opportunity.
So he sighs. And nods. "I suppose we could."
-
Yixing never thought about himself as an easy prey, but it’s obvious Kris Wu does. So obvious he’s trying to woo Yixing over with subtle smiles and late night text messages (Yixing suspects Baekhyun is the one behind Kris Wu having access to his personal number).
He’s supposed to be sleeping when the clock hits 2am; instead, Yixing types angry answers back to Kris Wu’s insistent messages.
Can you please stop texting me? I really need to sleep.
He doesn’t even have time to enjoy the peaceful moment before his phone vibrates again. He rolls his eyes.
Sleep is for the weak, Zhang Yixing. Say, where are you going to be tomorrow morning?
He narrows his eyes.
Um. Work?
Ok. See you tomorrow then.
Yixing swears he’s afraid of that last sentence.
The reason behind the texts comes alongside a very confident Kris Wu when he barges into Yixing’s workspace to sit onto his table like it wasn’t actually made to support paper and other office things. Yixing merely narrows his eyes at the man - and he must notice, Kris has his hair perfectly styled sideways today and he looks gorgeous. Not that Yixing should mention.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
Kris shrugs, “You knew I was stopping by, don’t act so surprised.”
“Oh, did I?” he crosses his arms on his chest.
The other hums. “I texted you about it,” he picks at one of the pens splayed across Yixing’s table and inspects it like it might hide the secrets of the universe. “So, I have something for you.”
Kris reaches for something in his pocket and rescues a small black envelope, handing it over.
Yixing studies the envelope before opening it and removing the black piece of paper inside. It’s an invitation. For a party.
“What’s this?”
“Isn’t it clear? An invitation. I want you to come with me to this party a friend of mine is hosting.”
Yixing snorts, scratching behind his ear while tilting his head up to face Kris. The man grins at him, and there’s something different with the way the conversation flows. Somehow, Kris looks more comfortable; Yixing can’t decide if this is a good thing.
“You know this is your renovation sketches you’re sitting on, right?” Yixing mentions after realizing the other did not intend to remove himself from the table.
“Are you coming?” with the question completely ignored, Yixing has no choice other than to give him an answer.
He breathes, “I’ll make an appearance.”
“No, not make an appearance. You’ll be my date, I’ll come pick you up at 8 and you have to be perfectly dressed. Ok?”
Date? He mentally blurts, eyes wide as full moons and mouth slightly gaping. Although it’s not that surprising, since the odds have been in his favor since the beginning. Not that he wanted the odds to be in his favor. Or something.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kris says after his silence, standing up from Yixing’s desk and mindlessly running his fingers though Yixing’s jaw. What. “See you on Saturday, Yixing.”
-
Yixing feels slightly out of place. He’s appropriately dressed and his hair is just right but the vibes of that place. He just doesn’t like it.
Whenever a waiter passes by carrying a tray of whatever he stretches an arm to pick it up. He’s drank numerous unidentified liquids and ate several weird snacks and canapés with doubtful taste. The food is awful, the music is horrid and the party sucks.
He thinks the only good points surprisingly (but not actually) goes to Kris Wu, who is so handsome he almost looks like a Greek god and, better than that, has his whole attention solely on Yixing. Yixing likes the attention, even when he puts so much effort into not making it evident. Somehow, Yixing’s barely functioning brain has created this rule in which he must not let Kris Wu know he’s interested (because he’s already came to terms with the fact that he is, indeed, interested).
There are people dancing and chatting all around the hall, but Yixing is adamantly planted on his table seat and refuses to get up for any circumstances - except for the tray fishing because sometimes the waiter forgets to dump food over.
“Are you sure you don’t want to dance?” Kris asks nearly miserably and Yixing very nearly pities him. Very nearly.
“Very sure. Can’t you just get me some good food? I’m starving and they’re serving tea spoon portions and the fact that we’re spending a Saturday night at this place is your entire fault.” He retorts, avoiding Kris’ look. “And you call this a date…”
Yixing hears Kris’ loud sigh and turns to face him. He honestly expected Kris to be scowling and cursing him to eternal damnation. That’s not what he sees.
“You’re a piece of work, Zhang Yixing.” Kris is actually smiling. “But I guess that’s what makes you so attractive.”
And just like that, he leans over and presses a soft kiss to Yixing’s closed lips. It takes Yixing a minute or so to process what just happened. Once he’s recovered his senses Kris Wu is chuckling next to him, pulling him to his feet with the excuse of buying him some good food.
-
While he’s walking (if people can walk sitting in front of their computer while using a mouse to go to places) in the streets of London, Yixing wonders why the hell people still travel after Google Street View was invented. He’s visited every single English street Kris had demanded to be used as inspiration for his apartment renovations and even entered a few pubs to know exactly how to redefine the rooms.
He is halfway through the project in the comfort of his home when the Autocad software installed in his desktop PC abruptly comes to a stop due to his illegal ways of putting it to work. Yixing’s just graduated and he’s still a poor professional, therefore he cracked his working software. He just pirated it. It was the only way. And now it appears he’s paying for his wrongful deeds, but someone very important once said one should not feel guilty for those, so Yixing figures he won’t mop over the lost 3D-to-be line art and just start the whole thing all over again. Using paper and pencil.
It’s only when he goes for the roll of trace paper that he notices it’s gone. All of it. It’s all gone. Yixing clearly remembers acquiring that roll of paper legaly - he’s paid for that shit! What is he being punished for this time?
Sighing in defeat, Yixing grabs his phone. He only realizes he’s texting Kris once the message is sent.
I would like a pizza right now.
The answer is almost immediate.
Are you asking me out?
Yixing snorts. He wouldn’t do that. Not anytime soon.
No. I’m allowing you to treat me. Only because you’re rich and paying.
He figures that’s only fair, since he was working on a Sunday because of Kris in the first place.
I’ll accept this. I’m on a schedule now, but I guess I can be there in… Two hours? Will you still be hungry then?
Sure, I’m always hungry for free food.
Ok, I’ll be there.
Two minutes later there’s another text, one that has Yixing chuckling and receiving a gust of some feeling he’s not used to get from Kris’ text messages.
Wait. What’s your address?
That’s the first time Yixing actually understands everything he thought he knew about Kris Wu is wrong. He never actually knew the slightest bit about the other. Maybe it’s his fault for being so rushed into assumptions, maybe it’s Kris fault, he’s not sure. But right now, as he thinks about the whole weird process of getting to know Kris Wu, he thinks he would like to go further.
So he sends Kris his address and settles for a two hour nap.