DAY TWELVE ★ fancy seeing you here
Username: rideon9095
Prompt #: 157 [prompt details]canon: Yifan goes to buy a copy (a million copies) of Vogue China magazines because Zhang Yixing is delectable on it. He did not actually think he'd bump into Yixing at all, right after.
Title: Fancy seeing you here
Ship: Lay/Yifan
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,488 words
Warnings: Embarrassing Yifan.
Summary: Yifan is too cool to be doing this.
Notes: I am so sorry for everything.
In his almost 25 years of existence, he can only count the times that he has done something for someone he really likes because let us be real, he has not liked someone that much to do them a big favor or to do something extravagant to show them his affection. Not when he was in his senior high school and had a crush on the student council president who was not impressed with basketball players, believing they were a faction of human beings who only has big dicks but empty heads. He did not know where she got the notion, but well, he was flattered. Not when he got opened to the idea of swinging both sides and got persuaded by the first homosexual person who confessed to him. They clandestinely played with fire for a period of time, exploring the wonders of sex and whispering sweet words to each other every after orgasm, until he had to fly to Korea to chase his stardom dreams.
Doing these gestures for love is not his style and maybe if it is, he will still think twice about it as it may affect the overall rating of his coolness. His swag self will be at stake and there is nothing in this world that can ruin his cool image (even if only his loving and sweet mother supports his way of thinking).
He does not even know what love is at this point. It is something foreign to him, a subject he is afraid to discuss due to his apprehensions brought by the experiences of people around him and his own disastrous affiliations in the past. His parents got divorced when he was eight and his mother had been into a couple of failed relationships after that until she had decided she is better of alone. There are happily ever after stories out there like his grandparents' or his two friends who are still together after four years undeterred by the distance. However, he thinks it is frightening losing yourself to someone you are not sure can repay the love you give, to want someone to be with you all the time when they can't because of certain unfavorable circumstances, to open your heart with the probability that it can be broken by the same person who makes it beat any time.
That is why he questions himself how a simple idea he had developed into a plan and now he is here executing it in the middle of the fucking night.
This is really ridiculous, he repeatedly tells himself while he walks through a cold November evening in the busy streets of Shanghai. It is too late and too dangerous for him to be wandering in a metropolis that never runs out of people. If his managers find out that he went out of the hotel without their knowledge and if his professional detective-like fan ladies see him despite his disguise, he is going to be royally screwed.
He got this all covered. He steals a long-haired wig from his make-up artist, takes out his round fashion glasses that he thinks make his IQ shoot 10 points higher (LOL), and dresses up with a dirty gray tee underneath a lose denim shirt paired with his most baggy pants. He wears his security personnel's old beat up sneakers (Thank god they have the same size! Thank another god they do not smell!) to complete his Jared Leto look. He trusts no one will suspect who he is because he will never ever, in his esteemed lifetime, wear such abomination of clothes.
Everything is going well. No one has noticed who he is or cares how he looks. The nearest 24-hour convenience store in sight is two blocks away from his hotel so he continues to traverse going to his destination, avoiding eye-contact with people and keeping his act as a destitute slave of art looking for cheap cigarette for dinner. He keeps his head down and prays the group of girls with bazooka-looking cameras hanging out in the lobby of the hotel and some on the side of the street have not realized who has walked past them.
He only sighs in relief when he is already in a safe distance, away from the fans and from his security. He can now see the green and red blaring signature lights of the convenience store, almost telling him that he is only a few meters to success. He speeds up a little bit to get over this insane endeavor he puts himself in.
The store only has a total of five people inside including himself, three crew in sight and one other costumer who is waiting for his cup of coffee to fill. He immediately goes to the back where he wants to be, where the magazine stand is located. It is not hard to spot the covers he is looking for. His smile stretches from one ear to another, cheering internally for his triumph, when he sees the two magazines he is dying (and drooling) to own since he saw its previews weeks ago. He does not hesitate to take all the copies on display. He is not ashamed at all that he is hoarding two fashion magazines that are supposed to be for females. Well, he can argue that there are sections for male readers but still the look on the cashier's face when she is punching in 8 pieces of the same titles does not change the fact that homeless hipster looking guy is buying such reading materials.
"We ran out of bags. Do you want them tied instead?" The cashier informs him after paying for the items.
He only nods frantically and mutters "please make it quick" as his stay outside is longer than he expected and because he did not bring his phone, his paranoid manager might send a search party all over the city. He cannot afford to let that happen or his deepest and darkest secret will be known to public and he will be doomed for eternity.
The female staff moves leisurely, ignoring the way he keeps on looking at the door to see if there will be girls coming in that can recognize him. At this hour, thankfully, only night shift workers come in for coffee, too tired and too sleepy to mind other people within the vicinity. But the fact that there are fans lingering nearby and just waiting for him to make an appearance gets him a little bit antsy. No one can catch him buying these magazines.
In his worry, he does not hear when the door creaks open or when someone suddenly stands beside him. His mind is still occupied with running away and getting to his hotel as fast as possible like hoarding magazines at two in the morning did not happen. It takes him exactly six seconds before he notices that there is more than one pair of eyes looking at him. The cashier's face frigid at this point, her mouth is open and she halts bundling the magazines together. That is when he realizes who is beside him.
Holy shit this is not fucking happening.
There are no screaming fans outside. There are no flashing of cameras. But there are two tall, maybe taller than him, and bulky men wearing black all over that are standing in front of the store being intimidating and huge.
"Oh my god. Zhang Yixing." The cashier squeals but the said man puts his pointer finger against his lips, signaling her to be quiet. She keeps her mouth shut and just wiggles on her spot, the magazines now forgotten.
And then he panics. He cannot figure out what he will do because Zhang Yixing is here. Standing, breathing, existing beside him and he cannot figure out how to hide himself because there are unpacked magazines by the counter that are not difficult to identify. Obviously, anyone who sees them will think he owns them as he is the only one in the counter. He is the only customer inside aside from Zhang let-me-just-die-because-this-is-too-embarrassing Yixing. They are there, all eight of them where Zhang Yixing was featured (not even on the covers but look what he has done. What more once he poses for GQ and then graces the cover? God knows the sins he will commit when that time comes), for fried chicken's sake; where Zhang Yixing poses almost half naked, wet, attractive, seductively painful to look at that he will never, in million years, will admit he got countless boners whenever he looks at his phone at night as one of the scans is set as his wallpaper. Nope, never ever. And Zhang Yixing witnesses all of it. He wants to pee in his hobo pants.
But Zhang Yixing does not say anything. He just looks in his eyes. Oh god this mortal from heaven knows him. He can see it in those beautiful brown eyes of this beautiful man that he recognizes him despite his awful disguise. His soaring physique and slouching posture of course fucking rings a bell. The shorter man, without a doubt, can figure it out any time. The singer leaves him for a moment to get himself a tub of dark chocolate ice cream and a bag of marshmallows. So very Zhang Yixing, he notes. In a swift second, he returns at the counter to pay for everything and then turns to Jared Leto (or is it John Lennon?) wannabe.
That is it. He needs to run because no one shall know that he purchased something that is obviously Zhang Yixing-related at this hour especially the owner of that face! He gathers all of his magazine babies in his arms, giving no shit if they are still untied, to urgently flee out of the situation. Though, naturally, his body is the most uncoordinated creation of God Almighty and he is not bestowed with a lot of finesse before he was inserted to his mother's womb twenty something years ago, ergo he stumbles on his own feet in his haste and all the magazines he is carrying plunge majestically on the floor, scattering and making themselves more known to Zhang Yixing. This is the proudest time of his life; he feels the urge to cry.
He picks them up one by one, hoping Zhang Yixing will just leave him and his misery on the dirty floor. There is nothing he wants more now than to wake up to his fluffy bed next to his millions of plush toys so that he can make himself believe that this is all a nightmare.
"I think you need a ride home, my old friend." Zhang Yixing coaxes, voice gentle as always. So calming and sweet and it sounds so better than when it is accompanied by static over the phone. He is looking down at him, bag of goods he bought in his hands and waiting for him to finish picking up all the embarrassment he scattered on the floor.
"I.. uhh.. I am not.. who--" He mutters, still trying to deny his identity even though it is futile at that very moment, mentally slapping himself for his poor attempt to answer. He is standing upright now, towering the smaller one just like how he remembers when they last saw each other many months ago.
"It's been a long time. I can drive you back to your place." Zhang Yixing tells him and then he faces the watching cashier. "He's a friend from high school. Fancy seeing him here."
The lady only nods and then Yixing is dragging him by his arm; the two men in black scrutinizing him from head to toe. They seem to not trust his appearance but Yixing tells them that he is a friend and is riding with them.
There is no one inside the car aside from the four of them. One of the men is the driver and the other one is sitting in the passenger seat. He, Yixing, and his precious magazines, are alone at the back.
"Where to?" The driver asks, eyes not leaving the road.
"Just drive around for a while." Yixing instructs then he pulls the divider of the car down. They are not completely isolated as the partition can only muffle their voices; they still can be seen by the people in front but that is enough privacy compared when they are out in the streets. His heart starts to beat faster because now is the time to talk and explain about the magazines and his disguise and why he needs to do all of those amateur, not to mention moronic, scheme.
He finally removes his wig and glasses to reveal his shaved head, his real identity, his stupidity and Zhang Yixing only fucking laughs. It is kind of mocking but what can a guy like him do? He is foolishly obsessed with the smaller man that he cannot control himself. He is in love and there is no way he can show it but to get out at night to hoard magazines. If there is a solution to this, to this secret long-distance whatever that they cannot and will not label because they have no right, to this feelings that he cannot calm and are only limited to late night occasional phone calls, he will take it to free himself from all of these inexplicable emotions. But, unfortunately, there is no concrete or acceptable (within his standards) explanations to his feelings. All he can do is to be a dim-witted fool since that is what he does best.
And then he sees Yixing smile at him, those perfect dimples appearing. He is beaming at him, only him, and he thinks he will be okay feeling unresolved. This person in front of him is his even without confirmation. They do not need to tell each other how they are exclusive in spite of the distance and the concealment. Yixing is touching him, palms caressing his face in a way he remembers so well in that hotel room in Beijing where they last spent a night together, the younger cooped around his arms after they made love in the most passionate manner possible. He leans in to the contact to feel the memory more and to store as much Yixing as he can in his mind; his scent, his touch, his everything. He closes his eyes to savor this moment because he knows this will end soon once the ride is over. He knows they will be separated again and only these goddamned magazines will be his only refuge when he misses him. It is hard but he can manage as these touches are what he lives for. Being with Zhang Yixing at the end, maybe in a few years when they are both liberated from their responsibilities and when the world is ready, is what he lives for.
"I miss you," is all he says under his breath. It is the truth and even though he says it almost every day through texts and calls, he will never ever be tired of saying it especially when Yixing is right here within his reach. Maybe he should say more, more powerful words to convey his feelings, but he does not want to put pressure to the smaller man. He is contented like this. When the time is right, he will.
"I miss you too. I did not know I will see you like this." Yixing rests his body against his chest and, instinctively, he wraps his long limbs around his smaller body. It saddens him that Yixing feels so small and fragile unlike the last time he held him. He worries that he is overworking himself again. This is the most depressing part. He can only worry from afar.
Yixing buries his face in his neck, feeling his warm and even breathing on his skin. He wants to stay longer, to hold him longer; to just be with him for more than a few minutes without a care for the thousand spectators around them. But then just like any other stolen time, they have to part and go back to reality.
The kiss only lasts a few seconds until the car stops somewhere around the block of his hotel. Yixing hesitates to let him go which is quite a surprise because when they do these secret meetings, it is always him who clings and Yixing is the one who keeps their actions on check. He does not believe that the smaller man's arms are still encased around his torso, his head shaking and muttering something like "please just a little bit more" but his voice is muffled by his clothes so he is not sure if he is just imagining it or what. He gently pushes Yixing off of him to wear his disguise back. This is really time to go even if he wants to give Yixing a lot of kisses and tell him the words he oh so wants to say but can't.
"Here." Yixing fishes out a duffel bag under the seats and hands it to him. "Put them here."
"What?"
"The magazines. Or are you going to let people see you bought an intriguing number?"
He remembers that he still has not explained why he bought all those magazines and why he was in disguise. He figures Yixing already gets it and does not pry anymore. Knowing each other for almost a decade, he assumes Yixing discerns how his chicken brain works. There is no further explanation needed and he deeply hopes the younger can fathom the underlying meaning in these actions.
He obeys and puts the magazines inside. He figures he does not need to wear the disguise anymore but Yixing tells him to keep it as people might find out whose car he got off and it will be dangerous for them if it happens. The driver informs them that they are parked on the side street for too long and if they won't move now they might get towed.
"I need to go." He says and kisses Yixing's lips one last time, not giving a damn about the two body guards looking at them through the rear view mirror. Yifan realizes they are new but maybe if Yixing can trust them, he can too.
"I'll call you," Yixing promises. He knows he will but in an indefinite time. He is aware that the other is busy flying in and out of the country to perform his duties as a member of the group he once belonged alongside his commitments as an actor in their home land. It pains him to see Yixing exhaust his body like this. If the choice is in him, he would want Yixing to just come home and be with him so that he could take care of him all the time. But he knows Yixing is a man of honor and he would never break his word so he would stay with the group until the end even if he is killing his body to please the company and millions of fans. It is not enough that Yixing always assures him that he is fine and that he does not have to worry. He will always end up worrying.
Yifan hops down the car without looking back, only his duffel bag with him as he walks back to his hotel. His fangirls are still there even at this hour, ignoring him when he walks past them towards the direction of the elevators. He contemplates if he will go to the bar first to have some drinks before he sleeps. He thinks he needs something to burn the lingering distinct flavor of Yixing on his tongue. It will only make him sad if he can repeatedly taste him when he cannot be with him. But then he remembers he has a filming tomorrow morning and showing up with a hangover on the set is not so professional. He decides to sulk in his room and wallow in the pain that is Zhang Yixing.
From: Little Bunny
I am happy I saw you tonight. I miss you a lot, Yifan.
From: Little Bunny
And thank you for buying my magazines. Just please don't jerk off while looking at them. I prefer I do it for you when we're together :p
He is okay with it all, with doing all these grand gestures of love that he vowed he would not do for anyone as long as it is Zhang Yixing he does it for. He has no problem being a fool in love or dropping his cool ratings as long as he can make Zhang Yixing happy in his own peculiar ways. He throws his body on the bed and grunts. Yixing is really insufferable and fuck it all, he is dementedly in love with him.
Prompt #: 157 [prompt details]canon: Yifan goes to buy a copy (a million copies) of Vogue China magazines because Zhang Yixing is delectable on it. He did not actually think he'd bump into Yixing at all, right after.
Title: Fancy seeing you here
Ship: Lay/Yifan
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,488 words
Warnings: Embarrassing Yifan.
Summary: Yifan is too cool to be doing this.
Notes: I am so sorry for everything.
In his almost 25 years of existence, he can only count the times that he has done something for someone he really likes because let us be real, he has not liked someone that much to do them a big favor or to do something extravagant to show them his affection. Not when he was in his senior high school and had a crush on the student council president who was not impressed with basketball players, believing they were a faction of human beings who only has big dicks but empty heads. He did not know where she got the notion, but well, he was flattered. Not when he got opened to the idea of swinging both sides and got persuaded by the first homosexual person who confessed to him. They clandestinely played with fire for a period of time, exploring the wonders of sex and whispering sweet words to each other every after orgasm, until he had to fly to Korea to chase his stardom dreams.
Doing these gestures for love is not his style and maybe if it is, he will still think twice about it as it may affect the overall rating of his coolness. His swag self will be at stake and there is nothing in this world that can ruin his cool image (even if only his loving and sweet mother supports his way of thinking).
He does not even know what love is at this point. It is something foreign to him, a subject he is afraid to discuss due to his apprehensions brought by the experiences of people around him and his own disastrous affiliations in the past. His parents got divorced when he was eight and his mother had been into a couple of failed relationships after that until she had decided she is better of alone. There are happily ever after stories out there like his grandparents' or his two friends who are still together after four years undeterred by the distance. However, he thinks it is frightening losing yourself to someone you are not sure can repay the love you give, to want someone to be with you all the time when they can't because of certain unfavorable circumstances, to open your heart with the probability that it can be broken by the same person who makes it beat any time.
That is why he questions himself how a simple idea he had developed into a plan and now he is here executing it in the middle of the fucking night.
This is really ridiculous, he repeatedly tells himself while he walks through a cold November evening in the busy streets of Shanghai. It is too late and too dangerous for him to be wandering in a metropolis that never runs out of people. If his managers find out that he went out of the hotel without their knowledge and if his professional detective-like fan ladies see him despite his disguise, he is going to be royally screwed.
He got this all covered. He steals a long-haired wig from his make-up artist, takes out his round fashion glasses that he thinks make his IQ shoot 10 points higher (LOL), and dresses up with a dirty gray tee underneath a lose denim shirt paired with his most baggy pants. He wears his security personnel's old beat up sneakers (Thank god they have the same size! Thank another god they do not smell!) to complete his Jared Leto look. He trusts no one will suspect who he is because he will never ever, in his esteemed lifetime, wear such abomination of clothes.
Everything is going well. No one has noticed who he is or cares how he looks. The nearest 24-hour convenience store in sight is two blocks away from his hotel so he continues to traverse going to his destination, avoiding eye-contact with people and keeping his act as a destitute slave of art looking for cheap cigarette for dinner. He keeps his head down and prays the group of girls with bazooka-looking cameras hanging out in the lobby of the hotel and some on the side of the street have not realized who has walked past them.
He only sighs in relief when he is already in a safe distance, away from the fans and from his security. He can now see the green and red blaring signature lights of the convenience store, almost telling him that he is only a few meters to success. He speeds up a little bit to get over this insane endeavor he puts himself in.
The store only has a total of five people inside including himself, three crew in sight and one other costumer who is waiting for his cup of coffee to fill. He immediately goes to the back where he wants to be, where the magazine stand is located. It is not hard to spot the covers he is looking for. His smile stretches from one ear to another, cheering internally for his triumph, when he sees the two magazines he is dying (and drooling) to own since he saw its previews weeks ago. He does not hesitate to take all the copies on display. He is not ashamed at all that he is hoarding two fashion magazines that are supposed to be for females. Well, he can argue that there are sections for male readers but still the look on the cashier's face when she is punching in 8 pieces of the same titles does not change the fact that homeless hipster looking guy is buying such reading materials.
"We ran out of bags. Do you want them tied instead?" The cashier informs him after paying for the items.
He only nods frantically and mutters "please make it quick" as his stay outside is longer than he expected and because he did not bring his phone, his paranoid manager might send a search party all over the city. He cannot afford to let that happen or his deepest and darkest secret will be known to public and he will be doomed for eternity.
The female staff moves leisurely, ignoring the way he keeps on looking at the door to see if there will be girls coming in that can recognize him. At this hour, thankfully, only night shift workers come in for coffee, too tired and too sleepy to mind other people within the vicinity. But the fact that there are fans lingering nearby and just waiting for him to make an appearance gets him a little bit antsy. No one can catch him buying these magazines.
In his worry, he does not hear when the door creaks open or when someone suddenly stands beside him. His mind is still occupied with running away and getting to his hotel as fast as possible like hoarding magazines at two in the morning did not happen. It takes him exactly six seconds before he notices that there is more than one pair of eyes looking at him. The cashier's face frigid at this point, her mouth is open and she halts bundling the magazines together. That is when he realizes who is beside him.
Holy shit this is not fucking happening.
There are no screaming fans outside. There are no flashing of cameras. But there are two tall, maybe taller than him, and bulky men wearing black all over that are standing in front of the store being intimidating and huge.
"Oh my god. Zhang Yixing." The cashier squeals but the said man puts his pointer finger against his lips, signaling her to be quiet. She keeps her mouth shut and just wiggles on her spot, the magazines now forgotten.
And then he panics. He cannot figure out what he will do because Zhang Yixing is here. Standing, breathing, existing beside him and he cannot figure out how to hide himself because there are unpacked magazines by the counter that are not difficult to identify. Obviously, anyone who sees them will think he owns them as he is the only one in the counter. He is the only customer inside aside from Zhang let-me-just-die-because-this-is-too-embarrassing Yixing. They are there, all eight of them where Zhang Yixing was featured (not even on the covers but look what he has done. What more once he poses for GQ and then graces the cover? God knows the sins he will commit when that time comes), for fried chicken's sake; where Zhang Yixing poses almost half naked, wet, attractive, seductively painful to look at that he will never, in million years, will admit he got countless boners whenever he looks at his phone at night as one of the scans is set as his wallpaper. Nope, never ever. And Zhang Yixing witnesses all of it. He wants to pee in his hobo pants.
But Zhang Yixing does not say anything. He just looks in his eyes. Oh god this mortal from heaven knows him. He can see it in those beautiful brown eyes of this beautiful man that he recognizes him despite his awful disguise. His soaring physique and slouching posture of course fucking rings a bell. The shorter man, without a doubt, can figure it out any time. The singer leaves him for a moment to get himself a tub of dark chocolate ice cream and a bag of marshmallows. So very Zhang Yixing, he notes. In a swift second, he returns at the counter to pay for everything and then turns to Jared Leto (or is it John Lennon?) wannabe.
That is it. He needs to run because no one shall know that he purchased something that is obviously Zhang Yixing-related at this hour especially the owner of that face! He gathers all of his magazine babies in his arms, giving no shit if they are still untied, to urgently flee out of the situation. Though, naturally, his body is the most uncoordinated creation of God Almighty and he is not bestowed with a lot of finesse before he was inserted to his mother's womb twenty something years ago, ergo he stumbles on his own feet in his haste and all the magazines he is carrying plunge majestically on the floor, scattering and making themselves more known to Zhang Yixing. This is the proudest time of his life; he feels the urge to cry.
He picks them up one by one, hoping Zhang Yixing will just leave him and his misery on the dirty floor. There is nothing he wants more now than to wake up to his fluffy bed next to his millions of plush toys so that he can make himself believe that this is all a nightmare.
"I think you need a ride home, my old friend." Zhang Yixing coaxes, voice gentle as always. So calming and sweet and it sounds so better than when it is accompanied by static over the phone. He is looking down at him, bag of goods he bought in his hands and waiting for him to finish picking up all the embarrassment he scattered on the floor.
"I.. uhh.. I am not.. who--" He mutters, still trying to deny his identity even though it is futile at that very moment, mentally slapping himself for his poor attempt to answer. He is standing upright now, towering the smaller one just like how he remembers when they last saw each other many months ago.
"It's been a long time. I can drive you back to your place." Zhang Yixing tells him and then he faces the watching cashier. "He's a friend from high school. Fancy seeing him here."
The lady only nods and then Yixing is dragging him by his arm; the two men in black scrutinizing him from head to toe. They seem to not trust his appearance but Yixing tells them that he is a friend and is riding with them.
There is no one inside the car aside from the four of them. One of the men is the driver and the other one is sitting in the passenger seat. He, Yixing, and his precious magazines, are alone at the back.
"Where to?" The driver asks, eyes not leaving the road.
"Just drive around for a while." Yixing instructs then he pulls the divider of the car down. They are not completely isolated as the partition can only muffle their voices; they still can be seen by the people in front but that is enough privacy compared when they are out in the streets. His heart starts to beat faster because now is the time to talk and explain about the magazines and his disguise and why he needs to do all of those amateur, not to mention moronic, scheme.
He finally removes his wig and glasses to reveal his shaved head, his real identity, his stupidity and Zhang Yixing only fucking laughs. It is kind of mocking but what can a guy like him do? He is foolishly obsessed with the smaller man that he cannot control himself. He is in love and there is no way he can show it but to get out at night to hoard magazines. If there is a solution to this, to this secret long-distance whatever that they cannot and will not label because they have no right, to this feelings that he cannot calm and are only limited to late night occasional phone calls, he will take it to free himself from all of these inexplicable emotions. But, unfortunately, there is no concrete or acceptable (within his standards) explanations to his feelings. All he can do is to be a dim-witted fool since that is what he does best.
And then he sees Yixing smile at him, those perfect dimples appearing. He is beaming at him, only him, and he thinks he will be okay feeling unresolved. This person in front of him is his even without confirmation. They do not need to tell each other how they are exclusive in spite of the distance and the concealment. Yixing is touching him, palms caressing his face in a way he remembers so well in that hotel room in Beijing where they last spent a night together, the younger cooped around his arms after they made love in the most passionate manner possible. He leans in to the contact to feel the memory more and to store as much Yixing as he can in his mind; his scent, his touch, his everything. He closes his eyes to savor this moment because he knows this will end soon once the ride is over. He knows they will be separated again and only these goddamned magazines will be his only refuge when he misses him. It is hard but he can manage as these touches are what he lives for. Being with Zhang Yixing at the end, maybe in a few years when they are both liberated from their responsibilities and when the world is ready, is what he lives for.
"I miss you," is all he says under his breath. It is the truth and even though he says it almost every day through texts and calls, he will never ever be tired of saying it especially when Yixing is right here within his reach. Maybe he should say more, more powerful words to convey his feelings, but he does not want to put pressure to the smaller man. He is contented like this. When the time is right, he will.
"I miss you too. I did not know I will see you like this." Yixing rests his body against his chest and, instinctively, he wraps his long limbs around his smaller body. It saddens him that Yixing feels so small and fragile unlike the last time he held him. He worries that he is overworking himself again. This is the most depressing part. He can only worry from afar.
Yixing buries his face in his neck, feeling his warm and even breathing on his skin. He wants to stay longer, to hold him longer; to just be with him for more than a few minutes without a care for the thousand spectators around them. But then just like any other stolen time, they have to part and go back to reality.
The kiss only lasts a few seconds until the car stops somewhere around the block of his hotel. Yixing hesitates to let him go which is quite a surprise because when they do these secret meetings, it is always him who clings and Yixing is the one who keeps their actions on check. He does not believe that the smaller man's arms are still encased around his torso, his head shaking and muttering something like "please just a little bit more" but his voice is muffled by his clothes so he is not sure if he is just imagining it or what. He gently pushes Yixing off of him to wear his disguise back. This is really time to go even if he wants to give Yixing a lot of kisses and tell him the words he oh so wants to say but can't.
"Here." Yixing fishes out a duffel bag under the seats and hands it to him. "Put them here."
"What?"
"The magazines. Or are you going to let people see you bought an intriguing number?"
He remembers that he still has not explained why he bought all those magazines and why he was in disguise. He figures Yixing already gets it and does not pry anymore. Knowing each other for almost a decade, he assumes Yixing discerns how his chicken brain works. There is no further explanation needed and he deeply hopes the younger can fathom the underlying meaning in these actions.
He obeys and puts the magazines inside. He figures he does not need to wear the disguise anymore but Yixing tells him to keep it as people might find out whose car he got off and it will be dangerous for them if it happens. The driver informs them that they are parked on the side street for too long and if they won't move now they might get towed.
"I need to go." He says and kisses Yixing's lips one last time, not giving a damn about the two body guards looking at them through the rear view mirror. Yifan realizes they are new but maybe if Yixing can trust them, he can too.
"I'll call you," Yixing promises. He knows he will but in an indefinite time. He is aware that the other is busy flying in and out of the country to perform his duties as a member of the group he once belonged alongside his commitments as an actor in their home land. It pains him to see Yixing exhaust his body like this. If the choice is in him, he would want Yixing to just come home and be with him so that he could take care of him all the time. But he knows Yixing is a man of honor and he would never break his word so he would stay with the group until the end even if he is killing his body to please the company and millions of fans. It is not enough that Yixing always assures him that he is fine and that he does not have to worry. He will always end up worrying.
Yifan hops down the car without looking back, only his duffel bag with him as he walks back to his hotel. His fangirls are still there even at this hour, ignoring him when he walks past them towards the direction of the elevators. He contemplates if he will go to the bar first to have some drinks before he sleeps. He thinks he needs something to burn the lingering distinct flavor of Yixing on his tongue. It will only make him sad if he can repeatedly taste him when he cannot be with him. But then he remembers he has a filming tomorrow morning and showing up with a hangover on the set is not so professional. He decides to sulk in his room and wallow in the pain that is Zhang Yixing.
From: Little Bunny
I am happy I saw you tonight. I miss you a lot, Yifan.
From: Little Bunny
And thank you for buying my magazines. Just please don't jerk off while looking at them. I prefer I do it for you when we're together :p
He is okay with it all, with doing all these grand gestures of love that he vowed he would not do for anyone as long as it is Zhang Yixing he does it for. He has no problem being a fool in love or dropping his cool ratings as long as he can make Zhang Yixing happy in his own peculiar ways. He throws his body on the bed and grunts. Yixing is really insufferable and fuck it all, he is dementedly in love with him.