sing for me
Title: sing for me
Rating: G
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Word Count: 1,547 words
Summary: The park is quiet today.
He’s sitting beneath a tree, fingers strumming against his guitar, his bare toes curled into the damp grass beneath him. A cool spring breeze ruffles the leaves above his head, whispering along to the light tune that escapes the strings.
The park is quiet today, absent of running children and frantic mothers, of barking dogs and their jittery owners, of laughing couples leaning against each other, side by side on worn, wooden benches. Only the occasional chirp of birds and rustling of wind reaches the man’s ears, molding into a part of his music. He smiles gently to no one, humming under his breath as he strikes up another song, giving a slight swing to the tempo.
A trail of footsteps join in with the beat, stopping just a few feet away. The newcomer pauses, rocking back slightly on the heels of worn sneakers as he watches the man beneath the tree with a tilt of his head, his gaze curious and his lips pursed, inquiring an unspoken question.
The man pauses and looks up from his guitar. He stares blankly for a few seconds, watching with confused eyes as the stranger smiles sheepishly, playing with the strap of his canvas bag. He turns his eyebrows up in a hopeful expression, staying silent as he gestures towards the instrument in the man’s lap, then hesitantly pointing at the base of his neck.
After another beat of uncertain bewilderment, it makes sense. With his eyes crinkling in amusement, the man on the ground gives an encouraging nod, and the other’s face breaks into a wide, toothy grin. Settling himself cross-legged in front of the guitarist, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, he closes his eyes and takes a slow breath as the man picks up the bright melody once again with a touch of his fingers.
The stranger begins to sing. Softly at first, his lips barely parted as the sound floats from his mouth, but gradually the tremor in his voice lessens and the sound grows stronger as confidence seeps in.
Yixing smiles to himself and allows Jongdae’s voice to absorb him and his guitar into the music that bubbles up around the pair, becoming the wind that rustles the leaves above their heads.
-
It’s soon a regular occurrence, becoming more frequent as the days stretch into summer and the sun glares brighter in the sky. Under the shade of the tree, Yixing plays his guitar, often singing along with a quiet harmony as Jongdae’s voice filters throughout the park effortlessly. Sometimes they get an audience, a small smattering of curious bystanders who observe the duo from a distance, but more often they find themselves alone, passing music back and forth, teaching each other new songs and reviving old ones.
Jongdae never speaks. The faded lettering on the flap of his bag is the only indication of his name, and the first time Yixing says it out loud, Jongdae jolts visibly at the sound of the familiar syllables rolling off of Yixing’s tongue, staring at the other in disbelief. “It’s on your bag,” Yixing tells him helpfully, pointing at the belonging that’s placed at Jongdae’s side. The young man looks down and traces the lettering with fragile-looking hands, before breaking into a small fit of giggles, giving Yixing an apologetic grin as he pulls the bag into his lap and hugs it tightly to his chest.
Yixing makes a point to say Jongdae’s name a lot more often from then on, and the smile he receives each time is more than rewarding.
-
“So why don’t you ever talk?” Yixing manages to ask one day, shrinking back against the tree as Jongdae raises an eyebrow and gives him an unimpressed look. Yixing puts his hands up in defense. “Okay okay, I get it, you can’t answer the question.” He lowers his arms and rests them against his guitar, leaning forward and watching Jongdae thoughtfully. The other avoids his gaze and picks at the threads of his faded sleeves, pulling the cuffs tight over his knuckles.
“It’s not that you can’t speak, right? You just refuse to.” At this, Jongdae nods warily, and Yixing presses the matter forward. “Can I ask why?”
Jongdae thinks for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinizes Yixing’s face for a good ten seconds. Then, with a sudden movement, he pulls his bag into his lap and reaches in, rummaging through its contents with his tongue stuck between his teeth until he pulls out a thin black marker. Pulling off the cap, he motions for Yixing to hold out his arm. The other obliges, and Jongdae writes out a message in careful strokes on the back of Yixing’s wrist.
When he’s done, Jongdae returns the marker to his bag, getting to his feet and giving Yixing a cheerful wave.
“Jongdae, wait-”
But the other man turns and slings his pack over one shoulder, his footsteps light and unhurried as he walks away from their tree. Yixing frowns and drops his gaze to his wrist, squinting as he deciphers the words that decorate his skin.
If you give me a kiss, maybe I’ll tell you.
-
Jongdae doesn’t show up the next day.
Alone under the tree, Yixing sits in silence, unable to bring himself to play his instrument without Jongdae there to sing along. He fiddles idly with the strings of his guitar, observing the people that cross through the park, as absorbed in their own lives as Yixing is in his, absentmindedly mulling over the faded words that are still visible on his wrist.
Evening shadows are already falling across the park when Yixing hears the familiar crunch of grass beneath soft footsteps. Illuminated by the orange glow of the sunset that filters through the leaves of the tree, Jongdae looks down at Yixing and gives an awkward smile, the scattered light highlighting patterns against his small figure.
Yixing snorts and raises an eyebrow. “Took you long enough.” His tone is light and teasing, but Jongdae just bites his lip nervously in response, hanging his head in apology and averting his eyes. He’s playing with the band of his canvas bag again, and Yixing sighs and reaches up, grabbing Jongdae’s hands and pulling them away from their hold on the strap.
“Hey... look at me.”
Jongdae lifts his gaze to Yixing’s, his eyes round and uncertain as he allows the other to tug him closer, obediently bending down until Yixing is able to wind his fingers in Jongdae’s hair. With a tiny grin, Yixing leans forward and presses his lips gently against Jongdae’s, his eyelids fluttering closed as the other’s own eyes widen in shock. Jongdae quickly pulls away, standing up straight and giving Yixing a large, vulnerable stare, trembling fingers coming up to touch his parted lips in disbelief.
With a soft chuckle, Yixing offers a hand up to the other man, and Jongdae slowly curls his fingers through Yixing’s, a shaky smile breaking onto his face as he allows Yixing to pull him into his lap, hesitantly leaning back against Yixing’s chest as the other presses a second kiss to Jongdae’s temple. “Will you tell me now?”
With a small nod, Jongdae brings his knees up and wraps his arms tight around them, shrinking in on himself as he opens his mouth and speaks for the first time.
“I-”
He cuts off, swallowing nervously, and gives an apologetic smile to his feet as he tries again.
“It’s just t-that I-” With a groan, his words fail again and he falls back against Yixing’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.
“I have a s-stuttering problem, okay?”
Finally completing his sentence, Jongdae immediately hides his face in his arms, only reluctantly unfolding himself when Yixing pokes him gently in his sides. With a squeak of indignation, Jongdae swats at the other’s hands, but Yixing only proceeds to wrap them around Jongdae’s waist instead.
“Is that all it was?” He grins and leans his chin on Jongdae’s shoulder, blowing annoyingly in his companion’s ear. “It doesn’t seem to affect your singing, though.”
Jongdae shrugs slightly. “It-it goes away w-when I sing,” He says quietly, glancing up at the fading orange glow that still stretches across the sky. “It’s the only thing I c-can do confid-”
His words stutter to a halt again, and Jongdae lets out a weak noise of disappointment through his nostrils. “S-sorry.”
“Stupid.” Yixing hits him lightly on the back of the head, laughing when Jongdae yelps and turns to glare. “That’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s just part of who you are.”
Jongdae says nothing, but Yixing can sense the gratitude from the faint smile that spreads on the other’s face. With a bright grin of his own, Yixing reaches for his guitar where it lies in the grass, placing it in Jongdae’s lap and reaching around the other to position his fingers on the strings, settling on a simple major chord and giving the instrument a gentle strum.
“Sing for me, Jongdae.”
Jongdae does just that, his voice ringing out into the air, as soothing as the evening breeze that shivers through the leaves and as calming as the trails of night that slowly begin to inch their way across the sky.
A/N: sobs i like cute things these two are cute and i just. anybody else remember the King's Speech because that was like the best movie and thanks for reading omfsgadksf /crawls away
Rating: G
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Word Count: 1,547 words
Summary: The park is quiet today.
He’s sitting beneath a tree, fingers strumming against his guitar, his bare toes curled into the damp grass beneath him. A cool spring breeze ruffles the leaves above his head, whispering along to the light tune that escapes the strings.
The park is quiet today, absent of running children and frantic mothers, of barking dogs and their jittery owners, of laughing couples leaning against each other, side by side on worn, wooden benches. Only the occasional chirp of birds and rustling of wind reaches the man’s ears, molding into a part of his music. He smiles gently to no one, humming under his breath as he strikes up another song, giving a slight swing to the tempo.
A trail of footsteps join in with the beat, stopping just a few feet away. The newcomer pauses, rocking back slightly on the heels of worn sneakers as he watches the man beneath the tree with a tilt of his head, his gaze curious and his lips pursed, inquiring an unspoken question.
The man pauses and looks up from his guitar. He stares blankly for a few seconds, watching with confused eyes as the stranger smiles sheepishly, playing with the strap of his canvas bag. He turns his eyebrows up in a hopeful expression, staying silent as he gestures towards the instrument in the man’s lap, then hesitantly pointing at the base of his neck.
After another beat of uncertain bewilderment, it makes sense. With his eyes crinkling in amusement, the man on the ground gives an encouraging nod, and the other’s face breaks into a wide, toothy grin. Settling himself cross-legged in front of the guitarist, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, he closes his eyes and takes a slow breath as the man picks up the bright melody once again with a touch of his fingers.
The stranger begins to sing. Softly at first, his lips barely parted as the sound floats from his mouth, but gradually the tremor in his voice lessens and the sound grows stronger as confidence seeps in.
Yixing smiles to himself and allows Jongdae’s voice to absorb him and his guitar into the music that bubbles up around the pair, becoming the wind that rustles the leaves above their heads.
-
It’s soon a regular occurrence, becoming more frequent as the days stretch into summer and the sun glares brighter in the sky. Under the shade of the tree, Yixing plays his guitar, often singing along with a quiet harmony as Jongdae’s voice filters throughout the park effortlessly. Sometimes they get an audience, a small smattering of curious bystanders who observe the duo from a distance, but more often they find themselves alone, passing music back and forth, teaching each other new songs and reviving old ones.
Jongdae never speaks. The faded lettering on the flap of his bag is the only indication of his name, and the first time Yixing says it out loud, Jongdae jolts visibly at the sound of the familiar syllables rolling off of Yixing’s tongue, staring at the other in disbelief. “It’s on your bag,” Yixing tells him helpfully, pointing at the belonging that’s placed at Jongdae’s side. The young man looks down and traces the lettering with fragile-looking hands, before breaking into a small fit of giggles, giving Yixing an apologetic grin as he pulls the bag into his lap and hugs it tightly to his chest.
Yixing makes a point to say Jongdae’s name a lot more often from then on, and the smile he receives each time is more than rewarding.
-
“So why don’t you ever talk?” Yixing manages to ask one day, shrinking back against the tree as Jongdae raises an eyebrow and gives him an unimpressed look. Yixing puts his hands up in defense. “Okay okay, I get it, you can’t answer the question.” He lowers his arms and rests them against his guitar, leaning forward and watching Jongdae thoughtfully. The other avoids his gaze and picks at the threads of his faded sleeves, pulling the cuffs tight over his knuckles.
“It’s not that you can’t speak, right? You just refuse to.” At this, Jongdae nods warily, and Yixing presses the matter forward. “Can I ask why?”
Jongdae thinks for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinizes Yixing’s face for a good ten seconds. Then, with a sudden movement, he pulls his bag into his lap and reaches in, rummaging through its contents with his tongue stuck between his teeth until he pulls out a thin black marker. Pulling off the cap, he motions for Yixing to hold out his arm. The other obliges, and Jongdae writes out a message in careful strokes on the back of Yixing’s wrist.
When he’s done, Jongdae returns the marker to his bag, getting to his feet and giving Yixing a cheerful wave.
“Jongdae, wait-”
But the other man turns and slings his pack over one shoulder, his footsteps light and unhurried as he walks away from their tree. Yixing frowns and drops his gaze to his wrist, squinting as he deciphers the words that decorate his skin.
If you give me a kiss, maybe I’ll tell you.
-
Jongdae doesn’t show up the next day.
Alone under the tree, Yixing sits in silence, unable to bring himself to play his instrument without Jongdae there to sing along. He fiddles idly with the strings of his guitar, observing the people that cross through the park, as absorbed in their own lives as Yixing is in his, absentmindedly mulling over the faded words that are still visible on his wrist.
Evening shadows are already falling across the park when Yixing hears the familiar crunch of grass beneath soft footsteps. Illuminated by the orange glow of the sunset that filters through the leaves of the tree, Jongdae looks down at Yixing and gives an awkward smile, the scattered light highlighting patterns against his small figure.
Yixing snorts and raises an eyebrow. “Took you long enough.” His tone is light and teasing, but Jongdae just bites his lip nervously in response, hanging his head in apology and averting his eyes. He’s playing with the band of his canvas bag again, and Yixing sighs and reaches up, grabbing Jongdae’s hands and pulling them away from their hold on the strap.
“Hey... look at me.”
Jongdae lifts his gaze to Yixing’s, his eyes round and uncertain as he allows the other to tug him closer, obediently bending down until Yixing is able to wind his fingers in Jongdae’s hair. With a tiny grin, Yixing leans forward and presses his lips gently against Jongdae’s, his eyelids fluttering closed as the other’s own eyes widen in shock. Jongdae quickly pulls away, standing up straight and giving Yixing a large, vulnerable stare, trembling fingers coming up to touch his parted lips in disbelief.
With a soft chuckle, Yixing offers a hand up to the other man, and Jongdae slowly curls his fingers through Yixing’s, a shaky smile breaking onto his face as he allows Yixing to pull him into his lap, hesitantly leaning back against Yixing’s chest as the other presses a second kiss to Jongdae’s temple. “Will you tell me now?”
With a small nod, Jongdae brings his knees up and wraps his arms tight around them, shrinking in on himself as he opens his mouth and speaks for the first time.
“I-”
He cuts off, swallowing nervously, and gives an apologetic smile to his feet as he tries again.
“It’s just t-that I-” With a groan, his words fail again and he falls back against Yixing’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.
“I have a s-stuttering problem, okay?”
Finally completing his sentence, Jongdae immediately hides his face in his arms, only reluctantly unfolding himself when Yixing pokes him gently in his sides. With a squeak of indignation, Jongdae swats at the other’s hands, but Yixing only proceeds to wrap them around Jongdae’s waist instead.
“Is that all it was?” He grins and leans his chin on Jongdae’s shoulder, blowing annoyingly in his companion’s ear. “It doesn’t seem to affect your singing, though.”
Jongdae shrugs slightly. “It-it goes away w-when I sing,” He says quietly, glancing up at the fading orange glow that still stretches across the sky. “It’s the only thing I c-can do confid-”
His words stutter to a halt again, and Jongdae lets out a weak noise of disappointment through his nostrils. “S-sorry.”
“Stupid.” Yixing hits him lightly on the back of the head, laughing when Jongdae yelps and turns to glare. “That’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s just part of who you are.”
Jongdae says nothing, but Yixing can sense the gratitude from the faint smile that spreads on the other’s face. With a bright grin of his own, Yixing reaches for his guitar where it lies in the grass, placing it in Jongdae’s lap and reaching around the other to position his fingers on the strings, settling on a simple major chord and giving the instrument a gentle strum.
“Sing for me, Jongdae.”
Jongdae does just that, his voice ringing out into the air, as soothing as the evening breeze that shivers through the leaves and as calming as the trails of night that slowly begin to inch their way across the sky.
A/N: sobs i like cute things these two are cute and i just. anybody else remember the King's Speech because that was like the best movie and thanks for reading omfsgadksf /crawls away