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Entry tags:
i found heaven in hard times ; one-shot
Title: I Found Heaven in Hard Times
Author: loudestoflove
Pairing: Lu Han/Yixing
Rating: G
Length: 850~ words
Summary: For being so big and crammed full of people, airports are kind of lonely places.
A/N: for fluff_bingo, prompt is 'safe'.
Author: loudestoflove
Pairing: Lu Han/Yixing
Rating: G
Length: 850~ words
Summary: For being so big and crammed full of people, airports are kind of lonely places.
A/N: for fluff_bingo, prompt is 'safe'.
For being so big and crammed full of people, airports are kind of lonely places. At least, they are to Lu Han. He sits on a bench near the arrivals gate, grateful that for once, the fans are giving him breathing room. Even so, his hands are full of gifts and he tries to ignore the eyes on him and the click of cameras. It's all part of the job now, he reminds himself.
Right now, he'd like to forget the trip he'd just returned from. He wants to forget wandering alone in Beijing, he wants to forget that there was no one there waiting for him at the airport. Home sweet home? Not so much anymore. Not that he's not used to it, by now. That doesn't make the ache in his chest go away, though.
Korea doesn't feel a whole lot better, though. Lu Han's shoulders hunch forward, fingers tightening around the straps of the gift bags the fans have given him, and he feels kind of small. His backpack weighs on him and the noise of the people bustling around him makes it hard to focus. He hates this sitting and waiting, especially with the eyes of the fans on him.
At least, he supposes, he's gotten good at faking a smile. He's tired from his flight, and he didn't get any sleep on the plane, but still he smiles a little for the fans. He likes to keep them happy.
His eyes are trained on the arrivals screen. Yixing's flight is here, he should be here. It makes him antsy. He shifts discreetly, chewing on the inside of his lip. His knuckles hurt from how tightly he's gripping his bags.
The noise of the fans around him increases and his head jerks up. There's a very familiar face pushing through the crowd towards him. Lu Han straightens with a start, struggling to hold on to the bags in his hands and shifting his shoulders under the straps of his backpack. His smile spreads across his face, wide enough to almost hurt, but he doesn't care.
The way that Yixing is grinning back, uninhibited and natural and huge, it melts away the ache in his ribcage. “You waited,” Yixing says by way of greeting. He's wearing the headphones that match with Lu Han's, and his hair is messy and fluffy. He's never been able to style it himself. He looks sweet and sleepy without the usual mask of cover up and Lu Han is hit with the sudden sense of familiarity, of home.
Lu Han laughs. “I said I would,” he points out. He stands and smiles helplessly at Yixing for a few seconds, until their manager catches them both by the elbow and nudges them forward towards where their van waits to pick them up.
“Sorry we were late,” Yixing says. Both their hands are full but Yixing stays close as he always does, his arm brushing up up against Lu Han's. “I couldn't figure out where I'd put my passport and then I dropped my bag –“
Yixing's presence makes it easy to forget so much. The shouting fans and their cameras, the whole mess of his trip home, it vanishes under the gentle tones of Yixing's voice and the lively spark of his eyes. “I wasn't waiting long,” Lu Han says. He's not sure if it's a lie, really – maybe it had only felt like a long time.
Yixing climbs into the van first, carefully setting all his fan gifts in the middle row before sliding into the back. When Lu Han gets in after him, Yixing pulls him in close, settling his arm around Lu Han's waist and his head on his shoulder. For a second, Lu Han is surprised, but he should've known that Yixing would pick up on his unease. Yixing catches his hand and laces their fingers together. “I didn't sleep on the plane,” he says, like it explains why he's wiggling as close as humanly possible to Lu Han.
Yixing has always had the unerring ability to sense when Lu Han needs him, insinuating himself into Lu Han's personal space until all Lu Han can smell is Yixing's shampoo and he can feel Yixing's heartbeat, against his ribs and the palm of his hand. He's the only one Lu Han lets in like this. “Did you miss me?” Lu Han asks, voice so soft it's barely audible. It's a needy question, and Lu Han doesn't like how vulnerable it makes him feel but he needs the reassurance right now.
“Always,” Yixing says firmly, squeezing Lu Han's hand tight in his. Lu Han twists to look down at him, and Yixing is looking up at him. There's a certainty, a sense of permanence to his gaze and his weight against Lu Han's shoulder. “I always miss you.” Yixing glances up at the front of the van, where their manager sits, then stretches to press a kiss to the line of Lu Han's throat.
The lingering ache of Lu Han's trip home is erased with the touch of Yixing's lips, and Lu Han smiles. “That's better,” Yixing says happily. Lu Han lets his head drop to rest against Yixing's and laughs.
Right now, he'd like to forget the trip he'd just returned from. He wants to forget wandering alone in Beijing, he wants to forget that there was no one there waiting for him at the airport. Home sweet home? Not so much anymore. Not that he's not used to it, by now. That doesn't make the ache in his chest go away, though.
Korea doesn't feel a whole lot better, though. Lu Han's shoulders hunch forward, fingers tightening around the straps of the gift bags the fans have given him, and he feels kind of small. His backpack weighs on him and the noise of the people bustling around him makes it hard to focus. He hates this sitting and waiting, especially with the eyes of the fans on him.
At least, he supposes, he's gotten good at faking a smile. He's tired from his flight, and he didn't get any sleep on the plane, but still he smiles a little for the fans. He likes to keep them happy.
His eyes are trained on the arrivals screen. Yixing's flight is here, he should be here. It makes him antsy. He shifts discreetly, chewing on the inside of his lip. His knuckles hurt from how tightly he's gripping his bags.
The noise of the fans around him increases and his head jerks up. There's a very familiar face pushing through the crowd towards him. Lu Han straightens with a start, struggling to hold on to the bags in his hands and shifting his shoulders under the straps of his backpack. His smile spreads across his face, wide enough to almost hurt, but he doesn't care.
The way that Yixing is grinning back, uninhibited and natural and huge, it melts away the ache in his ribcage. “You waited,” Yixing says by way of greeting. He's wearing the headphones that match with Lu Han's, and his hair is messy and fluffy. He's never been able to style it himself. He looks sweet and sleepy without the usual mask of cover up and Lu Han is hit with the sudden sense of familiarity, of home.
Lu Han laughs. “I said I would,” he points out. He stands and smiles helplessly at Yixing for a few seconds, until their manager catches them both by the elbow and nudges them forward towards where their van waits to pick them up.
“Sorry we were late,” Yixing says. Both their hands are full but Yixing stays close as he always does, his arm brushing up up against Lu Han's. “I couldn't figure out where I'd put my passport and then I dropped my bag –“
Yixing's presence makes it easy to forget so much. The shouting fans and their cameras, the whole mess of his trip home, it vanishes under the gentle tones of Yixing's voice and the lively spark of his eyes. “I wasn't waiting long,” Lu Han says. He's not sure if it's a lie, really – maybe it had only felt like a long time.
Yixing climbs into the van first, carefully setting all his fan gifts in the middle row before sliding into the back. When Lu Han gets in after him, Yixing pulls him in close, settling his arm around Lu Han's waist and his head on his shoulder. For a second, Lu Han is surprised, but he should've known that Yixing would pick up on his unease. Yixing catches his hand and laces their fingers together. “I didn't sleep on the plane,” he says, like it explains why he's wiggling as close as humanly possible to Lu Han.
Yixing has always had the unerring ability to sense when Lu Han needs him, insinuating himself into Lu Han's personal space until all Lu Han can smell is Yixing's shampoo and he can feel Yixing's heartbeat, against his ribs and the palm of his hand. He's the only one Lu Han lets in like this. “Did you miss me?” Lu Han asks, voice so soft it's barely audible. It's a needy question, and Lu Han doesn't like how vulnerable it makes him feel but he needs the reassurance right now.
“Always,” Yixing says firmly, squeezing Lu Han's hand tight in his. Lu Han twists to look down at him, and Yixing is looking up at him. There's a certainty, a sense of permanence to his gaze and his weight against Lu Han's shoulder. “I always miss you.” Yixing glances up at the front of the van, where their manager sits, then stretches to press a kiss to the line of Lu Han's throat.
The lingering ache of Lu Han's trip home is erased with the touch of Yixing's lips, and Lu Han smiles. “That's better,” Yixing says happily. Lu Han lets his head drop to rest against Yixing's and laughs.
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