I wanna sleep next to you, but that’s all I wanna do right now/ I wanna come home to you,

but home is just a room full of the safest sounds -Troye Sivan/ Talk Me Down

“Yixing”

“Yixing”

“Yixing”

He wants to rip his name off his lips, he wants to tell him it’s Lay, he wants to tell him he pronounces it all wrong with his Korean accent, wants to tell him to stay quiet because he is working, but instead his eyes stayed on the computer screen, focused on some mix of electro beats he is adjusting. Jongdae tugged at one of his earphones and lean on him gently, knowing full well that he is ticklish around the neck, “Yixing, I brought my Instax, let’s go somewhere nice”.

Yixing snorted, shaking his head a bit before closing the laptop screen; there’s no use arguing with Jongdae, they’re on vacation anyway, work can wait.

It has been two days since he went to Bangkok, and quite honestly, he is expecting for Jongdae to show up at any moment and he did, knocking gently on the apartment flat he had rented for a week, with a smile as radiant as a warm Thailand evening, with a black travelling bag slung around his shoulders.

“Do you have room for a plus one?”

Yixing cannot point out the exact moment it happened, but he is quite certain it’s sometime after he did solo works in China and away from the rest of them. He would be on vacation, and Jongdae would show up unexpectedly; he was halfway through his Caesar Salad somewhere in the heart of Santorini, and Jongdae appeared, flushed from walking underneath the sun, sweat sticking on the back of his white polo. That one time he went to Bali for a three day vacation, Jongdae showed up, and they spent the weekend surfing. He remembered he had asked him, “Why are you following me?”

And Jongdae smiled, letting his shoulders ease up and relax on the wicker lounge before sipping on his tequila sunrise, he said something between the lines of I missed you, and am I not allowed to go to Indonesia anymore?

Then there’s also that time he went to Milan, then Naples, Phnom Penh, and it became normal- he would get time to unwind and Jongdae will be there too- unannounced. Somehow it is comforting, Yixing thought going places alone is a bit sad, and all the free time he had was filled with Jongdae’s laughter and snippets about the silliest and most mundane stories of how Baekhyun is now trying to "grow" abs or how Kyungsoo is getting more movie offers. With Jongdae, he feels closer to his second home and second family, being with him feels like Seoul is just beside him, surfing with him in Bali or eating greek salad with him in Santorini.

They were walking along the streets of Chitralada Palace, typical tourists among the sea of locals threading in city traffic and noise, here, they are safe, and most of the time nobody recognizes them once they pulled on a face mask or a hoodie or a cap. Jongdae pointed somewhere, looking at him, eager, Yixing followed what he was pointing at-- and it was a signage going to the Dusit Zoo.

He watch as Jongdae waste several stacks of Polaroid films just taking pictures of random animals; he followed closely behind him, taking comfort in the wheezing sound of his instax, both hands inside the pockets of his jeans as he looked around the monkeys and the elephants and the Bengal tigers, taking a minute to recall the last time he was inside a zoo, probably ten years ago?

They took a detour to Khao San Road a little later in the evening and found themselves surrounded by food and shopping stalls, they settled for a mini shack, each of them eating two bowls of Tom Yum while skimming through Jongdae’s photos, and Yixing had to laugh because half of them were overexposed.

The night ended on them in the river of Patravadi, and in the middle of road performers doing acrobatics and drum exhibitions, Yixing felt Jongdae’s fingers curl through his before completely holding his hand, Yixing smiled, thankful for the noise of the crowd which somehow concealed the loud beating of his heart.

It’s a different story in Japan where EXO is more popular, and Yixing decided that he will spend his vacation in Hiroshima instead of Tokyo. It was probably Junmyeon who gave Jongdae his address there because he is the only person who bothers to check on him regularly. The room he rented was really small so they had to share the bed, hogging the blanket, he slept with Jongdae’s feet tangled with his, and the bed felt so little against the weight of two men but he found comfort in Jongdae’s even breathing and the warmth it sends on the side of his neck.

The morning was cold as Yixing sat down two cups of Jasmine tea on the table before cooking breakfast, Jongdae appeared, still dazed from sleep as he stand beside him and lean his head on his shoulder before gasping, “What in the world are you cooking?”

“Silkie chicken*?” he murmured, shrugging off Jongdae’s head and stirring the wok with a pair of chopsticks, “Black chicken, I got it for a bargain in the market earlier, 3,000 yen”.

“Didn’t know such a thing exists, it’s scary” Jongdae sat down and drank the tea while admiring the clear Hiroshima sky from the small kitchen window.

“You’re scared of black chickens more than being mobbed by fans here?” Yixing chuckled before pouring the dish on a plate and serving some to Jongdae., “What were you thinking? Flying here out of the blue”.

Silence, as if Jongdae is absorbing all the minute details of the black chicken meat and veggies on his plate.

“The first time we met” Jongdae suddenly blurted out .

“Huh?” Yixing stops midway at sipping his tea.

“The first time we met? During trainee days? You were talking about some kind of black chicken that your dad raises in a farm, you don’t remember?”

Yixing shrugged, “I don’t”.

That night, Jongdae kissed him for the first time, they were sitting facing each other on a wooden table with Okonomiyaki* and miso soup in between- the restaurant was deserted except for the both of them and an old Japanese man sitting on a corner with a bottle of sake and a book of Sudoku. Yixing was slurping through his soup, the steam clouded the lenses of his spectacles as Jongdae leaned closer and kiss him on the lips, he was caught off guard and when his glasses cleared up the first thing he saw was Jongdae’s roguish smile.

“I wanna see the world” he remembered Jongdae saying, some time ago while they were leaning on the balcony of some hotel in Manila, post- concert adrenaline still beating in their blood stream as they look down at the city lights.

“What do you mean?” Yixing doesn’t understand, what more can Jongdae ask for when they already get to travel around for free- Europe, Asia, America- there are times when they practically live on planes.

“I mean, I want to find my home, in the truest sense of that word”, Jongdae beamed at him.

“Sounds cliché” Yixing shrugged.

Peux-tu m'aider? Pouvez-vous m'aider?

Comment vous appelez-vous*

They both snickered while poring over the French-Korean dictionary, Jongdae was lying on Yixing’s lap as they guessed the correct pronunciations of the words with too much z and s until the syllables seem to tangle together in a frenzy of anglais and moi and vouz.

“I am pretty sure we’re saying everything wrong” Yixing leaned his head farther, counting the cracks on the beige ceiling of the small hostel that they managed to get at the last minute, everyone seems to be over at Paris, as the kind French lady informed them that this is the only vacancy since it’s Valentines season (and she probably mistook them for a couple).

Jongdae got up and stretched before standing next to the floor- to- ceiling window to admire the view outside- cobblestones and sidewalk cafes silhouetted in the rising European sun. He grabbed the dictionary from Yixing’s hand and browse through the pages;

“Tu m'as tellement manqué” the words rolled hard and foreign around his tongue, Jongdae held out his hand, “Viens avec moi”.* Yixing doesn’t have the slightest idea of what he just said, but he likes the sound of it.

Using the public transportation after a long time has got to be a breath of fresh air, they shared the metro with businessmen in sharp suits and ladies with strong eyebrows and stylish trench coats, as they sat side by side, sharing earphones blasting songs from akdong musicians, admiring the view as they fly into stations and past underground lights and waiting commuters.

They found themselves knocking elbows while looking at the stunning portrait of Mona Lisa inside Louvre Museum, Jongdae struggled for words to describe the lady’s knowing smile, as he breathe in the colors and lines, finding it hard to take in that he is looking at an actual masterpiece.

They got lost around Champ Elysees before finally settling down on a restaurant where they ordered food they can barely pronounce (which also costs them a fortune). Yixing switches on his video camera, recording Jongdae while drinking wine before including himself in the frame and waving, “Here were are in Paris, freezing our asses off”.

Jongdae chuckled, “The city is so beautiful. The girls too!”

The camera shakes and blurs before going back into focus, “We miss you! Je t’aime!” they said in unison as Yixing stopped recording and sent the video to Junmyeon.

They wandered around Galeries Lafayette while buying gifts from cheaper stores: scarves, hats, useless trinkets and souvenirs. They went people watching at a nearby park- Jardin Du Luxembourg, anonymity and being in their own skin without the fear of being mobbed by fans feels like a crawling relief.

Yixing fell in love with a black Louis Vuitton coat the next day as they wander the length of luxury shops near Arc de Triomphe, he admired the fabric with the gentlest touch as he turned to Jongdae, “Take my wallet away from me before I blow off my credit card”.

Jongdae shrugged before looking at the coat’s price tag, “It's almost your birthday”.

“My birthday’s in October”.

“Hmm I’ll pay for half of it, consider this as an early gift” Jongdae gave him the most beautiful smile as he motioned for a sales lady to take the jacket off the rack for a fitting.

The night was fast approaching as they arrived in their hostel with a baguette and brown bag of cheese, ham and good enough bottle of wine. The night was lost on the both of them as they feast on the simple dinner and drink to the music of Vanessa Paradis- and somehow, despite the blur caused by too much alcohol, Yixing knew this has got to be one of the best moments of his life.

The next morning he woke up with a slightly throbbing head and Jongdae nowhere in sight. At the bedside table was a note in his messy handwriting and milk on a wine glass, “I had to flew away early, the management kept calling me saying there have been changes in the schedule, didn’t wake you up because you sleep so peacefully, I know you drink milk to ease hangover, I left some by the table. See you on the other side of the planet. Jongdae”.

Yixing drank the milk and went back to bed, closing his eyes, he can’t fight the gloomy feeling creeping up his chest, and how he is going to spend his last two days in Paris- his last two days in the most romantic city- alone.

Yixing was munching on naan and curry* inside an Indian restaurant directly outside the hotel he is staying at in California, he was halfway through the bread when a familiar figure loomed over him and sat on the chair in front of him in the small diner.

His thoughts were blank and practically covered by the spicy curry he was eating before it hits him- anger. He looked at Jongdae through narrow eyes and recalled all of the moments he appears out of nowhere and leaves- it doesn’t make sense really. It doesn’t make sense how he flies halfway through the world just to catch up with him, it doesn’t make sense how he feels the seething annoyance and anger inside him on the thought that Jongdae comes and and goes as he pleases, and who does he think he is? Leaving marks on places they have been and practically on all the memories Yixing have with these places- with Santorini and Bali and Bangkok Naples, Pnohm Penh, Hiroshima and ing Paris, and now California.

He wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin before saying, “Leave”.

His cold tone hit Jongdae hard and for a second he isn’t sure if he’s hearing the right things.

“I am not leaving” hell, he flew for almost thirteen hours and his mind is practically in a puddle of jetlag and switched time zones.

Yixing stood up and walk briskly out of the restaurant and inside the hotel lobby, only to be followed by Jongdae. They made it inside the elevator as Yixing pressed 26 and turned to him, “You’re not staying with me”.

“What is wrong with you?” he heard the annoyance in Jongdae’s voice and something inside him snaps.

“Are you for real? Why are you doing this? Does it make sense?” he screamed at him, he doesn’t mean to.

“Yixing” he wants to wipe his name off his mouth and tell him he pronounces it wrong with his Korean accent.

The elevator pings and opens at 26^th floor as Yixing stormed out, “Don’t act as if you’re not playing with me and don’t act as if you’re not going to leave me here because that’s all you ever do” he swiped his card on the door as he felt Jongdae push him on the edge of the metallic door frame.

Yixing dropped the card on the carpeted floor as he tried to make sense of what is happening- Jongdae is kissing him, hands tight on the collar of his shirt as he grazes his lips- the sensation so sudden that Yixing found himself falling backwards inside the room. His mouth is overwhelming as he felt something coil up in the pits of his stomach. He opened his eyes to see Jongdae looking at him through heavy eyelashes, hands still tight on the collars of his shirt.

“Yixing, it’s you. Don’t you get it?” Jongdae said softly.

“Wh-“

“Don’t you understand? It’s you. You’re the home I’ve been looking for.”

Yixing stares blankly as he recalled that night at some hotel in Manila, post- concert adrenaline still burning in their bloodstream as Jongdae declares he wanted to see the world and find his home. He shook his head, overwhelmed in a mess of thoughts and feelings, “You can’t stay with me, I need you to leave please”, Yixing bowed his head.

Deafening silence before Jongdae sighed and he heard the door clicked behind him.

The rush of the Lunar New Year on downtown Shanghai has always been a familiar and comforting sight for Yixing as he stood at the balcony of their ancestral house at Central Zangjiang- surrounded by family and food, the night is fast approaching its conclusion as he looked at the mammoth display of fireworks up the sky-

Yixing felt fingers curling gently through his hands before grasping it completely, and he looked over his shoulders to see Jongdae beside him, smiling as he admired the fireworks display.

“How did you-“

“Your mother let me inside of course, I came right away to find you, but not before she stuffed me with rice dumplings, sorry I took so long, I almost didn’t get a flight out of Seoul” Jongdae mumbles.

“I wasn’t really expecting you to come” Yixing said curtly.

“Oh yes you are, I can see it in your eyes” Jongdae smiled as he looked at him from head to toe- wearing red undershirt against an overly extravagant Louis Vuitton coat from Paris.

And Yixing thought, yes, he was expecting him, there’s no sense in denying it. He held his hands firmly, tightly too and smiles to himself because Jongdae feels like home- in the truest sense of the word.

A/N:

Silkie Chicken- some kind of chicken originally from China, with black feathers, blue earlobes and dark meat.

Okonomiyaki- it’s like grill it yourself Japanese pancake with savory stuff like egg, cabbage, mayonnaise, meat etc.

Peux-tu m'aider? Pouvez-vous m'aider? –Can you help me?

Comment vous appelez-vous? –What’s your name?

Tu m'as tellement manqué  –I missed you so much

Viens avec moi –Come with me

Naan- some Indian type of flat bread