All Yifan could smell upon entering his bedroom was alcohol and weed. He hadn't even smoked that night, and his vision wasn't as bleary as it could have been, but the aftermath of the party lingered on his body long after he had left the venue. He pulled off his jeans, the black denim sticking to his legs and bunching up around his ankles, and at that point in the night, he would have liked to pass out in bed just like that. He finally managed to untangle his pants from his long legs, and chucked the clothing in the general direction of the hamper. He clambered into bed, not bothering to remove his shirt or change his boxers, or even take the earrings out of his ears. The thin white sheets encased him immediately, and the pillow beneath his head smelled like shampoo that was all too familiar.

When was the last time he and Yixing laid in that bed together?

He swore he could see an indent on the pillow case where Yixing could lay his sleeping head, but once he sat up in the bed to get a better view, it was smooth beneath his gaze and hand.

The smell of coconut and lavender was one that Yifan missed immensely. He missed burying his hair in damp, black locks and breathing in shampoo of his beloved. He missed skirting his hands along sharp hip bones until they fell down to strong, yet soft thighs. He missed small and thin fingers traveling blindly to grab at his face, and he missed the smiling face that would meet him once Yixing finally decided to roll over on the bed.

With a heavy sigh, Yifan collapsed down against the soft mattress, his body bouncing once or twice afterwards.

All he could ask for was Yixing in his arms.

 

One year before, Yifan had grabbed Yixing’s hand without a word and uncurled his pretty fingers, placing the key to the apartment in the palm of his hand without a single word. When Yixing looked up at him, his head tilted and his thin brows raised under his bangs, Yifan merely nodded his head.

They didn’t share a single word, but they both knew what it meant.

You’re free to come and go. Hopefully we can see each other in passing.

They had seen each other twice in that apartment after Yifan had handed over the second key to his boyfriend. One knight was spent with Yixing crying in the elder’s arms, his heart numb and his body carrying him there after such a difficult day. The younger didn’t tell Yifan anything; he only sobbed that he wanted Yifan, and only him.

The second time they had found each other in the shared apartment was on their anniversary, when most of the night was spent in the bedroom. They never favored one memory over the other, because every single time they were together was precious to them.

 

Yifan immediately regretted being so lazy about going to bed upon waking up, especially when the blistering sun was shining directly into his sleep-covered eyes from between the opened blinds. He nearly swatted at the invisible rays of light, but his arm was heavier than he expected sleep to make it.

When his eyes finally opened themselves and the sun wasn’t so scalding, he found a sleeping beauty with his head on his shoulder, his plump lips open with a silent snore and his curly black hair a mess atop his head.

Yifan wished he wasn’t so easily affected by Yixing.

Yifan wished he didn’t feel like he could cry any second whenever he saw Yixing after being away for so long.

He could wish for so much now that his whole world was in his arms, sleeping soundly.

Yifan wrapped his free arm around the younger, pulling him closer and resting his chin on top of his head. The gesture made Yixing sigh, his face buried deeper in Yifan’s chest and his hands coming to hold Yifan as well.

 

Six months before, Yifan had one knee in cold sand, a blue velvet box in his palm and tears in his eyes that matched Yixing’s. They were tears of promise when Yixing couldn’t say yes. They were tears of love when Yixing wanted nothing but to say yes and let Yifan sweep him off his feet. They were tears that told Yifan had they been different people, they could wear those bands around their fingers and be happy until they die.

We can be married in the future. This is a promise.

Yifan had asked Yixing to marry him four times after the real proposal he had planned. It was never again with a ring, but his words being whispered or moaned or cried to Yixing. Once it was after Yixing cried in his arms. During a static-filled phone call in a crowded airport. Panting in bed with the younger man hovering over him. Laying together in bed on a warm morning with the sun attacking their peace.

Yixing always stayed quiet, and Yifan was always content with it. They both knew they didn’t need a signed paper to be together through thick and thin.

 

Yifan traced around Yixing’s lips, never touching the pink skin that he would rather kiss. His fingertip lingered on the mole below them, before he leaned forward and peck the plump flesh. Every kiss he shared with Yixing sent a rush through his body, like liquid gold ran through the younger’s veins and infected Yifan with the same heavenly feeling. Every kiss was more than a kiss. Every kiss was a promise.

It was a promise to never make the other cry. They had shed too many tears for the other before.

It was a promise to never see another person in the same light as the other. There was no room for jealousy when they could only ever love each other.

It was a promise for the future. They would stay together through it all. They would never let their careers stand above their love.

Yixing opened his eyes, a smile on his lips even before his met gazes with his lover. It was like watching an angel, and Yifan had to lean down for another kiss.

Yifan kissed down his neck, stopping where the blanket was pulled up to collar bones before making his way up the other side. When he reached Yixing’s ear, and after he kissed the earring that still sat there, he whispered softly, “Will you marry me, Yixing?”

This time, though, the promise was different. It was no longer a silent vow, promising Yixing to Yifan; it was a single word that made Yifan feel tears rush down to his chin.

“Yes.”