He think it's strange. He thinks it's completely abnormal of him to turn into a mess whenever Jongin looks at him after finishing his dance... He curses himself for getting tongue-tied whenever Jongin asks him something... And he hates Kim Jongin for having such effect on him, for bringing him into the state he is now. 

Kneeling in the practice room floor, Yixing thinks he has lost it completely...

Why else has he switched the quick dance music to Yann Tieser and locked the door? Why else is he running his hands over his body, reaching where Jongin's hot stare had burned his skin.

He thinks of the golden skin and the long limbs, sometimes so close that he forgets to breath and falls even deeper into his silent insanity.

He imagines long fingers on his back, hot breath on his neck... Pulling him towards the darkness that reflects in Jongin's eyes. And he can't stop the silent whispers that call out the younger's name ever so often.

Even when he grips his hands to stop himself from doing something so lewd and disgusting, he feels the need to be touched by those hot fingers that sometimes grip his arms when he has fallen under the spell and dozes off in front of Jongin... Kai...

And he feels so dirty when the pleasure hits him just from thinking about the younger's hands around him....

And while crying there - lonely, dirty and broken - he fails to notice the shilouette slipping away from the matted class door. And he thinks he's definetly lost it.

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Just a drabble to get my inspiration back.