The skin on Jongdae’s shoulder tingles through the thin fabric of his uniform button-up every time it brushes with Yixing’s. They’re walking side-by-side, so close, Jongdae reaches out for Yixing’s hand. Yixing stops, letting Jongdae keep walking until their intertwined hands are the only thread linking them together.

“It’s okay,”  Jongdae reassures him, hoping the unsure look in his eyes will fade away, “there’s nobody around.” Yixing nods and catches up, increasing his grip on Jongdae’s hand as if it were the string of a balloon that might fly away.

They return to their previous stride and take pleasure in the feeling of the early spring breeze tousling their hair. Instead of spending time after school on their rooftop like they usually do, Jongdae suggested going out for ice cream.

“Like a date?” Yixing had asked.

“Yeah, a date.” Jongdae replied. Although they had been something more than friends for a good while, they had never gone on an official date, opting instead for hanging on the rooftop or studying at Jongdae’s house.

“Okay, yeah,” Yixing said, “that’d be fun.”

When they reach the ice cream parlor, they pool together their meager allowances and buy one sundae to share. They’re the only people in the store, aside from the bored-looking employee idly flipping through a fashion magazine. They sit at a table in the back, and both take turns stealing bites, until Jongdae gets an idea. He scoops up a spoonful and hovers it in front of Yixing’s mouth. Yixing raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Come on,” Jongdae whines. Yixing rolls his eyes, but smiles and complies, letting Jongdae feed him. Jongdae loads up another and aims for Yixing’s mouth, but laughs when he miraculously ends up getting it on his nose. Yixing looks at him cluelessly while he wipes it off with a spare napkin, still laughing. Soon enough, Yixing is laughing, too.
When they finish they walk to Jongdae’s house. Jongdae’s parents are quite the workaholics, off on business trips and the like, so he usually gets the house to himself. But, when Yixing is there the quiet emptiness Jongdae typically suffocates in is dispelled by sounds of pencils on paper, of music and laughter. Yixing hauls Jongdae’s guitar out of his room, unlatches the case, and fingers some chords. Jongdae hums along until he notices his stomach humming, too.

“Hungry?” Yixing asks.

“Starving,” Jongdae laughs. Yixing takes the time to put Jongdae’s guitar away and heads to the kitchen. Ever since that one day Jongdae admitted he usually lived off frozen meals and instant ramen, Yixing makes dinner when he comes over. Jongdae watches Yixing cook, claiming it’s to steal his techniques, but he really just likes to see the serious, concentrated face Yixing always makes when chopping ingredients. They sit at the kitchen table and Yixing serves them each a heaping portion. Jongdae laughs, watching Yixing from across the table.

“It’s like we’re a married couple,” he teases. Yixing’s face reddens and he avoids Jongdae’s gaze, fumbling with a grain of rice between his chopsticks.

“I wish I could marry you,” he mumbles and now it’s Jongdae’s turn to blush.

“We’re not even out of high school yet!” he objects, but he squeezes Yixing’s hand across the table because even though they could never legally marry, he knows that if Yixing ever proposed, he would probably say yes.

Yixing’s aunt expects him home by nine, so Jongdae walks him home. When they reach the steps, Yixing glances around to check for passersby, and when the coast is clear, he gives Jongdae a quick peck on the cheek, waves goodbye, and shuffles into the house.

Jongdae understands Yixing’s caution when it comes to displaying affection public. Yixing is afraid he’ll lose Jongdae if he were to show too much. And it’s hard for Yixing. For him, actions speak louder than words. A thankful smile here or there, a gentle tug at the wrist. Having to hold most of this back hurts both of them, but, no matter how many times they escape to the roof, or lock the door, or wait for an entire restaurant to empty, Yixing is always hesitant. So they keep it to subtle touches in public, and save the rest for Jongdae’s House.

Jongdae stands waiting at the steps until he sees Yixing wave from his bedroom window. He waves back before making his way back to his house. Jongdae has only visited Yixing’s house about three times in the months he’s known him. Yixing lives with his aunt above the restaurant she owns. They’re always at Jongdae’s because Yixing claims it’s hard to study with all the noise form below. Jongdae thinks it’s because Yixing is scared of what his aunt might think. But every time Jongdae has been over she was jovial and welcoming, climbing up and down stairs with heaping plates of fried rice.

The next time he goes there, Yixing’s aunt has him sit down for tea while Yixing changes out of his uniform. While he’s absentmindedly sipping tea and admiring the new lantern light fixtures, she speaks up.

“Take good care of Yixing,” Jongdae’s head snaps down to meet her gaze, “you’re more than friends, aren’t you?” Bewildered, Jongdae gapes, barely keeping from stammering.

“Uh, I-”

“Don’t think I don’t see the way you two look at each other. I swear, he has eyes for no one else.” Jongdae feels his face grow warm. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Jongdae nods. “Yixing was always such a sweet boy. But he had a very hard time last year- did he tell you?” Jongdae nods again. “I’m trying my best to support him, to make up for his parents. But, I think what he needs the most right now is you.” Jongdae nods solemnly. Yixing’s aunt brings her teacup to her lips, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. She slams the cup on the counter with a swift “chink!”. “There,” she says with a smile, “you have my blessing. Now, go tell Xingxing he can stop avoiding his aunt.” Jongdae laughs.

“Of course,” he replies. He hops off his stool and rushes to the staircase and steps up the stairs. he goes down the narrow hallway until he reaches Yixing’s room, the second door on the left. He knocks lightly on the door and enters when he hears a muffled “come in”. Yixing has his shirt on halfway over his head when Jongdae comes in, and Jongdae’s glad it’s covering Yixing’s eyes for the moment- maybe he didn’t see him blush.

“What’s up?” Yixing asks as he finally pulls his shirt down, “I was going to come down in a minute.”

“I know,” Jongdae says, “Your aunt wanted me to tell you to stop avoiding her.” Yixing furrows his brow with a frown.

“I’m not avoiding her.” Jongdae slaps his arm playfully.

“You totally are.” Yixing’s frown evolves into a full-on pout, and Jongdae laughs. “Let’s go downstairs and have some tea.” Jongdae grabs Yixing’s hand and starts pulling him towards the doorway. As he’s dragging him down the hallway, Jongdae feels Yixing pulling away.

“Wait, Chenchen…” Yixing whimpers. Jongdae stops. He turns to look Yixing in the eyes and sees his fear, but he tightens his grip.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine.” Jongdae makes sure to keep his grip gentle, but firm, and tugs Yixing down the stairs. He brings him over to sit on one of the bar stools. Yixing’s aunt shuffle over and pours them each a new cup tea. She leans over the counter, cradling her own cup in her hands with a sparkle in her eyes.

“So tell me, which one of you confessed first?” Yixing nearly chokes on his tea.

“Aunt!” Yixing’s eyes widen and shift in Jongdae’s direction. Yixing’s aunt scoffs.

“I know what you’re thinking, but he didn’t tell me anything. I figured it all out myself. Your Aunt’s not that blind, you know.” Jongdae gives Yixing’s hand a squeeze, leans over and presses his face into Yixing’s neck.

“I told you it would be fine,” he whispers.

“You don’t have to hide anymore, Xingxing. But, I’d be more careful when there are customers around, yes?” his aunt says with a wink. Yixing sighs in relief.

“Thank you.” Jongdae removes his head from its rest on Yixing’s shoulder and smiles at him. Yixing smiles back.

“But, you have to tell your Aunt all the details, straight from the beginning.” Yixing and Jongdae look at each other, unsure of where to start. Jongdae looks away first.

“Well, Yixing confessed to me first,” he admits. Yixing’s face turns red.

“It just came out. I didn’t plan on it…”

After that one visit, Jongdae comes to the restaurant more often, even helping out when it gets busy. The days fly by, and it soon comes time for graduation. They pile into the gymnasium with the rest of their classmates, but even once they get to their seats, Yixing can’t stop jittering with excitement, and Jongdae finds it utterly adorable.

“I did it,” Yixing whispers. Jongdae takes his hand.

“You did it,” he says, smile spreading across his face.

“We did it,” Yixing says, his own grin growing wider. Sitting next to each other, they hold hands until each of their names are called. They walk across the stage, shake hands with the headmaster, and receive their diplomas. When the ceremony is over they shove through the crowd to where Yixing’s aunt is seated, in the area reserved for relatives and guests. She gathers them both in her arms for a hug, Yixing starts bawling, and Jongdae couldn’t care less that his parents didn’t show. He has all the family he needs right here.

Hello hello!! Thank you very much for reading! Like I said, this is complete fluff. (SO much laughing, smiling, and hand holding, but I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY ;0; ) I actually had more planned for this, but stopped here because it felt proper. I could add the rest in another part, though, so tell me what you think. And to all my subscribers, thank you especially, you guys keep me writing, haha. Love you!!!