Sleep Well Tonight
Sleep Well Tonight
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"Sleep well tonight, When Yixing finally gets back to the apartment, it’s way past one in the morning and the lights are all out. Heaving a weary sigh, he drops his heavy bag to the floor with a thud, groaning at the ache in his shoulder, an almost permanent embedment in his muscles. Yixing shuffles his way down the hall to the kitchen for a glass of water, all but ready to collapse with the way the heavy exhaustion is weighing down his bones. Flicking on the lights, he makes for the fridge but stops short, startled when he realizes that he’s not alone. From this angle he can only see the top of sleek black hair where Kyungsoo has his face buried in his arms on the kitchen table, hunched over in his seat in what looks like a rather uncomfortable position. He’s fast asleep. Yixing sighs half fondly half exasperatedly as he forgoes the fridge in favour of rounding the table. He keeps telling him not to wait up for him, knowing that Kyungsoo needs to wake up well before dawn breaks to get to the clinic in time. Yet every night he finds him everywhere but in bed, waiting, be it in the kitchen or the couch in the living room; and even if he doesn’t quite manage to stay awake the whole time, he waits. Looking at him silently for a moment, Yixing takes in the slow rise and fall of Kyungsoo’s back, watching the way his soft puffs of breath shift the strands of hair falling across his face, tickling at the corners of his lips. He needs a haircut, Yixing thinks as he reaches out, unable to help himself as he cards his fingers gently through Kyungsoo’s silky hair. He brushes the locks aside, leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead, effectively stirring him awake. “You’re home,” Kyungsoo’s voice is a bit rough with sleep, eyes cracked open and squinting at the bright light of the kitchen. He stretches, almost feline as he arches his back, straightening his arms and legs with a small groan. “You’re gonna screw up your back like that,” Yixing says, bee lining for the fridge again, “Why were you sitting in the dark like that?” Kyungsoo shrugs, rubbing his eyes with fisted hands. “Didn’t really need it, seemed like a waste,” he says simply; “You were out too late again.” There’s a reproachful tone to his voice, laced with a stern concern that Yixing knows all too well and he falters when bringing the water bottle to his lips. “There were two hens parties in a row tonight; they needed another set of hands to help out,” he says quietly, taking a swig and revels as the cool liquid soothes his parched throat. He’s so tired. Kyungsoo still hasn’t moved from his seat, watching Yixing in silence, lips pressed together in a line. Yixing glances up at the wall clock before turning his eyes back to the tired slope of Kyungsoo’s shoulders, “I always tell you not to wait up for me; why didn’t you just go to bed?” His question earns him a glare in return. Yixing swallows and quickly ploughs on, “Anyway, I have to go over my psych notes one more time for tomorrow’s test so…” He trails off a little uncertainly as Kyungsoo lifts himself off his seat slowly and fixates him with a hard stare. “I don’t go to bed because going to bed means my day has ended,” he starts, “and my day hasn’t ended until you’re with me, in bed. Until I make sure your stubborn is resting instead of finding yet another thing to slave over.” Yixing blinks, taken aback, “Soo–” “We’re doing fine Xing!” Kyungsoo cuts in, reaching out to grab Yixing’s hands, holding them tightly in his own, “We’re careful! We cover the rent just fine, we manage with the electric bills, we make sure not to waste too much water or light; we’re good!” Yixing makes to interject again but Kyungsoo gives him no space to get a word in, squeezing his hands a little; “There’s no need to overdo it and half kill yourself in the process, Yixing. I can’t even remember the last time you got more than 4 hours of sleep. When are you going to give yourself a break before you break?” Yixing stares at him with furrowed eyebrows before he finds his words; “It’s just- we could have more! I could give us more, to be more comfortable –” “We don’t need it!” Kyungsoo cries, “I don’t want it, not like this; we’re fine!” He stops, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Yixing’s expression twists as something lodges in his throat and Kyungsoo releases his hands to cup his face firmly, looking him straight in the eye, “My placements at the clinic finish next week, then I’ll just have morning classes as usual and I’ll have way more time on my hands, I can go back to teaching in the afternoons, just like last year – we’ll manage!” He shakes Yixing’s face a little, to punctuate his last words, urging him to look at him when Yixing’s eyes cast downwards. Once he’s holding Yixing’s gaze he starts again softly; “You’ve worked so hard, Xing. You’ve been juggling your university studies, you spend your afternoons teaching kids to dance and then you work evening shifts at the restaurant; you’ve worked so hard. And I know I’ve been completely useless with all my time taken by placements and late classes, I’m so sorry but –” he puts a finger to Yixing’s lips when he tries to object, eyeing him and Yixing clamps his mouth shut to let him finish; “I can pitch in now, I can do my share for us, the part that I’m supposed to do. Just like we’d planned when we moved in together. We’ll both do our parts and we’ll get by; as well as we always have. We just need to find a balance, okay? I’m so sorry that I haven’t been able to do much other than save up and watch our resources but I can’t let you keep doing this, it’ll kill you! You don’t need to do so much – I’m here, we’re both in this, so let me help.” Yixing releases a long exhale, shoulders sagging, his face still cupped in Kyungsoo’s hands and Kyungsoo knows he’s gotten through to him. “I’m sor –” “Don’t!” Kyungsoo shakes his head, “Don’t apologize to me like you’ve done something wrong.” He runs his thumbs along the crest of Yixing’s cheekbones, just along the edges of the dark shadows below his eyes. Kyungsoo draws him in, leaning up on his tiptoes to meet his lips in a soft, chaste kiss. Yixing sighs into it, pressing back and bringing a hand up to wrap his fingers around one of Kyungsoo’s wrists. “Now come on,” Kyungsoo says when he pulls away, “You’re going to have a nice, long shower and then we’re going to bed and you’re going to rest.” Yixing nods absent mindedly, already following Kyungsoo to the bathroom before he stops in his tracks when it hits him. “, wait, my psych notes,” he looks around frantically, realizing that he doesn’t even know where he left them when he dashed out of the house that morning, “I gotta- Soo I need to go over them, my test tomorrow – ” “Yixing –” “I promise I’ll just go over them once and then I’ll come straight to bed, please I just –” he cringes at the crestfallen look on Kyungsoo’s face and dammit where are those notes. He runs back to the kitchen, and then to their bedroom rummaging through his bag, in between cushions, on the table but the search comes up fruitless. He casts a desperate look at the clock and curses at the late hour, running out of time. Sighing in frustration, Yixing walks back to the bathroom where Kyungsoo is still standing. He parts his lips, ready to say something but Yixing stops him this time with a tired smile. “You’re right, it’s fine. I’ll get cleaned up and we’ll go to bed okay?” Kyungsoo blinks and closes his mouth, stepping aside to let Yixing go in. He follows him inside though, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. “Come to watch?” Yixing chuckles, tiredly shrugging off the hoodie from his shoulders. He’s starting to feel the exhausted ache right down to his bones now. “That,” Kyungsoo suppresses a smile, “and to listen to your explanation about the treatment for dissociative disorders.” Yixing blinks, gawping at Kyungsoo. “What?” Kyungsoo pushes himself off the door and grabs onto the front of Yixing’s shirt, helping him pop the buttons. “Go on; you studied these didn’t you?” Kyungsoo tsks, pointedly staring at Yixing’s shirt, working on tugging the sleeves off his arms, “so tell me: what’s the treatment for dissociative identity disorder?” “Why– how are you–” Yixing struggles with words, staring at Kyungsoo in utter confusion. Heaving a dramatic long suffering sigh, Kyungsoo sets his hands on Yixing’s chest, playing with a loose thread on his black tank top. “I knew you’d insist on going over your psychology notes again,” he comments, tone sounding very matter of fact, “even though we both know you have them memorized back and forth, just like you always do.” Kyungsoo slides his hands over to wrap around Yixing’s arms, squeezing lightly; “And I knew you wouldn’t even think to relax a bit even though you look like you’re about to keel over. So I thought I should find a way to make you do both.” He pulls away and to start rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as Yixing stares at him, still nonplussed. “And how would you– oh my god.” Kyungsoo’s arms are covered in black writing, his skin completely marked with words inked in with marker. “Flashcards!” Kyungsoo waves his arms at Yixing, “Well, sort of. Your handwriting is terrible by the way, I don’t know how you even mprghh!” He’s cut off when Yixing captures his lips with his own, taking his breath away in a long, deep kiss. They’re both a bit breathless when they break off and Yixing pulls him in again to wrap his arms around him tightly, ignoring Kyungsoo’s squawk. “You’re adorable,” he whispers with a small laugh. “I can’t believe you actually did this for me,” he pulls back to rake his eyes over Kyungsoo’s face, awed, almost unable to believe that a person like him actually exists and is here in his arms. He chuckles at Kyungsoo’s grumbling, noticing the way the tips of his ears have gone red. “Why didn’t you say something?” he asks, releasing Kyungsoo from his hold to look at him again, “When I was looking for the notes…” “Well I was going to but you were too busy kicking yourself over it to let me get a word in,” Kyungsoo berates him, quirking an eyebrow. He tugs insistently at the hem of Yixing’s tank, “Too many clothes, too little showering come on, I didn’t pen these onto my skin with permanent marker for nothing, you know.” “Permanent?” Yixing asks, “Why’d you use permanent? Why’d you even use your arm at all?” Kyungsoo pointedly removes his shirt and works on his belt next, “Well I’m coming in with you, aren’t I?” Yixing strips as quickly as his aching limbs will let him, throwing his clothes aside and joining Kyungsoo in the shower under the cold spray. He shivers as Kyungsoo tweaks the knobs to make it warmer, but appreciates the cool, soothing feeling on his muscles. “So tell me about the treatment for DID, Xing,” Kyungsoo says, smacking Yixing’s hand away from the soap as he takes it himself with a look that says ‘let me’. Yixing complies and begins to explain, letting his eyes slip shut as he enjoys the hot water sliding down his skin and the weight of Kyungsoo’s soft hands massaging the soap all over him. Kyungsoo asks him question after question based on the scribbles on his arms, kneading his hands into the small of Yixing’s back, rubbing circles into his waist, making his way up to press firm fingers right below his shoulder blades. Yixing answer them all, relaying everything he’s studied, his words occasionally interrupted by a groan or a sigh when Kyungsoo finds a particularly tense knot in his muscles. He nearly falls asleep when Kyungsoo slathers shampoo into his hair, massaging his head with gentle fingers and answers another three questions correctly while Kyungsoo rinses his hair. They stay there under the spray though, with Kyungsoo’s hands still mapping out Yixing’s body, asking and asking, pressing his lips to a different place on Yixing’s skin for every right answer he gets until there’s nothing left to ask. His body feels like jelly, a pleasant, heavy numbness in his muscles replacing the throbbing ache but Yixing makes for the soap in Kyungsoo’s hand anyway to return the favour. He lathers him up, running his hands down Kyungsoo’s arms and up his chest, gathering foam and Kyungsoo watches him silently. After rinsing off the suds, Yixing nudges Kyungsoo back, pressing him against the shower wall to claim his lips again, wetly along the seam to flick his tongue into his mouth. Kyungsoo hums low in his throat, curling his tongue and angling his head to deepen the kiss. Their lips slip and slide smoothly against each other, kissing languidly as the shower spray trickles down their faces. Yixing keens when Kyungsoo nibbles on his lower lip, taking it between his own to gently before back into Yixing mouth, the heat dizzying as their lungs burn. They finally break off, chests heaving and panting for air. Yixing doesn’t move from where he’s pressed up against Kyungsoo, only reaching out an arm to turn off the shower. He looks down at Kyungsoo for a moment before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” he whispers against his skin. Kyungsoo reaches up to push Yixing’s wet bangs out of his eyes before patting him twice on the cheek. “See, now was that so hard?” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a pleased smile. Yixing laughs, pulling away to step out of the shower, tugging Kyungsoo out with him. They make quick work of toweling themselves off, both almost half asleep on their feet now, eager to get to bed. Kyungsoo tugs on his sleeping clothes and crawls under the sheets, waiting for Yixing to join him. He pats the side of the bed next to him invitingly and Yixing grins as he climbs in next to him, throwing the towel he’d been drying his hair with off his shoulders. He nearly falls asleep the moment his head touches the soft pillow but he forces himself to stay awake, just a little longer. He feels an arm snaking around his waist as Kyungsoo tugs him closer and he smiles sleepily. “What are you going to do about your arms?” he murmurs. “It'll wash away eventually,” Kyungsoo shrugs. Yixing hums, feeling himself drifting off. One last thing though. “Hey, Soo?” “Me too, Yixing.” ROARS I JUST FOUND THIS |
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