lu han lies with his head on yixing’s leg, face turned to press against the curve of yixing's thigh where it meets his hips. yixing is humming softly, fingers sliding through lu han’s damp hair, and the touch soothes the pain lu han feels pressing in at the edges of his mind.

they’ve been sitting like this for nearly 20 minutes now, when lu han had appeared in the doorway of their shared room, hair still wet from his shower. yixing could feel the jagged edges of his heart, points of sorrow and anger and jealousy and pain that grow sharper and sharper with each passing day, and lu han didn’t need to say anything to him before yixing was reaching out for him, both spiritually and physically. everything about yixing is warm, and soft, and lu han curls his hand in the cotton of yixing’s shirt.

where lu han is hot, flickers of red and orange, emotional at best and irrational and chaotic at worst, yixing is muted shades of blue greys that slip in between the cracks of broken souls and settle there like the first snowfall of winter.

lu han sighs, presses his nose against the bare skin at yixing’s hip and breathes slowly. yixing’s fingers trail down his neck and settle at the top of lu han’s spine, drawing absentminded chinese characters against the bones.

"when are you going to tell him?"

in another world, he and yixing could have been soulmates.

"never."

he hears yixing laugh above him, lighting the space around them, and lu han shifts onto his back to watch as the waves dissipate into the air.

yixing’s fingertips skate over the curves of lu han’s face, down the bridge of his nose and across the dark skin under his eyes, the same way he has since they were trainees and lu han realized that yixing was special in a way no one else understood.

across the hall, there’s a crash and jongdae yells, followed shortly by minseok’s loud hiccuping laughter. lu han aches at the sound, feels himself flicker sharply, an almost physical pain shooting down the arm closest to the door. it burns in his chest and he gasps, can’t catch his breath until there’s a mouth against his and fingers at his temple, pressed right into the pressure points.

"breathe, lu han," yixing murmurs, nudges his nose against the side of lu han’s and leans their foreheads together.

it’s a few painfully silent seconds where lu han is still, and then his breath rushes out of him in a sob and he goes limp, clutches onto yixing’s back. he’s shaking, fingernails digging into the cotton of yixing’s sweater, and yixing steadies him with another kiss. lu han presses up into yixing, who’s somehow got him pinned to the bed now, knees on either side of lu han’s bony hips.

"i’m sorry," lu han says quietly, after a few moments of just breathing into yixing’s mouth, breath still stuttering on the inhale, and he lets himself reach out to curl, tepid and sad, into the hole in yixing’s chest. he doesn’t quite fit, not enough space and edges that don’t align, but he slides a hand into yixing’s hair and pulls him back down anyway.

yixing goes easily, opens himself up to allow lu han to bury into his neck and his soul, and lu han is so grateful to have him.

(it isn’t enough, it’ll never be enough, yixing will never be enough, yixing isn’t right, but lu han pushes those thoughts away, ignores the way he can feel minseok’s amusement from across the dorm, and hewants.)

"i love him."

the words are barely audible, muttered into the curve of yixing’s shoulder, and lu han feels no better for saying them.

"i know."