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writetomyheart2015-03-06 12:16 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2015-03-06 12:16 pm
Entry tags:
[team sonic] you're with me
Starting words from here.
Title from Ásgeir's Going Home.
Willing to help out as usual, Yifan jumps up to clear the table, patting Jongin comfortingly on the shoulder as he passes by with the dirty plates.
"You just rest," he smiles, and busies himself cheerfully with hot water and soap suds. Jongin is exhausted, his ankles are swollen and he knows he insisted on staying at work till a week before his due date but now at seven months he's starting to secretly wish he'd been less obstinate. He lets himself sigh, quitely, as the plates clatter faintly in the sink, the gentle music of domesticity. I love you so much.
There's a damp hand across his forehead, Jongin's eyes flutter open in surprise — I fell asleep? he's not awake enough to ask, but Yifan is frowning at him in concern, before he reaches an arm down to hook under Jongin's knees and hefts him up into his arms.
"You have a fever," he says, landing a cool kiss on Jongin's forehead, and wow, I guess I do feel kind of warm, he lets himself rest his head against the soft cotton of his husband's t-shirt, lulled by the steady beating of Yifan's heart.
Jongin is half-dozing again by the time Yifan reaches the bedroom, setting him down, propped up against the small mountain of feather pillows piled against the headboard, and gently removing his jeans and shirt before tucking him under a sheet. Jongin doesn't miss the worried furrow of Yifan's brow as he turns away, maybe, maybe I should take a break, he thinks, when Yifan comes back with a damp cloth to lay on his forehead.
"I don't like seeing you so tired," Yifan murmers into Jongin's ear as he lies down on top of the sheet and snuggles Jongin into his arms. "I know you want to finish out your projects but I'm really worried about you." There's a soft fluttering, the baby seems to agree, and Jongin guides Yifan's hand so he can feel it too. Yifan's happy sigh is the best sound in the world.
"Okay," Jongin says quietly, head tucked against Yifan's chest. "I think I'm ready to let it go."
Yifan doesn't say thank you out loud, he doesn't have to. The stars in his eyes are words enough.
Title from Ásgeir's Going Home.
Willing to help out as usual, Yifan jumps up to clear the table, patting Jongin comfortingly on the shoulder as he passes by with the dirty plates.
"You just rest," he smiles, and busies himself cheerfully with hot water and soap suds. Jongin is exhausted, his ankles are swollen and he knows he insisted on staying at work till a week before his due date but now at seven months he's starting to secretly wish he'd been less obstinate. He lets himself sigh, quitely, as the plates clatter faintly in the sink, the gentle music of domesticity. I love you so much.
There's a damp hand across his forehead, Jongin's eyes flutter open in surprise — I fell asleep? he's not awake enough to ask, but Yifan is frowning at him in concern, before he reaches an arm down to hook under Jongin's knees and hefts him up into his arms.
"You have a fever," he says, landing a cool kiss on Jongin's forehead, and wow, I guess I do feel kind of warm, he lets himself rest his head against the soft cotton of his husband's t-shirt, lulled by the steady beating of Yifan's heart.
Jongin is half-dozing again by the time Yifan reaches the bedroom, setting him down, propped up against the small mountain of feather pillows piled against the headboard, and gently removing his jeans and shirt before tucking him under a sheet. Jongin doesn't miss the worried furrow of Yifan's brow as he turns away, maybe, maybe I should take a break, he thinks, when Yifan comes back with a damp cloth to lay on his forehead.
"I don't like seeing you so tired," Yifan murmers into Jongin's ear as he lies down on top of the sheet and snuggles Jongin into his arms. "I know you want to finish out your projects but I'm really worried about you." There's a soft fluttering, the baby seems to agree, and Jongin guides Yifan's hand so he can feel it too. Yifan's happy sigh is the best sound in the world.
"Okay," Jongin says quietly, head tucked against Yifan's chest. "I think I'm ready to let it go."
Yifan doesn't say thank you out loud, he doesn't have to. The stars in his eyes are words enough.