ice cream (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bluedreaming) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writetomyheart2015-10-07 03:51 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2015-10-07 03:51 pm
Entry tags:
[team sonic] simple
First words from Magic Trick.
Title from Simple by K'naan.
Written for the xuanjoo ficfest.
"You could do that," Sungjoo says, chuckling as he browses through the local community centre catalogue of courses being offered this season. Yixuan looks up from his phone, where he's glancing through work emails; sorting the general inquiries from the emails he needs to get back to right away. Wenhan has been on holiday for the past week, so things are especially hectic, and it's hard to take his mind off work, but he sets his phone down and peers at the paper.
"Finger painting?" he asks, expression sceptical. "Isn't that for, I don't know, three year olds?" He glances at the details under the header. Ages 3 to 7, parental accompaniment optional
Sungjoo just elbows him, "it sounds therapeutic!" he protests. "Don't think I haven't noticed how stressed you've been lately." And it's true. All of a sudden, Yixuan feels bad. It's not his fault, but he's been so tired lately, so busy, that it's all he can do to cope with the work piling up on his desk, the emails flooding into his mailbox, the phone calls and inquiries and dealing with frustrated customers and sometimes he's surprised he hasn't lost it completely, running down the hallway screaming instead of just taking a deep breath, stretching out his back and diving back in.
He's barely seen Sungjoo in the last month, only snatches and glances and sleepy phone calls as they fall asleep in separate beds; today is the first time in too long that they've had the chance to spend a few hours together and here he is, anxiously glancing at his emails again, while Sungjoo just smiles and tries to make him laugh, hint at how worried he is without pressuring Yixuan.
I don't deserve you, Yixuan thinks, not for the first time, looking at the bags under Sungjoo's eyes, contrasting with the smile on his face, eyes crinkling as he laughs at all the strange lessons being offered.
"Come over here," Yixuan says, and reaches over to pull a surprised Sungjoo into his lap; Sungjoo gives a surprised, "Oof," as he lands, fitting perfectly between Yixuan's legs. There's a muffled clatter as his phone falls to the ground, and Sungjoo starts to lean over to search for it, but Yixuan stops him with a kiss pressed to the nape of his neck, sighing as Sungjoo settles back into the curve of his arms, head resting against his shoulder.
"I've missed you," Sungjoo whispers, and Yixuan can't help wondering how things keep getting so complicated, when they're really so simple.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs into the warm hollow where Sungjoo's neck meets his chin, as his teeth nibble along the skin and Sungjoo melts into his arms, as though he's been so wound up, so tense, that a soft touch is enough to pull him apart.
"It's okay," Sungjoo says, his voice slightly breathy before he twists in Yixuan's lap, swinging his legs around until they're pressed, chest to chest and Sungjoo can wrap his arms around Yixuan and just hold him close.
It's so simple.
There's a soft buzz from the floor; Yixuan getting another email probably, but he doesn't pay it any attention, lips warm as he works his way down Sungjoo's neck, drinking in the salt on his skin, the sound of his sighs. This is more important.
Title from Simple by K'naan.
Written for the xuanjoo ficfest.
"You could do that," Sungjoo says, chuckling as he browses through the local community centre catalogue of courses being offered this season. Yixuan looks up from his phone, where he's glancing through work emails; sorting the general inquiries from the emails he needs to get back to right away. Wenhan has been on holiday for the past week, so things are especially hectic, and it's hard to take his mind off work, but he sets his phone down and peers at the paper.
"Finger painting?" he asks, expression sceptical. "Isn't that for, I don't know, three year olds?" He glances at the details under the header. Ages 3 to 7, parental accompaniment optional
Sungjoo just elbows him, "it sounds therapeutic!" he protests. "Don't think I haven't noticed how stressed you've been lately." And it's true. All of a sudden, Yixuan feels bad. It's not his fault, but he's been so tired lately, so busy, that it's all he can do to cope with the work piling up on his desk, the emails flooding into his mailbox, the phone calls and inquiries and dealing with frustrated customers and sometimes he's surprised he hasn't lost it completely, running down the hallway screaming instead of just taking a deep breath, stretching out his back and diving back in.
He's barely seen Sungjoo in the last month, only snatches and glances and sleepy phone calls as they fall asleep in separate beds; today is the first time in too long that they've had the chance to spend a few hours together and here he is, anxiously glancing at his emails again, while Sungjoo just smiles and tries to make him laugh, hint at how worried he is without pressuring Yixuan.
I don't deserve you, Yixuan thinks, not for the first time, looking at the bags under Sungjoo's eyes, contrasting with the smile on his face, eyes crinkling as he laughs at all the strange lessons being offered.
"Come over here," Yixuan says, and reaches over to pull a surprised Sungjoo into his lap; Sungjoo gives a surprised, "Oof," as he lands, fitting perfectly between Yixuan's legs. There's a muffled clatter as his phone falls to the ground, and Sungjoo starts to lean over to search for it, but Yixuan stops him with a kiss pressed to the nape of his neck, sighing as Sungjoo settles back into the curve of his arms, head resting against his shoulder.
"I've missed you," Sungjoo whispers, and Yixuan can't help wondering how things keep getting so complicated, when they're really so simple.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs into the warm hollow where Sungjoo's neck meets his chin, as his teeth nibble along the skin and Sungjoo melts into his arms, as though he's been so wound up, so tense, that a soft touch is enough to pull him apart.
"It's okay," Sungjoo says, his voice slightly breathy before he twists in Yixuan's lap, swinging his legs around until they're pressed, chest to chest and Sungjoo can wrap his arms around Yixuan and just hold him close.
It's so simple.
There's a soft buzz from the floor; Yixuan getting another email probably, but he doesn't pay it any attention, lips warm as he works his way down Sungjoo's neck, drinking in the salt on his skin, the sound of his sighs. This is more important.