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even in aus where he has his tongue, nonverbal song lan is, very good
i just think.
xue yang stomping into their shared apartment with a black eye and split knuckles. he's not expecting song lan to be home, let alone to look up when he comes in.
xue yang stomping into their shared apartment with a black eye and split knuckles. he's not expecting song lan to be home, let alone to look up when he comes in.
but song lan is home, at their little card table with a book and a cup of tea. and he does look up when xue yang slams the door shut, gaze cold.
he always looks so fucking cold and xue yang can never guess what hes fucking thinking--
he always looks so fucking cold and xue yang can never guess what hes fucking thinking--
"what the fuck are you looking at?" xue yang spits at him.
song lan stands, setting his book side. xue yang tries to step around him but song lan catches his wrist, pulling him close.
song lan stands, setting his book side. xue yang tries to step around him but song lan catches his wrist, pulling him close.
'what happened?" he more-or-less signs. he wont let go of xue yang.
"nothing."
song lan makes a sound that might be disapointment or annoyance. maybe concern. xue yang tries to pull back but song lan tightens his grip.
"nothing."
song lan makes a sound that might be disapointment or annoyance. maybe concern. xue yang tries to pull back but song lan tightens his grip.
xue yang is in pain. he aches all over. theres dirt in his mouth. he just wants to shower and to crawl into bed and hide in the dark until he-- stops. feeling. anything.
song lan pulls him into the bathroom instead.
song lan pulls him into the bathroom instead.
the antiseptic stings. xue yang makes himself hold still, staring at a point over song lan's shoulder. he allows himself to be manhandled.
"use your words," xue yang says, when song lan forces his chin up with two fingers.
"use your words," xue yang says, when song lan forces his chin up with two fingers.
the slap is unexpected, but welcome, more welcome than the rough fingers spreading ointment over his cheekbone moments later.
theres something about the quiet of song lan, the sure way he moves, the muscle moving beneath his skin.
xue yang tries to stand up just so song lan will force him back down. his hands--
xue yang tries to stand up just so song lan will force him back down. his hands--
the next slap is just as good at the first, pain becoming heat radiating across xue yang's skin. he moans into it, cant help himself. song lan huffs a sound that might be a laugh.
song lan cradles xue yang's jaw in one hand and kisses him open-mouthed, his tongue slick and hot against xue yang's.
it's-- too much, after the day xue yang has had. he screws his eyes shut and tries to focus on breathing evenly as song lan claims him, kisses him stupid.
it's-- too much, after the day xue yang has had. he screws his eyes shut and tries to focus on breathing evenly as song lan claims him, kisses him stupid.
"come to bed," song lan signs, pulling away.
"make me," xue yang says.
so song lan does, hooking one arm under xue yang's legs, the other around his shoulder. he carries him into xue yang's bedroom and, still holding him, crawls into xue yang's bed.
it jostles xue yang's aching ribs but xue yang tangles his fingers in song lan's shirt, his grip so tight he can feel the fabric start to give. he wonders if song lan would hit him again, if he ripped it.
there's a hand in his hair, smoothing it back. its cold.
there's a hand in his hair, smoothing it back. its cold.
(xue yang is glad that, in the dark, song lan cant actually see his face.)
all of a sudden he's so, so fucking tired, adrenaline flooding out of him.
all of a sudden he's so, so fucking tired, adrenaline flooding out of him.
"whatever," he says, into the darkness. "stay, if you want."
song lan hums in response.
he stays.
he stays.
