Work Text:
Mid-November 2019
Yixing had been so infatuated with the idea of having a soulmate that he hadn’t put any thought into what they may be like. Are they mean or nice? Vapid or humble? Are they Chinese or a foreigner? Would he find them attractive? It wasn’t until Jong Dae brought up what they were going to do for Christmas. It hits them both during one of their daily video calls when Jong Dae brought it up. Yixing had been caught unaware and realizing that honesty was, in this case, the best policy he answered, “I don’t really celebrate it.”
“My family wasn’t religious to begin with; now I’m always busy that time of year so I don’t put in an effort,” he had responded. But by the crestfallen look on Jong Dae’s face, he knew that what he had said had not been the response Jong Dae had been hoping for.
They hadn’t spoken much about their religious views, or of much at all as they were separated once the promotions for the OST were over. But he soon learned that Jong Dae was a devout Catholic. And that Christmas was more than just a holiday hijacked by capitalism to Jong Dae. It was a time for a family to come together and to celebrate the birth of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ.
Or something along those lines. It was all too much to remember. It was late and Yixing was half asleep. Jong Dae’s annoyed expression and tone when he abruptly said goodnight was more than enough to let Yixing know that he was upset. Yixing knew he had to fix it somehow, but not that night. He messaged him ‘Good night. I love you.’ and went to bed. He tries the next day, but he was unable to reach Jong Dae. Or he was ignoring Yixing. He told himself that they each had commitments keeping them from each other.
When they finally were able to talk Jong Dae would quickly change the subject to something else. Sensing his boyfriend’s unease about the subject he let him and just listened to Jong Dae ramble on about his new album that he was producing.
“It’s going to be a rock album. I’ve got the lead single and three other songs down. I had hoped for it to be a full album, but it looks like it’ll have to be a mini-album. It’ll be different but I think I can do it.”
“I know you can do it,” Yixing assures him, giving him one of the dimpled smiles that he knows makes Jong Dae soft.
It has the desired effect when Jong Dae giggles, a blush creeps across his face.
“I miss you,” he says in a quiet voice, sadness creeping in at the end.
“I miss you, too,” Yixing replies. “We’ll be together again soon. I promise.”
Jong Dae nods, eyes downcast. “Yixing.”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Jong Dae hangs up first and Yixing stays staring at the screen wondering how he can fix this. He realizes that it’s late and staying up and fretting over it won’t fix it. He tries to sleep but it is proving to be elusive that night. He tosses and turns in bed trying to will himself to sleep; but sleep proves elusive, so he gets up and works on some new songs. It’s there that his managers find him, asleep hunched over his desk with his guitar in his hands.
“Yixing,” he says softly. “Yixing, get up. It’s time for you to head to the dance studio.
“Yixing!”
Sleeping Beauty, as Jong Dae likes to call him, although the managers sometimes find it hard to find the beauty, finally wakes up.
“Oh, Wei-Ge. What time is it?”
“Its nine-thirty in the morning. I would have let you sleep longer, but we’re late as it is.”
“Do I have time to change,” Yixing asks, gesturing to his pajamas which consisted of a shirt belonging to Jong Dae and old shorts.
As if only just now noticing his clothes the managers nods. “Be quick about it. We’ll have breakfast ready for you in the van. You can brush your teeth at the studio.”
Yixing nods and runs to his closet pulling out a black muscle tee, hoodie, and black sweats. He runs to the door, haphazardly putting on his shoes and power walks it to the elevator along with his manager.
The ride down is quiet, except in Yixing’s head where he’s having an argument with himself whether he should ask his manager now. He knows this isn’t the best time, but with rehearsals going on all day it may be the only time he has to ask about his schedule.
“Wei-Ge,” Yixing says nervously, “Christmas is coming up, and it turns out that it’s a pretty big deal for Jong Dae and his family. Is there any way I could get some time to go to Korea and spend a couple of days with him?”
His manager looks at him as if he’s grown an extra head. Yixing realizes that what he’s requesting is quite impossible.
“I’ll look into it. Maybe we can shuffle something around. But I can’t make any promises, Yixing. Do you understand?”
“I understand. Thank you,” he exclaims.
)o(
“I’m sorry, Yixing. We have a trip to Los Angeles that week to meet with some record execs to sign a contract with them. There’s no rearranging that. Per their words, ‘If I’m working, he’s working.’”
The words still ring through Yixing’s mind as he sits on his bed looking down at his phone. He had been trying to work up the courage to call Jong Dae and tell him that they wouldn’t be spending their first Christmas together.
Letting out a big sigh he opens his phone and facetime Jong Dae. It’s late in the night so he may be asleep already, but he figures that it’s best to just tell him now instead of putting off.
The phone rings several times before he finally sees Jong Dae’s sleepy face on the screen.
“Hey, I’m sorry for waking you up,” Yixing says quietly.
Jong Dae’s hair is disheveled and his eyes are squinting against the light of his phone. When he answers his voice is raspy.
“Yixing? It’s one in the morning. What’s wrong?”
He’d thought that calling him was going to be the hardest thing, but he realizes that telling him is so much harder. There’s a knot in his throat that is causing him to choke on his words.
“Yixing,” Jong Dae says, irritation in his voice. ‘Hell’, Yixing thinks, ‘I’d probably be mad too at being woken up at one in the morning.’
“I can’t go to Korea for Christmas,” he spills out.
“Oh,” Jong Dae. “Well. I can’t say I’m surprised. I half expected it.”
“You did?”
“You're always busy. You were busy with our song. You were busy after. I figured this would be the case, but I still hoped.”
“Me too. I’m sorry.”
“What about the New Year?”
“I’ll be in Beijing for a concert on New Year’s eve.”
Jong Dae nods. “Well, I should go to sleep. I have to be at the studio tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah. Yeah,” Yixing stumbles out. “I’m sorry, Jong Dae. I really am.”
Jong Dae doesn’t say anything else just looks at him through his phone. “Good night, Yixing,” he says and hangs up.
)o(
Christmas Eve, 2019
‘Why the fuck would they want to have a fucking press conference on Christmas Eve?’, Yixing thinks.
‘Don’t these people have homes or families to be with?’ He side-eyes the two CEO’s currently having a laugh at something one of them said. He doubts it was even funny.
‘Oh who am I kidding, they’ll probably set off on their private jets after this to some remote tropical country.’
‘Is it hurricane season anywhere?’
Yixing isn’t usually this petty, but to say Yixing is upset would be an understatement. He was livid. This whole press conference his mind has been elsewhere but none of them are any of the wiser. His face doesn’t betray the diabolical and angry thoughts that have been popping into his head.
‘And the Oscar goes to… ME! For dealing with this bullshit; today of all days.’
But it’s not bullshit and he knows it. This deal will help spread his music throughout America. It was something that he had worked towards and a dream come true. So Yixing keeps a small smile on his face, just enough to show off his dimple and tries to pay attention. Easier said than done when his mind keeps switching back to Jong Dae.
The two hadn’t spoken for the past three days. He tried calling once he arrived in Los Angeles two days ago and again earlier this morning, but his calls had gone straight to voicemail.
“Jong Dae? It’s me, Yixing. I’m sorry, again, for not being able to spend Christmas with you this year. But I promise next year will be just you and me. Call me when you can, please. I’d like to hear your voice for a bit.
“Listen, I have a press conference Christmas Eve but call me whenever and leave me a message. I’ll get back to you, I promise.”
But Jong Dae didn’t call. Not on Christmas Eve morning or before the press conference started. Yixing had been so distracted that his managers took away his phone.
“Yixing is very excited to be undertaking this new project and to be doing it with the support of the industry’s best at his disposal. Isn’t that right, Yixing? Yixing? Yixing.”
Yixing is broken out of his thoughts by the stern voice of his agency’s CEO calling out his name. He turns to face him and is met with an annoyed look. Immediately, Yixing whips out a blinding smile and a laugh that he’s sure will melt the hearts of every person in the room. Except for his CEO; he’s pretty sure that if they were to give him an x-ray there would be empty space where his heart should be.
“Of course. I’m sure that together we will create something that will withstand the test of time and take its place among the greats. And get a good return on investment for these two guys.”
The room fills with laughter. Yixing’s boss gives him a couple of hard slaps on his back, enough to make him slightly wince. The questions end and the last of the pictures are taken. The meeting ends in the early afternoon,
When the presser was over, he walks backstage and stomps over to his manager and stretches out his hand. His manager gives him an eye-roll and pulls out Yixing’s phone. The latter practically rips it out of his hand and stomps off. His manager watches him go and scoffs at his behavior, “Sheep, my ass, more like a goat with a grudge.”
Yixing walks to a secluded hallway, finally unlocking his phone. Only to find messages from his friends, his parents, and grandparents, but none from Jong Dae. His heart falls to the pit of his stomach. The little hope that he’d allowed to flourish, dies. Out of love and respect for the people who tried to call him he listens to all the messages left.
“Yixing! Good luck with your meeting today! Mama and Baba love you! Merry Christmas.”, from his parents.
“Hey, bro! I’d wish you luck today, but I know you’re going to kill it. Show them what that China Sheep is made of! See you, soon!”, his friend, Yi Fan, said. They’ll be sharing the stage at the New Year celebrations in a couple of days.
He’s about to listen to his grandparents’ message when his manager taps him on the shoulder and tells him its time to go. Yixing nods and puts his cellphone in his back pocket. The walk to the van is quiet until he steps outside the building. He’s suddenly bombarded by the screams of adoring fans. Never one to disappoint Yixing bows and waves at them.
“Thank you! Thank you all for coming,” he cries out, trying to talk over them. “Thank you for your support. Merry Christmas!”
With one last wave at the crowd, he lets himself be led into the van. The slamming of the door cuts off the screams. Most of the time he’d be happy for the silence, but the screams had been a reprieve to the melancholy he was feeling beforehand. Yixing settles into his seat and puts in his earphones further drowning out the world.
His manager, Wei-Ge gives him a pitying look from behind the driver’s seat, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’d think his dog had died,” he says.
“He’d have to have a dog in the first place”, Liang Liang, a member of the support staff remarks, causing both to laugh.
“Jong Dae hasn’t called,” Wei asks.
“Nope.”
“He’s really followed through with it, then.”
“Yep.”
The two fall into a comfortable silence, sneaking glances at Yixing every now and again.
)o(
The trio had expected to arrive at the hotel in less than an hour, but Los Angeles traffic being fickle as always they were stuck for nearly four hours. During which Yixing takes a long-needed nap. When he wakes up, he pulls out his phone to call Jong Dae again only to realize that his phone has run out of battery. “Oh, crap,” he thinks.
He rummages through his bag to find his portable charger but realizes that he’d left it charging in his hotel room. And, to add insult to injury he doesn’t have an extra cable.
“Ge, can I borrower your phone charger?”
“Hmm? Oh, uh, sorry Yixing, I forgot it at the hotel.”
“What about you, Jie?”
“Mine broke,” she replies quickly.
Yixing throws his head back and lets out a groan. “How much longer until we get to the hotel?”
“Per the GPS we’re twenty minutes away from the hotel. Barring another accident or the end of the world we should be there soon.”
“You all right,” Liang Liang asks, sending him a worried look.
“I’m tired, Jie. I haven’t talked to Jong Dae in so long,” he says, voice cracking. “I need to talk to him.”
When they arrive at the hotel Yixing jumps out of the van and rushes to the elevator leaving them behind.
He’d been able to keep himself together throughout the day but now that he’s done and alone in the elevator, he can feel his emotions bubble up to the surface. With each passing floor, he feels himself becoming consumed with thoughts of insecurity. There’s a voice in his head that is getting louder and louder. Telling him that he screwed up so bad that there will be no fixing this. He can feel beads of sweat budding on his forehead and in his underarms. He wipes his clammy hands on his pants.
Yixing steps out of the elevator and sprints to his room. He pulls out his room key and slips it into the reader. Instead of the green light and the door being unlocked the red-light beeps on. He tries again but it still doesn’t open. He tries again and again but the door doesn’t open up. It doesn’t help that his hand is shaking, making it hard for the key card to go in.
“Come on,” he whines, trying again. Once again, the red light comes on. Frustrated he slams his fist against the door. His breathing is ragged. Finally giving in to his feelings he sinks to the group.
Yixing has tried for the last couple of days to ignore the feeling in his mind, but it’s all become too much for him. The voice in his head is taunting him, “Can’t even open a door. How do you expect to save this relationship? You’re a failure.”
There’s no ignoring it now. He tries to lift himself up but loses his balance when the door behind him opens sending him crashing to the floor.
“Ow,” he groans out rubbing the back of his head.
He hears a familiar voice exclaim, “Oh my God. Yixing! I’m so sorry!”
Jong Dae? He opens his eyes and there he is. The love of his life is standing above him with a worried look on his face.
“What are you doing here, Jong Dae? And how did you get into my room?”
Jong Dae lets out a sigh, “Yixing, we need to talk.”
)0(
Jong Dae said they needed to talk but all they’ve done so far is lay on his bed with an icepack to his head. Not that he’s complaining as this is the most attention he’s received from Jong Dae in weeks. But he can tell Jong Dae is trying to start the conversation, his lips opening and closing every few minutes. Yixing is scared too, but that fear is what got them here and now its time to face it head-on.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
Jong Dae lets out what sounds like a sigh of relief. “I was thinking about us. We really need to figure this all out. And I know that we won’t get it figured out tonight, but maybe we can figure out Christmas at least.”
“What were you thinking?”
Jong Dae cups his cheek. “I love you. I thank God every day for having you in my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I don’t want to be away from you at Christmas. Or ever really.”
“But Jong Dae. We have our careers to think about. You have yours in South Korea and I have it in China.”
“Why can’t you do it in South Korea,” Jong Dae whispers, avoiding Yixing’s eyes.
“Why can’t you do it in China,” Yixing spits out with more bite than he meant to.
Jong Dae recoils away from Yixing but stands his ground. “Yixing, I’m a practicing Catholic, you are secular. And that works for you in China, but it doesn’t for me. I wouldn’t be able to practice it there.”
Yixing wants to argue but he knows he has a point. He loves China; it’s his home. He can’t just leave it behind. “Is there anything I can do to fix it?”
“We, Yixing. We. This isn’t something that just you can fix. Besides I’m asking for a lot. I know that. So what I’m proposing is that we split up our time in each country. And to and decide which holidays and birthdays we can’t miss. We’ll need to try to not be busy on those days. Really try, Yixing.”
Yixing bites his lip, thinking of all their commitments and all the opportunities that they have at hand. “It’ll mean giving stuff up.”
“Like what? Variety show appearances. Music shows? Award shows,” Jong Dae lists off, “We can go on tours instead. Well organized tours so that maybe we can be with each other on. We’ll gain so much more, Yixing.
“Do you realize that in the time that we’ve met we have gone on two dates. Only two. The rest of the time we spend skyping or face timing each other, texting, but we just don’t spend time together.”
Jong Dae gets up and walks over to his suitcase, taking something out. He comes back to bed and hands a small square box to Yixing. Yixing’s immediate thought is that its an engagement ring. He takes it in his hands, mouth agape, and just stares at it. As if reading his thoughts Jong Dae says, “It’s not a ring.”
Yixing whips his head to look at Jong Dae. “It’s not?”
A giggle falls from Jong Dae’s lips, “Not yet at least. Now go on, open it.”
Slightly let down, but nonetheless, still curious, Yixing opens it and finds a single key. He looks up to Jong Dae with a look of confusion marring his face. The latter sits down next to him and takes his hands in his. He strokes them softly, endearingly so.
“It’s a key to our house in Seoul. I sold my place and bought a bigger apartment.” He lets go of Yixing’s hands and reaches for his phone. Yixing watches him fiddle with it, pulling up something.
“I got it with our future in mind. It’s a rash decision, but it’ll be good for us, I know it,” he says as he turns the phone to Yixing.
He begins to swipe through the pictures. The first one is of Jong Dae standing outside a tall building, smiling, arms outstretched. He’s wearing his grey oversized hoodie and a pair of khaki pants. The next one is him standing in the entryway of what must be the apartment. Next, is a picture of him in a half furnished living room.
“I left the apartment fairly unfurnished so that when you have time you can come, and together, we can make it ours.”
The next ones are of Jong Dae setting up a Christmas tree, “Next year I hope to have you there with me to decorate our tree.”
‘Our tree. Our apartment.’, Yixing thinks.
Yixing is at a loss for words. Jong Dae continues scrolling through all the pictures and each one burns itself into his mind. Pictures of Jong Dae in the kitchen preparing a meal. A picture of Jong Dae eating said meal at their dining table. Alone. That bothers Yixing, he should be there sharing the meal together. Then one of him in the bathroom, doing himself up in the mirror. More and more show Jong Dae living in the bare apartment. The bedroom is a queen bed, two side tables. The closet itself is quite big with plenty of room for his clothes and his shoes. Again Yixing feels bothered that half of it is empty instead of his stuff being there to fill it.
“Who’s taking those pictures of you?”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s my friend’s boyfriend, Se Hun.”
“How did you two meet,” he asks, bristling at the idea of anyone else seeing Jong Dae so intimately.
“I met his boyfriend Jun Myeon at a music show taping. He’s a new artist that has a bright future in the industry. I’m sure of it. He’s been indie for a long time and is finally getting his big break. He was going around introducing himself and giving us all coffee.”
“You like him?”
“Yes, I do. He’s a nice guy. And incredibly talented too. Oh, just wait until you hear his voice! He’ll be giving me a run for my money soon. Enough of them, I haven’t shown you the best part of our house.”
“There’s more? That place looked huge already, how much more can there be,” Yixing asks incredulously.
“Two more bedrooms.”
“For what? Guest rooms.”
Jong Dae looks up, his mouth agape. “I didn’t think of that. No, they’re for our studios. You and I are both writers and singers. You a producer. Just because you’re in a foreign country doesn’t mean you’ll stop producing and the same for me. When I’m in China I won’t stop songwriting or singing. This way you can do it easily and you won’t waste money renting out a place.”
Yixing and Jong Dae’s look up at each other. Jong Dae is trying to gauge Yixing’s reaction, but the latter’s face isn’t betraying anything. It’s not until Yixing closes the distance between them and gives him a kiss that he’s able to discern his boyfriend’s happiness. They kiss for a while before pulling away.
“It’s amazing. Thank you.”
“So what do you think? Can this work? Can we work?”
“I don’t know. It’s a lot to change. Especially for our careers,” Yixing says honestly. “But I know that I will try, with all my might, to make it work. And you will too.”
“So it’s a yes then, you’ll come to live in Korea with me?”
“Yes. Yes, I will,” Yixing says. He leans forward trying to kiss Jong Dae, as the other turns away and opens a drawer pulling out another small, square box. This time Yixing is properly confused. He just said that there wouldn’t be a ring for a while but there he is with a ring, an engagement ring, in his hands.
“Jong Dae? What are you doing,” he asks, feeling his voice begin to crack.
“I know what I said, but I lied. I’ve made it clear that I want, no, that I expect, to live the rest of my life with you next to me. Now I’ll do that whether it is in China or in Korea. Hell, it could be in Timbuktu; although, I hope it doesn’t come to that. Yixing, what do you say about spending the rest of our lives together, as it should have been, all along, and will, hopefully, always be?”
Years on when Yixing tells people their engagement story he’ll realize how romantic it was. Jong Dae proposing after having bought a house with a room just for him to use as a studio, proclaiming his love. But at that moment all he could think at the time was… how much of a jerk Jong Dae was for springing that on him. Because it was a lot, so much so that Yixing was in tears for the rest of the night. He had moaned and groaned at how Jong Dae played with his heart.
“You jerk! You can’t give me a small box, say that it’s for our house, not an engagement ring. Then take out another box with an engagement ring and ask me to marry you! My heart can’t take that.”
He punches Jong Dae, but not hard enough to make it hurt. Hurt too much, at least.
“I’m sorry for pulling that on you, but I wanted to make sure that you would agree to at least try. Even if you didn’t, I would have still given you the key to the apartment. It’ll always be there to welcome you home.”
Yixing isn’t sure what’s wrong with him but the tears won’t stop coming and overwhelmed with exhaustion. He cries and keeps crying, and Jong Dae just holds him until he falls asleep to Jong Dae singing him a ballad of his.
The next day Yixing wakes up next to Jong Dae. Something they hadn’t had much time together to do. Yixing looks at Jong Dae and although the latter is laying on his back with his arms outstretched and looking like a mess, he can’t help the surge of love that fills his heart looking at his fiancé.
Fiancé. ‘Such a nice word,’ Yixing thinks. He looks at his ring finger to look at the ring when he realizes that he never said yes. Nor that he actually looked at the ring. He just became a blubbering crying mess.
He sits up looking around for the ring. He spots both boxes on the side table and climbs over Jong Dae to reach them. In his haste to get the ring, he didn’t even try to not disturb Jon Dae. The latter wakes up with a jab to the abdomen and Yixing laying on top of him staring in awe at the ring.
“So, will you give me an answer now,” Jong Dae asks, voice groggy trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.
Yixing doesn’t look away from the ring and just nods his head.
)o(
Looking back years later Jong Dae would think that Yixing’s inability to speak was cute and that it showed just how overwhelmed he was. Yixing’s words, not his. But at that moment Jong Dae rolls his eyes and tries to go back to sleep. Though the weight of Yixing on him was a bit of a bother, he figured it was a bother he’d be happy to live with.