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“Shixiong… I’m so sleepy…”
Yin Yu took a glance at the number of stops that remained before they would return to their home station, then tapped the screen of the phone that sat between him and his boyfriend. The numbers on the bright screen, flashing above the song they were listening to together, informed him that it was nearly three in the morning.
The pair had gone out into the city to watch a movie together, planning a whole day around the nine-o’clock showing in the evening. It only took one mishap with the sudden pouring rains and Quan Yizhen’s mix-up with the navigation that resulted in them missing the movie. They’d gone to eat dinner while they waited and caught the next screening, which had ended at two, leaving them to catch their train with exhausted and addled brains, nearly boarding the wrong train before finally managing to collapse into the seats that would bring them home.
“We’ll be home in half an hour, Yizhen. Will you be okay?”
Quan Yizhen groaned dramatically, burying his face in Yin Yu’s shoulder. “I’ll die before we get there.”
Yin Yu’s lips twitched upwards in a smile and he scooped up the phone to rest in his lap, moving closer to Quan Yizhen.
“Do you want to know what this reminds me of?”
Quan Yizhen mumbled a generally affirmative noise, moving to rest his head more comfortably on Yin Yu’s shoulder, and Yin Yu went on.
“Back when we were in high school, the sparring club… you’d do this all the time. You’d sprint all around the gym and yell and challenge people to duels and tackle people and come running back to me with some kind of bruise or bump. And then…” Yin Yu trailed off, and gave Quan Yizhen a look.
The curly-haired man beside him let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Go on…”
“And then you’d exhaust yourself. Before practice was even over, you’d come back to me and tell me that you were thirsty and tired. I’d tell you to sit down, and I’d pass you my water bottle-”
“Because I’d either left mine at home or drank all of mine-”
“Exactly. As if that wasn’t enough, you’d take my water bottle and drink all of my water.”
Quan Yizhen covered his face in his hands. Pink blush tinged his ears. “Shixiong, you were a saint.”
“I was?” Yin Yu teased. “I’d say I still am.”
His boyfriend huffed in mock-annoyance. “Finish your story, you bully.”
“Why? You already know it.”
“But I like it when you talk about it. It’s cute.”
Yin Yu gave a soft, dramatic sigh and reached around to wrap his arms around Quan Yizhen's middle. “Fine.
“So, you’d run up to me complaining about how sleepy you were. I’d let you drink all my water and then you would flop down on the gym floor and close your eyes.
“I’d scold you and tell you that you’d catch a cold if you slept like that-”
“Which I never did! You were wrong ,” Quan Yizhen insisted. His eyes were half-closed, but a self-satisfied smile spread across his lips.
Yin Yu snorted. “Maybe I should tell this story more. You would’ve definitely caught a cold, but I told you to either use a sweatshirt as a pillow or put your head on my lap. Now do you remember?”
“Yeah,” Quan Yizhen said. His face was soft, making him appear a few years younger. If Yin Yu unfocused his eyes, he could pretend they were back in the gymnasium of their old high school. “I always picked your lap.”
“Mhm. Then, before I knew it, you were snoring away with your head on my lap and Coach was yelling at us for being lazy.”
Quan Yizhen’s face scrunched up. “Coach hated me.”
“She did not.”
“No, she definitely did. I didn’t care though. I hated her too.”
Yin Yu grinned at that. “You did. Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about.”
The train rumbled to a stop and a flow of bleary-eyed late-nighters and foul-smelling drunkards exited. Their subway car was nearly empty now, save for a single college-age boy wearing black headphones, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, and an exhausted looking couple leaning on each other, eyes closed. Yin Yu watched them through the haze of his memories, nostalgia burning behind his eyes. Those days had been so long ago, he’d almost forgotten to miss them.
As if Quan Yizhen was reading his thoughts, he sat up and gave Yin Yu a broad smile. “That’s a great idea. You’re my new pillow!”
With that, he flopped down across the bench they sat on together. He stretched and yawned enormously, resting his head on Yin Yu’s thigh. His golden sun earrings glinted brightly in the flashing lights passing by as their train whipped through tunnels.
“Yizhen!” Yin Yu said, half-amused and half-exasperated.
“Shh,” Quan Yizhen said, closing his eyes and pulling his dark blue jacket tighter around himself. “I’m sleeping.”
He did look rather peaceful, fluffy hair pooling around his head in a golden-brown halo that caught the harsh fluorescent glow and turned into something almost like sunlight. Yin Yu relented easily.
“Alright, fine. Sleep well, my favorite shidi.”
Quan Yizhen sighed happily. “I’m your favorite. I knew it.”
“You always were,” Yin Yu feels compelled to inform him. He moves one hand to rest lightly on Quan Yizhen’s shoulder. Quan Yizhen reached up and grabbed that hand, as simply as if it was breathing.
When Yin Yu finally looked away from the sight of his sleeping boyfriend, he caught sight of a dark-haired man across the train from him.
His long, jet-black hair was braided down his left side, secured by a dark purple ribbon. The space beneath his eyes was dark with sleepless nights and the heavy weight of stress. His black sweater didn’t fit as perfectly as it used to, hanging slightly loose around his shoulders.
But it was hair braided by his boyfriend’s loving hands, palms calloused with years of hard work, full of tenderness just for him. They were eyes that sparkled with happiness, not the same exhaustion he used to feel in high school, trying his best to feel like he measured up to everyone else around him. They were shoulders that didn’t slump, cutting a bold figure, confidence spilling out of the way he held himself.
Yin Yu smiled at the man in the reflection, and the man smiled back.