[ alright well he's crying, now. it's impossible to stop it - tears leak from his eyes and fall down his cheeks, and lu bixing swallows a lump in his throat, the hand on lin's face flexing, once, and then gripping harder. it's probably a good thing that his biochip isn't active. he'd probably hurt him.
he turns his face into his hand and hiccups, a sob that's childish and silly and unbecoming of the prime minister of the eighth galaxy, but just can't help himself. there's nothing else to say, for the moment - all he can do is cry, and finally drop his hand away from lin jingheng's face to hook around him and pull him in closer again, to breathe him in and feel him, alive and solid and realer than anything he's ever dreamed in the long, long seventeen years that passed, and just sobs into his shoulder, body wracking misery that's finally found the tiniest outlet for release. ]
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he turns his face into his hand and hiccups, a sob that's childish and silly and unbecoming of the prime minister of the eighth galaxy, but just can't help himself. there's nothing else to say, for the moment - all he can do is cry, and finally drop his hand away from lin jingheng's face to hook around him and pull him in closer again, to breathe him in and feel him, alive and solid and realer than anything he's ever dreamed in the long, long seventeen years that passed, and just sobs into his shoulder, body wracking misery that's finally found the tiniest outlet for release. ]