[ off they go. bixing doesn't mind too much, and he likes a surprise - he smiles at lin jingheng's back as he tugs him along, and then threads their fingers together a little more tightly. across the islands, across the ferry, and... when they end up back at the resort and back at that room with the planets, he laughs.
he can't help it. it's soft, sweet like a fluttering bird, and he squeezes jingheng's hand again and leans into his arm when he spots the pillows and blankets, and then looks up, reminded immediately of that saturday in the planetarium now months ago. things are better, have gotten better since. maybe not perfect. there are still days when he's terrified that lin jingheng is going to wise up and leave him. there are still days when he wakes up holding back a scream in the middle of a night, where he has nightmares of lin jingheng shriveling in space, of lin jingheng being shot, twice, right in front of him, of lin jingheng over the side of a cliff, his ship exploding in the middle of a transfer portal, and he has to force himself to put his hand on lin's chest and tremble and remember that he's still alive. but, despite everything here, he's done some healing. despite everything, spending eight weeks by jingheng's side was a balm for lu bixing's weary, broken soul.
there's something so sweet, replicating what once was so grand and miserable into something like this, a quiet, private room with hangings of planets and stars. ]
Lin. [ bixing says, soft, affectionate, a little wry. ] When did you sneak away and do this?
[ he sounds utterly romanced, the smile in his voice almost boyish as he goes where he's told, down to the blankets. ]
No, but I bet if you put your mind to it, you could. [ his lin... he is so smart and cool... it's a little bit of a joke, though, and the comedic mental image of lin jingheng doing his kind of work melts away immediately as he takes his hand and changes the subject.
his smile lifts further, at the idea of a celebration, at the kisses, and bixing steps a little closer to him, his fingers curling very gently. ]
We're going to get married. [ he says, hushed like it's a secret. like if he says it too loud, it might not come true. ] I'm going to marry you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
he can't help it. it's soft, sweet like a fluttering bird, and he squeezes jingheng's hand again and leans into his arm when he spots the pillows and blankets, and then looks up, reminded immediately of that saturday in the planetarium now months ago. things are better, have gotten better since. maybe not perfect. there are still days when he's terrified that lin jingheng is going to wise up and leave him. there are still days when he wakes up holding back a scream in the middle of a night, where he has nightmares of lin jingheng shriveling in space, of lin jingheng being shot, twice, right in front of him, of lin jingheng over the side of a cliff, his ship exploding in the middle of a transfer portal, and he has to force himself to put his hand on lin's chest and tremble and remember that he's still alive. but, despite everything here, he's done some healing. despite everything, spending eight weeks by jingheng's side was a balm for lu bixing's weary, broken soul.
there's something so sweet, replicating what once was so grand and miserable into something like this, a quiet, private room with hangings of planets and stars. ]
Lin. [ bixing says, soft, affectionate, a little wry. ] When did you sneak away and do this?
[ he sounds utterly romanced, the smile in his voice almost boyish as he goes where he's told, down to the blankets. ]
no subject
[ he takes his hand, brings it up, palm facing him and presses his lips very quietly against the lines of his hand, against the base of his fingers. ]
I can, however, make sure you don't burn out.
Besides.
We should celebrate, shouldn't we?
no subject
No, but I bet if you put your mind to it, you could. [ his lin... he is so smart and cool... it's a little bit of a joke, though, and the comedic mental image of lin jingheng doing his kind of work melts away immediately as he takes his hand and changes the subject.
his smile lifts further, at the idea of a celebration, at the kisses, and bixing steps a little closer to him, his fingers curling very gently. ]
We're going to get married. [ he says, hushed like it's a secret. like if he says it too loud, it might not come true. ] I'm going to marry you.
[ a ]