2Step.
Ow.
Step.
Ow.
Ste—
This is fucking ridiculous.
Yixing cursed himself as he hobbles over to the wall, whimpering pathetically as every step sent waves of pain throughout his body. He appreciated the concerned glances he got from the other patrons, but only one thought was circulating in his brain.
I'm going to fucking kill Luhan, and his little shit of a boyfriend too.
If Luhan ever asks you to play football with him, decline. The boy doesn't know a friendly competition to a life and death match. Yixing, sadly, had agreed. And the consequence to his horrible choice in life decisions?
He looked down to his right leg, grimacing at the bright blue cast that encased it. He shifted it experimentally, and quickly held in a pained groan that followed. His eyes blurred for a split second, but he refused to cry because of a little ache. The brown haired male looked around him, ignoring the bright lights from the slot machines and the clicks from the chips of the poker tables. His phone died hours before, and the elevators to the rooms were nowhere within his line of vision.
Oh, and did I mention he didn't even speak English.
Again, if Luhan ever offers to take you to the U.S in apology for violently breaking your leg in a vicious game of life-or-death football, say no. Yixing however, again, agreed and now he was paying the price for his poor decisions. Like the fool he was, he was persuaded by his baby faced companion's pouty face and promises of beach side tanning sessions with deep tissue messages along with bountiful amounts of deliciously unhealthy food.
He was almost completely convinced when Luhan had told him they'd be flying first class. When he asked him how in the world he'd gotten that good of a deal, a vague reply of oh, a friend hooked me up was his answer, and at the time, he didn't question it.
As of the moment though, the Chinese male wishes he could travel back in time and slap Luhan for bringing him into this mess. Just an hour before, the three of them, he, Luhan, and his beau, Xiumin, had been eating at the food court. Yixing went to the restroom for five minutes and when he got back?
Not one sign that Luhan and Xiumin were there was left.
And that brings us to our current predicament. Yixing; lost, alone, hurt, and helpless in a sea of Americans who didn't speak an ounce of Chinese.
Fuck, ok—um, I know how to say—um, fuck my leg hurts.
Yixing struggles to move with the crowd, mainly because he has to bag his crutches with him. Another thing he hated; why did these casinos have so many people? Why did they have to smoke? Why was everyone so annoyingly loud? Maybe if he just dropped dead they'd be quiet.
"XINGXING!"
Dear lord—
Something warm and heavy tackles him from behind. His crutches wobble and give out, and because only one of his legs is functional, both he and his offender go tumbling down.
"XingXing, I looked everywhere for you! Me and Xiumin thought you left the food court—Yixing?" Luhan stops blabbering when he notices the fallen male isn't responding. Luhan pokes him lightly on his stomach.
Yixing responds with a weak moan.
Fuck you, he meant to say
"Luhan?" An unfamiliar deep voice breaks through the cracks of hazy fog gathering in Yixing's mind.
His vision begins to fade, and black dots litter his line of sight. Noting the fact that a crowd had gathered, he makes a feeble attempt at getting up.
His arms weakly push against the ground, but with Luhan's extra weight, it was impossible in his current state to push the other off. The black dots increase and a wave of dizziness hits him.
"Luhan, I think he's going to pass out. Get off him." Suddenly, the felonious weight is relieved from him. For some reason, he feels tired again. Maybe napping in the middle of the floor in a casino full of bustling tourists isn't a good idea, but the least they could do is step around his soon to be lifeless form.
Just as his eyes were about to flutter close, hands grip around his waist and hoist him up. He's too out of it to react, and the last thing he remembers is being carted away in a wheelchair followed by a worried looking Luhan and a confused Xiumin.
"Krissy, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean too! Is he going to be alright?"
"Don't apologize to me; I'm not the one who you knocked over. And yeah, he's going to be alright. He probably passed out because of the sudden shock of you jumping on him."
The voices echo in his head and he realizes that no, he wasn't on the floor anymore, and who, did that wonderfully deep voice belong to. He attempts to wriggle his fingers, but gets out a slight twitch. Luhan didn't miss anything though, with his creepy hawk eyes.
"I saw him move! Kris, he's waking up, go get Zitao to check on him!"
"Ugh…Luhan, shut up…."
Once his eyes open, his field of vision is intruded upon by a stranger with comically dark eye bags.
"Hmm….He looks alright. Do you feel lightheaded?" He asks, head cocked cutely to the side. Yixing thinks the kid isn't older than twenty one at most.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you." He nods his head and looks around, noting that the room he was in resembled an employee resting room. Luhan and Xiumin sat together on the love seat while he was sprawled out on the couch. The 'eye bags' stranger had moved and was now whispering next to a tall man with hair dyed golden honey near the entrance way.
The tall man coughs and scratches his head, looking a bit sheepish. "We had to wheel you in with a wheelchair. Your crutches couldn't take the weight of the impact and kind of…snapped." He bends down and picks up four metallic pieces that used to be his crutches, now adorned with jagged ends signaling where they had shattered.
Yixing blinked, mouthing a slight 'oh'. He wasn't actually listening; the tall nameless man with golden honey hair and god-like facial features being too distracting in his current being of mind.
Luhan nudges him gently, "XingXing, are you alright? You're all red in the face…" Luhan furrows his eyebrows and follow Yixing's line of vision. Once his eyes land on the tall stranger, his eyes widen in realization. In a split second, a smirk coils itself onto his normally pouty face.
Shit, no Luhan I swear—
"Kris! My old pal, you don't know my fellow companion here do you?" His eyes twinkl with mischievousness that Yixing had come to fear.
"No…" Kris trails off, warm brown orbs glancing questioningly at him. He flushes and cuddles deeper into the leather couch.
Luhan hops off the loveseat and bounds to the disabled man. He leans down to his ear and whispers, "Don't worry; I'll get you laid in no time."
"God, Luhan please—"
Luhan shushes him by placing a finger to his lips. The little devil smiles and tilts his head discreetly towards Kris, "He has a huge dick, just wait."
Yixing turns his eyes to Kris and silently sends out a plea for help. Sadly, the other man couldn't understand and smiled nervously. "Hey, I'm Kris."
Yixing felt bad that he knew Luhan.
But since Luhan could get him into his pants, he concluded that it wasn't so bad as he shakes hands with the handsome man.