Work Text:
If Wu Suowei quite frankly died tonight—and given the trajectory of his life lately, that was entirely plausible—he hoped someone would have the decency to check his spinal cord during the autopsy. Not for the signs of assault or abuse, but for structural failure. Ligament rupture. Compression damage. Enthusiastic wear and tear.
Because whatever his body was currently enduring, it was anything but natural. And it wasn’t even a symptom of any underlying condition; he’d had a full-body check-up at Shuai’s clinic just a month ago, and the reports had come back immaculate.
And it definitely wasn't his age catching up to him as well. Mind you, he was still in his twenties.
The reason behind this grotesque level of physical devastation was none other than his boyfriend Chi Cheng.
More specifically: Chi Cheng’s apparent mission to make love like he was simultaneously attempting to break a Guinness World Record and qualify for Olympic wrestling.
With a long, beleaguered sigh, Suowei sat in the darkened kitchen, bent slightly forward in his chair like an old man recovering from a slip-and-fall. A lukewarm mug of mint tea steamed faintly in his hands. The house was quiet—eerily so—and he was alone, mercifully alone. Chi Cheng was fast asleep, snoring in oblivious triumph, unaware of the bodily carnage he had left in his wake. Their shared bedroom had become something of a warzone. The sheets were still a mess. The air still smelled faintly of eucalyptus and sin.
Suowei took a long sip of tea and winced as he shifted in his seat.
Across the room, the digital clock blinked: 3:04 a.m.
“Am I not too young to die like this?! And if the cause ends up being my boyfriend’s unholy sex drive, people are going to laugh at me!” Suowei muttered to no one in particular, rubbing the base of his spine with the heel of his palm. “I asked for love and obsession, not a sex god with a personal vendetta against my lower back!”
Muttering a few more curses under his breath, he picked up his phone from the table. “This has to stop. Otherwise, my life is going to hit its full stop before I even get to see my kid—Xiao Cubao—and Xiao Cubao’s kids grow up!”
He opened the familiar glowing green icon of WeChat and opened the only chat that could offer him some kind of support, or more like the only place he could still cry for help:
Emotional Support —Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Wu Suowei
HELP ME
HELP ME
HELP ME!!!
Xiaoshuai
can you explain in simple terms 😭. It's 3 in the freaking morning!
Wu Suowei
Shuaiiii 😭😭
I've no ass left 😭 I can't feel it anymore
Guo Chengyu
you guys have been dating for like 2 weeks and this is already the 5th “he broke my ass” message
Wu Suowei
FIVE?!
it's been EIGHT. I counted. There are timestamps.
My spine has a kink in it and not the fun kind. 🥲
Xiaoshuai
💀💀💀💀
damn he's still in heat or something?? dude's got a sex drive higher than my addiction to yaoi.
Guo Chengyu
I'm surprised you guys did every research on him but this.
Xiaoshuai
babe, we knew he was hormonal. We just didn't know he would be THIS hormonal.
Wu Suowei
we did it THRICE and he still wanted more! WHAT DID HIS PARENTS FEED HIM CHENG YU?!!
Guo Chengyu
he has been like that since puberty hit him. I once walked in on him using a foam roller… for wrong reasons 😐
Wu Suowei
I'm sleeping in the bathtub tonight. He tried to take me WHILE I WAS BRUSHING MY TEETH. Said I looked sexy with that white foam dribbling down my chin. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN
Xiaoshuai
As much as I'm entertained and want to laugh, this sounds concerning 😭. Your ass might go out of order and never get to see daylight, bestie.
Wu Suowei
STOP SCARING ME 😭😭
Xiaoshuai
We need to strategize a A PLAN. A foolproof plan to ward off Chi Cheng's insatiable sex demon. It will consist of four phases.
Suowei paused. He frowned at his screen. A PLAN was capitalized. That couldn’t be good.
Wu Suowei
You just made that up while sitting on the toilet, didn’t you?
Xiaoshuai
I'm a doctor and your master. Don't underestimate the power of my brain. I’m coming over tomorrow.
Guo Chengyu
a blind man leading another blind man. What a cinematic disaster.
Xiaoshuai
CHENG. YU.
Guo Chengyu
🤐🤐🤐
Suowei sighed and tossed the phone gently onto the table. It bounced once before landing with a soft thud.
There was a moment of quiet. He welcomed it like a blessing.
However the peace was short lived because his thoroughly cursed, sex-addled brain drifted back to the one man responsible for his current state of disrepair.
Chi Cheng.
Twenty-five years of pent-up passion, apparently funneled into one extraordinarily attractive man. A man who smelled like luxury cologne and pure temptation, who kept snakes as if they were plush toys, and kissed like he was either preserving a fragile art piece or dying mid-sentence—Suowei still wasn’t sure which. Chi Cheng was tall. Dangerous. Soft-spoken and gentle—until he absolutely wasn’t.
It was confusing. Because no matter how high his sex drive was, Chi Cheng never crossed a line Suowei had drawn. He was a shameless pervert through and through but it wasn't a lie that he respected Suowei and his wishes like his own.
He remembers, three days ago when he’d tried to ask for just one night off. A brief hiatus to let his nervous system reboot, to allow his knees and feet to realign with gravity and the laws of physics.
“Can we not do this today? I'm too sore.” His eyes were shining with tears. Because his lower half was really in pain.
Chi Cheng gave a soft smile in response and nodded. “You rest, and I'll do all the work, baobei.” He replied with genuine concern.
And he had meant it. That day, Chi Cheng cooked, cleaned, and did every chore without complaint. He wouldn’t even let Suowei walk, afraid he might topple over. He carried him around the house like it was the most normal thing in the world.
And God help Suowei because— he loved this princess treatment way more than he should have.
Shaking his head to dispel the rising warmth in his chest (and elsewhere), Suowei slowly limped back towards the bedroom, one hand braced on the wall as he navigated the hallway like a war veteran. The air still held traces of Chi Cheng’s body wash and the aftermath of their recent... activities. Suowei loathed how much he liked that scent.
He flopped onto the bed with a low grunt. His muscles screamed. His soul whispered a soft eulogy.
The problem wasn’t that he wanted to stop having sex with Chi Cheng. Quite the opposite. He liked being wanted. He liked being adore—but Chi Cheng wanted him like he was air and water and a slightly off-menu buffet. It was overwhelming. It was flattering.
It was also a hazard to national infrastructure.
Groaning, Suowei threw an arm over his eyes and exhaled.
Maybe—just maybe—Xiaoshuai really did have a plan. Maybe there was a way to dial things down without smothering the love.
Because love shouldn’t come with an ice pack and a neck brace.
He reached behind himself, tugged a plush cushion beneath his hips, and slowly closed his eyes. Tried to breathe.
Chi Cheng loved him. He knew that. There was no doubt about it.
He just wanted to survive being loved by him.
******************
Next morning, Wu Suowei was jolted awake by the sound of his doorbell being leaned on like it owed someone money.
His joints creaked in protest as he swung his legs off the bed. Every inch of his body ached like he’d participated in a full-contact sports tournament he hadn’t trained for. He wore a hoodie, the oversized hood pulled low over his eyes to shield him from the oppressive sunlight muscling its way through the half-drawn blinds of the spacious bedroom. Beside him, Chi Cheng, was still asleep. Xiaocubao hissed from within his carefully curated enclosure that Suowei had specifically built for the little green eyed monster.
The wall clock blinked 6:15 A.M.
Letting out a low grunt, Suowei dragged himself out of the room and cracked open the front door. He stared blearily at his best friend, standing like a harbinger of chaos.
“Your savior has arrived,” Xiaoshuai declared, marching in with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a glint in his eye. “Step aside, victim of lust. I’m about to realign your spine and your destiny.”
“I can trust you, right?” Suowei asked, voice hoarse from exhaustion.
“You dare to doubt your master?!” Shuai glared at Suowei.
“The last time I followed your plan, I ended up becoming his lover instead of getting revenge,” Suowei muttered, rolling his eyes.
“And you should be thanking me for that. You scored a premium-grade boyfriend. Now step aside—I brought immunity,” Xiaoshuai said, kicking the door shut behind him.
Xiaoshuai flung the duffel onto the couch with theatrical flair, then pulled out a tangle of bizarre objects: crystals wrapped in tissue paper, a book titled “The Tao of Celibacy,” a Tibetan singing bowl, and a ziplock full of ginger tea bags.
“What the hell is this?” Suowei muttered, eyeing the items with growing dread.
“Your path to salvation,” Xiaoshuai replied solemnly. “You are being spiritually overwhelmed by Chi Cheng’s unchecked libido. It’s time to deploy the Plan.”
He turned dramatically toward Suowei and raised a single finger with a glint in his eyes and a sinister smile which sent chills down Suowei's jello spine.
“Phase One: Induce Celibate Vibes. We begin tomorrow.”
The Next Day:
At exactly 6:00 A.M., Wu Suowei stood barefoot on the dewy lawn behind his and Chi Cheng’s villa, trying not to vomit from the sheer humiliation of what he was doing.
He wore Xiaoshuai’s ancient high school track jacket—blazing red and offensively ugly—and held a trembling yoga pose that made his thighs quiver like a newborn deer. His face gleamed under a slick aloe vera mask.
The sun had barely peeked over the horizon. A few street cats observed him from a safe distance, visibly disturbed.
Xiaoshuai sat cross-legged nearby on a floral blanket, eyes closed, dragging a wooden mallet slowly around a singing bowl that emitted a haunting, off-key hum like a haunted kazoo.
“This is humiliating!” Suowei hissed through gritted teeth. “Are you sure this is what celibacy looks like? Because I feel like a scam artist running a pyramid scheme out of a food truck.”
“Exactly, that's the point,” Xiaoshuai replied, calm as a monk. “You have to look like desire abandoned you years ago.”
At that moment, the familiar sound of a sliding glass door opening echoed from above.
Suowei didn’t need to look. He knew that sound too well.
Chi Cheng leaned over the third-floor balcony railing, arms folded, his voice low and groggy with sleep.
“...Dabao?”
Suowei froze mid–tree pose.
He risked a glance upward and immediately regretted it.
There stood Chi Cheng: shirtless, hair a mess, mug of coffee in one hand, towel around his neck, and the softest, dumbest, most adoring smile on his face.
“Are you... doing yoga?”
“What does it look like?!” Suowei barked, wobbling dangerously. “I’m centering my essence!”
“You look like you’re in pain.”
“IT’S PART OF THE PROCESS.”
Chi Cheng blinked, then added, in the gentlest tone known to mankind:
“Your legs look really good in those shorts.”
Suowei screamed and immediately toppled over.
After peeling himself off the grass and limping back inside, Suowei collapsed onto the floor like a wilted daikon. Xiaoshuai handed him a bottle of coconut water with the solemnity of a priest giving last rites.
“You did well for a beginner,” he said. “But now is not the time to rest. It’s time for Phase Two.”
*******
They were currently holed up in Xiaoshuai’s clinic. Phase Two was, in theory, incredibly simple. To fake a disease or symptom of a medical condition and use it as a shield to save Suowei’s poor, overworked body from further bedroom catastrophes. And since Xiaoshuai was a certified doctor, he should’ve been able to concoct something believable enough to buy Suowei some peace.
“How about a…gout?” Xiaoshuai offered, curled up on the swivel chair, scrolling through a list of conditions that restricted pelvic movement.
“I don’t care,” Suowei groaned, lying flat on the exam bed like a dying patient. “I just need something that’ll keep his hands off me.”
Thirty minutes later—after scrolling through obscure forums, skimming outdated textbooks, and arguing over whether or not nerve fatigue was real—they landed on something completely fabricated:
Ass arrhythmia.
It sounded unbelievable. Even Chengyu rolled his eyes at this hypocrisy but stayed quiet.
Suowei, meanwhile, walked out of the clinic with a beatific smile... and an even more dramatic limp.
That evening, over steamed fish and rice, Suowei cleared his throat and attempted seriousness.
“So, I had my monthly checkup done at Shuai's.”
Chi Cheng looked up, instantly attentive.
“Is everything okay?”
Suowei avoided eye contact, directing his gaze meaningfully at his rice bowl.
“I’ve been diagnosed with a… rare neuromuscular condition,” he said slowly, layering on the gravitas like he was reading for a hospital drama audition. “Xiaoshuai called it... gluteal rhythm dissonance.”
Chi Cheng blinked.
“You mean, like... ass arrhythmia?”
“That’s the layman’s term, yes,” Suowei replied, lifting his chin slightly, as if wounded by the phrasing.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Cheng nodded, serious as ever.
“Okay. So… I have to be gentle with my thrusts…hmm, okay.” he said it more to himself than to Wei, as if already adjusting angles in his mind.
“No! Wtf Chi Cheng, it's not what I said—” Suowei clutched his chopsticks. “UGH!”
Later that night—after one round of extremely gentle, allegedly therapeutic sex—Suowei lay curled in bed, staring at the ceiling in resigned disbelief.
He picked up his phone and opened the only place he could cry honestly
Emotional Support — Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Wu Suowei
I still got railed…
But it was gentle so the pain was less🥲
I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.
Xiaoshuai
Progress is still progress.
Now moving onto phase three.
Ha ha ha 😈 😈 😈
Wu Suowei
It sounds like a scam…
Guo Chengyu
I hope y'all succeed lmao.
*********
Two days later, Xiaoshuai arrived with what he proudly called “The Ultimate Uglification Sex-Repellent Bomb.”
Inside the oversized tote bag of horror were the following cursed artifacts:
A knitted beige balaclava
A faded track suit from 2009 with “JUNIOR VARSITY” in flaking yellow print
A pair of Crocs with frog charms
An oversized graphic tee that read I DRINK TAP WATER IRONICALLY
“Put these on,” Xiaoshuai commanded. “You need to look like you crawl out of the sewer everyday and read lottery scratch cards for breakfast.”
“I already look like I’m grieving the loss of my pelvic floor,” Suowei muttered, tugging the balaclava over his head.
“Don't worry, bestie. This will definitely keep him away…assuming he's sane.” Shuai said, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat that felt more like a curse.
That night, Chi Cheng walked into the apartment to find Suowei lying on the couch like a drained lizard, covered in essential oils and watching a slow-paced documentary about coral bleaching.
As Cheng entered, Suowei raised a limp hand in greeting.
“I’m in recovery from my arrhythmia ,” he declared with all the energy of a wounded sea creature.
Chi Cheng blinked. Took in the full look. “...In that outfit? You look like a sea monk.”
“Thank you. That was my goal”
Cheng crouched beside him and gently tucked a blanket over Suowei’s feet.
“Do you need anything?”
“Yes. For you to keep your hands off me.”
Cheng just smiled. They didn't do anything that night.
And for the first time in recent memory, Wu Suowei tasted what true relief felt like. But the next day, Chi Cheng still railed him—gently, lovingly, apologetically, like a well-mannered beast.
The plan successfully failed.
Which led Suowei to Phase Four—the final, most desperate move of the plan.
Xiaoshuai had told him to make use of Chi Cheng's assistant and keep him drowned in work so that the physical exhaustion would tire him up.
And just like that, Suowei messaged Chi Cheng’s assistant, Li Gang, with a desperate bribe.
Wu Suowei
I’ll give you Chi Cheng's black card and a limited edition Wen Junhui photocard if you flood Cheng’s schedule for the next 3 days.
The reply was immediate.
Li Gang
Make it three photocards and you have a deal, boss.
Wu Suowei
Done. Make him so busy he forgets what a bed is.
By the next morning, Cheng’s calendar was packed tighter than an overworked idol’s monthly schedule. Seventeen-hour workdays. Emergency strategy meetings. A fake Zoom with a company that didn’t even exist.
It worked. Oh, it worked too well.
By Thursday night, Chi Cheng staggered into the apartment looking like a sleep-deprived vampire. He threw his bag down, flopped face-first onto the couch beside Suowei, and let out a guttural sigh.
“Gang’s trying to kill me,” he mumbled into a pillow. “I’m losing my mind.”
“It’s okay,” Suowei said sweetly, not even pretending to be innocent. “You needed humbling. You’ve been rotting in bed like a sex demon for far too long.”
“I need you,” Cheng said, voice muffled. And it wasn't even in a pervert way. Just a genuine fact.
Suowei paused. His heart did something inconvenient with those words.
He looked away. His ears burned. Begrudgingly he reached out and placed a gentle hand on Chi Cheng’s head, fingers threading through messy hair. “You worked hard…” he murmured, almost shyly. Chi Cheng made a pleased sound, nuzzling into the touch like a tired dog who finally found home.
And just like that, Wu Suowei knew:
He was so not escaping this man.
******
Wu Suowei had never known true exhaustion until now.
Not the kind that came from physical exertion. No, this was spiritual fatigue — the kind you earned after five straight days of pretending to be allergic to sex while your boyfriend looked at you like you invented the moon.
He was currently sitting on the bathroom floor in his Garfield socks and a robe made of an old curtain, sipping lukewarm ginseng tea through a silly straw because Xiaoshuai said “straws redirect lustful chi.”
The tactics were piling up:
Morning yoga on the balcony, clay mask cracking like tectonic plates.
“I have gluteal arrhythmia” lies told with a straight face.
Crocs. With frog charms.
A balaclava.
And yet.
Every time Chi Cheng walked in the door, the man looked at him like he was the only thing on Earth that mattered.
I’m not winning, Suowei thought bleakly. I’m not even drawing.
He stared into his reflection — dead eyes, facial mask, oversized sleep shirt that said “NO THOTS JUST SOUP.”
“If this doesn’t work,” he muttered, “I’ll have to start hissing at him.”
Suowei was in tree pose again.
Cracked clay mask. Herbal paste behind his ears. “Chakra-aligning” playlist playing softly on a Bluetooth speaker Xiaoshuai had labeled ‘Repel Cheng.mp3’.
The air smelled like lavender and mild regret.
But Suowei felt… ready. Resolved. This was it. He would radiate Anti-Horny Energy so powerfully that Chi Cheng would be struck down by celibacy.
And then the balcony door slid open behind him.
“You’re up early again,” Cheng said, voice warm, a little raspy with sleep.
Suowei didn’t turn. He exhaled slowly. Focused on his breath. Centered himself.
“I’m recharging my spiritual shields,” he said evenly. “Don’t come closer.”
Footsteps approached anyway.
Chi Cheng moved like he always did — softly, confidently, like the world would rearrange itself to make room for him.
“You’ve been doing a lot of this lately,” Cheng murmured, coming to stand behind him. “Worried about your aura?”
“I’m cleansing it of… impure vibrations,” Suowei lied.
“Want me to help?”
That made Suowei snap. He whirled around.
“No,” he said sharply. “You are the impure vibration!”
Chi Cheng blinked and raised his eyebrows.
Then—grinned.
“You’re really cute when you’re spiritually hostile.”
Suowei shrieked internally.
*******
Fifteen minutes later, he was pacing the apartment like a man unraveling.
Nothing works. NOTHING.
He’d worn socks with toe separators. Tried speaking only in haikus. Burned sage. Last night, he ate garlic raw before bed and tried to fake-sleep through a goodnight kiss.
Chi Cheng kissed his temple anyway.
Said: “You smell like soup. I love it.”
Soup?? Love?? Is that man okay??
Suowei grabbed his phone and opened WeChat with a vengeance.
Emotional Support — Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Wu Suowei
I wore the outfit. I played the bowls. I even meditated in front of the refrigerator. But this man refused to look away from me even once. He looks at me like I plucked the stars and handed them to him.
Xiaoshuai
Bro 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Guo Chengyu
You realize you’re not gonna win this war, right?
*********
It was night and the room was candlelit, not in an aesthetically pleasing way but in a someone is about to cast a mage spell or summon Satan kind of way.
Suowei sat cross-legged on the carpet, surrounded by dried herbs, a vintage electric fan (for “dispersing lust clouds”), and a little sign that said:
“DO NOT TOUCH. UNDERGOING AUSTERITY.”
He was wearing a custom outfit from Xiaoshuai’s “Cursed Monk Collection” — layers of beige, loose cotton, a shawl over his head, plus cucumber slices taped to his temples with scotch tape.
And, as the final nail in the coffin of desire, he was chanting:
“Go away, demon of lust. Go away, you hoee, taking over my boyfriend.”
And just then the front door clicked open and Chi Cheng stepped inside and paused, blinking like his brain had disconnected from reality. The scene before him looked like a rejected exorcism scene from a student film.
Suowei stared back at him like a raccoon caught in a spiritual garbage raid.
“What in the world are you trying to pull off this time?... I'm genuinely concerned…” Cheng's brow knitted in confusion.
“I’ve entered withdrawal,” Suowei whispered.
Cheng set his bag down gently. Walked over. Knelt beside him.
“From what?”
“From your… wicked hands.”
Chi Cheng tilted his head. His smile was so soft it hurt.
“You mean my affectionate hands?”
“THEY’RE CORRUPTING ME. YOU ARE A BEAST WITH NO CONTROL BUTTON INSTALLED IN YOUR SYSTEM!”
A long pause. Cheng visibly struggled not to burst out laughing.
Composing himself, he spoke, his words were nothing more than a hush.
“Weiwei…”
“Don’t call me that.” Suowei hissed, deeply offended.
“You’re literally wearing tea bags as earrings. You look like a clown more than a monk, Dabao.”
“Shut up. They’re symbolic.”
Chi Cheng reached out—slowly—and took Suowei’s hand. Suowei didn’t fight it, but he glared at the vintage fan like it had failed him personally.
“I know what you’ve been doing,” Cheng said gently.
Suowei froze. He could feel the erratic thumping of his heart.
“What?”
“You’re scared I’ll only want you for one thing, right?”
Suowei looked away. Cheng gently squeezed his fingers.
“Dabao… if you think I'm keeping you around just for sex, then I wouldn't be constantly looking for reasons, excuses, and dumb little errands just to spend time with you. Just me and you, breathing the same air.”
He paused and let the words settle between them.
“You might not know but let me tell you that you've captured my heart in a way that makes it impossible for me to even think of anyone else but you. Even if it tried to.”
He continued softly.
“I didn't fall for your looks. I fell for your heart and your ridiculous, chaotic soul. The way you wear floral shorts or the way you cannot stop talking. Looks and curves were just a bonus. A cherry on top. Do you think I handled all your tantrums, the way you made me wait, just for the only reason to have you in my bed?”
He shook his head.
“No. it was the fact that I wanted to spend and share my life with you till the light in my eyes faded away, Dabao.”
Suowei’s eyes were wide, but Cheng wasn’t done.
“I love every single version of you. The sexy you. The way your ass jiggles. The way my hands perfectly fit your waist.”
Suowei turned to face Cheng and glared at him with his cheeks flaming from embarrassment and flattery.
Chi Cheng just grinned, leaned in, and gently booped their noses. “I love it even when you are gross. Even when you smell like garlic. Even when you yell at me or pull angry tantrums. Even if you wear layers of clothes thinking it could somehow turn me off.”
He chuckled softly and brought up his other hand to stroke his cheekbone. “Newsflash: it doesn't.”
“...That’s because you’re possessed by sex demon,” Suowei muttered. But his voice had gone soft.
Cheng leaned forward and rested his forehead against Suowei’s.
“It’s true that I get horny whenever I see you. It's true that I want you, carnally. But even more than that—I want you. I want to be with you, listen to your endless yap, carry your shopping bags, weather your tantrums, and love you more and more, every day.”
A silence stretched between them. Candles flickered. The cucumber slice on Suowei’s temple slowly peeled off and fell into his lap.
Suowei let out a long, resigned sigh.
“I’ve gone feral for nothing.”
“You’ve gone feral beautifully,” Cheng said.
“But still, no touching my ass. I'm still recovering.”
“Pfft yeah, yeah.”
Later That Night
Emotional Support — Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Wu Suowei
I wore socks with rubber ducks. I chanted in front of an air fryer.
I told him I had butt arrhythmia.
This man still held my hand and told me he loved me.
Xiaoshuai
…so basically, he's whipped for you in every language mankind has ever known?
Guo Chengyu
He has been whipped for Wei since forever.
Wu Suowei
yeah. and maybe I’m doomed. But in a nice way tho
*************
There are many kinds of breakdowns.
The slow-burn type, like a leaking faucet of doom. The sudden, explosive kind that hits you mid-bite of toast. And then there’s the Suowei Special — a dramatic unraveling that involves bubble tea, a foot bath, and approximately eight forms of denial.
He sat on the couch wearing his least desirable hoodie (neon green, crusty sleeves, says “I <3 Rotting”) and an expression of spiritual defeat.
Chi Cheng had just left for the gym.
Before he left, he kissed Suowei’s temple and said, “Rest well, my little overcooked dumpling.”
As the door shut, Suowei stared into the void.
“I don’t want to be a dumpling,” he whispered to no one. Then, louder:
“I’M GOING CRAZY! AT FIRST I WANTED HIM TO STAY AWAY—NOW THAT HE’S ACTUALLY LISTENING, I FEEL ABANDONED! I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WANT ANYMORE!”
He pulled out his hair in frustration.
Then, with a mournful sigh, he turned on the foot bath in front of him.
Because here was the worst part: Chi Cheng had brought it home for him.
Because of Suowei's fake medical condition which he used to keep Chi Cheng away, this man had actually did the research and responded to it by buying:
A collapsible foot bath with jets. Lavender epsom salts. Heated knee wraps. A vitamin pill box shaped like a heart
Suowei was supposed to be tricking his boyfriend. Instead, he was soaking in the consequences of his own lies.
The bubbles gurgled mockingly.
Emotional Support — Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Wu Suowei
He bought me a gout foot bath.
A premium one. With temperature settings.
For my FAKE illness.
That I MADE UP to stop him from jumping me.
I’M THE VILLAIN.
Xiaoshuai
You told him you had ASS ARRHYTHMIA
And this man said “Okay babe I’ll support your journey 🥺”
Oh my god, I genuinely feel bad for pulling this stunt with you. He genuinely loves you, you stupid.
Wu Suowei
Do you think I don't know that?!!
Guo Chengyu
Lmao, the climax of this is peak comedy.
Wu Suowei
HE BOUGHT ME A BAG OF PEACH RINGS
I SAID MY BLOOD SUGAR WAS “TOO DELICATE FOR SEXUAL ACTIVITY”
AND HE SAID “YOU NEED SUGAR THEN”
AND BROUGHT HOME CANDY
Xiaoshuai
😭😭😭😭
Guo Chengyu
Just accept your fate. He won't be letting go of you in this lifetime, Wei. Goodluck. 😂
******
By 9pm, the guilt had metastasized into an emotional tumor sitting squarely in Suowei’s chest.
He couldn’t even look at Chi Cheng anymore without feeling like the human embodiment of a wet paper napkin. And it didn’t help that Cheng kept walking around in low-slung sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, humming under his breath and looking like a man built out of longing and home-cooked meals.
“You okay?” Cheng asked softly. The invisible dark clouds of gloom hovering over Suowei's head didn't go unnoticed by him.
Suowei stared at him, haunted.
“Peach rings,” Suowei replied blankly.
“...What?”
“They’re too sweet. I hate them.”
Chi Cheng blinked. Then he nodded, a little confused, and padded into the kitchen. To wash the dishes.
Suowei excused himself and immediately went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. Not to use it. Just to sit.
He turned off the lights.
“I’m unraveling,” he whispered to the void.
His legs were trembling from psychic tension. From guilt consuming him like a plague of tender-hearted locusts.
He pulled out his phone and did what anyone would do in a crisis:
Text his emotional support gremlin.
Ride or Die
Wu Suowei
Help me… I don't know what I want anymore. He's too sweet. Too gentle. Too horny. Too caring. Too patient…
I’m scared if I cry he’ll bring me soup and kiss my forehead.
I CAN’T LIVE LIKE THIS.
Xiaoshuai
okay. breathe
let’s real talk for a second.
…do you actually not want to have sex?
or do you just want control over when it happens?
Wu Suowei's eyes widened in realization. The words hit him like a divine scroll being unrolled inside his brain. What Shuai mentioned clicked something in him. Now it made sense. It wasn't that he didn't want to have sex but more like he didn't want to have it every other minute like a sex-deprived maniac.
Wu Suowei
…shit. Thanks bae!!
Chi Cheng, having finished tidying up, wandered into the bedroom to check on his boyfriend.
He was flopped on the bed chuckling softly at reels of cats falling into bathtubs. He looked up when the bathroom door creaked open.
“Hey,” he said gently. “Did you poop out your demons?”
“Shut up,” Suowei muttered.
He stood at the edge of the bed in his raccoon hoodie and mismatched socks. Then he sighed — loud, dramatic, the sound of a man finally dropping the towel to call a truce.
“Okay…” he said. “So I may have overreacted.”
Chi Cheng blinked. He sat up slowly not understanding the meaning behind those words.
“About…?”
“Everything. The yoga. The gout. The face masks. The chanting—”
“You were doing all that… on purpose?” Cheng’s voice unintentionally came out sharp.
Suowei winced. He dropped his gaze to his foot.
“Yeah. I’m sorry…”
The tension was thick in the air. Chi Cheng didn't reply for a moment. Then he laughed — quietly at first, then harder. Until he was howling, head thrown back against the pillow, shoulders shaking.
“OH MY GOD,” he wheezed. “You were trying to repel me? That's hilarious!”
“IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SEXORCISM!” Suowei snapped, mortified.
Chi Cheng laughed even harder. Suowei stared at him like he was an unsolvable riddle. This wasn't the expected reaction. He expected a cold shoulder or words of anger. But none of those came.
And when Chi Cheng finally calmed from his hysterics he looked at Suowei with nothing but affection.
“You're adorable.”
“No, it’s manipulative. I’m a menace. You should be angry at me! Shout at me! File a case for faking a medical condition…” Wei's voice was getting smaller and smaller with each word.
Cheng reached out, grabbed Suowei’s hand, and pulled him down onto the bed.
“Suowei,” he said softly, pressing his forehead against his. “Yeah, it could’ve made me upset… but I get it. I should’ve thought about your stamina too.”
He cupped his boyfriend’s face, brushing a thumb over his cheek.
“And baobei… you know that you’re allowed to say no, right? You don’t need to cosplay as a monk or fake an ass disease.”
Suowei let out a breath. His body relaxed for the first time all week.
“I just… didn’t want to feel like a walking hole,” he mumbled. “Like sex was the only thing on your mind. Even if I like it. Sometimes I want, like, a… reservation system. Or a calendar. Just something where I get to be in charge too. You always jump on me out of nowhere.”
Chi Cheng brought Suowei's hands to his lips and kissed his knuckles one by one.
“Then let's make one.”
Suowei blinked. He pouted. Then squinted suspiciously.
“What, like a spreadsheet?”
“No, like a sticker chart. Like how parents do it for kids, something like that.”
“You want to gamify our sex life?”
“Mhm hm, why not? You get control. I get stickers. Everyone wins.”
Suowei wasted no time and grabbed his phone, opening the notes app and typing aggressively into it. After typing it down for a few minutes, he showed the phone screen to Cheng.
Green = Go
Yellow = Only if bribed
Red = Do NOT attempt. I will evaporate.
Chi Cheng chuckled softly and nodded at that. “I’m gonna print and laminate it.”
In the groupchat, next day
Emotional Support — Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Guo Chengyu
Cheng showed me the chart. He carries it in his WALLET
Xiaoshuai
THAT MAN IS SO DOWN BAD 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 BUT NOT AS MUCH AS MY CHENGYU.
Guo Chengyu
That means… can I get a kiss tonight?
Xiaoshuai
Only if you cook for me <33
**********
Wu Suowei sat on the kitchen floor eating a peeled orange with chopsticks.
The room was dimly lit by the flicker of the fridge light — the door left slightly ajar, casting its cold glow across the tiles like the aftermath of an alien abduction. Chi Cheng was asleep, for now. Sprawled across their bed like a shirtless sculpture of danger and devotion.
Suowei had come out for “water.” He had ended up peeling oranges like it was an act of penance.
On the fridge hung the chart — laminated, glossy, and adorned with a truly unfortunate cartoon version of his own face giving a thumbs up.
There were three columns:
Green = Go
Yellow = Only if bribed
Red = Do NOT attempt. I will evaporate.
There were even tiny sticker sheets attached with emojis. Cheng had insisted on using glitter pens for “visual feedback.”
“You can also give me review stars,” Cheng had said brightly. “Like Uber.”
Suowei, at the time, had muttered something about rating him “zero for emotional terrorism.” But now… now he just stared at the chart and felt a weight in his chest.
The dangerous kind. The one that whispered You’re in love with this man. And you’re just as down bad as he is.
He remembers what happened earlier this day
Flashback:
They’d gone to a cafe. To have a casual date after a week full of emotional disasters. Suowei had tried to be casual about the whole “chart” thing, sipping an oat milk latte like he hadn’t been pretending to have ass gout two days prior.
Chi Cheng had looked over the sticker colors seriously, tapping his chin like a military general reading a war map.
“So, just so I’m clear… green means I can ravish you. Yellow means I have to earn it. Red means I should go to church.”
“Basically.”
“What about orange?”
“Orange doesn’t exist.”
“What if you’re feeling orange?”
“Then I’m indecisive and emotionally fragile, and you should cook for me, massage my feet and wait.”
“Noted.”
He’d taken out a pen and physically written that down in a notebook labeled “Suowei Logistics.”
And Suowei's heart ached in the sweetest possible way.
Suowei stared at Chi Cheng — at his messy hair and stupid hot cheekbones and the way he was writing it down like it actually mattered, like it was sacred scripture — and realized he had lost.
Completely, utterly, gloriously lost. If he wasn't so sure about his growing love towards Chi Cheng before, he was now totally sure.
Flashback ends.
“I love him,” Suowei whispered to the peeled orange.
The orange, unbothered, remained silent.
He sighed. Loudly. Then went to the bedroom, opened the door gently, and crawled into bed beside Cheng like a raccoon returning to the cave after stealing emotional garbage.
Chi Cheng stirred.
“You good?” he mumbled, eyes still closed.
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you have a spiritual revelation again?”
“Yeah.”
Chi Cheng blindly reached out and pulled Suowei flush against him.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Suowei stared at the ceiling. Then, softly:
“I think I need to admit something.”
Chi Cheng cracked open one eye. “What, that you actually liked the foot bath?”
“Shut up.”
There was a tiny pause.
“It’s worse,” Suowei said. “I think… I like you liking me. Like, a lot. Like, obsessively. Inconveniently. In ways that ruin my plans. And more than that I realise I love you unhealthy amounts. Even if I try to push you away, it physically hurts me to stay away from you. I love you and the way you love me. Even when it’s too much.”
Chi Cheng blinked.
“Okay.”
“Okay?? That’s all?”
“Well, yeah. Of course you like it. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I’m supposed to be normal and emotionally consistent.”
Cheng snorted softly.
“Weiwei, you once faked a vow of celibacy enforced by yoga demons. You’re about as emotionally consistent as a rubber band on fire.”
Suowei made a wounded noise and buried his face in the pillow.
Cheng wrapped both arms around him, warm hands steady on his back.
“You don’t have to earn being wanted,” he said gently. “Or schedule love like a tax form. I’m not keeping a scoreboard. I want you even when you’re moody and weird and whispering to fruit.”
Suowei let out a shaky breath. The tightness in his chest loosened. He curled into Cheng’s arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“We are still using the chart, though,” he mumbled.
“Obviously.”
“Do you really carry it in your wallet?”
“Only because I care about you and care about the things you care about, Dabao.”
Suowei groaned and threw a pillow at him.
Emotional Support — Members: Wu Suowei, Xiaoshuai, Guo Chengyu
Wu Suowei
Had a feelings breakdown
Told Cheng I like being wanted
He said “Yeah I know”
I’m sick
Xiaoshuai
You’re not sick you’re just in love
Welcome to hell
Guo Chengyu
I can’t believe I got to watch this god-tier hypocrisy
Wu Suowei
Shut up. I’m spooning him.
His back is hot like a rotisserie chicken.
Xiaoshuai
Please never text that again
*********
The next morning
Wu Suowei woke up with a sticky note on his forehead.
It read:
🟢 = Morning kisses
🟡 = Make you breakfast first
🔴 = I will behave, but I demand cuddles
He peeled it off and smiled like an idiot.
Yeah. He could survive this.
The sex, the love, the stickers, and Chi Cheng.
Because now that he had Chi Cheng, he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Bonus:
Chi Cheng wasn’t stupid.
Contrary to what his boyfriend’s recent suffering implied. Cheng was, in fact, a relatively rational man. He just had a lot of energy. And when he liked something — a meal, a car, a snake, a piano solo on a Wednesday morning — he had a tendency to go a little overboard. That was all.
So when Wu Suowei finally stopped keeping him at arm’s length and let him into his bed, his life, and (if we’re being explicit) every inch of his existence, Chi Cheng celebrated.
Repeatedly. Enthusiastically. Possibly too enthusiastically.
Okay. Definitely too enthusiastically.
He remembered the moment the tide shifted.
It was around Day 3 of their newly-minted physical relationship. Suowei, hair flattened from a nap and eyes still glazed with sleep, had rolled over, squinted at him, and muttered with terrifying sincerity:
“If you try to put anything in me before I’ve had noodles, I will start crying. Loudly.”
It had sounded like a threat. And Chi Cheng — a man of both libido and loyalty — immediately began researching coaxing grumpy wife recipes.
Then the games began.
The yoga.
The face masks that made Suowei look like a melting shrimp.
The high school track suits, the Crocs, the balaclava.
Suowei claimed to be entering a celibate era.
Xiaoshuai claimed it was for Suowei’s spiritual protection.
Guo Chengyu claimed it was fucking hilarious.
Whereas Chi Cheng was perplexed.
He didn’t know if he was being rejected or hazed. All he knew was, one minute his boyfriend was whispering, “Don’t stop,” and the next, he was chanting mantras and googling “sex-neutral paint colors.”
But Chi Cheng wasn’t the sulking type. He adapted.
He made foot baths. Waited at the door with soy milk and exactly zero expectations. He learned to stay soft when he still wanted. He learned the pleasure of being patient.
And he noticed something: the way Suowei looked at him during those moments. When he was gentle. When he didn’t ask. When he was still Cheng, just… quieter.
And that — somehow — did more to his heart than all the naked wrestling ever could.
So Cheng got creative.
He laminated a chart. Color-coded Suowei’s moods. Bought stickers. Printed custom coupons that read things like:
“Redeem for One Hour of Slow Kisses and Minimal Grinding”
He called it “Suowei's Access Board.”
Suowei called it insane.
Then he cried laughing for fifteen straight minutes and kissed Chi Cheng until he forgot his own name.
Victory.
The first time Suowei used a green sticker without being prompted, Cheng had nearly passed out. Not from horniness — well, not just that — but from pure, crushing affection.
He tucked the sticker chart into his wallet. Because Wu Suowei, frankly, meant more than anything he valued in his life.
And because if anyone ever questioned whether he was whipped, Cheng wanted the receipts.
Because he was.
Whipped. Bound. Enthusiastically leashed.
Now, Chi Cheng knew he was still a lot. He liked being a lot. But Suowei had taught him the one thing he didn’t know he was missing:
Pacing.
Because love wasn’t just about hunger.
It was like taking someone you care about to dinner — reading the menu for their favorites, checking for allergies, letting them chew.
Chi Cheng could do that. He could be gentle and soft. He could even fold towels.
(…Once he learned how to fold towels.)
He rolled over in bed, phone slipping from his hand. Suowei was snoring softly beside him, curled up in a balaclava he now wore ironically, like a ferret that had seen too much war.
And Cheng realised he'd never been more in love.
Because here was living proof that someone could call him out, wear horrifying footwear, and still make him feel like the luckiest idiot on earth.
He kissed the top of Suowei’s head.
“Green day tomorrow,” he whispered into the dark.
Suowei kicked him in his sleep.
Chi Cheng grinned.
The plan had both failed and succeeded at the same time — which, in their relationship, was about as good as it got. What mattered was that it brought them closer. It made them laugh. And more than anything, they were better now. Happier.
…Which is why Cheng — sweet, deranged, ever-hopeful Cheng — whispered, one last time:
“So the next time I get a green… can I go up to five times? 🥺”
“CHI CHENG!”