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The morning after the night before, Chengyu woke him up with a kiss on the forehead. The sunlight was streaming through the curtains, soft and airy, and Chengyu’s bed was huge and warm. His fingers trailed featherlight along the curve of Xiaoshuai’s cheek, across his jaw, warm palm cupping his neck.
The kiss was soft, sweet. Just as gentle as Chengyu had been the day before. Xiaoshuai found himself smiling up into it, winding his arms around Chengyu’s neck. He pulled him down, using the surprise to nearly topple Chengyu over and on top of him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck to deepen the kiss.
I want you, he thought, almost giddy with it. I want this.
And Chengyu wanted him. Just him, apparently, with a focus that shook Xiaoshuai to his core.
“Morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing Chengyu’s.
“Morning,” Chengyu replied. “Sleep well?”
Xiaoshuai nodded, letting his hands slip exploratorily down Chengyu’s chest.
The power had come back on after the first time on the couch, when Chengyu had been in the middle of carrying Xiaoshuai, princess style, to his huge bed, Xiaoshuai laughing breathlessly, gone completely limp with bliss.
A click, a buzz, and all the lights flickered back on, just like magic. Xiaoshuai looked up, a content smile curving across his lips, and hid his face in the crook of Chengyu’s neck.
“I’m not scared anymore,” he’d repeated, half to himself, his lips brushing Chengyu’s throat just to feel him shiver. A pause and then Chengyu hefted him higher, pressing a kiss against the top of his head.
Now Chengyu led him towards the kitchen, holding his hand. Unnecessary – but warm. Xiaoshuai didn’t think he could stop smiling if he tried.
Xiaoshuai watched as Chengyu moved around the kitchen, making them breakfast, and a whole new wave of fondness broke over him, the kind of happiness that made his eyes prickle at the corners. It felt like too much, affection brimming inside him, like he could barely hold onto all of it.
“Would you have really watched all four episodes last night?” Xiaoshuai asked, teasing, and Chengyu shot him a mock offended look.
“Of course!” he said. “Who do you take me for? If you wanted to just watch them, I’d have definitely watched them with you!”
And Xiaoshuai smiled, shaking his head, unable to help the sheer happiness bubbling up inside of him.
“Do you want to watch them?” Chengyu asked, gesturing with one long arm towards the living room. “We’ll watch them right now—”
Whatever he was about to say next was cut off as Xiaoshuai rocked up on the tips of his toes and kissed him.
Chengyu had been patient. Incredibly so.
At first, he’d felt like a snake lying in wait, getting ready to strike. Xiaoshuai had felt like he had to stay on his toes, to keep his guard up. He’d thought he knew exactly who Chengyu was. And at the very beginning Chengyu hadn’t given him much of a reason to think differently.
And then, gradually, things shifted.
A meal with no other expectations. Safe arms anchoring him when he was terrified Suowei would die. Patient hands tending to his wound. “Does it hurt? I’ll be gentler.” Food delivered to the clinic. Company when he had expected to be all alone. Being vulnerable and under the influence not once but twice with a man who refused to take advantage. “I didn't touch you that night.” It went against all of his expectations.
Someone who wanted to defend him. Someone who had heard what he wanted and delivered justice. And someone who, after that, hadn’t asked for anything more than his presence.
It was different from anything Xiaoshuai had ever known before. Patient, steady. Undemanding.
And he made him happy. He hadn’t known he could be so happy just by being with someone else.
Sometimes, he felt too good to be true. Sometimes, Xiaoshuai remembered the last time a man had been so attentive to him, so seemingly kind – until he wasn’t. Sometimes, his chest felt too tight.
He’s not like Meng Tao, he told himself, and he believed it.
Sometimes, though, late at night, Chengyu’s arm felt too heavy where it was slung across his waist.
Chengyu had been incredibly patient.
But what if one day, that poisonous little voice in his mind whispered, he stops.
“So… he’s being romantic?” Suowei said, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes!” Xiaoshuai said.
“And that’s… a problem.”
Suowei looked concerned, but not like he sympathized with Xiaoshuai’s plight. More like he was wondering if Xiaoshuai had been hit on the head.
Xiaoshuai sighed, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He adjusted his glasses for want of something to do with his hands.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said. “You’re not experienced enough.”
Suowei didn’t look convinced.
“The man worships the ground you walk on,” he said. “I saw him escort you over the world’s tiniest puddle once.”
Xiaoshuai made a face. It had been twice, actually, but Suowei didn’t need to know that.
“He’s so gentle with you!” Suowei whined. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, towards where Chi Cheng was smoking with Chengyu outside. “Meanwhile, that guy is mauling me every night.”
“You encourage it,” Xiaoshuai muttered under his breath.
Suowei waved the statement away like it was beside the point. He leaned forward, eyes wide and calculating.
“Did he do something to make you mad?” he asked.
“No,” Xiaoshuai grudgingly admitted. “It’s only…”
He trailed off, unsure how to voice it, if he even wanted to. Suowei already knew; he’d been there when Xiaoshuai saw the video of Meng Tao’s confession. He’d even held him while he cried.
Suowei wasn’t like any friend he’d ever had before. And Chengyu wasn’t like any man he’d known before, either.
“Do you ever feel like something is too good to be true?” he asked. Suowei’s eyes widened.
There was a box of exquisitely wrapped cupcakes sitting on the desk from a bakery that Xiaoshuai had looked at online for a total of two minutes over the weekend. The digital stalking probably should have been a concern, if Chengyu wasn’t so sweet about it all the time. Xiaoshuai plucked at the ribbon halfheartedly.
“Forget it,” he said. Except that he was the one who had forgotten who he was talking to: the same man who had started this all by watching him slap Chengyu and then begged him to teach him how to seduce men.
“You could test him,” Suowei said suddenly, leaning in close.
There was a glimmer in his eyes that, historically, had gotten them both into a lot of trouble.
Granted, it had also gotten Xiaoshuai a boyfriend. A handsome, generous, sweet boyfriend, whose biggest joy in life seemed to be attempting to spoil him.
It was a new, fluttering feeling, every time Chengyu did something small and kind, whether it was taking Xiaoshuai’s hand when his fingers were cold or remembering a certain dish he’d mentioned offhand and having it sent to the clinic. The way he reached over and pressed Xiaoshuai’s face against his shoulder the other night during a horror movie, shielding his eyes before a scare.
He hadn’t commented or laughed at him for being jumpy—just smiled, quietly amused, and tucked Xiaoshuai closer against his side. Warm, safe, secure.
What about your Mr. Right? Suowei had said once. Xiaoshuai wanted to believe that was Chengyu. That he’d really found the right man for him.
It was just – difficult, sometimes. Considering what had happened the last time he’d thought someone was the right man.
He glanced at the cupcakes, and then back at Suowei. He leaned forward.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Should I be concerned?” Chengyu mused, propping his chin up on one hand as he watched Suowei and Xiaoshuai furiously whisper to each other.
Chi Cheng looked up, eyeballed them for a moment, and then shrugged.
He clapped Chengyu on the shoulder, his face a mockery of consolation.
“Mine’s happy with me these days,” he said. “Too bad for you if you end up dead in a ditch.”
Chengyu scowled and snatched the cigarette out of Chi Cheng’s mouth, aggressively taking a drag.
The conspiracy board read Operation: Abstinence.
Xiaoshuai already had a headache.
“That’s your plan?” he said. “Don’t sleep with him? You launched a three-day mission to get me to sleep with him!”
Suowei sighed like he was the victim.
“That was then and this is now, Shifu,” he said.
“This is ridiculous.”
“This is art,” Suowei corrected.
“I’m not doing it,” Xiaoshuai told him. He crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t look at Suowei’s carefully crafted conspiracy board, complete with pictures of him and Chengyu.
There was also a snapshot of Suowei and Chi Cheng cuddling together on their couch, but Xiaoshuai thought that was just because Suowei liked looking at it.
For a whole thirty seconds, he didn’t look at it. It just sat there, in his peripheral vision, taunting him, until he gave in and stared at it again. It was really detailed, nearly as much as his own work. He was almost proud.
“You want to see how patient he is, right?” Suowei said. “To see if he’s really as good as he seems?”
Xiaoshuai worried at his bottom lip. After a moment, he nodded, and it felt vaguely like a betrayal. If he could tell no one else, though, he could tell Suowei. At this point their skeletons lived in the same closet.
Suowei seemed to get it. He leaned in close, his long fingers wrapping around Xiaoshuai’s wrist. He squeezed, his grip comforting.
“Besides. Wasn’t it you who once said the best way to keep a man is not to let him get too full?” Suowei asked, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. The gentle touch of his hand belied his words.
Xiaoshuai rolled his eyes.
“As if you’ve ever denied Chi Cheng,” he muttered, not quite under his breath.
“This isn’t about me,” Suowei said flippantly, because Xiaoshuai had apparently raised a monster.
He longed for the days when twenty seconds of pornography had sent Suowei screeching and dramatically covering his tender eyes. When a little heavy petting had sent him spiraling. When a single kiss from a man had seen him sprawled in bed with a fever.
Now he spent his weekends getting handcuffed to his and Chi Cheng’s ridiculous waterbed and he still had the nerve to lecture Xiaoshuai on how to blue ball his boyfriend.
“I did my job too well,” Xiaoshuai told him, raising his chin.
Suowei nodded in mock sympathy and slung an arm around his shoulders, giving him a consoling little pat on the arm.
“There, there,” he said, leaning their heads together. Xiaoshuai bit the inside of his cheek to smother his smile as Suowei gestured to the whiteboard in front of them. “Now focus. Here’s what you’re going to do…”
Chengyu was an excellent lover.
Every touch, every caress, every kiss made Xiaoshuai feel weak in the knees. Everything he did felt infused with caring. The way his hand skimmed across Xiaoshuai’s lower back in the kitchen while they were putting the dishes away. The press of his lips against the most sensitive part of his throat. The touch of his palms up underneath Xiaoshuai’s shirt, his touch teasing.
He never pushed. He never pressured. He let Xiaoshuai come to him and then he loved him in a way that erased the memories of anyone else.
(And when Xiaoshuai woke up in the middle of the night, a stifled gasp in his throat, his body frozen with old fear, Chengyu was there, too. He’d ease Xiaoshuai’s fingers from their grip on the sheets, massage his hands, whisper things like, you’re okay, it was just a dream, and I’m here.)
They were watching a movie, and it wasn’t particularly interesting. Xiaoshuai had already figured out the murderer, so he was sure Chengyu had, too. It didn’t matter very much; he was leaning against Chengyu’s chest, warm and comfortable, with one of Chengyu’s hands drifting idly up and down the outside of his thigh.
When he tipped his head back, he found Chengyu staring at him and not at the screen. There was a smile on his lips, like just looking at Xiaoshuai made him happy. Xiaoshuai’s heart thumped.
He reached up and back, guiding Chengyu’s face down until their lips met. The kiss started soft and slow, unhurried. Just the gentle press of their lips. Then Xiaoshuai’s lips parted on a sigh, his hand tangling in Chengyu’s hair as he pressed himself closer, practically in his lap. Little sounds escaped his mouth, his hands moving to frame Chengyu’s face, and Chengyu groaned in response. The movie was entirely forgotten.
But when Chengyu’s skilled hands started to drift lower, when he started to push Xiaoshuai back onto the couch, Xiaoshuai smacked a hand against his chest, halting him.
Chengyu’s face did something truly comical, his eyes widening. His whole body went completely still.
“Xiaoshuai?” he said.
“I’m tired,” Xiaoshuai lied, looking away. “I… don’t want to tonight.”
What he wanted was to climb Chengyu like a tree. He wanted to desecrate Chengyu’s pristine kitchen counters. He wanted to get fucked so hard he cried. But that wasn’t part of the plan.
He watched Chengyu blink, and then watched his expression soften. When he kissed Xiaoshuai next, it was achingly soft. Xiaoshuai thought longingly about the kitchen counter thing again.
Instead, Chengyu brought him into the world’s gentlest hug, like Xiaoshuai was made of glass. Like he was the softest thing Chengyu had ever held. His throat burned.
“We’ll just go to bed,” Chengyu soothed, rubbing circles on his back. “I won’t do anything, don’t worry.”
Xiaoshuai tightened his grip on Chengyu’s shirt, pressed his cheek to Chengyu’s shoulder, and screamed inside.
He was going to kill Suowei.
The next morning, he told himself the whole thing was ridiculous.
He’d got caught up in his own head, and then he’d let Suowei rope him into another misadventure. It was those big eyes, he told himself, splashing water on his face. It was so hard to say no to them, and Suowei knew it, too.
All Chengyu had done all night was hold him, just like he’d promised. In the morning he’d kissed him, and asked him what he wanted for breakfast, and that was that. Easy. Xiaoshuai had been ridiculous for ever thinking it would be otherwise.
Suowei dropped by the clinic at lunchtime, bearing snacks and a maniacal gleam in his eye.
“So?” he said as soon as they were sequestered alone in the room that had once been his bedroom. “How did it go?”
Grudgingly, Xiaoshuai told him everything.
“Perfect!” Suowei said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Now you have to up the ante.”
“Up the ante,” Xiaoshuai repeated, skeptical.
“One night isn’t enough to prove results,” Suowei told him. “You have to repeat the experiment!”
“Tell me the truth,” Xiaoshuai said, leveling him with a look. “Are you just bored?”
“I have my own drama,” Suowei told him, although Xiaoshuai couldn’t fathom what it could be, outside of begging Chi Cheng to let him top or trying to find a specific kind of plant for their snake’s luxury vivarium. “Yours is just a bonus.”
Domesticity had turned him into a monster.
It also looked good on him, but that was beside the point.
Before he could tell him that first part, Suowei slung an arm around his shoulder and leaned in close, cupping a hand to his ear before he proceeded to whisper the kind of thing that just a year ago would have made the man himself shriek. Xiaoshuai was almost impressed.
He turned wide eyes on him.
“Absolutely not,” he said.
Suowei looked like he’d expected that response. He clasped Xiaoshuai’s hands between both of his and gave him a meaningful look.
“Trust me,” he said. “This is the best way.”
“Would you do that to Chi Cheng?” Xiaoshuai demanded.
“Of course not!” Suowei said, sounding scandalized at the very idea. “He’d chain me to our bed for a year!”
“But it’s fine if I do it?” Xiaoshuai said, incredulous.
Suowei nodded decisively.
“Of course,” he said. “You won’t get chained to anything.”
Xiaoshuai wished he had his kind of faith.
It wasn’t exactly a matter of trust, because at the end of the day, he did trust Chengyu. When the chips were down, Chengyu had believed him, defended him, protected him. He'd claimed justice for him when Xiaoshuai had thought he would never receive it. And he still hadn’t laid a hand on him until Xiaoshuai was ready.
In many ways, he was the opposite of Meng Tao, who had hid his true self until it was far too late. With Chengyu, he’d watched as he changed for him, his sincerity and protectiveness blooming.
Part of him, though, still remembered the firebrand touch of Meng Tao’s hand on his waist, his breath on his throat, his own voice stuttering out Meng Tao, wait, and Meng Tao saying that if he really loved him, he’d do this for him.
And Xiaoshuai had loved him, so he had done it.
He didn’t want things to be like that again, no matter how much every rational bone in his body screamed that they wouldn’t be, that Chengyu wasn’t like that. He’d lived with those feelings long enough to know that rationality had little to do with it.
And that same part of him that remembered Meng Tao’s touch wanted to know what would happen if he pushed things further.
So he did what Suowei suggested: he upped the ante.
He pushed limits. He licked cake frosting from Chengyu’s fingers. He climbed into Chengyu’s lap and kissed him senseless.
And then, at the last second, he’d pull back.
There was something a little thrilling about watching Chengyu’s eyes darken with desire, only to watch him rein himself in a second later. The somewhat shaky breath, the way his fingers would flex at Xiaoshuai’s hip before he moved his hands up and pressed his lips to his cheek instead. Perfectly chaste.
The problem was he was starting to think he was testing himself just as much as Chengyu. It took him longer and longer every time to stop kissing him, a little voice inside him saying just another minute. When he’d pull back, away from Chengyu’s touch, everything in him would scream at him to stop being an idiot and climb him like a tree.
One night, he woke up from a dream about Chengyu over him on the sofa again, his lips on Xiaoshuai’s neck, his hands on his hips, Xiaoshuai’s legs falling open for him to get between. Chengyu always knew just where to touch, laser focused on what made Xiaoshuai feel good even, apparently, in his dreams.
An embarrassing little whine spilled from his lips before he could stop himself and he went completely still, hand clapped over his mouth and his face hot. But Chengyu didn’t so much as twitch behind him, his hand gently resting on Xiaoshuai’s waist and his breath soft against his hair, still asleep.
Xiaoshuai wriggled out from underneath his arm as gently as he could and fled for the bathroom.
Later, during lunch at the clinic, he put his head down on his crossed arms and groaned.
“I’m just torturing myself.”
He heard an approaching cheerful whistle and quickly sat up, pushing his glasses up his nose and doing his best to look busy. He only barely managed to flip a chart the right way up when Suowei leaned over his desk, looking alarmingly chipper.
Well, Xiaoshuai thought bitterly, staring at him all bright-eyed and bushytailed, at least one of them was still getting laid.
“Is it going good?” Suowei asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“Good,” Xiaoshuai replied stiffly, shuffling a stack of papers. “It’s going very well.”
Suowei flashed him a grin that was, frankly, obnoxious. Xiaoshuai glared at him, doing his best to transmit through thought alone that this was all his fault.
And meanwhile Chengyu didn’t seem to mind. Didn’t seem to notice, even. He acted like everything was normal.
That was what Xiaoshuai had wanted, wasn’t it? To prove that even denied, he would still be as kind and understanding as Xiaoshuai had come to expect? That, unlike Meng Tao, what he desired was really Xiaoshuai, and not just his own gratification?
But if it was what he wanted, then why did he feel so hollow?
Everything came to a head when there was an incident at the clinic.
It had happened before. People coming by the clinic, looking for someone. This time, it was the ex-boyfriend of a girl who had come in before with bruises all over her arms and legs.
The man wanted to know where she was. Xiaoshuai told him in no uncertain terms to get lost.
The ex-boyfriend didn’t like that reply. Xiaoshuai hadn’t thought he would. Still, getting violently shoved into his own medicine cabinet was a shock. It happened so fast that his head spun. One moment he was standing, and the next he was stumbling to the ground, catching himself painfully on his palms.
The sound of the confrontation drew Suowei, who’d been helping him with the inventory, out of the backroom. His wide eyes took in the scene before him, the fuming man and Xiaoshuai on the floor, the clinic’s supplies scattered all around him.
“Hey!” he barked.
The man turned on his heels and fled, Suowei starting after him before he changed his mind and doubled back to Xiaoshuai.
Xiaoshuai staggered to his feet, leaning against his desk. He mentally took note of himself—scraped palms, barked shins, an aching shoulder where he’d collided with the cabinet. His knees would be bruised tomorrow. He felt like his ears were ringing, but he hadn’t hit his head.
“Xiaoshuai,” Suowei said, bracing him against himself. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said. He hated how his voice shook, the trembling of his fingers. “I’m fine.”
Suowei pulled him against himself, steadying him. He wrapped an arm around him, glaring at the door like he wanted to personally give chase. Xiaoshuai grabbed a handful of his shirt before he got any ideas. Suowei grit his teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping, but he just cursed under his breath and turned back to Xiaoshuai.
Whatever he saw made his eyes fill with concern.
Without saying anything else, he reached into Xiaoshuai’s pocket and drew out his phone.
Chengyu dropped everything and came as soon as he heard.
“Want me to stay?” Suowei asked, hand on his arm, and Xiaoshuai shook his head, mustering up a smile.
“No, it’s fine,” he promised. “Go back. You’ve done more than enough.”
Suowei didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway. He whispered something to Chengyu before he left. To Xiaoshuai’s eye, it looked like take care of him.
It was silly. Nothing had really happened, and Xiaoshuai had dealt with worse before. Still, Chengyu sat him down behind his desk and got him water. He finished cleaning up the mess without allowing Xiaoshuai to help. And for the rest of the day, the remainder of Xiaoshuai’s appointments, he remained nearby like a guard, quietly working on his phone.
Most importantly, though, he held Xiaoshuai’s hand. Every time there was a spare, silent moment, he reached over and took it, his thumb rubbing gently across Xiaoshuai’s scraped palm.
There was a look in his eyes like he was already calculating the most efficient way to ruin the life of the man who had shoved him. For the sake of the girl, Xiaoshuai hoped he would.
Xiaoshuai squeezed his hand back, giving him a small smile. The ruthlessness in Chengyu’s eyes didn’t disappear, but it was overshadowed by the kind of affection that made Xiaoshuai feel warm all the way down to the pit of his stomach.
He took him home afterwards and made dinner while Xiaoshuai washed up. Fresh out of the shower, Xiaoshuai stood in his living room and watched him move about the kitchen, easy and self-assured.
He had no idea how Chengyu did it, how he managed to always know what he needed, when he needed it. A warm meal, company, a hand to hold.
They watched a movie after dinner, although Xiaoshuai couldn’t pay it much attention. He felt like he was buzzing all over, far too aware of the press of Chengyu’s body against his own where he was curled up against his side, one of Chengyu’s hands carefully carding through his hair.
“Want to go to bed?” Chengyu asked when the credits rolled. He stood, offering Xiaoshuai a hand.
He was tired, and his body ached, and he really did just want to go to bed with his boyfriend and let himself be held. But Chengyu had been so good, so steady. He’d been everything he needed. Xiaoshuai owed him this.
Chengyu blinked as Xiaoshuai leaned up on his toes. His hands slid up his chest to his broad shoulders, and he tilted his head to the side, sealing their lips together. Chengyu made a faint noise of surprise, his hands coming up to grip Xiaoshuai’s waist.
Xiaoshuai shivered. He could be good for Chengyu.
He pressed himself closer, clinging to Chengyu to keep his balance. He poured everything he had into the kiss, thinking of how Chengyu had come to the clinic as soon as Suowei called him, about the patient way he hadn’t left his side. The brush of his fingers and the way halfway through the movie he’d leaned over and kissed the top of Xiaoshuai’s head.
His chest felt tight, so he tilted his head and tried to coax Chengyu to kiss him deeper.
Chengyu’s hands drifted from his waist up to his shoulders.
“Baby,” he murmured, their noses brushing together as he broke the kiss. His voice was gentle, not heated, and something in his tone made Xiaoshuai’s stomach twist.
There was a cold feeling inside him, ice in his veins. He ignored it, trying to deepen the kiss again. His shoulder ached and his bruised knees protested, but he told himself it didn’t matter. He could tolerate it.
“Xiaoshuai,” Chengyu said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Stop.”
His voice was surprisingly firm. That, more than anything else, even more than the iron grip on his shoulders, made Xiaoshuai freeze. Chengyu never spoke like to him.
Something must have shown on his face, because Chengyu’s expression softened.
He squeezed his shoulders, his grip relaxing. He raised one hand to Xiaoshuai’s face, thumb brushing just beneath Xiaoshuai’s eye. The touch startled him; he hadn’t realized his lashes were wet.
“Stop,” he repeated, quieter now. “You’re hurting.”
“I’m not,” he protested, confused. “I’m… I…”
His hands were trembling. When did that start? he wondered, feeling faint and distant. He slid his shaking fingers down Chengyu’s chest, hooking them in his shirt to try and find some stability.
“I’ve got you,” Chengyu said, rubbing his shoulder. He swiped another tear away before it could fall. “I’ve got you, love. Just breathe with me.”
Xiaoshuai did, following him, feeling the even rise and fall of Chengyu’s chest beneath his palms. His throat felt tight.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice small. He really was, he thought. Then, “Why did you stop kissing me?”
Chengyu sucked in a breath like he’d been punched. He cupped Xiaoshuai’s face and pressed a fierce kiss to his forehead, to the space beside his eye, to the corner of his mouth. Sweet but fleeting. Achingly gentle. Everything Xiaoshuai needed and that just twisted up everything in his chest worse.
Then he pulled back. Xiaoshuai missed his warmth like a part of himself.
He watched as Chengyu folded himself down on the couch, one elbow braced against the armrest and one long leg thrown over the other. He looked troubled, and Xiaoshuai’s stomach sank knowing he was the one who had put that look on his face.
It was the opposite of what he’d wanted. Carefully, he sat down on the couch beside him, grabbing a throw pillow like a shield.
“Whatever you were scheming, I was happy to let you do it until you got whatever it is you needed,” Chengyu said, and Xiaoshuai looked up with wide eyes.
“You knew?” he croaked.
Chengyu scoffed and tapped him on the side of the head.
“Love,” he said. “Don’t kid yourself. I had you figured out from the time you sucked whipped cream off my finger and then claimed you ‘had a headache.’”
That had been mortifying. He’d had to hide away in the bathroom until he’d calmed down. And Chengyu had looked so concerned when he’d finally slunk out, had gently touched his face and fretted over him.
And all the while he’d known.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, hating the raw tone in his voice.
“I was waiting for you to come to me,” Chengyu said, like it was obvious.
“And if I didn’t?” Xiaoshuai said.
Chengyu sighed. His fingers twitched, like he wanted a cigarette, but he didn’t smoke in Xiaoshuai’s apartment. He’d never told him not to; it was just something he’d noticed when they were together.
“I’m not a monster, love,” he said, and he sounded suddenly tired. He wrapped his hands gently and loosely around Xiaoshuai’s wrists, just holding. “Not to you. If you need me to wait, I’ll wait.”
Xiaoshuai swallowed hard, looking away. I don’t need that, he wanted to say, but his throat felt too tight to speak. He pulled his hands away, clenching them in his lap.
“I’m a very patient man,” Chengyu said. “Especially when there’s someone worth waiting for.”
He reached out, like he was going to take Xiaoshuai’s hand again, but Xiaoshuai quickly snatched it away.
Surprise flickered over Chengyu’s face, there and gone in a second, but not quick enough that Xiaoshuai missed it. Good, he thought bitterly. At least he’d finally done something that surprised him.
He’d known. Nearly the whole time, he’d known, and he’d just let Xiaoshuai go ahead and make a fool of himself. His stomach twisted in a new way, and he had to swallow hard.
“Xiaoshuai,” Chengyu said, reaching for him again, and Xiaoshuai stood up before he could touch him.
“I’m going to Suowei’s,” he said, pressing his lips into a line. “Don’t follow me.”
He didn’t go to Suowei’s. He went to the clinic, and slept badly on what used to be Suowei’s bed, and woke up with his sore shoulder absolutely aching and every emotion in his chest all twisted up. He moved through his day mechanically, but he couldn't help glancing at the door. Chengyu never showed up, but then Xiaoshuai had been the one to tell him not to follow him.
That was where Suowei found him that evening, up on the clinic’s roof.
He didn’t turn around when he heard footsteps; he could recognize Suowei’s gate, the way he took the stairs two at a time.
He flopped down next to Xiaoshuai, sighing dramatically. He tilted his head to look at him, his lips pursed, something like worry in his big eyes.
“Your boyfriend is sulking in my apartment,” Suowei said.
You mean depraved sex dungeon, Xiaoshuai thought vindictively, but he didn’t say it, because he actually needed his best friend right now.
What they got up to on that ridiculous motorcycle, Xiaoshuai didn’t want to know, but Chengyu was going to have to disinfect any part of himself that so much as brushed it.
“He’s being maudlin at my boyfriend,” Suowei said, throwing himself down next to Xiaoshuai. “I had to get out of there. They were breaking out the same snake breeding stories for the hundredth time.”
Xiaoshuai snorted into his knees.
“Fine,” he said. “Let them be happy together with their snakes.”
“Shifu,” Suowei whined. “You’re breaking up my family.”
“You’ll survive.”
He sniffed, staring off into the distance, his arms wrapped around his knees. He and Suowei had sat up here together plenty of times. Celebrating, scheming, commiserating. He didn’t want to still feel alone when his best friend was right by his side.
“It’s my fault,” Suowei said after a long moment. “This scheme may have been… double layered.”
“Double layered?” Xiaoshuai repeated, glowering at him. “You schemed against me? Again?”
“I didn’t think you’d last this long!” Suowei complained, a whine edging into his voice. “I thought you’d fold like a wet paper towel the first day.”
Xiaoshuai smacked him on the arm. Suowei just laughed and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him against his side.
“You were getting too in your head,” he said, the absolute hypocrite. As if Xiaoshuai hadn’t had to coach him through his first vigorous round of handholding. He rubbed Xiaoshuai’s shoulder, though, and hummed softly. Xiaoshuai deeply resented how hard it was to stay mad at him.
“At least you didn’t try to drown yourself in my bathtub this time,” he said, sniffing.
Suowei continued to rub his shoulder consolingly. He didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty.
“You like him so much,” he said. “And he likes you so much. You told me it was good. That it was good every time. What’s the problem?”
Was it ridiculous to say that the problem was that there weren’t any problems? Xiaoshuai didn’t know anymore. It felt like the only thing more terrifying than Chengyu not being who he seemed was him being exactly what Xiaoshuai needed.
What had he ever done to deserve him?
“There isn't a problem,” he admitted, staring at his knees. “That's the problem. I'm... scared.”
Suowei didn't respond right away. He let Xiaoshuai sit with it, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on his shoulder. He didn't know what he’d done to deserve him, either.
“What did you tell me when I was scared?” Suowei asked, bumping their heads together.
“To quit while you were ahead?” Xiaoshuai asked, scrubbing at his face with the back of his sleeve.
Suowei smirked and tilted his head, squeezing Xiaoshuai’s hands.
“Did I listen?” he said.
Xiaoshuai snorted.
Suowei smiled, soft and sincere in the rooftop’s lights. He squeezed Xiaoshuai’s fingers.
“And I’m so happy now, Shifu,” he said. “I really am. I want you to be happy, too.”
“I am happy,” Xiaoshuai said. He bit his lip. “I’m really—he makes me so happy.”
“You know he’s different,” Suowei said, and Xiaoshuai sighed.
“I know he’s in your apartment, telling snake stories.”
“Exactly!” Suowei said. “Could you see your scumbag ex doing that?”
Xiaoshuai snorted and shook his head.
"He is different," he said. Then, with a conviction he never would have felt even a year ago, he added, "I'm different now, too."
Suowei slapped him on the back.
“Then go and get your man.”
Chengyu was in his apartment when he got back, which meant that either Suowei’s double-layered scheme was actually triple-layered, or Chi Cheng had hit the limits of how long he could go without bending Suowei over something. Xiaoshuai wasn’t going to think too hard about it. As long as they weren’t in his clinic again, it was fine.
“Baby,” Chengyu said, gesturing to the counter. “I brought reconciliation cake.”
Xiaoshuai huffed as he sat down on the couch.
“You can’t bribe me with cake,” he said, which was a lie. If the carefully neutral look on Chengyu’s face meant anything at all, they both knew it.
“It’s a peace offering with frosting, not a bribe.”
Xiaoshuai nodded, worrying at his fingernails.
“How much do you know about my relationship with Meng Tao?” he finally asked.
He wasn’t an idiot, no matter what he felt like in the moment. He knew it had to be more than just the broad strokes, the worst of it. Chengyu was thorough in everything he did. He would have found out little things, too, the kind of things Xiaoshuai had never told anyone.
Meng Tao, he knew with bitter surety, would have told him anything in an attempt to save his own self.
Chengyu circled around the couch, sitting opposite Xiaoshuai, giving him space. He was quiet for a moment, like he was weighing his next words.
“Enough to know I could have destroyed him a hundred times worse and it still wouldn’t have been enough,” he said.
Xiaoshuai exhaled. He grabbed a throw pillow, fiddling with the corner of it.
“He used to make me feel like I owed him,” he said. “Like everything I did was wrong, so I had to make it up to him somehow.”
When Chengyu didn’t say anything right away, Xiaoshuai glanced over at him. There was an unreadable look on his face, something heavy in his eyes. He had one hand raised, thumb absently playing with the ring around his index finger.
“Xiaoshuai,” he said. “Have I made you feel that way?”
Xiaoshuai shook his head.
“No, but I didn’t want to feel that way again,” he confessed. “I don’t know how to do this sometimes.”
“Well, accepting advice from Wu Suowei wasn’t the best idea.” Chengyu held up his hands when Xiaoshuai glared at him. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Forgive me, love. Your disciple is very wise and learned from the best.”
His disciple was at home probably chained to a waterbed and still about to be unbearably smug about fixing Xiaoshuai’s problems. Xiaoshuai didn’t want to think about it too much.
“I’m not used to… this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them.
Someone who stayed. Someone who cared. Someone who went along with a ridiculous, harebrained scheme just to give him enough time to sort out his feelings.
Chengyu didn’t ask what he meant.
“I know,” he said. He reached over and took Xiaoshuai’s hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “I want you to be, though. One day you’ll wake up and forget you ever weren’t used to it.”
In spite of himself, a smile pulled at Xiaoshuai’s lips, and he bit his cheek against it. When Chengyu said it, he could almost believe it.
“Come here,” Chengyu said.
Xiaoshuai moved closer, discarding the throw pillow between them.
“This,” Chengyu said, cradling Xiaoshuai’s face between his hands so Xiaoshuai had no choice but to look at him, “isn’t transactional. You don’t owe me anything for loving you.”
Xiaoshuai’s eyes burned with unshed tears. They were so close that Chengyu could have leaned in and kissed him, but instead he kept his gaze fixed on Xiaoshuai’s, waiting for him, just like he had that first night.
Xiaoshuai smiled, lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes, and leaned in to kiss him soft and sweet.
“You could get bored,” he whispered when they broke apart, blinking up at Chengyu.
“I wouldn’t,” Chengyu replied. Xiaoshuai’s throat felt tight.
“You could like someone else better someday.”
Chengyu’s gaze softened even further.
“I couldn’t.”
He leaned in, kissing Xiaoshuai quickly on the lips, the corner of his mouth, his cheek. He nuzzled at a spot behind his ear, nipped at his neck.
“For one thing,” he added, breath ghosting over Xiaoshuai’s skin, “the scheming keeps me on my toes.”
Xiaoshuai slapped him on the shoulder, laughing despite himself. Chengyu started laughing, too, like all that it took was Xiaoshuai giggling to get him to start.
When Xiaoshuai kissed him this time, it was still soft, still gentle, but deeper. He let his hands slip down Chengyu’s arms, fingertips skimming over his shoulders, to come rest at his chest. For a long, long moment, that was all they did: just kissed, exploratory, Xiaoshuai’s bitten off little noises swallowed by Chengyu as he brought him even closer.
“So…” Chengyu said when they broke apart, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. His fingers flexed at Xiaoshuai’s waist.
“Mm?” Xiaoshuai murmured, staring at his lips.
“Cake?” Chengyu asked, lips curving into a smirk.
Xiaoshuai snorted and pushed him down onto the sofa.
“Later.”
“So?”
“So, what?” Xiaoshuai said.
He was looking over the clinic’s inventory, taking notes. Beside him, Suowei had practically thrown himself over the desk, tilting his head at increasingly worrying angles to try and get a good look at his face.
“Just tell me!” he demanded. “How did it go? Did you make up?”
“We made up,” Xiaoshuai confirmed.
“How many times did you make up—”
Xiaoshuai threw a pen at him. Suowei snatched it out of the air and tucked it into his pocket.
“Thief.”
Suowei was quiet for a moment, which rarely boded well. But when Xiaoshuai glanced over at him, he was just smiling, watching him.
“You look happy,” he said.
“Mm,” Xiaoshuai said, turning back to the shelves. “No thanks to you.”
His tone was teasing, but Suowei still exclaimed in outrage.
“How could you say that?” he demanded, throwing himself back down on the desk. “It was my plan!”
Xiaoshuai tried to swallow down his laughter, but it was impossible. He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head, his smile so wide it almost hurt.
“I know,” he said. “Thank you, Da Wei.” When Suowei’s furious pout turned into a beaming smile, he added, “Not for the plan, but for everything else.”
The door opened, and Xiaoshuai turned around. His smile widened as he took in Chengyu’s tall figure.
“Ready?” he asked.
“In a minute,” Xiaoshuai replied. “I’m just finishing up.”
Suowei wasted no time in interrogating Chengyu while Xiaoshuai finished the last of his tasks and ducked into the backroom to change out his scrubs. He listened to Chengyu deflect him with half an ear, unable to stop smiling. When Suowei found out the restaurant they were going to, he pouted.
“Can’t you add me?” he asked.
“Get your own man to take you,” Chengyu scoffed, reaching out to pull Xiaoshuai to his side when he reappeared.
“Chi Cheng’s meeting a client,” Suowei grumbled. He looked between the two of them. “I engineered your relationship.”
“It’s mutual,” Xiaoshuai replied. Still, Chengyu promised they’d all go together in the future, and it made something warm bloom in Xiaoshuai’s chest, just behind his ribcage, even as Suowei sighed dramatically.
Just before they left, when Chengyu’s back was turned as he took a quick call, Suowei leaned in close so that only they could hear and whispered.
“I’m really happy for you.”
Xiaoshuai shook his head, looking down, unable to help the smile that spread across his lips again. He glanced at Chengyu, watching as he hung up his phone and looked back at Xiaoshuai, waiting for him.
“Want to hear a secret?” he whispered back. “I am, too.”