Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Li Ming spends the remaining ride to Heart’s home trying to avoid an inevitable adrenaline crash.

By the time he finally makes his way through the door to their house, the skin of Li Ming’s hands feel stretched on too tight from where he was painfully gripping the handles of Saleng’s bike too tightly, and his breath comes out in quick bursts.

Heart’s seated at his dining table, but his eyes widen and he jumps up the moment Li Ming steps into the space. Li Ming doesn’t know what expression he’s supporting, but it must be rough enough that Heart is rushing over and grabbing Li Ming’s wrist gently, slightly frantic.

I’m okay, Li Ming signs, and then once again with more emphasis when Heart shakes his head at him, clearly not believing Li Ming.

Heart tugs him over to the couch, planting his hands gently on Li Ming’s shoulders to get him to sit properly, snatching the notebook and writing a succinct: What’s wrong?

Li Ming shrugs, letting go of a shuddering breath, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. When Li Ming shakes his head, Heart only frowns, tapping the notebook lightly on Li Ming’s hand to get him to take it.

Li Ming reluctantly does, writing for a few moments, sliding the notebook back with a twist of his mouth.

Car got too close to my wheel. I think he was drinking. Don’t know who it was. It almost I’m fine.   I don’t

Heart looks up sharply, and it takes a moment of Li Ming to realize that Heart is visibly searching for signs of injury.

It unravels the knot in Li Ming’s chest slightly, and he huffs a laugh. He writes: I’m not lying. I’m fine.

Heart—What car was it? My dad will help you find the person.

At that, Li Ming startles enough that Heart instinctively reaches forward, curling a hand around Li Ming’s forearm, steadying him.

Li Ming just shakes his head repeatedly, much to Heart’s irritation.

Heart scribbles with an unsteady hand—They were drinking and almost hit you!!

Li Ming only slouches into the couch, closing his eyes for a long moment and leaning his head back. After a moment of deliberation, Heart reaches his hand forward and settles it carefully on Li Ming’s knee, to which Li Ming glances back at him for.

Li Ming—You can’t tell him.

Heart knows Li Ming is stubborn, but he needs Li Ming to follow his advice for this. Heart’s grip on Li Ming’s knee tightens, and he glares a bit. Li Ming shakes his head.

Li Ming—Nothing happened. Don’t tell your dad.

Heart doesn’t bother writing anything in return; he only takes his hand back and shifts until he’s glaring a hole into the television instead. If Li Ming wanted to be stubborn, then two could play this game.

They make it through several minutes of Heart refusing to meet Li Ming’s eye before Li Ming visibly sighs, waving Heart’s attention back, his teeth worrying away at his lip.

Li Ming—If I tell you this, you can’t tell anyone. You can’t tell your dad.

Heart balks at that, but nods carefully all the same.

Li Ming holds a pinky up, looking at Heart meaningfully.

“Promise me,” Li Ming mouths, and Heart links his pinky with Li Ming’s, though hesitant.

Li Ming curls his shoulders in as he writes on a new sheet of the page.

You can’t I don’t have a license.

Glancing over at Heart, Li Ming shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly, and continues to write: Car insurance rates are bad.

Heart doesn’t write back immediately. He’s thinking too fast—could Li Ming at the very least get himself a motor license? How long could he reasonably forgo insurance, nevermind a license? If he offered to split his dinner allowance with Li Ming once more, would he react negatively again?—but as Li Ming’s expression grows more apprehensive, there’s only one thing Heart knows to write for sure.

I won’t tell anyone, promise.