Chapter Text
Yetao is nervous about his very first live post CHUANG 2021.
He doesn’t know how everyone else does it, how Gengyin and Xinyao have continuously been uploading contents after contents, when Yetao seems to have forgotten how to even create a douyin video. He used to be so good at self-expression, and now every time he tries to post something, he always seems to come up with absolutely nothing.
None of his selfies, videos, all of it, and he comes up with one conclusion:
After four months of having his whole self exploited by numerous fansites and media, it feels like there is nothing left of him to give.
They have seen it all, had it all, what else of Yetao could they possibly want?
"Everything else,” Oscar had said last night, when Yetao called and told him of his worries. “I have lived with you for four months and I still want to know more.”
While that calmed Yetao down a little, Oscar’s biased advice was, at the end, unhelpful.
Deep down, Yetao knows what the fans want.
It’s him, with Oscar.
This time, their fans lucked out when they decided to ship Yetao and Oscar. For once, they are not what the internet would call ‘delulus’, because how could they be, when Oscar and Yetao are actually together?
The thing is, Yetao is not sure how to feel about it, what with everything with Oscar still so new. After they parted, there is not a single day when they did not contact each other, and all of their conversations would go on late into the night. Sometimes, they would leave the line connected without having an actual conversation, just to feel like they have each other all the time, like they’re used to.
The fact that they’re still so attached should give him comfort that they’re going steady, but even after telling his parents and all of his friends, Yetao still wakes up with the constant gnawing anxiety that none of this will last, that the next phone call with Oscar will be a reality check of how this relationship is a threat to their careers and it is not worth fighting for, when they know there is no solid future that they can hold on to.
(Not in this day and age in their country, and most likely not anytime within the next two decades).
Yetao’s phone vibrates with an incoming text.
It’s Oscar.
All good?
Yetao lets out the breath that he doesn’t realize he’s been holding and replies with a quick, yes.
Oscar’s responds comes immediately, I checked with my manager, she said I can drop in.
Yetao stares at the message. He bites his lower lip, You don’t have to, I’ll be okay.
I want to. Oscar texts back. Then, if that’s okay with you.
Yetao can never say no to Oscar.
Okay.
This is the first time they will be talking to each other in public and live, if Oscar follows through with his words and actually does join. It is a nerve wracking thing to do so early into their relationship, knowing how obsessive fans can get, but Yetao knows they were bound to do this, at some point. As much as he’d like to protect Oscar from the public’s insistent eye, that option was never on the table in the first place, especially with the way this entire charade was documented for the world to see since day one.
He just hopes this won’t be what drives Oscar away, especially after facing so much worst together in the past four months.
When Oscar does join his live a little later, Yetao wonders—again and again—why he was so unnecessarily worried.
“Let’s go get our nails done, when do you want to go?”
Yetao sees the comment section blowing up.
Of course Oscar wouldn’t care for subtlety. Yetao can’t hold back his smile as they continued to chat, feeling like it is just another one of their daily calls.
“Hey, call my name,” Oscar smirks.
“Oscar,” he responds, immediate. He likes calling Oscar’s name, it’s the first ‘Oscar’ in his life.
“Not like that,” Oscar says.
Yetao’s smile grows, “Wang Zheng—“
Then, what Oscar’s really asking hits him, and he bursts out into a shocked laughter because—ohmygosh—Oscar needs to chill.
“I won’t!” Yetao exclaims, embarrassed.
Oscar shoots him a knowing look, “You don’t dare because there’s too many people, huh?”
Yetao wants to kill him for looking like he’s having so much fun.
“Call me,” Oscar tries again, clearly teasing him.
“I won’t,” Yetao hugs his plushie tighter.
Oscar responds with a laughter that Yetao can never gets tired hearing of.
Yetao scans through the comments for a safe topic before he goes into hysterics. “Oscar, do you have schedule lately—well, isn’t this considered as one?”
“Do I have schedule lately?” Oscar ponders, and then tells him, “Talking to you isn’t a schedule, it’s something I do daily.”
Oscar is so daft.
Yetao takes a mental note to ignore Oscar’s calls later tonight for the stress he’s causing Yetao.
He checks the comments again and sees complains about how small Oscar’s screen is.
Yetao taps Oscar’s image, for their sake. “Can I make Oscar bigger? How do I do this?”
He turns to his manager, “Can you enlarge this a little? I want to enlarge it, he’s too small.”
Oscar leans forward, likely seeing the same comments. “It’s okay,” he tells Yetao. He then smiles softly, “I’m as big as I am in your heart.”
Yetao’s eyes widen, and Oscar seems to remember himself.
Stress.
“Help,” Yetao says, literally helpless.
Oscar hides behind his hands as he keeps laughing, “I’m sorry, this is a livestream, isn’t it, I’m sorry.”
Yetao is so done with him.
Oscar’s manager seems to be calling him, and Yetao hopes whoever it is that’s babysitting Oscar can tell him to quit it.
“Ask me a question, hurry.”
Yetao literally doesn’t know what to ask that won’t make Oscar explicitly out them, anymore than he’s been doing.
He tries, “Oscar, what’s your perfume?”
“My perfume? Jo Malone.”
Talking about perfume, he remembers something Oscar asked him last night. “Did you know, I finished up that bottle of perfume already.”
“Did you? I haven’t smelled you in so long.”
(Yetao knows the feeling, he misses Oscar too).
From his side, his manager makes a cutthroat gesture.
Yetao sends him a helpless stare, and sees Oscar sipping his drink.
“You’re drinking Starbucks?” Yetao asks, because that seems safe.
Oscar checks the cup, “Yeah, you want some?” He offers, moving the cup closer to the camera.
“I don’t,” Yetao says, incredulous. How is Oscar such a — boyfriend?
“Did you guys have a candlelight dinner?” Yetao reads another comment. “Yes, we did.”
“We did,” Oscar confirms. “When I left CHUANG, the first person I met up was Hu Yetao.”
“Yes,” Yetao says, and smiles because he always does when he remembers that night.
“Of course we met up secretly,” Oscar tells their fans, like it’s their business.
“Yes, no one knew,” Yetao tries to stress meaningfully to his oblivious boyfriend, because that should mean they are not supposed to broadcast that information, right?
They continue to chat a little longer, until Oscar needs to go. Before he leaves, Oscar raises his hand to the camera for a virtual high-five, and Yetao meets him half-way like he always does.
(Yetao might blush if he lets himself remember how it’s usually a different body part that would move closer to the camera).
Yetao has given up on pretending they’re just friends at this point, with a lot of their laundry aired out just now.
When he finally ends the live, his manager gives him a flat, unamused stare. “I deserve a raise.”
Yetao feels blood rising to his cheeks and nods in sympathy. “You really do.”
Later that night when he finally joins in Yu Gengyin’s birthday party, Yetao does not respond to Oscar’s apology for taking it up a notch in their live earlier, claiming that he really couldn’t help himself when Yetao reacts in such a — his words, not Yetao’s — adorable way. Instead, he lets Fu Sichao and Zhang Xingte blows Oscar’s phone up with selfies and voice notes, because he honestly deserves it.
Gengyin hands him a glass of what looks like an alcoholic drink, “Someone’s whipped,” he comments.
Yetao glares as he takes a gulp, “You mean someone can't tell what subtle is even if it slaps him hard across the face.”
Gengyin chuckles, “Hey, lots of us losers here envy that. Hopes it last.”
At the end of the night, Yetao raises his glass to that. “Thanks, ge. I hope so to.”