Chapter Text
“Hey, Xiao Zhan,” Seungyeon’s voice rings out, and Xiao Zhan considers hiding under his desk.
He hasn’t texted Seungyeon back since the weekend, a break in their daily messages that has to be suspicious. But he doesn’t know what Yibo’s told Seungyeon about their cinema trip, and he’d rather not know.
Steeling himself, Xiao Zhan turns to find Seungyeon staring at him from a few desks away, mouth set in a determined line.
There’s no one left in the classroom but them, everyone else out at extracurriculars or headed home on a bleak Monday afternoon.
“Seungyeon,” Xiao Zhan greets cautiously as Seungyeon strides up to him, eyes burning. “Listen, I’m-”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Seungyeon asks, his voice cracking. “After all this time?”
Stomach twisting, Xiao Zhan’s rooted to the ground in fear. He’s not ready to lose his best friend too.
“Seungyeon, I’m- I know I can’t-” Xiao Zhan gasps, eyes already wet with tears. “I didn’t know how to tell you-”
No matter how he’d pictured this confrontation over the past few days, it doesn’t measure up to the real thing. It’s okay if his heart is broken, but not anybody else’s.
“No, Xiao Zhan, it’s okay. I should’ve known. At the interview, they told me they’d received my letters,” Seungyeon breaks in, and Xiao Zhan blinks. What is Seungyeon talking about? “All the letters you’d helped me write to get in. And then you not charging me to write to Yibo, it all makes so much sense.”
Wait, what?
“What- what makes sense, Seungyeon-” Xiao Zhan asks, flabbergasted as Seungyeon steps even closer, placing his hands on the desk, on either side of Xiao Zhan.
“You- you’re the best, Xiao Zhan,” Seungyeon’s a little too close now, his breath on Xiao Zhan’s lips. “I like you too.”
And then Seungyeon’s lips are on his, his hands on Xiao Zhan’s waist pulling them flush together.
Xiao Zhan goes rigid, eyes wide open as he stares at Seungyeon kissing him, eyes firmly shut with intention. His breath is stuck in his chest, his mind a whir. What on earth-
He’s about to push Seungyeon away, to catch his breath and to dispute everything, when the door slams open.
Pushing Seungyeon away, Xiao Zhan looks up in horror to see Yibo in the doorway, his face ice-cold. He’s still in Seungyeon’s arms, Seungyeon blinking at Yibo in shock.
“I see,” Yibo says, voice shaking with anger. Somehow, instead of Seungyeon, his gaze is nailed to Xiao Zhan, piercing through Seungyeon’s hands on his waist.
Xiao Zhan is speechless, like he’s been punched in the stomach. Yibo’s eyes are full of hurt and fury, his fist tightening around the neck of a paper bag.
Tossing it onto the nearest desk, Yibo turns and strides away.
“Yibo, wait-” Xiao Zhan cries out, tears flooding his eyes. Yibo’s back is a black blur, moving rapidly away from them into the hallway crowd. “Yibo, don’t go, I can explain, please-”
It’s too late. Yibo isn’t listening anymore.
Swallowing hard, Xiao Zhan collapses against the desk, his lips pressed hard together so he doesn’t burst out sobbing.
“Xiao Zhan-” Seungyeon says, and his voice is tight, angry. “Why, you-”
Xiao Zhan looks up, startled. He’d almost forgotten about Seungyeon, the grip he’d had on Xiao Zhan’s hip.
There it is in Seungyeon’s eyes—the dawning realisation that turns into pain. Everything he’s tried to avoid since this whole thing, this whole mistake began.
“You- you like Yibo,” Seungyeon says, drawing away from Xiao Zhan. “You’ve liked him this whole time?”
“Seungyeon, wait, please,” Xiao Zhan breathes, reaching out for Seungyeon’s hand, but he pulls it out of Xiao Zhan’s reach.
“I’ve been so stupid,” Seungyeon says, letting out a cracked laugh, running a hand violently through his hair. “All this time, I thought- I thought maybe-” He drags in a deep breath, shaking his head. He meets Xiao Zhan’s eyes, and for once Seungyeon’s gaze is hard, bitter. “But it’s been Yibo all along.”
“I’m so sorry, Seungyeon, wait, please,” Xiao Zhan gasps, running after Seungyeon as he turns and moves towards the door. The whole classroom is tumbling around him, like he’s being knocked about in a dryer. “Seungyeon-”
Seungyeon whirls around, mouth twisted. “Don’t call my name. We don’t know each other.”
He seizes hold of the door and slams it on his way out, not looking back once.
Breathing hard, Xiao Zhan can only stumble over to the paper bag, turn it over to empty its contents onto the desk.
It’s a single magnolia flower, in full bloom.
==
“Why are you hiding out here? And why is my whole class suddenly aceing their essays?” is the first thing Mu-laoshi asks as he ducks into the small classroom at the end of the hall. It’s up on the fifth floor, which nobody bothers climbing to.
Well, except Xiao Zhan now, to stay away from both Seungyeon and Yibo. He’d tried calling and texting both to no avail, and approaching them in the hallways had proven futile.
Somehow, meeting Yibo’s eyes is worse when all he does is look right through you as if you don’t exist.
“I messed up,” Xiao Zhan says simply, shutting his laptop. “Now my best friend and the boy I like both hate me.”
“Wow,” Mu-laoshi lets out an exhale, hitting his palms on his thighs. “That’s a lot. What did you do?”
“I didn’t tell them the truth.” The words come out barely audible. They’re the best conclusion he could reach after a few hours of crying his eyes out. “I hurt them.”
“Listen, Xiao Zhan. I meant what I said before,” Mu-laoshi says, sighing. “You’re a good boy. You make good decisions. This one might not have been, but I know you’re trying to make it right.”
When Xiao Zhan doesn’t respond, Mu-laoshi pulls the chair at the table next to his and drops down in it.
“High school is always a crazy time of your life. Everyone likes everyone, and everyone’s also figuring out who they are.” Mu-laoshi shrugs. “Whether you like Seungyeon or Yibo, I think at the heart of it, they will both always care about you.”
Xiao Zhan’s head snaps up, his eyes tearing. “How do you know about them?”
Mu-laoshi doesn’t say anything, only gets to his feet and walks to the door.
“Yibo, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, and then he leaves, like the traitor he is.
Xiao Zhan watches helplessly as Yibo ducks into the doorway, deep eyes finding Xiao Zhan’s immediately.
“Hey,” Yibo says, effectively pinning Xiao Zhan where he is with one word. He looks- he looks like he hasn’t been sleeping, his eye bags in full force and a few spots on his cheek. His voice is scratchy too, but pointed and clear. “I talked to Seungyeoun.”
“Hi,” Xiao Zhan says softly, rising from his chair. “Yibo-”
“Wait, stop-” Yibo says, raising a hand, and Xiao Zhan pauses. “Just- answer a few questions for me, will you?”
“Okay,” Xiao Zhan says, twisting his hands together in front of him. “Anything.”
“How- how much of those letters, those texts were you?” Yibo’s eyes are guarded. Xiao Zhan’s about to answer when he continues, his voice cracking. “And how much of it was a game?”
“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan bursts out, like it’ll choke him if he keeps it in a moment longer. The hurt in Yibo’s eyes is too much to bear. “I was never- we were never playing with you. It wasn’t a game at all. Seungyeon told me he liked you and asked me to help him write a letter to you.”
Xiao Zhan takes a deep breath, Yibo watching as he struggles with the next part. “I wrote all the letters, and all the texts.”
“Okay,” Yibo forces out, jaw clenching. His hands are wrapped tight around his elbows, arms crossed in front of him like he’s protecting himself. “So you did it for what, the money? Payment? Laughed at me for a few yuan?”
“It’s not- Yibo, no,” Xiao Zhan continues, and he talks through the tears that run down his face, curve down by his nose and slip past his lips. He doesn’t- he doesn’t know how to get through this insurmountable shield that Yibo’s thrown up.
“I have never-” his voice breaks, embarrassingly. It’s so important that Yibo knows this. “I have never laughed at you.”
Yibo’s gaze drops to his feet and Xiao Zhan can only plead with him now, Yibo obviously on the edge of turning and walking away.
“Yibo, those words were mine. Every late night, every conversation after school.” He takes in a breath, and watches as Yibo meets his gaze slowly. “Every morning text. Every- every ‘I love you’.”
All Xiao Zhan can offer is a broken smile. “That was me. I meant every word.”
“Then why?” Yibo demands, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Was it funny to you both, watching me go on dates with Seungyeon, trying to figure out why he didn’t sound a thing like you? Was it a bet how long I’d last before I realised?”
“No, Yibo- no,” Xiao Zhan begs, chest hurting as he sees Yibo wipe away the angry shine of tears in his eyes. “Seungyeon- he really, he really liked you, so much. I was trying to be a good friend. But I know it was cruel. I never wanted you to get hurt. I’m so sorry, Yibo.”
“You know,” Yibo breathes, mouth moving a few times before the words catch up with him. His voice is wrecked and ugly. “This was the first time I’ve ever considered being with anyone. With a guy, too. You of all people, Seungyeon too, should know what a difficult decision that was for me. And then I find out it’s some big prank-”
“It’s not a prank,” Xiao Zhan cries out, and Yibo stops on his rampage, staring at Xiao Zhan. “It’s not-” Xiao Zhan scrubs at his face, rubbing his skin red and raw with his sleeves. “I- I’ve always- I’ve always liked you.”
Yibo’s stock still, watching Xiao Zhan’s every move, the shudder that runs through him every few words.
“Ever since you brought me around, that first day,” Xiao Zhan says, trembling. “But then Seungyeon- I didn’t want to lose my friend. I didn’t think, and I hurt you. You wouldn’t- you wouldn’t care about normal Xiao Zhan, but Seungyeon was someone different, someone you might like.”
His next admission is miserable, pathetic, but he has to say it anyway, a poor rationalisation for all the hurt in Yibo’s eyes.
“I thought that- maybe this was the only way you’d ever look at me.”
“Why would you think that?” Yibo suddenly takes a few steps towards Xiao Zhan, eyes alight. “Do you know that in the few weeks after we first met, I tried to find you in the hallway, in the canteen? I wanted to talk to you, but I lost my nerve.”
Xiao Zhan’s heart is in his throat. “I didn’t- I looked for you too. But-”
“But what,” Yibo says, and Xiao Zhan has no good answer.
“You became too hard to find,” Xiao Zhan answers, cutting and honest. “Too far out of reach.”
There’s a silence in the classroom then, Yibo opening his mouth, and shutting it just as quick. He can’t make sense of so much so fast, and neither can Xiao Zhan.
“Then what-” Yibo says, weakly now, like the fight’s left him. “What was that in the classroom? Why did Seungyeon kiss you? Why did you let him?”
“Seungyeon thought that I liked him,” Xiao Zhan says, shaking his head. “I don’t- I never have. I love him as a brother, that’s all.”
Yibo nods, glancing around the room, everywhere but Xiao Zhan. His hands are now at his sides, clenched tight into fists. “Fine. Cool.”
“Fine? Cool? Yibo-” Xiao Zhan’s voice slips. If Yibo’d found Mu-laoshi on his own and taken this painful step, if this is his last chance with Yibo, Xiao Zhan needs to say his piece.
“Yibo, I- That day at the cinema, every talk we’ve had about Beijing, about being sick, about you and me. Everything was real.”
Yibo stays silent, scuffing the toes of his white sneakers against the school tile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Xiao Zhan whispers, and Yibo looks up at him, something flickering in his eyes. “I know- I know you felt it too.”
Leaning over to open his bag, Xiao Zhan pulls out the magnolia flower, which has since started to droop a little. “Or you- you wouldn’t have brought me this.”
Yibo stares wordlessly at the flower in Xiao Zhan’s hands, his jaw working.
When a little too much time has passed and Xiao Zhan’s fingers tremble no matter how hard he tries to steady them, he places the flower carefully on top of his laptop.
“Sorry,” Xiao Zhan says, offering Yibo a thin smile. “I- I think Seungyeon really likes you still. If you- if you want to be with him, I wish you both nothing but happiness-”
Yibo puts his hand down on the desk, hard. A loud crack resounds around the classroom, making Xiao Zhan jolt upwards.
“Why do you do that?” Yibo questions, voice irate. “Why do you do that, that thing where you’re unhappy but you try to sound happy?”
“I don’t know.” Xiao Zhan tastes salt on his tongue from his tears. “Yibo, I want you and Seungyeon to be happy-”
“Don’t,” Yibo says warningly, holding up a palm. “I don’t want to be with him. He’s a good guy, but not for me. And you-” He takes a deep breath, fingers flexing at his side.
“Xiao Zhan, look out for your own happiness. It’s okay to upset people. It’s okay that things aren’t perfect. Life will never be. Shit will happen to you, believe me, I know.” Yibo’s eyes find his, and Xiao Zhan’s startled by the earnestness, the sincerity in them.
“Just because bad things have happened doesn’t mean it’s your fault. You don’t need to keep bearing the burden, earning money, working alone, everything, by yourself.”
“Yibo, I-” Xiao Zhan starts, and Yibo stops him with another wave of his hand.
“You don’t need to give me an answer right now. I think we need some time,” Yibo says, and Xiao Zhan stumbles back on his heels and nods. “Settle it with Seungyeon, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, I will,” Xiao Zhan manages, and Yibo stops at the door.
“I think I sort of knew.” He turns, and Xiao Zhan has never been more relieved to see a wry smile return to his face. “You always look at me like-”
“Like what,” Xiao Zhan asks, chest aching from how Yibo’s eyes gentle.
“Like you want to be found, too.”
==
A few weeks later, Xiao Zhan’s wheeling his bike out from the dormitory garage when he hears a honk at the main road.
He’s confused. It can’t be Seungyeon, who’s since transferred schools to the prestigious arts school nearby. They still talk every day, but Seungyeon hadn’t mentioned that he was taking the thirty-minute ride here yet.
Their reunion is two weeks away, and Seungyeon’s promised to show Xiao Zhan around his new neighbourhood.
Seungyeon had been good about everything. Too good, in fact.
He’d apologised to Xiao Zhan for being rude, and Xiao Zhan’d apologised for falling in love with Yibo and not telling him. Then Seungyeon had told Xiao Zhan that he realised that he hadn’t actually liked Yibo at all, just the idea of him.
Xiao Zhan’d just been someone that he’d become comfortable with, so he’d grown to like him. But he didn’t really want to be with Xiao Zhan and risk their friendship.
They’d both cried a bit together, then spent the next few days hanging out. No other boys, nothing. Just them.
After that, Seungyeon’d gotten his admission letter, and it’d been another tearful week as Xiao Zhan helped him move his things over. He’s still proudly saved as “best friend 4eva” in Seungyeon’s phone, and they’re doing better than ever. Last he heard, there's a handsome boy in Seungyeon's class who's taken with him, and he enjoys bubble tea and sweet things too.
Yibo is another matter. They’ve texted a few times since Xiao Zhan’s apology, and it took a while to get back into their regular rhythm. Xiao Zhan wants to give Yibo space, thinking that they might not be able to move past what happened, but Yibo is stubborn.
He texts Xiao Zhan like Xiao Zhan never wronged him, full of understanding and forgiveness. Sometimes, in between serious talks about family and expectations, it feels like Yibo hints at more.
But Xiao Zhan doesn’t know if it’s just wishful thinking.
Continuing up the path, Xiao Zhan catches sight of a familiar black bike and thinks he must still be sleeping. Maybe a new biker moved into his dorm, Xiao Zhan thinks frantically, hope rising in his chest all the same. He rounds the corner and-
Yibo leans against it, carrying the same two helmets as before.
“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan gasps, and Yibo looks up, like his voice had carried on the breeze straight to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Come to pick you up, of course,” Yibo says, nonchalant like he isn’t the physical manifestation of all of Xiao Zhan’s thoughts, shining in the early morning light with flecks of gold in his hair. “Put that bicycle away. You aren’t going to be needing it anymore.”
With shaking hands, Xiao Zhan returns his bike to the garage as quickly as he can, and comes running right back. He freezes a metre from Yibo, staring openly.
Yibo has on his leather jacket, but beyond that, he’s wearing a slouchy shirt with a low slung collar, enough to reveal prominent collarbones. His hair is styled, his eyes lined with brown.
Xiao Zhan can’t breathe. This must really be a dream.
A dream which looks over and smiles at Xiao Zhan’s goldfish gape, crooking a finger at him.
“Hi,” Yibo says, grinning as Xiao Zhan stumbles over, eyes trailing over Yibo’s shoulders, hands, neck, face, everything. “Sweetheart.”
“Uh,” is Xiao Zhan’s very intelligent response. His cheeks are flaming, a pure red over his nose. “Yibo, what are you doing?”
“Fetching my boyfriend to school,” Yibo replies, smooth as butter. His voice is teasing as he smooths a few stray hairs behind Xiao Zhan’s ear and passes Xiao Zhan one of his two helmets. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
It’s like Xiao Zhan’s soaring, his heart lifting him off the ground. He’s wished for this for so long, a possibility he’s stored in a dark musty closet, away from the light of day.
Then a sobering thought comes to him and he swallows, placing the helmet back down on the seat. “Yibo,” Xiao Zhan says quietly. “You know, if you fetch me to school, people are going to talk.”
Yibo places a gentle hand on Xiao Zhan’s cheek and smiles. “I know,” he says, and drags Xiao Zhan forward by his collar to kiss him deeply.
Xiao Zhan goes slack. He can’t think or breathe, his hands clinging to Yibo’s chest as Yibo kisses him like he’s drowning. As Xiao Zhan parts his lips helplessly, Yibo dives into them, licking and sliding his tongue along Xiao Zhan’s with a slick, hot wanton moan.
Xiao Zhan’s never been kissed like this before, Yibo’s hands cradling his head tenderly, an arm wrapped around his waist so tight he can feel the long line of Yibo’s body against his.
Closing his eyes, he slides his arms around Yibo’s neck, letting go of every inhibition he’s held on to his whole life, letting himself kiss back with abandon.
It doesn’t matter who sees anymore. This is who Xiao Zhan is.
When they break apart, Xiao Zhan chasing Yibo’s lips, Yibo turns his attention to Xiao Zhan’s neck, nosing at it and sucking at his jaw. Xiao Zhan’s legs give out and Yibo lifts him onto the bike without breaking the kiss.
It’s only after the sun’s glare grows stronger that Yibo draws back. And even then, it’s only a little, like he doesn’t want to be apart from Xiao Zhan at all.
“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan begins, lightheaded, and stops when he catches sight of his mauled neck in the motorcycle mirror. There are two huge hickeys there that can barely be hidden by his collar.
“Yibo!” Xiao Zhan yells again, scandalised. He slaps a hand over his neck, eyes wide. Everyone at school will-
“I’m not going to hide this,” Yibo says, gaze serious. “I love you, and I’m tired. Whatever anyone wants to think, they can go ahead. But you and me, this is real. I'm never going to be out of your reach. I'm always going to be here for you.”
Xiao Zhan blinks at Yibo, heart thudding wildly in his chest. His lips are sore, and all he can see is Yibo, who’s forgiven him. Yibo, who’s ready to face the world to be with him.
“Yibo, I love you too,” Xiao Zhan says, firm and obstinate. How can he not, when Yibo’s looking at him like that? “I’ve loved you from the start, and I never stopped.”
Yibo’s eyes twinkle at Xiao Zhan’s claim. “No more love letters to anyone but me now.”
“I’ll write you one every day,” Xiao Zhan laughs as he slides on the helmet and straddles the seat behind Yibo.
“While I love your handwriting,” Yibo says, planting a kiss on Xiao Zhan’s helmet, his grin growing wider. “Just tell me you love me, face to face.”
“Always,” Xiao Zhan promises, drinking in the smile that finally, finally, belongs to him.
They speed off to school together, Xiao Zhan’s arms wrapped firmly around Yibo’s waist where they stay.
==
Change contact from “Xiao Zhan” to “zhan-ge ❤.”?
Confirmed.
Change contact from “Wang Yibo” to “lao wang ❤”?
Confirmed.