Chapter Text
Wang Yibo is good at a lot of things. Specifically, he’s very talented when it comes to athleticism: basketball, skateboarding, cycling, track, soccer, swimming, you name it and he’s probably competed (and actually won) in it. That’s why it’s a no-brainer that he’s the current president of the sports club; nobody else comes close anyway.
But there’s one thing Yibo isn’t very good at, and that’s dealing with dumbass crushes.
First off, he’s Wang Yibo. He doesn’t do crushes or any of that emotional fluff for that matter. He’s never even told his parents he loves them, what else other people? High school is about competing, winning, fitting in your chosen social circle, and proving yourself worthy to be on top of the food chain — it’s not about gushy feelings, acting cute, and being conscious of how you look to the eyes of another person. Yibo has no energy to spare for anything not related to athletics nor his teammates.
And yet, in the meeting room he sits, a few chairs away from the only other person around. It’s their monthly assembly and Yibo’s trying very hard not to blush whenever the council president smiles over at him while they both wait for the rest of the officers to arrive. Where are the others anyway? Do they not understand the concept of being on time?!
“How’s everything with the sports club, Wang?” Xiao Zhan finally breaks the silence after a few minutes.
Yibo doesn’t look at him as he quietly answers, “Well.”
“Well?”
He clears his throat and crosses his arms, “Everything’s going well.” He looks far out to the window.
“That’s great! I’m happy that your club is doing alright.” Ever so chirpy, this guy. Yibo hates him and his pristine, angelic, blinding smile.
Well, okay, he doesn’t exactly hate that smile, but he’s also not comfortable being accustomed to his heart skipping a beat whenever he sees it. It’s inconvenient for his health, truth be told.
And yet, Xiao Zhan keeps looking at him even though Yibo refuses to return the gesture; it doesn’t deter him from continuing either, “How are the uniforms? I saw the soccer team wearing some of the new jerseys on my way up here.”
“Yeah,” Yibo answers, “they can play better now that their uniforms actually fit.”
“Cool. It’s good that the athletes are keeping the spirit up,” Xiao Zhan turns over a few leaves of his notebook and starts scribbling some notes. “If you need anything else, let me know so we can set some of the budget aside. I’ll get your retreat proposal sorted out in a few days, too.”
There it is again: that signature council president charm, the one that easily breezed Xiao Zhan through the school’s most recent election. Yibo can see why everyone likes the guy. (Himself included, but he’ll never say that out loud.) “Okay, thanks.”
To be honest, Yibo’s never been so happy leading the sports club. They’ve been used to being left out in the last academic year but ever since Xiao Zhan took over, every club seems to have gotten the treatment they deserve, and everyone’s just been so enthusiastic to join school activities in general.
“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Ji Li storms through the door. His trademark loud voice breaks the stiffness in the air between the other two. “Oh, it’s just you two? Where’s Xuan Lu? Zhuocheng? Yu Bin isn’t even here yet?”
“They all said they’ll be up in a few minutes,” Xiao Zhan beams at him, pauses his scribbling to look at Ji Li. “Take a seat, I’m sure they’re on their way.”
Ji Li does as Xiao Zhan suggests and proceeds to settle beside Yibo. “What’s up, Wang Yibo?” He offers a semi-handshake, which Yibo takes on without a squeak.
Yibo lightens up, relief washing over him now that the pressure of interacting with Xiao Zhan’s been lifted off his shoulders. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”
“Good. Just been busy with the arts club, as usual. This year’s open exhibit’s happening next Thursday so a lot of them are rushing to make it in time for the cutoff.” Ji Li rambles, taking out a pack of biscuits from his bag as he does. He yawns. The guy looks like he had a long day. “And your athletes?”
“They’re not my athletes,” he smirks, amusement evident in his tone. “But they’re doing pretty well, we have an inter-city competition coming up and a few other things,” Yibo answers with a liberal amount of enthusiasm. He talks about fresh new faces, their cozy new uniforms, the restored gym equipment, how they’re planning to go to a weekend retreat, and everything in-between.
Ji Li nods while he chews his food, looking a bit blank but still genuinely interested in everything that his fellow freshman was saying.
Xiao Zhan, who can hear everything, eyes them curiously from where he sits. One corner of his mouth tugs upward at the slightest, noticing something he never meant to pay attention to: How he previously asked Wang Yibo the same question but only got a few words out of him. But now, with Ji Li, things seem different. Or maybe he’s simply imagining things? The two are of the same age anyway, they might have a better sense of communication with each other in the first place. Whatever it was, it’s such good timing that the rest of the council starts walking in because Xiao Zhan would have started entertaining the thought much more.
Noise starts flooding the room, little by little. Xiao Zhan momentarily shifts his attention away from the questions in his head before finally closing his notebook and greeting everyone with a smile, “Ready to get next month’s activities sorted?”
-
In-between English and Biology, Ji Li asks, “Do you think Xiao Zhan has a girlfriend?”
Wang Yibo chokes on his banana when he hears the question. He looks at Ji Li with furrowed brows, a look that clearly says what words couldn’t.
“What? I’m just curious. Nobody we know knows much about him outside of school. Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered about that?”
Yibo has, in fact, wondered about it. Multiple times over the course of half the year he’s known Xiao Zhan via the council, actually. But it’s not something he’s going to admit to Ji Li nor to anyone, for that matter. So he just shakes his head and says, “You know I don’t think about relationships in general. I just want to win gold in the next—”
“—in the next competition, I get it.” Ji Li rolls his eyes. “It’s easy for you to say that, Mr. Star Athlete. You get love letters and confessions even when it’s not Valentine’s Day!”
Yibo shrugs, “So what? None of that matters. It doesn’t help me in my training whatsoever, why bother?” He finishes the last of his banana and imitates a basketball throw when he shoots the peel in the nearest bin, which, of course he does. A few of his classmates clap at that, Ji Li being one of them. Yibo nods in gloated agreement.
“Anyway,” Ji Li begins again. He was checking his phone nonchalantly when he says, “I have a feeling he’s dating Xuan Lu.”
“Xuan Lu?” Yibo frowns, “President of the dance club, Xuan Lu?”
“The one and only!”
Yibo does some math in his head. It’s possible but 1) he doesn’t want to entertain the idea and 2) he wants to know how Ji Li came up with such a conclusion. “Why Xuan Lu though? They’re rarely together except when we’re meeting up for club discussions.”
“Oh, so you don’t know, then!” Interest replenished, Ji Li looks at Yibo and sits straight up. “They’ve been friends since they were born. Families connected via businesses or something. The only reason you don’t see them together in school is because you’re too fucking busy with your own thing, Yibo. Hello?” Ji Li clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at Yibo in mockery.
“Shut your mouth, that isn’t true at all.”
Ji Li only scoffs, “Anyway, not the point. The point is that Xuan Lu spends a lot of time with him outside of school, and we only know this because she once posted a photo of them hanging out last winter. I think they went to a festival of some sort?”
“And?” Yibo, still in denial, shrugs. “What’s the big deal about going to a festival? We go together, too!”
“Yeah, but like, not in Munich,” Ji Li drives the bomb home. “They were in Germany last Christmas with a couple of other teenagers — who, mind you, don't even go to our school. What makes you think they’re just ordinary friends?”
Yibo shakes his head in disbelief. He can feel his brain beginning to short-circuit. He clicks his tongue and echoes, “Germany? With a girl, huh?”
“What, you jealous?”
Yibo snaps at him, nervous. Does Ji Li know about his best-kept, carefully-guarded secret? He fights the upcoming desert in his throat, “What?”
“You wanna go somewhere with a girl too, don’t you?” Ji Li wiggles his eyebrows.
Yibo sighs out a laugh, feigning relief with a scorn, “Yeah, right. Maybe after—”
“The next gold medal, whatever. You and your obsession with sports.”
It’s only when Ji Li hops off the desk and walks away that Yibo starts to properly breathe again.
And yet, even after the conversation has long faded, he struggles to erase the idea of Xiao Zhan being in a relationship with someone else.
-
It’s 6:35 AM.
Xiao Zhan is in the middle of regular hall inspection when he sees Wang Yibo with Zhuocheng walk towards him. His morning suddenly seems so much brighter than he can remember. “Hello, you two! On your way to your classes?”
Zhuocheng smiles bashfully and slightly bows, “Yes, I have midterms today, so I’m a bit on the edge.”
“I’m sure you’ll do well,” Xiao Zhan grins, “If you studied to the best of your abilities then there’s definitely nothing to worry about. Right, Wang?” He turns to Yibo, clearly indicating he’s the Wang Xiao Zhan’s talking to.
Yibo nods quietly, mentally taking note of the slight difference in Xiao Zhan’s hair that morning. He turns to Zhuocheng before he says something inappropriate, “Zhuocheng, you’ve never failed a test before. You’re already a junior, too, so I don’t think now’s the time for you to really worry about it.”
Zhuocheng visibly blushes at the kind words. He scratches his head and replies, “Thanks, you two. You both are such nice guys, you know that?”
Both Xiao Zhan and Yibo smile at Zhoucheng, and then they suddenly find themselves looking at each other. It’s the first time that Xiao Zhan is seeing Yibo smile at him head-on, and he’s slightly taken aback at the unfamiliar image.
Yibo looks away when he realises he’s staring at the senior. Zhuocheng clears his throat and looks at his watch, “Well, I better get going. I need to be early so I can review my notes a bit more. I’ll see you two around!” He politely says before walking away and making his way up to the third floor of the building.
This leaves Yibo with Xiao Zhan, who’s since moved to lean against the nearest balcony. Yibo looks at him and slowly walks over, but very consciously leaves a few feet of distance between them.
Students begin to pour in and walk to their respective classrooms. Xiao Zhan is staring at Yibo when he starts again, “What’s your first class today? Do you have midterms coming up, too?”
“Not really, no,” he says flatly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. He starts to bite his lower lip. Yibo is feeling nervous without knowing the exact reason why. “Midterms aren’t happening in another week or two, so…”
“Ah, you have time to study then!” Xiao Zhan almost snickers in reply. He crosses his arms, the clipboard flat against his chest. “Are you keeping up with all of your subjects? I know athletes have the pressure of balancing both academics and sports.”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Yibo fixes his gaze to the floor. He can’t, he just can’t look at Xiao Zhan without feeling all conscious and shy and happy all at the same time. He has long accepted his giddy feelings whenever somebody mentions even this guy’s name, what more now when they’re talking, just the two of them.
Yibo didn’t understand it before, why people pine after the school council president on a regular basis. But after he joined the committee, meeting after meeting, Yibo slowly but surely starts seeing why. Xiao Zhan is the epitome of a perfect student, after all: smart, charming, responsible, handsome, and kind to everyone. It’s no longer a surprise to him that everyone is confessing their hearts out to him every three seconds.
But Yibo isn’t exactly ‘everyone’, so he’s completely clueless when it comes to dealing with such feelings.
“Well,” Xiao Zhan looks at his watch. (Even his watch is perfect, Yibo thinks.) “I have to check up on the rest of the floors. I’ll see you around?”
Yibo nods and looks away, desperately hiding the blush that he’s certain is currently taking over his cheeks. He doesn’t want to look at Xiao Zhan — he can’t or he might combust on the spot.
Xiao Zhan looks at him one last time, waiting for the freshman to look back at him. But Yibo doesn’t, so he just heaves out an inaudible sigh. “Have a nice day, Wang,” he bids before disappearing around the corner, finally letting himself drop the smile at the feeling of Yibo rejecting him.
-
“Raise the Red Lantern, Xuan Lu?” Xiao Zhan chuckles a little bit, turning to the female in question. “Will it not be too controversial?”
“It could be, but it’s also very eye-opening!” Xuan Lu giggles as she walks down the hall with Xiao Zhan. Students left and right smile at them — a pair of good-looking overachievers from the student council is always a sight to see. “With Zhu Zanjin back from his exchange trip, this is going to be such a good production. He can also teach our new dancers some good techniques he learned from Vaganova Academy.”
Xiao Zhan looks at her, “You’re right. He did spend a few months in Russia for some advanced ballet, didn’t he?”
“That’s right, and he’s so excited to share everything with everyone! What better way to do that than showcase a ballet programme?”
They reach the exit that leads to the school’s park area. Xiao Zhan nods at Xuan Lu, finally wrapping his head around the concept. “True, true.” He leads her to sit beside him on one of the empty benches, a few more students looking over at them in curiosity. “I guess it’s okay, if it’s going to benefit a lot of your members. I’m assuming you’re going to need some funding? That production isn’t cheap, costumes alone will take up a lot of what the dance club has.”
“Yeah, we do anticipate a lot of work if we want to make it work,” Xuan Lu says, sighing a little bit. “I’m going to need your help, Xiao Zhan.” She turns to him, a soft look on her face, almost pleading but more trying to get his empathy.
“Of course, it’s my responsibility to assist all clubs, after all.” Xiao Zhan smiles. He loves Xuan Lu; she’s almost like an older sister to him, both in and outside of the school’s premises. Lifting a hand, he pats the top of her head gently. “And yours is no exception.”
Xuan Lu’s hearty laugh rings against his ears. Xiao Zhan looks up, feeling more peculiar eyes staring at them, and to his surprise he sees Wang Yibo a few feet away. He watches intently and looks like he’s about to say something.
But Yibo doesn’t, and Xiao Zhan feels his heart catch in his throat when the younger turns his back on them.
Xuan Lu turns around when she catches Xiao Zhan blankly staring at something behind her. She looks at Yibo walking away, Yu Bin appearing out of nowhere and slinging an arm around his shoulder. She smiles back at Xiao Zhan, playful and knowing, “Xiao Zhan, did you know Yibo also went on exchange?”
Xiao Zhan snaps back to earth upon hearing her, “Huh?” He retracts his hand and looks at her again, “He did?”
“He spent like, six months in Seoul. That was some time ago.”
“Oh,” he awes, both at the new knowledge and at the fact that Xuan Lu knows. For a second he wonders if he’s the only one in the council whom Wang Yibo doesn’t share stories with — he seems close with everyone else except him. He pushes the thought to the farthest end of his brain and instead tilts his head to ask her, “What did he go on exchange for?”
“I think he went for soccer training, though I could be wrong.” Her eyes twinkle then, looking at Xiao Zhan dead in the eyes as she stresses her next words, “You should ask him about it.”
She knows. Of course she knows.
Xiao Zhan’s heart skips a beat, “Yeah. O-okay. I will.”
-
“Wang Yibo!”
Sweaty and panting, Qi Peixin taps Yibo on the shoulder, “Yibo, someone’s looking for you.” He points a finger to the general direction of where the voice was coming from.
Yibo wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt as he turns around. He freezes on the spot when he’s met with the sight of the Xiao Zhan from across them. The tall guy is walking towards their general direction, a bunch of papers in his hands.
“What’s the council president doing out here?” Peixin blurts to nobody in particular. Some of the other athletes have also stopped doing what they were doing, curiously watches as Xiao Zhan makes his way to the soccer field and stops right in front of them.
“Good afternoon, everyone!” Xiao Zhan cheerfully greets them. The boys, all sweaty and in the middle of hydration, only nod at him in acknowledgment. He turns to Yibo, “I was just looking for you, Wang.”
“Why?” He says and, for the first time in a long time, looks at Xiao Zhan’s face without shame. Yibo notices a few beads of sweat around Xiao Zhan’s forehead. He’s wearing his jacket out on a hot day, his polo shirt buttoned up all the way to his neck, necktie still perfectly square, even at 3:30 in the afternoon. But it’s really none of his business if the guy chooses to be so prim and proper all the time, so Yibo doesn’t comment and tries his best to stop staring.
Xiao Zhan smiles, “Your budget has been signed by the finance department. The sports club can go ahead with the weekend retreat that you proposed weeks ago.” Upon hearing those words, Yibo’s and everyone else’s eyes light up. The athletes behind them turn to each other with hushed, excited voices.
Yibo then frowns — he wants to thank Xiao Zhan but it’s as if he’s physically unable to do so. After all, he purposely walked out on the field to deliver the news when he could have just waited to announce it in the next council meeting. Yibo feels his chest swell up at the gesture, and he really really wants to express his gratitude to Xiao Zhan but for some reason, something else entirely comes out of his mouth, “Thanks, but did you really have to come all the way out here and tell me in the middle of practice?”
Xiao Zhan, albeit with a huge smile still resting on his face, gulps a little bit at the harsh words. He’s well aware of what he’s walked into but he wasn’t expecting Yibo to be so frank. Perhaps the whispers about him being cool and aloof are true, after all. “Ah,” he tries to regain composure, fiddling with the papers a little bit before grinning wider. He clears his throat and gives Yibo the approved budget proposal, “I’m very sorry, Wang. I didn’t mean to interrupt your practice,” he glances around, as if apologising to the other athletes as well, “I’m sure you’ll all do your best and win the inter-city competition next week.”
To everyone’s shock, Xiao Zhan suddenly bows an almost 90º bow.
A shocking jolt of guilt hits Yibo in the guts. With wide eyes, he tightly grips the documents in his hands and purses his lips.
“Good luck with your practice, okay?” Xiao Zhan looks at him again. He smiles but Yibo can see how it doesn’t really reflect his eyes. “I’ll see you guys around.”
As Xiao Zhan walks off, Yibo feels a raging sensation within him, almost as if the sun’s rays were scorching their way directly inside his skin.
-
Soon enough, midterm season starts rolling in.
It’s not that Wang Yibo hates studying, it’s more like he’d rather spend time practicing his sports than reading and writing.
But it’s not like he has a choice in high school — at least in university he’ll have that luxury with a sports scholarship, but right now in freshman year, Yibo drags himself to the library to borrow the references he needs. He’s missed a few classes because of the inter-city competition (which, to nobody’s surprise, they dominated) so now he has to make up for it via comprehensive tests.
He picks up a bunch of books for history and is in the middle of moving to the maths section when he hears a couple of familiar voices: Liu Haikuan’s and Xiao Zhan’s.
Haikuan’s voice is too faint for Yibo to actually decipher what he’s saying, but he can pretty much pick up on it when Xiao Zhan replies with an incredulous, “That’s not possible. Not everyone likes me, Haikuan.”
Yibo notices that unlike how Xiao Zhan addresses him, he actually calls Haikuan with his first name. Yibo is slightly jealous of that. His jealousy however, easily turns into jitters when Xiao Zhan continues, “Yibo won’t even look at me whenever we talk, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me.”
It’s a lot to unpack for Yibo. First of all, Xiao Zhan refers to him by his first name and he doesn’t even get the privilege of hearing it directly. Second of all, Xiao Zhan thinks he hates him? Yibo ensures he’s gripping his books tight because he’s starting to sweat at what he’s hearing.
Haikuan’s words are finally distinct enough from where Yibo stands, “How can you say he hates you, though?”
“I just know.”
“Yeah, but what you know might not be the truth.”
“I know but —”
“Xiao Zhan, I know you like him—”
“Shh!” Xiao Zhan shushes him almost a bit too loudly.
But that’s not what surprises Yibo. What exactly did Haikuan mean by that? He shakes his head, heartbeat pacing like mad inside his chest.
Now calmer, Xiao Zhan speaks again, “What’s the point of liking someone who doesn’t like you back?”
“How much do I have to bet to prove otherwise?” Haikuan’s tone was firm, challenging, a bit annoyed.
It’s answered by half-assed chuckles, “You can bet whatever amount you want; that guy probably hates my guts.”
Yibo’s insides are starting to feel really uneasy. He feels his guts drop at the words, and yet, he couldn’t turn away and stop listening to what he’s hearing.
Haikuan continues to debunk and protest, to which Xiao Zhan responds, “The other day I came up to him on the field — the usual student council stuff — and he got like, super annoyed at me for interrupting their practice. I always thought he didn’t like me, seeing how he interacts with all of you and not with me, but that afternoon?” He sounds down, depressed almost, “That’s what really put the nail in the coffin, I think.”
A sharp intake of breath and Yibo shuts his eyes in chagrin. It’s that one incident that’s surely convincing Xiao Zhan of these lies. Yibo purses his lips in a thin line and clutches on his books even harder, the hardbound cover pressing so hard against his already disheveled dress shirt.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Yibo walks out, not bothering with the rest of his review materials, and hurriedly makes his way up to look for Ji Li.
As he runs up the stairs, he’s met by a blunt thud against the chest.
“Whoa, hey there,” Yu Bin says, holding Yibo on either shoulders, pinning him in place. “Yibo, what’s the rush? You late for something?”
“Yu Bin,” Yibo looks down, distress evident in his tone. “I think I fucked up.”
Clearly taken aback, Yu Bin flinches. Yibo’s never one to lower his pride and confess his blunders — he’s always been the type to correct them immediately than sulk about them. Yu Bin takes the moment of vulnerability into account and gently asks, “What happened?”
“I don’t exactly know how it happened but,” Yibo’s not even fighting the thought out of his mind anymore: He knows what Xiao Zhan thinks of him because of how emotionally constipated he is as a person, but he can’t bear the thought of the older guy believing something that’s completely the opposite of what’s true.
“But what?” Yu Bin starts to lead him up the stairs, offering to take the books from him, “I’m all ears, you know you can talk to me.”
Yibo nods and enters an empty classroom that Yu Bin directed him to. Yibo huffs a breath before spilling everything — how he avoids Xiao Zhan in school, how he minimises his words when the older tries to make small talk, that one memory that Haikuan and Xiao Zhan were discussing just a few minutes ago in the library. Yu Bin only listens and nods in earnest.
To be honest, ever since that one particular afternoon, Yibo hasn’t been playing as well as he normally does because of the guilt: The look on Xiao Zhan’s face, like a kicked little puppy, tugs at Yibo’s heartstrings at the recall. But that isn’t the worst part. The worst is that whenever he’d run into Xiao Zhan in school, the council president would only faintly smile at him (the polite one he uses for strangers and borderline-creepy fans, Yibo notes) and turn the other direction within a few seconds flat. In hindsight, Yibo should already have known that something else wasn’t right, but he’s been too busy pondering over his own feelings that he forgot about the outside world — he fucking forgot to consider how Xiao Zhan must have been feeling with how he’s been acting towards him. And this is exactly why Yibo prefers to play sports than deal with yucky crushes.
“Why don’t you just apologise?” Yu Bin says with a shrug, like it’s elementary problem solving. He lifts a knee and looks at Yibo, “I’m sure Xiao Zhan isn’t angry at you. He’s not the type to hold grudges, y’know. I’ve known him all high school and I’ve never seen him not forgive anybody.”
He nods. In theory, Yibo understands. But the thing is that Yibo doesn’t exactly know how apologies go. He’s always been used to keeping his mouth shut. The mantra is the less he says, the less mistakes he’ll make, which means he wouldn’t ever have to apologise. But of course, because of his stupid crush that he doesn’t know how to handle, he just had to say something stupid to Xiao Zhan — him of all people!
“Yibo, I know you don’t do shit like saying ‘sorry’ but problems like this won’t clear themselves up,” Yu Bin continues, as if reading exactly what transcribed in Yibo’s head. “And it’s clearly bothering you, so why not make an effort for once?”
“Okay,” Yibo nods again, this time with a bit more conviction. He gathers some strength to look at Yu Bin and asks, “But I’m just not sure how? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight if I don’t get it out of my system properly.”
It’s past 5 o’clock in the afternoon, with the sun beginning to set on the horizon. “Tell you what,” Yu Bin gently smiles and thinks for a second before turning to Yibo, his reply laced with a hint of caution, “go up the rooftop in the next five minutes — don’t ask — just do what I say and do what you have to do.”
“Rooftop? But students aren’t allowed to go up there.”
“During school hours, no.” Yu Bin smiles even wider this time, coy but genuine, “Trust me.” He stands and taps his knuckles on top of Yibo’s stack of books. Yibo only stares in question and Yu Bin simply nods, encouraging. He doesn’t say anything else, simply gestures his head upwards and leaves Yibo alone in the classroom.
Contemplating what it exactly means, Yibo takes his books and starts to make his way up the rooftop. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and turns the door knob. Slowly, he peeks, to which his eyes were greeted with possibly the most beautiful and the most unthinkable image ever.
The pristine model student nowhere to be found, Xiao Zhan is leaning against the railings, looking far out the distance. This time, he isn’t wearing his school jacket, his sleeves are haphazardly rolled all the way up to his elbows, and three of his shirt’s buttons are undone. But perhaps what really sets Yibo off-balance is the stick of cigarette between his fingers, clearly lit and reeking.
Yibo stands by the door, still shell shocked, before Xiao Zhan finally catches on the new presence. The senior tenses at the sight of someone else in the vicinity, almost like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Wang Yibo,” he trails. “What are you doing here?” Xiao Zhan starts to panic a little bit, his eyes frantically searching for the nearest trash bin to put his smoke out.
Yibo almost bows his head down when he remembers what he came up there for anyway — stop running away and just apologise. He pretends to not notice the completely different image of the council president in front of him and starts, “I just wanted to talk to you about what happened a few weeks ago.”
Xiao Zhan stops his frenzy. Obviously unbothered by what he’s doing and how he currently looks, Yibo starts to walk over to him, gazing directly into his eyes. To say that Xiao Zhan isn’t used to what he’s seeing would be an understatement.
“I’m sorry,” Yibo says, straightforward, no nonsense, sincere.
Xiao Zhan looks at him, obviously confused. He maintains eye contact and smirks, lifting his stick and drawing in a breath one last time before flicking it off and stepping on it. He doesn’t say anything, and for some reason, the intensity of his stare sends shivers down Yibo’s spine. He isn’t used to not seeing Xiao Zhan smile, and he’s also not used to seeing him look the way he does right now — Yibo’s brain isn’t exactly processing the entire situation as much as he would want to.
Finally breaking the loaded silence, Xiao Zhan smiles, albeit a little bit exhausted, “Why are you sorry?”
“I,” Yibo gulps. Yu Bin’s words echo in his head. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier but I heard you and Liu Haikuan talking about me.”
Xiao Zhan visibly tenses.
Yibo continues, “I’m sorry. I don’t hate you.”
To that, Xiao Zhan’s facial expression softens almost instantly. Yibo swears he can see a smile starting to form along his lips — not that he’s looking at them or anything.
He sighs and looks away, unable to maintain eye contact anymore; he can feel that his ears are already burning, too. Yibo only repeats, “I don’t hate you, Xiao Zhan.”
Then, in a swift moment, Yibo feels a pair of arms envelop him. “Thank god,” Xiao Zhan whispers against his ear.
Shocked and eyes as wide as saucers, Yibo freezes on the spot. Is Xiao Zhan really hugging him? Is he dreaming? Hallucinating, maybe?
Xiao Zhan breaks his train of thoughts when he speaks again, this time his embrace tighter than ever, “I just needed to hear that. I just needed to hear that you don’t hate me.”
Yibo can’t think straight. It’s as if every nerve in his body is set on fire, like a warm rush of honey is taking over his sensations. He can’t explain it nor can he process his thoughts, so he stops thinking altogether and for the first time, he allows himself to follow his feelings. Yibo drops his books and lifts his hands, hesitating for a split second before he returns the embrace.
With shaking arms, Yibo pulls Xiao Zhan close to him. Xiao Zhan stiffens for a moment before eventually melting into it. Nobody utters a whisper — nobody needs to when the way they nuzzle onto one another clearly articulates what their words couldn’t.
After what seemed like eternity, Xiao Zhan laughs. Yibo doesn’t think he’s heard anything so melodious. “Yibo,” he pulls away, only enough to look at the younger, “Can I call you that? Can I call you Yibo?”
Yibo scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth are fighting off the biggest grin ever.
-
Xiao Zhan
Hurry up, sleepy head. We’re gonna be late.
Yibo smiles and shakes his head at the text message, a piece of bread still hanging off his mouth. He walks over to the dining table and grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he types a reply.
Wang Yibo
Omw out
Xiao Zhan
Hurry the hell up
It’s freezing out here
You’re making me wait again
How dare you make your council president wait
Yibo sits by the door, watches as the barrage of text messages floods his screen. He swallows the last piece of bread in his mouth then secures the knots on his rubber shoes. Yibo frantically types a reply to his boyfriend.
Wang Yibo
Do people in school know you’re actually a rude mofo or do i need to expose u
He doesn’t bother to see Xiao Zhan’s reply. He makes his way out the door, and as expected, the older boy leers at him from his thick scarf. Yibo just grins a smug grin and walks over to him.
Xiao Zhan pouts, “Wang Yibo, your behaviour is unacceptable.”
“Yeah?” Yibo teases, moving closer until he can feel the scarf against his own face, “What are you gonna do about it?”
“You are such a brat,” Xiao Zhan laughs.
Yibo laughs, too, and says, “But you love me anyway.”
“That I do,” Xiao Zhan replies before leaning closer and closing the gap between their lips. “I do love you, Wang Yibo,” he whispers before kissing him again.
And although he hates to admit it, for Yibo, this is the best memory of high school he’s made so far — definitely better than any gold medal he’s ever won.