Work Text:
Chusheng cannot help but look over every few seconds. Next to him, Lu Yao is quiet and curled up in the passenger seat, looking out of the window. The silence is very unlike Lu Yao, who fills up any space he’s in by talking incessantly or thinking really loudly sometimes.
He knows San Tu was properly frightened earlier but the man seemed to return to normal when he was at the crime scene, so Chusheng didn’t think much of it. Now looking at him in the car like this, Chusheng can see how jittery and alone he feels.
It takes him all but a slight turn of the steering wheel to change their course of direction, and Lu Yao doesn’t even notice they’ve changed routes until Chusheng is almost reaching home.
Lu Yao blinks at the unfamiliar streets and lights, then frowns, “This isn’t home.”
“This is my home,” Chusheng says, and right on time, he pulls up in the parking lot just in front of the apartment building.
“… I thought you stayed with Boss Bai,” Lu Yao says, looking around curiously. “You have your own apartment?”
“The Bai Manor is a little out of the way and I can’t afford a long drive to the station every morning,” Chusheng answers wryly. “I stay there only on the weekends if we’re not busy.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
Chusheng pauses at that, halfway out of the car. What should he say? That he thought Lu Yao looked so pitiful and upset that he wanted to bring him somewhere safe? Or that if Lu Yao came home with him, Chusheng might be able to chase the chills away?
“Aren’t you still angry at Youning?” Chusheng finally responds, crouching down to look at Lu Yao who has made no move to leave the car. “What, you want to go back and argue with her right now?”
Lu Yao bites at his lips, obviously considering it. His eyes are curious too, and Chusheng suddenly realizes that Lu Yao has never been to his place, not in the months since they met.
“Hnn, I’ll go,” Lu Yao decides, scrambling out of the vehicle as curiosity temporarily trumps his bad mood for the night.
Chusheng’s apartment is on the third floor right at the end of a corridor that sees six other apartments. When the door opens, Lu Yao pushes his way in almost excitedly, as if Chusheng has antiques or money lying around somewhere for him to find.
The house is painted a deep navy with maroon accents, and the size of it is about Lu Yao’s bedroom. Chusheng has made use of all the space he has and it feels cozy, with lesser empty space. The kitchen space is decent, and the three-seated couch looks comfortable as well. Shelves line up the right side of the wall behind the couch, although the man doesn’t possess many books for reading. Instead, they’re filled up with little trinkets and decorative pieces, including a vase that makes Lu Yao suck in a sharp breath.
“Is that-“
“Yes, and no you’re not allowed to bring it home,” Chusheng lightly pats at Lu Yao’s stretched out hand. “It’s late, you should just go shower and then rest for the day.”
“What will I wear?” asks Lu Yao, looking down himself and then at Chusheng.
Well, Chusheng didn’t think that far, to be honest. Lu Yao does have a point, because Chusheng is a little shorter than he is, which means his shirts and pants might be a little short on the man. That’s all he has, however, and Chusheng goes through his drawers to find the largest shirt he can find, and thankfully, he has an extra bedrobe.
Lu Yao looks like he’s going to complain, but Chusheng shoots him a look, and he quells all protests immediately, stalking off into the bathroom.
When Lu Yao is done half an hour later, likely using up most of the hot water, Chusheng hands him a glass of warm milk.
“I’m not a kid,” Lu Yao says quietly.
“Take the bed,” Chusheng offers instead, pressing the glass into Lu Yao’s hand, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”
Looking over to the couch, there’s a pillow and extra blankets already laid out there. Chusheng doesn’t wait for Lu Yao to respond, trusting that the detective would soon be in bed, if not asleep by the time he comes back.
And as he expected, Lu Yao is in bed under the covers and curled up on his side, facing the wall and away from Chusheng. What’s different is that the other pillow Chusheng removed from the bed for his night on the couch is mysteriously sitting there next to the pillow Lu Yao is lying on, and the extra blanket is out of sight.
Chusheng exhales softly. Does Lu Yao want the entire apartment to himself? That’s a little ridiculous even for Lu Yao, but there’s only one way to find out.
Moving over to the bed, with one hand still drying his hair with the towel, Chusheng reaches for his pillow. As he tugs on it, however, he’s met with resistance, someone not stubbornly not relinquishing his hold.
Ah, Chusheng thinks.
Slipping into the other side of the bed, Chusheng leans over Lu Yao on his side to switch the lamp off. He has to look at some documents tonight, so he keeps his own lamp on. Lu Yao is an unmoving lump next to him, but Chusheng knows he’s not asleep.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks a while later.
“… heart’s still racing from earlier,” Lu Yao mumbles after a moment of silence. “The three of you holding guns to your heads and firing one after the other, you know that I have a weak heart and can’t take things like that.”
Chusheng sees Lu Yao’s one lone shoulder not covered by the blanket, and the tension in Lu Yao’s body is obvious.
With another soft sigh, Chusheng switches the lights off and sets his papers on the bedside table. Then he shifts closer to Lu Yao and simply draws the man against him. His arms go around the taller man tight, Lu Yao’s head tucked under his chin as Chusheng curls up around him.
They don’t say a word, but after a few breaths, Lu Yao melts into his hold with a shudder and Chusheng accepts all of Lu Yao comfortably. A hand covers his own where it’s lying on San Tu’s chest, and then San Tu brings it up to his lips, kissing at the back of it.
What exactly are they doing? Regular friends don’t cuddle like this in bed together. Hell, if he had to do this with any of his brothers he would rather sleep out on the streets.
To him San Tu is different, Chusheng knows that much.
“Don’t do that again,” Lu Yao says, so softly.
Chusheng hears the fire a gun at your head part loud and clear.
“Got it,” he murmurs. “Now sleep, San Tu.”
Whatever this is, he decides, the both of them can figure it out tomorrow.
As if affirming his thought, Lu Yao intertwines their fingers together over where Lu Yao’s heart is.