Work Text:
Jiang Cheng sits on the bench, his back against the cold tile wall, legs drawn up to his chest. He’s got earbuds in, music cranked up as high as it will go to block out the nervous bustle that fills the locker room before the meet. His first race isn’t for at least half an hour, and he should be in the warm-up pool already, but he caught sight of Wen Zhuliu in the stands. Worse, he made eye contact with Wen Chao, and his hands haven’t stopped shaking.
And worse still, the coaches are making their final pass through the locker room, ushering the swimmers out to the pool. Jiang Cheng curls in, rests his head on his knees, and breathes. He’s almost calm when something brushes his arm.
He does not let out a shriek. He simply shifts into alertness with surprising speed to find Nie Huaisang standing in front him, arms crossed at his waist, looking worried. Jiang Cheng pulls his earbuds out and tries to calm his racing heart.
“I’m sorry, A-Cheng! I called your name, like, three times.”
“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng wheezes. “What do you want?”
Huaisang eyes the bench, and Jiang Cheng scoots over to make room for him. Huaisang takes advantage of the empty locker room to loop an arm around Jiang Cheng’s waist and lean against him.
“Xichen-ge sent me to look for you. He said you’re supposed to be in the pool warming up.”
“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng curses, “I forgot he charmed his way into the meet as a lane judge.” He pokes Huaisang in the side. “This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t blabbed to your brother, I wouldn’t be stuck with a babysitter.”
“On the contrary,” Huaisang says, returning the poke, “it’s your fault. If you’d simply let me arrange for a little accident to befall those Wen shitheads, you wouldn’t have to hide out in the locker room.”
“I’m not hiding!” Jiang Cheng protests.
“Oh?” Huaisang arches a brow. “Then what are you doing?”
“I, uh, I was waiting.”
“For what?”
“For my good luck kiss!” Jiang Cheng blurts out. He feels the flames of humiliation sweep across his face, but he makes defiant eye contact with Huaisang.
Huaisang laughs, musical and lovely, and he obliges, planting a swift kiss on Jiang Cheng’s lips. “That’s all the luck you need,” he says, dodging Jiang Cheng’s attempt to steal another. “Especially here in public.”
“We’re alone in here,” Jiang Cheng pouts.
“Hey, these are your rules, not mine,” Huaisang retorts. “Or do you not remember meeting me backstage in the auditorium last week and refusing so much as to hug me?”
“We weren’t alone! There were at least three people up in the sound booth.”
“And there are at least a hundred people out and about. A person could walk in at any second.” Huaisang smiles sweetly and bats his eyes, and Jiang Cheng knows he’s not going to win any arguments tonight.
“If I lose my heat, it’s going to be your fault for not giving me enough luck.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Huaisang stands and offers a hand to Jiang Cheng.
“Your nails,” Jiang Cheng says.
“Do you like them?” Huaisang wiggles his fingers, each nail painted purple, with J-I-A-N-G on his left hand and C-H-E-N-G on his right. “Your sister helped me.” He retrieves a fan from his back pocket and flicks it open. It, too, is a vibrant purple, background to a stark white lotus flower and the initials JC. “You’ve got a cheering section who’s going to be very disappointed if you don’t get your ass in the pool.”
“Section?” Jiang Cheng asks as he goes to his locker and takes out his towel, goggles, and swim cap.
“My brother, your sister, her boyfriend, Wen Qing, her brother. I think Meng Yao is out there somewhere.”
Jiang Cheng focused on folding his jacket and sweatpants. He takes out a pair of shorts to wear on his way to the pool. “And Wei Ying?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Huaisang shakes his head, and Jiang Cheng fights down a surge of disappointment, but Huaisang says, “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but oh my god, A-Cheng, I think he was possessed by the craft fairy! He has the biggest sign, even bigger than the pep clubs! And so much glitter! Lan Wangji is here, holding up one end. I’ve never seen someone look so unhappy in my whole life!”
Jiang Cheng grins. “To be fair,” he says, slamming the door on his locker shut and pulling on the shorts, “that’s pretty much how he always looks.”
“Oh no,” Huaisang replies as he takes Jiang Cheng’s hand, “this is a whole other level.”
Jiang Cheng’s grin widens. He hands Huaisang his phone. “Pictures,” he says, “as many as you can get.”
“Aww, baby, I’m gonna take so many pictures of you in your lil suit,” Huaisang coos.
“Of my family, Huaisang, fuck!” He pauses at the locker room door. “Keep those other pics on your own phone.”
“Fiiiine,” Huaisang says with an exaggerated sigh. He reaches around, puts a hand on the back of Jiang Cheng’s neck, and pulls him down. “Good luck,” he says, offering one more kiss. “And just remember, no matter what happens, I’m really fucking proud of you.”
Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Huaisang’s, just for a moment. “Thank you.”
“Always. We got your back.” Huaisang steps back and opens the door. “Now go on. Kick ass.”