Work Text:
October 2020, Beijing
“You really can’t help yourself, can you?”
Yibo smirked, stretching gratuitously against Xiao Zhan as they spooned on the couch together to watch Tian Tian Xiang Shang. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Xiao Zhan moved one arm from around Yibo’s waist to smack a thigh. “You, singing along on camera to Yisa Yu’s songs as if easy listening is remotely your speed.”
“Just trying to be a good host! Anyway,” Yibo said with another gremlin smirk, “it’s honestly impossible not to know all her songs by heart when some old dude keeps singing them over and over around me. Old. As in practically thirty.”
“You!” Xiao Zhan tightened his arms around Yibo and dug his fingers into his abs, triggering squeals and full-body spasms that threatened to throw them both to the floor.
“Stop! Stop! Oh my god, stop!” Yibo’s laughter rang through the apartment, and then abruptly fell apart as he started to cough.
Xiao Zhan released him immediately, his face a mask of concern. “Shit, are you okay? Can you breathe? I’ll go get your inhaler… I can make you some tea--” He started to get up, but Yibo grabbed his arm.
“No, please... I’m fine... Don’t go… Stay here with me. Please?” He looked up, wide eyed, as he made a show of breathing steadily and evenly.
Xiao Zhan watched the rise and fall of Yibo’s chest, his brow seeming to relax with each breath. “Ooookaaay…” he agreed warily. “I’m sorry, tiantian, I shouldn’t have--”
“Oh god, don’t apologize, Ge!” Yibo rolled his eyes and shoved Xiao Zhan’s shoulder. “I’m not some delicate thing, and if you stopped horsing around with me out of worry for my health, then you should just kill me now because life just wouldn’t be worth living.”
“No need to be so dramatic, Lao Wang,” Xiao Zhan groaned. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately. Taking it easy during your days off wouldn’t be the worst idea.”
He smoothed Yibo’s dark hair back, massaging his scalp and kneading his fingers into the back of his neck. Yibo closed his eyes in contentment and sighed happily.
“Ahhh,” Yibo smiled, suddenly swooning in Xiao Zhan’s arms. “Will Zhan-ge take care of me then? I think he should, since he tickled me so violently and made me cough.”
With a smile, Xiao Zhan lightly slapped Yibo’s cheek, and they both giggled, thinking back to that magical summer of filming…
August 2018, Hengdian
“I already said I was sorry! Will you let it go?”
Yibo was gingerly touching his cheek as Xiao Zhan swept up. Seeing him approach, Yibo quickly moved to cradle the other side of his face while pouting cartoonishly at Xiao Zhan.
“Aiyaa, it still hurts! You hit me!”
Xiao Zhan exhaled heavily, but indulgently held Yibo’s shoulders and peered at the cheek that Yibo was rubbing.
“I don’t see anything. I really don’t think I hit you with Chen Qing. Maybe it was just the tassel? Here, let me see.”
He tried to put his hand to Yibo’s cheek, but in a flash, Yibo slapped his hand away, a combative look on his face.
“Hey, I’m not trying to hurt you!” Xiao Zhan protested. “If you’re going to keep whining about it, at least let me take a look.”
Yibo slapped his hand away again, and then swung his right hand out in an arc towards Xiao Zhan’s face, ending in a loud SLAP in Yibo’s left hand.
Xiao Zhan jumped back. “What the fuck, Yibo?” Seeing the smirk on Yibo’s face, Xiao Zhan growled, “Oh, so that’s how you want to play? Maybe I should slap you for real, you brat!” He raised his hand, and then pulled back with a laugh, seeing Yibo’s expression of outrage.
Yibo craned his neck to angle his cheek towards Xiao Zhan. “You always bully me, Zhan-ge,” he whined. “Look where you hit me.” He pointed at his cheek while Xiao Zhan leaned in, humoring him with a shocked gasp, his hand over his mouth.
“Waaaahhh, it’s grotesque. A terrible injury. Surely, Lao Wang’s career as an idol is over,” Xiao Zhan lamented as Yibo continued to pat his cheek. “Should we tell the director to get you to the hospital for medical attention?”
Yibo smiled. “Oh, I think attention from Zhan-ge will be enough.”
“Are you sure? What can I do to make you feel better?” Xiao Zhan asked, one eyebrow cocked up. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it, okay Lao Wang?”
Yibo raised an interested eyebrow in reply. “I’ll hold you to that tonight.”
-------------
Days later, though, Yibo was still complaining about Xiao Zhan hurting him.
It came up in a joint interview, when Xiao Zhan joked about Yibo, “You’re always hitting me. Always scolding me.” It wasn’t much of an exaggeration -- Yibo craved physical contact and attention from Xiao Zhan every day, and there weren’t many other socially acceptable ways to get it during their long days on set.
One afternoon in particular, when they were filming outside the Nie Sect tomb, Xiao Zhan had gotten on his case for taking their roughhousing too far. Xiao Zhan had been showing off some martial arts move when Yibo suddenly grabbed a wrist and a hand and twisted them to lock Xiao Zhan’s arms across his chest.
Xiao Zhan had frozen for a moment, as if unsure of what Yibo was going to do. Usually when Yibo wanted to tussle with him, he’d break into a smirk and slap him on the ass with his sleeves, and that would be that.
This time, though, Yibo’s face had turned dark, his eyes intense and focused, not on Xiao Zhan’s eyes, but on his lips. Xiao Zhan had gone a little weak in the knees from the intensity of Yibo’s gaze, made even more intimidating because Yibo was in his high-heeled boots and for once was able to look down on him.
“Lao Wang.”
Yibo hadn’t answered, and instead flung Xiao Zhan forcefully to the side, as if to drive him up against the wall of the Nie Sect tomb. No one seemed to be reacting to their wrestling anyway -- so why not have a little fun, play out a snippet of fantasy to fuel their nighttime activities back at the hotel?
“Lao Wang.”
When Yibo still didn’t answer, Xiao Zhan had pushed off from the ground to launch himself away from the wall in an attempt to defuse the stifling sexual tension. “Remember where we are,” he had hissed under his breath. “Someone’s behind you, filming everything.” Yibo still had Xiao Zhan’s arms firmly in his grasp, so all Xiao Zhan could do was to gesture to the staff person with his chin and hope that Yibo would back off.
Back in the interview room, though, Yibo was determined to cast Xiao Zhan as the bully between them.
“Who’s hitting who, eh?”
“Wang Yibo, Wang Yibo,” Xiao Zhan replied, smiling.
“Who’s hitting who again?” Yibo repeated, intent on playing the victim.
Xiao Zhan held out his hands, trying to show that he was the more pitiable. “I’ve got scars.”
Undeterred, Yibo asked again, more insistent. “Who was hitting who?”
Xiao Zhan stood his ground. “You hit me.”
Yibo glared, imperious. “Try again.”
Realizing that Yibo was not going to give in, and not wanting to continue to make a scene in front of rolling cameras, Xiao Zhan sighed and mumbled in resignation, “I hit you.”
-------------
With less than a week left of filming, Yibo was still milking his injuries for attention from Xiao Zhan, even as Xiao Zhan was backing away from yet another barrage of shoves and slaps from Yibo.
“That’s enough.”
“Aiyaa, my face hurts so much,” Yibo whined, patting his cheek in what was becoming an all-too-familiar gesture.
“Is it really that serious?” Xiao Zhan rolled his eyes with a fond look on his face. He knew the game now. “It’s been so long.”
“You hit me.”
Xiao Zhan slumped in mock exasperation, settling into their routine. “When did I hit you? Nonsense.”
Pointing at Ji Li, minding his own business nearby, Yibo declared triumphantly, “Evidence!”
“Aiyo, it’s Wang Laoshi that always hits me and leaves scars.”
“When did I do that?” Yibo demanded.
Mirroring Yibo, Xiao Zhan pointed at the camera and laughed, “Evidence!”
And then they dissolved into giggles together, leaving Ji Li and the cameraman to wonder how they’d gotten dragged into this farce.
Yibo smiled. “I have evidence of you too!”
“Hey,” Xiao Zhan began after a beat, to change the subject. “Want to play Overwatch?”
“Nah.”
“Well,” Xiao Zhan sighed, “in six days we’re all leaving.” This was a hard fact to face. Of course, they’d see each other afterwards, but it had been such a gift, to have had this time together on set, to deepen the bond they’d already had, to indulge their true feelings in a safe and accepting space. It was something they hadn’t had much of before.
Time.
And now it was running out.
They waved playfully at each other for the camera, like children. “Bye!”
“Come find me at the room,” Xiao Zhan urged.
Yibo stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “Which place, what floor, what room? What time?”
October 2020, Beijing
“Hey,” Yibo murmured, still smiling over their shared reminiscence. “Where did you find that song, anyway?”
“Mn? Which song?”
“You know,” Yibo prompted, “the song about the FBI agent going to building 5, floor 20, room 805…”
“Ah, yes, the Dream 5 song… Whale Circus? I like that kind of atmospheric music when I’m drawing, or trying to meditate. The album came out in April 2017, and it was perfect timing, since I was under so much stress while filming The Wolf.”
Xiao Zhan laughed, and went on. “Except for Dream 5 -- it was a bit jarring, this spoken word interlude, talking about secret missions to assassinate WWII leaders and terrorists… like, where the hell did that come from? But I remember that last line freaked me out the first time I heard it… “Building 5, floor 20, room 805” -- I mean, we hadn’t known each other that long at that point, and it felt… eerie to have a song recite those numbers, you know?”
Yibo sat up, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “April? I’m pretty sure you didn’t share this song with me until you were back in Beijing, though.”
“God, Yibo, why would I have? 520 805? As if I’m gonna send that to a guy I’d just met and say, ‘Hey check out this song I’ve been listening to -- it has ‘I love you Yibo’ in kadian in the lyrics, isn’t that interesting?’”
Yibo smirked. “Well, I wasn’t just any guy. And it was interesting. It was a sign.”
“Ooooh, look at you,” Xiao Zhan teased, a lilting tone to his voice. “Buying into signs and superstitions.”
“I can’t argue with the outcome. And it agreed with what I already knew in my gut, so…” Yibo shrugged, and settled back into Xiao Zhan’s arms.
He grinned at Xiao Zhan. “So of course, when Tian Tian Xiang Shang asked you to share a song list for your appearance last year, you just had to fill your playlist full of puzzles, as you do.”
“What puzzles? I still listen to all the songs I listed!” He gave Yibo a knowing look. “But clearly I couldn’t include Dream 5 -- that would have been too obvious.”
[Xiao Zhan’s playlist as shown for the July 28, 2019 Tian Tian Xiang Shang episode. The first three tracks are Yisa Yu (郁可唯) songs. Six tracks from the Whale Circus Dreaming Vol. 3 album are also listed.]
“Anyway,” Xiao Zhan continued, giving Yibo a slap on the ass, “nobody asked you to show off on national TV that you know Yisa Yu songs.”
“And by the way,” he added, suddenly animated, “what was with the bit in the beginning of the episode, about what song describes you? I mean, I expect Da Laoshi to drop cheeky hints about us, but Han-ge? They both thought you were going to say “The Brightest Star in the Night Sky?”
Yibo slapped Xiao Zhan’s arm playfully. “Oh, you just noticed that, huh? I was wondering why you didn’t say anything!”
“You just can’t keep a secret, can you?” Xiao Zhan laughed. “You just had to tell your brothers I was going to sing that song for you? I mean, I hadn’t even recorded the performance when you taped this episode, and here you guys are, cuing the song.”
Yibo groaned. “And how am I supposed to stay quiet about this amazing man of mine, hm?”
“Aiyaa, you little brat! When my performance airs, it’ll be clear as day what this whole exchange in the episode was about -- and that I’m singing it for you.”
Yibo bit his lips and shrank down into Xiao Zhan’s arms, resting his head on his chest -- but he smiled as he did it, because this was yet another familiar script for them.
Xiao Zhan wasn’t mad. He couldn’t be mad. Not at Yibo, his shining star. Through the whole mess of a year -- no, for far longer -- Yibo had been his light, his 24 hour support, and he was long past trying to hide his love for him.
Whenever I am lost in darkness and fail to find the meaning of life, he sang, his clear voice filling the room. Oh brightest star in the night sky, please shine the path towards you.
Yibo raised his head as the last note faded away. “Oh, don’t stop singing, Ge.”
Xiao Zhan patted his cheek. “Okay. I won’t.”