Work Text:
Zhang Xinjie spent a lot of time alone. Alone was quiet and peaceful, giving him time to think, giving him the space he needed to work through his thoughts. It meant he could think without having to ignore any noises around him, let him keep his focus on his work and nothing else. Zhang Xinjie liked to work alone, liked to spend time with no one but himself for company.
His parents told him fondly that he used to sequester himself away with the supplies he wanted, keeping himself away from the other children around him until he was finished with his work. He re-join them when he was finished but he didn’t like to hear the loud chatter and excited shrieks of the other children while he was busy painting.
There was a photo of him as a child, streaks of paint across his cheeks as he pointed at various points of his shaky calligraphy, beaming smile on his face. His parents would smile and recall that he claimed a large section of the kitchen for himself, studiously burying himself in his work, refusing to engage with anyone until he was finished.
Zhang Xinjie was less inclined to just cover his ears until people left him alone these days, leaving behind those childish impulses as he grew up, but he never changed his opinion that the best way to work was in silence and in one’s own company and no one else.
By the time he debuted in Tyranny, he’d managed to find the balance between asserting his preference for his own company while working, without alienating everyone around him. It was well-known that if Zhang Xinjie had something he was working on, match analysis, training schedules, performance reports, whatever it was, he would often slip out of the room and find somewhere quiet to work.
Zhang Xinjie’s schedule was easily accessible, made public to all of Tyranny’s members, something that allowed him to work in the peace and quiet without interruption. He found himself briefly distracted from his transcribing by a soft smile stealing over his face at the memory of his team checking his schedule to see if he was too absorbed in his work to speak with them.
He shook his head briefly, reminding himself to stay focused on his transcribing as the notes had to be sent to the team tonight in order to give them enough time to look over them before their next training session. Zhang Xinjie lost himself in the rhythm of the copying, the only sound his own breathing and the clack of his keys.
His phone alarm made him startle out of his daze, realising that it was time for a break, to let his eyes rest for a while before going back to work. Zhang Xinjie shifted, ready to go fetch a drink only to pause at the sight of the mug on his desk, steam curling up from the rim. He caught the scent on the air, the familiar notes of apricot, sharp and enticing.
Zhang Xinjie pulled his phone from his pocket, sending a quick message to Han Wenqing, knowing that it was his partner who’d crept in silently to leave him a drink.
Zhang Xinjie: Thank you.
Han Wenqing: Did I make it correctly?
Zhang Xinjie took a long sip and sighed, contentment flowing through him along with the warmth. He savoured the flavour; made exactly the way he always did. Something soft and fond spreading through his chest at the thought of Han Wenqing spending time learning how he made his tea and perfecting the process until it tasted exactly how Zhang Xinjie enjoyed it.
The romantic part of him suggested that it may even taste better as Han Wenqing had been the one to make it.
Zhang Xinjie: It’s perfect, thank you.
He let his mind wander as he sipped at his tea, savouring the bittersweet flavour, remembering the time Huang Shaotian had leant over to steal Yu Wenzhou’s cup, taking a long sip before making a face as he swallowed, nose scrunched up. He’d collapsed dramatically across his boyfriend’s lap, complaining about the bitter taste, about how Zhang Xinjie had the worst taste in tea- the worst taste in food- did Yu Wenzhou remember the vinegar, too much vinegar, what strange flavours Zhang Xinjie enjoyed-
Yu Wenzhou silenced his vice-captain with a sharp look, meeting Zhang Xinjie’s eyes with fond exasperation written across his face. Huang Shaotian had gazed happily up at Yu Wenzhou as they continued chatting about the new map released in Glory, both savouring the tea.
Zhang Xinjie resurfaced from his thoughts as his next alarm rang out, reminding him that his break was over. He pulled himself out of the memory and turned back to his notes, knowing that if he didn’t get distracted he could finish the work within the hour. Zhang Xinjie kept his gaze on the screen and not on the mug of tea, soft smile never leaving his lips.
Han Wenqing was startled out his thoughts by Zhang Xinjie’s hand brushing against his shoulder, warm even through the cloth. His boyfriend moved to one of the cupboards, pulling down the ingredients he needed to make two cups of tea. Han Wenqing kept his eyes on Zhang Xinjie as he moved through the kitchen, boiling the water, steeping the tea, content to soak in his presence.
“You’re staring,” Zhang Xinjie murmured as he placed a mug in front of Han Wenqing and took a seat.
“It’s how I learnt to make the tea.” Han Wenqing offered in response and Zhang Xinjie’s lips pulled into a fond smile, leaning to rest his head against his captain’s shoulder with an agreeing hum. It was peaceful with Han Wenqing, as it always was.
Zhang Xinjie was curled up in his bed with Han Wenqing’s head in his lap and their gaze was on some new drama Huang Shaotian had recommended. Even though they knew Huang Shaotian would be eager to hear their opinions when they let slip that they’d started watching, neither were really paying attention to the show. In fact, Han Wenqing’s eyes were fluttering shut, soothed into sleep by Zhang Xinjie’s hands carding through his hair.
He was startled out of his half-asleep state by Zhang Xinjie’s alarm going off, the signal that his partner still had work to do and that it was time for him to leave. Han Wenqing shoved down the urge to refuse to shift from Zhang Xinjie’s lap, he wasn’t a child, wasn’t prone to pouting when he didn’t get his way, even if he wanted to.
Han Wenqing watched as Zhang Xinjie moved to his desk, laptop already warming up and he moved off the bed reluctantly, walking over to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek before he became too absorbed in his work. Before he could leave, his wrist was caught in Zhang Xinjie’s hand, the other’s head tilted to the side, brow furrowed slightly.
“You’re leaving?” Han Wenqing couldn’t help but wonder why it was even a question, everyone knew that Zhang Xinjie preferred his own company when he was working.
“Without the noise of others, it’s easier to remain focused,” he’d once said and Han Wenqing held himself back from pointing out that Zhang Xinjie was rarely distracted, even when others couldn’t maintain their focus.
“You’ve always preferred to work in the quiet, to avoid disturbances.” Zhang Xinjie blinked a few times before replying.
“But you aren’t a disturbance.” And that isn’t romantic, objectively it isn’t romantic, and the way Zhang Xinjie says it isn’t romantic either, matter of fact and serious. But it’s earnest and so very honest, as if Zhang Xinjie is stating something overwhelmingly obvious and that makes Han Wenqing’s chest warm all the way through, tight with fondness.
“I don’t want to distract you from your work-“ And he doesn’t expect Zhang Xinjie to stand and curl his fingers around his wrist, touch comforting.
“It’s okay to stay you know,” Zhang Xinjie smiled at him, “if you want to.” Han Wenqing blinked a few times before he nodded.
“I’d like to stay.” His vice-captain pressed a kiss to his cheek before he sat back down in front of his work and Han Wenqing made himself comfortable on Zhang Xinjie’s bed, watching one of the matches he’d missed and could only read Zhang Xinjie’s notes on the tactics.
“The notes were very accurate,” he thought to himself, not that he’d expected anything else from his vice-captain, Tyranny was important to both of them and Zhang Xinjie worked hard to ensure the team would never be heading into a match unprepared.
The rhythmic clack of Zhang Xinjie’s keyboard was a relaxing background noise and despite his best efforts, Han Wenqing found himself slowly falling asleep, eyes slipping shut before he noticed.
When Zhang Xinjie finished his work he turned back to find Han Wenqing fast asleep and he couldn’t help the warmth in his chest at the sight. While usually the sound of someone shifting around while he worked would be distracting, Han Wenqing’s noises were simply part of the background, familiar and comforting.
He moved over to the bed and pressed a kiss to Han Wenqing’s forehead, loathe to wake him up, and so he shifted his captain carefully until his head was in his lap so he could run his fingers though his hair. He had time, there was nothing in his schedule and this moment was so warm and relaxing that Zhang Xinjie couldn’t help but be content.
He was glad he’d asked Han Wenqing to stay.