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“Oh fuck no. Absolutely not.”
There’s no acceptable reason as to why when He Xuan opens his front door, on the other side stands the literal bane of his existence in all his six foot glory, holding a bouquet of roses.
You see, his best friend and roommate, Xie Lian, had been dating someone for the past couple of months. Someone called San Lang, who’s name was always said with a dreamy sigh and heart eyes. And when He Xuan tried to get any semblance of a description of him, all he’d received was a rosy-cheeked Xie Lian waxing poetry over how ‘handsome’ and ‘charming’ his supposed boyfriend is.
He Xuan also found his pet piranha fish handsome and charming, so for all he knew, this guy could have sharp teeth and a penchant for biting his fingers.
The description is not too far off, in the end.
“Why the hell are you here?” Hua Cheng snaps, recovering quickly enough to push the door back open when He Xuan tries to slam it in his face.
“I live here. Why the hell are you here?”
Hua Cheng narrows his eye. “This is my boyfriend's apartment.”
“Thanks, but I’m not interested. Like, not even if you and I were the last two people in the world and the fate of humanity depended on us for its survival, not interested,” says He Xuan, putting all his weight against the door to shove it closed. Hua Cheng sticks his foot between it and the frame, as if He Xuan wouldn’t dare to break both him and his stupid designer boots.
He would, but unfortunately he doesn't get the chance.
“San Lang!”
Both of them freeze.
Then the stalemate is broken, and somehow the strength on the other side of the door increases tenfold as Hua Cheng forces his way inside to greet, “Gege!”
The action has He Xuan hurtling backwards into the wall, head knocking against the surface and the swing of the door meeting right with his nose. Grasping at the coat hanger to stabilize himself, something cold starts to trickle over his lips. When he reflexively licks them, he’s met with the metallic bitterness of blood.
It takes more than a few moments for his vision to return from its bleary blackness, but when it does, the sight waiting for him makes him wish the hit had just knocked him unconscious instead.
His best friend and that incarnation of hell have their lips locked in passionate kiss, bouquet fallen to the ground forgotten beside them.
—
He Xuan hisses as a wet paper towel is dabbed against his nose, Xie Lian carefully attempting to wipe the bloodstains from his face.
“It’s not broken, just bruised,” he concludes, tongue poking out in concentration while he holds He Xuan’s jaw in place. “I’ve seen Feng Xin and Mu Qing break each other’s noses plenty of times, and it's always much worse than this.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He Xuan snorts, immediately regretting the action when the pain flares up again.
Xie Lian notices his wince and frowns. “Are you alright?”
“Why don’t you ask him if I’m alright,” says He Xuan, shooting a withering glare at the asshole currently propping two feet up on his coffee table.
“I’m sure San Lang didn’t mean to hurt you, right?”
Hua Cheng glares back, steely attention focused on the fingers now cupping He Xuan’s cheek. His voice betrays none of his murderous gaze, “Of course not, Gege.”
“There!” Xie Lian smiles, wiping the last of blood away. “Now let me go get you some ice.”
The both of them watch as he disappears into the kitchen, then shift their gazes to size each other up. After a minute of tense silence, He Xuan is the first to speak.
“Nice to meet you, San Lang,” he mocks, spitting out the name like it's something rotten.
“Call me that again and I’ll cut your tongue out.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“That can be arranged—”
Xie Lian reenters the room, and the rest of Hua Cheng’s threat is lost to him snapping his mouth shut before he can hear it.
“I take it you two know each other, then?” Xie Lian hums, passing He Xuan an ice pack and settling besides Hua Cheng on the couch. The other of whom takes it upon himself to snake his arm around Xie Lian’s waist and pull him in so they're pressed up against each other. It makes He Xuan want to gag.
“Nope.”
“No way.”
“I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” they both finish, which has them sneering at each other in disgust.
Xie Lian’s gaze flickers between them a few times, brows furrowing as a complicated expression crosses his features. It’s only there for the time it takes He Xuan to blink before it’s gone, an easy smile taking its place. All he does is hum a quiet agreement, but doesn't prod any further.
“Then allow me to introduce you both,” Xie Lian continues, “San Lang, this is my best friend and roommate, He Xuan. He Xuan, this is my San Lang I’ve been telling you about.”
He Xuan’s nose scrunches up at the term of endearment.
“It’s Hua Cheng to you,” the pest adds, snuggling his head into the crook of Xie Lian’s neck.
He Xuan wishes he could time travel back to fifteen minutes ago when his home was minus one Hua Cheng. It’d be even better if he could dimension hop into a world where there was zero Hua Cheng.
Yet he’s stuck here. Because fate is cruel like that.
“What a pleasure to have you,” he says dryly. “Feel free to show yourself out the door at your earliest convenience.”
Xie Lian laughs, fruitlessly trying to diffuse the growing tension in the room. “Don’t say that, He Xuan. You guys just started on the wrong foot. Why don’t we apologize and move on?”
He Xuan sticks his swollen nose in the air. “And why should I apologize? I’m the one who got my face smashed in.”
“I gave you a free nose job. God knows you needed it.”
“San Lang—”
“Why don’t I give you a matching one then?”
“He Xuan—”
“My face is perfectly flawless, thank you.”
“You mean perfectly flawed?”
A loud whistle cuts through their bickering.
Xie Lian lowers his fingers from his mouth and clears his throat. “I won’t force you to get along with each other, but can you at least be civil? You’re both very important to me and I was hoping we could spend some time together.”
He Xuan chews on the inside of his cheek, briefly making eye contact with Hua Cheng.
“Alright.”
He hopes he doesn’t end up regretting this.
—
Foolishly, He Xuan thinks that encounter will be the end of it. That like the past few months of their relationship, Xie Lian will favor his boyfriend’s home and He Xuan will never have to see that knock-off brand pirate ever again.
But it seems Hua Cheng has other plans, as he’s practically become a third resident from the amount of time he spends in their apartment.
“I want to get to know my boyfriend’s roommate better,” he had answered when He Xuan cornered him on the sixth consecutive night Xie Lian had asked if it were okay for Hua Cheng to stay over.
“You don’t mind?” Xie Lian had double-checked when he grumbled out his agreement. “It’s your home too, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
He Xuan wasn’t weak to many things, and you could pull out all his teeth before he let Hua Cheng hear him say this but, “As long as he makes you happy, I don’t care. Do what you want.”
He did care. He would rather house a dozen toddlers than Hua Cheng.
Still, he was weak to Xie Lian’s happiness. Out of all the billions of people in the world, He Xuan would go to war to argue that Xie Lian is the one who deserves it the most.
And so, he deals with this bullshit.
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?”
Hua Cheng is splayed out across his bed, feet kicking in the air as he smashes buttons on a Nintendo Switch. He doesn’t even glance up from his game when he replies, “Gege’s not here. It’d be rude for me to enter his private space without his permission first.”
He Xuan grits his teeth. “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”
“Yeah, but the difference is I don’t respect you enough to care.”
“And the living room wasn't an option? Or the kitchen?”
“Nope!” Hua Cheng exclaims, obnoxiously popping the ‘p’ and spitting his disgusting Hua Cheng germs all over He Xuan’s comforter. Great. Now he’s got to do laundry.
Eyes narrowing in on the console, He Xuan spots familiar glittery shark stickers decorating the back. They were an addition made by Shi Qingxuan because “The plain grey is so boring, A-Xuan! This gives it more pizazz! Who doesn’t want a little more sparkle in their life?”
He Xuan does not want any sparkle nor pizazz in his life. In fact, the quality of his miserable existence would benefit exponentially if the people around him could stop being so overbearingly energetic. This is why Xie Lian is his favorite.
“Is that mine?” He Xuan asks, reaching to swipe it out of the gremlin’s hands. Hua Cheng rolls over to avoid him and continues playing like he’s not even there. “Hey dipshit, what are you doing with my switch?”
“Animal Crossing. Gege showed me his island the other day and I wanted to make my own so I could go visit him.”
That seems pretty harmless, except—
“Make your own?” He Xuan’s eyes widen as dread slowly coils in his gut. He launches himself at Hua Cheng and yells, “You can’t make more than one island on one account! What the fuck did you do?!”
He Xuan snatches the console back, and to his horror, his villager usually decked in black from head to toe has had a complete makeover. He’s wearing a nauseatingly bright red outfit, with fancy boots and a traditional umbrella twirling between his stumpy hands. A black eyepatch rests over his left eye.
“It’s pretty sick of them not having the option to move it to the right eye,” Hua Cheng comments, like He Xuan gives a flying fuck about his lack of representation in a children’s game when he deleted his whole island and started it from scratch.
“Where is all my stuff.”
“Oh don’t worry,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “I gave it all to Gege before I wiped it. His villager was poor and I thought it’d make a good placeholder until I earned enough to provide for—fuck!”
They both fall to the floor as He Xuan tackles Hua Cheng off the bed, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him like a bobble head. “I SPENT OVER 300 HOURS ON THAT!”
Hua Cheng looks unfazed by his turmoil, but an annoyed tick appears at the corners of his lips when he says, “You’re going to wrinkle my shirt.”
A fuse blows.
And then they’re wrestling on the floor, yanking at each other’s hair and kicking at each other’s ribs, spewing profanities that would earn them both a bar of soap in their mouths if either of them still had any parents around to care. He Xuan gains the upper ground, twisting Hua Cheng’s arm behind his back and pinning him to the floor.
“I only needed one more fish until my aquarium was complete!”
Hua Cheng flips them over by jerking his body to the side, He Xuan's head slamming into the hardwood as the asshole’s weight crushes the air out of his lungs. Coughing and sputtering, He Xuan uses his hands to grab Hua Cheng’s chin and push his jaw so it twists at an uncomfortable angle.
“Who gives a fuck about your stupid fake aquarium?” Hua Cheng hisses, snatching a pillow off the bed and pressing it against his face. He Xuan holds onto the wrists cutting off his ability to breathe and digs his nails in hard enough to break skin.
“What are you two doing?”
The pressure holding him down disappears, leaving He Xuan wheezing as air flows back into his lungs.
“Gege!” A sickeningly sweet voice chirps, like the owner hadn't just been caught attempting murder. He Xuan would slap him if he weren't trying so hard to catch his breath. “We’re only playing around. Right, didi?”
If looks could kill, he would’ve ended Hua Cheng's life a million times over with the glare he shoots his way.
A sigh cuts through their stare down, both of their heads snapping to see Xie Lian pinch the space between his brow. He studies them with a disappointed frown, then turns on his heel and walks away.
Hua Cheng jumps to his feet, kneeing He Xuan in the gut as he does, and holds out his hand.
An offer for a temporary truce.
He Xuan takes it and allows himself to be yanked back up with a force that nearly dislocates his arm.
—
They sit side by side on the couch, silent and repentful like two children about to be scolded.
Hua Cheng’s leg is bouncing, shaking the entire surface of their shared seat. It's a dead giveaway of his nerves, despite the cool and relaxed position he holds himself in. It’s also annoying as fuck.
“Can you quit that?”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
A tray being slammed onto the coffee table ends the argument before it can even begin, scalding hot tea swooshing over the edge of the cups and soaking the plates they sit on. Xie Lian wipes them off with a napkin before handing each of them one, his own sitting neglected as he stands before them with his hands on his hips.
“I’m going to ask you both something, and I’d appreciate it if you were honest with me. Is that okay?”
“Of course, Gege,” Hua Cheng agrees, taking a sip of his tea and letting out a satisfied hum.
“Whatever,” He Xuan also complies, but with much less enthusiasm. He doesn't dare drink the poison offered to him, instead passing it onto the end table before the aroma can kill his sense of smell for the rest of the day.
“Did you two, that is, have you,” Xie Lian awkwardly clears his throat and glances between them, previous gusto vanishing in the blink of an eye. He must lose the will to hover threateningly above them, so he drops onto the chair across from them instead. A gulp of tea is downed like some form of liquid courage, though He Xuan could admit whatever Xie Lian concocted was much more dangerous to the liver than alcohol ever could be.
It must work, because he finds the nerve to ask, “Have you two dated in the past?”
The silence that blankets the room is so extreme you could hear a pin drop.
He Xuan’s jaw has slackened, his crossed arms fallen back to his side, opening and closing his mouth like a fish flopping for breath on a pier deck. Hua Cheng, on the other hand, has devolved into a coughing fit that could put an eighty year old man with asthma to shame. He had been taking another sip when Xie Lian had spoken, and accidentally inhaled way too much tea at once. His body folds in on itself as he chokes, but He Xuan is so insulted he can’t even enjoy the sight of him in pain.
“I’m sorry, did I overstep? I didn’t mean to upset you, San Lang. You don’t need to answer if it makes you uncomfortable!” He promises, hesitantly rubbing Hua Cheng’s back and looking to He Xuan for help.
Not that he could be of much aid, his own brain still short circuiting with the implication of him and Hua Cheng ever being intimate with each other. That something in their interactions had made Xie Lian think it was a possibility at all. What about suffocating someone suggested past affections? He would make out with his piranha fish before he even considered touching Hua Cheng with a ten foot pole.
“What would you do if I said we had?” He starts, testing the waters. “Would you break up with him?”
Hua Cheng’s choking fit cuts off abruptly.
He looks to Xie Lian, but Xie Lian isn’t focused on him. He’s staring at He Xuan with an expression like he had told him to choose between throwing a litter of newborn kittens or puppies into a river.
He Xuan sighs. “Alright, I’m not serious. You can stop looking at me like that now.”
Xie Lian breathily exhales, “So you two haven’t—?”
“As if I’d lower my standards so drastically.”
“I’m not going to take that from a person who never grew out of their middle school goth phase,” Hua Cheng cuts in sharply. His voice turns much softer when he continues, “Gege, I told you you’re my first love, do you not believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but you don't have to love someone to date them, no?”
Finally breaking free of his internal dilemma, Hua Cheng moves towards Xie Lian’s side, kneeling in front of the chair and interlocking their hands. The sickly saccharine sweetness in his smile has He Xuan’s fingers twitching to throw his discarded tea in his face.
“I’ve only ever had eyes for you, Gege.”
“Eye, singular,” He Xuan interrupts. Hua Cheng ignores him.
“Me too,” hums Xie Lian, cheeks tinting red and oh, he’s gone. He Xuan’s lost him to fucking Clifford the Big Red Dog. “San Lang is also the only person I’ve ever loved this way.”
Neither of him seem to care he’s still very much sitting less than two feet away from them when their lips lock in a passionate kiss, Hua Cheng practically depositing himself into Xie Lian’s lap.
“I love you, Gege.”
“I love you more.”
“Impossible,” Xie Lian argues, but his fond smile never wavers. “I love San Lang most.”
“Well I love Gege the mostest.”
“And I hate the both of you,” He Xuan intervenes. Any more of this and he might puke up his lunch. “You do realize I’m still here, right?”
“Then fuck off.”
Xie Lian pats Hua Cheng’s head. “San Lang, be nice. I still wanted to ask how you know each other.”
Both their noses scrunch up, but Hua Cheng somehow overcomes his primal need to deny any association to He Xuan in the face of giving Xie Lian an answer. “We went to high school together.”
“Oh! So you’re old friends?”
“No,” Hua Cheng corrects, “I’m his debt collector.”
“Eh?” Xie Lian blinks, bemused.
He Xuan snorts. “I don’t owe you shit.”
“That’s not what your tab says.”
“You can take your stupid tab and shove it up your—”
“Alright, alright!” Xie Lian waves his hands, coaxing, “I get the point. Why don’t I treat you both to dinner?”
A denial begins to form on He Xuan’s lips until Xie Lian adds, “We’ll go to that nice noodle place a couple blocks from here. Does that work?”
He snaps his jaw shut and nods.
Later on, he’ll find he regrets being lured in by the promise of food when he has to slurp his noodles loudly to drown out the sound of their flirting.
—
The worst part about Hua Cheng practically making himself at home in their apartment is the fact that He Xuan and Xie Lian’s rooms are right next to each other.
So you can imagine how the nights go.
He Xuan could’ve lived his entire life without knowing what Hua Cheng’s moans sounded like. He’s tried slamming his head into multiple surfaces so he can contract amnesia and forget.
Unfortunately, nothing has worked yet.
And getting them to stop is near impossible. He’s tried banging against the wall, shouting increasingly murderous threats toward Hua Cheng of castration, and looping Baby Shark from his speakers at the highest volume to kill the mood. One time he had been woken up by the noise at four in the goddamn morning, and in his sleep-muddled haze thought it'd be a brilliant idea to storm into the room to physically separate them himself.
He Xuan is still recovering from that. It’s been three weeks. He’s considering admission to a mental hospital and making Hua Cheng foot the bill.
At least Xie Lian has a modicum of shame when these things happen, and he profusely apologizes by coming home with bags of He Xuan’s favorite snacks the next day. It does work for the most part. What kind of madman would say no to five thirty ounce cartons of extra cheddar goldfish crackers? Not him, that’s for sure.
Still, he can't allow this to go on much longer. Goldfish crackers won’t lighten the bags under his eyes or keep him from cutting off Hua Cheng’s dick.
“Just buy ear plugs,” is the brilliant solution the source of all of his problems has to offer.
He Xuan slams two ear plugs onto the counter. “I did. They don’t work. Try again.”
“Sounds like a you problem,” Hua Cheng says, twirling the end of his braid between his fingers as he swipes through a photo album of Xie Lian on his phone. Or maybe it would be more proper to call it just his regular album, as he doesn't take pictures of literally anything else. At He Xuan’s steely silence, he continues, “I don't know? Stab yourself in the ears so you’ll go deaf?”
“How about I stab you in your remaining eye so you’ll never be able to see Xie Lian ever again?”
“How about I cut out your tongue so I’ll never have to hear your nasally voice ever again?”
He Xuan snaps his fingers infront of Hua Cheng’s face. “Fix this or else I’m bringing it up with Xie Lian.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oh you know I do dare.”
“Are you guys arguing again?” Xie Lian says as he enters the apartment, two large boxes stacked in his arms. Hua Cheng scurries over to take one from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek when Xie Lian’s face appears from behind it.
“No arguments here. We promised we’d get along better, didn’t we?”
Xie Lian turns to He Xuan.
Behind him, he sees Hua Cheng mouth, ‘Shut up and I’ll buy you airpods.’
“We’re getting along fine, practically two peas in a pod,” He Xuan agrees, corner of his lips twitching up in a smirk.
That night he discovers he sleeps even better with whale noises looping in his ears.
—
Another downside to Xie Lian’s boyfriend staying over every night is that more often than not, Hua Cheng is the first thing He Xuan has to see after stumbling out of bed in the morning.
Or to be more specific, a Hua Cheng wearing nothing more than his boxer briefs (that are so form-fitting He Xuan can see all of the ass he doesn’t have) and a Kiss The Cook apron.
Today is no different.
He Xuan walks right past him and swipes a piece of bacon off one of the plates he’s preparing, Hua Cheng too focused on perfecting Xie Lian’s eggs for him to slap his hand away in time.
Doesn’t stop him from wrestling He Xuan into a chokehold and using his hand to squeeze his cheeks in an attempt to get him to spit it out, though.
“I didn’t cook that for you, you fucking cannibal.”
He Xuan swallows, stomping on Hua Cheng’s foot so the other hisses in pain and loosens his arms enough for him to break free. “Cannibal?”
“Yeah, cause you’re a pig,” Hua Cheng jeers, blocking He Xuan like a stupid goalkeeper when he tries to nab some more.
He Xuan trails his eyes over the tray—yes tray, Hua Cheng serves Xie Lian a breakfast in bed for at least more than half the week—full of eggs, bacon, a stack of pancakes, miniature blueberry muffins, a bowl of fruit, and a cup of raspberry lemonade in a mason jar with a swirly straw. All organic, as Hua Cheng has made a habit of mandating their grocery shopping since he “can’t allow Gege to have any of those manufactured toxins in his body.”
“Xie Lian doesn't have that large of an appetite, are you trying to make him puke all over you?” He Xuan considers it for a moment, then determines, “I bet you’d be into that.”
Hua Cheng ignores him, too busy drawing a ketchup heart on the eggs and placing apple slices into a smiley face.
“You know, common courtesy would suggest you cook for the person whose house you’re intruding on.”
Picking up the tray, Hua Cheng stalks out of the kitchen and heads toward Xie Lian’s room. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge. Go crazy.”
It’s more kindness than He Xuan had thought him capable of, so he only curses minimally under his breath as he opens the fridge and pulls out a plate covered in tinfoil.
What awaits him inside, however, has him yelling profanities after the laugh that rings out behind Xie Lian’s door.
There sits Xie Lian’s attempt at breakfast from yesterday, pancakes charred black and hard enough they could scratch the tiled floor if you dropped them.
He Xuan lets the plate clatter to the counter top, resigning himself to having to cook on his own. Yet when he shuffles through the storage cabinets, he finds nothing but a quarter of a moldy loaf of bread and his favorite cereal box empty with a barely legible post-it note saying, go get more.
He spits in Hua Cheng’s shoes on his way out to go to the bakery across the street.
—
This triggers a silent war between the two, one done behind closed curtains as Xie Lian would certainly put a stop to it if he knew.
Hua Cheng’s retaliation comes the next day while He Xuan’s in the shower.
After lathering shampoo in his mop of hair, he tilts his head back to feel the water pelt against his scalp in a rhythm that soothes his growing headache. He’d stayed up late facetiming Shi Qingxuan again, and once they started babbling it was near impossible to get them to stop. The call had ended when the beginnings of the sunrise had started to creep through his window, Shi Qingxuan knocked out cold like a child whose sugar rush had finally caught up with them.
He Xuan liked to take showers where the temperature was so hot it ached, leaving his skin afterwards tinted pink. There was an odd comfort in nearly giving yourself third degree burns. He never really bothered to question why.
But their apartment is far from high class, and the plumbing makes it so if the kitchen faucet is turned on all the heated water will appear there rather than the bathroom. Him and Xie Lian have long since learned to avoid this problem. Hua Cheng decides to actively use it to his advantage instead.
“FUCK!” He Xuan curses as he’s suddenly hit with what could pass as water funneled straight from the Arctic Ocean. Scrambling to escape this icy hell, his foot gets caught in the shower curtain and sends him tumbling to the floor right along with it. The shabby pole holding it up narrowly misses smacking him in the head only because He Xuan slips and faceplants right into the side of the sink.
A delighted cackle resounds from the other side of the apartment.
“HUA CHENG!”
It takes strenuous effort to stop himself from losing his balance again as he grips the same sink that’d caused a bruise the size of a grapefruit to appear on his forehead. When he finally is standing upright, He Xuan snatches his robe off the hook, puts it on with all the grace of a drunken man, and slams the door open so violently it rattles on its hinges.
He stomps into the living room where Hua Cheng is waiting with a phone angled toward him and a toothy grin just asking to be smacked off his face.
“Nice robe,” he says, walking towards He Xuan and reaching behind his head to pull up the hood. “Looks better like this though.”
What seemed to be a perfectly normal grey robe suddenly transforms into a shark, fin flopping on the top of He Xuan’s head and triangular teeth lining his face.
“I think Shi Qingxuan would enjoy seeing this.”
Shi Qingxuan would not be seeing this. Ever.
He Xuan grits his teeth, “Give me that phone if you value your life.”
“Bite me.”
Hua Cheng is wearing his boots with those infuriating bells on them again. They jingle and jangle like he’s fucking Santa Claus as He Xuan chases him around the apartment, his laughing sounding more like a hyena than the trademark ho ho ho one would expect.
He Xuan does not get to delete the video in the end, but it’s fine.
Tomorrow Hua Cheng will come home to him and Xie Lian sitting at the kitchen table, countless photos of prepubescent Hua Cheng strung out before them.
Revenge tastes sweet.
—
Six months. That’s how long He Xuan has to deal with a third roommate who doesn’t even pay a fraction of the rent. Half a year of being harassed in his own house, having to double check that the sugar hasn’t been switched out with salt before he brews his coffee and needing to wash three sets of dishes instead of two. That is, until—
“Move out, and I’ll cover the rent for your apartment.”
He Xuan had just entered Xie Lian’s room, hoping to borrow one of the many hand creams he got as freebies at the mall. He always urges He Xuan to use them because of how dry his skin gets in the winter. He Xuan had grown quite fond of the coconut scented one.
But Xie Lian isn’t there, of course. Because why would Xie Lian be in his own room?
Hua Cheng is sitting on the bed folding Xie Lian’s laundry, flattening out every crease and separating them based on color. His ugly face appears from behind a wool sweater. “I asked Gege to move in with me, but he said it wouldn't be fair to you since you both pay half the rent.”
“What’s the point of asking him to live with you when you’ve basically already kicked off your shoes and made yourself at home here?” He Xuan retorts.
“Well for one, I wouldn’t have to see your weird ocean themed socks getting mixed in with Gege’s things,” He taunts, holding up a pair embroidered with the penguins from Happy Feet.
“I got those on sale.”
“They’re from a children’s movie.”
“Happy Feet is cool as fuck.”
Hua Cheng chucks them at his face. “Is that a no? I’m prepared to use blackmail if necessary.”
“What blackmail?”
“You don’t need to know that much yet.”
He Xuan studies him for a moment, feeling out for any possible trickery. When he finds nothing, he nods his head.
A Hua Cheng-less apartment of his own choosing? With no rent to pay?
“Deal.”
Maybe he’ll finally get some peace and quiet for once.