Work Text:
December 16, 2020, Beijing
“So… you feel ready, Ge?”
Xiao Zhan turns over and buries his face in his pillow.
“Mmmph.”
Yibo leans over and rests his cheek on Xiao Zhan’s arm, but when he doesn’t say anything more, Yibo reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Hey.” He frowns at how the muscles under his fingers are tight and unyielding.
“Well, this won’t do,” Yibo sighs, and pulls himself up, settling himself over Xiao Zhan’s hips and kneading into his tense shoulders. “Try to relax, Ge. It’ll be great, I promise.”
Xiao Zhan groans, his voice muffled. “It won’t be anything like last year.”
“I know, and that’s okay. I’m just excited for you to be back on a stage. For us to be back on a stage -- together.”
Yibo pauses to admire the definition and bulk of the muscles he’s got his hands on, letting his eyes trail over the swell of Xiao Zhan’s bare shoulders, down to the sculpted arms that his man had been busy flexing on social media in recent months.
Xiao Zhan had just wrapped the military drama that had called for this more powerful physique, and the flutter in Yibo’s chest betrays his hope that the next role would let him keep it -- or at least not require him to starve himself again.
Not that he wouldn’t desire Xiao Zhan no matter what shape he’s in -- but healthy is always better.
And… you know.
Yibo coughs, then bends forward to dig his elbows into the meat between Xiao Zhan’s shoulder blades. He can feel the knots shift and loosen under the pressure, and the sound of a satisfied exhale tells him he’s hit the right spot.
“I’m just--” Xiao Zhan starts, his voice straining under Yibo’s weight, “--a little worried about all the hype, you know? Tencent… they posted a half dozen teasers across their accounts at 10:05 yesterday. I mean -- ahh, right there -- can they be more obvious about who they were referring to? I don’t like being singled out.”
“People are excited to see you, Ge.”
Xiao Zhan grunts as Yibo leans into another clump of knots in his shoulders. “Excitement is fine, but… I’m worried about -- oof -- about fans or antis disrupting the event or disrespecting other artists, you know?”
“Yeah,” Yibo sighs. He’d had to warn his own fans recently not to downvote other artists on Douban in their zeal to support Yibo’s works. All either of them wants to do is to create, to do the things that give them the satisfaction of accomplishment. But with the relentless focus on polls and rankings and social media clout, everything inevitably turns into a competition -- and not the kind that Yibo enjoys.
Xiao Zhan, in particular, hates it. Especially because his place at the top of so many charts -- even after months of a relentless hate campaign -- has only made him a more tempting target for attacks. He’s tried urging fans to be more reasonable, but it hasn’t helped.
It’s why he’s stayed away from events like the Double 11 Shopping Festival. And why he had been waffling on whether to go to the Tencent Starlight Awards.
Turns out, though, that making himself scarce only makes fans hungrier, more crazed -- so much so that his charity livestreams are besieged by millions of viewers, and the little promotional spots he does for CCTV propel him onto Hot Search every time. Even the products he endorses (or merely wears) are selling out in minutes.
So he knows he needs to normalize his public appearances. Somehow.
And honestly? Missing Tencent would hurt. That had been a special night for them last year, coming at the end of the A-Ling promotion period, that third summer together (well, their second, for all the public knew). Throughout their joint appearances that summer, they’d gotten bolder and bolder, dropping ever louder hints about who they were to each other.
As 2019 was drawing to a close, they knew that their companies were about to separate them, so Tencent was probably going to be their last chance to be together in public the way they wanted.
They couldn’t have known then how true that would turn out to be.
Yibo can’t wait to be on stage with Xiao Zhan again. It's been a long, long year. Once Xiao Zhan had finally committed to attend, Yibo went on a tear, posting mysterious Douyin videos to hint at something big happening, including one on December 12, when he tapped eight times… eight more days until Tencent Starlight.
Xiao Zhan posted his own clips too, delighting CP fans who weren’t used to him being the one to post within 24 hours of Yibo (instead of the other way around).
After several days of almost-daily posts from the two, fan excitement is at a fever pitch, and now Xiao Zhan is worried that maybe, just maybe they’ve stoked the flame too high.
Xiao Zhan shifts under Yibo, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders. “Will I get a chance to rehearse?” The rising fan hysteria makes rehearsal time even more necessary, but also makes it harder to arrange.
“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I reserved the last two rehearsal slots awhile ago, before you committed. Just in case,” he grinned. “So your rehearsal time will follow mine on the 20th. Tencent knows to leave your name off the schedule. Hopefully rehearsing last, when people are fixating on getting ready for the event, should help you avoid too much trouble.”
Yibo pats Xiao Zhan on the back, massage done, then stretches himself out next to him on the bed.
Xiao Zhan turns to face him, pulling him in close. “What would I do without you, Lao Wang?”
“Be bored. And celibate, I hope.” He grins, planting a kiss on Xiao Zhan’s lips. “But seriously -- don’t worry. Believe in yourself. You just did this.”
That’s both true and not true, Xiao Zhan thinks.
Eleven Days Earlier (December 5, Ningbo)
Yibo had drummed it into Xiao Zhan’s head that he should stay off social media, but Xiao Zhan was honestly dying to know how fans were reacting to the latest installment of the back-and-forth posting the two of them have been doing on Douyin the past few days.
The last time they had done something like this was back in September, when the trailers for Oath of Love and Being a Hero dropped on the same day, and their CP fans had been ecstatic, watching them almost interact through their social media posts about their dramas (Xiao Zhan had posted 13 minutes after Yibo, which he thought was a nice touch).
It was one thing to hear about the fan reaction secondhand from his staff or Yibo, but it was a lot more fun to experience it directly from one of their biggest fans -- Shijie.
Like a couple of days back, when Yibo had posted his first cryptic Douyin -- Xiao Zhan couldn’t help laughing at Xuan Lu’s squealing in the A-Ling WeChat as she tried to make sense of it.
A-Xian! 啊啊啊啊啊!! What does it mean? I don’t get it!
And then the next day, when Shijie giggled over the video Xiao Zhan’s studio posted on Weibo, of him trying to guess movie titles from emoji puzzles.
XianXian is so cute and smart! Oh, and your sweatshirt looks comfy -- did Yibo give that to you??
On the third day, Yibo posted another of his weird-ass Douyin videos, of him maybe making fun of one of Xiao Zhan’s go-to dance moves (Not all of us can freestyle like you, Lao Wang, Xiao Zhan had complained), or perhaps cuing some new couple-dance Douyin challenge that Shijie has shared on WeChat.
Xiao Zhan had to restrain himself from spoiling the surprise for Shijie, but then a riot of notifications in the afternoon told him she'd figured it out.
Shijie: A-Xian! You’re performing tonight????
Shijie: Singing?? Live???
Shijie: Is this what Yibo’s video was hinting at???
XZ: Yes! I’ll be at the end of the episode
XZ: But please watch the short films too
XZ: They’ve all worked so hard!
It was going to be an unusual appearance for him -- a live performance to mark the end of the final episode of Tencent’s variety show, “Actors Please Stand By 2,” which had followed young actors as they took on different acting challenges.
But it was also a dry run to see whether Tencent would be ready for a Xiao Zhan performance before a live audience. Granted, Tencent had always been good to them, but Xiao Zhan was still unsure about how willing and able it would be to do what it took to get him on stage.
Xiao Zhan grimaced, thinking about the companies that had decided over the past several months that he wasn’t worth the risk of getting boycotted or whatever nonsense the antis would unleash.
Yibo would remind him, though, that he'd been the one to turn down invitations, not wanting to inflict chaos on anyone else.
His last performance, when he sang “The Brightest Star in the Night Sky,” was broadcast on CCTV, a government-run channel, and recorded in an empty hall to avoid leaks. In fact, almost all of Xiao Zhan’s projects since 227 had been for CCTV or for other government initiatives, including a small role in a drama about the COVID-19 pandemic response.
It was by design. Not surprisingly, antis seemed less enthusiastic about attacking him when the project was government-sponsored.
The variety show performance for Tencent would be the first time since before 227 that Xiao Zhan would sing in front of a live audience. And without the protection that a government project would offer. It was both exciting and terrifying.
Yibo, for one, couldn’t contain his enthusiasm, and so he had goaded Xiao Zhan into joining him in video-tag-teaming in the days leading up to the performance. It was fun, Xiao Zhan had to admit -- it reminded him of the days when they could still interact freely on social media, do normal things like wish each other a happy birthday.
The potential for really causing a fan meltdown came when Xiao Zhan improbably found a freaking rainbow belt with a Y and a heart on it, and told Yibo he intended to wear the thing on live TV. The letter Y! And a black jacket adorned with rainbow colored stars!
I love this man, Yibo thought. He’d hated how the whole crisis had made him so tentative in public -- and so these flashes of sauciness, the near-recklessness, thrilled him.
In response, Yibo cheekily removed the Y from the YIBO keychain that Xiao Zhan had gifted him over two years ago. It had hung from Yibo’s Nike shoulder bag ever since, so predictably, fans noticed and speculated about where it had gone.
Just wait till the fans find the missing Y just above your--
Wang Yibo!
I’m gonna be there, Ge. To watch you sing.
You don’t have to do that! I can meet you afterwards, like we planned.
Ah, it’s not every day I can watch my Zhan-ge sing live. On a stage, anyway! I’ll be there.
Xiao Zhan was anxious as he took the stage, but once the music started, everything just clicked into place. He remembered that he loves to sing, to perform. When the camera panned around him, he flirted with it, like a proper idol. It all felt effortless, stepping back into the spotlight.
If this world is complicated, fake, loud
I'll use my all to run towards you
Even if it’s very far, I will reach you
If you say something stupid, words when you're drunk, or lies
I'll use my all to run towards you
Even if it’s very far, I will reach you
You have me
Have me
Xiao Zhan had been running all his life, in one way or another. He was always looking for that next challenge, the next destination. It was only in the last few years that he realized that what he wanted was a someone -- someone to share that journey with. A specific someone that, these days, was too far away, both figuratively and literally.
So Xiao Zhan has been running to close that distance.
[Kadian: 22:28, 爱爱爱博 (ai ai ai Bo, or love love love Bo)]
Yibo had been careful not to make him feel like he had to catch up in order to keep him, that beautiful boy. I’ve never needed you to be famous, he had told him over and over. But Xiao Zhan wasn’t ready to give up the chance to stand by Yibo’s side again, on stage or wherever he was.
On this night, though, Yibo had run to him, just as he had promised he would.
In the van on the way to their undisclosed location for the night, Xiao Zhan let the buzzy energy out, melting into Yibo’s side in the backseat.
“That felt… good.”
“I’m glad -- you were great, Ge. And handsome, oh my god so handsome. You’re ready.”
Xiao Zhan looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. It was a good night, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.
“And Tencent… they’re ready for you too. 17 million watched the livestream, Ge!”
“That’s… that’s alright, yeah?”
Yibo shoved him. “The show normally tops out at maybe 600,000 an episode, so… yeah, dummy. That’s better than alright. So many people, the sound crapped out for the livestream during your post-performance interview, but that won’t happen for Tencent. The awards, I mean.”
Xiao Zhan exhaled, eyes wide. “So... I’m going, then.” It was a statement, no longer a question. But Xiao Zhan knew that there was a big difference between singing to a small studio audience on a variety show, and singing live at Tencent Starlight. He hadn’t had a major performance like that since New Year’s Eve.
He looked at Yibo. I’m running to you with all that I have.
“It’s time.” Yibo looked serious for a moment, then his face split open into a wide grin. “And get ready -- I have so many Douyin to post in the next couple of weeks!”
Xiao Zhan laughed and shook his head. This boy.
“But tonight,” Yibo said, licking his lips, his voice low and just for Xiao Zhan, “I’m gonna take that Y back.”
December 20, 2020, Nanjing
“Relax, Lao Wang.”
“Mn,” Yibo says. “I am relaxed.”
“The hell you are,” Xiao Zhan laughs. “I watched you race across the red carpet. You did not look relaxed. ”
Yibo smirks in answer, but he knows Xiao Zhan sees through him. Of course he's stressed out. It's Xiao Zhan’s first appearance at a major event since he was forced into hiding, and if it doesn't go smoothly… well, Yibo doesn't want to think about that.
They're holed up in Xiao Zhan’s dressing room. Xiao Zhan doesn't like to be that celebrity with the ludicrous asks, but he knew he was going to be spending most of his time hiding backstage, which is why he has a too-large couch wedged into his suite, and a monitor with a feed from the stage.
The couch is serviceable, so Yibo half-lies on it so he can rest his head in Xiao Zhan’s lap. Xiao Zhan wants so badly to run his fingers through Yibo’s hair, but knows that just because Yibo looks like he’s got bed head, it's a very carefully arranged bed head. Still, he wonders whether Sunny chose to style Yibo this way because he knew they’d spend the whole event backstage together.
Their teams have learned from years of experience.
This is nice, Yibo thinks, closing his eyes. A lot more comfortable than being out on the VIP couches, freezing my ass off and having to look polite while people shove cameras in my face.
But he’s still pissed. He knows the real reason why they can't be out there. The interest in Xiao Zhan is at insane levels. It wouldn't take much to turn the excitement over seeing him in public into an uncontrollable feeding frenzy. It’s the last thing Xiao Zhan needs.
“I don't want to sit out on the floor,” Xiao Zhan had told Yibo, weeks ago, before he'd even decided he would attend. “Can you imagine? They'd cut away from the stage just once to show us sitting on that couch together, and I'd get blamed for taking attention away from other stars. I don't want to be a distraction. I don't want to add fuel to the fire.”
Well, that's the reason Xiao Zhan can't be out there. Yibo is supposed to be out on the VIP couch, sitting with his co-star in Legend of Fei, which dropped just days ago, so maybe he should be out there promoting it, but fuck that. His place is with Xiao Zhan, wherever he is.
And so they're sitting on a different couch together, away from the cameras.
Throughout the day, they come back to this couch repeatedly to reconnect -- to ground each other with a touch or a kiss, to reassure one another with soft words. Watch a movie, play video games.
But there's work to do too. Yibo rehearsed for his performance that morning, then stuck around the stage afterwards, alternating between watching intently and fidgeting nervously in the shadows as Xiao Zhan rehearsed his songs alone on stage (even his duet).
Then they did their photoshoots in their red carpet outfits in the afternoon, subtly matching up their backgrounds and poses.
[Xiao Zhan Kadian: 18:11 (Yibo, and the 11 symbolizes two individuals who have found each other); Yibo Kadian: 19:17 依旧一起 （yijiu yiqi, still together)]
Mostly, though, it's just them in the dressing room, just enjoying being together. There's never enough time for this.
There’s a soft knock at the door, a rhythm that lets them know it’s one of their staff, so Yibo settles more firmly into Xiao Zhan’s lap, claiming his space. It’s time for Yibo’s first outfit change and photoshoot, but he bargains for another 15 minutes so he can see Xiao Zhan through his first performances.
He knows he’s nervous. They both are.
It seems like all of China is watching the stage now, so Yibo is able to sneak out to the floor. It's no substitute for listening to Xiao Zhan sing at home, but still -- he won’t miss this.
The opening duet is lovely, and Yibo swallows down the vinegar taste in his mouth when he sees the sweet smile on Xiao Zhan’s face as his voice blends with Yang Zi’s. It’s work it’s work it’s work, he reminds himself, but he can’t help thinking of the times when those smiles were his alone as they sang Wuji together.
Then the stage lighting changes for Xiao Zhan’s solo, and Yibo finds himself holding his breath. The arena fills up with red 战 lights, and oh -- it’s overwhelming. Yibo feels hot tears pricking his eyes when he hears a tiny wobble in Xiao Zhan’s voice that wasn’t there in rehearsal, as if he’s singing through a lump in his throat.
Hold on, Zhan-ge.
The cheering is loud between the verses, and Xiao Zhan’s soft smile shows how moved he is by it all. It’s not until the song has ended and Xiao Zhan leaves the stage that Yibo can relax and breathe again. (He’ll badger Xiao Zhan to massage the tenseness from his shoulders when he gets back to his dressing room later).
When it’s time for Yibo’s solo performance, Xiao Zhan has to leave for his second photoshoot -- so Yibo’s pouting. As always, he wants his Zhan-ge’s eyes on him.
“What do I do if I’m nervous?” he asks.
Xiao Zhan snorts, knowing Yibo just wants to be coaxed. “Handle it yourself.”
“So rude!” Yibo cries in mock outrage. “I want to stash you in my pocket.”
“Ah?” Xiao Zhan shoots him an amused look. “So I can tap out the beat for you in your pocket?”
“Mn, tap out the beat for me.”
Xiao Zhan looks at Yibo fondly, and smacks him on the shoulder, igniting another one of their typical shoving matches.
“Here,” he smiles, taking his Tiffany ring off his index finger and handing it to Yibo. “Stash it away. It’ll tap out the rhythm for you,” he says as he heads for the door.
“Miss you,” Yibo calls.
“Miss whoever you want to miss,” Xiao Zhan replies with a smirk, and leaves.
On stage, Yibo keeps his hand in his pocket for most of the performance, touching Xiao Zhan’s ring where it sits in his pocket to remind him as he sings what it feels like to yearn for a loved one.
Maybe it’s a little silly, given that he’d just seen the object of his yearning not a half hour ago, but that’s how it is for Yibo -- there’s never enough of Xiao Zhan for him.
And Xiao Zhan indulges him. Elsewhere in the venue, he sets his watch to 8:05 and 10:05 to cue their birthdays in his photoshoot. He smiles, thinking about how Yibo will see the photos later and know that he was thinking of him. Always on my mind.
There’s just this day, and then they’ll be apart again, probably for weeks. So they have to make the most of it.
Xiao Zhan teases Yibo for being in such a rush to rejoin him backstage that he nearly drops his “Best All-Around Artist“ award and then gives a laughably terse acceptance speech. Yibo shrugs. It’s him.
I am how I am.
Yibo changes his outfit one last time for the VIP award ceremony, and Xiao Zhan giggles when he sees what Yibo has chosen to wear, how their styling is so similar.
“I'll give it back to you after we get off the stage,” Yibo says, patting his pocket. “Do you want me to give you mine?” He goes to take off his Coco Crush ring, but Xiao Zhan stops him.
“People will see it, da ge.”
Yibo smirks. “So what?”
Xiao Zhan smacks him. “No need for that.”
When they’re finally, finally on stage together, they’re not standing side by side like last time, but still, it’s deafening, and the arena is lit up with countless banners. As much as they’ve been waiting for this, the fans have been too.
Yibo knows that tens of millions of eyes are on them, and it’s not all fans. It’s making him anxious. He can’t stop his eyes from wandering over to Xiao Zhan, to see how he’s doing, and when it’s Xiao Zhan’s turn to speak, Yibo goes stock still through his whole speech.
And then it’s over, and Yibo has to go.
“When they finish packing up, I’m leaving,” he says reluctantly.
“I know,” Xiao Zhan says, and then displays his ringless fingers. “Give it back to me.”
Yibo pouts at Xiao Zhan. “Why don’t I take you with me?”
Aiyaa, this boy. “Okay then,” he says with a wave of his hand, “take me with you.”
But then Yibo imagines Xiao Zhan going weeks without a ring on his hand to remember him by, to show -- even just to himself -- that he belongs to someone, and so Yibo reconsiders, rolling the ring between his fingers.
Xiao Zhan is gathering his stuff now. “Do you know what to do when you get in the car?”
Yibo really doesn’t like these goodbyes. “Didn’t you say you’d go with me?”
Xiao Zhan gestures to the tablet on the couch. “Start a video call, and I’ll watch you sleep.”
Yibo nods, then holds out Xiao Zhan’s ring. “Give me your hand.”
He takes Xiao Zhan’s hand and slips the ring back on -- not on his index finger this time, but the proper one.
Xiao Zhan looks down at their hands, fingers now laced together, and kisses Yibo softly. They rest their foreheads together.
“Did you see?” Xiao Zhan asks. “There were some old friends out there.” Those LED banners… it's been a long time since I've seen them.
“There were some new ones.” It seems crazy, when they haven't been seen together in almost a year. But in that time, their CP has grown by over a million more fans. A million.
“Think today went alright?” Xiao Zhan asks. “I think my nerves came through during my solo. I - I think I could have done better, but it was just so much-- ”
“Don't worry so much about it, Ge. You were amazing as always. It'll get easier. And it’s not a race, it's a marathon, you know.
Xiao Zhan sighs. “Did you know that the first marathoner was just a messenger? He ran all that way, delivered his message, and then dropped dead.”
Yibo widens his eyes and files this factoid away for some future Himalaya episode. “Well, then maybe don't run with all that you have!”
“But I don’t want to have to wait another year before we can share a stage again.”
“I have a feeling we won’t have to,” Yibo says with a wink. “But... I don’t mind waiting for the right time.”
Xiao Zhan nods, wrapping his arms around Yibo and resting his head on shoulder. It feels solid and warm.
“Lai ri fang chang,” he murmurs into Yibo’s neck.
They’ll keep running, at their own pace.
The road is long.
