Archive of Our Own

As Xiao Zhan watches Wang Yibo take a long drink of Xiao Zhan's own green tea, he can't believe he was ever worried about them not getting along. Just a few short weeks ago, he'd been stressed out about being able to convey the connection their characters needed to express, but now they're so comfortable around each other it's as if they've known each other their whole lives.

Yibo's throat bobs as he drinks, and Xiao Zhan has to drag his gaze away, thumbing open his phone just to have something else to look at.

"Zhan-ge," Yibo whines, prodding Xiao Zhan's arm with the drink bottle. "It's empty."

"That happens when you drink all of it," Xian Zhan responds, pointedly not looking up from his phone.

"Is there any more?"

Xiao Zhan looks up to see his assistant already taking the bottle back to refill it, barely sparing Yibo a glance. An impressive feat, he thinks — they've been working together for weeks and he still has trouble looking away from him.

"You should pay part of her wages, as much as she looks after you, too," Xiao Zhan points out. "I'm pretty sure you drink more of my tea than I do."

"She's the one who called you my work wife," Yibo says, raising his shoulder in a shrug. "That means what's yours is mine, right?"

Xiao Zhan scoffs, ignoring the thrill that goes down his spine at that. "What do I get out of this deal, then?"

"My sparkling personality," Yibo answers without a moment's hesitation with a toothy grin.

"I'd like a refund," Xiao Zhan replies, deadpan. Wang Yibo scowls and reaches out to smack Xiao Zhan in the arm with Bichen.

Xiao Zhan moves to pull back instinctively, which means Bichen ends up glancing off his elbow, at just the right angle to send a shock of pain ringing up his arm.

"Wang Yibo!" Xiao Zhan snaps, cupping his stinging elbow with his hand. He hisses out through his teeth as he bends his arm a few times. "Aiyah, that hurt!"

"I'm sorry," Yibo says. Something about his voice seems odd — not to mention the fact that he's apologizing so easily rather than doubling down on the teasing. When Xiao Zhan looks up, Wang Yibo looks pale and shaken.

"It's fine," Xiao Zhan says, a little confused by the sudden change in tone. It's not like it's a regular thing, but this is certainly not the first time he's snapped at Yibo after a tease gone too far, and every other time it's rolled right off of him. He's not sure what made this so different. "Just be more careful, yeah?"

"I will," Wang Yibo promises, and that's all they have time for before hair and makeup descend upon them again.

When Xiao Zhan is six years old, he goes through what his parents call "a phase". Where he had previously been a happy, agreeable child, he suddenly experiences fits of rage or confusion, often bursting into tears at the most unexpected times. His parents give each other a knowing look over his head when it happens, and then his mother draws him into her lap, making sympathetic noises as she pets his hair.

The phase soon passes, but by the time Xiao Zhan is 10, he's starting to notice some odd things. He'll occasionally feel a dull pain in his palms, or on his knees, or on one memorable occasion, a sharp pain on his chin. He winces, rubbing his chin as his eyes water at the already-fading sensation.

"Why does this keep happening?" he asks his mother as he glares down at his homework. "Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, Zhanzhan," his mother replies quickly. She steps out of the kitchen and slides into the chair next to him. She sighs, running her fingers through his hair. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but this is a good thing."

Xiao Zhan looks at her in confusion. "How is hurting good?"

She laughs a little, sitting back in her chair to meet his eyes. "You know how sometimes I know how your dad is going to be in a bad mood before he gets home from work? Or how he'll know when I'm coming home with one of my headaches even if I don't call to let him know?" Xiao Zhan nods. "That's because we are incredibly lucky — your father and I are soulmates."

Xiao Zhan frowns, looking down at his hands in his lap. "I've heard some kids at school talk about soulmates before. Some of them said it's all fake."

"Some people do believe that," his mother says, nodding. "And it's understandable — it's hard to prove, and not everyone has a soulmate. But for those of us that do, we know it's real. We can feel it." She pauses, ducking her head a little to catch Xiao Zhan's eye. "You feel it too, don't you? It's not just the pain — sometimes you might feel happy or sad or angry for no reason, almost like it's an echo of something."

Xiao Zhan hesitates. "Sometimes I want to cry when I'm not sad," he admitted. "Or laugh when nothing funny happened. I thought I was just weird."

"Oh, sweetheart, no," his mother replies, reaching out for him. He goes to her easily, climbing into her lap despite the way his limbs have gone all long and gangly in the past year. "I know it's confusing, but those emotions, those little twinges of pain you get — they're something a real person out there is feeling. Your soulmate. They're feeling you, too. When you find them, it will all be worth it, I promise."

"When I find them," Xiao Zhan asks after a long moment, "do I have to marry them?"

His mother laughs, a full, rich sound that rises from her belly and shakes them both. "No," she finally replies. "You don't have to marry them. Not all soulmates are romantic soulmates. Some are something called platonic — like friends," she explains. "My grandmother's soulmate was her sister. They were inseparable their whole lives."

Xiao Zhan chews on his lower lip as he ponders that. "That doesn't sound so bad," he finally decides. "I can make a new friend."

Wang Yibo seems a little off for the rest of the day, but they manage to get through their scenes and by the next morning he's back to normal. They settle back into their usual routine — bickering and teasing, smacking each other with their sleeves, collapsing into a tired heap at the end of the day (or night, as the case may be) to run the next day's lines.

Xiao Zhan lets Wang Yibo steal his tea. Wang Yibo makes sure Xiao Zhan remembers to eat. They work together well, both as coworkers and, Xiao Zhan realizes a month into shooting, as friends.

He doesn't make that final connection until there's a five-day span where they don't see each other. The first two days their shooting schedules just don't align, and then Wang Yibo flies out to Changsha to film a couple episodes of Day Day Up. His schedule is crammed full the whole time he's gone, so he barely even has time to text, and Xiao Zhan realizes somewhere in day three that he misses him. There's been an echo of sadness from his as-yet-unknown soulmate the last couple days, too, so it's easy to get the feelings confused, but he's been dealing with the dual-emotions long enough to admit that the feeling of missing someone is all — or at least mostly — him.

The day before Yibo is meant to return, Xiao Zhan manages to get enough of a signal to send him a message during a break in filming.

>>When do you get in tomorrow? Your call sheet says 7am, but that can't be right.

He doesn't see the reply until he's on the way back to the hotel that night, yellow-orange squares of streetlights zipping past the window where he sits in the back of the transport van.

>I get in at 3am, so should be back to the hotel by 4. I'll be good to go by 7.

The text is accompanied by a selfie. Getting pictures from Yibo isn't unusual; he knows he looks good and has no qualms about fishing for compliments via text. This one is a little different, though; he's not made-up or styled, there's no studio lighting or impressive backdrop. He's just sitting in a dim room, head tipped back against a wall. He's giving a peace sign, but his slightly unfocused gaze and the dark smears under his eyes give away how exhausted he truly is.

No wig, no makeup, and likely operating on more caffeine than sleep, and he's still beautiful. The thought takes Xiao Zhan by surprise; of course he knows Yibo is attractive, he'd have to be blind not to see that, but this— this realization of genuine beauty, accompanied by a slow curl of heat low in his belly— this is new.

Xiao Zhan stares at the photo for longer than he intends to, only stopping when the van lurches to a stop in front of the hotel. When he gets up to his room, he makes a call to the director, making his case for shuffling a few things around the next morning. It doesn't accomplish as much as he'd like, but it's better than nothing.

>>I read it wrong; you're in at 9. Get some sleep.

He attaches a meme of a cat sleeping, then scrolls back up to Yibo's selfie. He chews on his lower lip for a long moment before saving it.

"I'm going to kill them," Xiao Zhan says calmly. "I may not know who they are yet, but I'm going to kill them."

Zheng Youmei reaches out to smack his arm. "Hush. Do you know what most of us would do to have a soulmate?"

"Well, no," Xiao Zhan grumbles. "But I do know your knees wouldn't be hurting constantly. What the heck are they even doing?"

Youmei's eyes light up with mischief and she opens her mouth to respond before Xiao Zhan points a finger at her. "Don't, Meimei."

She pouts. "You're no fun. Anyway, if you put some effort into finding them, maybe you could tell them to stop hurting their knees. Or at least get some enjoyment out of it yourself," she adds as an afterthought, laughing at Xiao Zhan's expression in response to that.

"It's not like I can afford the searching services," he points out. "And I don't have the time to look for myself. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"I've offered to help you," Zheng Youmei says, pouting a little. "Just tell me what you know, and I'll start digging. They could be posting online right now, looking for you!"

Xiao Zhan waved a hand. "I'm not worried about it right now. I need to focus on graduating, first. I'm too busy worrying about Thursday's exam to focus on my soulmate."

In reality, he's far too nervous about the possibility of meeting his soulmate to do any active looking for them. Whoever his soulmate is, they must be very active, as they seem to constantly be hurting themselves. What if they're some super-cool athlete, and they're disappointed to be paired with a boring art student? He's nothing special, and he doesn't want to feel the echo of his soulmate's disappointment when they meet.

Xiao Zhan stretches when he is finally released from the makeup chair, groaning as the phantom ache of sore muscles settles over his bones.

Wang Yibo twists to grin up at him from where he's bent over, stretching to wrap his hands around his ankles. Xiao Zhan is trying really hard not to look anywhere other than his face.

"I've been in dance rehearsals the last two days so I know why I'm sore," Yibo says, straightening with a mild grimace. "What's your excuse?"

"I guess I'm just old," Xiao Zhan says, sighing dramatically. "You should respect your elders."

Yibo scoffs and swats at him. "Really, though, what did you do?" It's his first day back after a few days away filming a dance show, and he's been particularly clingy, never more than a few feet away. Xiao Zhan can't find it in himself to mind.

"Nothing," Xiao Zhan says with a shrug. "I even got in bed at a reasonable hour last night. Maybe I just slept in a weird position."

He knows what it is — it's not a true ache in his own muscles, but the residual pain of his soulmate's — but he doesn't want to tell Wang Yibo that. People have a tendency to react oddly when they find out he has a soulmate; they become overly invested in finding out who it is, or they often withdraw completely if it's someone he'd been feeling out romantically. Sure, platonic soulmates are a thing, but no one wants to take the chance of losing their partner if and when they find their soulmate.

He shouldn't have any problem telling Yibo. Despite his occasionally wandering thoughts, he knows he can't actually pursue him romantically. Their jobs are too hectic, the industry is too crazy, and chances are Wang Yibo isn't interested anyway. He flirts, sure, but that's just… just for the role, probably. Just character bleed.

He shouldn't have any problem telling Yibo. Even if he's not public about having a soulmate, most of his friends know. But the thought of Yibo withdrawing, of the playful flirting and teasing stopping, makes something in his stomach flop over uncomfortably, so he keeps it to himself.

Today's scene involves the two of them in a boat with Yu Bin, Xiao Zhan draped artfully across Yibo's lap in a way that, according to the director, looks natural to the camera, even if it feels like he's turned at a weird angle.

Yibo squirms a little, as if he, too, is uncomfortable. Xiao Zhan hopes it's not the proximity; he doesn't think it is. Yibo is constantly leaning into Xiao Zhan's space when they're not on camera, and they've even shared a bed a few times when one of them was too tired to make the trek back to their own hotel room. How is this any different?

"Can we get a foam pad?" Yibo asks one of the assistants. Xiao Zhan assumes it's for Yibo's seat and shifts out of the way, only to have Yibo put the pad over his own knee. "It was digging into your back, right?" he asks.

"A little, yeah," Xiao Zhan says. He hadn't wanted to make any trouble about it, but he knew he'd have a bruise there in the morning.

Yibo rolls his eyes. "That was more than a little. You should complain more."

Xiao Zhan doesn't get a chance to respond before the director is calling for places and the cameras are rolling. He goes back to pretending to sleep in Yibo's lap, and — just for a little while — lets himself pretend it's real.

Xiao Zhan wakes suddenly, sweating as if with exertion as he sucks in great lungfuls of breath. His legs ache with a phantom pain; he isn't sure whether that's the remnants of the dream or the result of whatever his soulmate is up to now.

Granted, he can't exactly claim ignorance on that front anymore, not now that the dreams have started.

He's always had dreams that didn't feel like they were fully his, but they were always about normal kid stuff — random movies and video games, school, the occasional nightmare. One memorable time he'd dreamed he was being chased by giant bugs. In the last year or so, though, they've gotten a little more specific, as if he's dreaming about what his soulmate has been focused on during the day.

It makes him wonder if his soulmate is out there somewhere dreaming about cranky clients with absurd design requests.

He can't know that for sure, but what he does know is that he dreams about music, constantly. Sometimes it's vague, a low thump of a beat and the suggestion of shapes moving around him. Other times he can hear a specific song, but he can't understand the words — he's pretty sure it's K-pop, though he has yet to recognize any of the songs in the dreams. It's a little encouraging, though, to think that maybe he and his soulmate share an interest.

Most often, though, the dream is filled with dancing. His limbs move of their own volition in time to the beat. Sometimes the movements are sharp and defined; other times sinuous and slinky in a way that makes him flush when he wakes.

It's starting to bleed over into his waking life; he's caught himself moving to a beat more than once — thankfully only in the privacy of his own home, but still. He's always enjoyed singing, but has never been very comfortable dancing. He's not sure how he feels about the idea that his soulmate could be changing him, despite the fact that they've never met.

Somehow the end of filming sneaks up on them; one day a long march of scheduled shoots looms ahead of them, and the next they're at the wrap party, with flowers and cake and champagne flowing freely.

Xiao Zhan picks at his food and sips at his one drink, watching everyone mill around the room with a sort of odd disconnect. It seems impossible that they're expected to leave the little bubble they've built around them and go back to normal life. Sure, they've all occasionally had to leave set for other obligations, but it's always been with the knowledge they'd be returning. Now it's all done.

He watches Yibo throw his head back, laughing at something Wang Zhuocheng said, and tries to imagine not seeing him every day. The thought settles like lead in his stomach, souring the meal and the company alike.

Seconds later, before Xiao Zhan has even made the move to try to excuse himself, Yibo is sliding into the booth next to him.

"What's wrong?"

Xiao Zhan blinks in surprise. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

Wang Yibo scoffs, leaning into Xiao Zhan's space to pick a snack cake off his plate. "You think I can't tell?"

"I'm fine," Xiao Zhan says, pasting on a smile. He's gotten good at that in the past few years, but if Yibo's bland expression is anything to go by, he's not buying it. "Fine, I'm just tired, that's all. It's been a long week."

"Yeah," Yibo agrees, his eyes never leaving Xiao Zhan's face. "It has." He hesitates, as if he's considering saying something, then he shakes his head and stands up, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. "Alright, come on. Let's get out of here."

"What? No, you were having a perfe—"

"I fly out in the morning," Yibo interrupts him. His expression is suddenly oddly shy for one who is normally so bold— around Xiao Zhan, anyway. "It might be a while before we see each other again. Can I hang out with you tonight?"

See each other again

The words settle into Xiao Zhan's chest, filling in the spaces between his ribs and making him feel whole again, where he hadn't fully realized he'd been coming apart. Yibo still wants to see him after this. It seems so obvious, now that it's been said out loud — of course, they're friends, of course they'll stay in contact and hang out when they can — but he's spent the last few days so afraid they would end up like every other past coworker; a vague acquaintance politely acknowledged in passing.

"Yeah," he hears himself saying out loud. He knows how it will go, the way it always goes. They'll put some dumb movie on and fall asleep watching it, and Xiao Zhan will wake up at some point and turn it down but leave it on because Yibo likes the noise. Xiao Zhan doesn't like it as much, but it's a fair trade for having Yibo curled up on the other side of his bed, face relaxed and hand extended toward Xiao Zhan, as if even in sleep he can't help but reach for him. "Yeah, we can hang out tonight."

Yibo's smile is wide and gummy and real, and even as he knows he shouldn't, Xiao Zhan tucks it into his heart, right beside see each other again.

Xiao Zhan never expected to be grateful for his soulmate's sometimes painful proclivity for dance, and yet now he is, thanks to his spur of the moment application to a reality show.

He spends long hours in a studio, learning how to move to music in a way that doesn't come naturally to his body, but feels somehow familiar in his mind. The cameras are everywhere, invasive in a way he isn't sure he'll ever get used to (isn't sure he'll ever need to get used to, if he doesn't win a spot in the band), but sometimes when he's dancing, he can close his eyes and pretend he's in one of his dreams. It works surprisingly well.

As part of the promos for the show, he sits through a truly mind-numbing number of interviews, all of which invariably include a question about his relationship status. He always laughs it off, claiming to be too busy to maintain a relationship.

"How about a soulmate, then?" the interviewer asks, eyes bright with curiosity. "Do you believe in them? Do you have one?"

Xiao Zhan has done his best not to lie during these interviews; if he's going to be a public figure, he wants to be an honest one, a genuine one. But something about this question strikes some deep, primal fear in him, some gut instinct to protect this one aspect of himself.

"I don't have one," he says, smiling a little sadly. "I believe in them, of course — my parents were soulmates — but I'm not one of the lucky ones myself."

"Ah, well," the interviewer says, grinning, "I'm sure you just broke thousands of hearts, while giving thousands more hope," she teased. Xiao Zhan ducks his head and laughs, sending out a silent apology to his soulmate.

As promised, Wang Yibo flies out early the next morning, headed out to Changsha to reunite with his Day Day Up co-hosts. Xiao Zhan's manager gives him exactly two days off, then has him whisked away into a whirlwind of promotional photoshoots, a brief reunion with XNINE, and some studio recording sessions. He stays busy, but not nearly busy enough to not miss Yibo.

Granted, he doesn't miss him as much as he could, because they keep the easy back-and-forth of their texting like they haven't even parted ways. The only difference now is Yibo sends more selfies, since they don't see each other in person. Xiao Zhan's image folder now holds pictures of Yibo in airports, on stages, in cars, and on a couple notable occasions, in bed.

He tries not to think about what it means that he instantly saves every one as soon as he opens the message.

They keep missing being in the same city as each other by mere days and, once, frustratingly, just a few hours. Xiao Zhan has to remind himself that even if they were in the same city, they likely wouldn't have time to see each other. Wang Yibo is busy, and he certainly isn't feeling the same persistent sense of loss Xiao Zhan is.

>How'd your shoots go today? Mouth hurt from all that smiling?

Xiao Zhan laughs out loud; his mouth does, in fact, hurt. He'd been posing with various bowls of instant noodles for hours on end. He might never eat instant noodles again.

>>You really know how these things go, huh?
>>Wang-laoshi, please give this humble student your wisdom!

He can picture so vividly the way Yibo must scoff and roll his eyes at that; he wishes so badly he could see him in person he almost aches with it. As if in response, his phone vibrates again, this time with a picture. It's a selfie, Yibo's deadpan stare with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Xiao Zhan snorts and saves it immediately, far past the point of arguing with himself about it.

They chat for a few more minutes about some ridiculous trending topic on Weibo, then say goodnight. Xiao Zhan opens the picture again and stares at it for a long moment. He hates this. Hates the distance, hates how much he misses someone he shouldn't have feelings for.

In the morning he asks his manager to hire a soulmate-finding service on an anonymous basis. He feels vaguely ill as he fills out the forms she acquires for him a few days later, but he's not sure what else to do. Maybe finding someone he has a fate-mandated connection with will cure him of whatever these feelings are.

Yibo texts him as he's filling out the paperwork, asking how he's been, and his feelings of guilt only intensify. He doesn't answer until the next day.

As the potential soulmate matches start rolling in, Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo's text thread starts to dwindle. Yibo still texts at oddly opportune moments to say hello, often when Xiao Zhan is feeling especially tired or grumpy, but Xiao Zhan feels so oddly guilty about his soulmate search that he finds himself replying less often.

The soulmate matching service has him take part in a test — a sharp pinch to his leg at a certain date and time, to see if any of his potential matches feel anything. None do.

Yibo, however, messages within ten minutes of the test. Xiao Zhan genuinely considers crying in frustration.

"It hurts, mom." Xiao Zhan's voice is far too shaky for his seventeen years, but he's willing to admit this has him scared.

"I know, Zhanzhan," she says, leaning over the bed to brush his hair back from his face. "But they've run every test they have. You're fine — I know it hurts, but this pain isn't yours."

For years, Xiao Zhan's first instinct has been to think I don't want this. I never asked for it. Today, as his chest throbs with pain, his heat thudding far too fast for comfort, he thinks, maybe I can help.

For the next hour, his mother by his side, Xiao Zhan focuses on taking deep, even breaths. He tries his best to think happy, soothing thoughts, and desperately hopes that the sense of calm is being picked up on some level by his soulmate, wherever they are.

As the pain in his chest eases, he realizes that he was, for the first time, worried that he'd never meet his soulmate. He's always claimed he didn't care one way or the other, but today's episode has forced the truth to the fore: he does hope to meet his soulmate someday. He just hopes they want the same thing.

By the time rehearsals for the CQL fan events start, Xiao Zhan has still not found his soulmate. It stings a bit, to realize that maybe they aren't looking; maybe they're perfectly happy without him and not looking for a new connection to potentially upend their life.

Understandable, he thinks, as he watches Yibo nod along to the voice coach's advice, but disappointing nonetheless.

Being back in Wang Yibo's sphere has been equal parts exhilarating and stressful. He's happier than he has any right to be to be near him again, but things aren't quite how they used to be, and he's not sure how he feels about that.

No, that's a lie. He knows how he feels about it. He hates it. He wants them to tease and flirt like they used to, wants to pester a gummy smile out of Yibo, wants to surprise a hoarse, braying laugh out of him.

It's not like that, though, and he knows, logically, that it's for the best.

They're perfectly friendly, of course. They smile and learn their lines, the choreography. They rehearse their duet over and over again while Xiao Zhan tries his best to not fall back into Wei Wuxian. There's a distance that wasn't there before, though, and Xiao Zhan knows it's his fault. He's the one who stepped back from their messaging, and he's the one holding Wang Yibo at arm's length now.

He hates it, every second of it, but it's self preservation.

Yibo has noticed, of course. Sometimes he'll start teasing out of habit and Xiao Zhan will respond, then pull back at the last moment, putting that distance there again. The first few times, there was a flicker of hurt in Yibo's eyes. Now there's just resignation.

It doesn't help that Xiao Zhan's soulmate seems to be moody recently, too. He'll feel reflections of elation, disappointment, and frustration all within minutes of each other. Combined with his own mixed feelings, it's exhausting.

Two days before the first fan meeting in Tianjin, the stage director stops them mid-rehearsal, shaking her head.

"Didn't you two film together for months?" she asks, hand on her hip. "Didn't your characters like each other? Why can't we see some of that now? You look like strangers who happen to be singing the same song."

Xiao Zhan swallows hard as they both bow their heads and offer apologies. She waves a hand.

"The music is fine. Just figure yourselves out before final rehearsal tomorrow, yeah?"

Xiao Zhan is trying to quietly slip out backstage when Zhu Zanjin corners him, Liu Haikuan lingering nearby.

"Hey, we're all going out for dinner tonight — that way we all have a day to recover before the meeting," he says, grinning. "You're coming, right?" He almost seems to loom over Xiao Zhan expectantly, which is honestly impressive for a man of his height.

Xiao Zhan is fumbling for the words to excuse himself from the excursion when he hears Wang Yibo behind him.

"Actually, we already have plans."

Zhu Zanjin looks between the two of them, brows raised, smile slowly spreading.

"Oh really? Well, don't let us get in the way, then. We'll have plenty of fun without you," he announces, winking before stepping around Yibo to grab Haikuan's arm, marching him off toward their next unsuspecting victim — Song Jiyang, by the look of things.

"Thanks for the save," Xiao Zhan offers once they're out of earshot.

"It wasn't a save," Yibo scoffs. "We have plans. Come on, I've got a car waiting." He clamps a hand around Xiao Zhan's arm, steering him toward the exit.

The ride to the hotel is a quiet, awkward one. Xiao Zhan finds himself mentally reaching for his soulmate, something he's been trying to do more often, now that he's actively looking for them. He hopes they're doing something more pleasant than this, and hopes, a bit selfishly, to borrow whatever positive emotions they might be feeling. Right now, though, all he gets is some turmoil, overshadowed by a truly impressive amount of determination.

Whatever his soulmate is facing, he hopes it goes well for them.

All of Xiao Zhan's attempts to extract himself fail, and he finds himself guided into Wang Yibo's room, the door shut firmly behind them.

"Alright," Yibo says, turning on him. His chin has a defiant tilt to it, as if he's bracing for a hit. "What happened, and how can we fix it?"

Xiao Zhan sighs. "Nothing happened, Yibo. We just… we worked together, and then the job ended."

The pained look on Wang Yibo's face makes him want to reach out and snatch the words back out of the air.

"Worked together, wow," Yibo finally says, huffing out a humorless laugh. "I thought we were at least friends."

"We were— we are!" Xiao Zhan corrects, and oh, he wishes his soulmate could choose any other time to have their own crisis. He can barely deal with his own at the moment, and the emotions clash within him in a way that makes him vaguely nauseous. He takes a deep breath. "Yibo, we are friends. I've just been a bad one lately."

"Yeah, kinda," Yibo agrees, "but I'm not just talking about you taking days to reply to texts. You can barely look at me." He hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty passing over his face, breaking through the mask of stubbornness. It makes him look every bit as young as he actually is. "Is it something I did?"

"No!" Xiao Zhan answers, probably way too fast. He shakes his head; he can't keep his thoughts straight, between his own distress and that of his soulmate's. "No, I— Yibo, I've been looking for my soulmate."

Wang Yibo goes very, very still.

Xiao Zhan lets the statement hang in the air for a long moment, and when Yibo doesn't reply, he starts talking just to fill the silence, words falling out before he has time to think about what he's saying.

"I know I've always said in interviews that I don't have one, but it just seemed too personal to make public. I just wanted to keep it for myself. I didn't mean to keep it from you, though, it just— it never came up, and—"

"I knew you have a soulmate," Yibo says, interrupting the flow of words.

Xiao Zhan snaps his mouth shut, eyes wide. "You… did?" Yibo nods slowly. "How?"

Yibo's eyes fall shut and he doesn't answer for long enough that Xiao Zhan starts to wonder if he's going to answer at all. Then he lets out a long breath, holds his left arm out in front of him, and very deliberately reaches out with his right hand to give it a sharp pinch.

Xiao Zhan's whole world tilts sideways as he feels the echoing pinch in his own left arm.

"What," he croaks, taking a step back. He encounters the foot of the bed, which he sits down on with an ungraceful whump. "You— how long have you known?"

"Near the beginning of filming," Yibo replies quietly. He's staying by the door, giving Xiao Zhan his space. It's both welcome and weird. "When I hit you with Bichen."

Xiao Zhan thinks back, remembering the day Yibo had reacted so oddly when they'd been goofing around. Now that he thinks about it, he could swear he remembers picking up on some shock from his soulmate, but he'd been so distracted by the ringing pain in his elbow that he hadn't paid it much attention.

Now that he knows, everything slots into place. The dancing, the aching knees, even his bout of chest pain as a teenager. The more recent dreams filled with the speed and adrenaline of a racetrack.

"It's— wow. Wow. All those perfectly timed texts, those times you knew I was hurting before I said anything. Why didn't you tell me?" he hears himself ask the question before he's even fully decided to ask it. His head snaps up suddenly, eyes growing wide with dawning horror. "You didn't want it to be me."

"What?" Yibo's face goes slack with surprise and confusion. "What? No, I— Zhan-ge, you have it backwards. I was afraid you wouldn't want me."

"How could I not?" Xiao Zhan asks, laughing helplessly. "You're my soulmate." It feels so surreal to say it out loud.

"Exactly." Yibo's face is grim. "I wanted you to like me because you like me, not because…" He trails off, gesturing vaguely, "...the universe says you have to."

Xiao Zhan stares in disbelief for a long moment, then blurts, "Yibo, the reason I was looking for my soulmate was because I was trying to get over you. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

A silence falls over the room. It's heavy, loaded with all the things they haven't said.

"I don't want you to stop thinking about me," Yibo finally says. He takes a step forward as Xiao Zhan finally stands, and they look across at each other almost warily. "You should think about me all the time. Why do you think I sent you so many selfies?"

Xiao Zhan huffs out a laugh. "I saved all of them," he admits. He steps closer a bit hesitantly. Now that he's focused on it, now that he knows who they're coming from he can feel Wang Yibo's emotions with almost crystal clarity. There's a lot of happiness and hope, all run through with a thread of uncertainty, and… something that feels like an overwhelming amalgam of joy and pride and longing and a fierce protectiveness.

He takes another step forward and reaches out, letting his thumb run along the swell of Yibo's cheek. "This doesn't… feel platonic," he finally says. "Tell me this isn't platonic."

Yibo snorts, then reaches up to fist his hand in Xiao Zhan's shirt to drag him down for a kiss.

It's awkward for about three seconds, then they step in closer and tilt their heads, open their mouths a bit, and suddenly it's hot and slick and hungry. It is decidedly not platonic.

When they finally part, he realizes he has his hand cupped around the back of Yibo's neck, while Yibo's hand has found its way under Xiao Zhan's shirt, a large brand of warmth against his hip. Yibo's breath is warm on Xiao Zhan's face, and they're still close enough that Xiao Zhan almost has to pull back a bit to see the smirk that curls Yibo's lips when he feels the thrum of satisfaction coming from him.

He suspects he can feel Yibo's emotions stronger when they're touching. It's a theory he is willing to put to extensive testing.

"This isn't platonic," Yibo says, grinning up at him, mischief shining in his eyes. God, Xiao Zhan loves him so much.

"Yeah, I picked up on that," he replies.

"Well, I thought it was worth reiterating," Yibo says, a bit airily, "since you apparently didn't pick up on anything else last summer."

Xiao Zhan growls in reply, and feels the thrill that shoots down Wang Yibo's spine almost as strongly as if it were his own.

Helpless against the impulse, he pulls Yibo in for another kiss, smiling as their lips meet. He can't believe he gets to have this, can't believe they spent a whole year doubting what they felt. As Yibo tugs him toward the bed, eyes dark with intent and emotions singing with joy and love and want, Xiao Zhan gets the impression they're about to make up for some lost time.