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Xiao Zhan clicked off the stream and turned off the TV with a sigh. It was finally over.
And Yibo’s guy had won.
It hadn’t quite ended the way he knew Yibo would have preferred — the man had made no secret of his preference for BouBou and the high level of respect he held for the French dancer. But Xiao Zhan had warned Yibo of the politics probably in play behind the scenes. No matter his talent, it just wasn’t realistic to expect the producers to allow a foreign dancer to win a Chinese competition. Luckily, Yibo had taken him seriously and been prepared for the outcome. And having multiple members of his team finish at the top was still an impressive achievement for Yibo as a captain.
Xiao Zhan puttered around the living room, cleaning up the snack wrappers and clutter he’d left throughout the day. Yibo would be back tomorrow, probably reveling in his win and ready for a private celebration. Xiao Zhan had sent a congratulatory text straight away as he’d watched the last battle play out on screen, though it probably got lost in a flood of similar messages from their friends and family. With the crowds and craziness of the finals, it had been too risky for Xiao Zhan to sneak onto the set the way he’d done several times during the early filming months ago.
Watching Yibo be himself on camera, in a way he only ever let show on rare occasions on the set of Day Day Up, had brightened what otherwise may have been a depressing and stressful summer.
His boyfriend had been nothing short of a godsend in the spring when Xiao Zhan had been shouldering troubles with work, as well as the loss of a dear family member. Yibo had been stuck away in Hengdian for filming, but always made time for calls and brief visits, a solid rock of support that Xiao Zhan was beyond grateful for. He’d clung to Yibo like a safe port in the storm, in every way possible once travel resumed and Xiao Zhan could visit him again.
With his own schedule temporarily less hectic for the summer, Xiao Zhan had been gifted with more time to return the favor, eagerly taking on the role of supportive and doting boyfriend. He had spent more than a little time on the SDC set, watching some of the tapings from dark corners or hidden viewing stations. On days he couldn’t come in person, Yibo would have his team’s rehearsals recorded so that Xiao Zhan could see what the team was working on. All of this under the guise, of course, of being able to review it himself later.
Xiao Zhan had watched his boy unfurl like a flower over the last few months as he got comfortable with his team and the people surrounding him.
Yibo was always a practiced professional on camera, cool and confident, but with Street Dance China he’d let loose a lot more. The other leaders had made it easy for Yibo to feel comfortable in his own skin. It helped that Zhang Yixing was on the show, as well. He had long ago taken Yibo under his wing as a little brother, and Xiao Zhan knew they had a great working relationship. It was also clear how much they enjoyed each other’s company. It was easy to see why — both of them shared a tendency to be the quiet type, but they could also be completely silly and rowdy when they warmed up. Both men shared a confidence in their own talent, and had a good heart, and a drive to deliver the best possible work. Their similarities made it easy for their mutual respect to blossom and grow over the years they’d known each other.
And it was no surprise that Jackson and Wallace quickly fell under Yibo’s charismatic spell, too. When he let people in, Yibo was so full of love and loyalty, it was impossible for people to turn down his friendship.
And the team Yibo built around himself was no different. At first, Yibo complained that many of them seemed so enamored and in awe of him, it might be impossible to work together. But as the number of members dwindled down to their core, and they spent more time getting to know Yibo as more than just a perfectionist captain, they came to know a bit of the man underneath the cold, public exterior.
His team accepted him — they accepted Xiao Zhan — and they didn’t judge.
From the beginning, there was a different feeling to the project — an openness and freedom to being surrounded by artists who embraced who they were and easily accepted the quirks and differences of others.
“I’m going to catch so much hell if I don’t have a lot of girls on my team, but I just don’t want to deal with it, you know?” Yibo had told him.
Xiao Zhan knew — he’d been on the Produce 101 set only briefly, but the way the girls all threw themselves at Yibo and vied for his attention wasn’t at all surprising. He was so gorgeous, of course everyone wanted to take their shot if they thought they had one.
Not that they ever actually did.
Especially not now.
Yibo was his — heart and soul. And Xiao Zhan was far too smart to take it for granted and too selfish to ever let him go.
And because Yibo loved him, he didn’t even consider taking any of the dancers (male or female) for his team that blatantly hit on him during the audition process, no matter how good they were.
“Isn’t that a little unfair, Bo-ge?” Xiao Zhan had asked after the auditions were over. “To eliminate someone just because they flirt with you?”
“If I put them on my team, you were automatically going to hate them because they flirted with me. How would I be able to stay impartial?” Yibo asked. “It’s more fair not to give them any hope from the start.”
“But —”
“If they were talented enough, I could deal with being a little uncomfortable. But I won’t make you uncomfortable if I can avoid it,” Yibo explained, his tone very matter-of-fact. “Besides, that’s the way they decided to play it, so it’s their own fault for not doing enough research. Smart fans know I’m already taken.”
His entire perspective of the situation was so unintentionally sweet and romantic, so forthright and loyal and Yibo, that Xiao Zhan couldn’t help but kiss the smirk that followed right off Yibo’s face.
So Yibo had done things his way, building the team he wanted and using the show and performances to show off not only his skills and that of his team but also to embrace the chance to be himself on stage.
Whether it was choreographing dances where he was surrounded by geges touching him in what was meant to come across as a sexual way or letting them throw him around (the way he liked Xiao Zhan to do sometimes in the bedroom), the look of elation on Yibo’s face was a joy to behold. Yibo was living his best life, and it was just as enjoyable for Xiao Zhan to watch as it was for his boyfriend to experience.
But after months of a grueling filming schedule — crammed into an already busy calendar of Day Day Up tapings, appearances, commercials, photo shoots and other responsibilities — the physical demands of the show had taken a toll on Yibo. He’d been injured a few times during practice, once to the point that he’d been unable to hide it from fans.
“It comes with the work, Zhan-ge,” Yibo argued when Xiao Zhan had nagged at him for overdoing it and spraining his ankle. Then his teasing smirk appeared. “I guess you’ll just have to carry me everywhere.”
So Xiao Zhan did. He scooped him up, with Yibo’s surprised laugh echoing off the walls as his arms flailed to grab around Xiao Zhan’s neck, and carried him straight to bed — where he immediately propped Yibo’s ankle up on as many pillows as he could find. An ice pack followed, along with a bone broth soup Xiao Zhan made that was supposed to promote muscle repair (at least according to his mother, who had sent him the recipe as soon as she’d heard about her second son’s injury.)
Yibo, being the endearing gremlin that he was, had demanded to be hand-fed on the grounds that he “couldn’t concentrate on using the spoon with his leg at such an awkward angle.”
Xiao Zhan, finding him completely obnoxious and yet somehow also ridiculously cute, threatened to dump it on his head — but gave in anyway. Years ago, he would never have imagined that he would be sitting at a bedside, blowing onto a spoon and then feeding a perfectly capable man like he was in one of those ever-present token scenes between leads in a romantic drama.
He’d known it for some time, but there was no longer any doubt — there was no limit to what he’d do for Wang Yibo. To take care of him, to protect him, to make him happy.
As much as Yibo liked to spoil him, Xiao Zhan never wasted an opportunity to do it back. With that thought in mind, he put in an order for the ingredients he’d need for a few of Yibo’s favorite dishes. He had three days to stuff his boy full of home-cooked love and healthy nutrients to help him recover and recharge, and he wouldn’t waste a second of it.
*****
The sound of the front door startled Xiao Zhan, and he had a moment of panic as he looked up from his iPad, where he’d been doodling for the last hour. The familiar profile of the man next to the door entering the alarm code and toeing off his shoes was a relief, though still a bit of a surprise.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Xiao Zhan said, standing from his cozy spot on the couch as Yibo walked into the living area. “Did you catch an earlier flight?”
Xiao Zhan’s welcoming smile slipped a bit as he noticed how slowly Yibo was moving, a slight limp still present as he tried to keep pressure off of his still-healing ankle. The wan smile and dark circles beneath his eyes did nothing to diminish Xiao Zhan’s worry.
“Yeah, just wanted to get home,” Yibo said, letting Xiao Zhan pull him into his arms for a hug.
He smelled like stale air and the distinct mustiness of travel, but Xiao Zhan breathed him in anyway, dropping a kiss near the mole on the back side of his neck.
“You look like hell, baobei,” he said, pulling away slightly to look at Yibo with sympathy.
“Wow, thanks, Zhan-ge,” Yibo replied sarcastically, but only held onto Xiao Zhan tighter.
“Did you get any sleep?”
As if the question had triggered a signal in his brain, Yibo yawned and laid his head on Xiao Zhan’s shoulder. “Some.”
So that means probably very little, Xiao Zhan thought. He would have gotten back to the hotel very late after the celebrations, and if he’d left on an earlier flight, there wouldn’t have been many hours left for sleep in between.
“Have you eaten?” Xiao Zhan asked. “Do you want me to draw you a bath?”
“Relax, Zhan-ge,” Yibo said. “I’m fine.”
There was just the barest hint of Henan in his accent, which Xiao Zhan knew only slipped in when Yibo was both particularly drowsy and someone was fussing over him the way his mother liked to do during his rare visits home.
“What do you need?” Xiao Zhan asked. His boy looked like he might fall over in a strong wind, and his brain was already in problem solving-mode, wishing he could just wave a magic wand and make Yibo feel better.
“Just you,” Yibo answered with a sigh. His hand came up to wrap around Xiao Zhan’s jaw, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sweet and slow, unhurried, just fitting back together after a few weeks apart like two wires being reconnected to form a circuit.
The warm feeling of true contentment that Xiao Zhan only ever felt with Yibo filled up his chest, his internal batteries already recharging from just a few kisses from the man in his arms.
Yibo’s lips trailed down along his jaw, then he snuggled against Xiao Zhan for a few more seconds before pulling away and adding with a soft chuckle, “And probably a shower.”
“Go then,” Xiao Zhan said, gently nudging him toward the bathroom. “It will help you relax.”
Yibo laughed. “Am I on vacation?”
“Yes!” Xiao Zhan answered firmly. “You’ve got a few days to rest and recuperate, so get started.”
“Yes, sir!” Yibo responded with a laugh and a weak salute. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase to roll it into their bedroom as he headed for the ensuite.
Xiao Zhan wasted no time, not even waiting to hear the water start to run before he was pulling things from the fridge to make a quick batch of noodles. Even if Yibo wasn’t hungry, he would never refuse his favorites, and Xiao Zhan knew the travel-weary man would feel better with something warm to settle his stomach.
Luckily, Yibo took his time in the shower, probably letting the warm water relax his tired muscles. It had been a long few weeks of hard dance practice leading up to the finals, and Xiao Zhan knew too well what that could feel like, even for someone like Yibo who was used to it.
Xiao Zhan scooped the noodles into the bowl, adding to the top what was probably a ridiculous amount of coriander for a normal human (but was considered a reasonable amount to Wang Yibo), and carried it into the bedroom. He sat it on the side table and looked up at the click of the bathroom door, a wave of white steam escaping as it swung open.
Yibo strolled out, still moving a little slowly but seemingly more at ease at least, and Xiao Zhan’s tongue suddenly felt caught in his throat. He would have thought that after years of being together, he’d be accustomed to how effortlessly gorgeous his partner was, but now and then he still couldn’t help but be struck by it.
Yibo was dressed only in a pair of rich red boxer briefs that clung to his toned body, with his pale skin dewy and still glistening somewhat from the shower, and his hair a damp, tousled mess on top of his head. He was too skinny again, too busy with work to eat properly, and it made the lines and curves of his muscles more pronounced beneath his smooth skin.
He looked like a piece of art, and as he walked to the dresser to find a t-shirt, Xiao Zhan could only swallow the dryness in his mouth and appreciate the view. As his eyes slid over the tempting sight, he looked more closely and noticed the splashes of color marring Yibo’s skin. Bruises dotted his arms, legs, and torso in various shades ranging from purple to light green.
Xiao Zhan frowned. “I don’t think your symbol should have been a panther, Bo-ge. You look more like a rainbow Dalmatian.”
“What?” Yibo turned, and Xiao Zhan’s eyes slid from a mark along the ribs of Yibo’s back to his right knee, which was a bright angry red with purpling around the edges.
“Baby!” Xiao Zhan exclaimed, already moving to pull Yibo closer so he could examine the injury. He stopped Yibo before he could slide the shirt over his head. “What did you do? I thought you were wearing your knee pads?”
He couldn’t keep the worry from his voice as he ran his finger over the injury, his touch just barely brushing the skin. He looked up at Yibo from where he sat on the bed, one expectant eyebrow raised in question.
Yibo looked chagrined. “I only wear them when I need them. We were messing around between rehearsals last week, just freestyling, and I wasn’t thinking and landed too hard…”
“Wang Yibo…” Xiao Zhan’s voice rang with disappointment. This boy would be the death of him. For as smart as he was, it was amazing how little regard Yibo had for his own health at times. Xiao Zhan blamed it on his youth — the man still thought he was bulletproof and made of silicone that would bounce back from any injury the way he had since he was young. But Xiao Zhan knew that there was a limit to what a body could take without those injuries becoming more permanent.
“I was wrong,” Yibo said, hanging his head like a scolded puppy.
“Just wait until you need surgery on that knee and can’t do those moves anymore,” Xiao Zhan complained, pulling the unused shirt from Yibo’s hand and throwing it toward the lounge chair. “Or worse, what if you can’t dance?”
He got up, pointing to the bed to indicate Yibo should sit in the spot he’d vacated, and went to the bathroom to find the cream he needed. From the bathroom, Yibo’s voice called in answer, “I can’t dance forever, Ge!”
Xiao Zhan came back to the bed, glaring down at his partner. “When we’ve been married for thirty years like my parents, am I going to have to dance with you in your wheelchair? Is that what you’re saying?”
A brilliant smile broke over Yibo’s face. “Thirty years is a long time, Gege. I’m sure we’ll have the technology for mechanical legs or something by then. Don’t worry, my husband will still be so handsome, I’ll make sure I can still fight off all of his admirers.”
Xiao Zhan couldn’t help but smile back, ruffling Yibo’s hair fondly even as he huffed, “Aish! You… Here, eat your noodles.”
Yibo’s eyes lit up as Xiao Zhan shoved the unnoticed bowl into his hands, his expression so full of love and adoration it was like Xiao Zhan had given him his own private island instead of a simple meal. The chopsticks were already at work, mixing up the noodles and greens.
“Zhan-ge is too good to me,” Yibo gushed after he swallowed the first bite.
Heart warm, Xiao Zhan knelt on the floor, snapping open the cap of the bruise cream and squirting some into his hand. He gently began to apply it to Yibo’s knee, watching the young man try not to wince at the pain. “That’s right. And ZhanZhan is going to make sure you take care of yourself until you have to go back to work in a few days.”
As Yibo ate, Xiao Zhan moved around him, finding every mark and injury and lightly smoothing cream onto the multicolored skin. Unconsciously, he dropped a tiny kiss on each one, the way his mother used to do when he was small and scraped up his knees. He only realized his actions when he had finished and saw Yibo’s face, glowing with such a sweet expression and a smirk he was trying to hide. Xiao Zhan ducked his face and busied himself with clearing away Yibo’s dishes to hide the blush creeping up his neck.
“Now lay down. You need to rest,” Xiao Zhan demanded, before Yibo could say a word to tease him. It was late morning now, not the best time for a nap, but they had nowhere to be, and Yibo definitely needed to catch up on his sleep.
“Only if you lay here with me,” Yibo said, settling back against the pillows.
It was too easy to placate him, looking so soft and cute among the fluffy bedding. Xiao Zhan crawled in beside him, maneuvering his arms so he could hold his boy. So close and facing each other, it was no surprise when Yibo moved closer to capture his lips.
He could tell that Yibo was tired, his kisses languid and chaste. Xiao Zhan relaxed against him, sinking into the chance to just taste him and be close without rushing for more.
Then Yibo’s hand snaked down between them, sliding temptingly along Xiao Zhan’s torso. It was stopped at his stomach, sandwiched between Xiao Zhan’s navel and hand, which held it firmly in place and was preventing any movement lower.
“Baobao,” Yibo chastised. “Let me —”
“No,” Xiao Zhan said firmly. “You need to rest and let your body recover. That’s the most important thing. I know you’re young and think you have no limits, but if you’re not careful, all of these injuries are going to catch up to you one day.”
“But —”
“No buts,” Xiao Zhan cut him off.
“Your birthday is tomorrow,” Yibo pointed out, as if it was any kind of argument that would help make his case.
“I know,” Xiao Zhan said with a small smile. “And this is the best possible gift.”
Yibo pulled back slightly to peer at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.
“ You, baobei,” Xiao Zhan said, pulling him close against his chest. “Safe and sound and in my arms.”
“You sap,” Yibo said, snuggling in so that his face settled against the side of his boyfriend’s neck, his breath like a soft caress on Xiao Zhan’s skin.
“ Your sap,” Xiao Zhan corrected. “Hush, baobei. Go to sleep.”
His hand carded gently through the short strands of Yibo’s hair, listening to the younger man’s breathing as it quickly evened out. Yibo could keep going forever with seemingly boundless energy, but when he finally gave in to it, he could fall asleep incredibly quickly. His ability to sleep so deeply on demand often made Xiao Zhan wonder if Yibo had trained his body to rest the same way he made it do everything else — with the sheer force of his will.
Xiao Zhan wasn’t very tired, but there was something about the feel of warm boy against him and the scent of Yibo’s shampoo that was like a Pavlovian response, making all the tension flow out of his body. It was so much easier to bury all the little worries, the long list of responsibilities and things to keep track of, and just live in the moment when he had Yibo’s solid presence beside him.
His little prince and protector. And, for all the popularity and fortune he’d gained in the last year, still the best thing Xiao Zhan had gotten out of his decision to leap into the entertainment industry.
In a few years, when the lights had dimmed, and the fame was gone, they would still have each other. To hold close, to tend to the aches and pains of life and old age. To care for each other the way they had from the very beginning — during a sweltering, wonderful summer that changed their lives forever.