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Sometimes Xingchen wonders if he’s chosen the right person. If he was right in offering Xue Yang his home and after some time, his heart.
Xingchen considers himself a good person. He tries to be. Xue Yang… lives off creating chaos. His impressive criminal record and mean tongue are enough proof that he’s definitely not a model citizen.
Everyone takes one look at him, tattoos and long hair included, mistrusting eyes and constant tension in his shoulders, like he’s ready to bolt any moment, and immediately Xingchen can tell what they’re thinking. He’s trouble. He’s going to break his heart.
Maybe. Xingchen admits it’s a possibility. He still has to swallow back hurt every time Xue Yang lashes out, attacking him where it stings because that’s what he does best, finds weak spots and presses when he feels threatened. He’s gotten better, but old habits die hard.
Xingchen wouldn’t say loving Xue Yang is hard, but it’s not easy either. Sometimes he disappears for days on time only to come back confused when Xingchen’s waiting for him with frustration burning in his lungs and tears in the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t understand why he can no longer run off without word, now that there’s someone actually worried about him.
He doesn’t understand that someone loves him now. He probably never will. Xingchen’s okay with that. He’s willing to prove it day after day, however long it takes.
Sometimes Xue Yang gets snappy, picks a fight over spilled coffee and leaves Xingchen blinking in the kitchen, confused. He’s come to learn that on those days, the space where Xue Yang’s pinky should be, aches worse than it usually does. Xue Yang might be used to pain, but that doesn’t mean he knows how to handle it. No one ever taught him how.
On those days, Xingchen will crowd his boyfriend where he can’t escape and take his hand into his own. Xue Yang will protest, like he always does, but he won’t pull away, looks down instead while Xingchen gently massages his stump until the pain is gone.
Xue Yang stirs beside him, a soft sigh escaping his bitten lips. Xingchen blinks back into focus and can’t help the smile that tugs at his mouth. His boyfriend is like a rabid kitten who, with the right amount of scratches, turns into a house cat.
He reaches out to push a lock of inky hair out of Xue Yang’s eyes, revealing longs eyelashes and purple bruising under them. He doesn’t really get much sleep.
Xue Yang grunts softly and his lashes flutter before he opens his eyes, bleary and not focused. His hand reaches out instinctively to grab at Xingchen’s bare chest, and he suppresses a smile as he encloses it in his fist and holds it close. “Wha-“
“Go to sleep,” Xingchen murmurs, shifts closer to press a kiss to Xue Yang’s warm forehead. He stays there and just breathes in the comforting scent of his soulmate. “It’s still early, get more rest.”
Xue Yang grunts again but his breathing soon falls steady again and Xingchen knows he’s dead to the world. His sweet, sleepy boyfriend. Sometimes it’s hard to connect this Xue Yang to the one who slammed Song Lan against the wall and pulled a knife on his throat all because he’d absently commented on his height.
Song Lan still makes him show his pockets before he enters their house.
Xue Yang shifts, his face falling to rest against Xingchen’s neck. Xingchen lifts a hand to hold the back of his head, carding his fingers through thick hair. It makes his insides burn, knowing the amount of trust Xue Yang has in him to let him see him this vulnerable. They’ve come far.
Maybe someday Xue Yang will allow him to propose. He doesn’t do weddings, scoffs at those TV-shows showing huge celebrations and dresses, but maybe they could hold a small one with just their – Xingchen’s originally, but they’re Xue Yang’s too even if he’ll never believe it – friends, somewhere with flowers and sun and then they could take a flight to somewhere exotic, just the two of them.
Xingchen tightens his hold on Xue Yang. Some day.
He doesn’t know if he’s chosen the right person. He’s not convinced Xue Yang won’t break his heart someday, but maybe it doesn’t matter. He’d rather take a week with Xue Yang than a lifetime of not having him at all.
Because he loves him. And he knows, even if Xue Yang won’t ever admit it verbally, might not even recognize the feeling, deep down he loves him too. And that’s enough.