Archive of Our Own

"Do you ever miss us?" Shang Qinghua asks on a late Friday night, out in the open air and beneath the moon's gleaming light. A party happens behind the glass doors that lead to the balcony, its sounds a backdrop to a long-awaited conversation. 

Mobei-jun doesn't say anything, at first, as he takes a sip of his drink – a scotch, neat. Shang Qinghua watches as he swallows it down, watches the line of his throat move. It's near hypnotic but Shang Qinghua doesn't let it distract him. Instead, he waits patiently for an answer as he takes a sip of his own drink – a glass of champagne. 

Just as the liquid hits his tongue, fizzy and light, does Mobei-jun finally speak. 

"I do." 

Shang Qinghua nearly chokes as champagne touches the back of his throat – now harsh and violent – and sends him into a coughing fit. He tries to gather himself, wheezing around every breath he takes and he's so caught up in trying not to die that he doesn't immediately register the cool hand patting his back. It's when he's finally able to breathe that Shang Qinghua notices and when he does, his whole body goes rigid. 

The hand pats him a few more times before it's sliding away, coming to rest by Mobei-jun's side. Shang Qinghua takes a deep breath, purposefully avoiding Mobei-jun's gaze, before he lets out a loud sigh. 

"Well, fuck." He says to the city beyond the balcony, to its lit-up skyline and twinkling lights of cars driving below. He hears Mobei-jun huff a laugh, whether it's amused Shang Qinghua isn't quite sure, and he warily risks a glance in Mobei-jun's direction. 

Mobei-jun is…smiling. 

A small thing that lifts up the corners of his lips. A tiny gem that Shang Qinghua remembers receiving every day when they were together – regardless of whatever mood he was in. Mobei-jun always kept that smile for him, just for him and seeing it for the first time in two years makes Shang Qinghua's heart squeeze painfully in his chest. 

His fingers itch to reach out and trace the soft curve of it. 

"Was my answer that surprising to you?" Mobei-jun asks, looking outwards to the city and possibly beyond it.

"...Kind of," Shang Qinghua confesses after a moment of hesitation. He brings his drink up to his mouth as it parts for another sip. He's going to need a lot more alcohol if he's going to get through his conversation. "I thought that your answer was going to be in the realm of no fucking way."

Mobei-jun raises an eyebrow at that, visible confusion settling over his features. He doesn't look at Shang Qinghua, keeping his gaze directly in front of him as he asks, 

"Why would you think that?" 

Shang Qinghua shrugs before leaning against the railing, his glass dangling between his fingers. 

"Because our break-up was less than ideal," he replies then snorts. "We didn't exactly leave each other on good terms."

Mobei-jun hums in quiet agreement then casts a look in Shang Qinghua's way.

"And whose fault was that?" 

Shang Qinghua grips the stem of his glass as a flash of anger rolls through him. He grits his teeth – keeping words in because they're locked and loaded, perched upon his tongue and more than ready to hurt. That was a cheap shot from Mobei-jun, they both know it, but Shang Qinghua can't really dispute it. 

Because Mobei-jun was right. 

It was his fault. 

But he thought he had been helping them – helping Mobei-jun by ending the relationship before it inevitably crashed and burned. 

They weren't meant for each other, not really, as they weren't two birds of the same feather. Shang Qinghua doesn't even know how they ended up together in the first place; the two of them are so different from the other that they shouldn't have worked for as long as they did. But they did and could still have been because Shang Qinghua had never been in a relationship where it felt so right.

Regardless of their differences, he and Mobei-jun worked so well together. They understood each other in a way no one else could and moved in such synchronisation that it used to terrify the people around them at times. 

"It's like you guys were made for each other." Shen Qingqiu had said one time, after watching how Shang Qinghua and Mobei-jun followed with and around each other. Like two streams that met in the middle to form their own river – gently moving and coming together as one. Shang Qinghua didn't realise it, at the time, but maybe that was due to how natural it felt. Being with Mobei-jun hadn't felt like a brand new experience – the type that you got when you met someone new for the first time – but like an old, comforting flame that had been sustained for up to a lifetime. 

Yes, the initial meeting had been tough; mainly because Shang Qinghua thought Mobei-jun hated him. Anyone else would have also thought the same if someone was consistently glaring at you and looked like they wanted to throw very hard objects at your head. But that hadn't been the case and in fact, Mobei-jun had been just as smitten with Shang Qinghua as Shang Qinghua had been with him. 

A huge shocker, of course, but Shang Qinghua hadn't been about to question the universe's choices in giving him someone who genuinely and utterly loved him. 

Until he did. 

Pain strikes at Shang Qinghua's chest; a strong pang that makes him want to grasp at his heart. He can't look Mobei-jun in the eye, his gaze avoiding as he keeps it on the city and its now too-bright skyline. 

It's silent between them, too quiet despite the bustling of the party that happens behind them – loud enough to be heard through glass panes. It's uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, and Shang Qinghua feels the urge to run away, tail tucked between his legs. There's a serious conversation brewing, one that has been brewing for years and now it's rearing its ugly head – ready to be had so past grievances can be put to rest. 

Shang Qinghua just doesn't know who's going to start it. Maybe it should be him since he's the reason this conversation needs to happen in the first place. But before he can even psyche himself up for the terrifying task, Mobei-jun speaks first:

"Why did you do it?" 

Shang Qinghua tenses. 

"Why did you end it?" Mobei-jun clarifies after going unanswered for a short while. 

Shang Qinghua doesn't know what to say – or he does know what to say but doesn't know how to say it. He had thought about this moment for a long time; since the day they broke up and parted ways for good or what had seemed like it. He thought about what he was going to say, the reasoning behind his decisions and how he had made the best choice for the both of them. He just never thought he'd actually have to say them aloud with Mobei-jun around to listen. 

Once well-formed thoughts become jumbled, crumbling into mush and Shang Qinghua suddenly wonders how quickly he'd die if he flung himself off the balcony. He looks down below and thinks that a drop from a 75-story building would definitely be the end of him. 

It would be less painful than having to go through with this. 

As if inside Shang Qinghua's head, a cool hand wraps around his forearm – as if to prevent any sudden movements and Shang Qinghua doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry. 

Even after all this time, Mobei-jun still knows him so well…and it hurts. 

Shang Qinghua sighs and closes his eyes for a brief second, summoning his courage before words finally manage to tumble from his mouth: 

"I…I thought I was doing what was best for us." 

His words are met by silence but Shang Qinghua doesn't mind – he wasn't expecting an immediate response and wasn't hoping for one. He still has a lot to say and if Mobei-jun interrupts him, he wouldn't be able to continue. 

"You were up for a big promotion when I received an opportunity for my book," Shang Qinghua continues. "A publisher was finally interested and they were legit, too. They sincerely wanted to publish my work. We were so happy when we found out, remember? You treated me to my favourite meal that day." 

A soft smile curves Shang Qinghua's lips as he recalls that day; the sheer happiness of it all at the prospect of his big break. He had been trying so hard to be recognised – to be acknowledged and seen by the ones who could make his dreams come true. But the big publishers didn't want what he had to offer, were only invested in plotlines that would

guarantee success in the market. Shang Qinghua could do that – had been doing that for years under a pseudonym – but he wanted to do something different and bring to life an idea he's been holding onto for a long, long time. 

Shang Qinghua was on the verge of giving up hope and would have fallen if it wasn't for Mobei-jun who caught him just in time. It was Mobei-jun who had encouraged him, who told him to chase after what he wanted even if it meant failing hundreds of times. Because there was bound to be someone out there who would give him his breakthrough and six months later, those words came true. 

He had made it. 

Shang Qinghua had made it. 

But sometimes making it meant making sacrifices. 

"They told me I had to move near them since it made for easier communication and work," Shang Qinghua goes on. "And I had hesitated because moving away meant leaving you. I told you this and I-" He interrupts himself with a chuckle as another memory springs out at him. "I remember you forcing me to call them back on a Monday morning, watching me closely to ensure I told them I could make the move. You did everything to make sure that I didn't back out or second guess my decisions. You were with me every step of the way and it only made me fall in love with you harder." 

Silence follows swiftly again and this time, Shang Qinghua does expect Mobei-jun to speak. It's not immediate – it never really is with Mobei-jun – but his voice seems to fill the night sky when he does, his words dripped in an emotion that Shang Qinghua can't necessarily describe but knows is sad. 

"This only further confuses me," Mobei-jun replies and Shang Qinghua knows that if he looks at him, there'd be a furrow between Mobei-jun's dark brows. "It still doesn't answer the question of why you ended it, nor does it explain you thought you were doing what's best for us. You recounted memories that I have also lived and I remember them as fondly as you do. So I'm puzzled because-" Mobei-jun suddenly falls silent and Shang Qinghua doesn't know what to make of that. 

He instantly assumes that Mobei-jun is angry – so angry to the point he can no longer speak. It's happened before but never towards Shang Qinghua; he'd only been witness to it when Mobei-jun was on call with idiotic business associates. To be the cause of his fury now is, truthfully, horrifying and Shang Qinghua wonders how he can calm him down when it was he who used to be Mobei-jun's solace. But Shang Qinghua doesn't need to calm him down; his anger is justified, valid but it hurts him to see that he is the reason why Mobei-jun is feeling this way. 

But then Mobei-jun speaks, soft and low:

"...Did I not treat you well enough?" 

Those words pour ice-cold water over Shang Qinghua, leaving him shocked and freezing down to his bones. He turns to look at Mobei-jun, eyes wide with his mouth agape as the shock still rings loudly throughout his body. Mobei-jun doesn't meet his gaze but his expression is open, open in a way that Shang Qinghua has only seen a handful of times throughout their relationship. 

It's always beautiful to witness the true depth of Mobei-jun's emotions – it's a rarity that you must treat with the utmost respect whenever it is shown to you because it's a huge sign of trust. It shows that Mobei-jun regards you as someone he can truly open up to, someone he can be his actual self around and that is a gift that should never be misused or squandered. 

Shang Qinghua thought he had lost that gift the moment he and Mobei-jun parted ways. 

But to see Mobei-jun still be so vulnerable around him – to see him so visibly upset over the thought that he caused Shang Qinghua to leave makes Shang Qinghua want to shatter into a million pieces and cease his own existence. 

Shang Qinghua is shaking his head and reaching out before he even realises it. His brain doesn't register him touching the smooth skin of Mobei-jun's cheeks or looking into his clear blue eyes, momentarily widened in surprise at the sudden closeness of them both. None of this registers – none of that clicks because there's an urgency running through Shang Qinghua's body, threatening to pull him under if he doesn't get out what he needs to say. 

"It was never you," Shang Qinghua says, stressing as he holds Mobei-jun's gaze, struggling to breathe at the traces of guilt he sees within vivid blue. He wants to make it disappear – make it go away and toss it into the deep abyss so it can never reach Mobei-jun again. "It was never you, Mobei, and I say that with my whole chest, with my whole heart." 

Mobei-jun is struggling to believe him; Shang Qinghua can see it in the flickering uncertainty in his eyes and feel it in the tension rolling under his skin. Shang Qinghua watches, almost frantic, as Mobei-jun breaks their gaze and it looks like he wants to pull away from him. Like he can't handle Shang Qinghua's words being the truth because he's thought the opposite for so long that his own truth is too hard to change. 

All because Shang Qinghua thought he was doing what was right – failing to see if it was doing right by the man he loved ( loves ) the most. 

Shang Qinghua has never hated himself as much as he does right now. 

"You treated me better than anybody else had. Ever." Shang Qinghua continues. "You actually loved and supported me. You would have done anything for me and even now, I still can't understand why you would have." Something tight settles in his throat and Shang Qinghua tries to swallow around it but it won't budge and it hurts. "Mobei, you gave me the world , you gave me your heart and you made it so easy and so wonderful for me to give you the same." 

"But then why‐?" Mobei-jun immediately starts to ask, a too desperate lilt in his voice and Shang Qinghua breaks again. 

"Because you would have done anything for me," Shang Qinghua repeats, his voice strained as the tightness in his throat swells. "You were going to turn down the promotion at your job – the one you had been working hard towards for months and I couldn't-" Shang Qinghua's breath catches his throat as a small sob sits at the base of his tongue. "-couldn't let you do that because I love you too much to let that happen…for you to give up such a brilliant opportunity because of me." 

Shang Qinghua's hands have slipped from Mobei-jun's face to the lapels of his jacket – fingers gripping at fine material in an attempt to anchor himself as he curls in his sorrow. He doesn't know when he starts crying but it stuns him to see the water drops on the balcony's pavement. It takes him a few seconds to realise that it isn't rain but his own tears. Embarrassment flares up in him, though it only lasts a moment before it's crushed under the heavy collapse of his sadness. 

The silence between them stretches for miles, seemingly unending and it goes on for a moment too long to make Shang Qinghua grow unsettled before it's broken by a tired sigh. A hand comes to rest on Shang Qinghua's back – its warmth and comfort so familiar that Shang Qinghua cries that little bit harder. 

"You did not have the right to make that choice for me," Mobei-jun says. "I'm my own person and I know what decisions are and aren't right for me to make."

Shang Qinghua says nothing, listening. 

"When you said you wanted to break up, it introduced me to a pain I had never felt," Mobei-jun continues, slowly. "It was like I had lost the most important thing in my life and I couldn't do anything about it because it was your choice." He pauses momentarily to take a slight shaky breath. "I couldn't stop you from leaving even if you wouldn't tell me why and I had to live with that. I had to live with that and without you for the rest of my life…and I couldn't do anything about it." 

Shang Qinghua's vision grows increasingly blurred as the wet drops on the ground steadily multiply. His lips part to let out a breath and they work to form letters that wish to transform into words – but the stupid tightness in his throat is becoming too much. 

And what would he say anyway? 

There's so much yet so little for him to get out and it's like he's at the beginning of the conversation again – overwhelmed and terrified. 

"I loved… love you more than anybody else but maybe I didn't tell or show you enough. Then I believed it was my fault that you left because it was easier to think that than believe that you simply didn't want us anymore. At least I could somewhat cope with that than deal with the possibility that you just woke up one morning, looked at me and felt nothing." 

The words hurt – it's like being stabbed by tiny knives that sink deep into your skin. Shang Qinghua is in pain but he can't imagine how worse it must be for Mobei-jun. For him to live with this idea for so long, to carry it on his shoulders to the point where it's pushed him down. And it was all Shang Qinghua's fault – he caused this out of his own fear and worry, out of his desperate drive to protect Mobei-jun. 

"I could never stop feeling for you," Shang Qinghua murmurs, still curled into himself and barely loud enough for Mobei-jun to hear. "I… every day, I was overwhelmed by how much I felt for you and it always felt right. Believe me, letting you go was the hardest thing I ever had to do and I had to write ten pages two days before a deadline." He hears Mobei-jun let out a huff, feels it against his fingers gripping at Mobei-jun's chest and his lips shakily attempt a smile. "But I did because you would have given up something incredible and while my selfish self wanted you to come with me, I didn't…I didn't want you to end up regretting it down the line because sooner or later, you would have wondered how life would have gone if you had taken that promotion." 

You would have ended up resenting me, Shang Qinghua leaves unsaid. 

"But look at you now!" Shang Qinghua exclaims, trying to spin this positively despite how his words waver. "You're doing so well and attending such extravagant events while dressed in the finest materials – like look at this bespoke suit which I probably shouldn't be crushing like this right now, haha!" He carefully unfurls his fingers from Mobei-jun's jacket, standing up a little straighter as he smoothes out the fabric. "So it worked out in the end didn't it, Mobei? We're both living our dreams because neither of us had to give it up and‐" 

He's interrupted by hands – always slightly cold but so comforting – cupping his cheeks and tilting his head upward. Shang Qinghua's eyes leave the safe view of Mobei-jun's jacket before they're looking into blue eyes, delicately red around the rim of them. There are no tear stains on Mobei-jun's cheeks but the redness of his eyes tells Shang Qinghua that he's so very close to letting it all go. The thought of Mobei-jun breaking makes Shang Qinghua want to scream because that's the very last thing he wants. 

But there's only crying by him; he doesn't and can't stop crying and new tears replace the ones that Mobei-jun continuously brushes away, his thumbs running a soothing arc over the arch of his cheekbones. This goes on for a while – perhaps it goes on forever, Shang Qinghua loses track of time – and it's almost as if they're trapped in their own bubble, away from the noises of the party and the world around them. Shang Qinghua could live peacefully here, far from everything else and near the only person that matters. It's easy to pretend that things are okay, that things are going to be okay – but a painful reality awaits them outside this moment and Mobei-jun is the one to bring it swiftly upon them.

"You're really not as smart as I thought," Mobei-jun murmurs before leaning down to press a lingering kiss on Shang Qinghua's forehead. "If you think I'm living my dream." 

Shang Qinghua can only close his eyes as he stifles his sobs, hands coming up to wrap around Mobei-jun's wrists as he holds onto him a little bit longer.

_______________

The party ends with the flash of fireworks in the dark sky, putting the stars to shame for a mere few seconds before they vanish. Shang Qinghua doesn't marvel at them as the others do – instead, he takes the opportunity to leave while everyone else is distracted. 

He doesn't see Mobei-jun in the crowd or on his way out, doesn't catch a glimpse of dark hair or a tall, strong frame dressed in a suit coloured darker than his eyes. He tries not to linger but he does, leaving the venue with slow feet with a searching gaze and his heart in his throat. 

Shang Qinghua knew not to expect anything from their conversation. It was good to talk it out and air out the miseries they had been carrying, to have them lifted off their shoulders even if for a little while. But once the conversation ended, so did their need to interact and Shang Qinghua had to watch Mobei-jun walk away from him – just like he did when Shang Qinghua had told him it was over. 

To lose Mobei-jun then was hard and losing him again was worse – despite them clearing the air. Foolishly, Shang Qinghua had hoped that maybe there'd be a possibility for them to…try again. To see what would happen now that there were no huge obstacles to stand in their way due to the stability they had in their respective fields. He had hoped that talking would act like a reset button and they'd be able to start again without the fear of resentment or loss. But it was too big of a hope and even Shang Qinghua knew that when Mobei-jun kissed his forehead once more before turning away from him, leaving him on the balcony alone. 

Shang Qinghua stops outside the event hall, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to prevent another wave of tears. He sniffles, breathing heavily into the cold air and thanking whoever above that no one is around to see his potential breakdown. He manages to not break down, only removing his hands when he's sure he isn't going to burst into full-on tears before retrieving his phone from his coat pocket to order a DiDi.

But the moment he's about to request a ride, slightly cold fingers wrap around his wrist. Shang Qinghua nearly jumps out of his skin, eyes going wide as his head snaps up to the right, taking in the person by his side. He stares into blue eyes, takes in that handsome face and it seems like Shang Qinghua is going to break down after all. 

"Mobei…" Shang Qinghua's voice wobbles, laden with so much emotion that he fears he may choke on it. 

Mobei-jun looks at him before his lips curve into a small but fond smile. 

"Let me take you home." He says, and Shang Qinghua doesn't resist when his phone is taken from his hand and placed back into his pocket. 

He doesn't resist when Mobei-jun begins to gently drag him towards his car, hand still around his wrist with a long finger against his palm – a symbol of a want to hold hands but being careful to not overstep any boundaries. 

Shang Qinghua stares at Mobei-jun – eyes still wide and goodness, he's going to cry again. But cautious happiness wells up in him followed by that hope for a future where it's them together again. 

Shang Qinghua smiles and it's a small, tiny thing. 

They're going to be okay.