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Xiao Xingchen was generally a deep sleeper, so it was unusual that he was awake at three in the morning on a Thursday night. He put it down to the nightmare he couldn’t remember that woke him up feeling anxious enough that he got up to get a glass of water. He was sipping it, calming himself down, when he heard a loud thud outside the apartment door followed by “ow, fuck!” His anxiety spiked and he drew back for the moment before he realized that he recognized the voice, which brought relief followed just as quickly by renewed alarm. He checked the time on the stove like it might change.
“Xue Yang?” he said tentatively, taking a step toward the door but not more than that.
“You’re awake?” came his boyfriend’s voice through the door. “Good, spares me having to pick your lock.”
Xiao Xingchen blinked. “It’s the middle of the night,” he said, but he was already walking over to open the door. “Where’s your key?”
“I noticed,” Xue Yang said. “And it’s probably at my place, where I left it.”
Xiao Xingchen opened the door, still confused and uneasy. Xue Yang was leaning with his shoulder against one side of the frame, holding his leather jacket tightly around himself like he was cold. He did look cold, squinting up at Xiao Xingchen; unusual for him, particularly when Xiao Xingchen had his windows open so it wasn’t too warm.
“Great,” Xue Yang said, with a toothy smile, pushing off the wall and nearly shouldering past Xiao Xingchen into the apartment. “Thanks, Xingchen. Give me a minute, I need to piss.” He made a beeline over to the bathroom, jacket still on. Xiao Xingchen’s neck prickled and he frowned, confusion and unease growing.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he said again. “What are you doing here?”
“Wow, Xingchen, thanks for the welcome,” Xue Yang said, through the now-closed bathroom door. “I was out, your place was closer, figured I’d crash here instead of going all the way home. If you want me to leave…”
“No,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I don’t, but…” He took a deep breath and caught a whiff of…something. A smell it took him a minute to pin down. “Xue Yang, are you…okay?”
“Yeah, why?” Was he imagining it or was there a little bit of strain in his voice?
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m – Jesus fucking shit,” Xue Yang said. Xiao Xingchen covered the distance over to the closed door in a few strides.
“Xue Yang?”
“I’m fine, just a sec,” Xue Yang said, but his voice sounded strange. There was a clatter like something knocked off a counter, and then silence. Xiao Xingchen tried the door and found it locked. His alarm was getting stronger by the second.
“Xue Yang!”
A groan. Then, “fuck,” and finally, “shit. Okay.”
“Open the door,” Xiao Xingchen said urgently.
The door opened. Xue Yang was on his feet, but his face was pale and sweaty, his jacket was discarded on the floor, and he was holding Xiao Xingchen’s hand towel to his ribs. There were red smears on the floor and the countertop, on Xue Yang’s hands and forehead, and a damp red stain on the towel.
Xiao Xingchen’s head spun. His stomach lurched. Blood, he thought distantly. That’s blood, he’s bleeding, that looks like a lot.
“Breathe, Xingchen,” Xue Yang said. “And if you’re gonna throw up please don’t do it on me.”
Xiao Xingchen forced himself to inhale. “You – are – I need to call an ambulance,” he said, his voice pathetically thin. Even as he was turning to go get his phone Xue Yang grabbed his arm.
“No,” he said. “Don’t. It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I don’t want to…I can deal with it, I just need a little…help.”
“I’m not a medical professional,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I don’t know – I don’t think I should–”
“Xingchen, if you call an ambulance I’m leaving,” Xue Yang interrupted. “I will, I swear.”
“Xue Yang,” Xiao Xingchen said, trying to sound reasonable and not on the verge of panic. “You’re – you’re bleeding a lot.”
Xue Yang shook his head emphatically, starting to look a little wild-eyed. “No, Xingchen, I’m serious,” he said urgently. “Look, I’m not exactly – it’s not like somebody just mugged me when I was walking around minding my own business.” What were you doing, Xiao Xingchen thought, and knew he wouldn’t ask, the words catching in his throat. “I’m not saying – hospitals ask questions and I could get in trouble, get – people get arrested at hospitals, okay, that’s all I’m gonna say.” Xiao Xingchen pictured, involuntarily, Xue Yang handcuffed to a bed. His stomach plunged but he closed his mouth. “Okay,” Xue Yang said. “I need to…sit down.”
It looked less like Xue Yang sat and more like his knees buckled, his shoulder knocking loudly against the counter, his eyelids fluttering. The sound made Xiao Xingchen wince.
“What happened,” he asked breathlessly, kneeling down. “Where are you hurt?”
Xue Yang bit his lip, released it, and inhaled. “Fucking…hang on. Maybe – kitchen. There’s not much room in here.” He let go of Xiao Xingchen’s wrist and grabbed onto the counter instead, trying to haul himself back up to his feet. There was blood on Xiao Xingchen’s skin where his fingers had been.
“Let me help you,” Xiao Xingchen said. To his relief Xue Yang let him help him up, breathing hard and leaning what felt like most of his weight on Xiao Xingchen. His knuckles were white where his hand was gripping the counter.
“You’re gonna want to put down a towel,” Xue Yang said. “Bloodstains are a bitch to get out of wood floors. And maybe change into some clothes you don’t care about.”
Xiao Xingchen put down two towels, one on top of the other. He didn’t change his clothes, though, returning immediately to help Xue Yang out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, lowering him carefully down to the floor. Xiao Xingchen knelt next to him, trying to take deep breaths. The fact that the smell of blood was – very strong was making it somewhat less helpful in calming himself.
“Okay,” Xue Yang said, breathing hard like he’d been running for miles. His eyelids fluttered and he forced them open with what looked like an effort. “Okay. I guess – fuck. He cut into my side but didn’t get anything…just skin and muscle. It’s…brace yourself, okay? It’s nasty.”
Xiao Xingchen nodded wordlessly. Xue Yang licked his lips and exhaled slowly.
The towel came away from Xue Yang’s skin with a wet sound. For a moment Xiao Xingchen struggled to process what he was looking at other than the dizzying fact of blood everywhere before he managed to parse out the actual wound: a gash scored across Xue Yang’s ribs, several inches long, glistening with blood and gaping like a mouth. It looked deep. It wasn’t – gushing, or anything, but he could see fresh blood slowly filling up the open space.
For a moment Xiao Xingchen thought he was going to faint. He heard himself make a small, pathetic noise, but he couldn’t look away.
“Xingchen,” Xue Yang said, sounding far away. “Xingchen, listen to me, don’t freak out.”
How was he supposed to not freak out?
“Listen,” Xue Yang was saying. “I need you to get some – do you have any rubbing alcohol? Something like that, something to clean it out with. And, and – gauze, tape. If you have those strip things – your first aid kit doesn’t have a needle, does it?” He sounded out of breath. Xiao Xingchen tried to pull himself back together.
“I don’t know,” he said, his mouth sort of numb.
“Check,” Xue Yang said. “But, uh. Start with the alcohol and some water. Maybe some for. For me, too.” He laughed, sort of, though it sounded more like hyperventilation.
“Okay,” Xiao Xingchen said, and made himself stand up and stumble over to the medicine cabinet, looking through it. There were vitamins and band-aids and an extra tube of toothpaste, witch hazel…he finally found a bottle of isopropyl alcohol under the sink and brought it back over along with a fresh towel and a glass of water. He dropped both when he saw that Xue Yang’s eyes were closed, his head slumped to one side.
“Xue Yang,” he said, reaching out to pat his face gently. “I’m back, wake up.” Xue Yang’s eyelids fluttered and Xiao Xingchen leaned toward him, heart hammering. “Xue Yang–”
“Wha,” Xue Yang said, eyes blinking open. Xiao Xingchen almost choked on his relief.
“I need you to tell me what to do,” he said hoarsely. “And – stay awake. Please?”
Xue Yang licked his lips. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, first off you need to – check if there’s any glass left in the wound. A bit broke off and I don’t know if…anyway.”
“Glass?” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice pitching up, and then shook himself and leaned forward, steeling himself and studying the wound, his fingers fluttering over skin. He couldn’t see anything, but… “If the pieces are small I might not be able to see it, particularly with all the…” He glanced up at Xue Yang’s face and found his eyelids drooping again. “Xue Yang,” he said sharply. “Can you hear me? I told you to–”
“Awake,” Xue Yang said, his voice blurry. “Yeah, yeah, right. I’m – I know. So you have to try to flush it out. Start with the water.”
Xiao Xingchen swallowed hard, nausea rising again. He pushed it down and took a deep breath. He needs your help. Get it together. He picked up the water and moved his fingers to – fuck – pull the edges apart enough that when he poured the water over he could feel reasonably sure that he was giving a good rinse. Xue Yang shuddered violently and panted a couple times.
“Now the alcohol,” he said. “Just — pour it over, or put some on a paper towel, or…just make sure you’re thorough, I really don’t — don’t want to get an infection out of this. Don’t suppose you brought any…good stuff?”
Xiao Xingchen bit the inside of his cheek and decided it was better safe than sorry; he splashed a good quarter of the bottle onto Xue Yang’s wound.
Xue Yang clapped a hand over his mouth that barely muffled his howl. “I’m sorry,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I’m sorry,” trying to wipe some of the extra blood away with the fresh towel even if the last thing he really wanted was to see the damage better.
Xue Yang was shaking. Xiao Xingchen drew back. “Xue Yang — you’re shaking.”
“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said through his teeth. “I’m just a little cold, don’t…fuck. I think I bled more than I thought.” Xiao Xingchen’s stomach rolled.
“I think I should call someone,” he said. “Someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
“No,” Xue Yang said. “If you — if you can’t handle it then give me the, the shit and I’ll…” he trailed off, his eyes rolling up to show the whites and then jerking back open. Xiao Xingchen’s heart was pounding in his stomach and his throat at the same time.
“No,” he said. “No, don’t — just tell me what to do,” he said again, desperately, telling himself that even if he called somebody while he was waiting for them to come he would still need to do something.
“Thank you,” Xue Yang said, and he sounded genuinely grateful. “I don’t want…fuck, hard to focus.” He inhaled and let it out slowly. Xiao Xingchen reached out and squeezed one of his hands like he could provide some kind of anchor.
“Try,” he said desperately. “The bleeding…I need to stop the bleeding, right? What’s the best way to do that?”
“Right, yeah. Line up the edges,” Xue Yang said, words slurring like he was drunk. “And use the strips to…hold them together. Then gauze. Then…use the tape. Wrap it so the…pressure’s better.”
“Then what,” Xiao Xingchen said. Xue Yang’s head lolled, his eyes glazed even if they were still slightly open. “Xue Yang,” he said. “Then what?”
“Tired,” Xue Yang murmured. “I need to…rest.”
“Xue Yang,” Xiao Xingchen said, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a gentle shake. “Please, I need you to—” He finally broke and started crying. “—I need you to tell me what to do. I can’t — please, stay awake, talk to me.”
Xue Yang took a couple shallow breaths. “You’re doing fine,” he said. “Just. Like I said. Strips. Gauze. Tape.”
He could just call for help. Professional help, people who would actually know what they were doing, who would…
At this point the time it’d take them to get here — Xue Yang would be so angry. (Better angry than dead.)
He picked up the box of surgical strips and tried to sort of — pinch the edges of the gash together, his hands slippery with blood he couldn’t smell anymore. Xue Yang groaned faintly and Xiao Xingchen flinched but gritted his teeth and kept working, wiping away the blood so there was clean skin where he could fix both ends, closing the fissure in Xue Yang’s flesh one bandage at a time. Gauze, packed over his work in several layers, and then tape holding it down. He wanted to wind it around Xue Yang’s body but he was impeded by the limp, heavy weight of him, barely conscious. He looked pale and his skin felt colder than it should.
“I’m worried about how much blood you’ve lost,” Xiao Xingchen said. Xue Yang hummed.
“It’ll be. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know,” Xiao Xingchen said. His hands were covered in blood, his clothes spattered with it, he was sure there was some on his face where he’d touched himself without thinking.
“Just need to rest,” Xue Yang sighed. Xiao Xingchen’s heart was in his throat and racing, tears dripping down his face, overwhelmed and afraid and nauseated and he kept thinking he could die, he could die right here on your floor—
“I can’t,” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice breaking. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”
Xue Yang didn’t answer. Xiao Xingchen’s hands shook pulling out his phone and dialing, his eyes fixed on Xue Yang and struggling to breathe.
“I need help,” he managed to say when the operator picked up. “Please.”
Just in time, the doctor said, and why did you wait so long, a few more minutes and it might have been too late. Xiao Xingchen felt sick and stupid and like he was going to start crying again, and just managed not to.
When he finally got to see Xue Yang again he still looked pale and weak but there was a little more color in his face and he was breathing evenly. Xiao Xingchen stumbled over and sat, exhausted and trying to brace himself already for Xue Yang’s anger when he woke up.
He wouldn’t regret it. No matter what Xue Yang said, the alternative…
He never should have agreed to hold off in the first place.
He didn’t even know what had happened. The hospital staff asked and he had to shake his head and say I don’t know, he came home like this.
Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t know. Then he didn’t have to try (and fail) to lie. Because he had no doubt that however Xue Yang had sustained his injury, it was likely to get him in trouble. Which made Xiao Xingchen’s stomach ache differently, but thankfully nobody pressed very much, and nobody called the cops.
He’s going to be fine, he kept reminding himself, but it was hard in the face of the answering murmur that said this time.
Xue Yang woke up groggy and out of it, but he certainly looked healthier, his skin a more normal color. He was also…less unhappy with Xiao Xingchen than he’d feared.
“I’m sorry,” he said, while Xue Yang was putting on the fresh clothes he’d brought him, since the ones he’d come in were wrecked. “I know you said…but you kept passing out and then you stopped answering me, and there was so much blood everywhere…”
Xue Yang paused in trying to put on his shirt without moving in a way that would pull at his fresh stitches. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I know. I…” he exhaled, tugged the shirt the rest of the way on, and turned to face him. “I honestly didn’t think it was that bad. I hear I’ve got to thank you for saving my idiot life, huh?” His smile was crooked and wry and Xiao Xingchen wasn’t sure he trusted it.
“I still did the one thing you asked me not to do,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Whether or not I was right, I can understand if you’re…upset.”
Xue Yang ran his fingers through his hair and then winced. “Fuck,” he muttered. “This is going to suck.” Louder, he said, “I shouldn’t’ve brought it to you.”
Xiao Xingchen’s eyes widened. “What?” he said. “That’s what — that’s what you’re taking away from this?”
“It was a lot to expect you to just…I wasn’t thinking,” Xue Yang said, apparently without hearing him. “I get that, I should’ve just gone to somebody else.”
“Like who?” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice rising. He imagined, unwillingly, Xue Yang stumbling through the streets, collapsing on the sidewalk somewhere, dying unnoticed in the dark, alone, and wanted to be sick.
“There’s somebody I used to see,” Xue Yang said. “Knows some medical stuff—”
“No, stop, listen to me,” Xiao Xingchen said.
“—so if this happens again I’ll just take care of it before seeing you,” Xue Yang said, like that was a solution, like that was Xiao Xingchen’s problem, like he was upset because he’d had to deal with his boyfriend bleeding all over his apartment, which, yes, he was, but anyone would be and he didn’t want that to mean that Xue Yang would just—
“If that was an option why didn’t you go there,” Xiao Xingchen said. Xue Yang must be out of it still, because usually he would recognize the anger in his voice. Just now, he didn’t seem to.
“It was further away,” Xue Yang said. “And we haven’t exactly always been friends so, you know, trust’s a little thin but money goes a long ways—”
“Listen to me,” Xiao Xingchen interrupted, his voice tight and cold. “This won’t happen again, because you will find a way to not be in situations where it’s likely to – don’t argue with me, I’m not finished.” Xue Yang shut his mouth, though he was starting to look mutinous. “And if — if — something does happen, you’re not going to go limping to some seedy underground doctor alone, you’re going to call me and I’m going to help you, and if that means going with you to a seedy underground doctor then fine, but you’ll go somewhere with someone who knows what they’re doing more than I do, and you won’t go by yourself.”
Xue Yang still looked mutinous, but now he was staring at Xiao Xingchen looking a little taken aback. Xiao Xingchen’s nose burned.
“I thought you were going to die,” he said. “I worry every time you’re gone longer than you say you’re going to be, or don’t text me back for a while, and when something like this happens you can’t say I shouldn’t.”
Xue Yang shook himself. “Xingchen,” he said. He shook his head hard.
“I just want,” he said, “for you to be safe.”
Xue Yang’s face did something complicated. “I’m not,” he said after a moment. “I can’t be. Not really, not the way you want. Even if I – quit my job completely there’d still be danger, potentially. I’m not…” he shifted. Xiao Xingchen bit his lip.
“It could be better,” he said. “And even if – even if it’s not much, even if you can’t avoid being – hurt, at least let me help. Don’t let me wonder if you’re going to bleed to death somewhere without me ever knowing.”
Xue Yang stayed silent. Xiao Xingchen took a deep, steadying breath.
“Okay,” Xue Yang said at length, his voice quiet. “I’ll…okay. I’ll see what I can do.” He plastered on a smile that made Xiao Xingchen’s chest hurt. “Just curious. What’s the ‘or else’ in there?”
“Just that it’d hurt me,” Xiao Xingchen said. He knew he was using what felt like his own advantage – that Xue Yang was clearly more concerned with his physical safety than his own. He thought it was worth it. And it wasn’t a lie.
“Xingchen,” Xue Yang said, and then stopped. He glanced away.
“Come on,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “Let’s get out of here. I guess I probably owe you some help cleaning your apartment, huh?”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Xiao Xingchen said. “But it would be nice.”
Xue Yang approached him slowly, almost warily. Xiao Xingchen held out a hand and he took it.
There was, Xiao Xingchen noticed abruptly, still red staining the creases by his nails.
He folded his fingers between Xue Yang’s and turned his hand so he couldn’t see it.