Work Text:
Jiang Cheng moves the sofa a few inches to the left and stands back to examine his work. He moves it back to its original position, then to the left, then back again before he has to laugh at himself. He’s fidgeting. He’s nervous, and it’s ridiculous.
But he is, and now that he’s admitted it, the butterflies that had been sluggishly sitting in his belly have roused into a flurry of movement. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a few deep breaths. He considers calling his sister for a pep talk, but the fact that he needs a pep talk, that he’s reaching out to get one, will both make her proud of his progress and worried for him because she’s his jiejie and she’s always low-key worried but a phone call will bring that worry to the front of her mind, and—
And he’s spiraling. Which means he needs to move.
He glances out the large windows that look down to the beach but the winter storm, while less intense than the night before, still lashes the coast, and Jiang Cheng has no desire to catch a cold. He has plans.
Right. Movement.
He checks the bedroom first. He switches on the paper lantern Huaisang and Xuanyu sent in their housewarming box, and the soft yellow light that filters through the patterned paper creates a warm and welcoming glow. The new bedding he purchased the week before is soft and inviting and he’s tempted to flop down and take a nap, but he knows that he won’t actually sleep. Plus, he knows he’ll end up there soon enough.
Oh. Snacks! He hasn’t put together anything to eat yet. He glances at the clock on his dresser. He’s got another hour to kill, so he heads to the kitchen, switches the vintage radio on and tunes into a channel that plays classical music, and sets to work slicing fruit, cheese, and meat. Despite Huaisang’s influence, Jiang Cheng hasn’t gotten on board with the whole charcuterie board trend, but he does enjoy having little bowls of snacks available. It reminds him of the game nights he used to have with his siblings, before everything went — well, before everything. He peels mandarins, sneaking a few segments as he works. The crisp citrus scent grounds him.
Snacks prepared, Jiang Cheng cleans the kitchen and decamps to the living room with a cup of tea. He’s proud of the home that he’s made here, and he’s eager to properly share it for the first time. It’s been — It’s been too long and he’s been lonely and even though he needed the time and needed the space, he’s so fucking happy that —
A knock on the door shakes him from his thoughts. He deposits his teacup in the kitchen on his way to the door. He opens it, and his heart swells with such affection that it nearly knocks him off his feet.
“Mingjue.”
“Hey.” Mingjue stands awkwardly on the small porch. He has a proper suitcase with him.
Everything Jiang Cheng had planned to say leaves his head. He grabs the lapels of Mingjue’s jacket and pulls him in for a kiss. Mingjue’s hands go to his waist and Jiang Cheng loses himself to the relief that Mingjue is here. That he came, just like he said he would, and that he clearly — clearly — wants Jiang Cheng as much as Jiang Cheng wants him.
Jiang Cheng breaks the kiss but doesn’t let go of Mingjue.
“Hi,” he says. “I have food. Or we could watch a movie, or —“
Mingjue kisses him.
“Later,” Mingjue says when they part. “Yes to all of that, to whatever you have planned, but later. May I come inside? May I—“
Jiang Cheng pulls him inside, leaving the suitcase at the door as Mingjue takes off his shoes. He takes Mingjue’s hand and leads him to the bedroom, and Jiang Cheng’s world shrinks to the bed, to Mingjue’s hands and lips on his skin, to the slowly-healing rift between them, still so delicate and raw and held with care.
But for now, they are safe and the love they share is enough.