Work Text:
It was all too unusual nowadays for Xiao Zhan to be able to take multiple day extended breaks, but for his birthday, he managed to beg some time off to go home and visit his parents. For the first time in years, he didn’t have to make a big deal of it with his latest filming crew or any of his staff or do an official birthday photoshoot, though he was forced to promise to take a few photos to post on social media.
Even rarer, though, was that Wang Yibo had somehow managed to talk his manager into letting him also take a day off to spend with Xiao Zhan. His scheduling had gotten incrementally less chaotic since he retired from Day Day Up. Xiao Zhan missed seeing Wang Yibo on television, but he’d trade that any day for having Wang Yibo able to come home more often and rest more and spend more time together.
So it was that early the morning of his birthday, instead of sleeping in and cuddling Jianguo some more, Xiao Zhan borrowed his dad’s car to go to the airport and pick up Wang Yibo who immediately presented him with about five shopping bags.
“I told you not to get me anything big for my birthday,” Xiao Zhan scolded as Wang Yibo shoved all the bags into the trunk.
“That’s not for you—that’s for your parents,” Wang Yibo said as he got into the passenger’s seat.
“What? You didn’t get me anything?” Xiao Zhan said.
Wang Yibo grinned. “Wow, what happened to telling me not to get you anything for your birthday because we already have everything we need,” he teased. It was true that over the years, between dozens of sponsorships and yearly 11.11 sales, they’d furnished their home more than comfortably. They each had more clothes than they knew what to do with between the brands they endorsed, and on occasion, when Xiao Zhan or Wang Yibo felt like actually doing shopping, they could splurge on the occasional obscure brand they wanted to. Wang Yibo also had the tendency to go big when he did presents—from the car Xiao Zhan drove when he was in Beijing to the ring he wore on a chain around his neck to the house they shared were all gifts Wang Yibo claimed were absolutely necessary. Xiao Zhan claimed that their family was going to go broke if Wang Yibo kept doing things like this, but it didn’t mean he didn’t like to see this little kid work to spoil him.
“I said nothing big,” Xiao Zhan corrected.
“Here,” Wang Yibo said, reaching into the back seat and rummaging to pull out a bag to hand to Xiao Zhan who took it, one hand still on the wheel. When he glanced at it, though, he threw it back at Wang Yibo and smacked him a few times on the shoulder.
“A bunny suit for Jianguo?” he demanded. “How is that a gift for me?”
“What? Pet owners love getting gifts for their pets,” Wang Yibo said. “You’re the one who told me to get that harness for Liu Yuxin’s dog.”
Early on when they’d first started filming the newest season of Street Dance, the two new captains had been told to purchase gifts for the other captains, but Han Geng and Wang Yibo hadn’t been told to reciprocate. Xiao Zhan thought it was probably the director being mindful of their busy schedules, but the Chinese in him wanted to shrivel up in shame at not having a return gifts for them, so Xiao Zhan had made Wang Yibo belatedly buy gifts for Liu Yuxin, Li Chengxuan, and Han Geng too. For Li Chengxuan and Han Geng, it was gifts for their kids as at the time, Han Geng was about to be a father so it was a gift Wang Yibo ought to send to his boss anyway. And for Liu Yuxin, Xiao Zhan just told Wang Yibo to get something for her dog.
“Jianguo’s wardrobe could be bigger than mine at this point. How many costumes does one cat need?” Xiao Zhan said.
“I could get you a bunny suit too,” Wang Yibo said.
Xiao Zhan took his eyes off the road for a second to glare at his boyfriend whose grin widened. “There were some pretty interesting costumes that came up when I was searching,” Wang Yibo said. “And going on sale for 11.11.”
Xiao Zhan bared his teeth at him.
“Ooh, look at those cute bunny teeth!” Wang Yibo said.
Xiao Zhan reached over to hit him again. “I’ll show you bunny teeth, you—”
“Wow, what a naughty bunny—”
Xiao Zhan hit him and yelled as soon as Wang Yibo reached to tweak his waist. “Don’t touch me, I’m driving!”
“You cheater—stop, Zhan-ge!” Wang Yibo yelled as Xiao Zhan pinched him.
They bickered all the way home, Xiao Zhan breathless with yelling and laughter when he finally parked. He helped Wang Yibo grab his small carry-on suitcase so his boyfriend could have his hands free to handle all the gifts he wanted to unload onto Xiao Zhan’s parents.
“Ayi, Shushu, we’re home!” Wang Yibo said as he walked in, arms loaded with bags, and Xiao Zhan immediately heard his mom’s loud exclamation of welcome.
“Yibo, you didn’t have to bring so much,” Xiao Zhan walked in to his mother scolding Wang Yibo who was happily unpacking the gifts he’d brought in the middle of the living room.
“A colleague told me this ginseng is really good for your health, so I asked him to get some for Ayi and Shushu,” Wang Yibo said, pulling out an enormous box of ginseng. “And here’s some persimmons from Shaanxi. They bought some for us on set and they’re really good.” He pulled out another enormous box of the fruit. “And here’s some clothes too—it’s starting to get colder now, so…”
Wang Yibo continued pulling stuff out of his bags to give to Xiao Zhan’s parents, making Xiao Zhan smile. From the beginning, Wang Yibo had been worried about impressing Xiao Zhan’s family, knowing that dating a man in the entertainment industry obviously weren’t his parents’ expectations for Xiao Zhan. The terror had worn off since then, but Wang Yibo still seemed to love unloading gifts onto his parents just to see them all worked up.
“Where’s my gift?” Xiao Zhan said, holding out his hands.
“Zhanzhan, be polite!” his mother scolded him.
Xiao Zhan pouted. “It’s not your birthday, mom.”
“Wow,” Wang Yibo said. “What happened to being filial?”
“Exactly,” Xiao Zhan’s mother sniffed. “Yibo’s a good kid.”
Xiao Zhan’s jaw dropped open. “You’re playing favorites, mom!” he protested.
“So spoiled, this one,” Xiao Zhan’s mom said, shaking her head and making Wang Yibo laugh.
“Ayi, I’ll help you bring these to the kitchen,” he said.
“No, no, Zhanzhan, help Yibo carry his things upstairs,” she said. “Baba, come help me bring these to the kitchen,” she ordered Xiao Zhan’s dad instead.
Wang Yibo grabbed his own suitcase, carrying it up the stairs with Xiao Zhan.
“Wait, we’re staying in the guest room, remember? Not my room,” Xiao Zhan said when Wang Yibo headed toward his childhood bedroom. While Wang Yibo usually stayed in Xiao Zhan’s bedroom if he was visiting by himself, Xiao Zhan’s room was far too small for two full grown men with his childhood twin size bed, so whenever they both visited, they used the guest room instead which had a much larger, full size bed. “Unless you want to do it in front of my Spongebob plushie.”
It was worth the risk of his parents hearing to see Wang Yibo’s whole face go up in flames because he was the one who would jump Xiao Zhan in all other circumstances except for this single one. “Zhan-ge!” he hissed. “Not at your parents’ place!”
Xiao Zhan blinked big, innocent eyes at him. “But it’s been so long,” he said. “I haven’t seen you for weeks, Bo-ge.”
It was true. Lately, they’d both been swamped with work. Though Wang Yibo no longer had to worry about Day Day Up’s weekly appearances, he was busy filming movies at the same time as Street Dance of China and fitting in a variety of photoshoots and short commercial shoots in between for his sponsorships. Xiao Zhan, meanwhile, was filming his latest drama in between his own photoshoots and commercial shoots. So although technically Wang Yibo had more time these days, sometimes, it might still be weeks before they got to see each other in person.
“You’re sick in the head,” Wang Yibo said.
“Bo-ge is so mean to me,” Xiao Zhan said. “See if I blow you lat—”
“Xiao Zhan!” Wang Yibo hissed.
Xiao Zhan burst out laughing at his scandalized expression, and yelped, trying to duck away from Wang Yibo’s hands as his boyfriend grabbed him by the wrist.
“Zhanzhan, Yibo, stop playing and get ready to eat!” his mother called just then.
“Coming, mom! Right after Yibo—” Xiao Zhan yelped as Wang Yibo dug a hand into his side where it tickled, and then legged it down the stairs two at a time to burst into the kitchen, laughing and out of breath with Wang Yibo close behind him.
“Goodness, Zhanzhan, you’re 31 years old and still acting like this,” Xiao Zhan’s mother said, shaking her head but smiling as she gestured to a few dishes on the counter to bring into the dining room.
“It’s true, Ayi, I always have to take care of Zhan-ge,” Wang Yibo said.
“Look at Yibo, so mature and well behaved,” Xiao Zhan’s mom praised.
“Hmph, he’s neglected me for three weeks, mom, and—”
“Who was ignoring who?” Wang Yibo demanded. “I text you every night when I get home from work and you don’t even respond—”
“You get off work sometimes at 4am, Yibo! Normal people are sleeping,” Xiao Zhan said.
“Excuses excuses,” Wang Yibo said, reaching for him as Xiao Zhan grabbed a plate of food, smacking his hand away.
“I’ll spill mom’s food,” Xiao Zhan said.
“Cheater!”
“Yibo is just busy,” Xiao Zhan’s mother said. “Goodness, with his movies and that street dance show, it’s a wonder our Yibo has any time to sleep. 4am? You should tell those directors that actors need to sleep too.”
“Mom, it doesn’t work that way,” Xiao Zhan said.
“Why not? They’re the ones who want you two on their shows,” Xiao Zhan’s mom said indignantly.
“Everyone works hard,” Xiao Zhan said.
“Yeah, especially me providing for my Zhan-ge,” Wang Yibo said, scooping up Jianguo who had the misfortune of walking in his way. “Princess Jianguo knows, don’t you, girl?”
“Who’s providing for who?” Xiao Zhan said.
“Name one piece of clothes you’re wearing right now that I didn’t buy,” Wang Yibo said and smirked.
Xiao Zhan looked down at himself. He was wearing just an ordinary T-shirt, and a loose sweatshirt and cargo pants—all of which did, indeed, belong to Wang Yibo first. “Shut up,” he said.
Wang Yibo cackled but Jianguo, the only loyal one, batted at his face until he was forced to let her down and she trotted over to Xiao Zhan for petting. “Hah! She agrees with me!” Xiao Zhan said.
“Stop bickering, you two, and sit down,” Xiao Zhan’s mother scolded.
Of course for all that Xiao Zhan complained, for his birthday, his mother had made all his favorite dishes. With Jianguo curled up in his lap, his dad asking Wang Yibo about working with Tony Leung, and his mother telling all of them to eat more, Xiao Zhan was happy just to have his family surrounding him and no one he needed to charm or impress. This was comfortable and home for him, especially with the increased frequency of visits that Wang Yibo had been able to make this past year with his slightly more relaxed schedule.
After lunch, his parents excused themselves to take a nap as was their habit nowadays, while Wang Yibo volunteered to do the dishes by himself since it was Xiao Zhan’s birthday. It left Xiao Zhan to wrangle Jianguo into her new bunny costume as he watched Wang Yibo wash the dishes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the picture of husbandly domesticity like he was just any ordinary person and not one of the most sought after young celebrities in China.
“So where’s my present?” Xiao Zhan asked, grinning as he tried to get Jianguo to hold still for some photos.
Wang Yibo, heartless, reached into the box of persimmons and tossed him one, forcing him to juggle to catch it and nearly dropping an extremely offended Jianguo who jumped off his lap and padded over to twine around Wang Yibo’s legs.
“Mean,” Xiao Zhan said to the both of them.
“Aww, look who your daughter likes more now,” Wang Yibo said and then made the mistake of trying to pet her with a wet hand so that she looked even more offended and trotted away.
“Hah!” Xiao Zhan said. “That’s what you get for not giving me a present.”s
Wang Yibo sighed, turning back to the dishes. “There’s technically ginseng for you too for your old age—”
Xiao Zhan scooted his chair forward just so he could kick Wang Yibo which quickly devolved into a soapy fight with Wang Yibo flicking water at him while Xiao Zhan yelled. “Shh, be quiet or you’ll wake your parents,” Wang Yibo scolded.
“Suck up,” Xiao Zhan said.
“As though you aren’t the perfect daughter-in-law when you come to my house,” Wang Yibo said.
“Who’s a daughter-in-law?” Xiao Zhan demanded.
“That’s because you won’t go to Europe with me to get married,” Wang Yibo said.
“We’re still in lockdown all the time and do you know what would happen to our careers if people found out we did that?” Xiao Zhan demanded.
“Pretty sure a whole lot of people would say ‘I told you so,’” Wang Yibo said and grinned.
Xiao Zhan rolled his eyes. “Anyway, how long can you stay?” he asked. He himself had nearly a full week off, but Wang Yibo wouldn’t be so lucky.
“My flight’s supposed to be tomorrow, but I might see if I can push the flight to the morning after,” Wang Yibo said. “As long as I can still get to Shanghai on time for filming, it should be okay.”
“Don’t push yourself too much if you’ll be tired,” Xiao Zhan said. “It’s Street Dance filming this time, right? Those go on for so long.”
“That’s all the filming we both do,” Wang Yibo said, turning to grin at him. “Anyway Wang Chenchen is pretty good about letting me take the time I need.”
Xiao Zhan grinned back, rolling his eyes. “He has such a guy crush on you,” he said.
“Jealous?” Wang Yibo said.
Xiao Zhan snorted. “Please. How many times has he tried to ask you to get me on the show?”
It was nice, though, that after three years, Wang Yibo had earned the respect and endearment of the crew. Of course, he had almost single handedly propelled Street Dance of China into one of the most popular variety shows on broadcast so that suddenly their budget tripled and more and more people wanted to learn street dance—some just to get on the show. Xiao Zhan personally thought it was very cute that by now, the majority of young competitors wanted to be on Wang Yibo’s team. It had also, apparently, put the crew in something of a bind when they were discussing the format of this season. Non-negotiable was that they wanted, at all costs, to get Wang Yibo to return to the show. But Wang Yibo’s popularity now meant that while his fans always wanted him to win, if the same team won so many years in a row, those who were fans of the other captains most definitely wouldn’t be happy about it.
Apparently, Wang Chenchen’s solution was simply to make all the “team captains” into judges instead, and to have the new set of competitors form their own teams. With Han Geng’s support and Wang Chenchen’s friendship, Wang Yibo was treated like a veteran and half a director himself—sometimes to the point that Xiao Zhan thought that their favoritism was a little too obvious. But the fans were happy, and Wang Yibo was still having plenty of fun, so Xiao Zhan was happy too.
“Can you imagine the viewership if you came on?” Wang Yibo said as he finished rinsing the last dish and shut off the water. “When Da-laoshi came, people were already going crazy. If you came, pretty sure this would be the most popular variety show in China.”
“Isn’t it already?” Xiao Zhan said.
“Record-breakingly popular,” Wang Yibo said, grinning as he wiped his hands and leaned over Xiao Zhan, putting his hands on his arm rests and leaning in. “It’s been years since we’ve been on a show together, Zhan-ge.”
“For good reason if you want us to be able to continue dating,” Xiao Zhan said, grinning back as Wang Yibo leaned in to kiss him for the first time that day. His lips were soft and tasted a little of the persimmons they’d eaten after lunch, sweet and tangy.
Xiao Zhan sighed, ready to allow Wang Yibo to deepen the kiss, only to have Wang Yibo whisper against his mouth, “I can’t believe I’m doing this in your parents’ house. You’re such a bad influence.”
“Who’s the bad influence,” Xiao Zhan said, smiling as he opened his eyes. “Let’s go to the room.”
Since Xiao Zhan’s parents were a bit older now, they’d moved to live downstairs, swapping out their original master bedroom with the guest room and keeping Xiao Zhan’s childhood bedroom the way it was for when he visited. It meant that the entire upper floor was theirs and there was, in theory, more privacy. But that was ruined when Wang Yibo stopped making out with him every five seconds to swear he could hear Xiao Zhan’s parents moving around downstairs.
“I’ll put some music on, happy, Mr. Paranoid?” Xiao Zhan said, rolling his eyes as he groped for his phone, pulling up QQ Music only for it to freeze on loading. Xiao Zhan closed and restarted the app a few times, but still, no music played. He groaned. “The signal up here is awful,” he complained.
“You should get your parents better WiFi,” Wang Yibo said. “Or just better phone service or something.”
“They said it’s a waste of money when we hardly ever come home and they live downstairs now anyway where the signal is fine,” Xiao Zhan said and sighed. “Oh wait, I think I might have an old CD player,” he said and went to his bedroom. Sure enough, on the dresser was a dusty old portable CD player that Xiao Zhan had been obsessed with back in the days before university when smart phones weren’t really a thing yet.
He triumphantly brought it back to the guest room, plugging it in, and was pleased to see there was even an old mixtape CD in it already.
“What is this?” Wang Yibo asked.
“You’ve seen a CD player before, you jerk,” Xiao Zhan said, shooting him a dirty look as he hit play.
The songs that started playing were instantly nostalgic.
Wang Yibo laughed so hard he fell back on the bed. “Justin Timberlake? You wanna bring sexyback?”
“Shut up, Wang Yibo!” Xiao Zhan said, skipping ahead to the next song, which threw Wang Yibo into fresh hysterics.
“Oh I know this song too!” he said, jumping up from the bed, starting to bop to the music and humming. “And I’m so sick of love songs, so tired of tears, so done with wishing you were still here,” he serenaded Xiao Zhan in slightly accented English which was both extremely hot and made Xiao Zhan lunge for the pillow to hit him. He shoved all the pillows on the bed behind himself. “What is this playlist? Cheesy American 2000s songs?”
“Yah, gaesaekki, has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” Xiao Zhan said, blushing and trying to grab the pillow again because that was exactly what it was. Back when he was just a teenager whose plan was to major in graphic design and open his own studio, he’d always have music on in the background as he did his homework at night, singing along and dreaming what it would be like to be a star.
Since Wang Yibo wouldn’t let him have a pillow, Xiao Zhan began skipping tracks until he finally found a song that Wang Yibo didn’t appear to recognize and therefore didn’t make fun of him for. “Satisfied?” Xiao Zhan said.
“Still mad, Zhan-ge?” Wang Yibo said, reaching over and tugging at his arms. Xiao Zhan put up a token struggle before allowing Wang Yibo to manhandle him onto the bed and then onto his lap. “Come on, Zhan-ge, it’s your birthday.” He began pressing kisses to Xiao Zhan’s face—his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth, until Xiao Zhan finally gave in and pulled Wang Yibo forward for a proper kiss.
He sighed as their lips slotted together and lost himself in the feeling. He really had missed Wang Yibo, he thought. Xiao Zhan still didn’t know how fate had allowed him to meet someone he liked so much and still did four years later. He pressed in a little closer, feeling Wang Yibo’s big hand creep beneath his shirt to trail on his waist and then dip into the band of his sweatpants, making Xiao Zhan jerk a little against him. But just as it was getting hot, he felt Wang Yibo’s hand pause.
“What?” Xiao Zhan whispered, rolling his hips a little and urging Wang Yibo to continue.
Wang Yibo, though, had started silently laughing, shaking into the kiss, and when Xiao Zhan pulled back to see what he was doing, burst into full laughter. “What is this song?” Wang Yibo howled. “Making love to booty music? What kind of little pervert were you in high school?”
“Oh my god I hate you, Wang Yibo!” Xiao Zhan hit him and got up to change the song again, only to have Wang Yibo catch him by the wrists.
“No way you’re changing that,” he said, listening more intently and then, to Xiao Zhan’s horror, started humming along. “Let’s do it, do it, do it, that’s the way you like it, that’s the way I like it—”
“Wang Yibo!” Xiao Zhan struggled harder.
“No, no, you’re right. This is catchy,” Wang Yibo said. “But these lyrics—”
“Look at that ass like, ‘oh my god,’” the speakers blasted.
Wang Yibo burst out laughing again. “This is your theme song, Zhan-ge!”
Xiao Zhan smacked him again and yelped when Wang Yibo caught him and rolled him onto his back, settling between his legs. “Let go, you jerk!” he said. “You’re the worst!”
“No, I’m your boyfriend,” Wang Yibo said, grinning down at him.
“The worst boyfriend,” Xiao Zhan said. “Trash boyfriend.”
“I’m not the one trying to seduce someone in their own parents’ house,” Wang Yibo said completely unconvincingly because he was leaving a trail of kisses along Xiao Zhan’s throat. “Shameless.”
“I’m not the one trying to seduce someone to ‘Booty Music.’” Xiao Zhan struggled a little more only for Wang Yibo to flatten him with his full body weight.
Wang Yibo looked up with such a wide grin, Xiao Zhan wanted to smack him even before he opened his mouth. “No, you’re seducing me with your—”
“I’m going to hit you, Wang Yibo!”
“—booty.”
Xiao Zhan hit him and then yelped as Wang Yibo dug his hands into Xiao Zhan’s sides, tickling him that soon turned into mutual wrestling. Xiao Zhan won it after a few minutes when he sat full on Wang Yibo’s waist, victorious. “I win!” he said.
Wang Yibo grinned. “That’s only cause you’ve got an ass like oh my—ow!”
“You’re the worst, Wang Yibo!”
Xiao Zhan really did feel a little like the rebellious teenager he never was when sometime later, he and Wang Yibo snuck laughing and whispering into the shower so as not to wake his parents. Though he felt inexplicably guilty too, it was worth it to see the way Wang Yibo absolutely could not meet his parents’ eyes for the rest of the afternoon until they were on their way to their dinner reservation at a hotpot private room.
Even though he’d been giving Wang Yibo a hard time about it all day, truly, Xiao Zhan didn’t think he’d ever need presents again when he could be with his family like this, laughing together around a table, seeing the way Wang Yibo kept serving his parents tea and putting choice bits from the hotpot into his parents’ and Xiao Zhan’s bowls.
The hotpot restaurant owner was a friend of Xiao Zhan’s dad so they didn’t have to worry about their privacy. and Xiao Zhan happily stuffed himself, allowing a cheat day off his recent diet.
After that, Wang Yibo surprised him with a fancy little cake from what he said was the most popular new bakery in Chongqing and had a tiny figure of Xiao Zhan on it.
“You didn’t put yourself on it too?” Xiao Zhan asked, laughing when he saw it.
“It’s not Qixi,” Wang Yibo said, lighting up the single candle on it for him.
Xiao Zhan rolled his eyes and hit him.
“Zhanzhan, that’s dangerous,” Xiao Zhan’s mom scolded him. “What if Yibo drops the cake?”
“Yeah what if I drop the cake?” Wang Yibo echoed
“Immature.” Xiao Zhan made a face at Wang Yibo.
“Wow, who’s immature now?” Wang Yibo said but he was grinning.
Xiao Zhan’s mom shook her head, but they sang to Xiao Zhan who made the same wish he made every year—for good fortune and safety and health for all the people he loved. And then, a little more secretly and a little more selfishly, the wish he’d added ever since he met Wang Yibo—for them to please please have another good year together.
Then he opened his eyes and blew out his candle.
He’d never told Wang Yibo that wish before, but meeting his eyes across the table and seeing the way his boyfriend smiled at him, he thought maybe Wang Yibo knew anyway.
When they got home, his parents headed off to bed while Wang Yibo let Xiao Zhan snuggle up with him on the couch, Jianguo on their laps, and actually let Xiao Zhan put on a horror movie. Watching horror movies with Wang Yibo was basically a guaranteed entertainment session with how Wang Yibo hissed every time something creepy happened on screen, even though Xiao Zhan jumped harder at sudden noise or movement. Every time it happened, the one who jumped would hit the other for laughing, and it took only twenty minutes into the movie for Xiao Zhan’s parents to tell them to shut up or take it upstairs.
When they got told off for the second time, Xiao Zhan pulled Wang Yibo laughing and whispering up the stairs. “All right, time for your present,” Wang Yibo said as they got to the room.
Xiao Zhan sniffed. “I thought you said you didn’t get me anything.”
“Anything small,” Wang Yibo said.
“I told you not to spend a lot. What did you get?” Xiao Zhan scolded. “It better not be a new phone. We just got the new iPhones last year.”
Wang Yibo rolled his eyes. “It’s not, it’s not,” he said. “Also ungrateful,” he added as he dug into his bag and pulled out just an envelope to hand to him.
He opened it. “Plane tickets? Are you going somewhere?” Xiao Zhan frowned before he registered that one of them had his name on it.
“You limited me too much,” Wang Yibo said with a shrug but he looked pleased with himself as he sat down on the bed. “Couldn’t think of what else to buy you this year.”
“Is it my fault you never stop buying things?” Xiao Zhan said. “And we don’t have any more vacations scheduled until next year.” At least not anything long. He and Wang Yibo tried to sync as many of their days off as they could, but that usually meant a day or two at a time. With all the award shows and festivals going on at the end of the year, it was always a busy season for celebrities. “Did you already buy these for Chinese New Year’s? We didn’t discuss if we’re going to your parents’ place or mine yet.”
“Take a closer look,” Wang Yibo said. “Pretty sure Paris isn’t in China.”
“Paris—”
Xiao Zhan looked to the destination on the tickets and sure enough, they were booked from Beijing International to Charles de Gaulle. “Wang Yibo, we’re in lockdown,” he said slowly. “Are you sick in the head?”
“They’re flexible tickets,” Wang Yibo said and grinned at him. “You said you wanted to see the Musee d’Orsay. When the pandemic is better and we can travel out of country, we can go,” he said.
“Flexible tickets—just how much did you spend on these?” Xiao Zhan said. “You are sick in the head!”
“Is it my fault you’re spoiled? You already have the ring even if you won’t wear it properly,” Wang Yibo said.
“How is having it around my neck not proper?” Xiao Zhan said but it wasn’t quite as stern as he wanted it to sound.
“Bought you a house already,” Wang Yibo continued listing things off. “And I even let you do most of the decorating. So next is…Zhan-ge, you’re not really mad, are you?” he said when Xiao Zhan didn’t answer. “I heard they have a lot of Van Goghs there. Your favorite, right?”
“You shouldn’t have spent so much,” Xiao Zhan said slowly. “If you wanted to go—”
“Take you,” Wang Yibo corrected.
“We could have just booked them whenever the country opened up again and we had time in our schedules,” Xiao Zhan said, voice a little more firm now. “Who knows when we’ll be able to go. It probably won’t even be in this next year.”
“Doesn’t matter how long it takes,” Wang Yibo said, reaching to take Xiao Zhan by the wrist and drew him in close to stand between his legs. “They’re already booked. We can go anytime you want. You want to, right?” he asked when Xiao Zhan didn’t answer right away.
In the past year, a lot of things had changed. Their names were linked together less often than before now, while their private lives had settled into simple domesticity. It was what they’d discussed wanting when their careers were stable, and they’d finally achieved that—going from rookies to household names. Now they could slow down a little more, spend more time in their own home, visit their family and friends, act like a normal couple. Now, things weren’t so new and exciting and a constant rollercoaster between their careers and lawsuits and rumors and seeing each other so rarely that every moment together was a shot of endorphins and adrenaline anymore. And in occasional moments of introspection, Xiao Zhan couldn’t help but sometimes wonder if this domestic bliss was all going to last no matter how much he hoped Wang Yibo would never tire of him, and he would never tire of Wang Yibo.
“What if it takes years,” Xiao Zhan said.
“Pretty sure the Van Goghs will still be there for us to see,” Wang Yibo said, relaxing into a smile.
“Decades?” Xiao Zhan asked.
Wang Yibo rolled his eyes. “I doubt the lockdown is going to take decades, Zhan-ge,” he said.
“What if it does?” Xiao Zhan, knowing he was sounding immature and stubborn, but Wang Yibo had always been the one who let him be as spoiled as he wanted. He swallowed hard and hoped Wang Yibo hadn’t noticed his voice wobbling.
But of course he did, and handled it in the way Wang Yibo always did best. “Even if it took centuries—” he said.
Xiao Zhan snorted, a little wetter than he wanted, maybe, but Wang Yibo didn’t comment. “Exactly how old do you think we’ll live?” He went along with the joke.
“However long it takes, Zhan-ge, I’ll take you on a honeymoon,” Wang Yibo said easily.
“Honeymoon?” Xiao Zhan looked down at him. “We’re not married.”
“Ring. House. Daughter,” Wang Yibo listed off.
“Cat,” Xiao Zhan corrected.
“I’m going to tell Jianguo you deny being her father,” Wang Yibo said. “Then I’ll be her favorite.” His grin softened into a smile as he tugged Xiao Zhan down onto his lap for a kiss. “I mean it, Zhan-ge. Until I’m 81.”
“That’s not centuries,” Xiao Zhan mumbled, hiding his red face in Wang Yibo’s neck.
He felt Wang Yibo laugh. “181 then. I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere either, okay?”
Xiao Zhan bit his lip and nodded.
“Happy Birthday, Xiao Zhan,” Wang Yibo said. “Now cheer up and let’s put on that mixtape again.”
Ever the mood ruiner, Wang Yibo unceremoniously dumped Xiao Zhan off his lap and onto the bed and got up to go to the CD player.
“Makin’ love to booty music,” Wang Yibo began to sing as he powered on the player and began skipping tracks.
“Wow, you’re really going to find that song?” Xiao Zhan said dryly as he lay in place and watched him.
“When the beat goin’... boom boom,” Wang Yibo mumble-sang along to the lyrics he wasn’t really familiar with and began dancing, bouncing along and freestyling to the music until he reached the bed again and held out his hand.
“I hate you,” Xiao Zhan said but took it anyway, letting Wang Yibo pull him up from the bed to dance with him.
“No you don’t cause…” Wang Yibo paused, waiting for the lyrics to sing along, looking far too proud of himself. “That’s the way I like it, that’s the way you like it, that’s the way we like it, makin’ love to booty music,” he sang. “Go Zhan-ge, it’s your birthday, makin’ love to booty music.”