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“How bad can it be?” Hei Xiazi asks carelessly, waltzing down the hall at a snail’s pace. “A few minutes late is a few minutes late. It’s not like I’m faking my death and disappearing for months before sending him a postcard about goats this time.”
Behind him, the patient assistant’s left eye twitched.
“Besides.” Hei Xiazi continued. “Hua-ye loves me.” He spoke in a sarcastic tone, poking fun at both the title and the sentiment.
The poor man behind him began counting down his hours on the job.
Despite his careless words, Hei Xiazi looked forward to seeing Xie Yuchen again. It wasn’t often that he got to see the man outside old tombs, zombies, caves, traps and other meddlesome situations. It would be nice to talk knowing the floor wasn’t going to give in, the walls wouldn’t start spitting arrows and rations weren’t running out.
Although, knowing Xiao Hua; arrows, death threats, and other bodily harm still wasn’t out of the question. He had a truly prickly personality that was altogether too fun to irritate.
The overall situation put Hei Xiazi in such a good mood that he quickened his pace (much to the relief of the man leading him), whistling a tune, hands in his pockets.
“You don’t know Master Xie well, do you?” The assistant asked quietly. He was a young man of 20, with perfectly starched and ironed clothes, an opportunistic but gossipy mind; an overall pleasant disposition.
Xiazi's assessment of him took less than a second. “What makes you say so, lad?”
“Well..” He bit his lip, worried he was overstepping.
“I’ll double my pace if you talk.” Hei Xiazi bargained, knowing the man was already time-conscious. He would have to be, working for a perfectionist like Xiao Hua.
“Master Xie is very precise and detail-oriented.”
Xiazi smirked.
“People underestimate him because he’s very kind and very young. In truth, he’s very efficient, but most of his business is kept down low and not announced publicly.” The youth spoke more and more confidently, glancing back to see if the black-clad guest was paying attention.
He was. Despite the sunglasses that covered his eyes, the assistant could feel his gaze drilling into him.
“He seems forgiving, but…” The man shuddered. Hei Xiazi winced in sympathy, having been on the receiving end of some of those mild ‘mercies’. “I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”
Hei Xiazi smiled this time, recalling a certain little situation involving a man named Mop, a plan to rebel, a stupid threat against him, and Mop’s face french-kissing dirt mere seconds later, a spotless white boot on Mop’s back.
“Master Xie is very kind to a lot of people, but he respects only a few.”
Sounded about right.
“And cares for even less. No offense, sir but…” The unspoken ‘i don’t think you make that list’ was clear.
Xiazi just smiled. “Who would you say he cares for, then?”
The answer came readily. “The young miss of the Huo family, the heir of the Wu family,”
“XiuXiu and WuXie.” Xiazi nodded.
“And his uncle.”
“His uncle’s dead.”
“Most of the Xie family is dead.”
“Touche.”
Seeing the assistant hesitate, Hei Xiazi raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”
It wasn’t. “His adopted brother, his personal assistant, and…”
“And?”
“There’s someone , but…”
“But?”
“We don’t know. He’s been different since he came back from a certain trip, like he met someone, but…” He suddenly seemed to realize he said too much. “Forget I said anything.”
Hei Xiazi had no intention of doing any such thing. He smirked the rest of the way.
._.
“Hua-ye.” Hei Xiazi spread his arms wide, as if he was going in for a bear hug.
“You’re late.” Xiao Hua complained primly.
Xiazi just smiled more, sensing the relief pouring off the other man in waves. ‘You’re late’, without any additional reprimands was so rare, he was going to treasure it, keeping the sentiment hidden behind the complaint close to his heart. “You’d have a heart attack if I show up on time.”
“Probably.” Xiao Hua admitted, not quite pouting. He looked good – dressed in his signature pristine white, his back to his guest, favoring instead to glare at the city of Beijing as if it personally offended him.
Despite not seeing him for some time, Hei Xiazi found out with delight that Xiao Hua was still just as easy to read.
The arms folded over his chest, the stiff posture, refusal to look at him – ah. Xiao Hua had been worried.
Hei Xiazi took careful steps in his host’s direction. “Did you think I was gonna stand you up?” He whispers in the perfect man’s ear.
Xiao Hua freezes, stiffening up even more. “No.” He grits out. “Just you try .”
Hei Xiazi grinned. “Your little assistant over there seems to think you’re in love.” He quickly changes the subject. Murderous Xiao Hua was hot when he was mad at someone else. Otherwise he was terrifying.
“Does he?” Xiao Hua glances at him over his shoulder. They’re centimeters apart, so close in such a spacious room. By the door, that very same assistant watches them, straining to catch their murmured words.
“Mmh.” Hei Xiazi hums an affirmative, savoring this moment, knowing all too well that no matter how much Xiao Hua craved their closeness (which was still just a hunch – Hei Xiazi had no way of truly knowing), he was too proper to stay like this too long.
._.
“Cash, credit or debit?” Hei Xiazi's favorite words. Indulging himself a little, he amends them for Xiao Hua, counting on the man’s selective hearing.
“Cash, credit or kiss?”
He keeps this amendment, especially enjoying it in public.
Shocked workers, shop owners, business partners. It’s all too fun, especially as Xiao Hua remains oblivious, deaf to the change in the question. He always pays with an eye roll.
“I think I’m growing on you, Hua-ye.” The black blindsman teases.
“Like a particularly annoying fungus.” Xiao Hua mutters, swiping his card. He seems happier these days. Less tense. Free-er.
._.
Xiao Hua grimaces at whoever’s on the line, shooting daggers at his phone. “Yes, I’ll be right there.” He says stiltedly, forcing the words through his teeth.
A sigh escapes him as he hangs up. His tired eyes lock onto Hei Xiazi. “If I leave for a meeting, will you still be here when I come back?”
He would be, but Xiao Hua didn’t need to know that. “Depends.” He grinned, delivering his specialty. “Pay me?”
Xiao Hua snorts.
“Cash, credit, or kiss?”
The man in white rolls his eyes fondly, picking up a jacket and folding it over his arm. “Kiss.” He says, pecking him on the lips and walking out.
Hei Xiazi freezes on the spot. His lips tingle as he, like an idiot, raises a hand to his mouth in shock.
._.
“Huh. It worked.” Xiao Hua steps into the room a few hours later, draping his jacket back over a chair. “You’re still here.” He seems to be making the remark off-handedly, too tired to filter his words like usual.
Hei Xiazi shrugs from where he is perched on an armrest of the couch. “Guess your payment went through.” He cracks.
He’s rewarded by a sleepy smile.
The next time Xiao Hua steps into the room, he’s in a plain tee and loose sweatpants, hair still wet from a shower. He brings in a teapot, and brews sweet-smelling tea.
He looks younger than usual, more tired and less restricted. More vulnerable. No daggers are strapped to his hip, which should be enough of a display of trust but he had gone a step further.
No staff linger by the door at this late hour.
As Hei Xiazi processes this, Xiao Hua offers him a cup of tea.
“Not poisoned?” The immortal asks.
Xiao Hua doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes. Instead, he pours himself a cup and curls up on the couch opposite, cradling the tea to his chest, blowing on it gently. “Why did you come here?” He asks quietly, cringing slightly as if the answer could physically hurt him.
“You invited me.”
“I didn’t promise a tomb. Or money. Or a job. Or anything.” His voice shook slightly.
“I was free.” He wasn’t, but that didn’t matter.
Xiao Hua’s silence challenged his words, like he had found fault in his answer. “Fatty Wang thinks you’re planning to bankrupt me.”
Xiazi snorts inelegantly. He pretends not to hear the second, whispered part. “And I think I’d let you.” Instead, he, once again, changes the subject. “And WuXie?”
“WuXie’s…” Xiao Hua trails off. “Qiling’s been trying to court him for over a decade. WuXie couldn’t speak for anything that’s not written in ancient script on a crumbling tomb well.”
“Mute Zhang’s still around then. Huh.” Hei Xiazi sips the tea for lack of a better distraction. ‘Trying to court WuXie for over a decade .’ He has newfound respect for his fellow immortal. “Remind me to send him flowers. Poor guy.”
Xiao Hua doesn’t answer. “Now you know.” He eventually says.
“Know what?”
“I didn’t invite you for a good reason.” He seemed to be both waiting for something and dreading it. Did he think Hei Xiazi was going to leave?
“You’re a good reason.”
“What?”
“What?”
They stare at each other for a few seconds, before Xiao Hua looks away.
Hei Xiazi clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, words on the tip of his tongue–
“Good night.” Xiao Hua bids him, getting up, setting his cup down.
Xiazi watches him walk away. On a whim, he follows him.
._.
Xiao Hua doesn’t comment on his presence. He simply watches Hei Xiazi sit at the edge of his bed, his large brown eyes sorrowful. In a rare moment of tolerance, he doesn’t protest as Xiazi's hand settles in his hair.
“For such a strong individual, Young Master Hua, you are oddly fragile.”
Xiao Hua doesn’t answer, staring stubbornly at a spot somewhere past Hei Xiazi's hip.
“I can break you with less than a word, can’t I?” Hei Xiazi whispers, brushing his thumb over the younger man’s soft cheek. “You really shouldn’t let a man like me have this much of a hold over you.” He chides, as if the hold Xiao Hua has over him is any less.
“Good night, Hua-ye.” He brushes his lips over the man’s forehead, whispering the parting in a reproachful tone. He pretends he doesn’t notice the tear slipping down Xiao Hua’s cheek as he leaves, switching the lamp off on his way out.
._.
He mourns the loss as soon as he’s outside. The world does not – will not – hold two Xie Yuchens for him. He will never meet someone as equally matched to him as this boy in his stupidly white clothes.
Fuck the World. Fuck immortality.
He grits his teeth as he walks away, resolved in his decision of not coming back.
Too bad his self control was always shit.
._.
The room is quiet as he creeps back in.
Xiao Hua sleeps restlessly but deeply.
Against his better judgment, a pyjama-clad immortal slips into bed.
Xiao Hua gravitates toward him in his sleep, making himself small against Xiazi's body, tucking himself into the personal space bubble no one else had before penetrated.
The dark man sighs in defeat, drifting off into sleep. Maybe now, he can understand why Zhang Qiling has followed Wuxie for so long. Some pulls you just weren’t meant to resist.
._.