Work Text:
Cheng Xiaoshi was quite used to having nightmares, after all, he’d been having them all his life.
When he was a child, the faces that haunted his dreams were those of his parents dying in all sorts of horrific accidents, never to return to his side again, though worse still were the ones in which they simply walked away of their own volition. Nowadays, however, the faces he saw in his nightmares were a bit more varied. His parents still paid him a visit sometimes, but they were faded, mostly indistinct, no longer able to squeeze the breath from his lungs and make him wake up crying the same way he had when he was a kid. What he saw more often these last few years was the faces of those he failed: a scared young woman falling to her death, a loving mother crushed underneath a pile of rubble, his best friend getting stabbed before his very eyes, to name a few.
He didn’t always have nightmares, of course, mostly just when he was feeling especially upset or restless, or when the events were still too fresh in his mind.
Cheng Xiaoshi knew how to deal with his own nightmares, but he had no experience in dealing with anyone else's.
Even though Lu Guang had been dismissed from the hospital earlier than him, he still insisted on staying by his side until the doctors deemed he was well enough to leave. Cheng Xiaoshi had outwardly chided him for being such a worrywart, but actually hadn’t minded at all, in fact, he’d been relieved. He had nearly lost Lu Guang so many times in such a short amount of time that just being able to look up from his bed and see him there, safe and sound, was enough to calm his still-frayed nerves and ease the tension on his shoulders just a little.
When they finally got back to the studio he was glad to be back in the familiar space, so Cheng Xiaoshi tried to put his worries away and focus on the good; they were all alive, and they were all together. Still, after the welcoming party and as Qiao Ling got ready to leave for the night, he couldn’t help but give her a long heartfelt hug, and though he tried to play it off as a joke so she wouldn’t worry, he did feel like she probably needed it just as much as he did.
That being said, Cheng Xiaoshi still found himself laying awake at night, unable to sleep. Even though this time there was no beeping of medical instruments or sounds of nurses coming and going to disturb his rest, the silence itself felt deafening, so he just lay down on his bed and scrolled through his phone, trying to ignore the dull throb of the injury at his side and waiting for either sleep to take him by force or for dawn to finally arrive, whichever decided to come first. At some point he contemplated getting up to grab something to drink, but decided against it for fear of waking Lu Guang up.
It wasn’t until the time on his phone read 3 AM, just as he began feeling his eyes grow increasingly dry and heavy, that he heard the unmistakeable sound of a gasp and a mattress shifting, and looked up to see Lu Guang peeking down at him from his bunk.
“Lu Guang…?” He whispered, the sound still too loud in the silence of the night.
Lu Guang startled, clearly having expected him to be asleep, “Sorry, did I wake you?”
Cheng Xiaoshi shook his head, then frowned, “Is everything alright?”
“It’s nothing.” Lu Guang muttered, “Just a nightmare.”
“Oh.”
There was a moment of stilted silence, then Cheng Xiaoshi spoke again, “Do you want to…?” He patted the space next to him on the bed, his invitation clear.
Lu Guang hesitated, and for a moment Cheng Xiaoshi thought he was simply going to turn away, but finally he nodded and moved back into his bunk, only to emerge again as he made his way down the small metal stairs. As he climbed down, he was briefly illuminated by the moon’s silvery light, and Cheng Xiaoshi caught a glimpse of the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and the redness in his eyes. Clearly the nightmare had been worse than he was letting on.
When Lu Guang finally made it down, he sat rigidly at the edge of the bed, and Cheng Xiaoshi leaned closer, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Now it was Lu Guang’s turn to shake his head, “It was just a dream.”
“Oh.” He understood. In a weird way, sometimes it felt like saying your fears out loud made them more real than if they just stayed inside your head. “Go back to sleep, then.” He patted the empty side of the bed again, a little more insistent.
Lu Guang gave the faintest exhale before relenting and fully laying down next to him, though he was still at the very edge.
“I’m not going to kick you off or anything.” Cheng Xiaoshi smiled.
Lu Guang scooted closer, though not by much.
“You…” Cheng Xiaoshi rolled his eyes, then reached out to wrap his arms around Lu Guang before bodily dragging him closer. Halfway through the action, he noticed Lu Guang flinch, so he quickly let go and moved back a bit, though there wasn’t much space to begin with on the narrow bed.
“Sorry,” He apologised as he looked him up and down, “Did I hurt your injury?”
“No— a little.” Lu Guang looked away.
“Let me see.” Even as he spoke, Cheng Xiaoshi was already lifting the other’s shirt to get a better look at his side.
“What are you doing?” Lu Guang caught his hand, “Stop. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Cheng Xiaoshi took his hand back and lay down facing the ceiling.
Then, after another moment of silence, he asked, “Do you think it’ll leave a cool scar?”
“What?” Lu Guang turned towards him with a frown.
“Your stab wound.” He spoke matter-of-factly, trying to make light of the situation, “And my bullet wound. Wouldn’t it be cool to have matching scars? Then we could tell people how we almost died helping the police catch some bad guys, that’s kind of badass.”
Cheng Xiaoshi heard no response, though he swore he heard Lu Guang’s breath hitch, so he turned to look at him, “I’m joking, we’re not going to—” But his words died in his throat when he saw the face Lu Guang was making.
Lu Guang was fully illuminated by the cold light of the moon, so Cheng Xiaoshi could clearly see how his brows were scrunched in distress and his eyes were wide open in something akin to panic, and his mouth was half open with either unsaid words or the breaths he was struggling to take.
“H-hey, Lu Guang!” He didn’t know what else to do, so he pulled Lu Guang into an embrace, stroking his hair in soothing motions as he spoke, “It’s okay, it was just a nightmare. I’m okay.” He had the feeling that he knew what Lu Guang’s nightmare had been about.
Lu Guang didn’t respond, he just wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly, unable to let go, as if loosening his grip just a little would make him disappear; as if he were afraid that this was the dream, and whatever nightmare he’d just woken from the terrifying reality.
Cheng Xiaoshi was squeezed so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe, and he could feel the wound at his side sting painfully in protest, but he just continued stroking Lu Guang’s hair, muttering reassurances as he went. He'd never seen Lu Guang this vulnerable, usually he was the one who had to be calmed down from his outbursts of emotion, so he could only guess just how upset Lu Guang must be right now. Even the cool light of the moon made him seem more frail somehow, like he was delicately blown glass on the edge of shattering, being held together by sheer force of will alone.
He didn’t know how long they lay like that, he just knew that slowly, ever so slowly, Lu Guang loosened his grip, and eventually his breathing returned to normal, though he didn’t let go completely.
“…Sorry.” Lu Guang finally muttered, “I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s okay.” Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t blame him for freaking out, not in the slightest, “Go back to sleep, I’ll be here.”
Lu Guang looked up at him for a moment as if he were going to say something in protest, but in the end all he could reply was, “Okay. You sleep too.”
“Mhn, I will.” Cheng Xiaoshi continued slowly stroking his hair, fascinated by the way the strands shone silver in the moonlight, warm to the touch yet enveloped in a cold, almost ethereal glow.
Not long after, Lu Guang’s breathing evened out completely, and though there was still a slight frown on his face, Cheng Xiaoshi could tell he was finally asleep. He continued staring for a while longer still, unable to take his eyes off the other.
In a way, he found Lu Guang’s fears a little funny— not because he was looking down on him in any way, but rather because Cheng Xiaoshi feared the exact same thing, and he was glad to know for sure that he was not the only one.
“I would never leave you.” He whispered against Lu Guang’s hair, “Never in a million years. So worry about yourself more, okay? I don’t know what I would do without you.”
What would he do without Lu Guang? He’d already faced that question once, when he believed Lu Guang had actually died, and he never wanted to have to face it again. In that moment he had felt as though his world had collapsed, and it was only the thought of the immediate danger surrounding him that kept him from totally breaking down. If he lost Lu Guang again for real…
No, no use dwelling on such miserable thoughts. They were both alive and well, right? They had been lucky enough to have made it out mostly unscathed, save for a few battle scars to remind them of what had transpired.
Cheng Xiaoshi smiled, then softly pressed his lips against Lu Guang’s forehead.
“Goodnight,” He closed his eyes, “See you tomorrow.”
He was sure Lu Guang would feel better in the morning, once the warm sun shone down on him and he had a familiar face to remind him that it had all just been a dream. Maybe he would even be embarrassed by his reaction tonight, but Cheng Xiaoshi would reassure him he had nothing to worry about.
He and Lu Guang were a team, only in nightmares would they ever be torn apart.