Work Text:
6/9
Ai Di hadn’t had a happy childhood. His mother was an addict and never cared about him, even when he’d lived with her. She left him alone one day and didn’t come back. For all he knew, she was dead. She might as well be; she hadn’t spoken to him since he was six.
He’d never met his father, but he knew his mother had hated him, hated Ai Di too, probably. Mercifully, he’d been found walking around in his neighborhood by some older ladies. They had picked him up and taken him to an orphanage run by the state. Even then, Ai Di was much smaller than the other boys his age, and more prone to illness, too. The grimy orphanage and the lack of fresh air meant that disease was common, and Ai Di quickly became very sick. He didn’t remember very much of that time, he’d only been six, after all, and the fever left him unconscious most of the time. He did remember that there was an older boy who’d caused a big fuss about how poorly he looked, how hot his skin felt, and how he hadn’t been out of bed for days. That boy was struck around the ears for the tantrum he was throwing, but the nurse was called anyway and Ai Di was taken to an infirmary and nursed back to relative health.
When Ai Di was returned to the orphanage, he found the older boy and clung to him. His name was Chen Yi, and he didn’t seem to mind the way Ai Di never left him alone. Ai Di adored him. He was tall for his age and so kind, so responsible. He was tenacious and upstanding, even in their situation, and everything was going to be fine as long as he was around.
8/11
This orphanage was in the territory of a well-known gang leader, Chen Dong Yang. He didn’t have much to do with the orphanage, but he had given money to the staff under the table before, since they’d helped him falsify documents in the past. Word got out that he was looking for someone to raise as his right-hand, and of course Chen Yi was chosen. He was capable, accountable, and tough, and the orphanage staff had recommended him wholeheartedly.
To Chen Dong Yang’s amusement, however, the boy wouldn’t go without his little friend. Chen Dong Yang couldn’t really see much use for the other boy, who looked weak and clingy, but what was the harm in letting Chen Yi bring his friend home? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it.
Ai Di was happy to be out of the orphanage, of course, but he didn’t like the way Chen Dong Yang looked at Chen Yi. Ai Di thought he seemed greedy and unprincipled, and he treated Chen Yi like a prize animal. But when he voiced those concerns to Chen Yi, he could see how anxious and weary it made him feel. Chen Yi was shouldering all of this by himself; Ai Di was only eight years old and whatever Chen Yi claimed, Ai Di knew he had been a burden on him. It was thanks to Chen Yi that they were safely out of the orphanage and had the opportunities to live well and attend school. So, if Ai Di felt suspicious of Chen Dong Yang, he forced those feelings down, and tried to be happy, for Chen Yi.
The boys lived comfortably in Chen Dong Yang’s house, were enrolled in school together, and for a while, enjoyed a peaceful life.
13/16
He couldn’t say when it started, because maybe it had always been true, but definitely by his thirteenth birthday, Ai Di knew what he felt for Chen Yi was love. He wanted Chen Yi to kiss him and hold him, to protect him and think of him, to want him. And, though Chen Yi was three years older, there were times when he thought, or hoped, he could feel his affections being returned, when he could imagine that one day Chen Yi would love him back in the way he desperately wanted. Sometimes if they were laughing together, Chen Yi would look down at Ai Di’s lips and Ai Di would see his smile deepen. Sometimes Chen Yi’s hands, absentmindedly touching his back, would linger a little longer than usual, sending a tickle down Ai Di’s spine.
In those days, they were always together, sharing the kind of closeness that pushes outsiders away, makes them gawk at you. They would hang off each other in the halls, share cokes, doze off on the other’s shoulder while sitting by the basketball court, laugh loudly at jokes together that only they knew, and sneak away in the middle of the day just to be in each other’s company. Chen Yi didn’t care that Ai Di had a bad temper or poked fun at him. He didn’t mind it when Ai Di gave him a cold shoulder or kicked him in the shins or annoyed him with questions. Ai Di’s insults or pinches or kicks didn’t faze him, he took all of them in stride or playfully returned them. He was immovable; he was perfect. And when Ai Di couldn’t be near him, when they had class, Ai Di came across as reserved and stand-offish. The other students took offense at the way his demeanor and mood only improved when he was together with Chen Yi, as if he cared enough to insult them. He heard their whispered comments when he was alone about his arrogance, who the fuck does he think he is? He’s never once smiled at me. Not to mention the pair of them, I can’t believe they act like that… they’re brothers, it’s doubly disgusting! But Ai Di didn’t care. When he and Chen Yi were together, it was easy for Ai Di to imagine that they always would be; after all, it made the rest of the world feel so inconsequential. Conversation came so easily to them, silence that would have been awkward around someone else became so bearable, pressure melted away. But it meant that Ai Di always lived with a little bit of worry, that even his most innocent feelings for Chen Yi weren’t completely returned, that Chen Yi could find someone he’d rather spend his time with. Ai Di worried that even if he was happy to never speak to anyone else for the rest of his life, Chen Yi wasn’t. And where would that leave Ai Di, whom others believed to be rude and arrogant, who’d never planned to be apart from Chen Yi at all?
And he wasn’t sure when it happened, because it happened slowly, but one day Ai Di noticed that Chen Yi felt farther from him than he had since they’d met. He was still around most of the time, but he didn’t smile as much, and he barely laughed at all. He spent more and more time with the older gang members, and cared less than ever about his schoolwork (which had never been a priority, anyway). Chen Dong Yang started to give him more responsibilities, so his gang involvement rapidly picked up, and Ai Di was left feeling, well, left out, and overlooked.
14/17
Then, right around the time they left school, Ai Di figured out what had been so appealing as to pull Chen Yi’s focus all of a sudden. They’d been called to a dinner with the boss and Ai Di’s eyes were fixed on Chen Yi’s profile, as they frequently were. But Chen Yi’s eyes tonight weren’t idly skimming a logbook or squinting at his phone or glaring at a subordinate… They were filled with longing and adoration, trained on the man who’d been their benefactor for the past six years. Ai Di’s heart squeezed in his chest and his already low mood plummeted. His eyes traveled back and forth that night between Chen Yi and their boss. He watched Chen Dong Yang laugh, his tanned skin crinkling at the corners of his narrow, black eyes, his thin lips parting handsomely to reveal a set of large, white teeth. He clapped a large, calloused hand on Chen Yi’s back, causing Chen Yi to flinch, almost imperceivably, and to flush just barely at the tips of the ears. The dinner that was served tasted of ash and Ai Di barely engaged in or even heard any conversation. Ai Di watched the dinner unfold as if he were an unseen spectator, Chen Dong Yang’s smile becoming cartoonish and vulgar, looking more predatory, evil, with every second he stared at it. Old, almost-forgotten misgivings he’d had about Chen Dong Yang’s intentions with the two of them swam back to the front of Ai Di’s mind. He felt a little seed of loathing being planted there. Ai Di didn’t want him touching Chen Yi. He didn’t want them to be there at dinner with him. He wished they’d never met him. If he weren’t here, he could have Chen Yi all to himself, never having to worry that Chen Yi loved someone else more than him, never having to watch Chen Yi gaze adoringly at someone who only saw him as a means to an end.
But it was worse than Chen Yi’s focus being momentarily derailed. Most devastating to Ai Di was the realization that that’s what Chen Yi liked, that Chen Dong Yang was the type of person he wanted. Chen Dong Yang was everything Ai Di was not and could not be. He was tall, close to six feet, muscular and handsome, with tan skin and broad shoulders. His behavior was calculated, with a self-control few were capable of and a way of acting that betrayed no emotions, if he in fact felt any at all. Beside him, Ai Di’s small stature became even smaller, his pale skin and thin frame appeared boyish and undesirable, and his delicate features seemed weak. His short temper didn’t seem bold, it seemed childish, and his directness felt crass. How could he ever compare to Chen Dong Yang? How could he ever hope to be attractive to Chen Yi in this body? There were times he thought he hated himself for being so at odds with what Chen Yi wanted, but he could never hate Chen Yi. After all, Chen Yi was just looking upwards, and wasn’t Ai Di doing the same?
Still, Ai Di couldn’t let allow himself to actually try to emulate Chen Dong Yang; it would feel too pathetic. If anything, this upsetting revelation regarding Chen Yi’s preferences compelled Ai Di to stop caring what anyone thought regarding his appearance. He wasn’t in school anymore, anyway. He bleached his hair the way he’d wanted to for years, got Chen Yi to buy him expensive chains and rings, pierced his ears several times over, and spent a small fortune building a wardrobe of loud, fashionable clothes. It made him the center of attention in most situations, and Ai Di liked what that did for him.
Because Ai Di wasn’t blind; even if Chen Yi didn’t, other men did find him attractive. The eyes of Chen Dong Yang’s business partners had often followed him as he walked into their meetings and in bars or clubs, he’d been approached more than once by an overeager, drunk partier. He liked the attention, liked even better the way their attention drew Chen Yi’s attention, too. Every time Chen Yi moved to stand in front of him and look menacing at meetings or showed up to pull him into his arms or fling someone’s groping hands off of him, Ai Di’s heart fluttered. He knew it was only because Chen Yi wanted to keep him out of trouble, but he needed the reminder every now and then, that Chen Yi still cared about him, even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted.
15/18
Chen Yi missed their fifteenth birthday to celebrate with Chen Dong Yang. Ai Di got upset and Chen Yi promised he’d make it next year. Ai Di still felt horribly sad, but he told himself it was a one-time thing; he’d get over it. He tried to focus on his work.
Around then, he also started drinking, an activity he pursued aggressively, for a number of reasons. First, it gave him a reprieve from the depression caused by his ever-worsening prospects. He wasn’t in school anymore, fine. He hadn’t had any patience for it, in the first place. He was stuck in this gang, unsure how he could get out, unsure whether he wanted to get out, unsure if he’d end up dead tomorrow or in a week… fine. He didn’t know anything but the gang, true, but really, he didn’t know how he could ever live without Chen Yi, even with how they were now, so fine, he was doomed. He was left clinging to the one person he had ever hoped to live for, despite Chen Yi having looked away from him long ago. Second, in drinking with his fellow gang members, he found that they, at least the ones his age, actually liked his brash behavior and his careless attitude. He still wasn’t close with most of them— none of them came near what Chen Yi had been to him, but they were fun to waste time with; a welcome distraction, as well as a convenient way to justify the drinking.
Third, it helped him to, for lack of a better word, lubricate his sexual encounters. Ai Di wanted to be loved, badly, he needed someone to hold onto, and Chen Yi didn’t want him, so he had to look elsewhere, even if it made him feel like shit. His first time, he had been extremely drunk, and gone home with some college student he’d met clubbing. He woke up the next morning on his floor, naked, bruises around his neck, stripes of salt dried onto his cheeks, his whole body aching and his head throbbing, and the college student had gone. He couldn’t think of anything else to do, so he’d called Chen Yi and asked him for help. Chen Yi came to get him, but Ai Di had never felt so estranged from him as he felt that day. When he walked out of the building, he’d felt Chen Yi’s eyes circling his bruised neck, he’d heard Chen Yi scoff at the wince he let escape as he sat down in the passenger seat, he’d endured the frigidity with which Chen Yi filled the car on their silent drive back, and he’d listened to the tirade about his disregard for his own safety that Chen Yi unleashed on him back at the garage. It was probably the most miserable day Ai Di had experienced in a long time, and the emptiness it engendered was almost unbearable. They had been fifteen and eighteen then, and it was the first time he’d ever felt the age difference. That day he had felt so small, so immature, so much a waste of Chen Yi’s time, so alone. The loneliness reached out into his limbs, his digits, chilling every nerve in his body. He wanted so badly, so, so badly, to talk to Chen Yi until he understood, until they could see each other clearly again, but he couldn’t get the words out. He took what Chen Yi threw at him that day in silence and cried himself to sleep that night. He had slept with others since, but only when he was very drunk— he could never bring himself to go through with it sober— and he never let Chen Yi find out about it again.
That day was miserable for Chen Yi too, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. Of course, he was upset that someone he cared so much about had had this happen to himself. It pained Chen Yi to hear the tremor in his voice when Ai Di called him and to see the nervousness and fear on Ai Di’s face when Chen Yi arrived to pick him up. It hurt even more to discover the bruises around his neck and watch him stare wordlessly at the floor in shame the entire drive home. So why, then, had he acted that way? He hated the way he knew he was making Ai Di feel, but he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to scoff at him, but he scoffed. He didn’t want to yell at him, but he yelled anyway. The second he opened his mouth, he regretted it. He regretted it before the scowl contorted his face and before the words crossed his lips. Ai Di didn’t deserve the way Chen Yi was treating him; Chen Yi knew that. It was just that Chen Yi couldn’t stop himself; he couldn’t think about why he was acting this way because he found everything about the situation too unpleasant to comprehend. And with it so raw in his mind, he lashed out at the only person he could get to. He was mad at himself, he was mad at the college student, he was mad… He didn’t know; he didn’t know anything with any certainty. But whatever he knew or didn’t know, Chen Yi felt insurmountable remorse about that day and he blamed himself for everything that had happened. He could never sort out his other feelings about it in his head, to his frustration, and could never vocalize any of these feelings to Ai Di, not even the remorse. And so, time moved on, and the window in which Chen Yi should have said something slowly closed, and Chen Yi let it.
The gap between them continued to grow over the following years. Chen Yi redoubled his gang involvement, and was soon placed in charge of his own territory. He got a large tattoo on his back, symbolizing his status as Chen Dong Yang’s ward. He kept Ai Di in close proximity… Ai Di was his right-hand man, his room was just down the hall from Chen Yi’s, Chen Yi took Ai Di along on missions. He and Chen Yi fought back-to-back, they cleaned each other’s wounds, they discussed plans with one another, but the closeness they’d shared in their childhood had all but disappeared. Ai Di was reminded of it often, in the way Chen Yi put his arm over his shoulder to lead him away, in the way he sometimes absentmindedly pushed back the hair on his forehead, in the way he insisted that Ai Di remain in his faction, but really, what they had shared seemed broken, and Ai Di didn’t know if Chen Yi could even remember it ever having been whole.
Chen Yi never knew what to say to Ai Di. It was as if there was something big, something obvious, that he knew he had to get out, knew he had to let Ai Di know, but it was invisible to him. This vexed him, and he stuck instead to what he knew; he needed Ai Di close, and to him, as far as he could sort out, that meant he and Ai Di needed to stay brothers.
16/19
Chen Yi missed their sixteenth birthday to celebrate with Chen Dong Yang. Ai Di didn’t remind him what he’d said last year, and Chen Yi couldn’t figure out what made Ai Di seem so listless that week. Chen Yi could never figure out Ai Di’s moods anymore.
Actually, Chen Yi did reason out one feeling: He hated Ai Di’s gang involvement. There were few things that made him as uncomfortable, sad, or fearful as he became when he saw Ai Di’s violence towards their captives or opponents. He didn’t think he’d be able to bear it if Ai Di ever actually killed someone, and not just because that could land him in prison. To hear the other gang members describe Ai Di’s actions as “insane” or “brutal” filled him with lingering worry. To hear Ai Di describe himself as crazy was worse, because it felt like a stupid lie, and one that Ai Di was too young to understand was something he would regret. He knew Ai Di wasn’t what he acted like he was. There were gang members that were psychotic, bloodthirsty, past the point of no return, but Ai Di wasn’t. Ai Di was his xiao didi, who he'd known since he was nine years old, who always stood up for what he thought was right, who came running when he was injured, who had been forced to grow up too quickly in conditions that couldn’t have been survived by a weaker person. Chen Yi’s three years on Ai Di didn’t mean very much, Chen Yi thought, but maybe this was the one place they let him see a little more. Maybe it was this bit of extra experience that let Chen Yi see that this sadistic persona was more harmful to Ai Di than anyone else, that it was a lie, that Ai Di was digging himself a hole too deep to crawl out of. Chen Yi also knew that he was too selfish to actually force Ai Di out of the gang. He needed Ai Di in the gang. He knew it tied them together, and he wasn’t sure what else was keeping Ai Di here. So, he settled instead for hauling Ai Di off of people if the situation appeared to be getting out of hand or asking him sheepishly from time to time if he wanted to do anything else with his life. Because for all he knew, since it was all Ai Di would let him know, Ai Di wasn’t interested in leaving the gang, it was Chen Yi he was interested in leaving.
One day, under Chen Yi’s oppressive stare, in the middle of a lengthy scolding, Ai Di had asked him why he even cared. Ai Di noticed the disbelief and sadness those words sparked in Chen Yi’s eyes, and to Ai Di’s dismay, that sent a little bit of warmth back into Ai Di. He felt pathetic about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Chen Yi that he cared about him, too, that he cared that Chen Yi cared about him, so he told Chen Yi he didn’t need him to care, that he was smothering him with all his caring, just to see the distress this caused him. He started saying things like that quite a lot. It wasn’t true, of course, that he didn’t need Chen Yi to care, and someone with a mind less muddled than Chen Yi’s would have known that, but all Chen Yi heard was that Ai Di didn’t need him anymore, and where did that leave Chen Yi? What good was Chen Yi, then, if he couldn’t care for Ai Di?
17/20
Chen Yi missed their seventeenth birthday to celebrate with Chen Dong Yang. Ai Di threw the cake he’d bought into the trash and yelled at a subordinate who saw him do it for half an hour about minding his own business. He hated Chen Dong Yang. He really, really hated him.
And Ai Di’s not-so-secret hatred for Chen Dong Yang grew; he found it harder and harder to keep quiet about it. It was mean and he knew it, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Chen Yi’s crush on their boss. He hated himself for saying what he said, he hated himself for being unable to stop himself from thinking about it, he hated that he couldn’t let him go no matter how hard he tried. He poked and prodded and dug at and picked away at the person he loved so, so much. He insulted his feelings, accused him of cowardice, demeaned him. More than anything, these were things he wanted to say to himself. Coward. You love him but you dare not tell him. Be brave and tell him. Their relationship grew more strained than ever, but Chen Yi was strong, really, and resilient, and it only made Ai Di love him more. Chen Yi wouldn’t let him go and he wouldn’t look at him either. No matter what Ai Di did, Chen Yi kept caring for him and loving him, in all the wrong ways. It was maddening, being so completely helpless to affect any change in him. He just could not get Chen Yi to hate him. The most he would do, after Ai Di’s most callous, mean-hearted, nasty insults, was threaten or shove him, never anything worse than that. Even if Chen Yi told him he wouldn’t put up with it, Chen Yi still did, time and time again.