Work Text:
How it began was this: Ya Jiuxin was ambling down the city streets, completely at peace with himself and the world in general, when he came across Lu Xia by chance.
Terse words were exchanged. Hostile looks. It came down, as it was wont to do, to a rematch. The day was a Sunday and the courts at Yu Qing, Lu Xia declared, would be empty. They had to slip in past the security on duty, but Lu Xia did not seem to care and Jiuxin had certainly broken laws much more serious than a few measly school rules. There might have been no cheering masses from the bench, no fate of the school team on the line, no national qualifications at stake, but it did not mean that they did not play seriously, with everything else at stake.
Not that Jiuxin could play anything but seriously when someone like Lu Xia happened to be his opponent.
“If I win,” he said, panting, when they were tied at three each, “you’re going to do something for me.”
Lu Xia smirked at him from the other side of the court. “You’re not going to win.”
Ya Jiuxin did not win. Neither did Lu Xia, for that matter. The school security discovered them ten minutes later and threw them off the premises before they could bring the match to any definite conclusion.
The score, as it was, stood at 5-5.
It was when they were making their silent, sullen way to the nearest train station that Lu Xia asked, completely out of the blue, “What’s the thing you want me to do?”
Jiuxin shot him a belligerent look. “Neither of us won.”
“I’m curious,” Lu Xia deadpanned in return.
Screw you, was what Jiuxin should have, would have said if he had had nothing at stake. As it happened, he did have something at stake. Not a very big stake, and not at all important when he actually thought about it, but a stake nonetheless.
“The phone number of one of your teammates,” he finally said.
“Whose phone number?”
“Why would I tell you just to satisfy your fucking curiosity?”
“Because I might give it to you,” Lu Xia replied easily, with all the smugness and malice of a supreme asshole. Jiuxin should have known. Only a bigger asshole could have beaten him.
“Fine,” he growled. “Zhuo Zhi.”
That actually made Lu Xia stop walking. He gave Jiuxin a strange look. “Then why didn’t you ask He Xinglong?”
“Because I don’t want to,” Jiuxin said brusquely. “Are you giving it to me or not?”
Lu Xia did not reply at once. Instead, he subjected Jiuxin to a long searching look, the kind scientists must have given to those tiny fidgeting things under their microscopes.
Jiuxin glared at him in return, trying not to fidget.
“You want to talk about him,” Lu Xia finally spoke, deliberately dragging each word. A wicked light gleamed in his eyes. “That’s why you can’t ask him.”
“I can ask him,” Ya Jiuxin retorted, because this was a point he had to underline. “I just don’t want to.”
The smirk returned to Lu Xia’s face, wider and nastier than before. “Whatever.”
Then he gave him the number.
–
Ya Jiuxin sent a short message to the number: date and time and place. Bare facts. Perfectly to the point.
He did not wonder if Zhuo Zhi would show up. Ya Jiuxin had enough experience with people like him. He would show up.
On one hand, he couldn’t say he regretted playing against Lu Xia in the Yu Qing match. On the other hand, he wished that he could have also taken a crack against the player everyone had been calling a genius. See what the big deal was all about. Prove that he could teach him a thing or two, maybe even destroy him at court, just in case.
It wasn’t that Ya Jiuxin bore any personal grudge against the so-called prodigy of Yu Qing. He simply couldn’t stand the term—and all its implications. It smacked of privilege. Geniuses and prodigies were people who could come out on top without trying too hard. They belonged to a world that existed so far from everything he knew and stood for that he simply had to hate them on principle.
Lu Xia was definitely one of them. There was a reason why Ya Jiuxin found himself reaching for his racket whenever they ran into each other.
Zhuo Zhi, however, was something else entirely.
Ya Jiuxin had met people like him before. Sly, manipulative, often cruel. They were people who saw the world as a game. They refused to face anything head on. Instead, they resorted to tricks—skills, moves, playing styles, you could call them whatever, but the truth remained, they were tricks. Underhanded. Cowardly.
The idea that He Xinglong would be under the mercy of someone like this did not settle well with him.
How Ya Jiuxin had come into possession of this knowledge was a whole different story. Every Saturday, he worked as a volunteer at an animal rescue centre as part of his community service. No, he didn’t do it voluntarily. Yes, he was under orders. And yes, he was still doing it even though the mandatory three months had passed, shut up.
The point was, the rescue centre was where he had seen He Xinglong and Zhuo Zhi—on a date.
They had not seen him. Jiuxin had kept himself hidden behind a stack of cardboard boxes filled with dog food. But he could see them, lingering just outside the fenced-in part of the yard, watching the dogs at play. He could see He Xinglong’s face, lit up in a smile as he talked, pointing at this or that mutt. He could see how it softened, turning just a little bit shy and a different kind of happy, when his smaller companion took his hand and smiled in return.
Ya Jiuxin would probably have puked behind the boxes if the realisation hadn’t hit him with the force of a freight train at full speed.
They, He Xinglong and Zhuo Zhi, were dating.
–
“I’m good at hurting people,” was the first thing he said when the other boy arrived.
The thing about the prodigy of Yu Qing was he seemed thoroughly harmless at first glance. With his nice clothes and neatly combed hair and shiny new bag, he looked like one of those well-brought-up, well-to-do kids that Jiuxin wouldn’t have wasted any time of day interacting with in the usual course of things.
But then Zhuo Zhi opened his mouth.
“That must be useful,” he replied with every appearance of mildness, meeting Jiuxin’s gaze directly. He did not tremble or cower like so many of those well brought-up, well-to-do kids would upon finding themselves confronted by someone like Ya Jiuxin.
Thrown off a little but so far from admitting it, Ya Jiuxin resorted to threats at once. “Listen to me, you piece of shit. I’m very good at hurting people and I will not hesitate to hurt people who piss me off.”
Zhuo Zhi tilted his head slightly to one side. “Is this about Xinglong?”
“Maybe,” Ya Jiuxin said darkly. “Or maybe I just don’t like you in general.”
Zhuo Zhi said nothing for some time. Then a smile unexpectedly broke across his face. “I’m glad he has a friend like you.”
“Don’t try to butter me up,” Jiuxin snapped at him. “I know exactly what you are.”
There was a sigh as Zhuo Zhi turned away slightly, looking at the river to his left. “Very well. Maybe I am trying to butter you up, but that doesn’t mean what I said just now isn’t true. When I said I’m glad he has a friend like you, I mean every word of it.”
“Fine.” Ya Jiuxin took one step forward, right in the other boy’s face. “If you admire me so much, then get this into your head. If I so much as hear a rumour that you don’t treat him well, if I hear even a whisper of him not being happy with you, then get this: I will find you and you will find out why everyone is afraid of me. I will make you pay.”
Zhuo Zhi stared at him, an expression of wonder on his face. “You’re actually giving me the shovel talk.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Jiuxin growled, backing him against the low wall. “I’m not going to forgive you if you hurt him.”
“You mean the way you hurt him back then?”
Ya Jiuxin froze. Rage, to him, was a blinding thing. This, sharp and chilling, did not feel like rage. This felt like something much worse.
“What did you say?” he rasped.
“Because that was a shitty thing you did,” Zhuo Zhi continued, still with the same mildness, except there was also something so black and violent lurking behind his words that Jiuxin almost staggered back. “He was trying to help you. Instead, you said the worst thing you possibly could to his face. Really? Using his father? And you were supposed to be his friend.”
“Shut your mouth,” Ya Jiuxin snarled. “Don’t talk about things you don’t even fucking understand.”
“That should go both ways, don’t you think?” Zhuo Zhi said coolly. The look in his eyes, all the disdain and contempt, would have cowed people who were not Ya Jiuxin. As it was, Ya Jiuxin only felt an overwhelming urge to punch him.
“You’re a real piece of work.”
“Take one to know one,” Zhuo Zhi returned with a shrug. The smile had reappeared on his face, except it did nothing to erase the bloodied tracks his earlier words had caused. “But like I said, I’m glad he has a friend like you. Someone who cares about him so much to the point of actually confronting me.”
Jiuxin could feel the hard, throbbing pulse inside his head. “If you’re making this into a joke–”
“Ya Jiuxin!”
Jiuxin could barely react before he found himself being grabbed by the shoulder and yanked around—to face a panting, enraged He Xinglong.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Xinglong demanded, putting himself between Jiuxin and Zhuo Zhi at once.
Ya Jiuxin could feel the persistent throb turn into an actual headache. Of course he knew what it looked like, with him looming over the smaller Zhuo Zhi like that. He wasn’t stupid. The mere idea was infuriating enough, but it was the delighted expression on Zhuo Zhi’s face that made it ten times worse. He certainly wouldn’t put it past that devious asshole for flipping the table on him like this.
“We’re talking,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You’re threatening him!” He Xinglong snapped at him. “Ya Jiuxin, I’m warning you. I’m not going to forgive you if you hurt him!”
Of all the things… Ya Jiuxin simply had to gape.
It was Zhuo Zhi who burst into a laugh. “The two of you,” he managed to say between giggles, “are definitely good friends. You’re so alike.”
The indignation on He Xinglong’s face turned into confusion. Ya Jiuxin, who couldn’t even find it in him to be offended anymore, turned around and walked away with a harsh, murmured ‘forget it’. At least he had said what he had come to say. That should be enough to soothe his conscience or whatever it was that had made him do this.
What he didn’t expect was for someone to catch up with him only a second later—and that someone wasn’t He Xinglong.
“Ya Jiuxin.” It was the tone of Zhuo Zhi’s voice that stopped him in his track. Ya Jiuxin didn’t turn around, but he didn’t continue walking either.
“I meant what I said,” Zhuo Zhi spoke again. “I think you’re being interfering and I don’t appreciate your insinuations. But I do appreciate where they came from. You’re only saying those things because you’re worried.”
“I’m not worried,” Jiuxin said automatically.
“My point is,” Zhuo Zhi continued, ignoring his denial, “I care about Xinglong. And I will do my best to make sure you have no reason to find me and… do whatever it is you imagine doing to me.”
“He hurt himself for you,” Jiuxin retorted, throwing a glare over his shoulder. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
“Never,” Zhuo Zhi replied, quiet but firm.
The thing was, Ya Jiuxin might not like geniuses much, but he recognised strength of character when he saw one. Whatever else Zhuo Zhi might be, he was certainly honest. And he didn’t lack spine, something someone like Jiuxin could always appreciate.
Glancing at He Xinglong, who was still watching them with apprehensive eyes, Ya Jiuxin snorted. Then he jerked his head, not quite a nod, and stalked away.
–
“What was that about?” Xinglong asked as they made their way by the river, walking slowly side by side.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Zhuo Zhi replied cheerfully. “Like he said, just a little friendly talk.”
Xinglong frowned. “It didn’t look friendly to me.”
“Seriously, Xinglong, it’s fine.” Zhuo Zhi bumped their shoulders together, teasing and comforting both. “Ya Jiuxin and me, I think we understand each other now.”
Xinglong blinked at that. “Actually that sounds kinda terrifying.”
Zhuo Zhi laughed. “It does a little, doesn’t it?”
“Look, I know he can be rash sometimes–”
The rest of his words disappeared when he felt Zhuo Zhi lace their arms together, leaning on him. Xinglong almost froze, heartbeat suddenly loud in his ear. This, to have the weight of Zhuo Zhi’s head pressed against his arm, felt both natural and like the most incredible thing that could possibly happen that he had to consciously remind himself to keep walking.
They had only been dating for three months. Three months since Zhuo Zhi had put his arms around him and refused to let go, after that match with Yu Feng that had left him with a fractured wrist.
He Xinglong still woke up every morning marvelling at this incredible turn his life had taken. He had never been happier.
“Xinglong,” Zhuo Zhi’s voice had gone soft and sweet, slightly muffled, “do you have any idea how lovable you are?”
Xinglong found himself staring at him—his boyfriend. He still couldn’t believe it sometimes. “What… are you talking about?”
“Exactly that,” was the simple reply. “You’re so easy to love. No wonder so many people love you.”
Xinglong could feel his face burn with embarrassment. “I don’t think that’s true.”
Zhuo Zhi’s response was to turn and face him, hands suddenly slipping behind his neck, spinning him around. Xinglong fell in with it—he couldn’t not to.
It was one thing to know that they were dating, quite another to see the person he had had a crush on for so long looking at him like that. Zhuo Zhi’s face was tilted up, dappled with sunlight, and for once, Xinglong did not have to fight an urge to look away.
He could not look away.
“It’s true,” Zhuo Zhi spoke slowly, seriously. “Trust me, I know.”
Then he leaned up and pressed their lips together, just for a moment. Xinglong could feel himself melt.
“Why do I feel like I should thank Ya Jiuxin?” he murmured, helpless to do anything else but fall into Zhuo Zhi’s gravity.
“By all means.” Zhuo Zhi beamed at him, the most beautiful thing Xinglong ever saw. “As long as you kiss me first.”
End