Chapter Text
Peals of delighted laughter float through the air as Hua Cheng playfully tackles Guzi to the ground, having finally gained the upper hand in their wrestling match. “I told you you were no match for me,” Hua Cheng declares, leaning down to blow a few raspberries against Guzi’s tummy, resulting in a less-than-appropriate sound filling the apartment.
Guzi giggles, squirming away from Hua Cheng’s ticklish touch. “San Lang!” he gasps, a breathless grin revealing his enjoyment. “No more, no more!”
Hua Cheng chuckles but immediately pulls back. “As you wish.” He raises an eyebrow and extends a hand. “Does this mean I’ve won, then?”
Guzi stares at Hua Cheng’s hand, a mischievous expression glinting in his eyes. With a tiny (far from intimidating) growl, he launches himself at Hua Cheng, throwing his body over the taller man’s back.
“Not again!” Hua Cheng declares, falling with a dramatic groan to the ground as the game continues.
From behind the kitchen counter, Xie Lian chuckles. It had been his turn to wash the dishes tonight, so he stands at the sink, hands covered in soapy water. Though his back is turned to Hua Cheng and Guzi’s shenanigans, Xie Lian reckons that his mental conjuring of whatever’s happening in the living room is likely just as humorous as the real thing. “Be gentle, Guzi,” he cautions, glancing back over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow in warning.
“I am!” Guzi replies. His words are punctuated by a tiny grunt of effort as Hua Cheng rolls out of his grasp.
The fight continues for a few more minutes, by which time Xie Lian has finished washing the dishes and is drying his hands on a rag. He plants his hands on the counter and watches with a warm smile as the wrestling show-down of the century continues.
“Do you think this is a fair fight, gege?” Hua Cheng bemoans, trying “fruitlessly” to pry Guzi’s arms from around his neck. When no response comes, Hua Cheng glances back at Xie Lian, only to find him pinching the bridge of his nose, features tight. “Gege?” he asks, concerned.
Guzi, sensing the sudden seriousness in Hua Cheng’s voice, immediately pauses and turns to look at his father.
Xie Lian glances up with a start, dropping his hand and clearing his expression. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smile. “Just a headache.”
Hua Cheng frowns and then carefully lowers Guzi to the ground before ruffling the little boy’s hair, gently communicating an end to their game.
Guzi watches as Hua Cheng walks over to Xie Lian, whose smile reveals that he already knows what Hua Cheng is going to say. “I’m fine, San Lang,” he assures, reaching out squeeze Hua Cheng’s arm. “It’s just a headache.”
Hua Cheng is not so easily convinced. “You don’t usually get headaches…?” he murmurs, eye tracing over Xie Lian’s features.
“It’s been a long day,” Xie Lian says with an easy expression and a shrug. “I just over-worked myself. I feel fine.”
Hua Cheng nods and his expression softens as he reaches out, tucking a stray strand of Xie Lian’s hair behind his ear. “You rest. I’ll finish up the kitchen. And make some tea.”
Xie Lian acquiesces with a smile before the sound of tiny feet padding across the kitchen floor draws his attention. “You feeling okay, Daddy?” Guzi asks, reaching out to grab one of Xie Lian’s hands—a questioning touch.
Xie Lian’s expression warms—how could it not?—and he bends down, rubbing his nose against Guzi’s. “Perfectly fine. Come on, let’s watch something before bed.”
Guzi nods, worries erased, and then half-hops/half-runs over to the couch.
Xie Lian glances at Hua Cheng and, still seeing a touch of worry creased in his features, reaches up to cradle his cheek, brushing his thumb over the skin.
Ever susceptible to Xie Lian’s touch, Hua Cheng immediately leans into his beloved’s palm, kissing it with a smile. “Understood,” he murmurs. “You’re fine.”
Xie Lian raises a playful eyebrow and then leans up on tiptoe to press a kiss to the corner of Hua Cheng’s lips. “Perfectly fine.” Then, with a soft chuckle, he pulls back before making his way over to the couch where Guzi is already waiting with the remote.
Hua Cheng shakes his head, the smile lingering on his lips, and then sets about tidying up the rest of the kitchen and picking up all the carnage from his earlier battle with Guzi. Every once in a while, he glances over at the couch to find Xie Lian and Guzi snuggled together, their gazes fixed on the TV.
With the living room and kitchen finished, Hua Cheng sets about preparing a cup of herbal tea—Xie Lian’s favorite. The tea kettle whistles and Hua Cheng pours the boiling water over the tea bag, ensuring it steeps for the proper amount of time. After he pours them both a cup, Hua Cheng loads them onto a small tray and then pads over to the couch.
“Here you go, ge…” he starts, but the words trail away when he discovers Xie Lian and Guzi curled together on the couch… sound asleep.
Xie Lian leans against the arm of the couch, his cheek propped up on his knuckles, as if he’d fallen asleep mid-thought. Guzi lies snuggled close to Xie Lian’s side, with both his arms wrapped around Xie Lian’s bicep and his little face scrunched against Xie Lian’s sweater. It’s a touching sight, one that Hua Cheng commits to memory so he can draw it later.
The closer he gets, however, the more Hua Cheng notices that Xie Lian’s cheeks are flushed… and his expression doesn’t look as calm and peaceful as it usually does. Hua Cheng can tell that there’s an unease to his slumber tonight.
And so, looking on with a gentleness that’s only ever been afforded to his family, Hua Cheng leans down and lowers the tray onto the coffee table as quietly as possible. He reaches out and untangles Guzi arms from around Xie Lian’s bicep before lifting him into his arms—working as gingerly as possible so as not to wake either of them.
Despite his best efforts, Xie Lian stirs, slowly waking—having no doubt sensed the absence of Guzi’s weight against him.
“Hey,” Hua Cheng greets with a smile as Xie Lian turns to look up at him—his gaze half-lidded and adorably sleepy. “It’s just me. I’m taking Guzi up to bed. You can go back to sleep.”
Xie Lian blinks once and then nods, setting his cheek back down on his knuckles. “I think I’ll head that way, too.”
“Good,” Hua Cheng murmurs, watching in amusement Xie Lian closes his eyes, making no effort to leave the couch. “Be right back.”
Xie Lian hums absently, on the verge of sleep once more.
Hua Cheng bends down and presses a chaste kiss to Xie Lian’s forehead before heading towards the stairs. He takes them as gingerly as possible, but the movement still startles Guzi, who awakes, dazed and bleary-eyed. “S…S’Lang…?”” he hums questioningly, sitting up in Hua Cheng’s arms and glancing around blearily.
“Shh,” Hua Cheng soothes softly, running a palm over Guzi’s back. “It’s just me, buddy. You can go back to sleep.”
“Time for bed?” he mumbles, pressing a palm against Hua Cheng’s chest as he rubs his eyes with the other.
“Time for bed,” Hua Cheng confirms.
Guzi hums in response and leans back into Hua Cheng, lulled by the gentle swaying as he’s carried—first up the stairs, then into his room, where he’s laid gently beneath the covers.
Hua Cheng doesn’t bother to change Guzi into his pajamas. Instead, he simply pushes Guzi’s bangs off his forehead and leans down, pressing a kiss to the little boy’s temple.
He’s warm—no doubt from being snuggled next to Xie Lian, Hua Cheng assumes. Guzi inhales deeply at the touch, already sound asleep.
Hua Cheng smiles, exceedingly fond. “Goodnight, buddy,” he whispers, running a few fingers through Guzi’s hair. He waits a few moments to ensure Guzi is fully asleep before quietly slipping from the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
When Hua Cheng returns downstairs, he crosses over to the couch in a few strides and finds Xie Lian as he left him—sleeping soundly, his lips parted as he pulls in soft, quiet breaths.
Hua Cheng’s heart flutters affectionately in his chest. He leans down and, in a series of swift, precise movements, begins to lift Xie Lian into his arms—like a bridal carry.
Unsurprisingly, Xie Lian startles awakes with a soft gasp as Hua Cheng gently pulls him into the air.
“It’s just me,” Hua Cheng assures, echoing what he’d said to Guzi earlier. He leans down and presses a kiss to Xie Lian’s temple before heading towards the stairs.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian protests, sleepy but fond. “I can walk.”
Hua Cheng smiles—nearly smirking—when Xie Lian curls into his arms, contradicting his protestations and seemingly accepting his fate for the night.
“I know you can,” he murmurs deeply, crossing the living room, “but why should you have to?”
Xie Lian simply hums, flattening a palm against Hua Cheng’s chest as they reach the stairs. Each of Hua Cheng’s steps are measured and careful as he ascends to their bedroom, ensuring that Xie Lian is jostled as little as possible.
After nudging open the door with his shoulder, Hua Cheng steps inside and then carefully lowers Xie Lian to his feet.
Xie Lian stretches his arms out with a powerful yawn that crinkles his nose in an adorably devastating way. “Guzi…?” he asks, glancing around to see if the little boy’s been tucked into their bed for the night.
“Sound asleep,” Hua Cheng replies. “I tucked him in a little while ago.”
Xie Lian’s gaze is fond and deeply affectionate as he turns back to face Hua Cheng, more awake now than he was before. Hua Cheng tilts his head down to peer into Xie Lian’s face as he steps forward, loops both arms around Hua Cheng’s waist, pressing their bodies close together.
“Thank you,” Xie Lian murmurs, shaking his head. “You spoil me, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng smiles, all warmth, and reaches out to tuck away a few stray strands of Xie Lian’s hair. “Only because gege deserves to be spoiled.” He leans in then, pressing his lips to Xie Lian’s. “Now and always.”
“Hm,” Xie Lian hums, expelling a soft breath through his nose. The corners of his lips turn up in a gentle smile.
They remain together for a few moments, swaying back and forth, before Hua Cheng breaks the silence. “Your head still hurting?”
“A little,” Xie Lian admits with a shrug. “But I’m okay.”
Hua Cheng wonders if Xie Lian’s being honest. Or, if his pain tolerance is simply so high that he can no longer discern low-level pain from severe pain. “Let’s head to bed then,” he says, rubbing his palm across Xie Lian’s back. “You need to rest.”
For once, Xie Lian doesn’t protest.
They go through their usual nightly routine—brushing teeth, combing hair, changing into pajamas—before crawling into bed. Hua Cheng’s gaze can’t help but sharpen on the way Xie Lian moves tonight: slowly, with his shoulders slightly hunched—clearly carrying the weight from the day.
Hua Cheng stretches out on his back as Xie Lian crawls into bed beside him, curling in on himself.
“Cold?” Hua Cheng asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Mm. Just a little,” Xie Lian says, huddling closer to Hua Cheng, who opens his arm to make room.
“Better?”
“Mm. Thank you, San Lang.” Xie Lian inhales deeply, scooting even closer.
Hua Cheng’s fingers find his hair, stroking through the strands in a slow, steady pattern that always manages to soothe him to sleep.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, Hua Cheng feels Xie Lian’s breathing even out, feels the weight heavy against him. Hua Cheng closes his eye as he continues to stroke through Xie Lian’s hair. It isn’t long before he too succumbs to the pull of sleep.
It’s not often that Hua Cheng wakes alone anymore. In fact, the only time it occurs is on the rare occasion when he has an overnight stay somewhere for business.
Perhaps that’s why Hua Cheng stirs, drawn from his slumber by the sensation of an empty space beside him where Xie Lian should be. “Gege?” he whispers into the darkness, rolling over and reaching a hand out to the space where Xie Lian should be. Sure enough, the bed is warm but empty. He sits up and instinctively grabs his eyepatch from the side table, pulling it on.
“Xie Lian?” He throws the covers away and stands up, blinking himself awake, despite his blurry, unfocused vision. It’s then, as he glances around the room, that a glimmer of light catches his eye; it’s peeking out from around the edges of their bathroom door.
Frowning, Hua Cheng crosses over. The ground is cold beneath his feet. He raises a hand and then raps his knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply. “Xie Lian?” he asks, when he’s met with a stretch of silence. “It’s me.”
“I-I’m fine, San Lang,” comes Xie Lian’s muffled reply. “You can go back to bed.”
But there’s something in Xie Lian’s voice, in his tone, that instantly sets Hua Cheng on guard. He takes a breath and then in a firm, steady voice says, “I’m coming in.”
He slides the door away and discovers Xie Lian on the ground, shivering as he kneels over the toilet. His skin is pale and sallow, glistening with beads of clammy sweat. He holds his hair back with one hand while he uses the other to reach up and flush the toilet, having clearly just been sick into it.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs, voice burning with concern as he hurries over to Xie Lian and crouches beside him, placing a hand on the small of his back.
“Hi,” Xie Lian greets with a feeble, half-hearted smile, looking up into Hua Cheng’s face with a mix of guilt and relief. “Turns out it was more than just a headache.”
Hua Cheng ignores the deflective play at humor and instead brushes the backs of his knuckles over Xie Lian’s cheek in a gesture that’s both soothing and informative. As expected, Xie Lian’s skin is hot to the touch.
“You’re burning up,” Hua Cheng mumbles with a frown, eyebrows pulled taut over his forehead. His eye traces Xie Lian’s face searchingly, almost pained. “How long have you been in here? Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Xie Lian admits with an apologetic smile. His expression suddenly drops. “I-I’m sorry.”
Hua Cheng’s reply is immediate and emphatic. “Don’t apologize.” He reaches out and wraps Xie Lian in his arms, pressing him close. He tucks Xie Lian’s head beneath his chin and smooths a palm up and down the length of his arm, warming him. “I’m not upset. I’m here now, I’ve got you.”
Xie Lian nods, trying to swallow away the sob that’s suddenly crawling up his throat. Because It’s not that he’s never been sick before—it doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. But it’s just that…
Well, he’s so used to managing it on his own. A single parent can’t afford to relax and recuperate when they’re sick. There’s chores to be done and hugs to give and schedules to keep. So to hear Hua Cheng say—
I’m here now, I’ve got you.
Xie Lian nods, leaning into Hua Cheng with a shiver, seeking out the warming comfort of his bare skin.
“I’ve got you,” Hua Cheng repeats, enveloping Xie Lian in his arms and pressing him close. For few moments, they lean into each other, rocking faintly. The tightly-wound spring in Hua Cheng’s chest loosens just slightly when Xie Lian’s shivers begin to subside, warmed by the heat of his body.
It isn’t long, however, before Xie Lian feels his stomach churning with another overpowering wave of nausea.
“San Lang, I—”
Xie Lian jerks, twisting out of Hua Cheng’s arms to bend back over the toilet. He makes it just in time, coughing into the bowl with a heave, emptying out more of the remaining contents of his stomach.
Hua Cheng acts quickly, sweeping Xie Lian’s long hair into one hand and holding it away. With the other, he rubs slow, soothing circles into Xie Lian’s back, completely unbothered by the sound and smell of sick as he comforts Xie Lian through it, his eyebrows creased together in an aching expression. There’s nothing more agonizing than watching the ones you love experience pain and discomfort and being helpless to stop it.
Xie Lian coughs as the latest bout of nausea subsides, like a wave being drawn back to the sea. A few tears squeeze out of the corners of his eyes, tracing a path down his cheeks. His hands grip the seat of the toilet, white-knuckled and shaking.
Hua Cheng doesn’t say anything—there’s nothing he can say to make the situation much better. Instead, he works. First, by clearing away Xie Lian’s tears with a feather-soft brush of his fingertips. Then, by delicately piling Xie Lian’s hair into a bun off the top of his head before securing it in place with a ribbon. Finally, by wetting a cloth, which he uses to clear away the corners of Xie Lian’s mouth.
“It’s alright,” Hua Cheng murmurs when Xie Lian shakes his head, as if to protest. “I’m not bothered.”
Xie Lian closes his eyes. “I-I’ll be fine, San Lang, really,” he insists feebly, fingers still gripping the toilet bowl. “It’s just a stomach bug. You don’t need to be here for this.”
“As if I could entertain being anywhere else,” Hua Cheng murmurs, his tone gentle but insistent, making it clear there’s no room for argument. He brushes his fingers over Xie Lian’s cheek. “You would do the same for me.”
Xie Lian manages a soft smile, even while his stomach churns. Because he knows it’s true—Xie Lian would never let Hua Cheng suffer discomfort alone. His eyes find Hua Cheng’s and nods, a silent agreement.
Hua Cheng nods too before leaning in and pressing his forehead to Xie Lian’s. “I’ll go get you some water,” he murmurs when they separate. He realizes that Xie Lian is shivering again. “And a warm blanket.”
Xie Lian nods feebly, leaning back against the tub. “Thank you,” he says with a swallow.
“Be right back,” Hua Cheng murmurs, gently tucking away a few strands of hair from Xie Lian’s face and pressing a kiss to his temple. Reluctantly, he heads downstairs where he grabs a blanket and throws it in the dryer on high heat.
While it warms, he fills a glass with cool water from the fridge. He waits only a few more moments before retrieving the blanket and returning upstairs, his footsteps light and quick.
He returns to the bathroom to find Xie Lian where he left him—leaning back against the tub, his body curled in on itself as he shivers on the tile floor. “Here,” he whispers gently, crouching down next to Xie Lian. “Let’s get you warmed up.” He drapes the blanket over Xie Lian’s shoulders before offering him the glass of water.
Xie Lian sips from it cautiously, closing his eyes as the cool liquid soothes the heat in his throat. He watches as Hua Cheng takes a seat next to him on the ground.
Then, one of Hua Cheng’s arms is around his shoulders, drawing him in close, warming him even further. Xie Lian hums appreciatively, taking another tentative sip of his water. “Thank you, San Lang,” he murmurs, voice cracking just slightly.
“I’m here, gege,” Hua Cheng replies softly, using his thumb to massage a circle against Xie Lian’s arm. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No,” Xie Lian breathes. “This is more than enough.” Eventually, the nausea returns.
Xie Lian empties everything in his stomach several times over until he’s dry-heaving air.
Hua Cheng soothes him through it all—massaging his back, applying a cool towel to the back of Xie Lian’s neck.
When it seems like the nausea has finally subsided, Hua Cheng gingerly removes the towel on the back of Xie Lian’s neck and then adjusts the blanket so it covers Xie Lian’s shoulders. “Do you feel well enough to go back to bed?”
Xie Lian nods, peering up at Hua Cheng with grateful eyes. “Yes, I think so.”
“Good.” Hua Cheng realizes that Xie Lian’s clothes are damp with clammy sweat, sticking to his skin. “Let’s get you out of these clothes first.”
Hua Cheng works quickly but gingerly, carefully peeling Xie Lian out of his night shirt and pants before once again covering him with a blanket. With that settled, he then bends down and guides Xie Lian’s arms around his neck, telling him to hold on. “Up we go.” For the second time that night, Hua Cheng lifts Xie Lian into his arms.
Despite feeling absolutely wretched, Xie Lian can’t help but chuckle. “There you go again.” His arms curl more tightly around Hua Cheng’s broad shoulders, holding on.
“Yes, but gege definitely needs it now,” Hua Cheng replies, offering a gentle smile. He carries Xie Lian over to the bed before gingerly tucking him in and crawling beside him.
Xie Lian shivers as Hua Cheng huddles close to him, wrapping arms around him beneath the covers to keep him warm. “What if you get sick, too?” he whispers between gritted teeth, pressing his cheek against Hua Cheng’s bare chest. His fingers curl against Hua Cheng’s skin, seeking the comfort of his touch.
Hua Cheng shrugs. “Then I do,” he responds simply, the words gentle. “It’s no matter to me. For right now, my only focus is you.”
Xie Lian feels those tears burning at the backs of his eyes again. He nods, settling against Hua Cheng’s body as the syrupy pull of exhaustion begins to drag him into much-needed sleep. “What about Guzi?” he murmurs, the words cottony in his mouth. “We… were supposed to go to the park tomorrow.”
“Shh,” Hua Cheng soothes, running a hand up Xie Lian’s back in soothing circles. “Let me worry about all of that. For now, just rest.”
Xie Lian nods. And in a moment, he’s asleep.
Hua Cheng heaves a deep, lung-expanding breath. He can feel the heat rolling off Xie Lian’s body next to him. He hopes they can break his fever tomorrow. For now, however, he knows that he’ll need his rest just as much as Xie Lian.
So, despite the ache in his chest, Hua Cheng tilts his head to the side and, with his cheek pressed to Xie Lian’s forehead, waits for sleep.