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Chapter Text

The cup of fresh black coffee Lu Guang has made rests on its little white saucer, steam slowly rising from the surface. Standing behind the front counter, Lu Guang polishes the lens for his new film camera, clicks it into place, and crouches to be eye level with the cup. He places the viewfinder to his eye and focuses on the coffee. The scene blurs and clears and blurs again, making little whirs with each switch before finally clearing up. 

These days, most of his time is spent developing photos for clients and running the photo diving business on the side with his partner. Yet, Lu Guang’s passion for taking photos that he grew during college with said partner has never waned. When he says this to their clients, they love to excitedly ask, oooh, so are you into landscape photography? Lifestyle photography? Maybe nature photography? 

Lu Guang himself doesn’t know—he just captures all the moments he feels are worth capturing, still scenes like this being one of them. 

The moment is soft and quiet, just the way Lu Guang loves—and that can only mean one thing. Lu Guang closes his eyes and gently presses his finger into the shutter button. 

One.

Two.

Thre—“LU GUAAANG!”

Click. Like clockwork, the hurricane he lives with that goes by the name Cheng Xiaoshi barges through the front door to disrupt his moment, entering the frame just a millisecond before the shutter goes off and the film slides out of the lip of the camera. The shopkeeper’s bell dings at the top of its little lungs to announce his arrival, though Lu Guang never needs it to do its job when it’s Cheng Xiaoshi coming through that door.

“... idiot. You probably ruined the picture,” Lu Guang chides him as he stands back up. He takes the film from the camera and turns away from his partner to enter the darkroom. Cheng Xiaoshi immediately trails after him like a duckling that’s just found its mother, frantically flailing his arms around in the air. 

“That doesn’t matter right now! We’re taking a lunch break, and you’re coming with me to the new boba shop down the street!” Cheng Xiaoshi declares, putting his arm around Lu Guang’s shoulder.

“It just opened? In that case, we should wait until the lines die down first.” Standing in front of the trays of photographic developer solution, Lu Guang stares at the film in his hand, contemplating it. 

Cheng Xiaoshi slumps onto Lu Guang with a loud groan, squeezing him and rocking the two of them back and forth to the rhythm of his words. Lu Guang huffs. Childish. “But we should go check it out while it’s still new! The crowds are what make it so hype. I’m dying to try their Tiger Taro Milk Tea!” 

“The drink will still be there a week from now, won’t it? It isn’t going anywhere.”

They stop swaying. “Lu Guang…”

Lu Guang pauses in his thoughts. He steals a glance at his partner who’s draped on his shoulder—or, what is left of him. All he sees is a deflated balloon with a black tuft of hair wearing a blue and yellow jersey jacket. He’s pouting at him, his eyes filled with an exaggerated puppy dog look overlaying a subtle layer of genuine hurt that Lu Guang won’t go with him this very second.

… It really can’t be helped. Never, with Cheng Xiaoshi. 

“... I was joking. Flip the front door sign to ‘Closed.’”

“Aiyaa, Lu Guang! Find a better sense of humor!” Cheng Xiaoshi aggressively shakes his shoulders and exits the darkroom, but not before making a poor attempt to hide the stupid grin that’s made its way onto his lips. Lu Guang softly snorts in halfhearted indignance and returns his attention to the film in his hand.

Before they leave, Lu Guang finally decides. He carefully places the film in the developer solution, waits for a few minutes, then hangs it up on a string with two clothespins to dry. He covers the cup of coffee on the counter that’s long lost its slow trail of steam, then makes sure to close the door to the darkroom before following Cheng Xiaoshi outside.

xxx

Why did I agree to this?

The sun is too bright. Much too bright for Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi to be standing out in the heat of it, waiting in a line that stretches by at least twenty waiting people. A few kids nearby are crying to their father, asking when are they gonna be done and i want my boba now and god, Lu Guang loves children, he does but he is going to go insane from the pounding headache their cries are hammering into his brain. 

Standing nearby, a woman on her 9-5 taps her heel on the concrete impatiently as she sips her matcha latte and lectures someone on the phone—probably a poor employee. Like many of the other people at this shop, she must also be on her lunch break. Her heel clicking sounds like a ticking timer that’s going to go off at any moment, and it’s stressing Lu Guang out. 

Lu Guang takes a deep breath, and subtly inclines his head to look up at Cheng Xiaoshi. His partner is idly bouncing on the balls of his feet, tiptoeing to peek at the front of the line. He watches Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes sparkle with the prospect of getting to try his coveted Tiger Taro Milk Tea—a purple and brown amalgamation of sugars and flavor that will most likely taste too sweet on Lu Guang’s tongue. If Lu Guang looks hard enough, he can practically see the yellow sparkles popping and bursting in Cheng Xiaoshi’s pupils. 

Lu Guang allows himself to trace a line from Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes down to the bridge of his pointed nose, to his lips that are parted in anticipation, to his defined jawline. With something to focus on, he feels his heart slow from a painful sprint to a soothing stroll, the sounds all around him quieting to something more muffled, more comforting. Distantly, he hears Cheng Xiaoshi excitedly tell him something about how the boba shop is duck-themed. 

Yet, as he continues to gaze at Cheng Xiaoshi, he fails to notice that he’s tuned out his surroundings to the point where it’s become too quiet. And for no reason he can pinpoint, an unwelcome yet not uncommon thought suddenly snatches an opportunity to make its way into his overthinking head. 

A day may come where I could lose all of this. Lose him.

And that single thought alone, despite how noiselessly it creeps into his mind, is enough to send Lu Guang spiraling again. He suddenly wishes they’d never come out of the coziness of their photo studio to try this new boba shop. 

I don’t want to lose this.

His throat closes up, and his heart squeezes in on itself.

“Lu Guang!”

Someone hits the brakes on his careening train of thought, and he grasps the chance to breathe again as his line of sight is overcome with pale yellow. 

Lu Guang blinks to refresh his brain like it’s a computer tab—perhaps he’s truly crashed from the mental stress of it all to the point where his mind has conjured up a literal Yellow Screen of Death™—but he’s still staring at a vast field of pale yellow. He raises his hand to push the piece of fabric his partner has shoved onto his head out of his eyes, and he’s faced with the sight of Cheng Xiaoshi once more. 

Cheng Xiaoshi, wearing the most ridiculous yellow bucket hat Lu Guang has ever seen with the face of a blushing duck. It dons an obnoxiously bright orange, puckered beak plastered onto the front. It takes Lu Guang a second to realize he’s been cursed (blessed?) with the affliction of wearing one too. Cheng Xiaoshi grins goofily at him, rubbing his nose. 

“We’re part of the first 100 people to come to the shop on opening day, so while you were off in dreamland, they gave us some free merch! I told you coming on opening day would be worth it, hehe! I know you’ve been looking for a new bucket hat recently. Eh, eh?” He shoves his arm twice into Lu Guang’s side, hooking their elbows together. 

Lu Guang blinks again. Cheng Xiaoshi’s grin subsides into a frown of concern. 

“... Guang Guang? Are you okay?” 

When Lu Guang doesn’t answer, he watches as Cheng Xiaoshi’s face flips through all ten stages of grief before finally settling on guilt. He looks like a wet puppy with his downturned mouth and the brim of his duck hat that’s starting to droop. “... is all of this too much? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced you out here with me. You can… you can go back to the studio. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll order it for you.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s worry brings Lu Guang back to his senses, and his heart squeezes again—this time, with an unspeakable fondness for this idiot that he will never be able to find the fitting words to describe. Lu Guang turns away to look back at the line in front of him with a huff.

“... It’s nothing. You look dumb in that hat.” He raises his hand to his lips and attempts to smother his laugh with a cough, failing miserably. Not that he tried very hard. 

Despite everything he says, Lu Guang knows Cheng Xiaoshi to be much more perceptive than people give him credit for. A brief flicker of hesitation flashes in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes. Yet, as if he’s sensed it’s what Lu Guang needs right now, Cheng Xiaoshi immediately returns to normal and shoves his way into Lu Guang’s space, pushing a finger into his cheek. 

“Lu Guang, you wound me! Besides, the guy who parades around in a white cat-eared hat when we go on vacation has no room to talk!” Lu Guang pushes him off his shoulder, but begrudgingly readjusts the duck hat on his own head to fit himself better and hooks his arm back into Cheng Xiaoshi’s. The sense of normalcy grounds him.

“That’s different.” 

You bought it because it reminded you of me.

Cheng Xiaoshi excitedly pulls out his phone so they can immortalize their horrifyingly stupid duck bucket hats in a selfie. In the meantime, Lu Guang finally finds a place to settle himself comfortably into the rushing energy of the moment beside his partner, subtly but warmly smiling into the camera. 

Their cups come with squeaky little rubber ducks that sit on top of the lid. If anyone sees Lu Guang taking a picture of Cheng Xiaoshi’s smile as he tries his drink for the first time and pocketing his phone to gaze at it later, no they do not. 

When Lu Guang takes a sip of Cheng Xiaoshi’s Tiger Taro Milk Tea in the shade of a nearby tree, he verifies that Cheng Xiaoshi’s wants are indeed much too sweet for his taste. Lu Guang relishes the aftertaste of the sticky sugar anyway, and passes his own drink for Cheng Xiaoshi to sip. 

When Cheng Xiaoshi tries Lu Guang’s Oolong Milk Tea with 50% sugar and teases him for having the boring tastes of an old man, Lu Guang rolls his eyes and tells him he has the garish tastes of an 8-year-old. Cheng Xiaoshi’s protests ring loudly in his ears as he turns away to sip on his oolong. 

As they settle into a comfortable lull in their conversation to watch the hustle and bustle of people going by, Lu Guang idly thinks that maybe noise and sugar rushes feel better when Cheng Xiaoshi is there. 

You make these things worth bearing. 

And he would never let this life go for anything. 

xxx

Cheng Xiaoshi takes another sip of his second Tiger Taro Milk Tea for the week as he bounds down the steps of their shared studio, eager to show Lu Guang a cute cat video he found on his feed. “Lu Guang~!” he singsongs, making his way to the last step on the staircase. 

He looks around the shop. No one is here. 

He must be in the darkroom, taking my job away from me while I’m gone. Cheng Xiaoshi laughs to himself at the thought, and begins to approach the darkroom. I told him to leave developing the photos up to me!

Before Cheng Xiaoshi can make it there, the door to the darkroom opens as Lu Guang walks out of it, a curled hand placed on his chin in thought. Cheng Xiaoshi quickly pitter patters up to him, bouncing in anticipation of seeing Lu Guang’s face subtly light up when he watches the cat video. 

“Hey, Lu Guang, look at—”

“Pft.”

Cheng Xiaoshi stops. The noise fills the smallest space in the room it possibly can, but Cheng Xiaoshi’s ears have long been attuned to hearing it anyway. He takes a closer look at Lu Guang and realizes that his stoic partner is laughing at something. He tracks Lu Guang’s gaze to something in his hand: a developed film. 

Now Cheng Xiaoshi has to see what’s in that photo that is making his partner laugh without him. Cat video long forgotten, he peers over his shoulder and furrows his brows. 

A cup of coffee on the counter, with a translucent white trail of steam rising from its surface. It’s a calming photo, a shot that very much strikes Cheng Xiaoshi as the kind of moment that Lu Guang would find worthy of capturing in his memory. 

At least, it would be. If there wasn’t a phantom-like creature looming behind the cup, crashing through the door of their photo studio with a huge, shouting smile full of teeth and waving its arms around in a manner not unlike a malfunctioning helicopter. It’s a blur of blue and yellow with a tuft of black at the top of its head, and suddenly Cheng Xiaoshi remembers the exact moment this photo was taken all too well—about less than a week ago just before they shared sips of a new milk tea together at a shop down the street.

Cheng Xiaoshi almost drops his cup in his haste to point at the offending creature. “Oi, is that me?!”

Lu Guang softly laughs again and takes one of the magnets off of their fridge to place the photo there. The photo attaches onto the door with a resolute click, and just like that, Lu Guang schools his face back to his usual neutral expression. 

“I told you you probably ruined the picture.” 

Lu Guang makes as if to walk past Cheng Xiaoshi, pauses, then leans over to steal a sip of his milk tea. Cheng Xiaoshi’s breath hitches as he watches Lu Guang straighten back up after he’s gotten his fill, daintily smacking his lips together to get at the lingering traces of syrup and caffeinated drops on his mouth. 

Before Cheng Xiaoshi’s snapped out of it, Lu Guang’s already settled onto their sofa, curling up with a book. Cheng Xiaoshi almost trips over himself to rush into the living room after him—a whipping whirlwind of amusement and protest at the audacity of Lu Guang to laugh at him, put the mortifying photo on their fridge for them to remember forever, and steal Cheng Xiaoshi’s milk tea that is supposedly too sweet for him anyway.

 “And you call me childish?!”

Chapter Text

For the 21st time tonight—yes, he’s begun to count—Cheng Xiaoshi turns onto his side in his bed, sighing out of his nose as quietly as he can so as not to disturb his partner who’s softly snoring in the bunk bed above him. 

He doesn’t remember exactly which nightmare woke him up this time. With all of the dives back in time he and his partner have done for their clients, his mind bears many painful memories—both his own and from the lives of others. As such, Cheng Xiaoshi often jerks awake from nightmares without remembering which memory had woken him up in the first place. All he knows is that his heart has been unsettled enough to the point where sleep has once again danced its way out of his grasp for the night. 

Ugh. What is that thing American people do to fall asleep, again? 

Cheng Xiaoshi racks his brain for a minute, then remembers. He tries his best to conjure up the image of a wooden fence, then imagines fluffy white cats leaping over it one at a time. 

One.

Two.

Three.

… That’s it. He has to get up. He doesn’t want to wake Lu Guang, but he has to do something, anything to fill his mind with something other than this horrible, horrible silence. He doesn’t like the prospect of where his mind will go if he doesn’t, so he peels the blanket off of himself and leaves the bedroom. 

Sleep is for the weak, anyway. 

Regardless, he winces when the door creaks just a little too much behind him, and breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t hear Lu Guang wake up. 

xxx

Why did I come down here?

Everything is dark. Much too dark for Cheng Xiaoshi to be feeling his way down the steps of their studio, flinching as his foot misses a step by half an inch and he almost takes a tumble. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, Cheng Xiaoshi walks past the counter and spots his half-empty cup of milk tea from earlier that afternoon sitting on the counter. It gathers condensation on the sides, and a thin layer of transparent water sits atop the milk. 

Lu Guang is gonna lecture me about that in the morning. Cheng Xiaoshi cannot bring himself to care in spite of what that lecture will bring, and ignores the cup to bring himself towards his destination. 

After everything they’ve been through, the darkroom should unsettle him. In fact, most would find the red light that covers the entirety of its walls oppressive. Yet, as he pushes the door to the darkroom open, the shade of blood strangely settles onto him with the familiar comfort of the aged, gray weighted blanket Lu Guang likes to pull out of their closet in the winter months. 

“Hm… I should develop the photo that the old lady next door asked for earlier today,” Cheng Xiaoshi murmurs to no one in particular. 

He pulls on his blue gloves and settles into his routine: pouring the developing solution, placing the photo in the tray with tweezers, and shaking the tray every so often to agitate the film. As he clips the newly developed photo to the string above the table, one of the finished photos catches his attention. Cheng Xiaoshi unclips the clothespins that bind the photo to the string, holding it up to the light to take a closer look. 

It’s a photo he and Lu Guang had taken a week before at the boba shop down the street. Cheng Xiaoshi is holding the camera and leaning back, closing his eyes and puckering his lips in an obnoxious kissy face as he turns towards Lu Guang. Lu Guang is leaning away from him, deadpanning Cheng Xiaoshi with his eyes as he sips his oolong milk tea. Cheng Xiaoshi lightly chuckles to himself at the memory of that moment, finding solace in the sound of their laughs echoing in his mind. 

Guang Guang, an oolong milk tea with 50% sugar? Seriously, you have the tastes of an old man!

And you have the garish tastes of an 8 year old. Now shut up and let me enjoy my drink.

Yet, as Cheng Xiaoshi traces his finger across Lu Guang’s face, he fails to notice that the sounds in his head have become too loud. At the sight of his partner, his memory of their boba date morphs into something uglier in his mind: a bloody knife in pale hands and a body lying across the couch in their living room, then a merciless laugh. 

And just like that, for no reason he can pinpoint at all, he remembers the nightmare that had woken him up. A cold chill runs down his spine.

I almost lost all of this. Lost him.

Flashes of dark red dot his vision, and Cheng Xiaoshi drops the photo. He hurriedly sits in the corner of the darkroom and leans against the leg of the table, squeezing his eyes shut as phantom shouts ring in his ears. 

Lu Guang?! Lu Guang!

Cheng Xiaoshi…? What happened? Why is Lu Gua—

It’s okay, Qiao Ling. It’s okay.

Hurry! Save him!

By the way, how is Lu Guang now?

Rescue failed. He died.

As memories begin to flood his veins faster than he can forget them, Cheng Xiaoshi suddenly wishes he’d never come down here. The red filling the darkroom loses its usual comfort and ruthlessly presses itself further into his eyelids. He tries to grasp onto the memory of their boba date like it’s his lifebuoy, but his hand slips and he’s falling deeper into his spiral. 

I don’t want to lose this. 

His throat closes up, and his body trembles with the weight of himself and a hundred pasts. 

“Cheng Xiaoshi?”

Someone pulls him out of the whirlpool he’s drowned himself in, and he grasps the chance to breathe again as the sea of red is washed away with a soft white. 

The door quietly opens. Like clockwork, Lu Guang pads into the darkroom in his cotton cat slippers, rubbing his eyes tiredly even as they seek out Cheng Xiaoshi. Every night this happens, Lu Guang manages to find him no matter how hard he tries to shut himself away—he’s even managed to find Cheng Xiaoshi dribbling his troubles away at a nearby basketball court before. Yet every single time he finds him, Cheng Xiaoshi is taken by surprise. At the sight of the tuft of white hair poking through the door, his heart betrays him, and the heaviness on his shoulders lifts with relief. 

Cheng Xiaoshi laughs, voice thick, as he hurriedly swipes away his tears and stands up. “S-seriously, Lu Guang, where do you get your 6th sense from? I’ll get a heart attack and die one day if you keep sneaking up on me like that!”

Without pause, Lu Guang reaches out to Cheng Xiaoshi. His fingertips gently glide across the shadows under Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, delicately wiping his tears away. Before Cheng Xiaoshi can think better of it, he’s leaning his cheek further into Lu Guang’s palm. 

“... You’re going to get snot all over yourself.” His eyes soften before his voice lowers. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“...”

When Cheng Xiaoshi pleads the fifth with a quiet sniffle, Lu Guang sighs and takes his hand. He leads him out of the darkroom, shuts off the red light, and closes the door behind him, the photo on the floor long forgotten. One of them will pick it up in the morning, eventually. 

Lu Guang silently gestures towards the counter. If he notices the half-finished cup of milk tea, he chooses not to say anything. Cheng Xiaoshi pushes himself up to sit on its surface, watching as his partner opens the cabinet and pulls out two cups: the white cat mug Cheng Xiaoshi bought at the weekend flea market to tease him, and the black dog mug Lu Guang got as, quote-on-quote, “revenge.” 

Silence settles over them as Lu Guang stirs two cups of coffee: one black with half a packet of sugar, and one mocha with two packets and the remaining sugar in Lu Guang’s opened one—just the way Cheng Xiaoshi likes it. 

“It’s 2:30 AM and you’re making coffee? We’re both gonna regret this in the morning, you know,” Cheng Xiaoshi jokes, despite himself. 

Lu Guang ignores him, pouring the last of the sugar into Cheng Xiaoshi’s mug. He hands the black dog mug to him and takes a sip from his own white cat mug. 

As Cheng Xiaoshi drinks, he feels a comforting warmth spread throughout his body as the mocha travels down his throat and settles into his stomach. He can hear nothing but the sounds of their sipping, but he finds the quiet an uplifting feeling. He nurses the cup in his hands as his throat closes up again, this time with an unspeakable fondness for his partner that he will never find the words worthy of describing. 

He wordlessly reaches out for Lu Guang’s mug. Despite everything that comes out of Lu Guang’s mouth, Cheng Xiaoshi knows Lu Guang to be much more attuned to him than he lets on. A brief flicker of hesitation flashes in Lu Guang’s eyes, as he knows that Cheng Xiaoshi is going to hate his coffee. Yet, he also knows that sharing and physical touch are Cheng Xiaoshi’s love languages. As if he’s sensed it’s what his partner needs right now, Lu Guang steps into Cheng Xiaoshi’s space and places the mug in his hands as an offering. 

When Cheng Xiaoshi takes a sip of Lu Guang’s mug, he verifies that Lu Guang’s wants are much too bitter for his taste. Cheng Xiaoshi relishes the aftertaste of the pitch black coffee on his tongue anyway, and passes his own mug for Lu Guang to sip. 

When Lu Guang tries Cheng Xiaoshi’s mug and chides him with an I don’t know how you can drink this, Cheng Xiaoshi softly laughs and retorts, I could say the same thing for you, dumbass. Cheng Xiaoshi takes pride in the subtle smile that crops up on Lu Guang’s lips at his jab, knowing that his partner doesn’t give those out to just anyone. 

He sets his coffee aside and bends down to lean his forehead against Lu Guang’s, wrapping his arms around his waist and closing his eyes. Lu Guang lets him, placing his hands on Cheng Xiaoshi’s thighs. With that sensation anchoring him, Cheng Xiaoshi finally finds a place to settle himself comfortably into the silence of the moment beside his partner, letting the last of his tears fall onto Lu Guang’s cheeks. 

As they rest at the counter with their foreheads against each other, Lu Guang standing in between his legs, Cheng Xiaoshi idly thinks that maybe quiet and bitter aftertastes feel better when Lu Guang is there. 

You make these things easier to bear. 

And he would never let this life go for anything. 

xxx

Lu Guang hums as he rubs his hand up and down Cheng Xiaoshi’s back. Sometime throughout their night, the two of them have made their way onto the green couch in their living room. Cheng Xiaoshi’s nose is buried into his neck. Their mugs sit beside each other on the coffee table, steam still slowly rising from their surfaces. 

He hears Cheng Xiaoshi whisper—a rare occurrence that only happens during these hours. 

“... I don’t think the coffee’s working. I might actually fall asleep.”

“I won’t stop you.”

“Lu Guang.”

“Mm?”

“You’ll still be here, right?”

Lu Guang’s hand pauses. 

“Yes.”

A longer pause. Lu Guang doesn’t mind—in the end, they will always wait for each other. 

“... okay.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s breathing slows. Despite himself, Lu Guang hesitates before letting his own question escape free into the night air.

“Are you still here with me?”

Cheng Xiaoshi softly laughs. “It’s been five seconds. I’m still awake, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“... of course,” Lu Guang whispers. His breath hitches as Cheng Xiaoshi nuzzles his nose further into his neck and lets out a long, bones-deep sigh that tickles Lu Guang’s skin. He hears Cheng Xiaoshi’s breathing slow even more until eventually, he’s slumped against Lu Guang’s chest. 

The way Cheng Xiaoshi is curled against him like a shrimp has to be uncomfortable for his neck and back, and he just knows his partner is going to whine about this in the morning. Lu Guang doesn’t move to wake him anyway, as he tries to keep his promises. He revels in the scent of coffee drifting by his nose and the feeling of Cheng Xiaoshi’s soft, throaty rumbles thrumming against his skin. 

“... and you make fun of me for snoring.”