Archive of Our Own

Hm… Elephant?

Xie Lian cocked his head to the right a bit more, and squinted his eyes at the water stain looming overhead on the ceiling.

No… more like a bunny rabbit. Bunny rabbit with a piece of celery.

He shut his right eye and turned his head as far to the left as he could while still keeping the amorphous shape in his vision, trying to ignore the shiver of discomfort down his spine as his wet hair clung to the thin pillowcase under his head.

Now it’s a… um…

Xie Lian puzzled fruitlessly a little longer, before relenting with a huff and sitting up. It was a very nice, very large stain, but there was only so much that his imagination could do with it at a certain point. He guessed he could play another few rounds of I Spy with himself… Sadly, with the motel’s cable out and dodgy wifi at best, Xie Lian was afforded few other options for passing the long winter’s night alone in his room. Not that he was complaining! It had been very gracious of the motel to offer him the room at all, even if it was significantly worse for wear– and realistically, he supposed that was part of what made giving it away free of charge so easy to do. That, and tonight instilling them with more charitable spirit than usual. ‘The season of giving,’ and all that… 

But honestly– leave it to Xie Lian to get stranded by his broken-down van during the blizzard of the decade, in the middle of heaven knows where on Christmas Eve.

Even he had to laugh bitterly to himself to think of it. This was the kind of bad luck that screenwriters made colossal, commercialized fortunes writing about every year. Next thing he knew, someone would come strolling in with the last will and testament of some long-lost relative, informing Xie Lian of the cozy bed and breakfast he had just inherited under some Hallmark-worthy conditions, ones that always involved an orphan, or a dog, or a tender-hearted lumberjack with a Santa hat and washboard abs on full display in sub-zero temperatures.

Xie Lian winced as an errant spring jabbed through the mattress and prodded him in the butt, then winced again at its cartoonishly loud creaking beneath his attempts to readjust. It could be considered silly to wish he was back in his van as opposed to a real building with a bed, but Xie Lian was proud to report that most of his friends were… well, maybe not wowed, but at least pleasantly surprised at the conditions of his traveling home. 

Like many, Xie Lian had scraped the bottom of the barrel for rent money for so long that he was coming up with more wood shavings than cash, hardly suitable for a housing market that required quadruple digits as a starting price. Try as he might, the best he could ever offer a landlord was monthly rent and his best word; he couldn’t blame a single one of them for selecting more reliable candidates. One day, after his housing arrangements had fallen through for the third time in a month, he’d been forced to shove aside his piles of repairman tools and wedge a twin mattress into the back of his beat-up work van for the night. 

Maybe it had been the comfort of such a small, private space, or the lack of inconsiderate neighbors, or the mere knowledge that Xie Lian would never have to worry about waking up to an eviction notice from a car he owned… But the next morning, Xie Lian had cheerfully packed up all the belongings he couldn’t do without and donated the rest, stopped at the library to print out a list of 24-hour truck stops he could safely park in overnight, and never looked back.

Now, a few years down the line, Xie Lian had patched together quite the little apartment for himself in that beloved old tin can on wheels: the interior was lined with scrap-wood shelves, complete with salvaged buckle straps to secure his many books and boxes in place; his twin bed fit as neatly in the back as if it was made to measure and, with the addition of a body pillow or two along one side, transformed into a very suitable modular couch; and the ceiling was adorned in battery-operated string lights, secured by half of a roll’s worth of package tape. The van itself was hardly a vision, all chipped paint and fender-bender battle scars, but the old girl still ran well in spite of her towering mileage. Plus, now Xie Lian could split his income into three neat categories: food, gas, and van repair. Sure, some of his fix-ups had to get a bit… creative at times, but his ingenuity and determination had never steered him wrong before.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped the steering wheel from steering him wrong– tonight, of all nights, in the worst white-out snowstorm Xie Lian had seen in quite some time. He honestly counted himself lucky that the road was completely barren of drivers, and the only thing he’d skidded and slid into was a grimy, half-frozen snowbank and not oncoming traffic. However, in his desperation, he’d foolishly given the van too much gas, revving hard against the whirring of the tires wedged hopelessly into snow and slush– and then, with one great thump from beneath the hood and the wheedling hiss of its dying breath, Xie Lian’s van finally shuddered past the veil.

Xie Lian had taken the necessary moment to grieve her passing, knocking his head against the steering wheel with a groan of dismay– and then, with no other choice, bundled up and set off in the direction of the truck stop he’d been driving to, tramping through snow drifts as high as his knees and squinting through the relentless, dizzying swirl of snow against the pitch black. Xie Lian hadn’t grown up in a home that celebrated Western holidays, but he always thought Christmas Eve was supposed to be serene and peaceful, nowhere near as action-packed as this had been so far.

He supposed he had a bit of that fabled holiday magic to thank for his safe arrival at the truck stop, and for the empathy of the grizzled tow trucker that stopped in shortly after on his way home for the evening. Xie Lian thanked him profusely all the way to his nearly-buried van, all the way to the tow yard, and all the way to the cheapest motel the trucker could think of off the top of his head; he'd given Xie Lian a curt, but not unkind send-off at the motel entryway with some muttered comment about “Well… It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” Similarly, the motel receptionist took one look at Xie Lian’s soggy handful of crumpled bills (mostly fives, but Xie Lian swore there was a twenty in there somewhere), and simply handed him a key with its number nearly scraped off and a pitying, “Merry Christmas, mister.”

So Xie Lian was grateful, really, he was… He just couldn’t help but wish that that holiday magic had extended to the shower’s temperature and water pressure.

Another experimental click of the TV remote confirmed Xie Lian’s earlier assessment with a burst of furious static. He turned the TV back off promptly with a wince, and flopped over to his side to reach for his phone, trying to avoid the damp spot his drying hair had left on the pillow. Nothing to do but slip under the thin blankets and bore himself to sleep. Thankfully, the electricity was still operational, so he could count on a fully charged phone by the morning– he would call the tow trucker as early as seemed polite on a holiday, and see what he could do about starting the van back up. If he couldn’t manage that, then…

Xie Lian suppressed a shiver of something other than the persistent chill. The best he could do was keep himself distracted until he had enough information to fret about.

His lips puffed out in an absent-minded sigh as he swiped across his horrendously cracked screen. Messages: no one in the area to text for a rescue mission, even if they would be free tonight. Photos: hardly any storage left, but he guessed he could look back at some videos from college days. Calculator: eh, practicing his times tables could be fun, maybe?

Just as he moved to swipe back for some good old fashioned arithmetic, a hot pink and white logo caught Xie Lian’s eye. His eyes narrowed as he identified its signature flame silhouette.

“Huh… so that’s where all my storage went. I thought I already got rid of that…” Xie Lian mumbled, thumb hovering over the Tinder app Shi Qingxuan had installed for him during his last visit. ‘If you’re gonna travel so much,’ they’d insisted with a glittering wink, abusing their platform heels to hold Xie Lian’s phone high out of his reach as the app installed, ‘you may as well fuck around while you’re at it!’

The app didn’t see anywhere near the amount of use that Shi Qingxuan clearly hoped for– people didn’t really use a service like that just to chat, and Xie Lian couldn’t fathom a meet-up with a possible fling that he could confidently cap off with “Wanna come back to mine?” Eugh. He was cringing just at the thought of it. 

Now, the app was just taking up space on his phone, probably draining his precious battery life. His thumb suspended just over the little flame, burning pink, fun, and flirty on the screen despite being striated across with the web of cracks. He should get rid of it, really. There was no one to talk to, anyway. Anyone who wanted to hear the sob story from a bad holiday movie could get it by turning on whatever TV was closest to them, with marginally better production value.

Alright. Time to be realistic, Xie Lian. Delete it.

His thumb hovered.

Right now. Riiiiiight… Now. Go.

Xie Lian pursed his lips.

…

“Oh, why not.”

Xie Lian knew he had no right to expect much, and honestly didn’t. Still, it was hard to suppress that amused exasperation he felt while skimming through just the kinds of profiles that had driven him off this app the last time he’d used it, who knew how long ago. An avid fisherman here– whoa, very avid, okay, next… A bodybuilder there– oh dear, as a trained martial artist, Xie Lian had to say the size of those arm veins looked a bit troubling, actually. Maybe I could match with him and just advise him to see his doctor… A so-called ‘Love-Hunter General’ by the name of Pei Ming, and Xie Lian was getting the sense that maybe this wasn’t the crowd for friendly chit chat…

Then, like a bolt from the blue, Xie Lian’s dismissive swiping halted in its tracks. 

The profile on his screen now boasted the side view of a man, his back partly turned to the camera as he gazed off somewhere to the side. He looked tall. Could Xie Lian say that, if all he had to go on was pixels? The pixels were telling Xie Lian he was tall. Tall, broad in the shoulders, dressed in a sleek black leather jacket and red turtleneck, with tousled dark hair accentuating the sharp line of his nose, the angle of his brow… most of all, the offset colors of his eyes: one deep black, one a ghostly red like that of a white rabbit. Handsome, the pixels said. Xie Lian found he agreed very, very strongly.

He swallowed to soothe his suddenly very dry throat, and scrolled carefully down the profile.

Hua Cheng, 27. More artsy photos, both in the stylistic and literal senses: in some, the young man dazzled in fashionable evening wear, christened with silver jewelry and a blood-red suit; others featured him leaning against sweeping, fantastical murals in such a self-assured manner that they had to be his own work. There was even a tasteful gym shot, to speak to the more obvious uses for a dating app: not too suggestive, just muscular arms and toned thighs and a sliver of pale skin winking below the hem of his fitted workout shirt, emulating ten times the charisma of all the others combined in little more than a hint of smug suggestion. And tattoos– lots of tattoos.

Xie Lian’s eyes widened at the sight; he started to take in a soft gasp, and choked on a cough instead. Okay, so the swallow from before hadn’t been of any help, but he couldn’t be blamed for the dry weather. Yeah, the weather, he assured himself as he swiftly swiped back to this ‘Hua Cheng’s’ main photo. That’s what it is.

Sadly, the first picture had no less mercy on him. Xie Lian nibbled on his thumbnail as he cast his eyes over it again, a bit too starstruck to curb his own ogling. It couldn’t be helped; Xie Lian had never seen someone so thoroughly striking. The set of his brow, the contrast of that stark black ink licking and swirling against his skin, the stylish poise in every image…

All that beauty, and yet… not a single smile to be found.

Xie Lian’s heart pounded, which served to tether him to reality a bit. “Ah–!” he sputtered to himself, swiping a hand over his face as though there was anyone in the room to hide from. “Oh, jeez, haha– what am I doing…?”

What, indeed– this guy was so far out of Xie Lian’s league that they were playing entirely different sports, for heaven’s sake! Even if not, a man like that was surely out at a glitzy holiday party, or celebrating somewhere warm and comforting with family, or cuddling up with someone special to watch the snow fall…

He squeezed his eyes shut with an embarrassed laugh that was definitely louder than it should have been, and started fumbling with his phone to close the app. Just two presses against the home button, and a hasty swipe away to clear the tab–

The phone buzzed in his hand: one prolonged, dutiful pulse. Xie Lian blinked his eyes open and squinted at the screen in confusion. He was far from tech-savvy, but he didn’t think that phones did that when one closed an app…

‘Liked!’

Xie Lian froze, his expression going slack with shock at the cruel mockery that the app had disguised as an affirmative message. He– he swore he’d hit the home button– and yeah, the whole screen was pretty busted up from the time he’d accidentally backed over his phone with his van, but it still worked most of the time–!

A wave of pure icy dread coursed over Xie Lian’s person as he recalled that long pulse at the moment he’d swiped his finger across the screen– and oh, he hadn’t even been looking…!

Oh, no… Did I…? Oh heavens, tell me I didn’t…!

PING!

Xie Lian yelped at the sound of the sudden notification, startling so much that he nearly dropped the phone; he’d been about to shove it under his pillow and then simply knock himself out so he could sleep straight through the mortification. However, it seemed the message shining cheekily on the screen wasn’t going to grant him the chance to hide.

‘You matched!’

The storm whistled powerfully outside, the lamplight flickered as the motel electricity buckled momentarily under its force– and Xie Lian blinked at his phone in slack, dumbfounded shock. 

“... Huh?”

Hua Cheng scowled at the tiny, but suspicious shadow on the living room ceiling. God, that had better not be a water stain– not after all the money he’d shelled out to ensure the roof wouldn’t leak this winter.

Well– not like anyone’s gonna come out and look at it before New Year’s, anyway. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a grumble and let his head fall back against the arm of the leather couch, resolving to ignore it until he got an unexpected shower. Make no mistake, Hua Cheng liked the peace and quiet that came with the iron-clad defense of a holiday just as much as the next person. He just liked it a hell of a lot more when it suited his needs. Christmas Eve was a guaranteed night off, and for that Hua Cheng was grateful, but that was about as deep as the meaning ran. At least he could count on not being bothered by clients for the next week or so– maybe an errant email or two between the dwindling days of December and the new year, but today’s brilliant minds had invented the Do Not Disturb feature for a reason.

The cushions squeaked slightly under his weight as he lazily stretched out along the full length of the extensive sectional; when one was as tall as Hua Cheng, there was no skimping on accommodating furniture. He’d paid good money to redo the entire house in a similar fashion as soon as he’d bought it. Once a frumpy and outdated home to match the elderly couple who’d lived in it for decades, it had undergone an extreme transformation to account for Hua Cheng’s tastes. He couldn’t claim much patience for compromising his preferences anymore– he’d had enough of that for a lifetime. 

Still, he had enough of a heart to feel a twinge of shame when accepting the keys from the old couple; they’d smiled those wrinkly, dentured smiles and patted his hand just like he was their own grandson, earnestly wishing him the best with the house and encouraging him to take good care of it. Hua Cheng had smiled politely and thanked them, saving his guilt for when their moving truck was out of sight and he’d given the okay to his contractor to start gutting the place. Now, it was all crisp, modern elegance: sleek, sharp edges, dark-stained wood beams criss-crossing the lofted ceiling, fashionable black marble counters and mantelpieces, spotless glass stove tops and stainless steel appliances, a pristine electric fireplace, and towering floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city and far-off mountainside to die for. What the home had lost in comfort, it had made up for tenfold in style; Hua Cheng could bounce a coin off of pretty much any surface. That was good. Hard surfaces suffered less damage over time.

Still, it did get pretty cold, especially on stormy winter nights like these. Hua Cheng flung a hand toward the side table behind his head, feeling blindly for the remote that controlled the fireplace. Maybe he should poke around online for a softer carpet, just so the floor was warmer… Ah, but those were such a bitch to keep clean.

Hua Cheng clicked his tongue in dismissal. Fuck it, he’d just put on some socks. Cold feet never killed anyone. Above his head, his fingers brushed against a familiar smooth shape, and flexed to tug one end close enough to grasp it. After he adjusted the heating, he’d look to see if any Chinese restaurants were daring enough to send out deliveries in this weather, for the nostalgia factor if nothing else…

PING!

The shape under his fingertips buzzed suddenly. Hua Cheng furrowed his brow and craned his neck to look at the nightstand upside-down, finding his hand wrapped around a wider shape than he’d been looking for– ah, so he’d grabbed his phone, and not the fireplace remote. And he’d gotten a notification on what was supposed to be a guaranteed night off. Fucking perfect.

Hua Cheng begrudgingly remembered the calming exercises he’d been recommended in therapy, and released a slow breath through his nose as he checked the screen. One message, as expected, from…

“Oh, shit…” Hua Cheng muttered, grimacing at the hot pink widget for the Tinder app. God, he kept forgetting to delete that thing. For a split second, he considered doing just that. He didn’t feel in the mood to entertain the glow of that coy little flame when he’d been burned or bored by it so many times before.

But still, his therapist had encouraged him to practice more patience.

Hua Cheng took another breath, and tapped on the app with no small amount of reluctance. He supposed the least he could do was tell whoever had messaged him sorry, but he wasn’t interested, and then Hua Cheng could get on with the rest of his solitary night distraction-free–

The screen zoomed in on the flame as the app opened, swiftly expanding into its homepage and revealing the latest round of ‘fun-loving, cute singles in your area’– and Hua Cheng, a man who was very hard to surprise, was stopped short by the very first profile.

Before him was a photo of a man, blushing face and long chestnut-brown hair bundled up by what appeared to be a hand-knit scarf, if the wild variety of colors and stray ends of yarn were any indication. His features were gentle, his eyes a warm brown, just the sort that turned pure gold in the right light– the sort Hua Cheng had once liked to paint, back when he still painted for pleasure. In the photo, those eyes were squinted in laughter, the man’s sunny smile complete with picture-perfect dimples right on either side of those soft lips. At least, Hua Cheng assumed they were soft. Honestly, someone like that couldn’t look so pretty and not have soft lips. It was just the way of things.

Hua Cheng’s heart had oscillated between being a violent and mechanical thing all his life– but now, it stilled in his chest, like a cat cautiously exposing its own belly. He tilted his head thoughtfully, and began looking through the profile.

Xie Lian, 34. More photos, mostly candids, none of them remotely flirtatious in nature– and yet, Hua Cheng was immediately, hopelessly ensnared by each one. From the man’s grin of triumph beaming next to the gnarliest loaf of homemade bread Hua Cheng had ever seen, to blurry selfies of him mid-hike atop vast, misty hillsides, to him perched cheerily on the hood of some van that had been visibly beaten to hell and back… Hua Cheng couldn’t say he’d seen such a genuine smile in a long, long time, possibly ever. It was a joyfully infectious thing, even through a phone screen; Hua Cheng realized this as he felt the corners of his own lips tugging up faintly at the sight. The man looked… kind. Quirky, effortlessly charming. Heartwarming, in a way Hua Cheng wouldn’t have expected from a Tinder profile.

And cute. Very cute.

Hua Cheng’s thumb moved instinctively, and swiped right on pure impulse. He supposed he would always be a greedy child at heart, the kind that grabbed at what he wanted without any thought to consequences. Luckily for him, it seemed the universe was on the exact same brainwave as he was.

'You matched!'

Hua Cheng’s brows shot up, putting the surprise in ‘pleasantly surprised.’ He knew from past experience that most of the time, the newest suggestions upon opening the app always included profiles who had already liked one’s own… between that, and the sheer speed of the match, it could only mean that this ‘Xie Lian’ had beaten Hua Cheng to the punch.

That tentative smile split into an eager, slightly devilish grin, and Hua Cheng tapped right over to the chat window. There was a ridiculous backlog of unread messages glaring at him, incensed to be on the receiving end of the silent treatment. None of them got so much as a half-hearted glance. Hua Cheng was too busy making a beeline for the newest chat, readying his smoothest, most debonair opening line– only for his fingers to pause upon seeing three telltale dots, already waxing and waning in the opposite text bubble.

“Hah– okay,” Hua Cheng chuckled, for once feeling genuinely amused instead of irritated. “Getting right to business, huh…?” On anyone else, he might have called such eagerness embarrassing, borderline desperate– but something about those warm eyes and that bright, bright smile was changing Hua Cheng’s mind in real time. And really, he had to respect the guts it took to be so bold right out the gate.

The text bubble pulsed once or twice more on the screen– and disappeared. Hua Cheng blinked. Oh. Uh.

Okay, so maybe… maybe he’d read this wrong, after all…?

Then, the screen lit up again, and Hua Cheng surged back to laser-focused attention with the intensity of a dog hearing a whistle. The text bubble had returned, bopping along as the man on the other side of the chat seemed to resume typing. Hua Cheng held very still, eyes wide and locked on the screen, as if afraid to scare off the incoming message like it was some skittish animal he encountered in the wild. His caution didn’t make any difference– almost as soon as they’d arrived, the dots were gone again. 

Hua Cheng furrowed his brow, puzzled. Was he… was he being pranked? No, that couldn’t be. Surely this sweet-looking man wasn’t the type to go around messing with people, especially not on Christmas Eve– of course, that was assuming this ‘Xie Lian’ celebrated Christmas at all…

Again, before Hua Cheng could debate himself, the text bubble rematerialized like a magician’s party trick, just as miraculous and just as effective in leaving Hua Cheng utterly clueless as to its machinations. He scoffed a nervous laugh, and that was a considerable feat in and of itself: Hua Cheng, suddenly made as shy and awkward as a teenager by the promise of a message on a unused dating app from a person he’d never met.

His humbling torment wasn’t over yet, either. Over the next minute or two, Hua Cheng went from lying down, to sitting up, to pacing around the living room, to sitting down again, all the while staring obsessively at that text bubble as it disappeared and reappeared, the person behind it stopping and starting over and over– and the Hua Cheng of five minutes ago would likely have barked a vicious laugh at the thought of spending one of his guaranteed nights off being blue-balled by a fucking ‘hello’ message, if he wasn’t hanging so needily onto every second.

Eventually, he could take no more, and simply bit the bullet before those three dots could vanish again, embarrassment be damned.

Hua Cheng: hi there :)

The replying text bubble vanished right away, leaving Hua Cheng holding his breath in anticipation and cursing his choice of emoticon. A winky face would have been better… no, no, too flirty too soon. The addition of an em-dash nose would have made the whole thing much more inviting–

Xie Lian: Hello!!

Hua Cheng felt a burst of triumph light him like a fuse. It was even more potent than the day he’d slammed the door of his childhood home in his father’s ugly mug with a glorious ‘eat shit and die,’ or the feeling of endorsing the first five-figure check he’d received for one of his original works, or the rush of smug satisfaction that came with every measly deposit He Xuan wired over in a vain attempt to pay off the fortune he owed him– hell, ten times more than any of them combined. If Hua Cheng accomplished nothing else in his life, he could say he got a reply from the world’s most adorable Tinder user.

Hua Cheng: pleased to meet you, gege. i admit, i haven’t seen a profile quite like yours on here before. those action shots are very inspiring. the bread, too

Xie Lian: Oh thank you!! I like to get out and about!! And haha yes that one was my first try at sourdough..... A bit TOO sour I think LOL but still super yummy!!

Hua Cheng: oh, i’m certain of that. i’d like to have tried it myself 

Hua Cheng: i cook here and there but am hopeless when it comes to baking. gege could probably teach me a thing or two ;)

Xie Lian: Haha oh goodness Im sure that’s not true!! What do you like to cook? Id love to recipe swap if you have anything you especially enjoy :-)

Hua Cheng happily typed away, their small talk flowing so easily that he nearly forgot his anxieties from earlier. Plus, in addition to the long list of pros (pretty face, charming, texting like a grandpa, Hua Cheng could go on…), it was genuinely refreshing to have a conversation with a match who wasn’t immediately trying to jump his bones.

Xie Lian: Oh also Im so sorry for all the typing before, I was trying to figure out how to explain myself haha

Hua Cheng’s smile spread wide, a playful giggle sneaking out of the corners.

Hua Cheng: oh really? what on earth is gege’s deep dark secret? i promise i won’t tell ;)

Xie Lian’s text bubble did its little parlor trick all over again, disappearing and reappearing frantically. This time, Hua Cheng was openly giggling with delight, a mere stone’s throw from kicking his feet on the cold, hard floor. Oh, this guy was cute cute.

Xie Lian: Nothing so interesting unfortunately!! Its just that I swiped right on your profile by accident

Hua Cheng’s smile dropped like a lodestone, immediately suckerpunched in the gut with disappointment. Okay, um… Fuck. Maybe he had gotten too used to getting everything he wanted lately.

Xie Lian’s text bubble appeared again, and Hua Cheng braced himself for what was sure to be a very polite goodbye– clearly, Xie Lian had just replied to show whatever desperately lonely heart that had gone looking for company on Christmas Eve the decency of a kind rejection, and that was good of him, but still- only to be blasted with a rapid-fire series of messages, the sheer amount of typos indicating just how quickly Xie Lian was leaping to reply.

Xie Lian: OH OH NO not that I dont think youre attaactive!

Xie Lian: *attractive

Xie Lian: On the conttaty I think your e very very hanfsoem

Xie Lian: *contrary *handsome haha oops

Xie Lian: Its just that I meant to clode the all

Xie Lian: *close the app

Xie Lian: And I didnt want to give you the wriing idea

Xie Lian: *WRONG wrong idea!!! Ahhh 

Xie Lian: Sorry Hua Cheng, I never do this

Hua Cheng was laughing out loud by the third message, his previous despondency vanishing in the wake of Xie Lian’s flustered over-explanation. He rubbed a hand over his face as he caught his breath and sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees to focus fully on his response.

Hua Cheng: that’s okay gege, really, i don’t mean to put any pressure on you. we can just keep talking if you like :) 

His thumbs slowed, weighing the potential success of his next move for only a heartbeat, before he gave in to childish impulse yet again.

Hua Cheng: you can call me san lang ;)

There was a moment of pause, cut off by Xie Lian’s reply– no hemming and hawing this time, as Hua Cheng was relieved to see.

Xie Lian: Okay San Lang! What a nice name :-) Im Xie Lian!

Xie Lian: Haha but you knew that already. Duh!! :-P

Hua Cheng’s heart swelled helplessly in his chest– the urge to kick his feet was very, very strong now. He should probably give some more thought to that soft carpet idea if this was to become a trend.

Xie Lian: And yes, talking would be wonderful actually!! Ive had a bit of a whoopsie tonight so Id be very glad for the company :’-)

Hua Cheng: oh dear! what kind of whoopsie are we talking?

Admittedly, when Hua Cheng considered the implications of the term ‘whoopsie,’ he imagined a situation that ranged from ‘minor inconvenience’ at best to ‘bummer’ at worst. Something like the power going out, or the snowblower breaking down; a spat with a family member suffering from a little holiday cabin fever, or some missing ingredient throwing off Christmas dinner plans. It was safe to say he wasn’t prepared for the utter catastrophe that Xie Lian went on to detail. 

By the end of Xie Lian's tale of woe, Hua Cheng was up from the couch and walking in fretful circles around the living room again, typing furiously in reply to ensure Xie Lian was unharmed, that he was safely sheltered, that he wasn’t in any danger. Xie Lian cheerfully assured him of all three, but that hadn’t done much to set Hua Cheng’s mind at ease. It was hard to put his finger on it, but something about the casual way that Xie Lian spoke about what could have been a devastating tragedy had put a strange, protective edge in Hua Cheng. Xie Lian had nearly been in a serious accident, had come so close to wandering too far from civilization in the treacherous storm, or getting into the car of someone with ill intentions– and then, he had come to Tinder of all places, just looking for someone to talk to. No one did that if they had friends or family to call for help.

No, by all appearances, Xie Lian was completely and utterly alone. And suddenly, Hua Cheng was looking up from his phone, around at his exorbitant, empty house, thinking of Xie Lian sitting in a drafty motel room– and feeling quite irrational about the whole situation. About him- him and his candlelight eyes and his goofy typos and his kind smile.

So really, his next message hardly needed a second thought.

Hua Cheng: gege, would you like to stay over here at my place? it’s plenty warm and i have a spare room in perfect condition, plus extra clothes and good internet. i don’t want you to be uncomfortable if i can help it

The chat went silent, not even a glimpse of those dancing text bubbles to reassure Hua Cheng that Xie Lian was considering his offer. The pause stretched out long enough that Hua Cheng started panicking again, realizing a bit too late that maybe an invitation to an impromptu slumber party from a stranger on the internet was not Xie Lian’s idea of a good, safe time. 

Damnit, too much, too much… His fingers were typing again as his mind raced, searching for something, anything to assure Xie Lian that he wasn’t a complete psycho.

Hua Cheng: besides, no one should be alone on christmas eve

No sooner had the message sent than Hua Cheng physically cringed at himself, smothering his groan of disgust with one hand. He had never celebrated Christmas in his life, didn’t give half a shit about it, and he had the audacity to hijack it as an excuse to pursue his own ends? Maybe such a thing could be forgiven for any other hookup, but not here, not now. Not with Xie Lian, who just needed a friend.

The screen lit up, those tantalizing little dots appearing once more. Again, they stopped and started, as visibly tentative as he was sure Xie Lian was feeling. He had every right to be, considering the curveball Hua Cheng had so shamelessly thrown him. Eventually, the phone buzzed with his reply.

Xie Lian: San Lang thats really so kind, thank you. But tonight is very special, I dont want to take you away from your family

Hua Cheng snorted at the thought, and came to rest one hip against the back of the couch as he responded.

Hua Cheng: no family to be taken away from, gege. i’m alone tonight too. really, you’d be keeping me company

Hua Cheng: only if you want to, of course. i wouldn’t dream of pressuring you

The chat was terrifyingly quiet for a heartbeat, and another– to Hua Cheng, each one felt like a century. And then–

Xie Lian: Well if youre offering…… :-) 

Xie Lian: And it IS Christmas Eve!! Heehee

Hua Cheng broke into a beam with a feeling like pure sunshine alighting in his chest. Ever since he entered adolescence, his luck had been supernaturally good. Whether that was his own doing or the work of some divine being was unclear– but later on, Hua Cheng would have to dedicate some real time and effort to finding out who or what he had to thank for this. Maybe as his first ever New Year’s Resolution.

Hua Cheng: excellent :) send me your location and i’ll be by within the hour

By the time Xie Lian had sent over the address of the motel and they’d bid each other ‘see you soon,’ Hua Cheng was practically skipping circles around the couch, grinning like a lunatic. If his personal assistant could see him now, he’d probably be phoning Hua Cheng’s therapist for an emergency visit. Hua Cheng had no interest in giving that much thought now, as he strode toward the coat closet by the front door and started pulling out his warmest jackets, in case Xie Lian needed some extra bundling up. He felt lighter than he had in his whole life, carefree and hopeful, as giddy as… well. As a child on Christmas Eve.

That sentiment might have been a pleasant one, albeit in an odd, unfamiliar way. Instead, it struck Hua Cheng completely still with terror in the open door of the closet, arms piled with outerwear. Slowly, he turned his head with wide eyes to scan around the house, alarm bells clamoring in his head as the dreadful second half of that realization sunk in.

This place couldn’t be less festive if he’d tried, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem– except Hua Cheng had just talked quite the big game about the spirit of Christmas– had practically conned Xie Lian into trusting him on that basis– and now, all around him were Exhibits A through Z of his shameless bullshitting.

The pile of coats slipped loose from Hua Cheng’s grasp.

“... Fuck.”

These days, Hua Cheng was fortunate enough to count on life running at his own pace– this was by design. Some of his early clients had arrogantly thought they could get away with asking him to jump and expecting to hear ‘how high.’ When that attitude earned them a terminated contract with a staggering cancellation fee to boot, word spread quickly (and effectively) that Crimson Rain did not tolerate being rushed.

Suffice it to say, very little in the world could have pushed Hua Cheng into such a frenzy– nothing like the threat of making the world’s smarmiest first impression to light a yule log under his ass.

Hua Cheng threw open the refrigerator doors, cursing out loud to see them pitifully barren. He’d stupidly decided he couldn’t be bothered to cook this week, and was banking on takeout to see him through the rest of the year. Of course, that was before he knew he’d be needing a three-course Christmas dinner at the ready in order to pull this off.

He dove for the freezer and rifled through half-empty boxes of frozen dinners, littered on the bottom drawer and left to their crystallized deaths. If he was lucky, he might still have a few meal-prepped options from earlier this month, maybe something that he could pass off as an appetizer…

Blessedly, providence decided to cut him some slack, and he gave a weak laugh of relief when his numbing fingertips landed on a handful of blocks of hot and sour fish soup, the vibrant red color and chunks of white fish meat frosted over beneath the vacuum-seal plastic. Several icy clunks echoed about the pristine kitchen as Hua Cheng hurled them onto the countertop behind him, along with a few forgotten packages of frozen pork buns; it wasn’t much, but it would be hot comfort food, and it was a hell of a lot better than a half of a single-serve lasagna.

Hua Cheng whipped out his basket steamer and largest soup pot at record speed, tearing at the plastic wrappings and all but throwing the frozen food inside. Then, after cranking the stove as high as safety would allow, he moved on to the next glaring dilemma: the decor– or rather, the woeful lack thereof. The house’s hyper-modern sensibilities had suited Hua Cheng’s wealth nicely, but all its lofty architecture and imposing design hardly made for a cozy environment.

One hand impatiently swiped back some staticky hair that had fallen into Hua Cheng’s eyes as he leapt up the stairs two steps at a time, rounding the bend of the landing and forgoing a step-stool entirely to rise onto his tiptoes tug down the ceiling hatch to the attic. He sent up a prayer of thanks for his height as he successfully climbed up into the musty old rafters, and for the flash of memory that had reminded him that the old couple had left a few boxes behind when they’d left, being unable to fit them into their modest U-Haul. At the time, Hua Cheng had put on his best generous act, assuring them that it was no trouble, that he would gladly donate them at his earliest convenience– whatever would get them the hell off the property before the demolition crew arrived. 

That had been over five years ago now, but despite the heavy layer of dust and cobwebs, there they were still– and to Hua Cheng’s unabashed shout of triumph, packed to bursting with decor for a variety of holidays.

Hua Cheng didn’t bother with unpacking them neatly or bringing the boxes downstairs; a frantic glance to his watch confirmed that he only had another forty minutes to pick up Xie Lian from the motel. The idea of being a mere minute late and leading Xie Lian to wonder if he’d been stood up was enough to make Hua Cheng shudder, so hard that he nearly dropped the comical heap of Christmas and Christmas-adjacent decorations he’d stuffed his arms with. He staggered down the attic stairs, kicking the hatch back up into the ceiling with a wild flail of one foot, and fell to his knees to start scouring through the tangled pile of festivity.

The carnage that followed could only be described as a veritable Deck the Halls speedrun: Hua Cheng dashed madly about the house, nearly wiping out on the stupid, fashionable floors in his haste, strewing faux spruce garlands on anything with an archway or a hook, hurling quilts with holly leaf patterns onto couches and ruffling them in a way that he prayed would look homey and not untidy. Hollow clatters echoed through the house as he lined up rows of darling porcelain villages on every flat surface he could find, and, since even he had the sense to realize there was no getting a real tree under the current time crunch, settled for propping a plastic tree with hokey multi-colored bulb lights on a side table that he wedged in between two towering bookshelves. He even momentarily considered setting out the handmade Santa Claus stuffie he’d dug up, sizing up its dopey smile with a discerning look; ultimately he decided against it, and shoved it onto the top shelf of the linens closet for fear of giving Xie Lian nightmares.

Every doorknob got a garish red ribbon; every table got a sooty, half-burnt out cinnamon candle; every corner of the lofted ceilings that was within reach was draped with string lights long enough to rival the average anaconda. Hua Cheng hardly stopped for breath until finally, he’d emptied the pile of decorations, and his formerly stylish home looked like a Christmas Tree Shoppe had thrown up on it.

He wheezed in the middle of the dolled up living room, hands on his knees and genuinely breaking a light sweat. That was way more cardio than he was used to at this time of night–

The time–! Hua Cheng stood bolt-upright, wrist flying to his face to check his watch– shit, only twenty minutes–!

Without a second look at the havoc he’d just unleashed on his own home, Hua Cheng slid into the kitchen to kill the heat on the stove top, snatched up the pile of outerwear on the floor, and all but sprinted out the door to the garage while pulling on his peacoat and scarf. Thank God the plow truck had come through his neighborhood recently, and he didn’t have to bother with shoveling his way out. With a rumbling purr, the engine started up, and the headlights shone through the rising garage door and into the blizzard ahead, the illuminated snowflakes swirling like dancers in and out of glaring spotlights. 

Hua Cheng cranked up the heat so the car would be plenty toasty in time for his arrival, and took one more moment to type a hurried message before setting out– though, not so hurried as to miss that flutter of giddiness bubbling up inside him again.

Hua Cheng: coming to your rescue now gege ;) be there soon

He got a reply almost instantly. It made him dare to dream that Xie Lian was already packed up and waiting for him, hanging on his words. The idea alone lit a tender flame in his heart, small yet powerful enough to warm him from the inside out.

Xie Lian: Okay San Lang!! Please drive safely its really snowy out there!! Brrrr!! :-)

Hua Cheng smiled down at his phone in helpless delight. As a child and adolescent, he’d been broke, beaten, and jaded, even in the most generous of seasons. He’d never experienced anything as mythical and privileged as ‘holiday magic’ before.

Still… he couldn’t fight the hope that, maybe, he was about to.

Tick… tick… tick…

Xie Lian chewed on his thumbnail and tried to pull his gaze away from the lobby’s clock. Staring at it wouldn't make time pass any faster– a watched clock never quickens, or something like that?

He bounced on the balls of his feet a few times, the nervous energy simmering around his body looking for an outlet. In one pocket of his faded puffy jacket, Xie Lian’s fingertips fiddled with his phone. It had been about ten or fifteen minutes since Hua Cheng– San Lang, he remembered with a distant smile, had messaged him last, so Xie Lian had packed up his meager tote bag of what few belongings he’d grabbed from the van, and returned to the lobby to await his rescuer.

To think of Hua Cheng that way sent a shy trill through Xie Lian’s heart. Not only was Hua Cheng the whole package– looks, charm, gentle manners– but he was gracious enough to open his home to someone he’d never met. That kind of generosity wasn’t something Xie Lian came across every day.

Do you honestly believe that? He’s a complete stranger! This is how people get kidnapped, Xie Lian– are you trying to get kidnapped?!

Xie Lian furrowed his brow lightly at the wheedling voice of doubt in his head– always sounding suspiciously like a cartoonish combination of Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s, always piping up with the best of intentions and the worst of deliveries. For two such steadfast friends, they really were quite disillusioned people.

On the other hand, it wasn’t so much that Xie Lian believed in goodness without question. Rather more that he wanted to believe, and earn the proof of it himself.

Tick… tick…

Now Xie Lian was pacing a little ring into the lobby’s worn carpeting. Normally, he’d get embarrassed about fidgeting so much in public, but it was obvious that no one was paying attention. When he’d approached the front desk to return his key and inform the receptionist that a friend was coming to pick him up, she’d barely looked up from her magazine, merely taking it and shooting him a half-hearted twitch of a smile. Xie Lian didn’t blame her- who wanted to be working on Christmas Eve? 

Even now as the night inched closer to Hua Cheng’s arrival, they hadn’t exchanged another word. Xie Lian was busy doing his nervous dance on one end of the room, the receptionist absently flipping through glossy pages on the other, humming idly along to the Christmas music playing on the overhead speakers– some slinky little tune about Santa slipping down the chimney at the urging of an eager young woman, sounding a great deal more flirtatious than Xie Lian thought was fitting for his understanding of Santa Claus.

Xie Lian trained his ear to some of the lyrics, some of the more suggestive ones making his face twist in confusion. Had he missed something here? Wasn’t Santa supposed to be some jolly old man who made toys for children? What could be so sexy about that?

“Hah… Excuse me…” he said, turning away from the doors to face the receptionist, who was now looking up like she’d completely forgotten he was here. “What is this song called?”

Before he got his answer, Xie Lian’s long hair was swept up about his face in a sudden gust of wintry wind, blowing in from behind him and sending a chill racing up his spine. He looked quickly over his shoulder, just in time to see the motel’s double doors swing closed behind the figure that had just stepped in amidst a swirl of snowflakes. A tall, masculine figure, dressed in a handsomely fitted deep red coat that hugged his broad torso, one pale hand adjusting the charcoal-gray scarf wound about his neck, and sporting two twin swipes of blush across the most strikingly attractive face Xie Lian had ever seen via pixels– now even more overwhelming in person. 

Xie Lian stood speechless, mouth ajar, as Hua Cheng approached him, brushing stray snowflakes out of his hair with a small, questioning smile.

“Xie Lian, I presume?”

Xie Lian blinked out of his daze– oh, and now Hua Cheng was right in front of him, smiling down warmly and extending his hand to shake. Xie Lian accepted it gingerly; the fingertips and knuckles were stained a precious pink from the bitter cold, and Xie Lian had to fight hard against an irrational need to rub them between his hands.

“Ah– yes, that’s me… It’s a pleasure to meet you, San Lang,” he stammered, painting on a smile that he prayed would read as more casual than he was feeling. He didn’t imagine his chances were good, especially not when Hua Cheng smiled wider and squeezed Xie Lian’s hand gently in his. At this distance, Xie Lian could see some of those snowflakes in his hair were melting into translucent dewdrops, beading along the dramatic lines of his brows.

“The pleasure’s all mine, gege,” Hua Cheng cooed like a dove, and okay, Xie Lian was starting to see the appeal of a generous man in a red coat.

“Santa Baby.”

Xie Lian startled, whirling around to the receptionist with bulging, flustered eyes. “E-excuse me?”

She blinked slowly at him, either bored or annoyed. “The song? It’s called Santa Baby.”

Xie Lian barked a stuttering laugh, and nodded furiously. “O-oh! Yes, of course, gotcha. Thanks, I’ll, uh… I’ll listen to it sometime.”

The receptionist didn’t even bother with a reply, returning to her magazine with a sigh that suggested both boredom and annoyance. Xie Lian scrambled to collect his face with an embarrassed flush beneath his collar, and only barely caught the irritated quirk in Hua Cheng’s brow as he turned back to face him. However, it was soon gone, those mismatched eyes squinting into gleaming crescents as he released Xie Lian’s hand and took a respectful half-step backward.

“Let’s get going, gege. I did promise to rescue you, after all.” He nodded graciously to Xie Lian’s bag. “May I take that for you?”

Xie Lian grinned, but held fast to the strap on his shoulder. “Oh, no need! There’s not much in it, so it’s very light!”

That little quirk returned briefly, now casting a fretful shadow over Hua Cheng’s smile– but again, it passed as quickly as it arrived, and one hand rose to brush against the small of Xie Lian’s back while the other extended in a graceful gesture toward the front doors.

“As you wish,” Hua Cheng assured, and the rich timbre of his voice had Xie Lian shivering for a reason entirely apart from the cold. “The car’s waiting out front– heat’s already on and running. Shall we?”

Overhead, as if from some divine providence, the woman in the lobby speakers offered a final word of advice: a breathy little "hurry," as the song sidled to a sultry close. And yeah, Xie Lian couldn't say he'd ever heard the wisdom of the heavens before, nor did he think it would come in the form of an out-of-pocket Christmas song- for goodness sake, he could practically hear the wink in that one word alone- but even he wasn't fool enough to ignore a sign when he got it.

"Ah- yes, thank you, San Lang. Lead the way."

Xie Lian had a few pretty good guesses as to how well off Hua Cheng was based on the snapshots of his wardrobe alone– and yet, he wasn’t at all prepared for Hua Cheng’s car to blow even his highest estimations out of the water. As promised, humming at the curb was an exquisite, sleek black sports car that shone like a blade in the night, its headlights two pure beams cutting cleanly through the squall. Xie Lian hadn’t the slightest clue as to its make or model, and got the feeling he didn’t need to. ‘Expensive’ was the only necessary descriptor here.

Hua Cheng, ever the gentleman, stepped briskly ahead to open the door for Xie Lian and usher him into the passenger seat (the very comfortable, pre-heated passenger seat, as he was delighted to realize) before he could spend a full thirty seconds out in the cold. Xie Lian gave a small, pleased wiggle against the leather just to feel the heat soaking into his back, a luxury he hadn’t experienced since the heyday of his college years.

The cabin rocked lightly as Hua Cheng shut the driver’s door behind him and buckled up, then pulled onto the main road so carefully that Xie Lian wouldn’t have been surprised to see an impromptu ‘Baby on Board’ sticker slapped on the back windshield. For a few moments, the pair merely sat in a polite, but somewhat awkward silence: Xie Lian caught off-guard by riding in such style, and Hua Cheng seeming to put his full focus on the road. Still, Xie Lian’s curiosity won out over hesitancy before long. A timid peek over at Hua Cheng’s face, illuminated in flashing passes by oncoming headlights, revealed his strong profile, and a look that was adorably… nervous?

Xie Lian blinked, a bemused smile started to grow on his face. Hua Cheng, who had been so impossibly suave only moments before, was now drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel and chewing the inside of his cheek like it was a pick-up line he was working up the courage to drop. Cute as the notion was, he couldn’t bear to think of such a good man in any kind of discomfort– for that reason alone, Xie Lian would gladly take the first cautious step forward.

“San Lang?”

Hua Cheng blinked rapidly, seeming to snap out of thought. “Y-yes, gege? What do you need?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just…” Xie Lian assured quietly. “Um… I just wanted to say it’s okay. This is, uh… heh, this is a little weird, isn’t it?”

Hua Cheng’s shoulders stiffened momentarily, then swiftly melted away with a soft laugh, to Xie Lian’s relief.

“Hah… You have a point,” Hua Cheng admitted, stealing a sheepish glance at Xie Lian. “You’d have to be crazy to trust a complete stranger inviting you over like this.”

“Oh, is that so?” Xie Lian scoffed good-naturedly. “Well, you’d have to be crazy to let a complete stranger into your home without a second thought.”

Hua Cheng shrugged nonchalantly, with a smile that was growing more natural with each passing moment. “Well, seems like we’re both crazy, then. A match made in heaven, huh, gege?”

Xie Lian laughed openly, knocking his lopsided half-bun back against the headrest and feeling a genuine sense of comfort settle over him at the sound of Hua Cheng joining in, chuckling along as the faint sheen of ice between them thinned and broke. The car continued on into the muffled night, coasting through the snow past busy plow trucks and last-minute drivers peppering the roads– headed home for the evening, Xie Lian hoped with all his heart. Maybe he didn’t have much attachment to this holiday, but he could still wish somebody a warm, comfortable bed on a cold night. He had very nearly been bereft of that himself, and was feeling as deeply grateful for that as he was for the conversation that flowed so easily between the pair as they drove. 

They chattered like kids at a slumber party all the way, trading stories of success and failure, embarrassments and close calls, good fortune and bad. Xie Lian spent almost as much time talking as he did laughing till he was lightheaded, neither of which he’d done in quite some time. Hua Cheng welcomed every anecdote with hums of deep interest, chuckles of amusement; Xie Lian suspected Hua Cheng would have let him go on yapping the whole way were it not for their arrival in the city’s downtown, at which point he advised a stop at one of the 24-hour drug stores they were passing– “For any of gege’s last minute needs,” he’d suggested, giving a measured wind of the steering wheel against the heel of one palm, and turning the car smoothly into the parking lot with picture-perfect ease. 

Xie Lian had allowed himself a small internal freak-out about that before refocusing his attention on the task at hand; in his excitement, he’d nearly forgotten that most of his belongings were back in the van. Luckily for him, it appeared Hua Cheng had had a habit of always skipping two spirited steps ahead. In truth, he felt more like some long lost friend than a stranger from a seedy dating app. Xie Lian had suspected as much from their early conversations, but to be so decidedly proven right was a rare, unexpected joy. Finally, some of that dogged optimism was paying off.

“Alright, then,” Hua Cheng declared as he strolled through the sliding doors. “What are we looking for?” 

Xie Lian doddered along at Hua Cheng’s side, casting a look around the shelves, the half-hearted restocks, the pale fluorescent lighting. Behind the register, a cashier dazedly scrolled on their phone, clearly not aiming for employee of the month. Xie Lian felt a bit guilty to be part of the reason anyone had to work a night shift on a holiday, but weighing that against entering Hua Cheng’s house without cleaning himself up left him with a pretty obvious decision.

“Well, let’s see… Some shower stuff would be good. Shampoo, body wash… I think my toothbrush might be in here already, but…?” Xie Lian trailed off as he rummaged in his tote bag. He’d been in such a tizzy when he left the van that he honestly couldn’t remember what he’d grabbed and what he’d forgotten. 

Hua Cheng was unbothered, merely extending one arm with the plastic shopping basket hooked about his elbow, like he were some elegant lord offering Xie Lian a personal escort.

“Why not just grab whatever comes to mind? Better that than to realize you need something later. Besides,” he murmured, leaning closer with a playfully conspiratorial hush. “This place is dead empty, so we can make a few laps. Gege doesn’t need to rush.”

Xie Lian giggled as he dropped his voice to a matching whisper. “Hah– sure, if that’s okay with you… I just don’t want to keep you out, is all.”

Hua Cheng shook his head with an indulgent smile as the pair began meandering down the aisle of bath products. “It’s no trouble. Come to think of it, I have a few things to grab as well.”

“Oh, yeah?” Xie Lian asked, plucking off a bottle of his tried and true 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner and, after a moment of deliberation, deciding to spoil himself with a full-sized bottle of floral body wash instead of the travel size. It was a holiday, after all. “What do you need?”

Hua Cheng whirled around, a few paces away in the eye care section, waggling a small bottle in the air as Xie Lian caught up. “Just some contact solution.”

Xie Lian’s eyebrows raised as he carefully lowered his items into the basket. “Oh– San Lang wears contact lenses?”

“Well, sort of. I only wear one,” Hua Cheng explained, raising one finger to tap lightly below his red eye. “It’s a corrective lens. You can look a little closer, if you like.” 

Xie Lian didn’t need much more invitation; he peered up into it, fascinated by the contrast of the white sclera against that pale, milky iris, and punctuated by its deep red pupil, vivid as blood on snow. Sure enough, the closer he looked, the more he could make out the faint ring of a contact lens against the eye itself.

“How beautiful… I’ve never seen anything like it…” Xie Lian’s lips tugged up into a small smile of wonder, feeling almost breathless at the sight– that, combined with Hua Cheng’s closeness, his eyes looking just as deeply down into Xie Lian’s own. He cleared his throat shyly. “Is it genetic, or…?”

Hua Cheng nodded with a pleased smile. “Very astute, gege. Ocular albinism– neither of my parents were affected by it, so the doctors figured there must have been matching genes for it somewhere in the cocktail. Just not strong enough to win over both eyes, I guess.”

Xie Lian’s eyes lit up in curiosity, following Hua Cheng as they puttered through the cosmetics aisle, then around the bend to paper products, the drugstore passing them absently like scenes from a dream. “Ah, that’s so interesting! So is the contact lens for protection?”

Hua Cheng tilted his head. “Well, yes and no. The vision in it was always pretty bad– way worse when I was a kid. I could barely see out of the thing, and the frustration alone made such a little goblin out of me,” he snickered. “When all you do is draw, not being able to fully see what you’re doing is pretty infuriating.”

“Oh, gosh, I can’t imagine…” Xie Lian frowned at the thought. “That must have been very difficult for a young child.”

“Right again,” Hua Cheng said, pausing to toss in a box of tissues– lotion-infused, as Xie Lian was tickled to see. Hua Cheng clearly spared no expense when it came to comfort. “I couldn’t count how many times I begged my mom just to take the damn thing out.”

“Ah– I take it she didn’t listen to you, though?

Hua Cheng laughed aloud, disturbing the stillness that hung over the store. “Haha–! Nope. Probably the right move, but I would’ve died before admitting it at the time. As soon as I had the money for corrective lenses, I went straight for the color kind to match the dark eye, and just pretended it didn’t exist. Wore those for… god, maybe five, six years or so? It took a long time to finally embrace the red.”

“Really?” Xie Lian cocked his head, reaching one hand to the side to snag a package of dental floss, too engrossed in Hua Cheng’s story to check the price. “What made you change your mind?”

Their pace slowed as Hua Cheng took a thoughtful breath, rolling the point of his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Xie Lian waited patiently, turning the small plastic box over and over in his hands. He fully realized the implications of asking such a delicate question– under any other circumstances, he probably would have devolved into a blushing, skittering mess by now. However, something about the way Hua Cheng was considering his answer so carefully, the way the nearly-abandoned store on this silent night felt so private in its emptiness, like a soundproof bubble around them… it was lighting a flicker of courage in Xie Lian, gently nudging him to try things he normally wouldn’t.

“I think I just… got tired of hiding it, I guess,” Hua Cheng finally admitted, the answer simple and deeply complex at once. Xie Lian could tell as much by the hush of his voice, the light furrow of his brow as he explained. “The lenses helped, and my vision had improved a lot by the time I grew up… It was easier to feel okay with showing it once it actually worked better, you know? That was the real reason I hated it in the first place, so eventually, there was no more point to all that anger. Though it’s still a bit of a headache– literally.”

Xie Lian couldn’t help his sympathetic wince. “Oh, yikes– does it hurt you sometimes?”

Hua Cheng barked a laugh, scuffing his boots against the speckled linoleum. “God, yeah. Sensitive as hell. Summertime’s a nightmare– if I don’t have sunglasses or an eyepatch on, it’s like the sun shoots right through the thing. Hurts like crazy.”

Hua Cheng’s tone was light, his smile a carefree, crooked thing– purposefully so. The only thing that gave him away were those very eyes: one dark, deep, and soulful, the other pale, raw and red like an open wound– sensitive, in Hua Cheng’s own apt description. Both so unique, so beautiful in their own rights, and both so telling.

“Yeah,” Xie Lian breathed with a soft, knowing smile, his own gaze caught in a loop between them. “That makes sense.”

The lashes on those eyes batted once, and the look of surprise creeping into Hua Cheng’s expression shook Xie Lian out of his own starry-eyed haze.

“Ah– I mean– I’m sorry to hear that, but…” he sputtered, worrying the corner of the floss’s label beneath his thumbnail. “I am glad that you don’t cover it anymore. I think… I think it suits you very well.”

Hua Cheng seemed to relax, or at least compose himself enough to draw close to Xie Lian’s shoulder again and hold out the basket with another smooth smile, somewhat more genuine than the last. 

“Well, thank you for saying so,” he hummed, low and appreciative and a little teasing. “Gege’s gone and made me very bashful now.”

Xie Lian scoffed good-naturedly as he dropped the floss into the offered basket– nothing about Hua Cheng’s smirk and imposing figure implied anything remotely near bashfulness. That newfound courage was rearing its head again, both in his laughter and in the rising urge to meet Hua Cheng at the level he had so bravely stepped to.

“Well, I’ll do you one better…!” Xie Lian sang, reaching out to tug on the sleeve of Hua Cheng’s coat to draw them both behind a display that had been picked clean of ‘To & From’ cards and festive wrapping paper. It wasn’t as though the cardboard carcass afforded them much of a hiding place, or as though there was anyone around to hide from– but damnit, Xie Lian felt giddy and childish, and it was fun, like a game of pretend on the playground. Better still, Xie Lian could safely guess by Hua Cheng’s amused giggle that he very much agreed. The knowledge egged him on as he pulled up his upper lip in a semblance of a smile, and pointed to the outer edge of one front tooth. “See that?”

Again, Xie Lian had to steady his heartbeat as Hua Cheng leaned down into his space, peering where he was directed. This close up, Xie Lian could smell traces of cologne, something smokey and sweet, could even make out the spray of his eyelashes as they fluttered–

“Ah–!” Hua Cheng exclaimed, mouth splitting in a wide grin that was far too close to Xie Lian’s face for him to process gracefully. “Spotted it– oh, poor gege… How’d you get that?”

Xie Lian huffed a laugh as he lowered his lip, still running the tip of his thumb along that small, but sharply angular chip in his tooth. The jagged edge dug into the pad of his thumb– it had gone blunt long ago, but a strange part of Xie Lian still liked to feel around for sharp edges. It was a nervous habit that reared its head now and then, mostly when Xie Lian was alone, completely comfortable in his solitude. And in drugstores with extremely handsome men, apparently.

“Hah… I bet San Lang can’t guess,” Xie Lian teased, and wandered a few steps ahead into the stationery aisle. Here, too, the Christmas supplies were cleaned out, leaving gaping holes in the stocked shelves and resembling a child’s gap-toothed grin.

Hua Cheng was still smiling, already following a few steps behind Xie Lian as he was towed along by curiosity. “Hm… Bear attack?”

Xie Lian snorted. “Pfft– flattering that you think I would win against a bear, but no.”

“Skydiving accident?”

“Hah–! Oh please, San Lang has seen my Tinder profile. How adventurous does he think I am?”

Hua Cheng shook his head in a melodramatic play at regret, one that didn’t match the playful gleam in his eyes at all. “Well, I hate to ask it, gege, but that loaf of crusty bread did look very crusty…”

Xie Lian threw back his head with a cackle. By now, they had meandered into the cards section, bracketed on both sides by well wishes for all occasions: birthdays, graduations, anniversaries, sympathies. Prints of confetti and mourning lilies stood side by side in neat columns; the comical contrast of them almost made Xie Lian a bit nostalgic.

“Please, won’t gege have mercy and enlighten me?” Hua Cheng drawled, cocking his head mischievously.

Xie Lian slowed to a halt, finally turning to face Hua Cheng again fully. “Very well, then. I, uh…” Despite his determination, Xie Lian couldn’t help but lower his head in a hint of shame. “I got this in a fistfight.”

For a brief moment, there was nothing but silence. Still, it felt long enough to Xie Lian for him to look up in question, only to find Hua Cheng tensing about the shoulders and his smile gone completely, replaced with a look of shock– shock, and quiet outrage.

“Did… did someone attack you, gege?” Hua Cheng’s voice was perfectly even, the anger in it ten times more potent for its stillness.

Xie Lian shook his head insistently. “Oh– no, no, not really! Quite the opposite, actually… I was actually the one who started it.” The smile he tried to force was more grimace than not. “Pretty embarrassing, right?”

Hua Cheng’s anger faded, but his brow was still furrowed in concern as he stepped closer. “Not at all,” he assured. “Some people need a good deck in the face. But I wouldn’t count you among their number in a hundred years.”

Xie Lian’s smile grew more genuine at that. “Thanks, San Lang. That’s kind of you. But I think I really did need it that day. To knock some sense into me, if nothing else.”

That pinch in Hua Cheng’s brow eased into something softer, more fretful as he regarded Xie Lian.

“Why is that?” he asked gently– so gently, Xie Lian realized, in order to give Xie Lian a fair chance to deny him an answer. The notion struck him straight through the heart, and began coaxing the words from his throat as his gaze returned to those goofy confetti cards, so perfectly ironic beside those clean, somber lilies.

“Well– there was a time in my life where I was very… misguided,” Xie Lian explained slowly. Choosing his words was always difficult when it came to talking about this part of him. “I had lost my family, my future… I was in a bad place, mentally, so I lashed out most of the time. Burned a lot of bridges, lost a lot of friends. Really, I think I had all these misconceptions about the world, and I was just desperate for something to prove me wrong.”

Xie Lian’s hands felt a little cold at the fingertips, and he fought the urge to dig his thumb back into that rough chip. Thankfully, Hua Cheng’s steady presence at his back felt like an anchor in the deep, grounded him enough to continue.

“So, one day, I did something exceptionally stupid, heh… I went to a bar looking for a fight. Surprise, surprise: I got one. And then, when the guy knocked me flat on my ass in the alley, I was almost relieved. I expected to be left right where I lay. That would make sense… That was all I wanted, really. For something to make sense. But…”

Xie Lian nearly felt Hua Cheng’s measured breath behind him, nearly felt the compassion in his voice as though it were in tangible space.

“But?”

A wistful smile played about Xie Lian’s lips at the memory. “But instead, he held out his hand. He helped me up, gave me a cup of ice for the busted tooth he’d just given me, and called me a taxi. My head was still spinning like crazy, so I hardly heard him at the time, but I remember before he shut the car door, he told me that next time something was eating at me, to call somebody to talk to instead of picking a fight. And to get home safe.”

Xie Lian smiled wider, feeling the nudge of that broken tooth in his bottom lip. To many, it would probably feel crooked, worn down, poorly placed. To him, it felt like hope.

“I thought about it all the way home. And then, next time things got bad, I did just what he told me: I called somebody. It was so stupid that I hadn’t considered it before… All that time, all I had to do was call– and all it took was some stranger’s right hook to prove it! How funny is that?”

Xie Lian couldn’t say he expected Hua Cheng to return his bright grin when he looked back at him, and he was right. Hua Cheng was still looking at him with that sorrowful quirk in his brow, a bit of residual tension in his frame– but also, as Xie Lian was pleasantly surprised to see, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

“I’m afraid you’ll never talk me into agreeing with you on that point. But…”

Hua Cheng’s voice dwindled for only a heartbeat, then his stony expression gave way beneath a small, grateful smile. The sight of it struck Xie Lian with a familiarity that ran as bone-deep as a good, long sleep- familiarity, he realized, because Hua Cheng looked the way that first phone call had felt: a distant glimmer, small but true. The promise of a port in the storm, however rocky and far away.

“I’m glad you called, gege,” Hua Cheng concluded as though he knew, even regarding Xie Lian and all his scruffy, patchwork glory with such warmth that Xie Lian felt fit to melt on the spot. “I’m really glad you called.”

Xie Lian’s heart leapt, paused in mid-air, then hit the ground running a mile a minute.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “I am, too.”

Hua Cheng returned to his side and cast another look over Xie Lian’s toothy grin. “Even if the means were unforgivable, it’s quite a cool look on you.”

Xie Lian waggled his eyebrows jokingly. “Ooh, you think so?”

“I know so. Gege is so dashing and roguish– I might just swoon.”

Xie Lian burst into wild laughter, nearly keeling over at the end of the aisle where it opened back up into the main entryway. “Hahaha–! Well, don’t swoon before we check out, or we’ll get in trouble! Oh, speaking of…” Swiping away a stray tear, Xie Lian extended his hand toward the shopping basket in inquiry. “I can just fish out my items from there, if that’s–”

Before he could get close, Hua Cheng swiftly pivoted around him, swirling the basket out of reach and starting for the checkout line. “No need– after the night you’ve had, to make you pay for your own toiletries would be unconscionably rude. Please, allow me.”

“Oh, heavens, San Lang, that’s too much! I couldn’t ask you–”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not asking then, isn’t it, gege?” Hua Cheng called back with a devilish smirk. “I’m insisting.”

Xie Lian placed his hands on his hips with a huff, planting his feet firmly in protest. “You have to let me get something. It’s only fair.”

Hua Cheng’s smirk broadened into a grin, simply looking back on Xie Lian’s stubborn face a moment– then he began slowly making his way back to meet him, the heels of his boots clicking step by purposeful step. Xie Lian’s fingers twitched slightly on his hips at the sound, and the feeling of being approached with such intent. By the time he was towering before Xie Lian again, he practically expected Hua Cheng to reach out and take hold of him– by the hand, the waist, the curve of his jaw, if Xie Lian’s wandering mind could dare to dream it–

Instead, Hua Cheng cast a quick look off to the small shelves beside them, lined with single-use, last minute holiday needs, and plucked off two small packets of instant hot chocolate.

“Here,” he said innocently, waving them in the air. “Would gege cover these for me?”

Xie Lian’s breath had been frozen in his throat, but released itself enough for an incredulous scoff. “S-San Lang…!”

Hua Cheng shamelessly pouted, miserable and entreating as a child in the candy aisle. “Please, gege? I’m all out at home, and hot chocolate is my favorite. Especially on Christmas.”

Xie Lian rolled his eyes, equal parts exasperated and endeared. “Hah– well, since San Lang is asking so nicely, and he’ll probably call me a bully if I don’t…” He snatched the packets out of Hua Cheng’s hand, returning the delighted smile with a snicker of his own as he strode past him to the dozing cashier. “And since it’s Christmas.”

The rest of the drive home was so filled with stories, jokes, and avid conversation that Hua Cheng almost forgot about the festive rampage he’d gone on less than an hour before. As such, even he was a little surprised to swing open the front door for Xie Lian and be greeted with such a feast for the senses: a rush of warmth sweeping over the pair and drawing them in from the cold, walls trimmed from end to end with evergreen boughs and wreaths with glitter-dusted pine cones and vibrant holly berries, the ceiling above twinkling with the mismatched web of soft white and multicolored bulb lights and washing the entire first floor in a magical glow– and of course, the tempting aroma of rich, savory soup and toasty meat buns swirling in the air. 

The sheer amount of decor and its wild placement looked a bit chaotic, Hua Cheng readily admitted (especially when noting that some of those bulb ornaments might actually be Easter eggs, but how the hell was he supposed to know the difference?!). Still, the overall effect was unchanged, just as lively and welcoming and Christmas-forward as anyone could have dreamed, even if Hua Cheng had to do a quick double-take to be sure that they were in his house at all.

Xie Lian’s sigh of wonder was evidence of this as he stepped into the foyer, eyes wide and lit up with reflecting rainbow colors as he took it all in. “Oh my goodness, San Lang… Your home is so lovely! You really do like Christmas, don’t you?”

Hua Cheng cleared his throat, and quickly shut the door behind them. “Ahem – yup. Sure do. Let me take your coat, gege…”

Xie Lian kept oohing and aahing all the way through the living room, up the stairs, and down the hallway to the guest room, where Hua Cheng directed him to the ensuite bathroom. After showing Xie Lian the linen closet where he could find additional towels and a quick tutorial on the shower mechanics (which Xie Lian sheepishly admitted to being a bit intimidated by), Hua Cheng excused himself to find Xie Lian a spare set of warmer, comfier clothes. Xie Lian had blushed and thanked him through the closing bathroom door, and Hua Cheng had held his bashful gaze for as long as possible, until finally it clicked shut between them.

Hua Cheng felt like he was holding down the lid on a bottle of lightning, physically keeping himself together on the short walk to his bedroom down the garland-strewn hall. He barely made it to the dresser before his face broke into a ridiculous grin, a giddy chuckle rising from his throat as he poked through for some items that had recently shrunk in the wash. He was here– Xie Lian was here. He was here, kind and lovely and wonderfully imperfect, and oh, Hua Cheng liked him. He knew that his luck was unnaturally good, but this had to be a whole new, utterly cosmic level.

Having found a suitable set of workout pants and a soft long-sleeved tee for Xie Lian, he took a brief moment to change clothes himself, opting for a pair of joggers and a red henley so that Xie Lian wouldn’t feel underdressed– and, maybe a bit selfishly, so that Hua Cheng knew some of his better features and forearm tattoos would be on humble display. When he eased the guest room door open again, he could hear the water rushing on full blast. Hua Cheng tucked a small smile into the corner of his mouth at the sound. He couldn’t rightfully say when Xie Lian had last experienced a hot shower with good water pressure, but if Hua Cheng was the one to have provided it, then he would count it as his highest honor.

Hua Cheng made his clothes delivery swift in order to afford Xie Lian all the privacy he needed, leaving the pile of loungewear and socks folded neatly on the poinsettia quilt at the foot of the bed. Then, dashing downstairs, he made quick work of lighting the spiced candle in the living room, setting the electric fireplace to a hearty roar, and ducking into the kitchen to see to their dinner. He sported a chipper smile as he coaxed the soup and buns back up to temperature, and even managed to scavenge a few more items out of his pantry for a quick and simple noodle stir-fry, whistling a chipper tune all the while. Who could have believed it– Hua Cheng, cooking on a guaranteed night off, and whistling about it. God, was this what this stupid holiday had been about the whole time? If so, he was kicking himself for not jumping on the bandwagon sooner.

Hua Cheng had only just started ladling out portions of soup into two bowls when he heard the light padding of feet behind him. He smiled wide, keeping his back to Xie Lian for now as he finished serving up their food.

“How did gege enjoy the shower? Plenty warm, I hope?”

That lilting voice practically sang to Hua Cheng as Xie Lian seemed to draw closer, making Hua Cheng want to tilt his head back and bask in the sound.

“Mm-hm… very much so. San Lang is so obliging… I don’t know how I can ever repay him.”

Hua Cheng’s ears practically perked up at the light croon in Xie Lian’s voice, and the brush of a figure at his back. Was that… teasing? Dare he say it– flirting? A thrill of excitement danced up Hua Cheng’s spine at the thought. He swallowed hard, struggling to clear the fog in his head enough to set down the bowl and ladle without a flustered clatter.

“Th-there’s nothing to repay,” he replied, turning around with as much suaveness as he could muster. “Please, just make yourself at h–”

Hua Cheng couldn’t say what he’d been expecting to see over his shoulder– of course, if asked, he couldn’t deny his hopes included a pair of light brown eyes, lowered beneath batting lashes, or better yet, peering up at him in darling entreaty. His heart was dancing gaily at the very notion, priming his body for a moment fit for a Hallmark movie. 

It was safe to say he didn’t expect the jumpscare that was two shiny, doll’s eyes boring into his own, sewn in place above a bulbous cherry-red nose, and framed by a woolly white beard with a clownish smile.

“AAH–!”

Hua Cheng nearly jumped a foot in the air, much to Xie Lian’s hysterical delight; he clutched the stuffed Santa doll to his chest and screamed with laughter. Only when Hua Cheng had braced one hand on the counter behind him and steadied his heartbeat with the other did Xie Lian finally relent.

“Hehe– Boo!” he giggled impishly, giving the overstuffed Santa a teasing waggle in the air.

Hua Cheng puffed an abrupt laugh and attempted to gather himself enough for a wheezed reply. “Haha– wow… Gege really got me. That’s, uh…”

The cold wave of dread had only begun to settle over Hua Cheng as he started to drum up some kind of explanation, a bit too late; Xie Lian was already turning the horrid thing over in his hands, smiling down at the face that only a mother or Christmas freak could love.

“I knew San Lang was crafty, but my goodness– I didn’t expect this!”

There was that teasing tone again, one that Xie Lian had only shown passing glimpses of so far. Hua Cheng couldn’t say he was opposed to it– quite the opposite, despite (or perhaps because of) the little rush of humiliation that was now burning at the tips of his ears.

“Ah, well–” Hua Cheng’s trusty silver tongue was not performing well under pressure– worse, it was rusting out fast, his mind spinning its wheels as the words that would save his ass cruelly evaded him. “That actually… uh…”

Then those amberlit eyes flicked up to him, innocent as a doe’s– and Xie Lian flipped the Santa over to point out a hand-stitched tag on the doll’s back.

“Unless… we owe all your holiday spirit to, let’s see… Kathy Lee Robb?”

Hua Cheng’s heart froze over, eyes snapping in sheer panic to that tag. There, as plain as day: ‘MADE WITH LOVE AND FLYING REINDEER DUST!!! BY KATHY LEE ROBB’  

Xie Lian cocked his head. “Poor little fella was hiding in the closet... A bit strange for a Christmas lover, isn’t it?” He directed the question with a pitying pout toward the doll’s stupid, smiling face, before looking pointedly back at Hua Cheng. “It says the same thing on the quilt in the guest room. Friend of yours?”

That wrinkly, saccharine smile flashed like a sneer in his mind’s eye as Hua Cheng felt himself physically deflate, head literally hanging in shame while one hand rose to clamp over his eyes. The act was up.

“Gege…” he groaned miserably. “I’m sorry, I just– I didn’t want you to think I was trying to coerce you, and I’d made Christmas out to be such a big deal already, so…” He rubbed at his forehead, then ran the hand coarsely through his hair with a grimace of guilt. “Ah, I was so excited that you were coming over at all that I wasn’t thinking. I promise you, gege, I didn’t mean to deceive you– I just–”

Hua Cheng’s penitent monologue cut off sharply as soon as he looked up to meet Xie Lian’s gaze again– Xie Lian, who, to Hua Cheng’s amazement, did not appear anywhere near as irate or disgusted or horrified as he’d feared. Quite the opposite, in fact; Xie Lian stood before him, his blush painting his heartfelt smile a rosy pink to match that of the somewhat more tacky face he was hugging to his chest like a teddy bear.

“San Lang is very sweet,” he murmured, voice brimming with what Hua Cheng could only wildly dream was affection. “Doing so much just to make me feel at home. Such a dedicated host, too!” One more giggle was stifled behind Xie Lian’s hand, the grin behind it all the more darling for how it peeked out coyly between his fingers. “You didn’t need to go to all that trouble, but… I appreciate it very much. Thank you, San Lang.”

The shockwave of relief that went through Hua Cheng was so staggering that it might have fallen to his knees right there on the kitchen floor– and while he could safely say he was beyond embarrassment at this point, Hua Cheng would rather not make a fool out of himself twice in one night.

His hands came together, thumbs rubbing circles into his still-clammy palms as he huffed a laugh. “No, thank you, gege. For putting up with all this foolishness. I promise, I usually decorate much more mindfully than this.”

Xie Lian merely laughed in reply, whirling around to face the living room and leaving Hua Cheng to be belatedly rocked by the torturous vision of Xie Lian strolling about the house in his clothes; they were just a hair too big for his frame in the most tempting of ways, dragging slightly at the ankles, slouching in languid dips about the shy points of his collarbones– and okay, maybe Hua Cheng was going to make a fool of himself twice in one night, after all.

“Nonsense,” Xie Lian tutted, his path curving about the coffee table toward that hokey, light-up Christmas tree, glowing red and green and yellow up onto his face. “I think it suits the place beautifully! Though, it’s missing a certain someone…”

With that, Xie Lian leaned forward and planted that god-awful Santa Claus right beneath the plastic boughs, then stepped back to appreciate his work with a satisfied sigh.

“There!” Xie Lian craned his head around to flash a brilliant grin to Hua Cheng where he stood staring in the kitchen doorway, weaker in the knees and the heart than even he could have dreamed possible. “Perfect.”

Oh, good lord. Was it too early in the game to say that Hua Cheng was in love?

The evening drew on into late, muffled hours, settling down beneath the heavy blanket of snow as the pair danced around each other inside the house: talking emphatically in between indulgent bites of food, nudging each other on the hip in a mad dash to see who could bring their dishes to the sink first, and snickering through cheesy Christmas movies they were hardly watching– though at one point, that had less to do with cheesiness and more to do with Xie Lian hiding his beet-red face after witnessing exactly why Westerners made such a big deal out of mistletoe for the first time. He’d disappeared behind his fumbling hands with an awkward snort as the onscreen couple shared a kiss that was incredibly passionate for what was usually considered a family holiday, and Hua Cheng physically had to stifle his own laugh behind his palm. Some of these customs really were ridiculous, but if they afforded Hua Cheng another glimpse of that enchanting blush, then he supposed he could get on board. 

If anyone had been outside the tall, glassy windows looking in through the storm, the two might have resembled a pair of delicate ceramic figures, swirling at the heart of a snowglobe. But then, who in their right mind would be outside alone on a night like this? Very thankfully not Xie Lian, Hua Cheng mused to himself, giving his mug of hot chocolate a swirl and sending a contented, sidelong glance to the man snuggled up on the couch only a foot or two away.

“Goodness, it’s still coming down out there…” Xie Lian commented, retreating slightly into the quilt bundled about his shoulders and wrapping both hands around his own mug, as though the very idea had lent him a bit of the storm’s chill. “Do you know when it’s supposed to stop?”

Hua Cheng took a lingering sip; the rich flavor unfurled itself gently on his tongue, bringing a nostalgic smile to his lips. He had genuinely forgotten how much he liked this stuff. “Hard to say– maybe sometime tomorrow night? Usually storms like this blow out to the mountains before very long.”

Xie Lian hummed into his hot chocolate, the sound becoming a deep, resonant thing inside his mug. Before them, the electric fireplace had been getting Hua Cheng his money’s worth in the last few hours alone, burning at a steady glow in perfect contrast with the flurry of snowflakes whirling briskly about just outside. It lent the room an ambience of homey comfort amidst the cold, so much so that Hua Cheng was starting to think he might agree with Xie Lian’s sentiment– maybe softness suited the place better than he’d anticipated.

“Oh, boy… I wonder how I’m gonna get the van out of all this tomorrow,” Xie Lian laughed wearily as he rubbed one temple. “If it even starts, that is.”

Hua Cheng chuckled along, one hand propping his head up against the back of the couch and looking over Xie Lian with blatant affection– and god, he felt so warm, so at ease, so at home, that he really couldn’t have been blamed for speaking before he thought.

“Well,” he sang. “I guess gege will just have to stay until it’s fixed.”

Xie Lian’s eyes widened in momentary shock, and immediately, Hua Cheng’s body stiffened with tension. Like so many things, the offer had been phrased half-jokingly, but Hua Cheng had meant it– he’d had to dedicate part of the evening to tuning out the part of his brain that was planning a proposal by next Valentine’s Day, for crying out loud– but it had been perfectly sincere. By now, Xie Lian had to know that… but then, would it change anything? Was this one step too far?

Hua Cheng opened his mouth, already prepared to backtrack well into last week– before Xie Lian interrupted him with a quick breath.

“Well, I… that is…” he all but whispered, fiddling with a chip on the handle of his mug. “No one should be alone on Christmas Day… Right?”

Xie Lian’s eyes were hopeful and entreating, his tone all the answer Hua Cheng needed in its asking. Hua Cheng grinned, and shook his head decidedly.

“No," he affirmed. "No, they shouldn’t.”

Xie Lian’s gaze went from hopeful to heartened in a split second, his small smile spreading into a beam as brilliant and unwavering as the sun, and oh, Hua Cheng was in love, would have asked him to stay forever right then and there… had Xie Lian’s grin not been abruptly hijacked by the deepest, most world-wearied yawn Hua Cheng had ever heard. It stretched his face into a comical oval shape and drew a creaky sigh from his throat, and Hua Cheng laughed out loud at it, despite Xie Lian’s humph of displeasure. He chose to make up for that by rising to his feet, coaxing the now-cool mug from Xie Lian’s grasp, and offering him his hand.

“Alright then, gege… it’s way past our bedtimes. I’ll walk you upstairs, hm?”

Xie Lian grumbled a bit at being pulled from his quilt cocoon, but otherwise didn’t resist, padding up the stairs after Hua Cheng until they reached the doorway to the guest room. Once there, Xie Lian paused, turning back to face Hua Cheng with a bashful smile and one hand lingering reluctantly on the doorknob.

“San Lang… I just want to say thank you again,” he confessed, his voice low and gentle. “This has been so wonderful… I haven’t had such a nice evening in a very long time.”

Hua Cheng returned his smile in equal measure. “Trust me, gege, I should be thanking you. You saved me from a pretty pathetic night, if I’m honest.”

Xie Lian scoffed a teasing laugh. “Oh, poor San Lang– so pathetic, sentenced to a night of peace and quiet in his own home.”

A tender wave surged in Hua Cheng then, bolstered by that tricky habit of his for speaking impulsively.

“Not quite a home,” he insisted softly, unable to resist a glance about Xie Lian’s face, illuminated so beautifully by the ambient lighting. “At least, not without anyone to share it with.”

Those brown eyes glowed like candlelight, going wide and starry as they gazed up into Hua Cheng’s. For a moment, he only held Hua Cheng there, lips parting around a slow breath, and what Hua Cheng could only dream was about to be a tender, impulsive statement of his own– only for that face to suddenly go awash with shock as Xie Lian flushed red as a holly berry.

“Uh–” Xie Lian stammered. “S-San Lang… I– um…”

Hua Cheng searched Xie Lian’s face in confusion for a moment or two. “Gege? Are you alr…”

He trailed off as he noticed the path of Xie Lian’s dumbstruck gaze, focused on a point just above his head, and quickly looked up. Sure enough, it landed right on the garland he’d unthinkingly strewn over the doorway in his earlier craze… and the darling little bundle of frosted leaves and white berries now dangling conveniently from it. 

Mistletoe.

The gears in Hua Cheng’s mind jammed with a shriek that he was certain would have been audible, had he not been so sure of it being drowned out by the panicked pounding of his heart. His mouth fell open, floundering for words and gasping for air like a trout on a riverbank.

“Ah– g-gege, I– don’t mind that, it was– uh–”

Hua Cheng’s flimsy explanation was hastily silenced by the feeling of two hands clapping somewhat aggressively onto his shoulders; freezing in shock, he snapped his gaze back down. It found Xie Lian now directly in his space, a mere few inches away from his face, staring intently– and then, as he pinched his lips together into a firm line, a look of adorable determination.

With that, Xie Lian did Hua Cheng one better in terms of tender impulse; in one swift motion, he used his iron grip on Hua Cheng’s shoulders to shove himself onto his tiptoes, squeezed his eyes shut, and planted a clumsy but heartfelt kiss directly to Hua Cheng’s dumbfounded mouth.

At first, Hua Cheng could only stare wide-eyed and slack-mouthed, still somehow in utter denial at the funny angle of Xie Lian’s face shoved into his. He blinked rapidly, half expecting to come to right back on the couch downstairs and see that he and Xie Lian had fallen asleep there, and all this was just the fanciful workings of his wildest dream yet. Then, Xie Lian’s mouth lost some of its awkward force, and moved so pleadingly against his own– so real- and Hua Cheng was swept away heart-first. His eyes fell shut with one deep, soulful sigh, before he dove to recapture Xie Lian’s lips in earnest, dropping both his arms to wrap about Xie Lian’s waist and swiftly pulling him up and into his embrace.

Immediately, the pair folded into each other like the pages of a well-worn letter: Hua Cheng drawing Xie Lian closer and tucking him into the hollows of his body, and Xie Lian utterly melting in the circle of Hua Cheng's arms, hands loosening their grasp and skimming down to curl tenderly together on Hua Cheng’s chest. It was so easy to hold him, Hua Cheng marveled, so easy to slide a reverent hand up the elegant curve of Xie Lian's back and taste the shiver in Xie Lian's replying gasp against his lips.

The kiss deepened naturally, delving deeper, closer, warmer, and oh god, Hua Cheng didn't know how something so wonderful could get any better- and then, like so many things on this magical night (all of them to do with Xie Lian), it went ahead and did just that. Now, Xie Lian’s lashes were fluttering like a pair of delicate wings atop the apples of Hua Cheng’s cheeks as he breathed out through his nose; Hua Cheng felt the rush of air whispering against his skin as closely as if it were his own. Their profiles slot so perfectly aside one another’s, like their very faces were dancing cheek-to-cheek the way lovers did in all those old movies. Hua Cheng felt dizzy with delight, hardly knowing which sensation to savor first. Above all, Xie Lian’s lips were so heavenly soft, even softer than Hua Cheng had dreamed just hours ago: plush and warm and tasting of that rich, sweet chocolate that was so nostalgic to him– so much so that kissing Xie Lian for the first time felt as thrillingly new as it did familiar: a feeling of embarking, of exploring, and of coming home, all at once.

When the pair did eventually part, their shared reluctance was clear in how achingly slow they moved. The entire world narrowed to the delicate slip of their mouths as they withdrew: doting, imploring, and caressing until the very last farewell brush. They hardly let one another go, still tucked into their ardent embrace while their lips hovered over each other’s, their open-mouthed breaths turning the minute space between them dewy and warm. Hua Cheng felt… moved. Riveted, like his entire being had been turned on its head. His eyes blinked open, finding Xie Lian’s still fluttering, his expression distant and dreamy, his lips rosy and pursed in a perfect ‘oh.’ Hua Cheng’s heart seized at the same time as softened– it had never been a covetous thing before, but now it locked in on its prize with little need for assistance, all of its other, shallow desires simply falling away. Hua Cheng was a man remade, reforged in the fire of one, precious kiss.

“S-San Lang…”

Hua Cheng quickly surfaced from his lovesick haze; Xie Lian’s eyes were open now, the light brown turned pure gold as they batted up at him. It was all Hua Cheng could do not to swoon at the sight.

“Yes, gege?” he rasped, starting to feel a little crazy over how his own breath ruffled the loose strands of hair about Xie Lian’s face. “What is it? Tell me…”

Xie Lian’s blush bloomed anew on his cheeks, his lips beginning to quiver beneath words unspoken. “M–m…”

Hua Cheng was stupid with adoration; he smiled dotingly and nodded in encouragement, nuzzling the tip of his nose against Xie Lian’s for good measure. “Yes?”

Xie Lian’s eyes went starry again, that blush reaching critical levels of vibrancy, before finally, finally, he sucked in a sharp breath of courage, and blurted:

“M-m-m– MERRY CHRISTMAS, SAN LANG!”

Hua Cheng hurtled straight back into shock again– and in his defense, he wasn’t alone. As soon as the response left his lips, Xie Lian’s face froze in a look of pure mortification, as though the words he’d wanted to say had gotten scrambled from his brain to his mouth. However, as evidenced by his expression, he had already surpassed his maximum capacity for saving face; with no more parting gift than a laugh barked way too loudly and a flailing wave goodbye, Xie Lian slipped from Hua Cheng’s slackening arms and scuttled into the guest room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Silence hung in the air for a few more heartbeats. Frankly, Hua Cheng was still reeling from the aftermath of having his whole existence rewired, let alone the possible implications of Xie Lian’s abrupt exit. It would be all too easy to see this as a sound rejection, and Hua Cheng couldn’t be blamed for making that leap under normal circumstances. But still…

Hua Cheng swallowed heavily, one hand raising numbly to press its palm flat against the closed door. Xie Lian was far from ‘normal circumstances.’ Maybe it was easy to jump to the worst conclusion– but with all Hua Cheng knew by now, it was far more realistic (and endearing) to imagine Xie Lian kicking himself miserably on the other side of the door, Xie Lian diving into bed and burrowing under the handmade quilt with a stifled wail of dismay, Xie Lian fiddling with his chipped tooth while hemming and hawing over how what he could say to make up for such a blunder…

Hua Cheng’s growing smile swelled in time with his fluttering heart. Well. Whatever method Xie Lian chose, Hua Cheng would be there tomorrow morning, ready and waiting to make his reciprocated feelings too clear to mistake– over a freshly made breakfast, ideally with another kiss as reassurance.

For now, he stood in the doorway a few moments longer, content to simply bask in the magic of the moment. The entire house and the night that enveloped it was perfectly silent and still, a faint glow ebbing around the curve of the stairs from the lower level. Hua Cheng breathed a hushed sigh in the darkened hallway, stepping closer and bowing his head reverently beneath the delicate mistletoe. His home had been quiet many times before– but never once had it been so peaceful.

Hua Cheng rested his forehead against the door with a smile, and murmured like a hopeful prayer:

“Merry Christmas, gege.”