Work Text:
1.
Cheng Xiaoshi has only spent an hour on the court today. Yet, in that time, he’s somehow managed to launch a basketball directly into a stranger’s face.
“Are you okay?” Cheng Xiaoshi frets, hovering anxiously over where the stranger’s sprawled on the floor.
The stranger is a boy his age, and thankfully, he isn’t unconscious. The first thing Cheng Xiaoshi notices about him is his shock of white hair, dazzling in the lingering light of the sunset. The second is his bleeding nose, dripping steadily onto his white shirt and staining his collar a deep scarlet.
The third thing he notices is that the boy is crying.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s jaw drops. It’s bad enough that he accidentally bashed someone’s face in. Making him cry is—beyond reckless, even for him.
“Hold on, I’ll bring someone from the infirmary,” he blurts out.
Before he can break into a run, though, a hand clamps around his wrist.
“I’m fine,” the boy insists. When Cheng Xiaoshi turns to look at him, he’s wiping his eyes discreetly. “I’m fine.”
2.
“Hey, Lu Guang!”
Lu Guang looks up from his lunch, scanning his surroundings before he finally spots Cheng Xiaoshi waving at him. He shuffles along the bench, and moves his bag so that Cheng Xiaoshi can sit down.
“Cheng Xiaoshi,” Lu Guang acknowledges. He gestures to the stack of papers in Cheng Xiaoshi’s arms. “What’s that?”
“An assignment,” Cheng Xiaoshi sighs. He dumps his papers on the table. It makes a satisfying noise, and that’s really the only positive thing about it. “If I don’t get this done now I’ll have to stay behind to finish it, because it’s due by 5pm, and I’ve left it ‘til the last minute.”
Lu Guang moves his lunch to the side, and peers over the front page. “Is it an essay?”
“Yeah,” Cheng Xiaoshi says mournfully. He crosses his arms on the table, and slouches on the papers. “I know what I want to argue… it’s just actually starting the thing that’s putting me off.”
Lu Guang flips the sheet over. He looks like he’s contemplating something.
“I have some work to finish, too,” he says eventually, picking up the pen. “If you’d like, we could work together.”
Cheng Xiaoshi beams. “Really? Lu Guang, you’re the best.”
3.
chengxiaoshi [03:21]: lu guang
chengxiaoshi [03:21]: lu guang
chengxiaoshi [03:21]: lu guangggggg
Lu Guang [03:24]: Cheng Xiaoshi
Lu Guang [03:24]: It’s 3 in the morning
chengxiaoshi [03:25]: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7x_lWJNnNg
Lu Guang [03:26]: You woke me up for this?
chengxiaoshi [03:26]: cmon its cute!!
chengxiaoshi [03:26]: reminds me of you
chengxiaoshi [03:26]: ٩( ᗒᗨᗕ )۶
Lu Guang [03:27]: Are you serious
4.
“My legs,” Cheng Xiaoshi says, strangled.
The head of the anime club ignores his cries for help. Cheng Xiaoshi thinks that she’s having far too much fun with this cosplay, turning a blind eye to (or just unbothered about) the fact that his thighs are scarily close to being exposed to the world, and that the door isn’t locked.
“If I just fasten this here—” she mutters to herself, Cheng Xiaoshi flapping uselessly at her orders, “and—okay it’s a bit small on you but we can make this work—”
“Actually, I’m just happy to be the photographer for the day,” Cheng Xiaoshi laughs nervously, “you really don’t need to—”
With a flourish, the girl tightens his belt. “Ta-dah!”
She looks incredibly pleased with herself. Feeling a little embarrassed and mostly foolish, Cheng Xiaoshi hesitantly steps forward to peer at himself in the mirror.
Surprisingly, it’s not half-bad. He twists, inspecting himself at different angles while the girl looks proudly over his shoulder. He’s no Lu Guang, that’s for sure, and it shows a lot of skin, but for a cosplay that clearly wasn’t meant for him, it actually flatters his frame in more places than he thought it would.
He turns to the girl, burning with questions—
—only to find Lu Guang staring at him from the doorway instead.
“Lu Guang!” Cheng Xiaoshi yelps. His face heats, and he feels somehow like he’s stepped into an active volcano. Lu Guang simply gives him a deadpan wave. “I thought you left—how long have you been standing there?!”
5.
“Cheng Xiaoshi,” Lu Guang shouts, voice frantic. “Cheng Xiaoshi—”
Blood rushes in Cheng Xiaoshi’s ears, drowning out Lu Guang’s yells. Somewhere, a whistle blows. There’s no time to shout anything back.
Cheng Xiaoshi scoops the tiny kitten against his chest, sprints for the platform, and desperately reaches out for Lu Guang’s outstretched hand.
For one chilling moment, Cheng Xiaoshi thinks that they won’t make it. His fingers barely brush Lu Guang’s own. The world around him slows; imperceptible, like standing in the eye of a storm, or the moment before a bullet hits. He thinks he sees Lu Guang’s expression crumple.
But then Lu Guang’s lurching forward, dangling precariously over the platform edge. Cheng Xiaoshi grabs his hand, and Lu Guang only just manages to yank him up onto the platform before the train thundering behind him rushes past.
“I made it,” Cheng Xiaoshi gasps.
Something sharp pricks his chest. He looks down, and finds the kitten mewling and squirming against the fabric of his jacket.
His heart squeezes. The kitten is so, so small. Cheng Xiaoshi thinks about it being abandoned on the tracks and left to die alone, and feels a pang of sadness.
“You…”
Cheng Xiaoshi looks up, alarmed. Lu Guang’s chest is heaving. He looks furious.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Lu Guang seethes. “You could’ve died—”
6.
After Qiao Ling leaves, Cheng Xiaoshi turns to Lu Guang, apprehensive.
“Were you really serious about moving in?” he asks, hesitantly.
Lu Guang tilts his head, ever so slightly. He looks genuinely puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
His response is so utterly sincere that Cheng Xiaoshi can’t contain the smile that breaks across his face.
7.
“There are more letters than numbers on my page,” Cheng Xiaoshi complains.
University has been good to him so far. Apart from the times he’s left all his work until the last minute, he’s actually been sailing through most of his classes (take that, Qiao Ling!).
Maths, though? Awful. Horrible. Surely a mandatory course shouldn’t make him want to tear out his own hair, but here he is, close to tearing out his own hair.
Cheng Xiaoshi moves onto the next question, finds it as befuddling as the one that came before it, and promptly gives up.
“Lu Guang,” he whines, watching Lu Guang diligently scratch away at his paper, “how come you know all of this already?”
Lu Guang shrugs. He doesn’t even spare Cheng Xiaoshi a glance. “Because I actually pay attention in class?”
Cheng Xiaoshi crumples his equation sheet, and lobs it at Lu Guang’s head.
8.
“Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi says, hushed.
Curled up on the bed in front of him, Lu Guang continues to whimper. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his hand twitches, fist opening and closing like they’re grasping at invisible strings.
He looks like he’s in pain, and it breaks Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart.
Cheng Xiaoshi reaches out and gently shakes his shoulder. “Lu Guang, wake up.”
It takes a moment, but eventually, Lu Guang’s eyes fly open. He heaves himself into a sitting position, Cheng Xiaoshi’s hands still on his shoulders, and shaking like a leaf the whole time.
“Cheng Xiaoshi?” Lu Guang whispers. His eyes are unfocused, gazing distantly at the opposite wall.
“Just a nightmare,” Cheng Xiaoshi murmurs. He shifts closer so that he’s pressed up next to Lu Guang, and holds him close until his breathing finally evens out.
9.
“Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi mumbles, dejectedly. He holds out his phone. “Please. You’re my only hope.”
Lu Guang gives the screen a cursory glance. It’s a testament to their friendship that understanding dawns on his face almost instantly, and without a word, he presses the ‘warp’ button.
Cheng Xiaoshi watches with tired eyes and no real hope in his heart. He’s long since given up on his endeavour, because his luck on gacha games is beyond abysmal, no matter how many wishing rituals he’s attempted and failed. Lu Guang’s luck is only marginally better than his, but at least it’s better.
Which is what Cheng Xiaoshi thinks—right until the evil gacha train in his game glows gold, much earlier than it’s supposed to glow gold.
He leaps to his feet.
“YESSSS, Lu Guang you’re my saviour, I could kiss you right now—wait—” Cheng Xiaoshi taps on the screen with dawning horror, because that is not the silhouette he wanted to see, “no—NOOOOO—”
10.
Cheng Xiaoshi wriggles in his seat. The movement causes his foot to brush against the table leg, so he makes a face and wriggles some more.
Lu Guang, from the other side of the table, gently aims a kick at his ankle. “Stop moving around. You keep jostling me.”
“And how is that my fault?” Cheng Xiaoshi whines.
Was Lu Guang the one who spent the day walking around in shoes a size too small?! No! Granted, it might have been Cheng Xiaoshi’s fault for not breaking them in, but he isn’t about to admit that.
Lu Guang sighs. Then, he closes the lid of his laptop with a decisive click, before getting up from the table and moving over to the sofa.
Immediately, Cheng Xiaoshi feels a little guilty. He didn’t think his fidgeting had disturbed Lu Guang that much. He would’ve moved somewhere else if he’d known it would.
“Come here,” Lu Guang says, interrupting Cheng Xiaoshi’s train of thought. When Cheng Xiaoshi looks up, he finds Lu Guang patting his lap.
Cheng Xiaoshi blinks. “You want me to sit on you?”
Lu Guang sputters. “NO, you idiot, just—give me your foot.”
“O-kay…”
Lu Guang directs him to lie down on the sofa and place his feet on his lap, which Cheng Xiaoshi does, feeling extremely confused. He slides off Cheng Xiaoshi’s socks without a word, and before Cheng Xiaoshi can crane his neck and ask him what exactly he’s doing, he gently presses the pads of his thumb into the sole of Cheng Xiaoshi’s aching foot.
Cheng Xiaoshi nearly moans. “Lu Guang,” he sighs, in utter bliss, “have I ever told you that you’re the best in the world? How could I ever repay you? Tell me right now because I’ll do it, I swear.”
Even from this distance, Cheng Xiaoshi can make out the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of Lu Guang’s mouth.
“Don’t sound too happy yet,” Lu Guang hums.
“How could I not—” Cheng Xiaoshi starts, right before Lu Guang’s skilful thumbs sweep gently upwards, find a divot in his skin, and dig in like hot coals. “OWWW—LU GUANG—ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME BEFORE WE GRADUATE—”
11.
The camera shutter clicks, and Cheng Xiaoshi bounds over to look at the picture.
“Aw, Lu Guang, I’m blurry,” he complains.
Lu Guang stays silent. He’s staring at a point in the distance, mouth slightly parted—looking almost like he’s realised something.
Cheng Xiaoshi waves a hand in front of his face. “... You okay?”
Lu Guang blinks. His gaze snaps back to Cheng Xiaoshi. Like this, the permanent wrinkle in his brow looks even more pronounced.
“I’ll take another one,” he says, and the moment is lost.
12.
Cheng Xiaoshi has never laughed so much in his life.
“Why—” he wheezes, almost doubling over, “why are you packing—a raincoat, a summer coat, a winter coat, gloves, a bucket hat—”
Lu Guang coughs loudly. His cheeks are so adorably red.
“I—Someone told me the weather in Bridon is unpredictable,” he mumbles.
He looks so lost, swimming in a sea of clothes and suitcases that look like a hurricane passed through it recently that Cheng Xiaoshi can’t help it; he throws his head back and cackles.
Lu Guang flushes even harder. He glances down at the scarf in his hand, and scowls. To his credit, he does try to throw the offending item out of sight, but the damage is already done.
Grinning, Cheng Xiaoshi stealthily takes out his phone.
“Cheng Xiaoshi, don’t you dare take a picture—”
13.
“They’re giving out food,” Cheng Xiaoshi yawns, as he drops back into his seat. “Do you want chicken or beef?”
Lu Guang says quiet. Cheng Xiaoshi isn’t surprised—he’s been really absorbed in his book since the plane took off.
“Lu Guang?”
There’s still no response from his partner. That’s a little suspicious, but maybe it's the plane pressure, or something.
Cheng Xiaoshi knocks his fingers against Lu Guang’s forehead. Weirdly, Lu Guang doesn’t even budge—not even when Cheng Xiaoshi accidentally dislodges his neck pillow in the process.
That makes Cheng Xiaoshi frown. “Hey, Lu Guang, do you want—”
Sniff.
Cheng Xiaoshi freezes. Lu Guang, eyes trained on the same page he’s been stuck on for the past ten minutes, lifts his book to cover his face.
“Lu Guang, are you crying?” Cheng Xiaoshi says incredulously.
“No,” Lu Guang hisses back. He’s definitely teary. Cheng Xiaoshi lets this knowledge sink in with growing glee. “Stop looking at me, I’m fine—”
“No way you’re crying, I thought you said this book was a comedy—!”
14.
“Hey, Lu Guang!” Cheng Xiaoshi calls, beckoning to him with his free hand. “Does this remind you of anyone?
Lu Guang puts down the postcard he’s inspecting, and walks over. Cheng Xiaoshi proudly holds out his discovery, making sure he hands Lu Guang the duck handle first.
Lu Guang simply stares at it, expression blank.
“It reminds me of you,” Cheng Xiaoshi says encouragingly.
For his efforts, he gets treated to the wonderful sight of the gears visibly turning in Lu Guang’s head. “I remind you,” Lu Guang says, slowly, “of a duck umbrella?”
“Well, this shop has no cat umbrellas, but a duck is close enough, don’t you think?”
“Cheng Xiaoshi, what does that even mean—”
15.
“Move back,” Lu Guang calls, motioning with his hand. Cheng Xiaoshi shuffles backwards, and poses again. “A little more—there.”
Cheng Xiaoshi waits for Lu Guang to lower the phone, before he steps out of frame. “Did you get it?”
Lu Guang holds out his phone. Cheng Xiaoshi leans over—and there it is. The crowning photo of their trip: a shot of Cheng Xiaoshi holding the city’s famous clocktower in the distance between his fingertips.
“Hah!” Cheng Xiaoshi cries, triumphant. “Wait ‘til Qiao Ling sees this, she’ll be so jealous.”
16.
Cheng Xiaoshi, dressed in one measly shirt, is drenched.
Lu Guang? He’s having the time of his life, bundled snugly in the long raincoat he so meticulously packed for a summer trip. Seriously, despite the situation they’re in—who takes a coat on a summer trip?!
Apparently, Bridon is the kind of place which requires coats in the summer.
And he has the audacity to look smug about it. Cheng Xiaoshi kind of wants to wipe that look off his face, somehow. Even if Lu Guang is the one holding the duck umbrella over the both of them, thus preventing Cheng Xiaoshi from getting even more drenched.
The silence stretches on. Lu Guang gives him a knowing look. The barest hint of a smirk graces his absurdly pretty face.
“... I’m not saying anything,” Cheng Xiaoshi grumbles, pointedly looking the other way.
17.
Cheng Xiaoshi, stop freaking out.
HOW, Cheng Xiaoshi wants to scream, because he’s no longer Cheng Xiaoshi, but a beautiful woman on the arm of a very handsome man.
The woman in the picture was on a date with her husband. Just do as I say and you’ll be fine.
How are you so calm about this!! Cheng Xiaoshi thinks back furiously. He has no idea how their newfound telepathy works, but he hopes with enough willpower on his end it translates into the equivalent of panicked screaming on Lu Guang’s side, because that is very much what he feels right now. This is my first time doing this—what if I mess up her date entirely, or get her divorced, or—
“Sweetheart?”
The man—his husband?—is looking at Cheng Xiaoshi with an amused smile. Cheng Xiaoshi opens his mouth to respond, but his brain helpfully comes up with absolutely nothing when the man swiftly leans down, crowding right into his space.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” the man murmurs, his breath fanning over the shell of Cheng Xiaoshi’s ear. Cheng Xiaoshi has to fight off his shiver. “You’ve been distracted, today.”
“Yes!” Cheng Xiaoshi squeaks.
His heart is pounding in his chest, rabbit-quick. The woman must be nervous. It's her husband, though. Has he fucked something up, somehow?
The man smiles at him, and—oh.
It’s an arresting smile, one that perfectly accentuates the softness of his dimples. A charming smile. Disarming, even. Every synonym of those words in the thesaurus, is what his smile is.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth dries. He feels his knees go weak. Suddenly, he understands why the woman feels so light-headed around him.
Cheng Xiaoshi, focus.
Even from the other side of time, Cheng Xiaoshi feels like he can perfectly visualise Lu Guang’s exasperation.
It smacks him out of his dive-induced lovestruck stupor. He grits his teeth, and squirrels all his focus on not tripping up in the woman’s heels. YOU try focusing when your HOT HUSBAND SEDUCES you in the middle of the STREET—
18.
They wheel their suitcases over the threshold of the studio at exactly ten minutes past eleven.
“Home sweet home,” yawns Cheng Xiaoshi.
He rests his suitcase against the wall before making a beeline for the sofa, sighing happily as he sprawls across it. Travelling was fun, but nothing beats the familiarity and comfort of home.
As if on cue, his stomach growls.
“Do we have any food in the fridge?” Cheng Xiaoshi asks hopefully.
Lu Guang opens the fridge door. It creaks, pitifully.
Cheng Xiaoshi sighs, and braces himself for a trip to the convenience store. After five minutes, maybe. He deserves that much.
“You rest. I’ll go,” says Lu Guang. “I’m not that tired, anyway.”
Cheng Xiaoshu looks up in surprise. “You don’t have to. I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lu Guang tells him. He shrugs off his coat, and grabs a lighter jacket from the door. “Get an early night.”
Cheng Xiaoshi contemplates tagging along anyway, but Lu Guang’s right. He is exhausted, and he figures he’ll be more of a liability than a helping hand at this point.
Lu Guang is looking at him expectantly, keys in hand. He juts his chin out, and gestures towards the sofa.
“You’re the best,” Cheng Xiaoshi decides, before he snuggles into the sofa cushions to doze until Lu Guang returns.
19.
“You’re doing great,” Cheng Xiaoshi says cheerily.
It’s funny. On land, Lu Guang’s steps are always practised and confident, but the minute he steps on the ice, he’s wobbling like a newborn fawn. Cheng Xiaoshi wonders whether he should hover a hand at his back, just in case he really does go toppling again, but the glare Lu Guang shoots at him when he tries has him withdrawing his hands sheepishly.
Hey, he’s just trying to preserve Lu Guang’s dignity. What’s left of it, that is.
“Please be quiet,” Lu Guang groans, face rather sullen.
Cheng Xiaoshi simply laughs in his face. He keeps laughing, even as Lu Guang scowls at him petulantly and tries to skate away in a huff.
Key word being tries, because his balance is not quite there yet. Good thing Cheng Xiaoshi has a fast reaction time; he manages to grab Lu Guang’s hand before his partner gets a faceful of cold hard ice.
“Maybe you should hold onto me from now on,” Cheng Xiaoshi suggests playfully.
Lu Guang pants, his breaths billowing into little clouds in front of him. The tips of his ears are so red. Cheng Xiaoshi can’t keep the smile off his face.
Honestly, his embarrassment is kind of cute. Cheng Xiaoshi wishes he kept his phone with him, instead of leaving it on the side of the rink. Lu Guang would probably try to kill him if he took a picture, but it would be so worth it.
“Lu Guang!” Qiao Ling waves, skating past them. She’s done several laps around the rink already. Show-off, thinks Cheng Xiaoshi fondly.
Qiao Ling takes one look at their clasped hands, and at Lu Guang’s look of bashful despair, and giggles. “How’s the impromptu lesson going?”
“Amazing!” says Cheng Xiaoshi.
“Terrible,” says Lu Guang, still resembling a tomato.
“Aw, Guangguang, you’re not that bad—!”
20.
“I know they’ll come back—I know—” Cheng Xiaoshi gasps, “but sometimes when I’m alone and it’s too quiet I just—I can’t help but think—“
His throat makes a guttural sound, and he lets go of Lu Guang’s jacket. His hands come up to shield his head of their own accord. It’s a reflex he’s always had, and tried to grow out of with Qiao Ling’s help but never quite managed to, but what good is a reflex if it never truly staves away those childhood fears—
“Don’t,” Lu Guang says, quietly. He takes Cheng Xiaoshi’s hands between his own, and draws them close to his own chest. His palms are warm. “You can let it out. I’ll listen.”
21.
Qiao Ling is the first one to notice. “Lu Guang, your cap!”
Lu Guang’s hands reach up to touch his head, where his cap should be resting. When his fingers meet empty air, he frowns.
Cheng Xiaoshi whirls around, peering at the direction Qiao Ling’s finger is pointing at. Sure enough, he spots the cap gleefully flying away into the sunset.
“It’s fine, leave it,” Lu Guang is saying.
Instead, Cheng Xiaoshi does what he does best—he ignores Lu Guang entirely, and dives for the cap.
His foot catches on something hard and it’s definitely not his most graceful save, but he just manages to close his fingers around the tassels before he goes tumbling onto the ground.
“Cheng Xiaoshi!”
“I’m fine,” he says, waving off his friends’ concern. He accepts Dong Yi’s outstretched hand, and pulls himself to his feet, before turning to an exasperated Lu Guang. “Lu Guang, you should really be pinning this—what if your cap flew off again and I wasn’t around to save it? You’d be capless for all of your graduation pictures!”
Lu Guang sighs. “I’d be fine without a cap.”
“You say that, but you’ll regret it when you’re an old man and your grandkids ask why you don’t have a graduation cap.”
“Wouldn’t they be asking why you have mud all over your trousers?”
“Over my—” Cheng Xiaoshi looks down, and nearly keels over at the sight. “Oh shit—”
22.
the best partner in the world [14:07]: i forgot to mention
the best partner in the world [14:07]: but could u pixk up some garlic
the best partner in the world [14:07]: we’ve run out :((
Lu Guang [14:09]: How many?
the best partner in the world [14:10]: 4 or so??
Lu Guang [14:10]:👍
the best partner in the world [14:10]: ur the best (─‿‿─)♡
23.
Cheng Xiaoshi rarely goes up to the bunk bed—mainly because Lu Guang has expressly forbidden him to do so after a night of drinking that he doesn’t even remember—but he thinks that sometimes there are understandable exceptions.
Like today, for example, where he has to perch on the rungs to corner a certain avoidant someone.
“You are so bad at pretending that you’re fine,” Cheng Xiaoshi tells Lu Guang sternly.
Lu Guang slaps a hand over his mouth, and makes a sad attempt to suppress his cough. He fails, miserably, and ends up curling into his crumpled blanket instead.
Cheng Xiaoshi feels a twinge of sympathy. Lu Guang sounds so pitifully congested, and Cheng Xiaoshi knows that he would rather die than be seen like this if he wasn’t so ill.
“M’not ill,” Lu Guang protests feebly.
Cheng Xiaoshi’s concern evaporates like hot water.
Not ill?! Lu Guang is a big fat liar. He can hardly summon the energy to crawl down the ladder, and he says he’s fine?!
“Oh yeah? What’s this then?” Cheng Xiaoshi challenges. He points to the bin, nearly overflowing with tissues. “And this?” A pile of clothes left uncharacteristically in the middle of the floor. “And this?” The ultimate offence: his current book, discarded carelessly on the floor.
Or not carelessly. Perhaps it was dropped absentmindedly. Perhaps it slipped from Lu Guang’s fingers because he was too ill to even read.
Cheng Xiaoshi tries to convey this sentiment with his stare. Lu Guang’s response is to simply blink at him, dazed.
He reminds Cheng Xiaoshi of an overgrown cat. A sick, overgrown cat.
“... Hayfever,” is Lu Guang’s woeful excuse.
Now Cheng Xiaoshi really wants to thump him. “It’s winter! Where’s the pollen?!”
Lu Guang closes his eyes, almost like he’s pained. The movement he makes next—more a sad flap of limbs than anything else, really—is something Cheng Xiaoshi can only describe as wilting.
Against his better judgment, his heart softens. It’s hardly Lu Guang’s fault that he’s sick, he supposes—even if it is his fault that he chooses to be so unendingly stubborn about it.
“At least let me make you some soup,” Cheng Xiaoshi sighs.
Lu Guang deflates. For a moment, he seems to wrestle with himself—over what, Cheng Xiaoshi has no idea, because isn’t it just nice to be taken care of by your friends?!—but finally, he nods.
24.
Later, when Cheng Xiaoshi sets the bowl of soup on the nightstand and turns to leave, Lu Guang tugs on his sleeve.
“Thanks, Xiaoshi,” Lu Guang whispers.
Cheng Xiaoshi smiles at him. “Anytime,” he says, feeling unbearably fond. He leans down to poke Lu Guang’s cheek. It’s so soft, just like mochi. “Get well soon, okay?”
Predictably, Lu Guang bats him away. “Don’t come near me, you’ll get sick.”
“Oh?” Cheng Xiaoshi grins. Lu Guang’s already turning around to face the wall, but Cheng Xiaoshi isn’t that easily deterred. He parks himself on the edge of the bed, and gets comfortable. “I’ll get what now? Say it louder, I don’t think I heard the first time…”
25.
Cheng Xiaoshi wakes up in the morning feeling like someone took a hammer to his head. He groans.
“Told you,” the bed above him mumbles.
26.
Lu Guang sets the razor down on the sink. “Why do you keep laughing,” he says, exasperated.
“I can’t help it,” Cheng Xiaoshi wails. “I don’t know where to look!”
“You don’t have to look at me. Can’t you close your eyes?”
He could, but then he’d be left with the knowledge that Lu Guang would be incredibly close to his face, and then Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn’t know what to do with his own face, and then he’d laugh all over again and it would be ultimately useless.
But the alternative is looking Lu Guang in the eye as he tips Cheng Xiaoshi’s face back, all sharp intent, and gently scrapes the razor across his cheek.
Cheng Xiaoshi squirms in his chair. He tries to swallow in the most subtle way he can, and ends up gulping like a fish out of water.
“You’re going to end up with cuts on your face,” Lu Guang informs him, utterly oblivious.
Cheng Xiaoshi decides on the safest route: feigning indifference. “I won’t if you’re careful about it,” he shoots back. “Honestly, Lu Guang, you don’t know how lucky you have it. You’re so baby-faced, I don’t think you could even—”
Lu Guang groans. “Stop talking,” he orders, before swiping his thumb over Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth.
Cheng Xiaoshi freezes. The pad of Lu Guang’s thumb presses soft and insistent against Cheng Xiaoshi’s top lip. It’s probably chapped, he thinks despairingly, cursing himself for not using lip balm when he had the chance.
Above him, Lu Guang freezes, too—one hand cradling Cheng Xiaoshi’s chin, the other hot at his mouth. They’re so close they could share the same breath.
“Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi breathes.
Lu Guang makes a strangled noise. Then, he swipes a glob of the shaving cream from Cheng Xiaoshi’s cheek, and dumps it onto his nose.
“Lu Guanggg—”
27.
“No more noodles,” Cheng Xiaoshi begs. “If I eat another single noodle I’m going to—I don’t know. I’ll actually turn into a noodle.”
“You’re in luck,” Lu Guang says, grimly. He holds up a bag, rattling it so that the contents shake.
Cheng Xiaoshi perks up. The relief that washes over him is so soothing he could cry. He has to dive again tonight, and he would probably end up changing the past if he was so sick of the damn noodles that he couldn’t even eat them, and then Lu Guang would scold him again, which would suck for everyone involved.
Cheng Xiaoshi pokes his head in the bag, optimistic. He hopes Lu Guang brought them something good. Fried rice would be nice. Dumplings would be even nicer.
… Sandwiches? Not so much.
“Ugghhhhhhhhh.” Cheng Xiaoshi groans. He sinks further into his seat, and rubs his eyes. “How poor are we?”
A beat passes. The corner of Lu Guang’s mouth twitches.
“... Don’t answer that.”
28.
When Cheng Xiaoshi heads downstairs hours after his usual morning alarm, he finds Lu Guang in the sunroom, reading his book. He gives Cheng Xiaoshi a cursory glance when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, before looking away.
They’re still not talking. It’s hardly strange—they’ve fought before, and Cheng Xiaoshi’s familiar with how Lu Guang awkwardly hovers when they do, and Lu Guang knows intimately when to push and where to press when Cheng Xiaoshi makes himself scarce.
Still, Cheng Xiaoshi is usually quick to forgive. If this was one of their usual arguments, his anger would have thawed overnight, and they would’ve opened the shop as usual by now.
Right now, though, the memory of Chen Xiao’s mother’s last breath as she shielded his body, her cooling hand over his, still stings.
Cheng Xiaoshi shakes his head, forcing the memory from his mind. Grimacing, he makes his way over to the kitchen counter, intent on making breakfast in pointed silence.
He stops in his tracks. There’s a steaming mug of coffee already on the counter, sitting innocuously on his favourite coaster. He lifts the mug to his lips, and takes a hesitant sip. Two sugars, no milk—exactly how he likes it.
Cheng Xiaoshi chances a glance towards the sunroom. Lu Guang is still staring at his book.
“... Thanks,” Cheng Xiaoshi says, slowly.
Lu Guang hums in response.
Cheng Xiaoshi sets his coffee down. As he bustles around to find some porridge, he hears the page flip.
29.
Cheng Xiaoshi! Cheng Xiaoshi!!
The world around him is a blur. All he remembers is diving into Doudou’s picture, and then—
Cheng Xiaoshi! Don’t close your eyes—CHENG XIAOSHI!
30.
Cheng Xiaoshi rests his chin on Lu Guang’s shoulder. Predictably, he gets pushed off, but that doesn’t stop him from slinging his arms around Lu Guang anyway.
“Are you really sure we can’t help on that case?” he whines.
Lu Guang shakes his head in a firm no. As Cheng Xiaoshi pouts, he can’t help but notice that Lu Guang’s hair is unbelievably soft when it brushes against his own cheek.
31.
“What do you mean, the photo studio’s haunted?
“... I heard a noise.”
“Lu Guang, that doesn’t mean it’s haunted.”
“You don’t understand—there was someone inside. I heard the plates move.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Qiao Ling?”
“The doorbell didn’t go off. And Qiao Ling-jie would’ve announced herself.”
“So are you just going to stand outside for the rest of the night…?”
“... Yes.”
“Fine, you big baby. I’ll go in and check if anyone’s there.” A long-suffering sigh. “And then you’re coming back in! And we can go back to sleep.”
32.
“See, I told you there was no one there!” The click of a button. “I even took a photo for you and everything, since you wouldn’t hear me out—”
“Cheng Xiaoshi, what is that.”
“... okay, so he wasn’t there when I took the photo.” A pause. “This is just like this one Wii game Qiao Ling and I used to play.” A longer pause. Possibly accompanied by cricket chirps. “Man, he’s tall—”
“I’m burning the studio—”
“LU GUANG, THAT IS MY PARENTS’ STUDIO. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE GOING TO BURN IT—”
33.
The sound of retching wakes him up.
Cheng Xiaoshi rubs his eyes blearily, before sitting up in bed. “Lu Guang?” he calls, voice hoarse with sleep.
He’s met with silence.
Cheng Xiaoshi frowns. He could’ve sworn…
Someone coughs from the bathroom. It’s muffled, as if they’re covering their mouth, but it’s definitely there.
Cheng Xiaoshi swings his legs over the side of the bed and pads over to the bathroom. He switches the light on, only to find Lu Guang, slumped on the floor, with his damp forehead pressed against the tile.
He drops next to him. “This again?” Cheng Xiaoshi murmurs, rubbing slow circles into Lu Guang’s back.
“Sorry,” Lu Guang rasps. The harsh glare of the bathroom light highlights the sickly pallor of his skin. His eyes, squeezed shut, are ringed with darker shadows than usual. Cheng Xiaoshi feels a stab of guilt. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
“You idiot,” Cheng Xiaoshi chides. “I’m more annoyed that you didn’t wake me.”
34.
Cheng Xiaoshi dusts his hands off, and steps back to admire his handiwork—that being Lu Guang, now wrapped so snugly in his blankets that he looks more like a cute caterpillar in a cocoon than a boy sweating out his pyjamas.
“All done!” Cheng Xiaoshi says brightly.
Lu Guang doesn’t respond, his eyes already slipping shut. He looks better than he did in the bathroom, at least, but not by a large margin. Cheng Xiaoshi rakes a hand through his hair, feeling too jittery to go back to sleep.
He worries about Lu Guang. He tries not to, but it’s nearly impossible to stay unconcerned when Lu Guang’s starting to get sick far too often for Cheng Xiaoshi’s liking, and who for some reason, refuses to see anyone about it. Even Qiao Ling’s threats to personally drag him to a doctor’s practice hadn’t worked. Lu Guang just… gets sick, and then recovers, and gets sick again, and acts like it’s normal.
Which—fine, normal people also do that. But not to this severity, surely.
So Cheng Xiaoshi worries. Lu Guang isn’t telling him something—and that’s fine, but—
“Your hair,” Lu Guang mumbles.
Cheng Xiaoshi jolts. He thought Lu Guang was asleep. Instead, slate grey eyes are peeking at him tiredly from the cocoon, so Cheng Xiaoshi quickly schools his face into one he hopes betrays none of his worry.
“Hm? Something wrong with my hair?” He twirls a strand of his bangs around his finger, then lets it go, so it curls over his forehead. “Now that you mention it, I’ve been meaning to cut it… Lu Guang, do you think I should cut it short? Embrace the new year?”
Cheng Xiaoshi ends his question on a half-yelp, half-squeak, because all of a sudden, Lu Guang is grabbing his hand with surprising ferocity.
“No,” Lu Guang stresses, before promptly passing out.
Cheng Xiaoshi blinks, dumbfounded. “Lu Guang?” He disentangles Lu Guang’s fingers from his wrist, and taps his forehead, feeling extremely confused. There’s no response. “Huh. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about my hair.”
35.
> [A selfie of Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling, crammed in one frame, and sporting twin expressions of terror. Qiao Ling is wearing a face mask and a bunny-eared headband. Cheng Xiaoshi has coffee smeared on the edges of his mouth. Captioned: SAVE US GUANGGUANGGGGG]
>>> [A selfie of Lu Guang from below, taken while he is walking outside. The sunlight illuminates his face in a warm golden glow. He’s wearing a black bucket hat and a deadpan expression. Captioned: what happened]
> [A selfie of Qiao Ling in the foreground, pointing at the counter. Cheng Xiaoshi is standing on the sofa in the background, gripping a broom with both hands. He is staring at the counter with a mix of intent and poorly-concealed fear.]
> [A picture of the counter, zoomed in by approximately 6x. Shown: a large, hairy brown spider, nestled in the corner of the stovetop.]
> [A picture of Cheng Xiaoshi hunched over on the sofa, looking vaguely traumatised. Captioned: IT JUMPED ON HIS FACE AND NOW IT’S GONE WHAT DO WE DO]
> [A selfie of Cheng Xiaoshi, huddled in bed. The blankets are drawn up so they cover the bottom half of his face. His eyes are scrunched up, glimmering with fake tears. Captioned: GUANGGUANG YOU ARE SO CRUEL IN MY HOUR OF NEED]
>>> [A picture of Lu Guang’s hand, holding up a plastic bag. Just about recognisable are three bobas inside. Captioned: Sorry i was occupied]
> [A picture of their bedroom ceiling, blurred and dark. Captioned: THANK YOU PLEASE COME HOME FAST]
36.
“Stay safe,” Lu Guang says, quietly.
He reaches out, and touches Cheng Xiaoshi’s arm. His fingers barely brush against the swathe of skin left exposed where Cheng Xiaoshi’s jacket is slipping off his shoulders, but his touch burns nonetheless.
Cheng Xiaoshi swallows, throat dry. “Don’t worry about me,” he promises, as he brings his hands together. “I’ll be fine.”
The last thing he sees before he dives into Xu Shanshan’s photo is Lu Guang, opening his mouth to say something that he can’t quite catch.
37.
“I don’t understand,” Cheng Xiaoshi whispers, dully. “Why didn’t you call for me? I would’ve left the dive then and there, you know that. So why…?” His voice cracks, jagged as a rock edge. “Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?”
Instead, Lu Guang had bled out into their sofa, and didn’t even think to call out to the people who cared for him the most in the world—
Beneath Cheng Xiaoshi’s shaking hands, Lu Guang continues to sleep.
38.
With a snap, Cheng Xiaoshi jerks back into the world of the present.
His breathing is harsh, erratic in his ears, like the pounding of a beating drum. Snatches of memory flash in his mind—the flurry of punches and kicks—his (no, the girl’s) mother, so close to death—the roar of a crazed husband—
“Cheng Xiaoshi, are you alright?” Lu Guang asks him, urgent.
Distantly, Cheng Xiaoshi realises that the only thing preventing him from toppling backwards onto the floor is Lu Guang’s hold on his own arm, steady as an anchor.
“I’m fine,” Cheng Xiaoshi says, dizzy. “The photo—”
39.
“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” Cheng Xiaoshi mutters, as he passes Lu Guang by to take his place in the spotlight.
He thought Lu Guang would be reassured. Instead, his eyes widen, and he looks what Cheng Xiaoshi can only describe as terrified.
His suspicions are all but confirmed when, as soon as the trapdoor opens, Lu Guang spins on his heel and screams Cheng Xiaoshi’s name.
That can’t be good for his wound at all, is what Cheng Xiaoshi thinks grimly, before he lands on the underground level to face off with Li Tianchen.
40.
Cheng Xiaoshi gets shot, and it hurts like a bitch. But Qiao Ling is safe, which is what matters.
What surprises him is the sound that tears itself from Lu Guang’s throat.
His devastation is so raw, so tormented, and it sounds almost animalistic in his grief. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t think any human could make that sound, let alone Lu Guang—and he keeps screaming wildly even when he throws himself at Qian Jin with reckless abandon, leaving himself completely open against an armed man—
Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart lurches with fear. With newfound strength, he wrenches himself to his feet.
41.
Cheng Xiaoshi must’ve blacked out for a second after Qian Jin goes down, because he comes to in Lu Guang’s arms, being gripped like a lifeline.
“Qiao Ling, Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi manages, “are you two okay?”
Qiao Ling nods. She looks shaken, but there’s no blood on her, and Cheng Xiaoshi almost sags with relief. If she got hurt, he would never forgive himself.
He tilts his head up to look at Lu Guang, hovering above him. The sight of him makes his breath stutter.
“Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi says, uncertainly. Then, more urgently, when Lu Guang doesn’t respond, “Lu Guang, hey, talk to me—”
“You’re fine?” Lu Guang cuts in. His eyes are wild, and his voice is rough. His hands squeeze sharply against the wound, and Cheng Xiaoshi can’t help but wince. “Cheng Xiaoshi, you’re—”
“I’m okay,” Cheng Xiaoshi pants. “Just grazed—agh—”
Lu Guang startles like he’s been slapped. He yanks his hand back, and it comes away stained dark crimson. His face turns ashen.
“We need an ambulance,” Lu Guang shouts. His voice, always so sure, is shaking. “Now, or they won’t get here in time—”
“I’ve got it,” Captain Xiao says, stepping in with his phone already to his ear.
The terror is still raw on Lu Guang's face, as visceral as an open, bloody wound. Cheng Xiaoshi thinks, distantly, that he isn’t meant to see any of this—any of the fear that Lu Guang guards so closely to his heart—but in a way, he’s relieved to be able to see it. Just once.
“Lu Guang, I’m really fine—” Cheng Xiaoshi says, trying to sound reassuring, except he doesn’t quite manage to finish his sentence and erupts into a coughing fit instead, which—yeah, that doesn’t sound good.
Lu Guang makes a wretched sound. He gathers Cheng Xiaoshi in his arms, almost crushing him to his chest. On his other side, Qiao Ling stumbles to her feet, and runs over to take Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand in her own. Her eyes are brimming with tears.
Cheng Xiaoshi heaves a breath, fighting the surge of dizziness threatening to overwhelm him, and clutches the back of Lu Guang’s shirt with everything he has.
42.
“I spy with my little eye… something beginning with… S.”
“Cheng Xiaoshi, we’ve been playing I-Spy for an hour now. Just because you played the game with a child on the bus for an hour straight in Bridon doesn’t mean that we have to do the same here.”
“Well, unless you have any better games to play while we’re still stuck in the hospital and our phones are dead?”
“... Fine.” The sound of rustling sheets; Lu Guang’s probably getting comfortable in his bed. “... Sun.”
“Nope!”
“The sky?”
“Nope!”
“Sunflowers?”
“No!”
Lu Guang sighs. “What is it,” he says dutifully.
Cheng Xiaoshi crosses his arms behind his head, and grins. “Slippers.”
“... They’re under my bed, how does that count?”
43.
“It is so good to be back,” Cheng Xiaoshi sighs happily, around a forkful of cake. “I almost forgot what real food tasted like.”
Qiao Ling wrinkles her nose. With no warning, she whacks Cheng Xiaoshi on the shoulder, making him yelp.
“You’re spraying crumbs on me. Eat with your mouth shut!”
“Am not—”
They squabble for a while, falling into practiced motions more for the familiar mundanity of it than to seek an actual argument. Once Cheng Xiaoshi’s finally managed to push away Qiao Ling’s evil fingers, he chances a glance at their third member, who’s been suspiciously quiet this whole time (well, more quiet than he usually is).
“Guangguang, what’s with the long face?” Cheng Xiaoshi laughs. “We’re home!”
Lu Guang gives him a dry look. Cheng Xiaoshi half-expects him to call him an insult, but his expression remains pensive.
He’s been doing that a lot, recently. Gazing into the distance with a complicated expression on his face when he thinks no one’s looking at him, so lost in his own thoughts that it takes far more than even a hand waving in front of his face to jog him out of it.
Like this, Cheng Xiaoshi can never quite place whether Lu Guang looks happy or not. Since today’s supposed to be a happy day, he kind of hates that.
Qiao Ling nudges his arm and gives him a pointed look, but Cheng Xiaoshi’s already on the case. With renewed determination, he grabs a fork.
“Here, have some cake. It’ll cheer you up,” Cheng Xiaoshi says. Lu Guang furrows his brow, looking mildly confused. He only looks affronted—and more like himself, Cheng Xiaoshi notes with satisfaction—when Cheng Xiaoshi employs his airplane tactic. “Say ‘aah’~”
“Cheng Xiaoshi—”
44.
Despite all of Cheng Xiaoshi’s whining and his best impression of a man on his deathbed, Lu Guang refuses to carry him to their room.
Heartless, Cheng Xiaoshi thinks petulantly, directing his thoughts at Lu Guang’s back as he ascends the stairs and ignores him completely. Heartless!
No dice. Lu Guang doesn’t receive his astral projections, and Cheng Xiaoshi’s left all alone.
Since he’s been ceremoniously abandoned in the living room, Cheng Xiaoshi ends up lounging on the sofa for the rest of the night. He doesn’t do much; just taps away absentmindedly on his phone until it tells him it has low battery, and then keeps tapping away at it until it finally dies.
Eventually, Cheng Xiaoshi leans over the armrest to plug his phone in to charge. He flops back onto the sofa, and tips his head back.
It’s pitch-black outside. The clock reads five past midnight, but weeks of being cooped up at the hospital have left him bored, restless, and with a horrendous sleep schedule to boot.
Well. With no one else to talk to, he supposes there’s no better time to fix that last one then the present.
Cheng Xiaoshi yawns, and unplugs his phone before heading up the steps to their room. Once inside, he shucks off his socks and kicks them to the corner of the room. For a brief moment, he deliberates tidying the place before he goes to sleep, before ultimately deciding against it. Lu Guang is asleep, and Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t want to disturb him.
Cheng Xiaoshi crawls into bed, relishing in the familiar comfort of his own sheets and pillow. Somehow, it’s so nice being back in his own rickety bed, where the springs of the mattress dig into his back, and his head rests on a pillow that’s so flat he should probably replace it before he gets permanent neck damage.
His phone has just enough charge now that he can set an alarm, so he swipes to unlock it. Before he can get to his alarms, though, the bed above him creaks a low groan; once, and then again, too deliberate to be an unconscious movement.
“Cheng Xiaoshi?”
Cheng Xiaoshi grimaces. Hurriedly, he switches his phone off. “Sorry, is the light disturbing you?”
“No,” Lu Guang says, sounding too far too hesitant for Cheng Xiaoshi’s liking. He pauses, and Cheng Xiaoshi watches the bedframe dip slightly as Lu Guang shifts in his own bed. “... Don’t worry about it. Good night.”
“Hang on, Lu Guang,” Cheng Xiaoshi interrupts hastily. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” Lu Guang emphasises. His voice hitches; barely noticeable to anyone else, but Cheng Xiaoshi has spent years with him, so he understands the distinction immediately. “Go to sleep.”
It’s difficult to wrangle anything out of Lu Guang on a good day, let alone without the awkwardness hanging over the two of them now, like a dark cloud. They still haven’t talked about what happened in the subway. Whenever Cheng Xiaoshi tries to bring it up, the conversation somehow moulds itself into different topic, and Cheng Xiaoshi’s left trailing off, questions unanswered.
But remembering the sheer heartbreak written plain across Lu Guang’s face on that day hurts worse.
Cheng Xiaoshi slips out of bed, and climbs the rungs to the top bunk. He finds Lu Guang under his blankets, arms wrapped around himself. His face is half-illuminated under the moonlight shimmering through the window.
At first glance, Lu Guang looks no different. He still has those striking eyes, and that same gorgeous hair framing his sharp features in a way that makes it impossible for Cheng Xiaoshi to look away sometimes.
But underneath it all, Lu Guang just looks so tired.
“... You won’t tell me?” Cheng Xiaoshi says, quietly. He doesn’t quite manage to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Can’t?”
Lu Guang exhales, slow and shaky. “It’s really nothing,” he murmurs. “You’re overthinking again. I’m just tired from the hospital stay.”
Cheng Xiaoshi thinks about how Lu Guang’s been looking at him recently, when he thinks Cheng Xiaoshi isn’t watching. Like he’ll disappear into thin air, or do something reckless again the minute he leaves Lu Guang’s sight.
He’s not stupid. Something really did change Lu Guang that day in the subway, and made him freak out so badly that it’s been haunting him since. But he’s so stubbornly tight-lipped about it. Not even Cheng Xiaoshi can coax him out of this silence.
Cheng Xiaoshi huffs a laugh, subdued.
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll be here when you want to talk about it.”
Lu Guang averts his eyes. “Yeah.”
“But can I at least give you a hug?”
The way Lu Guang snaps back to attention, mouth agape, is almost funny. His eyes are as wide as saucers. “What?”
“You’ve been upset ever since we came back from the hospital,” Cheng Xiaoshi explains. “Today’s supposed to be a happy day, and I hate seeing you sad.” He reaches out, and touches the back of Lu Guang’s hand. It’s smaller than his own, and a little dry—yet still so strong. “Please?”
Cheng Xiaoshi expects to be refused. He steels himself to push for it anyway, late night be damned. If Lu Guang gives him another look of naked longing but still tries to rebut his attempts at comfort again, he’ll just have to—he doesn’t know. Do something more drastic, maybe.
To his surprise, though, Lu Guang just stares at him incredulously, before hunching into himself.
“... Alright,” Lu Guang says, quietly. “Just this once.”
Cheng Xiaoshi stares at him, astonished. He really had been expecting more pushback. He’d had a whole mental list ready to go, too (10 Reasons Why You Should Accept the Hug Your Partner’s Been Trying To Give You for Two Months Straight!!) so this is not what he expected… at all, really.
He must take too long to respond, because Lu Guang bristles. “Did you change your mind?” he says, stiffly. “If so, you don’t have to—oof.”
The bed makes an alarming sound, but thankfully it stays intact as Cheng Xiaoshi envelopes Lu Guang in the tightest hug he can muster. He tucks Lu Guang’s head under his chin, and manoeuvres their legs so that they slot together comfortably. Lu Guang’s own hands hover over Cheng Xiaoshi, uncertain, before they finally settle on his back.
“You’re warm,” Lu Guang whispers. He sounds kind of amazed.
Cheng Xiaoshi smiles. “What can I say? I run hot.”
Lu Guang’s arms tighten around him. The comforting pressure of it makes Cheng Xiaoshi almost lightheaded with happiness. He closes his eyes and tries to savour the moment: the way Lu Guang’s hair tickles his own nose, the familiar scent of the cologne he likes to use, the steady warmth of his heartbeat, beating strongly even between two layers of clothes.
If something had gone wrong that day, one of them might not even be laying here right now. The thought of returning to an empty room makes Cheng Xiaoshi ache.
As if he’d heard his thoughts, Lu Guang presses closer. His breath is warm against the pulse at Cheng Xiaoshi’s neck. The last time they were this close, Cheng Xiaoshi thinks, was when Lu Guang held him in the subway.
“I’m sorry that I made you cry, back then,” Cheng Xiaoshi says, gentle.
Lu Guang’s shoulders stiffen, but Cheng Xiaoshi interrupts him before he can draw away. “I didn’t mean to. But I wanted to keep you two safe.” He cards his fingers through Lu Guang’s hair. “I’ll be more careful next time.”
“You idiot,” Lu Guang mumbles into Cheng Xiaoshi’s skin, voice throaty. “I wasn’t crying.”
Cheng Xiaoshi smiles into Lu Guang’s hair. “Sure,” he says simply, before closing his eyes.
They lay like that for a while. Cheng Xiaoshi loses track of the time, focusing on running his fingers through Lu Guang’s hair and matching his breathing with Lu Guang’s own. Lu Guang stays quiet, only giving little sighs when Cheng Xiaoshi finds a sore spot.
Eventually, Lu Guang withdraws. Cheng Xiaoshi lets him go reluctantly, but softens when he sees the small smile on Lu Guang’s face.
“Thank you,” Lu Guang says.
Feeling his heart squeeze with affection, Cheng Xiaoshi leans forward. He gently brushes the hair out of Lu Guang’s forehead and presses a soft kiss to the space there, delighting when Lu Guang flushes a sweet pink.
“Sleep well, Lu Guang. I’ll see you in the morning.”